h a l f b a k e r yFaster than a stationary bullet.
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She was comfortable in her new attire. It fit well and she was happy with her appearance, subtly tantalizing, yet not too revealing. It seemed appropriate for the occasion, and so it was, at first. But as the hours grew late, the light and airy social environment degraded far beyond the usual silliness.
Tonight it was bad, really bad. The boys were performing their mating rituals in packs before her, as if she were some sort of mongrel in heat. This was not for her, not tonight, anyhow. It could only be followed by an embarrassing Monday morning back at the office, one of those mornings when nobody acknowledges one another for fear of having their blurry antics rehashed.
She wanted out, but with this crowd, heading for the door was certainly the path of greatest resistance, if even possible. Fortunately, beneath her classy exterior, she was wearing the only thing she wished hugging her bottom that evening - her bungeehose. She grabbed her bag, politely excused herself, and headed for the bathroom.
She opened a window and looked out. 3 stories down, she thought to herself, no problem. She removed her shoes and tossed them out the window along with her bag, slid about 8 feet of stocking down each leg and tied the ends together around a sturdy plumbing fixture, then dove out the window.
The bungeehose legging raced over her ankles as she fell, drawing from material folded in smooth layers on her upper thighs. As the layers were exhausted, and then the elasticity, she came to a stop about 10 feet off the ground.
Pulling the outer latch on the sleek yet snug waist belt released the legging from the upper garment save for two nylon cords which unraveled from within the belt. She belayed herself down using the latch to adjust the friction on the cords.
Safely on the ground, she detached a cord from the belt, retrieved the legging, put her shoes on, grabbed her bag, and she was gone!
Nobody knows how or when she left that night, nor will they ever. She flashed each of them an inquisitive smirk on Monday morning. They will never ask.
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The legs are tied to each other around the fixture. When she detaches one of the cords from the belt, she is able to retrieve them by pulling from the side with the cord still attached. |
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there's no way I'd sling my bag out of the window first. |
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reminds me a bit of the thinking (hah) behind my telescopic teddys. |
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You may hold on to your bag if you like. She tosses it because it interferes with her swan dive. |
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Stalkings, yeah, because, um… must have been thinking of silk. :) Corrected. |
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stalkings do funny things to men. |
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(there used to be a TV show called “Silk Stalkings”) |
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"She was wearing the only thing she wished hugging her bottom that evening - Her bungeehose" |
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I'm a guy, so I don't have a lot of experience with sheer legging devices, but I believe that to hug her bottom would indicate that these hose are cut like a pair of pants, with a crotch... To tie the feet to the pipe, and retieve them, you would need two separate legs, wouldn't you? |
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Indeed. They appear constructed as a single item, but are actually three. The legs connect to the belt via the cords, not to the bottom of the bottom hugging material. Both legs release. As a guy, you could wear them under your pants, if you don't mind belaying yourself upside-down, that is. |
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