Jasmin's Liberation

Jasmin stirred beneath her sheets, consciousness surfacing slowly. The soft glow of morning light filtered through her curtains, casting pale stripes across her bedding. She stretched, her small frame extending under the thin fabric, and let out a quiet sigh.

She slept nude. Had since she was thirteen. Her mother knew, had known for years, and neither of them made a thing of it. Just a preference. One less layer between her and the cool comfort of her sheets.

Her room was tidy but lived-in—a desk cluttered with homework she'd meant to finish, a vanity with makeup she rarely touched, a chair draped with yesterday's clothes. The laundry basket that had been near overflowing last night sat empty now beside her closet.

Mom must've taken it, she thought, still half-asleep.

Then her eyes caught the bedroom door.

Open.

Not cracked. Not slightly ajar. Open.

She'd left it that way last night. Hot. Restless. Wanting the airflow. The sheets had tangled around her legs most of the night, and she could feel them now—bunched near her thighs, her upper body completely bare to the morning air.

She was an eighteen-year-old high school senior, three weeks from graduation, lying naked in bed with her bedroom door wide open. Her petite body was exposed—her small, perky breasts, her flat stomach, the smooth, hairless mound of her pussy. She'd been shaving herself completely bare since she was sixteen, loving the sensation of smooth skin against her sheets.

And someone could walk by at any moment.