Naughty Nancy was not nuts. She knew enough to keep her secrets private and her privates secret. Which is why, although she delighted in a certain kinky treat for herself, she knew enough to never get into trouble.
Which was what attracted her to a daring but promising web site NCDNIP.com. The opening line was delicious, humourous and exciting: It's moderator declared, " I wouldn't be caught dead naked in public! " The site originated in the U.K. so, while the expression 'not caught dead' had the same meaning in America, the term 'dead' was widely used by the Brits to mean 'totally', as in 'dead certain', 'a dead ringer', and 'dead-on' for which Yanks might say 'right on'.
But Nancy was a Canadian who watched Coronation Street and Upstairs/ Downstairs so she was conversant in both the Queen's English and Cockney slang. She got the joke and understood the meaning of the acronym-titled web site. NCDNIP obviously stood for Not Caught Dead Naked In Public. The dare game, for that's what it was, devised scenarios for game players which would put the men and women naked in a public setting but somehow hidden from view.
The dare was to strip totally for a certain period of time in a very public setting but not get caught. Beginners were given easy dares like: 'Go to a washroom in the mall, slip into one of the toilet stalls and strip putting your clothes on top of the toilet tank, count to 100 and then get dressed.' A slightly riskier one for a high school student might be, ' Stay behind after gym class and strip, putting all your clothes into your locker, count to 100 and then get dressed.'
Nancy was in her second year at Carleton University and had already dared to be bare at midnight on the steps of her co-ed dorm's stairwell. Being naked outdoors in spring and summer just before dawn was old hat for her, but the locations she chose were always fairly safe ones in that they afforded some hidden niche and little used area where Nancy could show all to no one but herself ... but still leave open the possibility of being caught.
That was the thing. The dare to be naked but not be caught was most thrilling when it was difficult to pull off and had some element of danger to it. That was why Nancy so enjoyed last Saturday when the week's dare called for her to shop at Reitman's Ladies Ware Boutique at Bayshore Shopping Centre at the busiest time. Her dare was to take a pair of slacks into the change room which was nothing more than a seven foot high cubicle with a draw-curtain hanging on a crossbar for privacy. The fabric curtain hooked to the frame at the middle. The double dare that day was to leave the curtain unhooked and open just a few inches while the dare-devil stripped naked and left her clothing on the floor; then the usual count to 100 ( a slow count like a Quarterback's one-showboat, two-showboat count all the way to 100 showboats ) Then the darer gets dressed and leaves.
Nancy went one better last Saturday by 'accidentally' pulling the curtain back while she was down to her bra and panties and leaving it there for a full five seconds before closing it again. She needed the five seconds to both tempt fate and assure herself she had, indeed, not been caught.
Her thrill at pushing her NCDNIP dare boundaries was what probably encouraged her elaborate on her dare this week. On the surface, it wasn't overly risky, albeit risqué. The NCDNIP dare of the week called for her to go to a public washroom, enter a toilet stall, not lock the stall door, strip naked leaving all her clothes on the floor between the toilet and the door so that they would be visible to anyone who happened to bend down to look ( an unlikely happenstance, to be sure. ) The dare taker must then stand at the back of the stall with legs spread and on either side of the bowl. Arms up and akimbo with hands clasped behind the head for a 'show-boat count' of 100. The dare taker could then get dressed and leave.
Naughty Nancy took it up a notch. The dare assumed the dare-devil would choose a washroom matching their gender. Nancy picked the men's washroom on the third floor at Bayshore as the site of her dare. She waited outside and a few feet from the door as she watched over a three minute period. Sure there were no new arrivals, she looked over her shoulder, took a deep breath and entered.
Her plan was that if some guy was at the urinal or washing his hands or just leaving a stall and saw her, she would just act slightly embarrassed and say 'sorry' and leave, quick-hopping it to another men's washroom to try once more. As luck would have it, the room was empty and she rushed into the nearest toilet stall and closed the door on her fears. The hardest and riskiest part was over and, even though she was still excited, she breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps, as it later turned out, that feeling was a bit premature.
