Author: Jack
Keywords: .
Summary: After a disaster at her new job, Jenny finds herself naked, in the middle of town, with miles to travel in order to get home. (This is a sequel to Jenny gets a job)
Jenny crouched behind a pile of boxes, looking in horror at the ruined clothes in her tote bag and wishing she could die. She was used to the occasional disaster, the odd embarrassing accident, but this time things really looked bleak. Her new job at Alfonse’s Hair salon and Boutique had blown up in her face, and now she had been thrown out of the salon into a squalid back alley dressed only in hose and high-heeled shoes. All her other clothes had been ruined by an accident with a bottle of bleach, and she had no place and no one to turn to. Her best friend Ashley was trying to put things right inside, and no doubt trying to save her own job from the fallout of Alfonse’s anger at Jenny’s mistakes, so Jenny knew she couldn’t hope for any help there.
And she was ten miles from home, trapped in a busy downtown shopping district in broad daylight. What could she do?
She couldn’t even try to drive home. Not only had she learned from bitter experience in previous situations that driving around town nude wasn’t exactly a good idea, but they had come in Ashley’s car this morning. Jenny didn’t have the keys . . . and she certainly couldn’t go back inside and try to get them. With the back door locked and Ashley presumably trying to placate the boss, Jenny knew she couldn’t possibly get back in from the alley, anyway. And walking around to the front in her present state of undress was just unthinkable . . . and Alphonse would probably call the police if she did try that route.
Jenny shuddered, thinking about previous police encounters. No, that wasn’t an option, either. Ashley’s car was as unreachable as the safety of her own home, at this point.
She could try to wait here in the alley, she supposed, until Ashley got off work, then try to flag her down and get into the car without being seen. But it would be hours before Ashley was ready to go, and she might be found in the meantime . . . and, anyway, sometimes Ashley seemed to be so hard of hearing when Jenny tried to attract her attention. Probably just concentrating too hard on her own problems . . . but it could be frustrating, Jenny thought, when you needed help and your best friend was too distracted to notice you . . . .
Jenny looked in the tote bag again. At the very bottom, among the ruined remains of her clothes, was her little handbag, sopping wet with bleach but not destroyed like the cotton things with it. Gingerly Jenny lifted it out and wiped it off with a scrap of newspaper. She opened it up.
There were her keys, and a twenty dollar bill, and her slender wallet with ID and credit cards and such, plus a change purse and a few other odds and ends. Not a whole lot to work with, she thought glumly. She couldn’t very well go shopping in her present state even if the twenty would have bought her anything substantial to cover herself with. The credit cards didn’t count. Last week, when she had gone to replace the jogging outfit that had been destroyed in that horrible episode with the dogs, she’d been embarrassed to learn that both her accounts were maxed out. She’d been having to buy so many replacement outfits these last several months . . . .
She could call her husband, or Ashley’s boyfriend, to come and help her . . . except that it still meant venturing out on the street next to naked. Jenny was desperately considering whether she could cover herself with the smelly cardboard boxes she was hiding behind, though she didn’t see any way she could keep them secure around her, when an alarming noise from the head of the alley made her peer over the makeshift barrier, frightened.
As she watched, a shapeless mass she had earlier taken for a pile of rags and trash began to move, emitting a loud groaning sound as it slowly resolved itself into a disheveled human figure, a tall, skinny, unkempt man in a tattered and faded suit and a shabby raincoat. The man was unshaven, with wild, long white hair. In one hand he clutched a brown bag, but as he rose to his feet he lost his grip on it and it fell to the pavement with a tinkling sound of shattering glass. The old derelict stared down at it regretfully.
Disgusted, but no longer scared, Jenny hunkered down and hoped the old man wouldn’t notice her. Then another thought dawned, which she promptly rejected, then considered again, discarded, and finally came back to with the greatest reluctance.
It took every ounce of Jenny’s willpower to act on the idea, and the only thing that carried her through was the knowledge that the old man would probably dismiss the entire thing as a dream inspired by cheap Mogan David and half-forgotten memories.
