Streak of Shame

 A genderswapped version of this CFNM scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5nh4h4pVG6w 

           “Mmmnn…” Natalie moaned in her sleep. She rubbed her face against the sofa cushions. She was completely naked. Her skinny, peachy ass pointed skyward. Her back was arched with her face planted into the sofa, and her arms were pointed cartoonishly behind her. The sofa was in the middle of an expensive loft apartment. Fresh morning sunlight poured in from the windows.

            “Mmnnggrr…” Natalie grumbled. Her head was pounding. She propped herself up on her hands and knees and rubbed her eyes with her fingers. Her hair normally straight hair was unkempt and frizzy. Her small boobs hung down as much as they could, tiny dark nipples pointing at the sofa.

            “Morning,” a male voice said.

            Natalie looked between her legs. An Indian man was standing in the small kitchenette behind her. He stirred a cup of coffee while he watched her with a smug look on his face. His eyes were staring right at her puffy pink naked pussy, at her bare, lean thighs and calves, and at her skyward pointed ass, her skinny cheeks doing nothing to hide the pink star of her asshole between them.

            “WHOA!” Natalie squawked. Her hands flung backward to cover herself while her whole body twisted to try and protect her naked bottom from his eyes. It was an awkward, convulsing half second of flailing movement that ended with her landing on her back on the floor with a thud.

            Now on the floor and her legs spread open, Natalie grabbed at a throw pillow from the sofa and pinned it firmly between her legs with clutching fingers. She prodded at her pussy through the pillow, nothing felt sore or wet. Her other arm wrapped around her chest and clasped over her boobs.  

            “m-Morning…” she stammered. Her heart raced. Adrenaline blasted through her veins.

            “The name’s Kamal,” he said. “And you look like you could use some coffee.”

            “Yeah-coffee…” Natalie’s head whipped around, looking for her clothes, for escape routes out of the strange apartment, taking note of the hallway past the kitchenette and what looked like the front door on the opposite side of the living room. She sat back on the couch, bare ass and pussy recoiling at the feeling of someone else’s rough fabric against them. She craned her neck, peering over the side of the sofa. She felt herself start to break out into a sweat across her body.

            “Where’s my dress?” she demanded.

            “I don’t know, could be anywhere,” Kamal said calmly.

            Kamal walked over with a bowl of cereal in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. He offered her the mug.

            Natalie looked at the coffee mug, looked down to her hands glued to the throw pillow and her boobs, and then looked up at him with squinting annoyance. He shrugged and placed the mug on the table.

            He was wearing a t-shirt and work out shorts, his muscular legs covered with curly hair. His handsome, broad face was covered in a tidy short beard that twisted around his bemused, full lips. Her eyes widened as she recognized him. From the club. He said he was a doctor or something. She couldn’t remember. But she did remember him on the dance floor and her, drunk out of her mind, grinding her ass against the hot, firm bulge in his jeans.

            Natalie turned bright red. Her eyes darted over his shoulder to the front door. She tried to smile.

            “So… things got a little crazy last night, huh?”

            Still standing over her, Kamal started munching on his cereal.

            “I guess,” he said between chews. He was looking down at his bowl now, completely absorbed in his cornflakes.

            Natalie frowned up at him, blistering annoyance prickling across her brain. “So… did you wear a condom… or…”

            “CCrrPPHKKHH!” Kamal coughed on his cereal. His eyes immediately turned red and bloodshot as he tried not to choke.

            “We did not have sex! Oh my God, did you think we had sex!?”

            Natalie’s mouth opened, flapping open and shut like an angry goldfish. “Yes! Kamal!” she shouted. “When I wake up NAKED and HUNGOVER on a strange man’s couch-“

            “Hey, Natalie, you left your shoes in my room. I almost tripped on them.”

            A tall woman wearing pajama pants and a muscle shirt walked into the living room. More bulky than chubby, she was built like a brick wall. Her hair was cut into a short buzzcut. Pink pumps dangled from her fingers. Natalie’s eyes darted from Kamal to the new woman who dwarfed him with her size. Natalie’s eyes then laser focused, zoomed in, on the woman’s necklace, two interlocking ♀ symbols.

            Natalie’s mouth twisted and spasmed. Her eyeballs were enormous. Did she? Could she? Was she?

