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Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 6
Mon Jun 11, 2018 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 the occasional bird up here -- hawks, geese, orioles
-- she could see them even in the darkness of this moonless night. The air
was thick, sibilant, textured, humid, and with her arms out in front of
her, holding her watch in one hand, she felt the rushing oceanic texture
blowing back her hair, whooshing over her butt, whistling past her nipples
at the tips of her large, firm, canteloupe-sized breasts which hung down
below, past her toes which she spread and flexed, feeling the wind go
around each toe.

Past Grant Park, Ormewood, Thomasville -- Dareen, a life-long (or almost
life-long) Atlanta area resident and a bookish type who liked to read maps,
could recognize the clusters of lights down there, the highways delineated
by the lines of street lights, the black blank areas that she knew to be
lakes or ponds. She knew the vista from the few times she had looked from
airplanes, but she had a full view now, not just through a little oval
window, and there was no noisy engine, just her own naked self and her

And her sensuality. Air this thick was like swimming in water,
something she'd never done naked, of course, but she could imagine it would
feel as good as this. She stopped and stretched upright, arms and legs
out, standing still in mid-air, looked down past her feet and still was
amazed to see nothing underneath, nothing to hold her up, to keep her from
falling down into that lake down there, nothing except her newfound super

She never felt so alive, as she hovered, her hard concave tummy
breathing in and out. She could see miles in each direction. She could
see that little flock of ducks heading southwest -- what, they must be two
miles away and she could still hear their quacking to each other, she
almost felt like she understood what they were saying. Now, she heard a
little splish from that lake, a catfish swirling to the surface to catch a
dragonfly. I feel sorry for the average person, I can see so much more,
can hear so much more.

And feel so much more. What human has ever been lucky enough to feel
all these sensations? And to fly! Lucky, yes, that's what she was. She
was still modest Dareen, and would be mortified if anyone saw her naked
like this, but there was no one to see way up here in the dark. This was
her own private world, way up here at night, out of town. No, she wasn't
alone -- she felt like the birds knew she was here, maybe even that
catfish. Just me and the animals, no, just me and nature. Something to be
thankful for. All thanks be to You, Allah.

Still hovering, she drew her knees up and put her head down, praying on
a sajjada of air. In the back of her mind she knew that this was not
exactly a Muslim woman's standard of modesty, especially conscious of a
gentle breeze blowing behind against her exposed rear sphincter and her
slightly-open pussy lips -- but that was only in the back of her mind and
even that thought soon went away. With her mind and body unified Dareen
had the nicest, most reassuring, most relaxing and refreshing pray she
probably ever had.

Still kneeling on her sajjada of air, she brought her head up and then
looked down. In this position she was drifting downward slowly. Closer to
the lake. Probably thirty feet deep where it was directly below her. It
might make a noise, but -

She didn't have much experience with diving; because of her breasts she
had generally avoided anything where she had to strip down to a swimsuit.
But she tried it, head first, pointed hands in front, she controlled her
descent and -

Aaaaahhh . . . Her nude body knifed into the water and the coolness
slid past her and then was all around her, into every crevice and pore.
What a relief from the hot night. She thought of Elly, who no doubt having
thrown her clothes off but was still sweating back in her room. She wished
Elly could feel this. She wished everyone could feel this. What a nicer
world it would be. How could anyone be angry, anyone be hateful, anyone be
time-pressed or worried or frustrated, if they could feel what I'm feeling,
doing what I'm doing!

She slithered in sinuous snakelike motions, swirling the water into
every little corner of her body, and saw the fish gliding by, fish that
somehow didn't swim away when they saw this large creature coming at them,
in fact she felt like she was saying "hi" to them as she passed. She
descended to the bottom and felt the squishy moss of the rocks under her
soles. Then, flexing her muscles only a little to counteract her natural
bouyancy, she walked along the bottom, as her hair billowed up and
gracefully danced in a large plume over her head. Though it had to be
pitch dark she could make out the rocks and the weedy plants and felt like
she could recognize and name each individual fish. And there goes that eel
darting by -

She suddenly realized that she had been under for maybe five minutes and
still had no desire to go up to the surface for air. Could any person
comfortably hold her breath this long? Yet another super power! She
laughed, baring her teeth, the giddy sounds reverberating through her head
as they lugubriously gurgled outward to the water. No doubt the fish heard
it. Still not feeling the need to breathe, she squatted down and fanned
her fingers over some sea grass, feeling it play around her fingers, and
looked down to where her pubic hair puffed out and rippled with the
currents she had made. She spread her pussy lips and felt her clit down
there, hard and big. A few diddles sent a thrill of pleasure through her
body. Another underwater giggle.