"Sir? Please, sir . . . over here." Jenny’s voice quavered as she spoke. She couldn’t believe she was actually trying to call someone’s attention to her plight.
The old man looked around the alley vaguely. "Eh? What’s that? Who’s there?" He staggered a little and had to lean on the brick wall behind him to stay upright. "I ain’t goin’ back to the mother ship with any of you little green guys again, so just forget it!" He started to turn away, toward the street.
"No, please, wait!" Jenny cried out. "I need your help!"
He stopped and looked back into the alley again. "Now look here, dagnab it," he said crossly. "Quit playing tricks on me, you hear? ‘Tain’t respectful. ‘Tain’t proper. Now you show yourself if you’re really there, and if you’re not, just leave me alone."
Jenny raised her head up above the boxes reluctantly. "I . . . I can’t come out, sir. I’ve, er . . . I’ve lost my clothes." She blushed furiously, one of those hot blushes she knew so well that spread red color all the way from her face to her breasts.
The bum looked at her, bleary eyes trying to focus but not getting very far.
"Can’t give you a dollar for a dance, honey," he said, and cackled. "Don’t have any dollars left." Once again he started to turn away, which surprised Jenny. She wasn’t used to having a man, any man, lose interest in her when she was in the middle of one of these situations.
"No, wait a minute, please. I want to give YOU money!"
"That’s a first," the derelict said, wheezing another laugh. "You want to pay me to look at you naked? Little lady, you must be some kind of ugly . . . ."
"I want to give you twenty dollars for your raincoat. Please. I need it . . . ."
"Eh? Twenty dollars?" His features lit up in a bright smile. "That’ll quench a man’s thirst for a while. Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal." But he made no move to remove his coat, and Jenny bit her lip with frustration.
After a long moment he spoke up again. "Well? Come out and show me what you want to show me, and give me the twenty. I haven’t got all day."
"No, no, NO!" Jenny felt like screaming in sheer exasperation. "I need your raincoat. Please, sir, if you’ll just take it off and give it to me."
He shrugged. "Okay, I guess." He finally took it off, but instead of tossing it over the boxes to her he simply draped it over one arm. "Don’t see what difference this makes, though."
"Oh, GOD!" Jenny cried, surging to her feet and stomping out from behind the boxes, finally pushed over the edge. She got about halfway to the old man before her situation hit her forcibly, but by then it was too late to do anything. She couldn’t even cover herself with her hands because she had to open the handbag again and fish out the twenty. Heart pounding like a hammer, she steeled herself to approach him anyway. Perhaps the number of times she had been naked in front of strangers - large crowds of strangers, and sober ones, too - made it a little bit easier. If so, however, Jenny couldn’t detect it. She was still mortified. "Ohmygod . . . ohmygod . . ."
The derelict stared at her, his bloodshot eyes seeming to come into focus as they roamed over Jenny’s generous curves. He seemed unable to settle on staring at her 38CC breasts or her lightly fuzzed blonde bush, so they continued to show a tendency to wander. He was starting to drool a little, as well, but he nonetheless seemed considerably more sober than he’d been just moments before. The coat, unregarded, slipped from his arm and landed on the concrete pavement.
"Little lady, you don’t have to go around payin’ people to look at you nekkid. Believe me!" But he plucked the twenty out of her fingers anyway, and his gaze lingered on her as she quickly stooped, snatched up the coat, and raised it to cover her front.
"Th-thank you, sir . . ." she stuttered, blushing all over again.
"No, thank YOU," he said, inwardly vowing to take this as a sign that he should clean up, sober up, straighten out, and start hanging out at strip clubs instead of wasting his life in deserted alleys . . . though admittedly this one had paid off pretty well.
The old man watched her closely as Jenny backed away to take refuge behind the boxes again, then turned and lurched his way out of the alley and onto the sidewalk. Jenny heard his voice raised as he buttonholed a passerby with the words, "Hallelujah, brother, a naked angel just turned my life around!"
