Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. >The Long Weekend by QuietCustom Part 1 -Don -(TM)t get into trouble, - said the voice from the car. -Shan -(TM)t! - Shellie lied with a playful salute. Seemingly satisfied, the car pulled out into the cul-de-sac and turned toward the road. Shellie stood and waved till the car was out of sight. Entering the house, Shellie took a deep breath. All this was hers till her parents came back. They -(TM)d invited her along, but she -(TM)d carefully declined. -My first year at college really wore me out. - This, too, had been a lie. It was Friday evening. They -(TM)d return Sunday night. Two full days of freedom at home. Stationed in the foyer, she glanced at the clock. Ten minutes till seven. She had to time it right. She made her way through the house, checking the windows, drawing the curtains. She even checked her brother -(TM)s room, normally forbidden, but he was away, still up at camp. Only the kitchen proved problematic, separated from the backyard by sliding glass doors. But the backyard was empty and hedged in by trees. She determined it was safe, and returned to the foyer, stopping only to take stock of the house keys on the counter. Two minutes to go. She stood there staring, slightly swaying, her attention fixed on the ticking of the clock, a nervous energy bubbling within. She -(TM)d timed herself in preparation. She -(TM)d even practiced, shaving it down. Ten seconds was all she needed. One minute left. It felt like forever. -Don -(TM)t worry too much about your first year, - her parents had told her. -College is a chance to discover yourself. - Her mouth adopted a small, knowing smile. The big hand reached the ten. She was off. Grabbing the hem of her shirt with both hands, she pulled it up above her head, her short, messy blonde bob of hair furthered mussed. Casting it aside, she kicked off her shoes, stepping on her socks, first one, then the other, to pull her feet free. Then came the shorts. The clock was ticking. Hooking her fingers into her sides, she shucked off her pants and panties together, exposing a modest little tuft of fur. Last came the bra, the exciting conclusion! She removed it with a single second to spare. It was seven o -(TM) clock and Shellie was naked. Right on time, exactly on schedule. She clasped her hands and turned from the clock, facing a mirror next to the coats. Her eyes drank in her own naked form, brushing aside her short, disheveled hair, her freckled cheeks blushing with furtive mischief. Shutting her eyes, she forced her face into a serious expression. She offered a salute, locking eyes with her reflection, repeating the words she -(TM)d practiced in her mind. -I solemnly surrender the right to my clothes! For 48 hours, I promise to be naked! - Nodding sagely, she immediately burst into scattered laughter. -I -(TM)m really doing it --I -(TM)m really --oh man -- - Leaving her clothes in the foyer, though not before sweeping them aside with her foot, she stepped into the living room, her arms instinctively covering her privates. She had to remind herself to let go. Just yesterday, she -(TM)d been here with her parents, discussing the future, probing her plans. -Mom. Dad. I want to be a nudist! - She hadn -(TM)t said it then, of course. Nor would she have meant it. She said it now, to no one. She only kind of meant it. She traced the glass of the coffee table with a finger. An innocuous bit of furniture, yet it beckoned all the same. She lay down on top of it, face up, her arms locked to her sides. The room was empty. She imagined it was full. -Snack time~, - she said, with a chipper little flourish. How many guests had they entertained here? Grandparents, relatives, friends of the family? It filled her with perverse satisfaction to think they -(TM)d eat from the table that now served her. Her father often kept out a bowl of peanuts. She imagined, instead, an anonymous guest, reaching for her, grasping her breast, or pinching her nipples. She shuddered with delight. Rising up from the coffee table, she made her way into the kitchen, again recoiling at the sight of the yard. -Easy girl, easy, - she chided herself, a hand to her shoulder. She calmed her breathing. Walking to the fridge, she opened the freezer, and bathed her body in the frigid air. The cold from the freezer enveloped her body. She shivered and savored the nervous sensation. Looking to the yard, she felt emboldened. She shut the fridge and made her way to the sliding glass doors. The outside was warm with dwindling light. She propped the door open with a small flower pot. These doors, she knew, had automatic locks. Stepping out into the yard was a