I stride purposefully as the weight of my wetted clothes drags with each step. The thinness of the material now sodden with rain grows ever heavy as it shows what little is underneath. Of course I expected the sun to keep shining as it had done earlier. Little did I expect the merest shower let alone a full deluge. I had dressed purposely lightly in a thin cotton dress so that the July weather would not stifle me.
I deliberately and stupidly wore no bra so that the humidity normally experienced at this time of year in a hot city would not be unbearably uncomfortable beneath damp elasticated straps. The same applied to my panties that I thought would be equally irritating. Quite wrongly, because of the knee length of my dress, I doubted their absence would be noticed.
There is no point in sheltering from the rain. No point in stopping so that I might draw more eyes to me than I was already doing. As it is I cover my wobbling breasts with my right arm and shield my now highly visible mound with the other hand. Normally I would walk up a city street and attract few eyes if any but today there are many eyes darting about my body. I am soaked from the head to my upper legs. I can feel my cold wet bottom and the 'V' of soaked wet cloth against my mound. The skirt of my dress is slowly getting wetter and is clinging to my thighs.
As I stop to cross another road I see my reflection in a shop window. My dress looks pink and not cream with small blue geometric patterns as it had done when I put it on. Of course the pink was me, naked underneath. I looked naked I could feel that my back and buttocks were also wet and naked. I began to wish it is a dream and that I would soon wake up. But it isn't a dream and I can't end this nightmare. The people are beginning to crowd around me. Umbrellas drip huge cold droplets of water on me and although there are murmurs I cannot make out what is being said. My hair once perfectly groomed is now sticking to my shoulders covering my ears making a further barrier to disparaging remarks. Either that or I am unconsciously blanking out the sounds of others.
At last the 'walk' notice lights up but not before I feel a hand on my bottom. I knew it isn't accidental because it is a cupping handful and a finger slipps up the crack of my bottom pushing the wet cloth between my cheeks and missing my womanhood by a fraction of an inch. I had no time to see who it might be only time to pull the cloth back out again as I walked. While doing this a grinning oaf pushes past me and crosses in front of me making me stop. His hand thrusts between my legs as other pedestrians push past oblivious of his actions. I feel his fingers grip my pussy hard as if he has the right to do so because he could see it. His grin turns to a more sinister one as he motions with his tongue his true intention. "Fuck off" I shout which attracts the attention of those about me. However seeing I am practically naked they quickly resolve that I am also mentally unstable. I receive that look, not of pity, not of empathy with my obvious dilemma, but fear that I am contagious. No fear of that as everybody in that street has an umbrella and a sensible mackintosh.
I continue to walk and the rain bounces up from the sidewalk stinging my legs as is does so. Another street to cross and eight more blocks before I get back to my hotel. I take the time to pull the wet dress off me which allows me some privacy beneath its folds. However it is short lived as the rain pelts down on me, assisted by a gusting wind. A taxi goes past close to the curb and a large puddle of rainwater is blasted upwards and soaks the remaining dry areas of my dress.
My full frontal nudity is obvious in the reflection as I walk towards the window. I imagine I see someone inside the shop looking at me. Staring at my naked body and leering at me like a seedy peep show. As I move past the shop door the same figure comes towards it and is waving me inside. I paused for a second and then I move forward two steps, stop turn and go inside. I guess I could see that he has a towel in his hand and I realise that it is one of those shops that sells pillows, cushions and towels among other household things. I wonder why it is only when you get out of the rain that you suddenly feel the wet. He hands me the towel and the first thing I do is dry my dripping face and hair. As I do so, I realise form my reflection in a mirror that my helpmate is getting a really good look at my wetted boobs through my see-through dress. I casually lower the towel to my chest and pat it slowly while the length of the towel covers my other indiscretion below.
"I suppose you are wondering why I am out in the rain with nothing but a dress on?"
"No."
"Why I don't appear to have any money, or a means of carrying money?"
"No."
"Oh - okay." Either I am missing a trick here or he's a simpleton. Anyway the towel is a much welcomed assistance to my recovery.
"Here, you can put this on and take off your wet clothes." He passes me a thick towelling bath robe.
"Thank you." I say and for the first time I let my eyes meet his, but briefly because I feel so embarrassed.
"You can change in the staff rest room. I'll show you where it is." He leads me past a multiplicity of household items, doorknobs to drapes and everything in between. It becomes clear to me that the shop is a kind of hi-tech hardware and general store. As I follow I search for anything that can be considered a change of clothes, but the nearest I could find to this is a kitchen apron. Although this would cover my front it would definitely leave my bare ass totally exposed and so I disown that thought.
He opens the door and turns on the light as I enter.
"I'll leave you to it." He says and as he leaves he carefully closes the door. Alone in a strange room I look around me and note that it has a coffee table with magazines tidily stacked in the centre; which immediately indicates that a woman must work there too. It has four matching chairs, a coffee bar, a sink and a cupboard door next to it. Near the sink I see four mugs on a wooden tree. I take a deep breath and drag my clinging dress over my head and let it fall unceremoniously to the floor with a sodden slap. Totally naked I feel more vulnerable somehow and the thought races through my mind the interrogation I might receive from the police as to how I managed to put myself in this situation. My eyes dart towards the door to ensure that it is secure then I notice above it a security camera no doubt to monitor workers on a break. Resigning myself to the fact that it was too late to prevent such an obvious 'You Tube' catastrophe I look straight at it and wink.
"Are you okay in there?"
I wonder how long he has been outside the door. Did he consider coming in and taking by surprise? If he did how could I explain my lack of clothing? Why wasn't I wearing underwear? I quickly put on the robe and tie the cord. I pick up my wet dress, open the door and step out. "Well I can't put this on again, It's ruined." I say.
"Well maybe it needs drying, that's all." He says. My thought at this time is that he is obviously an expert in women's cotton dresses. My sarcastic inner voice knows no bounds. No, I know the dress has gone completely out of shape as the weight of water has stretched the material beyond return. I imagine that after drying the hem at the front will be longer than the back and the once pretty neckline will gape so hideously that not even a tee shirt will save it. "I'll get rid of it, don't worry."
I stand there looking down at my feet. "Now what?" I ask, not knowing quite where to go from here.
"Well you can't go outside in the robe." He pauses for a second. "I know, wait here a moment I will be right back." He enters the staff rest room and I hear the sound of a door open and close. He returns with a black mackintosh. "You can borrow this; it belongs to Jane - my work colleague." He continues, as he hands it to me and anticipates my next question. "She won't miss it as she's on vacation in Florida."
I go back into the staff room and put it on. It's a little tight but I feel it will be fine to get back to the hotel in. I re-emerge and he is standing looking at me with a smile.
"There you go." He says, as if completing a perfect sale.
"I don't know quite how to thank you." I state and my sincerity is real.