Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ï>¿Getting My Clothes Back by i_would

   Gone for a 10-day business trip, he sets up an unexpected challenge to
keep his wife occupied and entertained for the period.  A story of
unplanned exhibitionism and casual extramarital sex.

   Getting My Clothes Back Ch.  01

   When she wakes up, most of her wardrobe has disappeared!

   Introduction

   This story starts on a Monday morning -- the start of a ten-day period
where I would be home alone, as my husband of 15 years left for a business
trip.  One of the major conventions his company took part in, after his
recent promotion this year he had to stay there for the full duration and
then some.  As I was unemployed at the time I was prepared for a very quiet
period, without much to do.  My husband obviously thought he should do
something about that.

   When I woke up that morning I almost immediately noticed the huge
padlocks on the doors to our wardrobe.  That was of course the moment I
realised I had been set up for something, I just didn't yet realise the
full extent of it.  Sleepy as I still was, I decided to simply get up and
go about my morning routine, worrying about the padlocks later.  Shower,
then to the kitchen for breakfast.

   It was now that I found a note on the kitchen table, together with a red
rose.  It did look really sweet, in that pink envelope, even though I just
knew it spelled trouble.

   "Dear Charlee,

   For the next ten days you will be alone, as I have to go to this fair.
I'm feeling bad for having to leave you for this long, so I set up a little
challenge for you that hopefully keeps you entertained until I come back.
You must have noticed the padlocks on your wardrobe, they're that
ridiculous in size for a reason.  As you no doubt realise by now, those
padlocks are part of the challenge.

   The keys to those locks, as well as the clothes from your drawers, are
safely"

   At this point I stopped reading, dropped the letter, and ran off to the
bedroom where I opened my underwear drawer.  To my shock it was empty.  The
second drawer of the chest was also empty, the third contained some of my
clothes.  Two dresses, two tops, a shorty shorts and a miniskirt, together
with some footwear -- one pair of stilettos, two pairs of medium heels that
were fairly high but rather easy to walk on and a pair of flip flops. 
Items that I normally kept in the wardrobe, the one with the locks.  Even
the laundry basket was empty, as were all his drawers.

   So that was all I was going to get for the time being.  How could I
possibly go out like that, without any underwear?  The last thing I was
interested in was to get repped for indecent exposure, or worse...  Then it
also dawned on me that I had a lunch appointment with some friends later in
the week, which I was really looking forward to, but how to explain my
state of dress?  They would notice instantly my lack of a bra.  At least I
had one set of panties, the ones I just slept in...

   With my stomach in a knot and my brain hazy and confused I slowly walked
back to the kitchen, to see what more you had to say.  It turned out I
dropped the letter onto my pancakes, so now I had to read in it through
maple syrup and butter stains.  Oh well.  It figures.

   The keys to those locks, as well as the clothes from your drawers, are
safely stored in a self storage locker.  Four people, all of whom you have
met before, carry a part of the solution.  None of them can access the
locker on their own, you must get all four parts.  Three pairs of numbers
to form the 6-digit key, and finally the address of the facility.  The
locker has been booked by a third party, so you really need that code to
get access."

   He really thought about everything, as usual.

   The letter then gave a list of three names and phone numbers.  One of
the names vaguely familiar as a colleague of his, the other two not. 
Three? Am I not supposed to get clues from four people?  Three sets of two
digits and an address, that's four.  This could not be a mistake, I have
that much trust in his planning skills.  It's not just because he got that
promotion.  So I continued reading.

   "To get your clue from them, your task is to find and meet up with them,
be theirs for the following 12 hours, and then in exchange for the clothes
you have on or with you when you meet them you'll get their part of the
clue.  Feel free to bring your purse, it's not a piece of clothing."

   Great.  So sex was obviously part of the deal, so that was going to be
interesting.  Now I just wondered who I was being set up with.  I was
hoping that at the very least they would be hot, then it could be quite
entertaining.  It's just that after spending 12 hours with them and
receiving my clue I'd have to drive home naked.  Presumably it'd be late at
night or early morning, so at least I would have the cover of darkness and
fewer people on the streets.  It also meant I had to plan the use of the
very few clothes that I still had access to carefully, to at least have
something decent to go and get the keys from the locker.  Buying new
clothes felt like cheating.

   I was feeling nervous and excited at the same time.  Scared as well.