whole new experience. Naked, outside, where anyone could see! The tree line shielded her from anyone beyond, but the neighbors to the side would have front row seats. She glanced both ways, confirming she was alone. Then she broke into a sprint and into a cartwheel. -Ah~, - she said nervously, her breath quicking, -I -(TM)m naked~. Buck naked~. I -(TM)m naked outside~. - Repeating the word seemed to emphasize her state. She glanced to the side, double-checking she was safe, but a part of her yearned to be caught, to be seen. Then she saw it, and remembered. How could she forget? The neighbors kept a pool, which was currently uncovered. She glanced up at their house, and saw no lights. She was seized with a need to do something rash. A short fence separated the two properties. Shellie thought back to her track and field days. She -(TM)d easily cleared hurdles of similar size. -Yes. - She had to. She couldn -(TM)t resist. Running through the yard, she leapt over the fence, her milky white body flushed with excitement. She touched down on the far side, her bare feet finding purchase in the grass. Now she was naked in someone else -(TM)s yard. The pool was the obvious attraction (she confirmed that it was filled), but another drew her eye. Her neighbors, too, had sliding glass doors. She approached with caution, and looked inside. The kitchen was empty, but beyond was the den. The lights were off, but the TV was on. Anonymous figures, hidden in shadow, were watching a movie, totally engaged. Shellie swallowed, and shivered. She placed a hand against the glass frame of the door, and felt its coolness. Then, without thinking, she pressed her body against the glass, flattening her breasts against the surface. -Ah~. - They had no idea she was here. They -(TM)d know her, of course. Everyone knew everyone. She -(TM)d attended their parties, helped care for their yard. She -(TM)d been in their pool, several times, as a guest. Now she was naked, without excuse, her svelte body pressed up against their glass. -One --two -- - She began to count. She -(TM)d already decided: ten seconds was enough. No matter what happened, she -(TM)d remain for ten seconds. If they happened to look -- -Three --four -- - Suddenly one of the figures stood. Shellie seized up, filled with panic. She rushed away from the glass, hiding to the side, her hands at her mouth, trying urgently to calm her breath. She waited a moment, but nothing happened. She peaked back inside. No one had moved. The rising figure, whatever the reason, had returned to their seat. The movie played on. Shellie let out a long slow sigh of relief, her arms wrapped about her naked form, quivering with fear. Her nipples jutted outwards, as if at attention. She looked up and stared longingly at the pool. She wanted, badly, to dive inside. Like nothing in her life, she wanted this pool. -No, no. - She shook her head. There would be another time. She lived here, after all. Creeping back over the fence, she returned to her own kitchen door. The flower pot had held, as she knew it would. Opening the door, she spied the key. Despite her recent brush with discovery, a new idea was already churning. Stepping toward the table, she plucked the keys up. She returned to the yard, closing the door, nudging the pot aside with her foot. The sliding door clicked, and she knew it was locked. -Oh nooo~, - she said in mock surprise. -I -(TM)ve been locked out~. - She -(TM)d have to go around. Sneaking around the edge of the house, keeping low to the ground, she emerged out onto the cul-de-sac. Lights were on in various homes, but no one was outside. That was very good for her. Standing up, leaning against the wall, she surveyed the scene, then ran for the door, the keys pressed tightly into her palm. Reaching the porch, she unlocked the door, and rushed inside. It was --underwhelming. Having pulling in the door shut, hearing the click, she walked into the living room and tossed the keys on the coffee table. -I guess there -(TM)s no substitute for the real thing, - she thought. Shellie calmed down and made dinner for herself: an apple, some water, and yesterday -(TM)s pizza. She stayed naked while she ate, then cleaned up, and stretched. She looked back at the clock. It was already eight. Going upstairs, she spied her brother -(TM)s room. She stepped inside and did a little spin. There was something transgressive about it, and yet, it failed to excite her. She frowned, and left. Entering her own room, she spied her sneakers, and a new thought began to brew in her mind. Heading for the closet, she rummaged through her things and pulled out her old running shoes, worn but intact. Without donning