Joemdtanktopleave4

From Create Your Own Story

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WIP
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"Let's just go." You say. The finality sits well with your clothing predicament, and you abandon the ladder where it lay.
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first hides, get in office, damage to top, need to go out to swim possibly, or hide more
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"Alright. Hey. I didn't mean... Well." Wes for once seems a little out of things to say. "We can always try again. I mean-"
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You hear noises - clearly footsteps, now just a room away. You hush Wes and run down the hallway to the closest door. Inside, you find what seems to be an office room, complete with decade old computer and bookcases and stationary. It is not dusty, so someone has been using it, but still, you do not know what is going on. You lean against a wall to slip on your boots, which is tricky as you don't want to move your chest too much due to the top. Instead you bend your legs up, though that gives Wes a good show of all your legs have to offer. You decide it is better than the alternative.
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You hear footsteps in the hall. They are slow, but they are close. Wes kneels behind the desk and beckons you over. You think it futile, considering if whoever it is walks in the office, likely you will be seen, regardless, but still, you knee next to him to peek at the door. You lean forward to duck when the footsteps sound at the door, and as you do, you realize your leaning has caused the tank top to shift forward to the point the dip in the side of the top and the dip in front has uncovered the majority of your breast. The edges of your areola are visible, and you look to Wes in defense of what happened, only to see him staring at the door. You hold the top to your chest and sit back. Considering the lack of panties, you realize you have to push the top down over your crotch just in case while making sure it does not disturb the loose upper end covering your chest. Nothing bad happens, though as you see yourself fixing your clothes you notice Wes has looked toward you as you sat.
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"What?" You whisper.
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"Nothing, just..." Wes looks to the door. "What do we do? He doesn't sound fast."
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You know you could try and just [[Joemdrunouttowater5| run outside]], but [[Joemdhideoffice| hiding]] a bit longer may be smarter.
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   <td bgcolor="#A6B8FF" valign="top" width="10%"> Mood</td>
   <td bgcolor="#A6B8FF" valign="top" width="10%"> Mood</td>
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   <td bgcolor="#A6B8FF" valign="top" width="90%"> Suddenly alarmed </td>
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   <td bgcolor="#A6B8FF" valign="top" width="90%"> Antsy, Impatient </td>
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Current revision as of 20:02, 9 September 2015

"Let's just go." You say. The finality sits well with your clothing predicament, and you abandon the ladder where it lay.

"Alright. Hey. I didn't mean... Well." Wes for once seems a little out of things to say. "We can always try again. I mean-"

You hear noises - clearly footsteps, now just a room away. You hush Wes and run down the hallway to the closest door. Inside, you find what seems to be an office room, complete with decade old computer and bookcases and stationary. It is not dusty, so someone has been using it, but still, you do not know what is going on. You lean against a wall to slip on your boots, which is tricky as you don't want to move your chest too much due to the top. Instead you bend your legs up, though that gives Wes a good show of all your legs have to offer. You decide it is better than the alternative.

You hear footsteps in the hall. They are slow, but they are close. Wes kneels behind the desk and beckons you over. You think it futile, considering if whoever it is walks in the office, likely you will be seen, regardless, but still, you knee next to him to peek at the door. You lean forward to duck when the footsteps sound at the door, and as you do, you realize your leaning has caused the tank top to shift forward to the point the dip in the side of the top and the dip in front has uncovered the majority of your breast. The edges of your areola are visible, and you look to Wes in defense of what happened, only to see him staring at the door. You hold the top to your chest and sit back. Considering the lack of panties, you realize you have to push the top down over your crotch just in case while making sure it does not disturb the loose upper end covering your chest. Nothing bad happens, though as you see yourself fixing your clothes you notice Wes has looked toward you as you sat.

"What?" You whisper.

"Nothing, just..." Wes looks to the door. "What do we do? He doesn't sound fast."

You know you could try and just run outside, but hiding a bit longer may be smarter.


Status
Wearing Loose tank top, fabric wrapped around waist like tiny sarong
Mood Antsy, Impatient
Inventory knife, bag of 10 cans of paint, 2 planks, crowbar, pepperspray, boots in hand
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