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 ï>¿Tracy -(TM)s New Urges can -(TM)t be Ignored! By LuckyDave1066

   Her risky new behavior was troubling, but felt so damn sexy!

   Tracy squinted, momentarily blinded by the harsh brightness of her
surroundings.  The clouds which had been blocking the sun until then had
drifted away, and the late-afternoon sun reflecting on the white roof of
the office building forced her to pause for a moment while her eyes
adjusted.  The contrast between the dimly lit stairwell behind her and the
expanse of the practically glowing roof surface was unsettling.

   Her current course of action could jeopardize her reputation,
relationships, career and possibly get her arrested, but strictly speaking,
her behavior wasn't life-threatening.  Even so, when she briefly shut her
eyes against the glare a few recent memorable events from her life flashed
through her mind, making her wonder, "This is so not me, how did I get to
where this is even possible?"

   Tracy had enjoyed a good but unexceptional life until a couple of years
earlier.  Her Mom and Dad gave her a stable, loving household to grow up
in. There were the usual conflicts between her teenage self and her
parents, who were way stricter than those of her friends about how she
could dress, when she could begin dating, how late she could stay out, but
she never rebelled or defied their rules.

   As she looked back on it, she wondered if wanting to get away from her
strict upbringing might have been why she married her first serious
boyfriend.  Kyle wasn't anyone's idea of a wild guy, but he wasn't as
strait-laced as her folks, and she had never regretted getting married
barely out of her teens.  She was amazed at the stories her friends who had
gone away to college told her about their casual hookups and spring break
shenanigans, but couldn't imagine behaving that way herself.

   Tracy's life began to change in her mid-twenties, so subtly at first
that she convinced herself that the earliest symptoms of the neurological
illness she would eventually be diagnosed with were caused by the stress of
having to take care of a newborn daughter, Emily, as well as her first
child, a lively two-year-old boy named Kevin.

   Tracy loved both children and Kyle helped with them as much as he could,
but since he worked long hours she was on her own much of the time. 
Getting too little sleep and eating poorly, she began to notice a tremor in
her right hand.  The tremor was intermittent and not severe, so she
shrugged it off as simply a sign she needed more rest and soldiered on.

   When Emily began to give up nursing in favor of eating solid food at
nine months old, Tracy was thankful to be able to sleep for longer
stretches, and also that Kyle could take over some of the feeding duty. 
She also felt a bit guilty, even though she knew she had no reason to.  At
Emily's one-year-old checkup, her pediatrician was perceptive enough to see
Tracy was still struggling a bit, and noticed her tremor, which hadn't
become any more intense but had begun affecting both hands.  "I know Emily
is my patient, not you, but I think you should get checked out to see
what's causing the tremor you're experiencing," the Doctor recommended.

   "This," Tracy asked, holding up her hands, "I had something like this
for a little while after Kevin was born.  It went away after his first
birthday."

   "It may be nothing, but you should see your doctor to be sure," the
pediatrician told Tracy before saying goodbye.

   When Emily was almost two years old, Tracy was ready to place her in a
daycare center and Kevin into the preschool program at the school where
he'd be starting Kindergarten in a few months.  She was looking forward to
being able to go back to work.  There was a problem -- her tremors had
become both more frequent and more noticeable.

   She could no longer convince herself that nothing was wrong, and was
worried that she wouldn't be very effective at the clerical and secretarial
work she had done before Kevin was born.  The way her hands often shook,
she couldn't imagine even getting past a first interview.  She had her
general practitioner refer her to a neurologist to get to the bottom of
what was causing her tremors, and hopefully find a solution.

   Her first-ever appointment with a neurologist was both unsettling and
reassuring for Tracy.  She was stunned to hear that she did indeed have a
disorder causing her tremors, one which couldn't actually be cured, but was
encouraged to hear that any progression would likely be very slow, and was
usually treatable with a prescription.  "This isn't something which can
kill you, but it will always be with you at some level.  "You'll need to
come in every six months to verify the medicine is doing what it should,
and not doing anything it shouldn't.  If it isn't working, or is causing
troublesome side effects, we'll adjust your dosage as needed," he assured
her.

   "How much is this going to shorten my life?" Tracy asked; she was
beginning to tear up, thinking of her children.

   "It really isn't the kind of disease which kills people directly," the
doctor said, "but if not treated, the worsening tremors can definitely
affect your quality of life, and could make it more likely for you to die
some other way, such as a car accident, a severe fall, or choking on food.
The good news is that for most people, getting on the correct course of
medicine will entirely prevent that sort of outcome."

   Tracy didn't like the idea of being dependent on a forever prescription,
but agreed to give the drug the doctor wanted her to try a chance.  Kyle
picked up her first supply of pills the next day on his way home from work.
As soon as he handed her the bag she opened it and had a look at the long,
long list of possible interactions with other medicines, not a big concern
because she wasn't taking anything else except an occasional acetaminophen.

   She studied the list of common side effects more carefully, some of
which seemed as bad as the illness she already had!  The list of rarely
occurring side effects was even longer, but the first half dozen or so
seemed less troubling than the more common ones, so she put away the tiny
slip of paper, saving it to be reviewed some other time.

   As Tracy was nearing the end of the 90-day supply of her prescription,
she had mixed feelings.  Her tremors had almost entirely disappeared most
of the time, but did sometimes flare up if she was tired or stressed out.
The good news was that she seemed to be tolerating the drug well, with no
sign of side effects.  She called her neurologist, who suggested that since
she wasn't having any noticeable side effects, increasing the dosage of her
anti-tremor medicine slightly might be worth a try.  She agreed, and began
taking the new dosage.  After a few weeks at the higher dosage, her tremors
were eliminated.

   Soon after getting her tremors under control, she found a job as an
administrative assistant at a non-profit agency in the center of her city
helping homeless people find housing, her hands now steady enough to type
as quickly and accurately as she ever had.

   Tracy loved her new job, thoroughly enjoying being around adults after
several years at home all the time with her kids.  Kyle kidded her about
all the shopping for clothes she did the first few weeks she was working,
telling her he thought the real reason she wanted a job was to have an
excuse to update her wardrobe.  In fact, she was dismayed to find her
pre-motherhood outfits either didn't fit too well or were way out of
fashion, so she really did need to get more outfits to wear to work.

   Though Kyle told her she was gorgeous just as she was, she used a small
part of her paycheck on a gym membership to get herself a little closer to
the svelte look she'd had before her pregnancies, taking advantage of her
workplace's flexible rules to extend her lunch a few times a week to take a
yoga class, lift weights or do some sort of cardio.  Her minor splurges on
clothes and the gym fit in with an attitude change which happened shortly
after she found out about her illness.  She realized she had spent
basically her whole life doing what other people expected of her, and
resolved to, at least some of the time, do what she felt like doing.

   Tracy's newfound independence showed in small ways.  She used to
habitually deny herself little pleasures like going out to lunch or buying
some small thing like a pair of earrings.  Not anymore.  Having even
briefly been faced with the possibility that her life could be cut short,
she decided that she ought to do a little more living in the moment than
she had been doing.  Having to take a handful of pills every day just to
appear normal kept her from forgetting how unpredictable life could be.