Jenny slipped her arms into the sleeves of the raincoat, crinkling her nose at the powerful smell and trying not to think what the various spots and stains that decorated it might have been caused by. The important thing was that it would cover her. It was big for her 5’6" frame, though tight across the chest as so many borrowed garments proved to be on her. The belt that should have gone through the loops at the waist was missing, but all the buttons were intact and even seemed fairly sturdy when Jenny tested them nervously with trembling fingers. Buttoned up, it covered her from neck to knees, and if she now looked like a bum herself - or perhaps a demented female flasher, she thought mockingly - at least that was better than playing the Lady Godiva of Middle America.
She checked one of the deep pockets carefully and found to her surprise that it wasn’t torn, ripped, or missing. Her luck must have finally been turning, she thought. Jenny clipped her purse into the pocket and cautiously started out of the alley toward the street.
Out in the bright sunlight of the busy thoroughfare, she paused to look around and consider her options. There was a pay phone half a block up the street, and Jenny turned over the idea of calling her husband or a friend to come pick her up. But she was reluctant to do that. It would only lead to questions, and the inevitable "Jenny Story" that always left the listener laughing at her expense, and frankly Jenny was getting pretty damned tired of it.
Something caught her eye from the opposite direction, and she turned in time to notice a bus coming up the street. There was a bus stop at the nearest corner . . . and she knew the bus route led right to her neighborhood. She’d have to change buses once, but she’d get off less than four blocks from her house. And she had enough change in her purse to pay the fares . . . perfect!
Suddenly her situation, so desperate just moments before, looked a whole lot brighter.
Jenny hurried to the bus stop, reaching it just in time to meet her ride. She hesitated just a moment when the door opened up and the driver beckoned her aboard . . . Jenny still cringed at the memory of that one bus ride on the rainy day when her wet clothing wouldn’t cooperate . . . .
She thrust the thought aside and climbed on, pulling out her purse long enough to find the fare. As the driver started up again she looked back, and realized that the vehicle was crowded. People regarded her curiously, plainly wondering at the pretty blonde with the shabby old raincoat. There were already plenty of people standing, and no one was chivalrous enough to offer her a spot, so she found a handhold, faced forward, and tried to concentrate on the view out the windshield rather than allowing herself to think of the fact that she was naked under her coat.
Suddenly Jenny became aware of a warm body standing close behind her, crowding against her. Something brushed against her ass through the coat, and Jenny tried to pull away, but whoever was there moved against her again. As the bus braked for a traffic light, she lurched back against her too-friendly fellow passenger, and this time she could plainly feel the outline of a hard male organ pressing eagerly against her.
She turned slowly. A ferret-faced little man with olive skin and a beard was standing there, giving her a smile. He had a camera around his neck and a tourist group name tag pinned to his sweater that said "Hi, my name is Mark from Athens." Jenny glanced down, saw his zipper was open and his cock exposed, rock-hard and pointing straight at her like a dowser’s divining rod seeking water.
"It is something special for me," he said in heavily-accented English, still smiling at her as she hastily returned her gaze to his face. "I try to do in every bus."
Jenny slapped him, hard, and shifted to another handhold closer to the driver.
A few minutes later they were at the bus terminal downtown, and Jenny quickly debarked to get away from her foreign admirer before he made any further advances. Walking briskly, she found that she was just in time to catch the Number Six bus, the one that would take her to her own side of town. Again there was quite a crowd boarding, and Jenny started getting nervous, thinking that with so many people pressing so closely something was bound to happen to her clothing. She muttered a silent little prayer that her clothes might stay on, and God, who in this case was currently answering to the name of "Jack," decided in a fit of generosity to grant her prayer. Jenny got on board without suffering any damage to her all-too-fragile wardrobe. Once again, however, no one was willing to give up a seat for a lady, so again she had to hang on to a strap.
Suddenly Jenny became aware of a warm body standing close behind her, crowding against her. Something brushed against her ass through the coat, and Jenny tried to pull away, but whoever was there moved against her again. As the bus braked for a traffic light, she lurched back against her too-friendly fellow passenger, and this time she could plainly feel the outline of a hard male organ pressing eagerly against her.
