ENF P 2

I take a deep breath, let the tension flood out of my body. I have to stay calm if I want to make it out of this mess, and panicking isn’t going to help right now. The hallway isn’t a dead end - there’s two exhibits on either side of me, both with a few small attractions to waylay guests for a short while. I slink over and peek into one of the rooms - it’s large glass display cases with wooden bases. There’s another entrance on the other side of the room, but that’s not what catches my attention. It’s the door to a maintenance closet placed next to that far exit. I recall some info about the layout of the museum. Namely, that most of those closets would have vents with direct access to the ground floor.

It’s a long shot, but from the ground floor I could potentially make my way to the main security hub, which connects to a secondary access tunnel that I could use to bypass all of the major entrances and security checkpoints. It’s probably the only way out of the building at this point, if I want to go undetected. But, like I said, it’s a long shot, and there’s a lot of things between me and that hub. First thing’s first though, check this particular closet. I start to stride across the room, feeling that draft whip across my naked body. It’s cool, and the heavy sweat on my body is starting to dry, leaving me shivering and covered in goosebumps.

Not only that, but my arousal isn’t fading. I’m not sure that I’m going to be able to do this, my brain so foggy and my reflexes dulled by the distraction that it’s providing. I almost miss the sound of footsteps coming around the corner. I’m only halfway across the room - there’s no way I could make it to that door and pick the lock in time. I duck behind the largest display case, squatting down and holding my breath. Two sets of footsteps. Two voices.

	It’s a couple. They’re chatting about their plans for dinner. I try to tune it out, listening to their steps and the location of that voice as I pinpoint their movement. As they circle the room, I have to scurry on hands and knees, shuffling about as I work my way closer to the maintenance closet - and the exit. If another person saunters in, I’m done for. This is all that I can think about as I sit there, my back pressed against a glass case, staring at that doorway intently. The couple is still there behind me, behind the case that I’m using for cover. Please, just leave already.

	I don’t notice it at first. I don’t know precisely when I started, but I realize that I’m masturbating. My fingers are between my legs, rubbing intensely and making the slick mess worse. This is wrong. This is a stupid, stupid idea. My body is only barely listening. My other hand slides up, my legs spread. The couple might even be able to see my knees on either side of the display as I hold them apart, one hand plunging fingers deeply while the other fondles a breast. Fingers tweak a nipple more harshly than I was trying for, and I have to bite down HARD on my tongue to keep from moaning. The couple starts to leave. Their back is turned. I can’t waste my chance, I have to leave my job unfinished.

	Hazy with need, I crawl over and stumble to my feet, clutching at my set of lockpicks awkwardly as I set about using my hands for something other than self-gratification. I’m no slouch, and thankfully the lock is simple enough that I could do it on autopilot. I don’t want to use my brain at the moment, and when I get that closet open and duck inside, I set about finishing what I started. More people slowly filter in, and within a few minutes the room is too crowded for me to even dare stepping out. I’m glad that I was swift, that I didn’t delay. As I stand there, lockpicks set aside, leaning against the wall so brazenly exposed in the dark room, I can’t help but think what might have happened. What could still happen.

	What if I get caught? What then? The agency would deny any affiliation, of course. Not only would my mission be swept under the rug, but there would likely be no support for me, either. It’s simply too risky, my case would be massive. A naked woman in a museum who’s also a master thief? They wouldn’t touch that story with a fifty-foot pole. I’d be stuck handling myself, and there’s no way I could. The thought that I’m in such serious danger is what it takes to push me over the edge. My knees quiver and I nearly sink to the floor in a sweaty, satisfied mess.

	I was silent, at least. That’s about all I can think of as I stand up, wipe my shaky hands off on my thighs and take inventory of the room. I have to push it all out of my head. Sure, it was some spontaneous masturbation. Nothing wrong with it, though. It clears all those thoughts from my head, helps me focus. That’s what I need right now, focus. Not more thoughts about this bizarre exhibitionistic streak that I’ve developed.

	The vent. I crouch down to find it, worried for a brief moment that I was wrong. It takes a moment, but after shifting a few buckets out of the way, I feel that weakly-protected vent in the floor that has to lead down to the ground floor. There’s nothing in the room to use as clothing, I note. I was half-hoping there would be an extra janitorial uniform or something, to be entirely honest. At the same time, there’s a small nagging in the back of my head. I’m glad there’s no clothes. This is fun. I’ve never felt so alive. It’s a terrifying thought, and I flush bright red as I try to shove it from my head, burying myself in my work for the time being.

	The vent only needs to be unscrewed and I am able to slip down into it, holding my lockpicks in my mouth as I use all of my limbs to slow the descent. It’s steep, and it feels dangerous, the vent being just barely large enough for me to fit in. I can feel the air conditioning whipping up a storm around me, buffeting my body as I plunge down. It’s so damn cold, I start to shiver and fidget. When I feel my feet catch on a ledge, I scurry forward, getting on my hands and knees as I spot dim light filtering through a vent not too far away. It’s much smaller, and I end up army crawling my way to the vent, my body pressing against the top and the bottom of the vent. My breasts drag uncomfortably on the icy metal and my nearly-numb fingers pry at the vent cover.

