Mission Day Three: No Underwear
The fabric of the denim dress brushing against my bare skin felt both unfamiliar and electrifying.
My bag held the underwear I had taken off that morning.
I walked the campus paths wearing nothing but a short-sleeved denim mini dress—no bra, no panties.
Every gust of wind made the hem flutter and graze the insides of my thighs. Each time, the illusion that my completely exposed pussy was touching open air sent a jolt through me.
“This is actually insane.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them. Shame burned my cheeks, but at the same time a hot wave surged from somewhere deep below my navel.
It felt like every passing student was staring. Or maybe not. In truth, no one paid me any attention at all.
To them I was just another girl in a cute dress.
But I knew the truth. I knew there was nothing underneath it.
The memory of what had happened at the bus stop early that morning kept circling through my head.
When the bus arrived sooner than expected, my heart had nearly stopped.
I had been taking nude photos, then frantically pulled the dress on and practically fled onto the bus.
Had anyone seen?
The thought made my whole body tremble. It was dangerous. It was terrifying. And that was exactly why it turned me on even more.
I could feel my pussy growing slick. I wanted to touch myself again. But it was time for class.
The lecture hall was on the fourth floor. Normally I would have taken the elevator, but today was different.
I chose the stairs on purpose. Climbing them in a mini dress with no panties meant that if anyone below looked up at the right moment, they might see my pussy. The mere possibility pulled me toward the stairwell like a magnet.
I took the first step. The cold stone floor met my soles through my sandals.
One step. Another. The hem of the dress rode higher with every movement.
I thought I heard footsteps coming up behind me and glanced back, but the stairs were empty.
Then I thought I heard someone descending from above and froze.
That tension felt exquisite. The uncertainty of not knowing when someone might appear made my pussy even wetter.
The insides of my thighs rubbed together with every step. Without panties, my bare folds pressed directly against each other.
My clit brushed lightly against the dress lining with each movement. The tiny friction was electric.
Second floor. Third. Fourth. Whether it was lucky or disappointing, I didn’t encounter a single person on the way up.
I opened the door to the lecture hall. It was 8:30 and the room was still empty.
I took a seat in the back corner. I set my bag beside the desk and pulled out my phone.
I looked through the photos I had taken that morning.
Me sitting on the bus-stop bench in the dress. Then the same pose completely naked. On the screen I stared at the camera with a mix of shyness and daring.
My breasts sat high and firm, my pussy smoothly rounded.
I chose one of the prettier shots of me in the dress and decided to post it on InstaStar.
With the caption: Don’t want to go to class.
The naked version in the exact same pose I would save for Twitter tonight.
I would claim it was AI-generated. It wasn’t. It was a real photo of my bare body.
Every picture I had posted on Twitter this week had been exactly as the mission demanded—real photos I had taken myself.
Not composites. Yet I had written, pretending to be a man, “This is AI-generated.”
What if someone realized they were authentic?
My heart raced at the thought. It terrified me. It also thrilled me. The idea that someone might be looking at my real naked body made my pussy grow wet all over again.
“Ji-soo!”
The voice came from right behind me. My heart nearly burst from my chest. I quickly locked the screen and turned around. It was Haeun.
“Why are you so jumpy? What were you looking at?”
Haeun asked with a puzzled tilt of her head. My pulse hammered against my ribs.
Had she seen the photo? I met her eyes.
Her gaze was perfectly normal. Playful smile, same as always. She didn’t seem to have seen anything.
“No, I was just… lost in thought.”
“What about?”
“Just… class.”
Haeun laughed and dropped into the seat beside me. Relief and disappointment crashed over me at the same time.
Relief that I hadn’t been caught. Disappointment that I had almost been caught. The realization that I really was a pervert hit me hard.
A little later Minji and Sua arrived too.
“Ji-soo, that dress is so cute today!”
Sua said, eyeing my outfit. Minji nodded in agreement.
“It really suits you. Where’d you buy it?”
“Oh, I just… found it in my closet.”
My friends praised the dress, completely oblivious to the truth beneath it.
Class began. The professor’s voice filled the room. My attention, however, was somewhere else entirely.
I could feel every inch of bare skin under the dress. Sitting down had pushed the hem halfway up my thighs.
It felt like my bare ass might actually touch the chair. The thought made concentration impossible.
Time passed in that distracted haze until eleven o’clock, when class finally ended. It was too early for lunch and my next lecture wasn’t until four.
“I’m going to run back to the dorm for a bit. Need to rest.”
“Okay, see you at four.”
I parted ways with Minji, Sua, and Haeun. On the path to the dormitory I thought about my situation.
It was already Wednesday and I had masturbated twice today—once in the library reading room, once in the hallway outside the dorm laundry.
Since I had plans with friends that evening, I needed to fit two more sessions into the free hours. One before noon, one before three. That was the plan.
But I couldn’t think of a suitable location. The dorm had no safe spots left. I had already decided against the women’s bathroom.
Then I remembered the underwear and shorts I had left on the fifth floor of the library yesterday evening. I would go retrieve them and search for a new place along the way.