   Knowing they must be his friends I opened my laptop.  My fingers were
shaking as I logged in to my hubby's Facebook account, and sure enough,
there they were.  At least they all looked good in the photos.  But here
again a surprise: I didn't expect Morgan to be a woman.  Indeed, it's a
name used for both genders, but my husband knows I'm only really interested
in men.

   When I saw her face I realised I had met her before, at one of my
husband's company functions two, three years ago.  I must admit I mostly
remember the guy that was at her side, her husband.  A bit older than me, I
estimated him to be in his early or mid 50s, making him some fifteen years
older than me and seriously hot.  Morgan was so nice to lend him to me for
a dance or three, and he really got my juices flowing.  Hubby must remember
my state of arousal after that party, as I normally can easily wait until
we're home.  This starts to look interesting.  I'd absolutely be happy to
spend some private time with this guy.

   Next I looked at Donald.  I liked his photos.  Blond, blue eyes,
muscular chest and tanned.  He looked young, late 20s, maybe 30.  His
Facebook feed showed he spent most of his time at the beach as a surfing
instructor.  I've always wanted to learn surfing, but why didn't he at
least leave me a bathing suit of sorts?  Of course on the beach I wouldn't
stand out too much in my skimpy clothing, but what I had in that drawer
didn't feel suitable for swimming, let alone surfing.

   Now I really had no idea where I would have met him before.  The letter
said I knew all these people already.  The whole setup suggested that there
must have been some kind of attraction as well.  I'm no stranger to
flirting, on the contrary.  A bit of a tease, a hint of seduction, just for
the fun of it, and when hubby is on one of his longer trips I'm allowed to
go further.  However I really could not recall Donald.  I wonder what he
would even see in an old fart like me, easily having a decade or more on
him.  He looks like he won't have a shortage of female attention,
especially with that job of his, getting to show off that chest all the
time.

   Oliver turned out to be the owner of a strip club.  I am definitely owed
an explanation on how my husband got to know the owner of a strip club that
well.  I again really could not recall having met him before.  At least in
his picture he looked hot, wearing a pretty nice suit.  I didn't expect
that for a strip club owner, but then I realised I had no idea what I
expected a strip club owner to look like in the first place.  Or did I meet
him before...  it must be.  I suddenly remembered a Christmas party, a year
and a half ago, where we ended up being invited by an old business
acquaintance of mine.  I managed to get pretty drunk, and hubby had to pull
me from the embrace of this guy I was making out with at the end of the
evening when our ride home arrived.  That was quite embarrassing, for both
of us.  That's gotta be him.  I smiled as I thought back to the ride home,
that Uber driver no doubt ended up with yet another interesting story to
tell.

   Now I knew a bit more about these people, I found my phone to call them.
A bit shaky, it took me a while before I got myself to enter the first
number.  I knew I just had to, no choice, being unable to get the keys to
my clothes given this much time would constitute a total and utter fail.

   I decided to start with Morgan.  She answered after a few rings.

   "Hello?"

   "Good morning, this is Charlee, I'm looking for Morgan."

   "Hi Charlee, Morgan speaking.  How're you doing?", a cheerful voice
responded.

   "Fine, thanks.  I got your number from my husband, asking me to contact
you," I continued in a rather formal voice.  No doubt Morgan could hear the
nervousness in my voice.

   "Yes, I was expecting your call.  Wednesday, 2pm, at the club.  That
time it's always quiet, and we can have a chat about this.  Don't bother
dressing up."

   A bit overwhelmed, I stammered my agreement, and she gave me the address
of where to meet her.  I was instructed to simply tell the receptionist I
was her guest.  Confused, I hung up.  I could have known that it was all
fully prepared, and that my calls were expected.

   I called the next number, and it was also answered immediately.

   A friendly sounding female voice answered, "Donald's surfing school,
this is Donna speaking, how may I help you?"

   Expecting to get Donald on the phone, not some assistant, my nerves got
the best of me again.  "Oh...  hi...  euhm...  I'm looking for Donald."

   "Donald isn't here at the moment, I'm his office assistant.  What can I
do for you?"

   "Euhm...  my name is Charlee, I got a note telling me to contact Donald.
So that's why I'm contacting Donald.  But he's not in.  How can I reach
him?" I stammered.  I'm so not good at this.