Nancy shucked off all her clothes and left them where they were supposed to be but, in her haste to get into position, she had nudged the pile of discarded garments just a few inches; but now her blouse collar and some of her panties were directly under the stall door and could be seen by anyone walking by.
Nancy hadn't noticed as she had been adding one more daring detail to her task. Instead of beginning her 100 count, she dared herself to masturbate for a 100 count first before placing her hands behind her back. She was excited, aroused and her fidgeting finger fucking mirrored her enthusiasm. Her breathing and moans were audible as the men's room door slammed open and three teenager boys entered. Nancy could tell their approximate age from the sound of their voices and the things they were saying.
Nancy had always imagined guys' locker room scenes to be crude, rude and lewd. She was not prepared for what she heard that day as a virtual 'fly on the wall' but literal bare broad in a stall. Her secret hiding place gave her cover but the thought of getting caught was only one thing to make Nancy blush; the language these boys used and how they referred to girls shocked and amazed Nancy. But, strangely, she found herself even more turned on and only just realized that she had not stopped masturbating as she heard these punks refer to women in general as 'cunts' and their future girl-friends as 'hot-for-it pussy' and girls' mouths as ' gateways to BJ heaven'.
Nancy, ever faithful to a dare, reluctantly removed her hand from her own hot-for-it pussy and put her arms up and placed her hands behind her head. She had no idea why she was turned on by such filthy boy-talk. She blushed even more when she heard one of the guys shout out, " Whoa dude, look at that!"
The young lad and dropped to his knees when he noticed the panties on the floor of Nancy's stall and he had turned his head sideways to better see the rest of the pile of girl garments lying there. Nancy's clothes were lying there free for the taking. And this lad had also seen bare feet and ankles deeper in the toilet stall.
"What do we have here?" he said as he swooped his arms under the door and swept up every stitch of Nancy's clothes including her high heels. Nancy watched them disappear and, even without hand rubbing to help, she came to an orgasm. Not a loud one, but prolonged as she realized what was happening. She also came to the conclusion that the thought of what might come next was making her very horny.
AS it turned out, those three teenagers were neither as adventurous nor as daring as Nancy. But they were just as naughty as they picked up all her clothes and simply walked out with them leaving her NCDNIP, Naughtily Cumming, Delightedly Naked In Public. Her next problem, of course, was how to get out of this without getting caught naked in public.
Manny Engels was on his lunch break and decided to take a leak before treating himself to a double bacon cheeseburger in the mall's food court. This was Manny's first job since securing his B.A. in Sociology, weekend security guard at Bayshore. He was 23 years old, lived with his mother, had to ask to borrow her car, still had acne and hadn't been laid in over a year. No wonder he looked forward to a salt & grease McMeal.
The food court was on the second floor and he had just finished rounds on the third, so he decided, as he really needed a piss anyway, he'd head to the nearest Men's room first. As he turned the corner three punks dashed past him. The lads were laughing their heads off and one was carrying what looked like women's clothing. Mark was about to chase after them, thinking they probably stole the clothes from one of the fashion shops, but then realized he was officially off duty and besides, all the stores have alarm tags on their merchandise and no alarm had sounded, so he shrugged and gave it no further thought.
"It's not like they pay me to think or take chances," reasoned Mark as he opened the door of the Men's room and entered a wonderland he'd only dreamed about. Not that he was immediately aware of the wonders that awaited. His bursting bladder and empty tummy were more on his mind. He was much too occupied to notice the men's room was also occupied. But as he stood, unzipped and holding his own before the urinal, Mark heard a sound coming from the far toilet stall; it could have been whimpering. His senses were on alert now and for the first time he detected an odour stronger than the urinal cake before him. He recognized the smell but couldn't imagine why it would be here.