I reached the library and took the elevator to the fifth floor.
In the rare books section, the underwear, shorts, and cardigan I had stripped off during last night’s session were still tucked between the shelves. I breathed a sigh of relief and stuffed them into my bag.
The memory of what I had done here yesterday flooded back.
Standing naked between the shelves, fingers moving frantically. My pussy grew wet again at the recollection.
I wanted to do it right now, but I had already used this location. The mission required a different place every time.
I thought about the elevator I had taken up.
Would anyone climb five floors by stairs?
The books up here were obscure and unpopular. Anyone who came would probably use the elevator.
What about the emergency stairwell?
I grabbed my bag and headed for the emergency exit. I opened the heavy door and stepped inside.
Faint sounds of people moving on the lower floors drifted up.
First floor, second, maybe third. No footsteps seemed to be climbing all the way to the fifth.
I continued upward. There was an open landing in front of the locked rooftop door.
The space was empty. It might work. Emergency stairs, in front of the roof access.
Was it really safe?
I couldn’t be sure. But that uncertainty was exactly what I craved.
I mounted my phone on the selfie stick and began recording.
One by one I undid the front buttons of the denim dress. My breasts spilled into view. Fourth button, fifth—my navel appeared. When the last button came undone, my pussy was completely exposed.
I slipped my arms free and let the dress fall away. I was naked.
The cool air of the stairwell kissed my bare skin. I listened carefully for any footsteps.
Someone laughed on a lower floor. The sound was distant. Not close. But I had no way of knowing when someone might start climbing.
My fingers found my pussy. It was already soaked. The morning’s near-miss at the bus stop replayed in my mind.
The terror and thrill of almost being caught while taking nude photos. My fingers circled my clit. Sharp pleasure radiated outward.
“Ah…”
A moan escaped before I could stop it. I had to stay quiet. But staying quiet only made it harder.
I pushed a finger inside. Wet walls clenched around it.
Deeper. One knuckle. Two. Three.
I imagined being discovered. Someone climbing the stairs and suddenly seeing me—naked, legs spread, fingers buried in my pussy.
Their shocked face. Or their fascinated one. The fantasy of them taking pictures. The fantasy of rumors spreading across campus.
Every filthy image made me wetter.
Footsteps echoed from below. I froze. Held my breath.
The footsteps faded. Relief washed over me.
And with that relief came an even stronger wave of arousal.
The constant possibility of being caught was driving me insane.
I moved my fingers faster. Obscene wet sounds filled the stairwell.
What if someone heard that?
The thought pushed me harder. I rubbed my clit with my thumb while thrusting two fingers in and out. The rhythm grew frantic. My breathing turned ragged.
“Mmm… mmm…”
I tried to swallow the moans but they kept leaking out. I bit my lip. More footsteps rose from below.
This time they sounded closer. Or maybe it was my imagination. Either way, my heart hammered wildly.
Climax rushed toward me. My inner walls tightened.
My fingers were gripped hard. My thighs shook. My breath locked in my throat. Then it hit.
“Ahhhh…”
The moan echoed through the stairwell. I couldn’t hold it back. Hot fluid spilled over my fingers.
My legs nearly gave out. I slid down the wall, panting.
That was the third masturbation session for Wednesday. Only one more to meet the quota.
But right now I just wanted to savor the lingering pleasure.
Still naked, I leaned against the wall and caught my breath. My heartbeat gradually slowed.
I looked at the slick fluid coating my fingers. Clear, sticky. I brought them to my tongue. Salty.
I stopped the recording. The phone screen showed every second of my naked orgasm in vivid detail.
Could I post this video on Twitter someday? No—I had decided to hold off on videos for now. Just collect them.
I picked up the dress. I almost put it on, then stopped. The underwear was still in my bag.
Should I wear it? No. I had made up my mind. Today I would go without. Just the dress. Nothing underneath. The decision felt firmer than ever.
I buttoned the dress slowly. First button, second, third, fourth. My naked body disappeared from view. But beneath the fabric there was still nothing. I loved that secret.
I descended the emergency stairs, stepped back onto the fifth floor, and took the elevator down. I walked to the lockers.
I took out the underwear and cardigan and placed them inside. Today I would truly live in nothing but this single dress.
I closed the locker door. A strange mixture of relief and resolve settled over me. For the rest of the day I would walk around with nothing under this dress, carrying that thrilling secret inside me.
My stomach growled, so I headed for the student cafeteria. As I walked, the dress fabric kept brushing my legs.
Every sensation felt heightened after my orgasm. Each breeze slipped between my thighs and kissed my bare pussy.
My folds rubbed against the dress lining. The feeling was deliciously sharp.
I stopped at the cafeteria entrance. Students flowed in and out. An ordinary scene.
Yet I carried a secret. The secret that I was completely naked beneath this innocent-looking dress. That hidden truth made me smile.
I took a step forward and walked inside.
One final mission remained for the day.
I still had to masturbate one more time.
Where?
The question lingered as I stepped deeper into the bustling cafeteria.
