Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ï>¿Careful what you wish for by Emma

   After being thrown out by my partner, I went off the rails, big time.  I
started taking silly risks , just to get the attention I needed to give me
a buzz.  I took up running again, for the first time since school.  There
were two reasons, I wanted to get fitter, but I also wanted to show my body
off.  No tracksuit or joggers for me, I wanted kit like proper athletes
wear, so I bought professional kit - little crop top vest and tiny 'sprayed
on' shorts - basically very small bikini bottoms.

   I loved the shorts as they hardly covered anything.  My 'camel toe' was
visible at the front, and the shorts also tended to slip off my ass and
into my bum crack as I ran, leaving my cheeks bare.  Best of all though,
they were so low at the front, that you could see part of the tattoo, that
I had on my pubis, peeping out.  Always attracted attention!

   So that's how I dressed to go running, and it definitely had the desired
effect - guys couldn't take their eyes off me.  My favourite run was to
drive up to Limpley Stoke, near Bath,park, then run along the Kennet & Avon
canal towards Bath, stop for a cold drink at one of the many
canal/riverside pubs, then run back along the bank of the river Avon.  Nice
circular run, with a break in the middle to be eyed up by the boys.  And
eye me up they did - I was invariably the centre of attention when I
stopped for a drink, and I loved it.  Never bought my own drink, never sat
alone.  Pulled a few times as well - I wasn't fussy - backs of cars in the
car park, in the gents toilet at the pub - the more risky the better.  It
was one huge adrenalin rush.  Until it went too far.

   One evening, in the first spell of warm weather we had this spring, I
set out on my run.  Stopped halfway for my cold drink.  Sat outside in the
beer garden to drink it.  I sat in the corner, well away from the pub, on a
wooden bench.  Only I didn't sit on it properly, I sat straddling it, with
the thin material of my shorts stretched across my wide open pussy.  I
could feel my bare ass cheeks on the wood, where my shorts had ridden up.
I'd sat in the corner for a reason - it was very near a group of well
dressed lads, all suited and booted, who I knew full well wouldn't be able
to keep their eyes, and probably their hands, off me.

   I was correct - I'd only been sat there a couple of minutes when the
group gravitated towards me.  They chatted me up.  They were very drunk. 
They were also very 'touchy feely', stroking my legs, back, hair.  I didn't
object - I loved it!  With no opposition, they grew bolder, stroking my
bare buttocks, fingering the visible part of my tattoo on the top of my
pubis.....

   By now they had surrounded me - I was invisible from the pub - but I
knew people were there and being touched up in such a public place was
turning me on.  I don't know if it was the small moan I let slip, or the
growing wet patch on the crotch of my running shorts, but one of the guys
was encouraged enough to slip his fingers down inside my running shorts,
and along my hot wet slit.  It felt so good, so right, so hot, and so so
public!  They gently lifted me up, and my shorts were rolled down clear of
my pussy - simultaneously other hands rolled my cropped vest up over my
head, baring my breasts.  To all intents and purposes I was naked in the
pub beer garden - and I didn't care!

   Didn't care?  I was beyond caring.  Naked outside, hands all over my
breasts, rolling my nipples, fingers in my pussy, bringing me closer and
closer......

   Then it stopped.  Angry voices.  Angry female voices!  Slut!  Tart! 
Bitch!  Directed at me.  The guys backed off like little kids caught with
their hands in the cookie jar.  I was now face to face with four angry
girlfriends - very angry girlfriends - and guess what?  - it wasn't their
boyfriends fault - it was mine.  I was the one that had been stripped, but
it was my fault.

   They dragged me, still topless, and with my shorts round my knees,
through a side gate from the beer garden, and on to the path by the
riverside - the very same path I used to run back to my car - so I knew how
quiet it was.  I tried to struggle - to scream - to shout, but I got
punched in the stomach for my troubles, and something stuffed into my
mouth. I was dragged to the rivers edge and stripped of what little I had
left on - off came my shorts, trainers and socks, and into the river they
went.

   I won't repeat all of what they did to me - it has no place here - but
they left me in considerable pain and still with a five mile walk back to
my car, in broad daylight, stark naked.  Was I seen?  well, put it this
way, this part of the river Avon is very popular with fishermen.......

   I still love to attract attention to myself by the way I dress, but now
I'm a little more careful about what I wish for.

   xxxlovexxx
   Emma