socks, she put them on her feet. She curled her toes and felt a shiver. The prospect of being seen naked was embarrassing, but somehow the presence of shoes made it worse. You could be naked, buck naked, and cook up an excuse. You -(TM)d gone swimming, for instance, and lost your swimsuit. But shoes were deliberate. You tied them in place. She couldn -(TM)t deflect that with plausible lies. She peeked out the window, drawing aside the curtain. The cul-de-sac was empty. It had gotten quite dark. The front yards, of course, were immaculately kept, but a single tree stood watch in the middle of the road, surrounded by a grass-covered concrete island. Shellie swallowed. She had to do it. She crept down the stairs, as though worried she might disturb some non-existent guest. She stopped at the front door and steadied her breath. Pushing it open, just slightly ajar, she poked her head out and studied the tree. It was an old tree. It -(TM)d been there as long as she could remember. She surveyed the front yard, and those of her neighbors. No one was outside or near any windows. She licked her lips. She stepped out the door and gently closed it, catching the frame of the door with the latch. It seemed shut at a glance, but would open quickly. Just in case she needed to escape. She turned toward the tree, and felt her heart beating in her stomach. She puffed out her chest, and broke into a run. The soft grass quickly transformed into driveway. She reached the tree, and clung to its trunk. She turned around, orienting her body outward. She wrapped the back of her arms -(TM)round the tree, as though she were the figurehead on an old ship. -One --two -- - This time she -(TM)d do it. No matter what, she wouldn -(TM)t flee. -Three --four -- - She could feel her heart racing. She was naked and exposed in the middle of the street. Growing up she -(TM)d been something of a tomboy, just one of the guys, running out and about in the yard. If anyone were to notice her now, there could be no doubt she was a girl. Her chest rose and fell. Her nipples quivered. -Five --six -- - This tree had been a fixture of her youth. They -(TM)d attempted to climb it, used it for tag. Now it presented her nubile, naked body. She should do this again. Maybe every night. -Seven --eight -- - She imagined herself at the zoo, in the zoo, a human specimen for visitors to watch. Why wasn -(TM)t that a job? Even if it wasn -(TM)t, she -(TM)d gladly volunteer. Ambitions? Dreams? Forget the future. She wanted to be naked, now and forever. -Nine --ten! - A light turned on. Shellie froze, her erotic daydreams replaced yet again with fear. No. She was stupid. She was just a stupid girl. She leapt from the tree and ran towards the house, her every hair on end. Reaching the porch, she fell down to her hands and knees, curling up into a ball, making herself as small as possible, pushing herself flat against the door. A minute passed. Nothing happened. No one came out. No one approached her. Raising her head, Shellie looked to the light, and saw the frosted glass of someone -(TM)s bathroom window. -Ahhh~. - Twice was enough for one night, she decided. She got up to her feet, knees weak, leaning against the side of the house. She wrapped her arms around herself. -Easy there. Easy. You -(TM)re still in the clear. - She turned the doorknob. The door didn -(TM)t open. Part 2 Shellie froze. She turned the knob. Click, click. She pulled on the door. -Oh --oh no --no no no no -- - She tried with both hands. The result was the same. She -(TM)d locked herself outside her house. Her parents weren -(TM)t home, nor was her brother. She was stranded outside in a pair of sneakers, and nothing but. She withdrew from the door, hugging herself, one arm wrapped across her breasts, the other shielding her southern intimates. -Ha --ha ha ha. This isn -(TM)t, - she swallowed, looking left, then right, -This isn -(TM)t -- - She shivered. She -(TM)d remembered these summer nights being warmer. Creeping along the front porch, she turned the corner, edging her way across the house, checking each window that passed her by. Of course, they were locked. She -(TM)d made sure of that. She grit her teeth in adorable frustration. She glanced over her shoulder. The neighbors -(TM) lights had been off on both sides. The house on the left had been watching a movie. She scurried, now, in view of the right. The house remained quiet, with every blind drawn. Shellie let out a sigh of relief, long and quivering. She steadied herself. Rounding the corner, she remembered the kitchen! She -(TM)d propped the door open, hadn -(TM)t she? She rushed to find out. Light poured out from the sliding glass doors, but