   One afternoon, during her walk back to work after a strenuous session on
a treadmill, an outfit on display in a shop window caught Tracy's eye.  She
stopped dead in her tracks and thought, "Damn, that would be fun to wear!"
She eyed the red halter top and asymmetric black chiffon miniskirt and
tried to imagine herself wearing them, where, exactly?  "Why, to work, of
course," she chuckled, remembering seeing a few of the younger women in the
office wearing outfits not so different from the one she was looking at. 
"But those girls are what, maybe twenty, twenty-one, and haven't been
through a couple of pregnancies," she thought.  Despite some doubts, she
suddenly felt like she just had to have the outfit; she was in and out of
the store in less than ten minutes, happily toting her new ensemble back to
the office.

   At home that night, Tracy left Kyle to dry the dinner dishes while she
put Kevin and Emily to bed.  Seeing that he'd be busy for a few more
minutes, she went to her bedroom and took off the clothes she had worn to
work; her standard long sleeve button-down blouse and tan chinos.  She put
on the skirt, then tried on the halter, taking it off twice to adjust the
ties at the back of her neck.  She realized that between its mostly exposed
back and plunging neckline, she had no bra remotely able to be hidden by
the top, so her bra joined today's blouse and slacks on the bed.

   Adding her highest heels to finish her ensemble, she studied her
reflection in a full-length mirror.  She was glad her post-breastfeeding
boobs hadn't lost all their fullness, giving the plunging neckline a
generous amount of cleavage to show off.  Tracy was also pleased to see how
the shortest mini she'd ever dared to even try on made her legs look; she
had always been self-conscious about her height, but this skirt made her
5'-3" frame seem longer.  She called out to Kyle, still cleaning up in the
kitchen, "I picked up a new work outfit this afternoon, I'm interested in
your opinion..."

   Kyle's jaw dropped when he turned around and saw Tracy in her new
outfit. She twirled around to show him how it looked from all angles. 
"Wow, just wow," he said, then continued, "You look amazing, I love it, but
is it really meant for work?  I mean, Jesus, with your hair covering your
neck, from behind it looks like you're topless!"

   "Thanks, and yes, several of the younger women in our office dress this
way.  I'm a few years older than them, but I think I can make this outfit
work, don't you?"

   Kyle couldn't honestly disagree and was happy to give Tracy a more
detailed review of her new outfit when she took his hand and led him to
their bedroom.

   At work the next day, Tracy wore a light sweater over her halter the
first few hours.  Just before lunch she nervously slipped the sweater off,
unsure how her new look would go over.  She received several compliments
and a few slightly risque comments; overall she was pleased by the
reactions of her co-workers and was glad that she'd acted on her impulse to
buy and wear the new outfit.

   Over the next few weeks, Tracy began more and more often acting on ideas
which she would previously have let second thoughts rule out.

   While doing housework on a hot day, instead of just complaining to
herself about their AC being out of commission, she did what she could to
make herself more comfortable, ditching her shorts and t-shirt to make
vacuuming and doing laundry a bit more tolerable.  The idea had occurred to
her before, but she'd always been afraid someone would come to the door. 
The first couple of times she did housework wearing only lingerie she left
a robe by the door just in case she needed to answer the doorbell, but
since knocks on their door pretty much never happened, she gave up that bit
of backup before long.

   Another wardrobe adjustment became fairly common on hot days, assuming
she was wearing a fairly opaque blouse; she began going braless at work. 
Though she noticed a couple of male co-workers stealing glances at her, it
seemed like a worthwhile trade-off for being more comfortable.  She knew
that with nothing under her blouse except herself she should have had at
least as many buttons fastened as she always had when she always wore a
bra, maybe even fastening one more.  Something she couldn't explain often
made her do the opposite, unfastening a button or two more than usual.

   Tracy's gym outfit of choice switched from baggy t-shirts and sweatpants
to clingy yoga pants and a sports bra; it didn't seem like a big deal, most
of the women she saw there dressed the same way.  It only became noteworthy
when one afternoon at the gym, she noticed was running behind and was sure
to be late getting back to work in time for an important meeting.  She knew
the only way she could have a chance of being back before the meeting
started was not taking the time to change back into her work clothes!

   She saved at least 5 minutes by leaving her ivory silk blouse, lacy
white bra, and black slacks in her bag, taking out only one item, an
oatmeal-colored light cotton, mid-length belted cardigan.  She put it on
and checked herself in a mirror to be sure it was long enough to cover her
butt, which was currently covered only with thinner than average yoga
pants. Butt coverage confirmed, Tracy checked the look in front.  Though
comfortable to wear while working out, having her hot pink sports bra
peeking out from the gap between lapels would look way out of place in her
office.  "Better a hint of cleavage showing," she thought as she peeled the
bra off and stuffed it into her bag.  She knotted the belt, closing the
front of the sweater as best she could.

   The cardigan was apparently not meant to close completely, or perhaps
she'd misjudged the size when she bought it; whatever the reason, a 1 or
2-inch strip of Tracy's pale spring skin was visible however she tied the
belt.  Even if she had enough time to switch back to wearing her blouse,
shoving her sweaty sports bra in with the blouse had put an end to that
option.

   She hustled back to work, pausing at her desk just long enough to trade
her running shoes for a pair of heels she kept there, drop off her bag and
grab her notepad.  She walked into the meeting, right on time, waiting for
the comments she was sure her improvised outfit would prompt.  Instead, the
strangest thing about her appearance was the lack of any obvious reactions
from anyone in the conference room.

   Initially relieved that her bold ensemble hadn't become a topic of
conversation, Tracy eventually felt almost disappointed, wondering, "What
would I have to do to get a reaction from these people?"

   In the absence of any repercussions resulting from her acting on her now
somewhat frequent urges to wear something provocative, Tracy continued to
push the envelope of what she thought of as acceptable, both at home and
out in the wider world.  Short skirts, yoga pants and noticeably less
opaque tops became regular workday choices.  She graduated from doing
housework in lingerie to doing it stark naked.

   One night she walked out of the bathroom into her bedroom after a shower
wearing only a towel on her head.  She froze when she noticed the blinds at
the sliding glass door leading to the patio behind their house were wide
open, thinking, "Kyle must have gone out to have a beer on the patio." She
quickly turned back to the bathroom to get a towel to cover up, but hadn't
even taken two steps before she was seized with an urge to join her spouse
out in their backyard just as she was.  "Maybe not dressed exactly like I
am," she giggled, unwrapping the towel on her head and tossing it on a
chair before sliding the door open and stepping outside.

   Mind if I join you?", she asked Kyle.

   "Not at all, I'm just enjoying the mild night, doing some stargazing,"
he answered without turning around to face her.

   "See anything interesting yet," she asked, walking up behind him.  She
reached down and began massaging his shoulders.

   "Not really.  I was just about to head inside when I heard you opening
the door."

   "It does seem like a good night for stargazing, but I think we'd have
more luck farther from the light from inside the house.  Come join me?" she
asked as she trotted away from her shocked husband and lay down on the
grass.  She didn't have to wait long for his answer, and had never enjoyed
being outside under a sky full of stars more.

