The Home Stretch

Charlie: "Just... get home."

The Corvette’s engine purred, but Charlie barely noticed. The wind whipped through her hair, and her bare skin pressed against the leather seat, sticking slightly as she shifted. Her face burned, not from the heat but from the memory of jeering voices, snapping cameras, and her own ridiculous predicament.

Driver in a truck: "Hey, baby, you forgot your clothes!"

Charlie: "Go to hell."

She didn’t even bother looking as the truck roared past, the driver leaning out his window to give her a thumbs-up.

Driver in a sedan: "Best commute ever!"

Her knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, and she muttered under her breath.

Charlie: "Ignore them. Just drive."

The off-ramp to her dorm appeared, and she took it sharply, tires squealing as the Corvette sped onto the quieter street. Relief fluttered in her chest as the familiar parking lot came into view. She pulled into a spot near the entrance, cutting the engine and gripping the wheel for a long moment.

Charlie (whispering): "Almost there."

She glanced around, her heart sinking. A few students loitered near the entrance, chatting and laughing. Her fingers trembled as she reached for her dorm keys in the glove box.

Charlie: "Just run as fast as you can Charlie, you've got this."

She shoved the car door open then slammed it shut and bolted. Bare feet slapped against the pavement as she sprinted, her arms instinctively crossing over her chest.

Student #1: "Is she naked?!"

Student #2: "Holy crap, she’s naked!"

Student #3: "Check out that bush!"

The laughter was a blur, the comments a buzzing hum in her ears. Her focus narrowed to the door, each step bringing her closer.

Charlie (to herself): "Don’t look. Just go."

The cool air bit at her skin, and her legs burned as she pushed herself harder. She reached the entrance and yanked the door open, darting inside without slowing. Charlie didn’t stop. Her hips swayed, her ass jiggling with every frantic stride as she closed in on the entrance. Her eyes darted to the stairs just inside the glass doors—freedom was so close.

RA (startled): "Charlie? Whoa, do you... uh, need some help?"

Her face burned as she sprinted past him without breaking stride.

Charlie (breathless): "No thanks!"

Taking the stairs two at a time, her bare body moved with purpose, her breasts swaying and ass bouncing with each powerful leap upward. The rhythmic sound of her feet echoed through the stairwell.

Reaching her floor, she practically slammed into her door. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the keys. Keys jingled in her shaking hands as she fought to get the lock open.

Charlie: "Come on, come on..."

Finally, the lock clicked. She stumbled inside, slamming the door behind her and locking it. For a moment, she just leaned there, her chest heaving as adrenaline coursed through her.

Her eyes scanned the room, spotting a loose pair of boxers and a tank top crumpled on the floor. Without thinking, she snatched them up and slipped them on. The tank top's neckline hung low barely covering her chest, the boxers sitting low on her hips, but she didn’t care.

Charlie (murmuring): "Never again."

The tears came slowly, silently, and she didn’t fight them. The humiliation of the day poured out in ragged sobs, muffled by the pillow.

Eventually, exhaustion won. Her breathing slowed, her grip on the pillow loosened, and she drifted into an uneasy sleep.