the pot had been moved. That -(TM)s right. She -(TM)d forgotten. Shellie rested her head against the glass, looking inside. -Mom and dad are gonna kill me. - The back of the house proved impregnable as well. Slinking down the left side, she prayed for a point of entry. One of these windows had to be loose. Each passing sill brought further disappointment, until one budged. Her eyes went wide. It was one of the living room windows, facing the back of her father -(TM)s armchair. It -(TM)d be a squeeze, but entirely doable. With her svelte, trim body, she could weasel inside. The room beyond was dark, but that didn -(TM)t matter. After all, no one was home. She placed both hands at the foot of the window, prying at the bottom, lifting, heaving. She arched her back, and the window slowly shifted. -Yes --yes -- - Just a little more -- At last, with a flourish, the window shot open! She could scarcely believe it. -Yes! Yes! - She pumped both fists in the air, and was immediately bathed in light. Shellie clapped her hands about her body and dropped to the ground, flat against the grass. She stared up at the source of the light. The movie was over. The neighbors were getting up. She heard some murmurs, but nothing intelligible. Had they seen her? Was this it? -It -(TM)s --not what it looks like, - she whispered to no one, as if on instinct. Oh good, her brain responded, cause it looks like you -(TM)re naked in full view of everyone. -N-no, - she retorted, and shivered with uncertainty. -I -(TM)m w-wearing s-s-sneakers. - Ah yes, apologies. That makes all the difference. Even flush against the lawn, she felt visible. Slowly, carefully, she crept along the grass, inching her body closer to the neighbors. Under their window was the safest location. If she could reach it, she could wait them out. Slithering her way across the gap between houses, the summer grass prickled and tickled her body. She shuddered, shut her eyes, bit her lip, and continued, each errant blade caressing her form. Her nipples, in particular, were especially sensitive to their provocation, and began to stiffen in response to their touch. Reaching the far window, she huddled beneath, her arms at her shoulders, her elbows pressed against her chest. She still couldn -(TM)t hear exactly what they were saying, but their lack of alarm was cold comfort enough. Then she heard the front door open, followed by heavy footsteps. She seized up, cowering, helpless to escape. Two figures rounded the corner. She clasped a hand against her mouth. The figures ignored her. They approached the open window. -A break-in, you reckon? - -Maybe they forgot. - Shellie trembled at the sound of their voices. It was the twins! They -(TM)d come back from college too? They must -(TM)ve arrived just this morning. The three of them had been inseparable as kids. Even in high school, they still got along. -Hell of a thing to forget. - -Well it sounds like they were pretty busy packing. Dad told you they -(TM)re on a trip, right? - -Right, right. I was hoping to see Shellie. - Shellie trembled. He wanted to see her, and here she was, just waiting to be seen. Surely he meant that in a platonic sense. Old friends hooking up, sharing how they -(TM)d changed. For a fleeting moment, she considered calling out to them --but no, that was foolish. He wanted to see her, see her, see her, every nubile inch of flesh. She imagined being held down, restrained by their hands, spread-eagled and shivering, helpless to resist. No, no, they were better than that. They were practically siblings. She couldn -(TM)t even imagine them --fondling her body, groping her breasts, tweaking her nipples with their expert fingers, recording her with cameras, their naked little pet. A curious sensation bloomed beneath her belly. She crossed her legs. She wanted to cry. -Think you can get inside? I -(TM)m sure they won -(TM)t mind. - She wouldn -(TM)t mind at all, no, not in the least. Her breathing grew heavy behind her hand. She wanted to call out again, but for a different reason. But the rational part of her brain took over. She squeezed her palm against her mouth. -Nah, we came over all the time as kids. Just gotta push this chair aside. It -(TM)s a tight fit, but I think I can manage. - Her heart was racing. One of the twins steadied himself by the window frame, while the other turned and headed for the door. Her door. The one who entered, forcing the armchair aside, turned to shut the window. From her secluded position against the opposite wall, shrouded in darkness beneath the light of their windows, anticipation ran up and down her spine. If he looks at me. If he says my name. There -(TM)d be nothing