   Tracy was enjoying her newfound confidence and willingness to try new
things; Kyle wasn't entirely sure about some of her recent fashion choices,
but any misgivings he had on that front were more than outweighed by her
more frequent lusty moods.  Other than one or two older women, none of her
co-workers seemed to mind her new look.  The only negative thing in her
life was the re-emergence of an occasional tremor.  It was not too frequent
and limited to her right hand, but it worried Tracy enough that she had her
regular bi-annual visit to her Neurologist moved up a few weeks.

   Dr.  Pizoni told Tracy that as long as she wasn't experiencing any side
effects, he didn't see any problem slightly raising the dosage on her
prescription.  He saw in his notes that she hadn't mentioned any problems
with the drug, and asked, "Nothing new as far as side effects?"

   "Occasional nausea if I take my morning dose on an empty stomach, but no
problem if I make sure to have something to eat a little while before the
pills," Tracy answered.

   "Okay, let's try an increase from 4 pills a day to 5.  Instead of two at
8 AM, one at 2 PM and one at 8 PM, up your 2 PM dose to two pills.  As well
as you've been reacting to the drug I'm not expecting any new side effects,
but make sure to let me know if any pop up."

   Tracy thanked him and began her new dosage right away; as she hoped, in
a week or so the increase did away with her tremors.

   A month or so after her visit with Dr.  Pizoni, Tracy was folding
laundry one quiet Tuesday night when Kyle was away on business.  She
noticed it was nearly midnight; she and Kyle always had a call before
turning in when he was out of town.  She realized she had left her phone in
her car, so it was possible he'd been trying to call.

   She felt a little dizzy for a few seconds, but as soon as her dizziness
passed, she forgot all about the laundry, grabbed her keys from the hall
table and, completely nude, headed out to the driveway.  She unlocked the
car, climbed in and looked for the phone.  Since she normally kept the
phone in her purse, there was no normal spot for it to be in the car; she
had checked the glove box, a center console and several cubbies to no avail
when she got some unexpected help.

   The ringtone she'd assigned to Kyle's cell rang, the sound and the light
from her phone making it clear that the phone had slipped below her seat.
She retrieved it and answered, "Hi Hon!"

   "Where have you been, I've been calling all night!" her annoyed husband
replied.

   "Sorry," she answered sheepishly, "I left my phone in the car when I
came home; I was just folding some laundry when I remembered we hadn't had
a call tonight and realized my phone was probably out in the car.  I was
actually looking for it right when you called, you calling helped me find
it under the seat."

   "So, you're in the car right now?  Please tell me you put something on
before going out," he asked, knowing that if she'd been doing laundry there
was a good chance she would have been naked!

   "Okay, if it'll make you happy, I put something on before going out. 
There, I told you, just like you asked!

   "Jesus, Tracy, really?"

   "Calm down, I had a good look around before coming out," she lied, and
belatedly began to check her surroundings, "really, all the lights are off
at every neighbor's house with any view of our driveway.  I could probably
walk down the middle of the street right now without anyone seeing me."
There was a pause in the conversation as she and Kyle thought about what
she'd just said; he worried that she would even joke about doing something
like that, while she imagined what it would feel like!

   The rest of their call was as normal as it could be under the
circumstances.  Once it was over Tracy left the car and walked back to the
front door of the house.  Before going in, she took another look at the
quiet suburban street.  For the first time in months she resisted one of
her periodic urges to do something outrageous; not because of the nudity,
but because there was no way she could leave Kevin and Emily in the house
by themselves while she walked, where exactly?  She was a little worried
that the idea had occurred to her at all, but part of her mind was already
trying to think of a way to safely make it happen.

   After about four months on the higher dosage, Tracy's random urges began
to move beyond her recent habit of dressing a bit more provocatively or not
dressing at all at home.  Up until then, she had mostly been careful to not
be too blatant about her appearance in work or other public settings; only
Kyle had actually seen her naked or even topless, and only in their house
or at night in a dark area of their yard.  Now something new was happening;
she began to make sure the views she was offering were being received.

   Her first step into the new phase of reacting to her compulsions was
fairly subtle.  Paul, the unsuspecting male co-worker who became the
beneficiary of her giving in to her latest urge assumed his good fortune
was accidental.  Tracy stopped by his desk and asked him a question about a
report they were both working on.

   When she leaned over to get a closer look at the figures in the
spreadsheet on his computer's monitor, her already fairly open blouse
opened even further, giving him a closer look at a delightful portion of
her figure.  The white silk fabric fell far enough away from her left
breast for him to see it all, including the exposed pale brown nipple! 
With Tracy seemingly absorbed in the information on the monitor, he was
able to enjoy the view for almost a full minute, thankful she wasn't
wearing a bra.

   Over the next few weeks, Tracy performed some variation on this sort of
boob flash for several men in the office, always pretending to be unaware
of what she was showing them.  She added another act to her repertoire; on
days when she was wearing a particularly short skirt, she also wore a
skimpy thong.  These outfit choices, when combined with her occasional need
to bend over and pick something up off the floor on those days made the men
lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time thankful for their
good fortune as they enjoyed the sight of her nearly naked ass.

   Tracy's increasing compulsion to show her body off wasn't limited to her
workplace, which had gone to a four-day workweek for the summer.  With Kyle
at work, Kevin at a day camp and Emily at daycare, Tracy had the house to
herself most of the day on Fridays.  She took advantage of her solitude to
continue her practice of doing housework in the nude, even doing a little
bit of yard work when the urge struck her, wearing only sneakers, a hat and
sunscreen in a secluded part of the backyard.

   In the hectic months when she had been home with a newborn and a toddler
Tracy and Kyle had gotten hooked on the convenience of ordering a lot of
household necessities online.  She organized their orders so they would all
arrive when she'd be home on Friday.  Having lost a package to a thief
once, she honestly began this schedule just to prevent losing any more
items to the porch pirates, but before long some other possibilities
allowed by the new schedule became apparent.

   One Friday afternoon in May, Tracy happened to glance out of her kitchen
window and saw an Amazon delivery van silently pull away; "Must be one of
those new electric vans," she thought, "My packages must be here." She
stopped drying dishes and hustled to look out the peephole in the front
door, just in time to catch a glimpse of the van turning off her street. 
"A sunny day, not quite 1:00 PM, I'd better put on my robe," she said to
herself, not sounding convinced.  She checked the coat hooks near the door,
which held no coats now that the weather was reliably warm.  Her robe was
also nowhere in sight; she remembered taking it to the basement a couple of
days earlier to be washed the next time she did laundry.

   It took some time for Tracy to overcome her sensible reluctance to step
out her front door stark naked on a sunny afternoon, but it was what her
current urge demanded, so after a pause to get over a sudden, short dizzy
spell she began trying to think of ways to justify the reckless behavior!

