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Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 5
Sat Jun 9, 2018 9:38am

Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 5

"I wish they'd just give the software to US, and then let US install
it," Dareen said. She had been asking a few too many questions at the
meeting until she got a stern look from Ms. Hom. Probably for her own
good. It wasn't a good idea for an Arab girl to appear too resistant to
security measures.

"Yeah, I just had a bad feeling about it," Jamal said, though he hadn't
said anything about it at the meeting. The guys from DHS were nice and
seemed to "click" with Ms. Hom. Billy Gibbs seemed supportive too. "Or
at least let us get a copy of the program so we know what is being filtered
and monitored. . . That's what I like about you Dareen, you've got your
own mind."

Indeed. Dareen had noticed it herself -- she'd been at the job for a
year, her first job after getting her master's degree in library science,
and in the past few months she'd become more sure of herself and had gotten
a little out of her shell. Last month was perhaps the ultimate -- she had
actually written an angry letter to the Democrat-Argus. They had been
running an "expose" about the city schools and had printed essays by grade
school kids showing misspellings and mistakes. The names of the kids were
shown, and photos. Humiliating these kids was bad enough, but to top it
all off, the reporters were not too educated themselves. Her letter
pointed out the misspellings in the reporters' own articles and how one
"mistake" pointed out in the essays -- that Central America is in the
Northern Hemisphere -- was actually true. They never printed her letter,
of course. But it still made her feel good to send it off. She had been
feeling like there was a "new Dareen" emerging. Maybe after that
operation, with smaller breasts she wouldn't have to be hiding herself all
the time.

And now -- this!! An even newer Dareen, not in the least what she
wanted. She had wished for small breasts for ten years, but never so
fervently as now.

Sweating and feeling like an ingrate for lying to Jamal, she was walking
with him on the way back, and while waiting for the light to change, he
said, "I've got to get going on my invention."


"The 'ice hat'."


"Ice Hat. You lose most of your body heat through your head, right?
Well, if you would wear an ice pack on your head, like a soft helmet
covering your whole scalp, with maybe a battery pack running from your
shirt pocket to keep the refrigeration going, then you could stay cool on a
day like this even if you have to wear a suit."

Dareen smiled and nodded. And gulped -- that would feel so good right
now. She felt a little better back in the office, fantasizing about having
an ice hat, staying cool while being strapped into these infernal clothes.
She thought about it even through her afternoon pray. "Mmmm . . . Allah .
. . ice hat . . ." She even chuckled about it. Allah wouldn't mind.

At about 4:30, Ms. Hom called her in. And closed the door. This was
not good.

Ms. Hom said, in her stilted manner, "Miss Alkaras" -- she never called
anyone by their first name, it seemed -- "I can't help but say this, but
your appearance the last couple of days has caused me some . . . concern."

Sitting and squirming in the chair, Dareen played dumb. "I -- don't
know what you mean."

As if she hadn't said anything, Ms. Hom said, "It is important to
maintain a professional appearance and not be too -- distracting."

Dareen looked down, which unavoidably meant looking down at her
newly-protruding breasts. She was on the spot now, she had to give an
explanation. There was no getting around what Ms. Hom was talking about.
Dareen thought of something -- the truth, at least partway.

"Ms. Hom, I'm going for a -- breast reduction operation in two months,"
she said.

No reaction from her stone-faced boss.

Dareen's voice went very low. She hated talking about this, but she had
to. "I've had a problem with -- my breasts have been hurting lately so
I've tried a new bra with more support. I guess it kind of shows."

What a relief -- after a moment of more deadpan, Ms. Hom cracked a
little smile, something she rarely did. "You have a problem I've never had
to deal with," she said. "Try to find a better way of hiding -- your --
body. At least until your operation." Then she was back to her solemn
self. "Do you know when that is?"

"No." The insurance folks were supposed to get back to her about that.

"Tell me as soon as you find out. Be sure to put in the sick day form."
And the little scary meeting was over. Dareen stiffly got up in her stuffy
hot clothes and felt like her heart was in her mouth.

. . . .

The folks at mosque were always nice, though a little quiet. Al-Hijia
Mosque, one of three little mosques downtown, not a very imposing building.
There was an American flag strung up in an awkward place, along one wall,
right where, the week after September 11, 2001, the mosque had put up a big
banner: "We Pray for the Victims of This Terrible Tragedy". No one looked
at the flag, which, it was painfully obvious, was put there to cover yet
another attack of foul graffiti. Elly, though she had never been here
before, was also too tactful to look.
Dareen introduced Elly to the usual crowd, the women who hung out after
the service in the kitchen making coffee (that really strong old-country
stuff) for the turban-wearing men who sat around talking while the kids
were in the playroom. She introduced Elly to Imam Tahir, a short, heavy
and rather high-strung man whose sermons seemed always to be about the
importance of family. Made Dareen and Elly feel like they should find a
man and start producing babies, and quick. She laughed about it with Elly


"It seems a little medieval," Elly said, "these women who don't say
anything serving coffee for the men while they talk about the world."

"It's not what it seems," Dareen said. "Mojgan and Hari and me, we roll
our eyes sometimes. The women aren't really subservient. Like Flavia
Agnes says -- "

"I know, I know," Elly said, taking her kerchief off as she headed back
to her room. Their apartment was really a one-bedroom; Elly's room was
really supposed to be the living room. The only common area was the
kitchen. "I wish they'd actually ACT dominant, instead of leaving it to
people to figure it out." She and Dareen went around and around like this
sometimes. Dareen had been much impressed by an essay she had read by
someone named Flavia Agnes -- she always kept tabs on new books on Islam
that came into the library -- and had copied it out for Elly to read, to no
use. Dareen kept seeing virtues in a religion that Elly had pretty much
discarded as hopelessly sexist.

