Nude in Public All Day Long, Book 3: Bus Ride by Wife Embarrassed

Author:Wife, Embarrassed [Wife, Embarrassed]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2015-03-02T05:00:00+00:00

Bus

When I could no longer maintain that warp-drive pace, I was out of the park, on some city street. I had to stop, and almost collapsed, shaking and nauseous, with tears in my eyes. My distress and nudity shocked and alarmed the people who suddenly found me among them. However their day had been going, I was a weird, incongruous, possibly dangerous intrusion, like Isabella Rossellini in Blue Velvet.

I wasn't any happier about it than they were. If they were uncomfortable seeing a frantic nude woman in public, being that woman was no picnic either. My exposure and vulnerability made them fear their own, but theirs were hypothetical while mine were as real as real gets.

A long white van skid-slid on the wet pavement to a halt in the street beside me. Even before the side door opened, I made out four African American men inside. Two leaned out and waved for me to get in.

"Come on."

"We'll get you out of here."

Who were they? I didn't know or have the luxury to care. When I staggered close enough, they took me by the arms and helped me into the van. The instant I was in, one slammed the door.

The man in the shotgun seat pointed a camera at me. He shouted, "Go! Go! Go!"

The driver stomped the gas.

The wheels spun, then suddenly caught. The van lurched into motion.

The guys in the back with me mostly kept their balance. They settled into the rearmost seats, and eased me onto a mattress on the floor.

"Lie back, keep your head down for a while," one told me.

I complied. I still trembled and gasped, and I'm sure my expression must have been frenzied.

"It's okay," the other said. "They won't get you this time. Here." He handed me a bottled water.

I took it, but needed a while longer to calm down and recover before I could start to drink.

From the dash, a radio squawked. It must have been a police scanner, because the cameraman said, "Hoo-boy, assaulting an officer. They really want you now. Good thing we found you when we did."

After I gulped the water, I noticed how filthy I was, covered in wet grass and mud. "Sorry, I'm a mess. I'm getting everything all dirty here."

The cameraman said, "You heard the lady. Help her clean up a little."

One of the guys near me got out a pack of wet-wipes from somewhere, and the other found a towel.

"May we?" the one with the wipes said.

I scooted closer, but still tried to keep my head lower than the windows. "Yes, please."

As they leaned over and wiped me down, I was finally in a state of mind to form distinct impressions of them. Both were much taller than me, muscular, and dark-skinned. The one with the wipes was bald, with a goatee, heavily tattooed arms, and a bit of a paunch. The one with the towel had hair, but it was very closely cut. He also had a mustache. He was slimmer, and sported no visible tattoos.

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