   She had plenty of options for covering up before stepping outside to
collect her packages, but none were as convenient as just going out in the
nude; she was already at the door, and all her clothing was way at the
other end of the house.  She guessed most of the neighborhood's residents
were likely to be at work at this hour.  "I'd only be outside a few
seconds, the drivers usually leave the packages close to the door," she
said, peering out the window, "and it's not like anyone who does happen to
be at home now is just sitting there watching our front door on the odd
chance they'll get to see me coming outside naked!"

   Tracy knew her latest risque impulse was going to get its way; she
opened the door and through the large window of the storm door saw several
cardboard boxes.  She took a quick look around, and seeing no sign of
anyone else around, opened the storm door and stepped out onto the porch,
leaving behind the last barrier between the world and her naked self.  She
scooped up the four boxes closest to the door and scampered back inside,
her heart racing.

   "Jesus!  I can't believe I just did that," she said as she stacked the
small boxes on the floor.  She looked outside again, counting another three
packages scattered farther out on the porch, two more on the steps and one
large box on the brick walkway leading to the sidewalk from the street. 
"Two more trips, maybe three," she said, smiling nervously.

   Trying to get this latest outrageous bit of behavior over with before
she had a chance to lose her nerve, Tracy flung the storm door open again,
walked across the porch and down the steps, then turned and worked her way
back up the steps, gathering up packages on her way back to the door.  The
two boxes and three large padded envelopes made for an awkward combination,
causing her to drop all but a couple of items as she dashed across the
porch.  The fallen box and envelopes landed in front of the door, forcing
her to kick them aside so she could open the door and toss the ones she was
still carrying inside.  She scooped up the troublesome packages and hustled
inside.

   Inside the house again, Tracy was breathing hard and took a few minutes
to calm down before going after the large box on the walk.  Even if she was
unable to resist the impulse to go outside naked, she was aware what she
was doing was some crazy-ass behavior; she almost broke down and got
dressed before going after the last box, but whatever was goading her to
behave this way wouldn't let her give up.  She took a deep breath and
stepped out on the porch again.

   When she reached the box she understood why the driver had left it a
dozen feet from the porch.  "What the hell is this?  I don't remember
ordering anything this heavy," she grumbled as she tried in vain to pick it
up.  She slid the box along the walk, but had no idea how she was going to
get it up the stairs.

   "Do you need some help with that?"

   Tracy shrieked, turned to face the stranger and asked, "where the hell
did you come from?" At first, she instinctively tried to cover what she
could of her naked body, but as the stranger began to explain his presence
she obeyed the latest urge to pop into her consciousness, the one now
telling her to let herself be seen.  Completely.  She stood with her hands
on her hips as he explained that he was an Amazon driver, but not the one
who'd delivered her stuff a little while ago.  "I just made a delivery a
few houses down," he said, pointing to his van, "and I saw
you...struggling. You looked like you could use a little help."

   "You're right about that, I'll never be able to get this beast in the
house by myself," she answered, finally reading some printing on the box
and recognizing the package.  The new elliptical trainer Kyle had told her
he was thinking of ordering had arrived and was already providing her with
a good workout.

   With the help of her new friend, named Carlos according to his name tag,
the package was inside the house in no time.  Tracy was trembling and
breathing a little hard, but not from the exertion of moving the box. 
Being naked in the middle of her living room less than three feet from a
kind of hot stranger was having all sorts of effects on her.  Besides the
trembling there was her pounding heart, goosebumps over most of her body
and her swollen nipples giving away her current off-the-charts arousal.

   "Can I get you a glass of water, or iced tea," she asked, her thoughts
racing ahead to what she really wanted to offer him,

   "Thanks, but I was way behind on my route before I spotted you, I'd best
get going," he replied sadly.

   "At least let me give you a tip," she said.

   "No need," he said, smiling as he headed out the door, "I've already
been well rewarded."

   By the time Kyle came home from work, Tracy had calmed down, but was
still a bit rattled.  Whatever it was that came over her when she felt one
of her wild compulsions was demanding more and more outrageous behavior. 
What had started as occasionally dressing a bit flashily had moved on
through actually giving men she worked with glimpses of her boobs and ass,
hoping they'd believe she wasn't aware of what she was showing them.  "Then
I began getting naked outside our house, at first only after dark, and with
no way for anybody but Kyle to see me nude," she thought.

   "Looking back on it, the night I went out to look for my phone was some
kind of turning point; nobody saw me that night, but someone easily could
have.  I knew it, but couldn't stop myself.  And today, what the hell was
that?  I can hardly believe I did all that, and I swear I was ready to do
more!  I've come a long way in a few months, but I'm not sure I like where
I seem to be headed." She resolved to resist her urges, even the fairly
mild ones, and hoped they would fade away.

   Feeling safer at home than out in the world, Tracy turned down Kyle's
offer of dinner out in favor of a nice, boring night in.  She kept a
low-profile, high-coverage look for a couple of days, wearing the baggy
clothes which had been relegated to the far corner of her closet.

   Back at her workplace Monday, Tracy continued her campaign to avoid
temptation, fighting off the urges, which hadn't let up.  She dressed much
more conservatively, to the dismay of her male co-workers.  She even wore a
bra every day, though her blouses were buttoned up high enough that nobody
got to see them, forget about seeing what they were covering.

   Having successfully fended off urges all week to wear her more revealing
clothing, even a few late in the week which tried to get her to go naked in
public, or at least topless, Tracy felt safe joining a few co-workers for a
drink after work at the bar downstairs from her office.  Ready to leave
after her first glass of wine, she gave in to accepting a second glass
offered by a decent looking but pushy guy.  Her work friends had drifted
off to join some other people they knew at a table, leaving Tracy and her
pursuer chatting in a crowded corner on the opposite end of the bar.  She
was about to tell him she had to be going when her first urge of the day
hit her hard.

   Suddenly, Tracy knew without any doubt she needed to show him her boobs!
The room seemed to be spinning around her; she braced herself on a table
until she regained her balance, then began doing as her urge demanded. 
Without even a glance around to see if anyone but her would-be hookup was
watching, she quickly had the top four buttons on her blouse unfastened. 
She knew what she was doing was a really, really bad idea, but try as she
might, the urge was way too strong to resist.

   Tracy reached behind her back and managed to unhook her bra.  Her blouse
hadn't opened enough to look too extreme yet, but when she pulled the front
open wide a few people nearby took notice of her show.  She grabbed the
front of the loose bra and lifted the lace-trimmed cups up, completely
exposing her breasts to her intended viewer and a few lucky bystanders. 
She smiled nervously as her growing audience cheered and offered
compliments.

   Her urge to show this stranger her boobs hadn't been specific about how
long a look she should grant him, so after the longest ten seconds of her
life, Tracy pulled the bra back down over her breasts and buttoned a couple
of buttons.  The spell she was under was over as suddenly as it had
started. She didn't bother to say goodbye to the stunned man she'd been
talking to.  She pushed her way through the crowd, headed for the exit
while saying a silent prayer that the co-workers she'd come with hadn't
caught her act.