"Wait a minute," Jenny muttered. "Didn’t this just happen?"
She turned slowly. The same ferret-faced little man with the olive skin and the beard was standing there, giving her that same smile. This time she didn’t even bother looking down. Instead she hauled off and socked him in the jaw, earning a rousing round of applause from a number of other women.
The rest of the bus ride proceeded with out incident, now that Jack had made his pointless in-joke from Byron’s Forum.
At last they reached her stop, and Jenny pushed her way back to the side door of the bus and managed to climb out without stepping on too many toes or tripping over anyone. She paused when she was out, and that pause proved to be her undoing.
The door of the bus closed firmly behind her, trapping the bottom of her coat. And with grinding gears and a painful wheeze, the bus lurched into motion once again.
Jenny felt the tug at her coat, and for a moment thought it was Mark from Athens back to run the joke into the ground. The truth dawned on her and she started walking alongside the slow-moving vehicle, trying to retrieve the coat from the door unsuccessfully. As the bus picked up speed she started to trot, and beat at the door with one hand, but to no avail.
As the bus gathered speed she realized she couldn’t keep doing this. The next stop was over a mile away, and there was no way she was going to be able to keep pace the whole way without stumbling . . . .
There was usually only one sure way out of one of these situations, and Jenny saw that this was the case once again. Still trotting, she started unbuttoning the coat, her fingers fumbling with each button. One of them, perversely, wouldn’t come open, so at last Jenny was forced to yank the lapels apart violently to rip the last button free. She slid each arm out of the coat and watched as it flapped alongside the bus, moving slowly up Blossom Road.
Leaving Jenny standing in the street, four blocks from home.
Naked again.
Jenny ran for the nearest cover, a hedge row that surrounded a nearby house. Ducking down behind the bushes, she tried to consider her strategy.
"Hey, lady! Where’s your clothes?"
The voice behind her nearly made Jenny jump out of her skin. She whirled around, instinctively covering up with her hands. Her crouching posture brought her eye to eye with a kid in a boy scout uniform, carrying a water pistol in one hand and a walkie-talkie on his hip. The kid stared at her, wide eyed, taking in the sights as Jenny blushed.
A scout. Didn’t it just have to be another boy scout.
"Where’s your clothes, lady?" the boy repeated.
"I, er, I had an accident," she said, blushing again. "Hey, is this your house?"
He nodded solemnly, but his eyes never wavered in their steady stare at her only partly covered breasts.
"Could I . . . could you let me go in and borrow something to wear from your Mom? Please? I only live a little ways away from here, and I’d return it right away."
"Gee, lady, I can’t. I’m sorry. My Mom’s not home right now and I’m not allowed to let strangers into the house when she’s not around."
Jenny bit her lip. "Well, could YOU go in and find me something?" She had an inspiration. "If you get me something to wear, you could come with me to my house, and I’d give it back to you as soon as we got there . . . and give you some ice cream, too. How would that be?"
The boy looked thoughtful. "I don’t know, lady. Mom says I shouldn’t go off with strange people, either . . . and she’ll be home soon. She’d worry if I wasn’t here."
"It wouldn’t take long. Really." Jenny paused. "And aren’t the scouts supposed to do good deeds for people in need? You’re a scout . . . and I really need a good deed right now."
The scout thought about it for a while longer. At least Jenny hoped that was what he was thinking about, behind that intense and unblinking stare. Finally he nodded. "Okay, lady. I’ll go find something. You stay here." And he was off before she could respond.
She wondered why he took the walkie-talkie from his belt as he raced into the house.
The boy took a long time to come back out, and Jenny was starting to consider leaving without him. But then he did reappear, grinning broadly, running toward her, proudly clutching . . .
A diaphanous white nightie.
"What’s this?" Jenny squeaked.
"It belongs to my Mom," the boy said proudly. "I overheard her tell my Dad one time that she thought it was better to wear this than to be naked . . ."