She considered her watch, still enclosed in her other hand. Was it
waterproof? She didn't know. She jumped up, intending to hit the surface,
but again underestimated her strength -- she shot up out of the water and
into the air until she stopped herself about fifty feet up. Yes, the watch
still worked. I've been away an hour. Time to get back and get to sleep.
I can do this again some other night. Water was still coursing down her
body down to her dripping big toes, from where it loudly plopped into the
lake below. There was no one around but she was worried about the dripping
sound reverberating into the nighttime Georgia forest. She extended her
arms up and flew straight up, higher, higher, then banked to the left and
cruised at a nice comfortable altitude as the air dried her off, the last
spritzes of water flying off her nipples and toes.

She approached the city. Looking again at the watch in her hand -- it
was now 2:30 a.m. -- and seeing no sign of light as she turned into a
sitting position to look at the eastern horizon, air pushing against her
bare back, she decided to swing by downtown. The skyscrapers were all
dark, only a sprinkling of lit windows here and there, probably no one was
there at all and the lights were left on by mistake or out of habit. Wow,
a view like from a helicopter, the streets below looked so tiny. The air
was a little warmer here, she was intensely conscious of that. She felt it
in her pores, in her sensitive nipples, her nostrils flared, she was
enveloped in a heavier, warmer air now that was smoky and redolent of
electricity and gasoline and exhaust.

Then she made her big mistake.

Idly fastening the watch around her wrist before heading back to the
apartment -- it was such a bother to carry it in her hand like this -- she
suddenly started sinking, losing altitude. She stretched her arms out,
kicked back with her feet, but down she went, down, down, down, and now she
was spinning and tumbling out of control, she waved her arms in front of
her frantically -- Allah help me -- NO! NO!

She quickly figured out the problem and managed to undo the watch, and
again held it in her hand. But no use! This can't be!! What's happening!

She saw the buildings rising quickly around her, the whistling air of
doom in her ears, now down below there was a hard roadway, a big traffic
circle, and she twisted and headed to the center of it and -

. . . .

The honking of a car horn was the first thing that registered. Dareen
raised her head a fraction of an inch. Then knew enough to put it down
again. Her eyes blinked open to get used to the morning light and then
widened in surprise and fear.

She knew her situation immediately, panic flooding her in spite of the
thudding pain where she had hit her head. She was lucky to be alive. But
now! With her quickening breathing she felt her breasts rubbing into the
grass. She dared to move her fingers. Her watch was gone, no doubt it was
thrown clear. Again she told herself: I'm lucky to be alive. Her eyes
darted her and there. In the morning light and on the ground she
recognized where she was -- the traffic circle at the Perimeter Center in
downtown. One of the busiest traffic spots in the city!

The middle of the traffic circle was a grassy area surrounded by low
shrubs. She must have fallen head first and been knocked out. Fortunately
on the soft grass, she had survived. And now -- !

It seemed to be early morning. On a Saturday, not too much traffic, yet
there were cars and trucks circling around her as if to attack. Or as if
to get a full gawking view from several angles at this naked woman in the
middle. No, they obviously didn't see her. Now that she thought about it,
few people have reason to look at what's in the middle of a traffic circle.
Yet they would have to look OVER it, to see the cars on the other side.
And while their eyes were glancing that way . . .

She shut her eyes. Oh Allah, please help me, I feel such shame. She
was lying prone on the grass, her arms to each side, her legs splayed. The
riffing of the morning air against her nether regions told it all. Her
anus was on total display, so was her pussy. Her big breasts were crushed
under her, ballooning out to each side of her torso. At least her nipples
were hidden as they poked into the dewy grass. How do I get out of here?