   "Oh, Charlee.  Yes.  Donald told me to expect your call.  First time
surfing for you, right?"

   "Yes."

   "Good, good.  He told me to tell you he has scheduled you for this
afternoon, at two."

   "Two this afternoon.  OK," I replied.  So that means game on.  "How can
I find him?" Oh man, this was getting real, fast.

   "Oh, he didn't tell you?  Oh, OK, just go to the beach restaurant.  La
Paloma.  The tapas restaurant on the north beach, we operate from there. 
You know?"

   "I do, thanks.  Sorry for sounding a bit odd in my questions, but I
don't know much about this.  I didn't arrange anything.  I don't know
what's the plan even.  I mean, what should I bring?  I suppose we're going
surfing?" My nerves got the better of me at this point and I started
rambling.

   "I see.  Someone else booked this for you, as a surprise gift, right?"

   "I guess so..."

   "Right.  So what's happened, someone booked you a private introduction
class for surfing, and they actually booked Donald for the whole afternoon.
Much longer than usual, I hope you're fit and swim well as surfing is
pretty demanding.  You'll obviously be having breaks.  Oh, I notice the
restaurant is included, refreshments during class and dinner.  You really
got a nice package booked for you.  Of course all equipment is included, so
you're all set."

   "Sounds good.  I'll be there at 2.  La Paloma.  Right?"

   "All correct.  Have a nice day, and have fun, bye!"

   "Bye."

   A bit confused, I ended the call and put down my phone.  I was too
embarrassed to ask whether bathing suits are included in the promised "all
equipment", I just hoped Donald would know about that part.

   I looked at the clock.  It was just past 10 now, meaning I had a few
more hours to get ready.  It was now that I remembered the mention of my
purse in the letter, and realised that must be a hint.  I grabbed my purse
and of course there was yet another surprise.  My car keys were gone, in
their place I found a public transit pass.  Thanks hubby dear for being so
considerate.  That meant I had to forego the privacy of driving, instead
being subjected to the ogling schoolboys while on transit.  The fact that
half of my footwear consisted of high heels was also suddenly seriously
unappealing.  I was in for a seriously hard time remaining decent enough to
get away with this all.

   I grabbed my wallet and checked it -- by now unsurprisingly it was
nearly empty -- just a minimal amount of cash, my ATM cards and credit
cards of course gone.  At least he didn't mess with my phone, so I'd be
able to order food deliveries, paid by pre-registered credit card.  But
there would be no monetary tips available for the delivery guy...  I may
have to think of something else.

   In the purse I also found an invitation to the opening of an art
exhibition in a gallery on the other side of town on the day before hubby's
return.  There would be a collection of nude photos on display.  That was
interesting, as a year or two prior I had done a nude photo session myself.
I don't remember the name of that photographer, but I very much remember he
was hot, and the whole experience left me seriously wet between the legs. A
handwritten note on the back of the invitation card mentioned a cafe near
the gallery and a time, a few hours earlier than the opening, and
presumably meant to be at that date.  It was signed: Calvin.  The name did
not ring a bell.  I figured I'd worry about this part later.

   That left one final number, the strip club owner, Oliver.  I've never
stripped for an audience before, and that was no doubt what I was set up
for.  But I really wanted my clothes back before his return, if only to
complete the challenge.  So I got my nerves together and called the final
number.

   Again the call was expected.  Sunday was the day, it was their weekly
amateur night.  A combination of open stage for girls to try stripping, and
a little friendly competition that doubled as try-out for those that were
serious to continue.  While Oliver did admit that most of his regular girls
were under 25, he didn't mind me being quite a bit older.  He was of the
philosophy that as long as a person feels good in their skin, they're
beautiful, and that everyone should feel good in their skin as everyone can
be beautiful that way.  An interesting statement for a strip club operator
where raw sex appeal is what his clients come for.

   I was told to arrive mid afternoon for a training session, before my
first time on stage that evening.  Oliver confirmed that we indeed met on
that Christmas party, that he very much remembers me and our flirting, that
he almost pooped his pants when my husband showed up, then was very
embarrassed when I gave him a final quick goodbye kiss, very confused as I
simply left with my husband, and that he was definitely looking forward to
seeing me again.

   So that was it.

   That just left me planning my clothing for the week, knowing that I
would lose whatever I was wearing after each encounter.  Hubby must have
taken my pyjamas into account as that'd be all that I'd have left on the
final day!