   Sitting in the driver's seat of her car, the last one left in the
parking garage, Tracy spent at least a half-hour waiting to calm down
enough to safely drive home.  While she waited she began to work on a new
theory about her urges and how to control them.  Her bawdy behavior at the
bar was all the proof she needed to be sure complete abstinence didn't
work, and might even make her acting out become even more risky.  Trying to
completely ignore the urges seemed to work at first, but just ended up
resulting in a more spectacular compulsion later on, one which she couldn't
fight off.

   "Maybe going along with a few less extreme urges from time to time would
take off enough pressure for me to be able to avoid outright another fiasco
like tonight," she thought during her commute.  Over the next two weeks,
she tested her new theory, going along with urges to do some (strictly
indoor) housework in the nude, urges to keep the blinds in her bedroom at
least slightly open when she got ready for bed and her almost daily
compulsion to wear a short skirt to work.  She fought off any urge to let
herself be seen even partially naked, and went back to wearing more
conservative bras and panties, to avoid giving any of the men in the office
a peek at an uncovered boob or ass cheek.

   One night Kyle told Tracy that he'd run into a friend of theirs from
high school, who'd invited them to come over some night.  Neither Kyle or
Tracy had seen Jason since their wedding day, but they had all been good
friends years ago, so she was glad Kyle had made contact and agreed that
they should visit him.

   The truth was that before she and Kyle had begun dating during their
senior year in high school, she had had a crush on Jason for a few months.
They had never been a couple, but they had made out a little one time at a
party, and when Jason had given her a ride home from the party they had
fooled around in the back seat for a while.  Jason was the only man besides
Kyle she'd ever let get her top and bra off, but when he unbuttoned and
unzipped her jeans she finally stopped him.  By the next week he had gotten
back together with his former girlfriend, and a few months later Tracy and
Kyle had become a couple.

   When Kyle called Jason to set up a time for their visit Tracy began to
have second thoughts.  As far as she knew, Kyle had no idea she had been
infatuated with Jason, let alone that they'd fooled around.  Taken together
with the battle she'd been having with all her immodest urges, it seemed
like a potentially risky situation.  "I guess I'll find out if my strategy
of giving in to some mildly racy urges keeps me from doing anything too
extreme," she thought as she listened to Kyle calling to arrange to go over
to Jason's house Saturday night.

   When they arrived at Jason's place, Tracy and Kyle were impressed. 
Their friend was apparently doing well for himself.  He explained that he'd
been lucky, taking over his Uncle's plumbing business when he retired.  He
gave them a quick tour of the house, introducing them to his wife when they
made it to the kitchen.

   "Kyle, I can't believe you didn't tell me Jason was married," Tracy said
before hugging Vicky.  Jason's spouse was petite, like Tracy, but a bit
curvier, with long black hair.  The two couples took the tray of snacks
Vicky had prepared and a cooler full of various beers, hard seltzers and
wines out to a patio and talked for a couple of hours, catching up on the
many changes in their lives in the seven years since Tracy and Kyle had
seen Jason.

   Seeing Kyle eyeing the in-ground pool beyond the patio, Jason smiled and
told him, "you're welcome to have a dip if you want." Tracy wasn't sure if
Jason was joking; he hadn't mentioned the pool when planning this
get-together, so they hadn't brought bathing suits.

   "It looks great, but we..." Kyle began.

   "You didn't bring suits, I get it," Vicky interrupted, "but Jason and I
usually go in bare-ass anyway, so it's no problem.

   Tracy wasn't sure if her strategy for limiting her vulnerability to
sudden, extreme urges had been completely wrong, or if she had just
misjudged how much preventative racy behavior she would have needed to
resist the overwhelming urge that took control of her now; it was something
to figure out later.  The only thing that mattered right now was her
desperate need to get out of her clothes!

   When Tracy stood up quickly she lost her balance for a moment, but
recovered in time to safely put her glass of wine down, and without a word
to the others grabbed the hem of her black tank top.  She pulled it over
her head, confirming Vicky's suspicion that she wasn't wearing a bra. 
Jason looked over to Kyle as if to ask if he was okay with this unexpected
development.  The surprised look on Kyle's face and his complete silence
told Jason that his buddy was as confused as any of them.  The fact that so
far Kyle had not actually objected to his spouse stripping in front of them
was all the permission Jason needed to enjoy this welcome surprise!

   By the time Jason looked back to Tracy she had already kicked off her
sandals and was unbuttoning her khaki shorts.  Vicky finally overcame her
shock, saying, "Whoa!  I was kidding, our neighbors on either side have a
direct view of the pool!" Tracy heard her hostess, and actually started to
feel like she might be back in control of her actions, but since she'd
already let her shorts slide down to her ankles, she didn't see much point
to stopping now that all she was wearing was a particularly skimpy thong.
She worked her thong down past her butt and let it drop to the ground, then
picked it up and set it down on her chair with the rest of her clothes.

   She strolled over to the pool and dipped a foot in, as if she might yet
decide to not have a swim after all.  Satisfied with the water temperature,
she dove in and swam to the far end and back.  Hanging on to the edge
nearest to the patio she asked, "Y'all gonna just gawk or is anyone else
coming in?"

   Vicky scolded Jason, "Geez, J, you never told me you had such wild
friends in school!"

   "I didn't...they weren't, I guess people change."

   "I'm going to do some changing myself," Vicky replied, "into a bathing
suit, and I'll bring a few towels out." By the time she made it back with
towels she was greeted by three naked people bobbing in the pool; Every
chair but hers now had a pile of clothing on it.  "Aw, fuck it," she said,
pulling the long front zipper down and peeling the suit off to a chorus of
catcalls and whistling.

   After a half-hour or so of goofing around, Tracy led the group out of
the pool and began to dry herself off, followed closely by Jason and Kyle.
She paused for a moment to take advantage of the chance to compare her
husband's cock to the only other one she'd ever been close to having
experience with.  She was happy things had gone the way they did all those
years ago in the back seat of Jason's Camaro.

   Lying in bed, wide awake listening to Kyle snoring at 3:00 AM, Tracy
tried to wrap her head around what she'd done at Jason's house a few hours
ago.  On one hand, she'd been controlled for a while by one of her more
daring urges, despite having tried to go along with enough milder ones to
avoid doing anything as extreme as stripping in front of Jason and his
wife. On the other hand, skinny dipping with friends wasn't so unusual, and
part of the way through undressing she began to feel like she wasn't being
controlled anymore.  "How fucked up is that?  I somehow see it as a good
sign that it was my own decision to finish the striptease my compulsion
forced me to start!"

   By the next morning, Tracy had decided her basic theory about giving in
to some of her less outrageous urges as a way of fending off the occasional
compulsion to do something truly regrettable was sound.  She thought she
just needed to find a balance between the milder, preventative behavior and
the dangerously risque urges she hoped to resist.  Her guess was that if
she had allowed herself to do a little more of the mildly suggestive
behavior in the week leading up to her skinny-dip, she might have been able
to resist the urge to strip.  The trick was figuring out how to reach that
balance.

   Over the next few weeks, Tracy looked for more opportunities to build up
her balance of milder urges acted upon, and it seemed to be working; she
hadn't had even one urge calling for serious exposure.