Jenny took it from him with trembling hands and held it up, forgetting for a moment to cover herself as she studied the flimsy thing with wide-eyed horror. It was a see-through baby-doll nightie with a Frederick’s of Hollywood label, very nearly transparent. "Oh, please, I can’t wear this in public," she said plaintively. "Couldn’t you find me something else? Please?"
At that moment she heard a whole chorus of young voices from the other side of the hedge row. "Hey, Ben, where’s your naked lady?" was the only phrase she could pick out clearly from the gaggle of comments and giggles.
That explained the walkie-talkie, she thought grimly. Hurriedly Jenny decided to make do with what she had, drawing the nightie on over her head and pulling it down so that it approximately covered her to mid thigh. Unfortunately Ben’s mother was clearly shorter and less well-endowed than Jenny, so the lingerie was a tight fit and tended to ride up with the least excuse. But Jenny hoped that, from a distance at least, people might assume she was wearing a white tennis dress or something. For close encounters she’d have to keep on using her hands, just like always.
So, with an escort of eight boy scouts who surrounded her on all sides and made any sort of comprehensive covering with her hands inadequate at best, Jenny set off for home. She had her hands full, what with trying to screen herself from their prying young eyes and still prevent the occasional questing hand from trying to lift the all-too-short skirt up from behind. On the other hand, the scouts did give her something of a screen from the probing eyes of others, pedestrians, motorists, and the odd householder who happened to be looking in the right direction as the procession went by. Jenny tried to tell herself that there was some good in even the most trying situation, though by now her usual sunny optimism was starting to break down.
At long last they reached her house. Jenny ran the last few steps along the sidewalk and up to the porch, not realizing that her borrowed lingerie displayed far more of her than she intended as a result. She reached for the door knob, already letting out the sigh of relief that her ordeal was over at last . . .
And had a mental image of a raincoat trailing from the door of a bus, heading out of town. And her purse, with her keys, safely tucked into the coat pocket.
She was locked out until Ashley or her husband came home.
Crestfallen, she turned back to her eager young escorts. "Er, boys . . . I’m really sorry. I’m locked out of the house, here. I won’t be able to get you that ice cream I promised you until somebody comes home and lets me in."
There was a collective "Awww!!!" from the boys. "Gee, lady, we can’t wait around that long," her little friend Ben told her. "I gotta go home ‘fore my Mom gets there." There was a chorus of agreement from the others.
"Well, tell you what, Ben," Jenny said. "You guys come by here on Saturday, and I’ll give you each a big bowl of ice cream. Okay?"
"Yeah!" "Okay!" "Great!" "Cool!" "Will you be naked again?" "Wow!"
Jenny smiled. "And you can pick up this nice outfit you loaned me, Ben, when you come. Okay?"
Ben looked down at the ground and kicked his feet. "Gee, lady, I can’t do that. I gotta take that back right now. My Mom’ll kill me if she finds out I been messing around in her Special Drawer again."
"Ohmygod," Jenny muttered. She was tempted to pull rank as an adult on the kid and send him away, but her nature wouldn’t allow her to get the boy in trouble. After all, he and his friends HAD helped . . . .
She gave a reluctant little nod. "Okay, I guess you have to take it now." She led the way off the porch and around to the side gate. "You boys wait here, all right?"
Jenny opened the gate, then closed it firmly behind her. At least in her fenced back yard she wouldn’t be on full view for the entire neighborhood. She could hide there, under cover of a sort, until someone got home, even though that would mean enduring another "Jenny Story" session after all.
She slipped the nightie off over her head and slung it over the gate, saying, "Thank you" in the cheeriest voice she could muster. The answering giggles and "You’re welcomes" faded away presently, and Jenny started toward the back of the house. Only a few hours to get through before she could get inside and get dressed . . .
Jenny might not have felt quite so good about things if she had really paid attention when she had come up the street.
She hadn’t even noticed the big flatbed truck parked out there, or remembered that this was the day when the four strapping young college men who worked for the groundskeeping service came by to take care of the yard.