Thursday Night

To say we spent a long time chasing our clothes would be an understatement. To say I took a tour of the town was not. Under any other circumstance, I would probably have given up a long time already, but without that shirt... without those sweats flying in the breeze like a wayward flag...

Welp. I only had a pair of underwear and a jacket with a broken zipper left. Not exactly enough to make a decent outfit. Annie´s last garment was likewise a gown that barely reached her belly button. Supposedly, she had had it since high school.

And yet... we would have **** but to wear those garments tomorrow... at least until we bought more clothes. That boat had already sailed today. Every shop in this town closes at around 6 PM. I should know, I saw pretty much all of them during my impromptu marathon.

That damned breeze seemed to have a sense of humor, parading my shapely ass to everyone it could. The whole town would have seen, well, pretty much anything a proper English lady would never flaunt in public.

And those who didn´t see us in person would see us in the paper. I know because this town has an evening paper, and guess who was on the cover? Me. On the back cover? Annie.

I know this for a fact since that´s what I´ve been wearing on the way back, a wayward newspaper stolen from under the stand´s nose. A photograph of Annie´s tits stretched over my own. Seemed fair, as Annie was covering her intimate parts with my own caramel breasts. Uncensored, too, because apparently this town isn´t prudish about that.

We crossed the hotel lobby, ignoring the snickers of the other tourists and workers there. We made a beeline to our room, Annie and I both longing to put some real clothes back on... lamentable as they were. However, when we opened our room...

“It´s empty?!”

My jaw hit the floor. My luggage was empty, my bed without sheets, my bathroom without towels. The only thing left was a little sign on the night table that read. “Taken for laundry. Sorry!”

“I´m s-sure they´ll be back soon with our stuff... “Annie tried to cheer me up, but seeing my tits right underneath her face just made me livid.

“Fuck that...” I opened the door, peeking outside. There was a trolley right outside the room, carrying dirty sheets. Well, what´s one more broken rule? I stole the first bedsheet I found and closed the door behind me. I think the maid saw me, but fuck her as well. I was prepared to fight for the bedsheet if need be. Thankfully, I didn´t.

I tossed the newspaper away and stomped into bed, wrapping the sheet around me. Annie meekly followed. While she usually is afraid of poking the angry bear (me), I guess she was too cold for caution. She sat next to me, her soft shoulders brushing my own, her cold toes finding warmth in my shin.

Her newspaper also lay discarded on the floor. The headline couldn´t help but attract my attention. “Another pair of rule-breaking tourists get their just desserts.” Pah! That´s all we are to these people? Dumb clowns from across the ocean? We really should have let that stupid magician go to town on these hillbillies.

Wait... something about that seemed odd... What if that magician was pulling the strings? Literally! Her cable trick could explain how we got stripped in the street outside the coffee shop if someone was controlling them from the roof. And... what if it wasn´t just the wind carrying our clothes, but another of her cables? Or a drone?... What if she had swarm of bee-sized drones as well as pigeons?

“Annie,” I said, turning to see her green eyes right in front of mine, the tip of our noses almost touching. Yikes, that was a bit too close. I pulled back. “I think the magician is responsible for our bad luck. Our accidents line up with her modus operandi.”

“Yeah, I think so too. Tomorrow we ought to pay her a visit.”

“In-“ A shrill sound interrupted me. Loud beeping. The smell of acrid smoke entered my nose, which meant...” The fire alarm!"

“Should we g-ack!” It wasn´t just the alarm. The sprinklers activated too, it´s cold droplets drenching Annie and me across our stolen bedsheet. We quickly escaped our room, bedsheet in tow, as we stomped on the wet remains of the disintegrated newspaper.

It was a clumsy escape, as we both tried to remain behind the bedsheet for cover in the wild stampede to reach safety outside. The other guests pushed, pulled, and even stepped on me on various occasions, but we finally managed to reach the outside of the hotel with everyone else.

As I turned back to see the hotel, I could see no big fire engulfing its wooden walls. Only the small receptionist stepped out with an apologetic look on her face.

“Don´t worry, everyone, it was just a little fire in the kitchen.” The receptionist said. “We just have to stay outside a bit longer to make sure there is no wayward flame. Thank you for your understanding.”

And so, she closed the door, leaving us outside with the other tourists. Which I soon realized was a bigger problem than I thought. The bedsheet was lost in the mayhem of the escape, which meant we were...

“Look, those girls are naked!”

“I think it´s the perverts I´ve been hearing about.”

“Oh yeah, I read about them in this evening´s paper!”

“And you´ll read about it in tomorrow’s paper as well. Smile, girls!”

That damned reporter was there again. I winced as once more she recorded my shame for posterity. I gulped. Annie did as well. We both instinctually hugged each other, trying to press our more intimate parts into each other and out of view of the peanut gallery and their eager camerawoman.

As my face burned, a thought crossed my mind. This wasn´t a coincidence. Someone was out to get us, and I had an idea of who and how.

Tomorrow we will find her.

But first... we would need some clothes.