   When Ella, her closest friend at work, asked her to join a group of
co-workers going out to have a few drinks to celebrate her leaving for a
new job, Tracy couldn't say no, even though the idea of returning to the
bar where she'd flashed her boobs made her nervous.  She and Kyle already
had planned on going out for dinner that night, so she called him and asked
him to come pick her up a little later than they'd planned and explained
why she would be a little late.

   "Why don't I just join you at the bar?  We can stay or leave whenever
you'd like, and not need to worry about when I should show up," he
suggested.

   "Okaaaay, sure, we can do that," she replied, "are you sure, you won't
know anybody there." She couldn't very well tell him why she was already
stressed out to be going to this particular bar, or why the idea of his
being there was making her even more nervous, so she arranged to meet him
there at 5:30.

   A few minutes after 5:00, Ella stopped by Tracy's cubicle carrying a box
full of her personal items, to remind her to come by the bar.

   "I haven't forgotten, I'll be there in a few minutes.  By the way, Kyle
is coming too."

   "So I finally get to meet your husband, but not until after I officially
become your ex-co-worker," Ella laughed, Which reminds me, that obnoxious
guy you got stuck talking with a few weeks ago was there again last Friday,
and he was asking about you."

   "Oh," was all Tracy managed to say before she began quietly obsessing
over the many, many bad outcomes possible if Kyle and the guy from the bar
were to cross paths.

   Seeing Tracy's expression go blank, Ella reassured her, "If we see him
anywhere near you we'll do something to divert him."

   "Thanks," Tracy replied, but kept on thinking she might be heading for
some sort of disaster.  "I expect that if that guy thinks there's even a
slight chance I'll show him my boobs again, he'll be hard to divert," she
thought.

   "Why don't you come down with me," Ella asked, "most of the office is
already down there, and my car is parked right in front of the bar, so I'll
just be a minute putting my stuff in the trunk, then you can buy me my
first drink!"

   Thinking getting to the bar and having a look around might help her keep
the two men on her mind from meeting, Tracy agreed; they left together,
taking the elevator down two floors to street level instead of the stairs
because of Ella's cargo.  They joined their co-workers, one round ahead
already, and ordered their first drink.  Tracy was too nervous to fully
relax, but eventually got into the spirit of the occasion.  Kyle's arrival,
right on time as usual, brought on a round of introductions.

   Trying to enjoy the gathering but still on edge, Tracy worried that the
annoying man she'd treated to a boob flash a few weeks ago right in this
same bar might show up and spill what luckily was still a secret to anyone
whose opinion she cared about.  She also worried about her own behavior,
afraid some indecent compulsion might take hold of her at about as bad a
moment as possible.

   Whether brought on by the stressful situation, a little alcohol, or just
purely random, Tracy began to feel light-headed, a sensation she had come
to learn was often a precursor to some tawdry sort of behavior.  Working
hard to maintain her composure in the eyes of her companions, her thoughts
were less calm, "NOT NOW!  AND PLEASE, NOT HERE!" Whatever was about to
come over her hadn't become overpowering yet, giving her time to make an
excuse to get away, telling Kyle she needed to go back to the office for a
few minutes, but would be back soon.

   "I can come up with you," he offered.

   "No, I won't be long, you should stay and enjoy your beer," she replied,
figuring she'd be less stressed being on her own for a few minutes, maybe
even be able to fight off whatever urge was trying to gain control of her.
"Mind if I leave my purse with you?  All I need is my card key,"

   "Sure, I'll guard it with my life," he said sarcastically.

   She grimaced as she rode the elevator up to the third floor and thought,
"if I do end up doing something indecent, I guess it's better that I do it
where there's nobody else around to see it."

   Walking around the empty office without really knowing why she was
there, Tracy was beginning to think her short spell of light-headedness had
been a false alarm, that she might have been woozy for a less worrisome
reason.  "Maybe I just need a snack," she laughed.  She headed for the
elevator, thinking she might as well return to the bar.  When its doors
slid open, instead of stepping in to the open cab, she just stood still
until the doors closed, then turned away, nearly falling down as she lost
her balance.

   She headed to the stair and began walking up.  She passed the 4th and
5th floors and continued all the way to the top of the staircase.  Ignoring
the large "Authorized Personnel Only" sign on the door at the top landing,
she pushed the door open and looked around.  She could tell from the
shadows on the roof she was near the West end of the building, with a clear
view to the faraway East stair.  Looking around at the odds and ends piled
up at the side of the landing, she noticed a scrap of 2x4, perfect for her
purpose.  She put the hunk of wood down in the door opening and let go of
the door, watching as it closed most of the way but was kept from latching
by her improvised doorstop.

   Her work at the West stair tower completed, Tracy walked back down to
her office three floors down.  She checked the office one more time to
confirm it was unoccupied.  It wouldn't matter if she bumped into any
co-workers right then, but she knew by now that the urge currently
controlling her was intent on getting her out of her clothes; she quivered
to think she might soon be making another pass through her workplace in the
nude, but didn't feel like she had any say in the matter.

   Satisfied that she didn't have any company in the office, Tracy headed
up the east stair, passing the 3rd and 4th floors one more time on her way
to the roof level.  When she opened the door she had another in her day's
seemingly endless supply of surprises.  She had lost track of how many
turns she had made coming up the stairs, and instead of looking back across
a broad expanse of roof to the West stair, she was looking at the edge of
the roof at the East side of the building, no more than fifteen feet beyond
the door.

   Being so close to the edge scared Tracy less than what was in plain
sight just across the street.  She was looking at a platform full of
commuters waiting for the next southbound train on the Riverside line. 
Most of them were facing the tracks, with their backs towards her; luckily,
a row of billboards blocked the view from the northbound side.

   "That's still a whole lot of people just a stone's throw away and facing
me," she said to herself, "maybe I can just forget all about this and go
back to the bar." She closed the door and turned to go back downstairs, but
froze as she imagined herself back in the bar, standing on a table and
getting out of her clothes.  "Or maybe I can't.  Or shouldn't."

   Tracy tried to begin undressing in the relative privacy of the stair
tower.  She had a sleeveless white blouse on, unbuttoned, over a cropped
pink camisole, so taking off the blouse seemed like the obvious place to
begin, but when she tried to slip her left arm out of the blouse, her right
hand rebelled.  Instead of obeying her, the rogue hand left her blouse in
place, instead reaching for the doorknob and swinging the door open again.
She realized that her current compulsion wasn't about to settle for her
undressing inside the stair tower, nothing less than stripping for a random
audience of commuters would do!

   Still firmly in the grip of her current urge, Tracy propped the door
open with a half-empty paint can and stepped out onto the roof.  Her heart
was racing as she faced the rail line platform and tried getting her blouse
off again.  The lightweight white top came off easily this time.  She
dropped it to the roof, but afraid the wind might blow it and the card key
in one of its pockets off to the street below, she stepped back into the
stair enclosure just long enough to drape the garment neatly over a
railing, then came back out to continue stripping.