	It’s off. I pause, trying to listen for people as I slowly, carefully set it down. I start to crawl out of the vent, glancing about. The room is dark, but there are still people moving about. There are oases of light, each one showcasing a different rare artifact that the museum has acquired. My luck is looking up. The replace the vent haphazardly, clinging to the side of the room. There’s very little chance that anyone is going to see me here, but I can’t risk it. They’re all killing their night vision by staring at things in the light, but I could still-

	“Oh, sorry.” It comes from a figure clad in a slim black dress. I bump right into their stealthy form, my arm nudging her back. I freeze. I awkwardly shift away from the woman as she glances over her shoulder at me. She’s not really paying attention, but I catch the way that her eyes widen as she sees me. Notices that I’m standing there in the nude. I mumble out an apology, my face burning and my heart pounding. What the fuck am I supposed to do?

	She turns to face me, and I instinctively reach down and cup my crotch with one hand, the other still clutching my lockpicks tightly. The woman snickers, covering her mouth as she watches me. Her voice is amused, though there’s a tinge of something like skepticism in it as she speaks.

“Don’t let me.. Uhh.. Stop you.”

	It snaps me from my daze. I’m still stunned, but recovering. I step closer to her, my voice hushed.

“Please don’t tell anyone.”
“I don’t think anyone would believe me. Just.. Hold on..”

There’s a small snap. She was already holding her phone, and I wasn’t even thinking of that.

“Your secret’s safe with me, just a momento.”

I’m mortified. She starts to walk off, stepping past me with a grin on her face. I feel a hand on my asscheek, nails digging into flesh briefly as she gives it a squeeze. I suppress a complaint, and she’s gone. My heart races as I rush over and hide behind a sprawling display of architecture. There’s crumbled pillars scattered about the room as decoration, and a pile of them serves as a good spot to recover while I try to figure out what the fuck I’m doing.

	I try to forget about the encounter with the woman, to focus on the mission. I can’t. I just fucking can’t, and I find myself masturbating again. It was conscious this time, and I fight against the urge, but there’s no way that I’d be able to focus while my mind drifts to thoughts of her. She has a PICTURE of me! Sure, it may not turn out given how dark the room is, but she has a picture of me standing there in the nude, one hand over my wet pussy. Is that what’s making me horny? Is that why I’m drowning in my lust over here?

	Twice. I’ve masturbated twice on a mission. It’s all I can think of as I lean back, sweat trickling down my naked body and juices slathered over my fingers. I finish rather swiftly, my body trembling as I work hard to keep from making any noise. I stare down at my fingers for a moment, stunned at my own actions and somewhat ashamed. Picking up my picks, my breath heavy, my legs weak, I pull myself together. I have to. I’m not out of this yet, and I can’t keep doing this while I’m still in public.

	The darkness stretches for a while, a set of three rooms being converted into this style to create the illusion of a long, winding hallway. I spot some signs near one of the entrances that helps me get my bearings. It looks as if the fastest way out is still through the maintenance tunnel. If I could make it into the security hub two rooms away, it’s a straight shot out into the city. It’s growing dark as well, which makes my job a little easier, assuming I can get out of this damn museum.

	I start to walk. I need to get to the end of this pitch-black room, and I’m not going to manage it if I sit around, scared of bumping into a security guard. The people are mostly at the artifacts, too distracted to strain their eyes staring into the shadows. It’s lucky, I suppose. And as I come up on the only decently-lit room between me and that security post, I realize that I’m going to need all of the luck that I can get.

	This room is a huge gallery. It’s fucking massive, and they’ve put a boat in it. A warship from some ancient Greco-Roman navy, sitting proudly just off to the center of the room. It gives people some room to navigate around it, and I can see the small hallway on the other side of the room that MUST lead to the security checkpoint, but what I don’t see is a safe path across. I lean back into the corner of the dark room, catching my breath. My head swims as I try to figure out this puzzle. I notice something flickering in the corner of the room.

	It’s a security camera, hidden behind a half-circle of dark security glass. The flash of light was there to let staff know that it was in the process of rebooting. Her electronic nuke had worn off, and they had repaired the system. I’m out of time. If I delay any longer I’m going to be spotted by security cameras at some point. The display room with the boat is large, yes, but I might be able to make it over to the boat itself. Slide over the railing, cling to the back side of the boat and hope that nobody decides to walk around the massive thing as I sprint across the length of it. It’s a stupid plan that could be foiled easily by one attentive museum-goer or a patrolling security guard, but I’m all out of options.

	I peek one more time. There aren’t that many people standing about in this room, and when I start running, I feel pretty good about my chances. ‘Pretty good’ only goes so far, though. I have second thoughts once I make it to the boat. What if someone saw me? What if someone was watching that I couldn’t see? I can’t stop to think about it. My bare feet slap quietly on the tile as I rush across, pausing over to peek out around the corner of the ship. I’m mostly in the clear. There’s someone standing there with their back to me, talking on a phone. A child sits scribbling in a coloring book on a nearby bench, and a teenager texts while her family talks about the ship.

	I close my eyes and take a breath. It’s a sprint, but considering I’m barefoot, there’s not much challenge in keeping it stealthy. I practically slide into the hallway, not stopping until I’m at the door. I don’t stop to look over my shoulder as I immediately go to town on the lock, jamming my picks into place and feeling about as I struggle to get it open. When that satisfying click hits my ears, I sigh in relief. Of course, I’m ready for whatever’s on the other side. I’m just praying it’s not a guard with a gun levelled at my face. One last glance over my shoulder. Nobody’s there. Nobody followed me, and if they called security, nobody responded fast enough. The door opens easily enough, and I prepare to make my escape out into the city.

	End Ch 2