for it. She -(TM)d belong to him. He might set her free, but then he might not. She honestly didn -(TM)t know which she wanted. Not that it would have mattered. In that moment, it was his to decide. The fate of her lithe, adorable body, lay squarely within his masculine hands. Her daydreams were cut short by the sound of the window. He -(TM)d shut it, locked it, and disappeared within. Shellie shuddered with relief. What a silly girl she was. His brother stood quietly, waiting at the door. Soon the door opened, and the twins were face to face. -Anybody home? - -Not that I can tell. Lots of lights on though. Doesn -(TM)t seem like them. Shellie -(TM)s old man always threw a fit when we left the room and left the lights on as kids. - -Maybe she -(TM)s home? I think mom said something about that? - -I called up the stairs but she didn -(TM)t respond. - Had Shellie not swept aside her clothes, they would -(TM)ve known she was there. Unfortunately, pushed under the rack, obscured by the coats, the twins didn -(TM)t notice. -We should probably call the cops. - -Yeah, wouldn -(TM)t hurt. Come on, let -(TM)s go. - -Wait, hang on. - The one inside disappeared for a moment, only to return, tossing up the keys. -Coffee table, - he said. -Should hold onto these till the cops get here. - -Good idea. - The two shut the door. It would -(TM)ve been a great time for her to call out, but Shellie was a little distracted by the rush. She hadn -(TM)t even heard their conversation at all. She was in her own world. -B-being naked --is the best. - Once she calmed down, and affirmed the coast was clear, she scuttled from her spot back into her hard. Her sense had returned, and was fighting for control. -Close --too close, - she said, breathless, fighting to suppress a nervous smile. She shook her head, her short hair in disarray. A first floor entrance was no longer an option. Looking up from the backyard, she surveyed the house. Then she noticed the upstairs bathroom window, its curtains drawn, but there was her chance! Locking that window had always been a hassle, especially since they left it open during showers, to ventilate the steam. It was closed at the moment, but it wouldn -(TM)t be locked. If she could get up there, that was the ticket. She considered her options. She wasn -(TM)t a climber, and was trying to recall which neighbors had ladders. There were five houses total on their cloistered cul-de-sac. Hers was second from the left. She might have to explore. She looked to the right and was once again greeted by the sight of the pool. The water looked deliciously cold and inviting. Maybe if she -(TM)d let herself get taken by the twins, they -(TM)d keep her in their backyard like their own little mermaid. Shellie shut her eyes and shook her head. No, no, the pool was a distraction. She longed to feel the embrace of water, but she had to solve this problem. -Eyes on the prize. - Besides, she scoffed, the twins would never do that. What had she been thinking? A few summers back she -(TM)d lost her top at the beach by accident, and they -(TM)d returned it to her, covering their eyes. -Maybe I should talk to them, - she muttered, her hand against her chin. It -(TM)d be a little embarrassing, but she trusted they -(TM)d do the right thing. She snapped her fingers. The last house on the right! Her mother said they were planning on repainting, and had just secured a ladder. She looked to the left, towards her immediate neighbors. They kept a flower garden, nothing fancy, but they were meticulous in their care. They -(TM)d definitely notice if her sneakers left prints. She removed her shoes, and placed them by the sliding door. After wearing sneakers without socks, walking around in bare feet felt delightful. She curled her toes, feeling the grass between them. She was light on her feet when she wanted to be. She crept over to the fence, and gingerly stepped over. She -(TM)d have gladly run and leapt, but she might -(TM)ve crushed their flowers. All the same, the sensation of jumping the fence before resurfaced in her mind. Ah, what she wouldn -(TM)t give to face a stretch of hurdles. The soil was soft on this side of the fence, but she tip-toed gingerly through the flowers. On the far side was another fence, another yard beyond. This yard was empty, save for the grass, as was the next one. She was in the clear. She crossed the lawn quickly, and spied the ladder resting against the side of a shed in the last yard over. -Jackpot, - she whispered, hugging herself. She crossed the last fence and carefully approached the ladder. In the windows above, the darkness shifted. Something, or someone, was moving. Shellie dropped to the