"SHIT!" Elly said, emerging from her room. "Guess what."

"No!" Elly didn't have to say it. Once again, their air conditioners
had blown a fuse. Not something they should complain about, because they
were only supposed to have the one air conditioner, not two. Tomorrow, on
the sly, they could again prevail on Pedro, the super, to re-set the fuse
again. But for now it would be a hot, stuffy night.

. . . .

Dareen tossed and twisted in bed. She could survive only an hour before
she had to throw the covers off. Her body seemed about to burst out of her
bra and panties under the bulky cotton pajamas. She looked out the window,
past the bars of the fire escape. The lights of downtown glimmered in the
distance. A hot, muggy night. Think cool thoughts . . . ice hat . . .

She hated getting up in the morning after not sleeping well. What could
she do to get to sleep? Sometimes warm milk helped, but they were out of
milk. The solution was easy, actually, but she kept trying to push the
thought out of her head. She shut her eyes. Then gave in to temptation
and did it.

She dreamed she was flying over nighttime fields. With cool rain
hitting her from above and below. Ahhhh . . .

When she woke she remembered that she was naked. In the dark, alone in
her room, the modest girl instinctively curled her legs up and covered her
breasts. Then looked out the window again. Through the open bottom half a
slight breeze blew in. Giving in to temptation, she put her arms to her
sides and felt the gentle wind waft over her nipples. Hmmmm . . . She was
a little aroused and thought about pleasing herself, something she did
every few days, with silent fingers under the covers and then the blessed
gasps. She idly played with her pubic hair, in the dark.

She didn't know what made her do it, but she got up and went over to the
window. No one could see her in the dark room, but looking out she saw
there was no one to do the seeing to begin with. The street was still,
silent. In the distance, an airplane descended on Hartsfield Atlanta
Airport, ahead of its ripping the air with a far-away scorching sound. She
could see the wing lights, red on the left, blue on the right. It kept her
interest until it disappeared behind buildings.

And now something really silly, she couldn't believe it, but she found
herself crouching through the open window and stepping out on the fire
escape. At least she could control her eyes, which searched below as her
body did this silly thing. Good, no one around. She looked up and did a
little hop to get out onto the metal-banded floor -

WHOA!! Up in the air twenty feet! She looked down past her bare toes
to the fire scape below. She was floating. Naked, over Boylston Street,
in the middle of the city! I must still be dreaming. But no -

She twisted and held her arm out and shot over the street, over the row
of buildings to Auburn Street, then banked and turned and flew back,
landing softly onto the fire escape again with the pad of bare feet and the
slight rebounding of large breasts. It was so easy, as easy as breathing.

Maybe it isn't a dream -- but it feels like it . . . Why not? I'm
still hot and the air whooshing past feels so good! She decided to do a
little traveling. She hopped back into the room to check the time. Wait,
let me get my watch. I'll stay out one hour, then back. Can't stop being
Responsible Dareen. With the watch in one hand, she flew out again, way up
to where no one could see her, even though anybody was around, then decided
to stay away from the lights. Clothed by the dark and her own dusky
colored skin, Dareen banked a nice easy arc upward and out of town.

[to be continued]

  • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 4 - donnylaja, Fri Jun 8 2:46pm
    Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 4 The administrative offices of the Georgia State Regional Library, Atlanta: four doors, usually open, on the edge of a large room not open to the general public... more
    • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 5 - donnylaja, Sat Jun 9 9:38am
      • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 6 - donnylaja, Mon Jun 11 12:14pm
        Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 6 Unseen high over the Atlanta suburbs, the solitary human body glided quickly and silently several hundred feet up, like the largest of the birds. Yes, there was ... more
        • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 7 - donnylaja, Tue Jun 12 1:04pm
          Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 7 Pedro Villareal was an amiable fellow of about 30 who lived with his wife Josefina and two kids in one of the basement apartments. Though Elly knew her desire... more
          • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 8 - donnylaja, Wed Jun 13 10:04am
            Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 8 She sat up, reaching forward to clutch the tips of her unbra-ed breasts as they pressed out against her white flannel pajamas. Something was wrong, or about to... more
            • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 9 - donnylaja, Thu Jun 14 2:48pm
              Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 9 "Allah we pray to you that our fears shall be eased, that we shall not suffer, that the cause of this terrifying bomb shall be discovered and laid to rest." It... more
              • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 10 - donnylaja, Fri Jun 15 11:50am
                Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 10 Looking up at the mountains, in spite of the wind blowing around them which mussed one's hair, one saw the circling eagles, the blue sky with clouds. Tremors... more
                • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 11 - donnylaja, Sun Jun 17 8:14pm
                  Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 11 It wasn't a tingling in her nipples, like with that "pulse bomb". But it was a definite feeling that something bad was happening, or about to happen, and she... more
                  • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 12 - donnylaja, Mon Jun 18 5:39am
                    Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 12 It was a little plastic statuette he had bought at some flea market. A sideways naked white woman with outrageously huge breasts hanging down in perfect... more
                    • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 13 - donnylaja, Tue Jun 19 11:05am
                      Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 13 If one looked really closely from the west Tennessee cornfield, one could see it. A tiny speck slowly moving across the sky, obviously a far-away airplane.... more
                • Very well done thus far. I wrote a story with the same basic title back in 2004. Still sitting unfinished on my asstr page after all these years. For the past few months I've been working up the... more
                  • thanks - donnylaja, Mon Jun 18 10:50am
                    I've read your story and it's amazing how we came up with such similar ideas at about the same time. Mine, also, was written in 2004 and was attuned to the politics of that year. In some places you... more
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