She dared not move. That would attract attention. She was facing one
of the entrances to the rotary; she could see drivers kind of look in her
direction as they entered. Did they see her? How could they not?

Naked in the middle of downtown in the broad daylight. Afraid to move.
She needed help from someone. But who? What if she had her cell phone?
"Elly . . . please come get me . . . I'm in the middle of the Perimeter
Center rotary . . . n - naked . . ." Her situation would be laughable if
it wasn't so dire. In her nervousness she flexed her toes, then quickly
froze the movement. In the intensity of her shame she blinked back a tear.

She could be clearly seen through the shrubs. And even if the shrubs
covered her they would not have been much use because they were only about
two feet high. Seconds went by. Then minutes. She felt the warmth of he
rising sun as it hit her butt cheek and then her left sole. The terrified,
mortified, modest Muslim woman thought she was being punished by Allah. To
fly around naked like that must be an offense. Yet it felt so good and I
had such a good pray up there in mid-air.

Imam Tahir would talk about the importance of modesty often. To the
extent it wasn't merely old-fashioned male oppression of females, Dareen
had taken this modesty business as an instruction not to boast, not to be
greedy, not to be showy. But maybe covering up was in itself a good thing.
Certainly, if she hadn't stripped in her bedroom, she wouldn't be in her
present fix! But then again -

I've been seen.

I've been seen.

She said that to herself again and again. Cars were being stopped.
Something was going on above her line of vision. It making no difference
now, she turned her head. A stopped police car, and an officer making his
way across the lanes. Dareen thought of what must happen next. Arrested
for indecent exposure, the call to Elly, the mark on her record, fired from
the library, her parents would surely find out . . . Maybe he thought she
was a dead body, but he seemed surprised to see her head move and her eyes
look at him. Now he began to step over the shrub in front of her and began
to say, "Young lady -- "

Dareen could think only of escape. She jumped up, breasts bouncing, and
in the same motion found herself going up, up, higher, over the traffic
circle, looking down only for an instant at the astonished officer and then
whirling her arms to the right and up and shooting the hell out of there!

Eyes open in panic, the wind drying the tears off her face, Dareen got
to well above the tops of the skyscrapers and looked around, then darted
toward Boylston Street. Maybe no one would see her way up here, even in
daylight, but once she got down to her building it would be a different
story. Back through the fire escape, of course. As she approached it she
tried to figure out which one was hers. They all look alike!

She alighted on the banded metal floor and immediately crouched down.
She turned. No one was looking -- but that was just people outside. Maybe
someone in the building across the street saw her through their window.
Looking in to the window she saw it was Elly's room, not hers. She thought
of going to her own fire escape but that would involve a jump and would
attract attention.

She tried to open the window and it was locked. Still amazing herself
with her newfound strength, with two fingers she bent and broke the metal
catch. She could explain it to Elly later. Opening the window she
gratefully hopped into the room.

Elly must have gone out. Dareen stepped around the piles of clothes and
CD's. Elly was the opposite of Dareen, her room was a chaotic mess.

The naked Dareen, relieved and a little shaky from what she had gone
through, took a deep grateful breath, looked down at her protruding
breasts, and thought about being back in her room in a few seconds and
putting on clothes again. Sorry, Allah, I've been bad. No more. I

She opened the door and stepped into the kitchen, flinging away one of
Elly's strewn T-shirts off that she had caught in her toes, and looked up.

She was being stared at by Elly, standing there in her pajamas. And by
Pedro the super, in his T-shirt and jeans with the long string of keys.

[to be continued]

  • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 5 - donnylaja, Sat Jun 9 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 ... more
    • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 6 - donnylaja, Mon Jun 11 12:14pm
      • 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
                    • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 14 - donnylaja, Wed Jun 20 5:28am
                      Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 14 She just had to giggle as she flew, making her breasts jiggle as she sped toward another call on this humid, foggy night. She got a big kick out of Rayette... 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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