   Luckily it was summer, sun shining, a beautiful day, and the weather
forecast called for more of the same for the week to come.  At the very
least I was dressed somewhat appropriately for the season.  The long
evenings were also a plus, as the last thing I would want in those clothes,
or lack of it, is to be out alone after dark --



   Getting My Clothes Back Ch.  02

   First encounter: fun on the beach.  Sand, sea and surfing.

   First adventure -- Donald the surfer

   It was past noon already when I finally got myself to leave home,
nervously setting off for the beach.  I settled on wearing my tank top and
hot pants, as that would give the best cover and had the best chance of
staying in place when surfing.  I also decided to go barefoot, saving the
flip flops for use later.

   It was nice and warm with a light breeze, and I enjoyed the beams of the
sun on my skin.  I felt my confidence return as I walked down the street to
the bus station, and figured that the best way of not getting too much
attention was to act normally.  As normal as possible.  Ignoring my
nipples, quite visible without being hard.  Be very careful where I put my
bare feet.  My bag with towel and water bottle should make it clear I'm
heading to the beach, explaining my bare feet.

   At the bus stop there were just a few other people.  I lined up, and a
few minutes later the bus arrived.  I got on and got myself a seat.  I
obviously caught the eye of the kid on the other side of the aisle as he
kept looking at me.  He must have enjoyed the sight.  My boobs bouncing
with every bump in the road, nipples forming growing bumps in the fabric
thanks to both the rubbing due to the movement of the bus and the cool air
conditioning.  I just ignored his looks.  Maybe I should have used my towel
as a cape, hiding those pokeys from view.  A bit late now for that.  As the
bus filled up I got more stares from people, especially those that had to
stand nearby.  Men looking appreciative, their female partners not so much.
I felt a bit flustered, not used to this much attention, and just started
looking out of the window.  It did also make me feel good, all that
interest shown in me.

   Soon after the bus arrived at the interchange, where I changed to the
bus to the beach.  Lots of people waiting to get on, all dressed ready for
the beach.  The bus was packed, I had to stand, and got squeezed against a
young guy wearing just his Speedos and carrying a towel.  He was well over
half a head taller than me.  As the bus was packed I couldn't prevent my
left breast touching the side of his body at times.  He must have felt it,
I saw him looking down at me, at my chest.  I felt so embarrassed.  My
nipples poking out, the thin cloth was not leaving much to the imagination.
Would he be able to feel my nipple?  Then I saw a faint smile on his face,
and looked down on myself to hide my embarrassment.  I think he liked what
he saw, or felt, or both, as there was a serious bump forming in his
Speedos.  He probably did feel my nipple.

   This realisation made me feel even more embarrassed, but also a bit
excited giving him such a reaction.  My nipples got even harder, the
rubbing against his skin suddenly felt kinda naughty.  The shaking of the
bus made my chest touch him time and again, but I was not making much
effort in preventing it, at least a lot less than a decent girl should have
done.  Looking down so he couldn't see my face I smiled shyly.  His speedos
started to look seriously small and uncomfortable.  At least also something
fun for me to watch.  I wonder how embarrassed he felt by this.

   Luckily the bus ride did not last too long and a few minutes later we
reached the surfing beach where I got off, together with what seemed like
half the bus.  The speedo guy didn't get off, I was glad, he may have
gotten too interested in me.  It left me free to pursue my mission: finding
Donald and taking some surfing lessons.

   Nervously I walked up and down the beach a few times, enjoying the
weather.  I quickly spotted the restaurant in question, but did not yet
dare to go in.  I anyway had almost half an hour left before meeting him,
having no idea how long the bus would take I left home a bit early. 
Finally, with a few minutes spare, I firmly set my sights on the
restaurant, walked up to it, and took a deep breath before entering.

   Inside I saw a number of tables and a U-shaped bar in the middle with a
row of seats.  I didn't see Donald yet, maybe he was late?  He must be
expecting me.  I felt really nervous again, also rather aroused.  The
Speedos guy on the bus, the upcoming planned sex with a stranger, unnerving
yet so arousing.  OK the sex part was not explicitly mentioned, but very
much implied.  Also Donald was supposedly not a stranger but I really had
no idea where to place him in my life's history.