ground, pressing her body as flat as she could. She waited, and waited, and then she looked up. Craning her slender neck up towards the second story, she caught the eyes of her neighbor -(TM)s old cat. The creature regarded her with quite disdain. But cats couldn -(TM)t talk. She sighed, relieved, her head against the grass. Then the sprinklers went off. There were several scattered across the backyard, each of which had silently clicked into place. Shellie had been transfixed completely on the cat. When the nearest sprinkler head arose, directly behind her, she hadn -(TM)t even noticed. Sprawled out on the ground, arms and legs spread, her pale body bathed in the summer moonlight, she had unintentionally adopted the perfect position, the sprinkler head mere inches from her quivering rosebud. PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS- Shellie -(TM)s eyes snapped open. The sharp spray of ice cold water directly to her pussy completely overwhelmed her, pushing her to the brink. She clasped her hands to her mouth, gritting her teeth, but the rush of water was intoxicating. She squirmed and squealed and struggled to suppress the mounting impulse deep inside her. A stifled moan escaped her. The sprinkler was uncaring. Nor was it alone. The sprinklers were a mix of wide sprays and set rotations, and Shellie found herself boxed in by water on all sides. The evening had been warm, but the night had been cool. The sprinklers were merciless. Shellie shimmered and shined with a mix of pleasure and panic, her slender body glistening, slick with man-made rain. She pulled herself together, as compact as possible, in an attempt to shield herself, but a nervous twitch of her legs betrayed her, flipping her over, exposing her front. The spray pervaded her breasts and stomach. Her nipples puckered, standing at attention. She arched her back, her feet together, forming a diamond-shaped gap with her legs, perfectly encircling the offending sprinkler. If she called out now, it would all be over. The lights would turn on, and she -(TM)d be caught. She kept a firm grasp on her mouth with her hands. She shut her eyes tightly, and waited for the end. In time, the sprinklers subsided, retracting back into their holes. Shellie released herself and lay naked on the grass, panting, her breasts gently rising and falling. -W-well, - she said, exhausted, -At l-l-least that -(TM)s over. - She took a deep breath and struggled to her feet. Shaking, shivering, she reached for the ladder. It was a heavy thing, awkward, and naturally oblong. She let out a long sigh, not quite a whistle, and lifted the ladder from its resting place. Turning it sidewise, she turned around. Then she saw the cop cars arrive. Part 3 Shellie tensed up, eyes wide, lips trembling. Her grip on the ladder rungs tightened in turn. For a moment she was still, a tasteful nude statue, her lady bits hidden by the sideways tool. The touch of cold metal awakened her senses. She remembered where she was, and moved briskly for cover. The back of her neighbor -(TM)s house sheltered her body, her footsteps muffled by the freshly-wet grass. In the shadow of the house, her breathing resumed. She shut her eyes, and composed the facts. A single cop car had arrived on the scene. Had someone called them? Had she been seen? -Easy, girl, easy. Think of a plan. - She could give herself up, say it was an accident. Surely they -(TM)d believe her. Then she -(TM)d be safe. Sure, sure, her reptile brain countered, you were minding your business, buck naked at home. You thought you heard something, and wandered outside. You know, buck naked, like most people do. -R-right. Silly me. - She gazed up to the roof. All houses in the neighborhood were variants on a theme. They were all two-stories, with slanted roofs that dominated much of the second. They weren -(TM)t too far apart, either. She was three houses down but, if she could reach the roof above her, she could leap to any of the others with ease. She remembered the second-story bathroom window, her original aim. She -(TM)d hoped to just climb the ladder and be done, but in a pinch, this plan could succeed. I mean, so long as you time it right. A naked girl leaping from roof to roof would certainly hold my attention, if I knew she was there. Shellie stepped out from the shade of the house and set the ladder up against the back wall. She set it up slowly, dampening the sound. Once she was sure it was in place, she slowly ascended, her sharp shoulders quivering in the young summer breeze. Reaching the top, she scrambled to the roof. It was a bit dirty, but still welcome cover. On her hands and knees, she crept up to the edge. The cop car