   Tracy's skirt was the next piece of her outfit to be surrendered to her
urge, presenting the half dozen or so commuters who'd caught on to her act
with a fine view of her thong-clad ass as she returned to the stair to hang
up the pleated maroon mini.  Becoming more than a little excited to see the
growing interest from the commuters, Tracy didn't draw out the removal of
her sandals much, but once she had tossed them into the stair she made
something of a production of peeling off her sheer black stockings, slowly
working each thigh-high bit of hosiery down and off, then making a separate
trip back to the stair to put each one away.

   Once both of her stockings were safely draped over the railing inside
the stair tower, Tracy turned to face her audience, now up to at least
fifteen men and women.  Her pink cotton camisole was light enough that the
sharper-eyed of them might have been able to tell that she wasn't wearing
anything under it, with the thin pink fabric not able to hide her stiff
nipples.  "This has been an amazing experience, but now," she thought,
looking down at the flimsy remains of what had been a reasonably
respectable workplace outfit, "now it's getting serious!"

   Looking out from the shadowy space inside the stair enclosure, Tracy
studied the faces of her audience, concluding that at least she'd been
lucky in one regard -- she didn't see anyone she knew looking back at her.
"Maybe I can end this show now," she thought.  She grabbed the door handle,
thinking she could wave goodbye to her followers as she pulled the door
closed, get her clothes back on and head back downstairs with a bit of her
dignity intact.  "Or maybe not," she whispered as her hand declined to pull
the door shut and her legs brought her back out on the roof.

   It seemed like the crowd on the platform knew she had been thinking
about ending her show; they gave her a loud welcome back, trying to
encourage her to keep going.

   They needn't have worried, her urge to get out of her clothing was as
strong as ever.  She pulled her camisole up over her head and stood facing
her fans with the pink garment dangling at her side from her right hand and
her boobs fully on display.  After taking a minute to enjoy the cheers and
whistling coming from across the street, she turned back to the stairs and
set her cami on the railing along with practically everything else she was
wearing just a few minutes ago.

   Tracy didn't even bother trying to escape the urge controlling her now.
She was sure her current compulsion wouldn't fade away until her last bit
of clothing joined the rest of her outfit lined up neatly on the railing.

   As she moved out onto the roof, the cheering from across the street was
drowned out, first by the rumbling of a Southbound train approaching the
platform, followed by the squealing of steel on steel as it braked and came
to a stop.  She watched as some of her audience turned away and boarded the
train, surprised to feel sorry they were going to miss the end of her act,
then flattered and excited when she realized that most of her fans were
still there when the train's doors closed, choosing to get home half an
hour later than planned so they could stay and watch her!

   Tracy waited for the noise of the departing train to fade away, emerging
from the shadows only when she could hear her hopeful fans, a few of whom
were beginning to think they'd made a mistake in waiting to see if the hot
chick across the street was really going to get completely naked.  No doubt
congratulating themselves for having made the right choice in letting the
train go without them, her remaining audience started cheering again the
second they saw her return.

   Tracy took a couple steps forward past the propped open door and waved
at her audience, then turned her back on them.  Looking back over her
shoulder, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her thong and slowly
pulled it down over her ass cheeks.  She paused for a few seconds, then
bent over to be able to guide the tiny red garment slowly down her thighs,
finally letting her last remaining bit of clothing drop to her feet.

   Turning around to face her cheering admirers, Tracy stood and waved for
at least a full minute, giving the crowd on the platform a good long look
at her neatly trimmed pubes and her increasingly damp pussy.  As she soaked
up the applause, she began to feel the lessening of tension she'd learned
was a sign her compulsion was receding.  Still waving and blowing kisses at
the commuters across the street, she realized she was finally free and
could do as she wished.

   Tracy surprised herself as much as she did her fans when her first
post-urge action was to slip her left foot free from the tiny pile of red
fabric and kick it off her right foot, hard enough to send her thong
sailing over the edge of the building!  She couldn't help laughing when she
saw a handful of men rush down the stairs, apparently intent on taking her
thong as a souvenir.

   Tracy turned and stepped back inside, ready to get dressed and head
downstairs.  She had her camisole in hand and was about to put it on when
she began trembling; a new idea had come to her for how to end her show. 
Knowing whatever she did next was her choice, not an urge beyond her
control made her more nervous than ever, but after taking a minute to psych
herself up, she put the pink cami back on the railing, then stepped back
through the doorway, out onto the roof, stopping slightly beyond the edge
of the propped open door.

   Tracy squinted, momentarily blinded by the harsh brightness of her
surroundings.  The clouds which had blocked the sun until then had drifted
away, and the late-afternoon sun reflecting off the white roof of the
office building forced her to pause for a moment while her eyes adjusted.
The contrast between the dimly lit stairwell behind her and the expanse of
the practically glowing roof surface was unsettling.

   Her right hand reached back for the doorknob, and as soon as she had a
firm grasp on it she kicked the paint can she'd used as a doorstop away. 
Without the paint can to hold the door in place, Tracy felt the slight tug
of the door's closer trying to do its job.  She blew her audience a kiss
with her left hand and took a short pause to consider her options.  A few
seconds later she let go of the doorknob and began waving to her fans with
her right hand!

   The door began to close, but stopped when its edge gently bumped up
against her right ass cheek.  Her heart racing, she made a slight shift
forward, just enough to let the door slip past her and continue closing.  A
few seconds after she let the door go, she heard its lock click shut behind
her!

   The new plan she'd just committed to didn't permanently cost her any
clothes the way sending her thong flying over the building's edge had, but
it did promise to complicate the task she now faced in getting back into
them.  She needed to cross almost the full length of the roof to get to the
West stair, walk downstairs, cross the same distance inside the building to
get back to the East stair and her waiting clothing, completely naked every
step of the way!

   "I sure hope it's all waiting for me when I get there," she worried,
looking at the locked door and shaking her head.

   Tracy started to walk towards the West stair, but picked up her pace to
a quick jog after noticing the parking garage next door to the South of her
building was unusually full and still had cars filling the level nearest
her.  With her attention locked on the cars still parking and people
already out of their cars walking towards the elevator, she failed to
notice another source of voyeurs.

   At least half of the balconies on the facade of the 10 story apartment
building just to the North appeared to be occupied, and judging by the
catcalls, whistling, laughing and cheering, many of the residents had
clearly noticed her.  "I'm guessing they probably don't get to see a naked
lady jog by very often," she thought, smiling.  Without stopping to study
the building, Tracy could only guess how many more people were now getting
to watch her nude jog.  "A couple dozen, at least," she groaned, blushing
from head to toe.  She picked up her pace again and turned her face away
from her new audience, assuming at least a few of them would be quick
enough to record this moment for posterity.

   Tracy breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the East stair and saw
the door still propped open as she'd left it.  She stepped inside, relieved
to finally be done flaunting her naked body but surprised to also feel a
little sorry her exposure was over.  As embarrassing as her rooftop
striptease had been, she had to admit it had been thrilling!  She began
hustling down to the 5th floor to make her return to the other stair.  When
she reached the door and found it locked from the stair side, she was
confused, but eventually remembered that this level had only one tenant, so
it made sense the lock would prevent anyone from gaining access to their
space from the stair.