   I walked to the bar, took a seat and sat down.  The moment I looked up
and to the other side of the bar I saw him: Donald.  I looked at him,
stared at him is a better word as it was a bit too long a look.  The moment
he spotted me and made eye contact I felt caught and immediately turned
away my gaze.  I grabbed my phone, looked at his image, and glanced across
the bar again to confirm.  Yes, definitely him.  Did he recognise me?  I
couldn't tell.  He could just as well simply have been checking me out.  He
no doubt knew I would be coming for him.

   I swallowed, took a deep breath, another deep breath, and said to
myself, "Now or never, go for it, girl." I got up, and slowly made my way
to the other side of the bar, trying not to look at him.  I was embarrassed
and excited, my heart beating in my throat.  I had not much of an idea what
was going to happen in the next twelve hours other than that this guy was
quite certainly going to want to fuck me.  He looked fuckable to me at
least.  He appeared younger than me, indeed probably late 20s.  I suddenly
felt old, would he still be interested in me?

   He didn't notice me or was purposefully ignoring me when I approached
him.  I'm not sure.

   "Are you Donald?" I asked.

   "Charlee?" he replied.  So he was expecting me.  The way he said it made
me think he had no idea how I looked before I approached him.

   "Yes," I said simply.

   "So good to see you again.  Do take a seat.  Are you hungry?  Would you
like something to eat?"

   "I am, thanks." I suddenly realised it was well past my normal lunch
time and I hadn't had anything since breakfast.  Donald seemed to recognise
me, I still had no idea where we met before.

   He passed me the menu and said, "order what you like, have a drink, it's
included.  Eat well, after all you're mine for the next twelve hours so you
need the energy."

   He said it so casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world
to be assigned a girlfriend for a period of time.  It made me feel a bit
strange.  Does he do this more?  And where did I meet him before?

   While we had some tapas we chatted a bit.  He knew quite a bit about me,
obviously.  He put me at ease, and made me forget about the challenge.

   When I finished my food, he asked me, "have you ever been surfing?"

   "No, I haven't, always wanted to but never got the chance," I replied.

   "No problem.  We'll just start at the basics.  You're in luck with the
weather, the surf is perfect for learning now."

   "I'd love to, but I don't have a bathing suit, so maybe another time."

   "I know.  You may borrow this bikini, it should be your size."

   He produced a small bag, and passed it to me.  I could have known, it
contained one of my own bikinis.  The smallest, sexiest one that I own, and
which I hadn't worn for what must have been several years.  A bikini meant
for sunbathing rather than for swimming, as it will become a bit see
through when wet.  I will never forget how I found out about that part.

   That's also when it clicked.  That's how I met Donald before.  He was a
lifeguard at a hotel pool, the one where I took this bikini for its first
swim.  The pool where I was floating around for a while as he couldn't keep
his eyes off of me.  The embarrassment that I felt like half an hour later
when I realised why he, and quite a few other men, were so interested in
me. That bikini.  My face felt flushed when I looked at him, he was
smiling. It was not the kind of bathing suit I was hoping for, nonetheless
it felt like a better choice than wearing my normal clothes, so I had
Donald show me the changing rooms.

   Learning to surf was actually quite fun, my bikini notwithstanding.  I
did get quite some attention indeed.  The bikini became rather transparent,
but more troublesome was that the top did not stay in place really well.  I
was constantly readjusting it, and that of course made onlookers focus on
my tits even more.  I'm sure Donald was enjoying what was on display, at
least his eyes were glued to me.  Well, that's where his eyes should be
anyway as he was teaching me how to surf, and to his credit was doing that
very professionally.

   I did the best I could by ignoring it and just going with the flow, not
wanting to attract even more attention.  It was just too embarrassing, even
though the attention was also a bit of a turn-on.  I can't deny that.  I
was particularly pleased that Donald liked the view, as I was quite sure he
had more plans for me.  I was also looking forward to seeing more of this
well shaped piece of male hotness.

   The surfing went well, and thanks to Donald's coaching I was quickly
able to stand for a while riding some small waves.  We surfed the afternoon
away and as the sun was getting low we called it a day and went back to the
tapas bar.  Donald ordered us a nice dinner with some sparkly, it was
delicious and I must admit to having had a glass or two too many.  The
drinks and his manners made me loosen up and fully soothed my nerves.  The
sun slowly set over the ocean, turning the sky orange, then red, and
finally black leaving just a small moon shining over us.