was parked near the tree she -(TM)d exhibited herself at earlier, both doors open. Two officers, their faces obscured, were talking to the twins and --pointing toward her house? Shellie had no idea what was going on, but she knew she needed to get home now. Carefully moving along the edge, she looked to the neighboring roof. She was opposite a window, lights out with curtains. The gap between the two wasn -(TM)t even four feet. She looked once more toward the twins and police, who were currently congregating outside her door. What was going on? Still, their backs to her, this was her chance. She rose to her feet, squared her shoulders, and leapt. Light as she was, she still made a sound, landing on the shingles with an audible thump. She crouched against the surface, making herself as flat as possible, perched like a fair-skinned jungle treefrog, her bottom raised ever-so-slightly in the air. She swallowed and listened. She couldn -(TM)t see what they were up to, not from this position, but presumed she -(TM)d hear it if they wandered over here. She waited for a moment, then decided to chance it. Scuttling across the roof, she rounded the house. The leap from the second house -(TM)s roof to the third was barely a concern. With a gap of two feet, no, not even that, she just stepped across. Seemed the house was just closer. Hunched over, hand against the slant to keep her balance, she rounded the corner to the last little leap. She paused, blinking, a little bewildered. The gap between this house and hers was considerable. Five feet? Six? She didn -(TM)t care to know. She -(TM)d been so sure she could make it before, but squatting here now, it looked yawning and treacherous. The fall wasn -(TM)t perilous, there were bushes to catch her, but she -(TM)d have to walk back to the ladder again. She stood up, slowly, and clapped her hands against her cheeks. -Come on Shellie. You -(TM)re almost home. - She looked at her palms, her arms, and saw they were blemished. Taking stock of her body, she was covered in dirt. Slinking along the rooftops had left her quite filthy. -Right, - she added, -Home, and a shower. - She took a step forward. This house, like the others, had a prominent rain gutter. She knew better than to stand on it, but used it mentally to mark when to leap. She tapped it with her foot, to record its position. The gutter creaked, shifting, and threw off her balance. Her right leg shot forward, her arms spinning like windmill sails, trying in vain to reverse her momentum. Toppling forward, she straightened out, and caught the lip of her roof with her hands, her left foot (having never left the neighbor -(TM)s) securing her body like a bridge across the chasm. Shellie hung there, stranded, taut as a bowstring, her nubile, naked body spanning the distance between roofs, wearing nothing but a smile of nervous desperation. Kicking back her free leg, she steadied her position, gripping the back rafters between her bare feet. -Ah --ah ha ha..ha ha help, - she whimpered. -Someone there? - said someone. She shut her mouth tight. A lone police officer emerged from the backyard. He was young, almost handsome. He was holding a flashlight, pointed low toward the ground. Entering the space between houses, he looked one way, then the other. Shellie bit her lip. -See anything? - -Nah, must -(TM)ve been a raccoon or something. - The young cop was joined by an older cop, slower, fatter. He too had a flashlight, though his was turned off. The two men gathered directly beneath her, on opposite sides of the bush, neither looking up. Shellie wanted to cry. -No sign of the girl, then? - -Yeah, but no sign of a break-in either. - They were looking for her? Shellie -(TM)s mind began racing. Well girl, they found you. Mystery solved! Not that you made it too hard to be found. Go ahead. Drop down. Show them what they've won. She shook her head. No. She could explain it. Surely there were reasons, logical reasons, a girl like her might be naked outside, strung up like Christmas lights, covered in dirt. -Would the neighbors know if something was missing? - -All they -(TM)d heard was their daughter was home. - The young officer crossed his arms, the beam of his flashlight illuminating Shellie, every graceful contour of her captivating body, lean and limber and lithe and delicious, bathed in white light, a sight to behold. He had only to look up to see her modest breasts, ripe with perky nipples simply begging to be tweaked. His partner, too, stood a mere arms reach from her delicate navel and quivering slit. Shellie struggled to restrain her wary, awkward smile. It would -(TM)ve looked to them like she was holding in her laughter. Here, between the houses, the night breeze was blocked. The heat began to rise, and Shellie started to sweat. -You think we should put out a bulletin? - -Couldn -(TM)t hurt. You got a description, right? - The younger officer nodded and pulled out a notepad. -Girl, blonde, short hair with freckles, hazel eyes, slender, - he squinted, adjusting the flashlight down, -Androgynous. 