   When she made it down to the 4th floor, she wasn't surprised to find the
door set up the same way, since this floor was also occupied by a single
tenant.  "Down to the 3rd floor it is," she said to herself, slightly
annoyed by the extra travel but glad to be nearing the end of this crazy
adventure.  "If what I've done here doesn't stave off urges when they could
really cause me trouble, I can't imagine what would," she thought.

   Finally reaching the 3rd floor, Tracy stepped out into the corridor
connecting her office, the stairs, an elevator, a law firm and a small
accounting firm.  Even though she was sure it was unoccupied, walking past
her workplace in the nude somehow made her feel even more vulnerable than
she had at any point during this adventure.  Seeing the reflection of her
naked body in the glass wall of the conference room made her shiver, but
she couldn't help pausing for a moment to look at herself.  Though she knew
even if she had one she could never show it to anyone, she found herself
wishing she could take a naked selfie with her workplace as a backdrop!

   Once she made it past her office, Tracy only had about fifty feet of
corridor to cover before she would be in the privacy of the stair tower
where she'd left her clothes.  "Almost done," she thought, seconds before
the law firm's door swung open.  With nowhere to hide anywhere nearby, she
stood still and covered herself as well as she could as a janitor pushing a
mop and bucket joined her in the corridor!

   "Miss!  You can't be walking around here like that!" he yelled.

   "I'm sorry," she answered, "I'm on my way to get dressed right now."

   Stepping closer, the grey-haired man squinted and said, "Say, I know
you! You work in the building, don't you!"

   "Uhhh, yeah," she stammered, "please don't tell my boss.  I agreed to a
stupid dare, but I promise I'll never do it again." She wasn't sure how he
knew her, she pretty much never worked late enough to be around when he
was, and couldn't remember ever having seen him before that moment. 
Whatever she thought, he seemed sure that he recognized her, and even
worse, knew where she worked.

   "Yeah, I remember!  I couldn't forget a pretty girl like you!  I've seen
you plenty of times working in the Starbucks next to the lobby."

   Fighting back an urge to laugh, Tracy realized she knew who he was
mistaking her for.  She didn't think she and the barista looked all that
much alike, maybe a little, but guessed having her standing just a few feet
away stark naked was throwing him off.  She replied, "You got me; Can we
make a deal?  I'll give you one free coffee a day for a week if you don't
tell anyone about this, okay?"

   The man thought a minute before replying, "Make it three weeks, and you
got yourself a deal!"

   "Deal!" Tracy replied, "Three weeks of free coffee it is!" She stepped
forward, her right hand extended for the handshake sealing their deal.  The
janitor smiled broadly as they shook hands, looking forward to claiming his
free coffee, a nice bonus on top of what had already been his best night
ever on this job, or any job, really.  He'd had the occasional free cup of
coffee before, but he'd never seen and talked to a naked babe while he was
on the clock!

   Tracy was pleased with her free coffee prank, wishing she could be there
to see how the janitor's attempt to collect his first free cup played out.
Once she had said goodbye to the janitor, she entered the East stair and
climbed quickly up to the roof level.  As long she'd been away from the
bar, she could only wonder what Kyle might be thinking she was doing. 
"Probably nothing even close to what I've actually been getting up to," she
laughed as she pulled her skirt up and zipped it.  She got dressed as
quickly as possible and hustled down the stair.

   She paused outside her office for a look at her clothed reflection and
straightened up her clothes a bit, then took the elevator down to street
level.  She rejoined Kyle and her workmates in the bar, apologizing to them
all for being away so long.

   "No worry, we've been having fun chatting with your hubby," Ella said.

   "And they're plying me with beer in hopes of getting me to tell them
some juicy story about you," Kyle added, pointing at the three empty
bottles in front of him on the table.  Slurring his speech slightly, he
added, "but don't worry, I didn't tell them about you going skinny dipping
at Jason's place!"

   "Okay!  Looks like it's time we were leaving," Tracy said, acting a
little annoyed, but actually kind of enjoying the idea of a racy but
essentially harmless bit of gossip about her circulating at work.

   A few days after her escapade stripping on the roof of her workplace,
Tracy was clearing out the miscellaneous mail, receipts and junk which had
been accumulating on her home office desk; she came across the paperwork
included with the prescription she'd been taking.  She finally took the
time to read all the tiny print listing every known side effect of the
drug. When she got near the end of the less common ones, she felt herself
blushing.  "What the hell, how did I miss this, I mean 'may cause excessive
risk-taking behavior' and 'unusual strong urges, including sexual', it's
like they're writing about me!" She called her neurologist right away.

   Sitting in an exam room a few days later, Tracy discussed some of her
recent uncharacteristic behavior with Dr.  Pizoni and asked if her
prescription might be to blame for her recent bold behavior.  She worked
her way up through some of her increasingly indecent actions.  He stopped
her when she described her naked trip out to her car to look for her phone.
She began to understand how extreme her behavior had become when Dr. 
Pizoni told her he'd heard enough to know she was having a serious problem
before she had mentioned any of her experiences where she was actually seen
while topless or naked.

   "What you describe does seem to fit the profile of this drug's less
common side effects.  I can prescribe a different drug which doesn't have
any effects like the ones you're having; the only reason I didn't suggest
it in the first place is that it's no more effective and unfortunately
costs several times as much as what you've been taking." She agreed to try
the other drug, and went to the pharmacy later that day to pick it up.

   "Your total comes to $167.75, will you be paying with cash, credit card
or check?" the pharmacist asked her as he put her new prescription in a
bag, "and do you have any questions?"

   "Yes, I do actually," Tracy replied, "Would this drug be much more
expensive per dose if I only got a one-month supply instead of a
three-month supply?"

   "No, the unit price is the same either way, it's just more convenient to
get the larger quantity."

   "In that case, can you change today's order to a one-month supply?  I
haven't tried the new drug yet, so I don't know how I'll do on it,"

   "I'm sorry, I thought you understood," the pharmacist said, pointing to
the bag, "what you're getting there for your $167.75 IS a one-month
supply."

   "Oh." Tracy pulled out her credit card, doing the math in her head
before handing it to the waiting pharmacist.  "Somewhere around $2,000 a
year," she thought sadly.

   The pharmacist said, "I forgot to ask if you wanted to pick up a refill
of your other prescription; when I looked up your records today I noticed
you're about due for a new supply."

   Kyle had always been the one to pick up her previous prescription, so
she actually had no idea how much it cost; she asked the pharmacist what a
three-month supply of the prescription she'd been taking would cost.

   "Since you've been getting the generic version, a little under $30," he
answered, "that script has three refills available between now and next
spring."

   "Wow, that's a huge difference, "she said, "lets hold off on the new one
today, just give me a 90-day refill of the old one."

   As she waited for the pharmacist to prepare a three-month supply of her
old prescription, she couldn't help worrying about how it had sometimes
affected her behavior, but eventually convinced herself the difference in
cost was just too great for their budget.

   "I'll just have to get better at managing how I react to the original
drug," she said to herself, "and besides, the side effects weren't all that
bad!" She smiled as she waited, and absent-mindedly began unfastening one
of her blouse's buttons...