   The bar slowly got empty, and Donald also got up.

   "Time to go, they're about to close."

   I grabbed the hand he extended to me and pulled myself up, almost making
him lose his balance and fall onto me.  Giggling I followed him out, not
feeling all too steady on my legs, wondering where he would take me.  I
didn't have to wonder long, as we walked straight into the dunes.  First
along the path, but soon he left the path and we walked over the sand.  I
felt excited, aroused, as I knew what was next.  For the same reason I was
a bit nervous.  Would he be nice to me?  Take good care of me?

   "Here's my favourite place," he said.  "A nice pan, private and
sheltered.  I often spend the night here, no need to go home and waste time
I could spend surfing."

   It was so dark I could hardly see him.  I really wondered how he knew
where we were, how he could find this place in the dark, even considering
he must have been here many times.

   He sat down on the sand, and the moment I sat down next to him he
grabbed me and pulled me towards him.  His lips found mine, and as we
kissed he dropped on his back on the sand pulling me with him.  He felt
strong, taking control, firmly but gently.  I felt his tongue trying to
enter my mouth and opened up to welcome him.  His hands started to push up
my top, and soon he was massaging my back.  It felt good, my excitement
started to rise quickly.  The whole day had been such an erotic adventure!

   He pulled up my top further.  I sat up, straddling him, and allowing him
to pull my top over my head, leaving me topless.  He pulled himself up, and
started kissing my breasts.  I curved my chest forward, and held his head
with one hand as I balanced myself with the other.  He kissed, sucked and
nibbled first one, then the other nipple.  It felt very good.

   His treatment got me really horny and wanting.  I fumbled in between us,
found his pants, and pushed them down releasing his cock.  He was really
hard already, I stroked my hand up and down a few times as he continued to
suck my nipples.

   Then without further ado I moved off of him just enough to get one leg
out of my pants leaving them dangling on my other thigh, and then planted
myself right on top of him.  I was too horny, and after half a day worth of
foreplay I just wanted to feel a cock inside of me.  It felt great.  He
dropped back onto the sand as I rode him slowly.  Before he was in control,
now it was my turn.

   It was a good position to take him really deep, and considering his
grunts he enjoyed it as well.  Slowly I fucked him.  I was so excited, so
turned on.  I hoped he could last, but wasn't too sure after the arousal he
got, looking at me all the time, expecting this.  I knew I for one wouldn't
take long to come.  I slowly increased the pace, but then he started to
play with my nipples and I couldn't stop myself any more.  I fucked him
hard, coming quickly on his hard cock, making him come as well, shooting
his load deep inside of me.  A hard, quick, urgent fuck between two very
horny people eager for release.

   After sitting on his slowly deflating cock for a while I slid off, and
lay myself down in the still warm sand next to him.

   We didn't say anything for a while, as we both lay there in bliss.  I
was thinking about what just happened.  I just had sex with a bloke that I
barely knew, and I loved it.  Half the beach had seen my nearly naked body,
that bikini was not leaving much to the imagination, and it was exciting,
all thanks to Donald whom I somehow knew would keep me safe, and my loving
hubby who arranged all this.

   A gentle wind blew, and I shivered, suddenly feeling a bit cold.

   "Are you cold?" Donald asked.

   "Yes, a bit.  It's getting fresh."

   "You want to go home?  I can take you."

   "That may be a good idea," I replied.  Home, bed, shower.  Sounded just
like what I needed to get rid of the sand, salt, and sweat from today's
activities.

   Donald drove me home.  My place, not his.  He had still a few hours left
with me which he did not let go to waste.  A bed is definitely far more
comfortable than a dune, it was nice and warm under the blankets.

   He made me scream, big time.  It was a good night.

   Donald left with the clothes I wore when I met him and the bikini,
handing me an envelope in return, containing a paper with the clue written
on it.  The first two digits of the code.

   I had a long hot shower, and then went to bed.  It took me a while to
fall asleep, thinking back to all the emotions of the day, and I didn't
wake up until late the next morning, feeling rather refreshed, but at the
same time a bit worried.  How would I be able to get through the next week,
as I was about to lose more and more of my clothes, some of which were
seemingly too sheer to wear in public without anything under it to begin
with, leaving me in the end with nothing more than what I normally sleep
in!