19-years-old, just back from college. Answers to Shellie. Parents are out. - And right above you, Shellie thought, relieved to be shrouded in darkness once again. The old cop took his hat off and scratched his head, his cap passing inches away from her knees. She could feel her fingers slipping, knees buckling. L-look up, she thought, or leave! Don -(TM)t just s-strand me here forever! She almost wanted to call out, to drop down, but her sense of self-preservation overruled any such nonsense. -Alright, I -(TM)ll radio the others. Missing, presumed safe, but keep your eyes peeled. - -You said she -(TM)s kind of androgynous, right? Tell them to keep an eye out for boys too, just in case she -(TM)s dressed like one. - The cops chuckled, unaware Shellie wasn -(TM)t dressed like anything, hovering on high. Stranded as she was, for all to see, not a single cop in the county could -(TM)ve possibly mistaken her sex. Shellie could feel her grip weakening on both ends of the divide. If you drop down now, this -(TM)ll all be over. They -(TM)ll arrest you, sure, and take you to the station, but the night -(TM)ll be over. Just surrender and relax. Shellie shut her eyes, her taut form shivering with anticipation, beads of sweat slowly dripping down her body. That -(TM)s right. It -(TM)ll all be over. They -(TM)d take her to the station in handcuffs, and parade her naked in front of the night staff. They -(TM)d take her mugshot, careful to have her hold the card identifying her by her full name under her breasts. They -(TM)d make a log: Shellie, exhibitionist, age 19. Then everyone would know what she is. She wouldn -(TM)t need to hide it. It -(TM)s just what she deserved. Even if you don -(TM)t, they -(TM)re about to call the others. Every cop in town will be looking for you then. Shellie opened her mouth, ready to out herself, then grit her teeth. No. If she just held on a little longer, they -(TM)d leave, and she could get in through the bathroom. Then this would be over, her dignity intact. A fact the neighbor -(TM)s cat would soon put to the test. Shellie opened her eyes. She felt it by her feet: a small set of paws. The neighbor -(TM)s cat had also made their way onto the roof. It prodded at her heels, as if testing them for some kind of structural weakness, then began to make its way across the human bridge called Shellie. It were not a heavy cat, nor were its claws that sharp, but the extra source of weight was pushing Shellie to her limit. -Alright, well, - said the young cop, -Anything else? - -Nope. Think we -(TM)re done here. Let -(TM)s mosey. - -Heh, sure. - After an eternity, the two cops turned to leave. Shellie -(TM)s heart leapt within her chest, but still she grit her teeth. The cat, for its part, made its way to the small of her back, surveyed the scene, then curled up and stopped, nested between her shoulder blades. -Come oooon, - Shellie whimpered, but she dared not shake it loose. The cat making noise would call the police back. She watched them walk away, returning to their car. The headlights turned on. The car began to hum. It stalled for just a moment, then slowly pulled away. Facing toward the street, it went into the night. Shellie, exhausted, let go with her feet. Her tired, sweaty body swung down like a pendulum, smack against the wall. The cat was dropped, hissing, and fell down into the bushes. Shellie hung there, panting, her arms above her head. -Ah --Ah ha ha~. - She wanted to pull herself up, but couldn -(TM)t feel the strength in her arms. Glancing down, to be sure the fall wasn -(TM)t serious, she released her grip as well, and landed on her feet. Shuddering, exhausted, she braced herself against the side of the house, her filthy naked body glistening with sweat. She turned and slid down against the wall, sitting in the grass, giving her breathing a chance to slow down. Taking a few minutes to recover, Shellie rose to her feet and made her way back to where she -(TM)d parked the neighbor -(TM)s ladder. Lifting it carefully, she marched it to her yard. Identifying the location of the bathroom window (something that -(TM)d slipped her mind in the haze), she set the ladder up and again began to climb. -Ah --home free~. - She couldn -(TM)t help but smile. Then she learned the cops had closed the window from inside.