            “d-did I-I-I?” Natalie gasped and stammered, her voice drying out. She was growing even redder in a full-body blush.

             “Yes, you did,” the other woman said with an eye roll, cutting Natalie off.

            “Did I leave my dress in there?” Natalie squeaked.

            The woman let out an exasperated sigh. “No, when I met you, you weren’t wearing a dress, or anything really.”

            Natalie’s stomach twisted with dread.

            “Will you two stop teasing her!” a new voice laughed.

            A second man walked into the living room from down the hall. Blond and slim, he brushed his teeth with one hand as he talked. He was wearing a long dress shirt and nothing else. The half erect shape of his cock prodded at the front of his shirt, making it tent forward. The mushroom shape of its head was outlined through the thin fabric.

            “OH MY GOD!” Natalie wailed in despair at the sight of a third person she might have had sex with.

            Turning to everyone in the room, she shouted, “Did I have sex with anyone in this apartment last night?!”

            She was so red that her skin felt like it was going to catch on fire any second.

            The woman smirked at her. “No, no you didn’t. You were drunk as shit and we didn’t know where you lived, so we brought you here.”

            “You threw your clothes out the taxi window,” the blond man added.

            “Thank you.” Natalie huffed. “Very funny. That’s very funny, making fun of the hungover, naked woman.”

            She fidgeted on the sofa. She wanted to leave, but getting up would leave her ass exposed. She tried, unsuccessfully, to bend the throw pillow down between her legs while sitting so that it covered both her ass and pussy.

            The woman snorted.

            “Oh, you don’t have to be embarrassed,” the blond man said. “We’re all doctors here. We see dozens of vaginas every day.”

            “I see thousands,” the woman confirmed, nodding.

            “I just helped a woman pull a squash out of her vagina last week,” Kamal said wincing. “It was stuck way up there.”

            Glaring at all of them, Natalie slowly got up off the sofa, exposing her small round ass to all of them. She curled and hunched her back as if that would cover her completely exposed cheeks. Kamal craned his neck, making sure to get a good look as she stumbled across the room toward the door. A heart-shaped sweat stain was left on the sofa from Natalie’s sweating butt.

            The woman clapped slowly, mockingly celebrating Natalie’s bravery to bare her ass. Natalie removed her hand from her boobs for a split second to swipe her heels out of the woman’s clapping hands.

            Natalie anxiously danced from foot to foot in front of the blond guy absently brushing his teeth, staring him down. His cock pointed at her through her shirt, no longer half-erect. Her lip curled at him.

            “Can you get me a towel or something?” she said.

            He frowned. “It’s laundry day, so I don’t think we have any to spare. Isn’t that right, Jasmine?”

            The woman, Jasmine, nodded. “Yep, I don’t think so.”

            “Although, I think you’re forgetting something,” the blond guy said.

            Natalie’s eyebrows knit together, confused.

            He pointed to the throw pillow covering her crotch.

            Grinding her teeth, Natalie removed the throw pillow, shoving it into his arms, exposing her shaven pussy lips for just a moment before her free hand returned to protectively to her crotch, but this time with her sweating, hot fingers.

            “Fuck you.” She hissed.

            Dropping her shoes on the ground, she stepped into them.

            Then, without thinking, she bent over at the waist to more securely tug her heels in place, presenting her bent over pussy and asshole to Jasmine and Kamal in the process.

            Jasmine whooped like a cheerleader, and Kamal let out a shrill wolf whistle.

            Natalie straightened up immediately, recoiling like their sounds had slapped her ass.

            “FUCK ALL OF YOU!” she screamed at their grinning faces. Wrenching open the front door, she stormed outside.

***

            Every car was honking at her. Natalie, one arm over her boobs and one hand over her pussy powerwalked as fast as she could through the busy morning New York streets. Hundreds of commuters stopped to stare at her streaking down the sidewalks in her party pumps, her body burning red all over like a tomato and glistening with panic sweat. Their catcalls and laughter reached her burning ears over the honking horns. Her eyes darted up and down and away, desperately trying to avoid any sort of eye contact, while their eyes completely absorbed the sight of her slim naked back, her swinging long legs, and her small soft buttcheeks, which jiggled and shuddered with each desperate CLICK-CLACK of her heels on the pavement.