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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
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A Perfect Day
by Bert Hart (berthart@merr.com)
***
On the last day of each school year, all students at
Darwin High must attend classes naked. The gym has been
partitioned off into cubicles and mattresses have been
provided for couples to use. But eight girls decide to
protest. (MF-teens, exh, orgy, rom, oral, mast)
***
Nude Day falls on the last day of every school year.
Today is my first. I put on a brand new pair of panties
and my best bra so that whichever boy undresses me will
see nice things. I go into the kitchen in my peasant
blouse and retro pleated skirt but I can't eat.
The protest sign is so bulky that Mom drives me to
Darwin High. I put it up near the main entrance, next
to the clothes lockers. The other seven girls join me
and we huddle behind it. Soon other students begin to
arrive. Those that are already naked go directly into
the school. The rest disrobe and lock their clothes up
first.
There are a lot of nude couples, mostly upperclassmen.
As one pair goes by they are talking about the
Exploratorium. I guess they were lucky enough in the
school lottery to snag a time slot today. I've never
been inside, but they say the Ex is the best place in
school to make love, because the principal put in real
nice beds and there's a shower and all.
Of course for legal reasons a Federal Nudity Inspector
monitors couples via closed circuit. But I've heard
that the cam can be turned off if both students face it
and clearly state their consent.
I know all five of the clothed and boisterous freshmen
boys who are standing in front of our sign. They're
reading it, nudging each other, laughing, getting their
courage up.
PROTEST!
WE ARE OPPOSED TO THE PRACTICE OF NUDE DAY; THEREFORE
WE WILL NOT TAKE OFF OUR CLOTHES. IN THE SPIRIT OF
PASSIVE RESISTANCE, WE WILL ALLOW OTHERS TO REMOVE
THEM, BUT WE ASK THAT YOU NOT SHAME YOURSELVES BY DOING
THIS.
Of course we pretty much know it isn't going to work,
but sometimes you protest just to make a point. Even in
the unlikely event that the boys do leave us alone,
sooner or later we'll have to undress ourselves. The
law says anyone who doesn't participate on Nude Day
must repeat the whole school year. You'd never
graduate! So that's why, when we discussed how we were
going to protest, we couldn't go with Civil
Disobedience.
So we went with the Gandhi thing. He believed that
people of good conscience will desist from immoral
behavior when gently shown the right path. Uh-huh. Teen
boys. Girls to be stripped. Conscience. Looking at the
boys, I know the whole protest is way lame. They
probably think we are just teasing them.
The boys are rowdy now. They want to know why we think
we are better than the other girls. We're all wearing
skirts as a sign of solidarity. Bruce orders us to pull
them up so he can see if we are wearing anything
underneath, and Dawn even starts to comply. Finally
Jason just walks around the sign and up to Marci and as
he unzips her skirt he says, "I can do this, right?"
She nods, terrified. He pops the button and pulls the
skirt right off and there she is in her panties and all
the boys are staring. And then he reaches forward and
does something really naughty. I suppose Gandhi would
not have slapped him, but Marci is not Gandhi.
Now the boys are surging forward, each picking a
victim, but no one chooses me. Fingers fumble nervously
with unfamiliar closures. Soon five girls stand
blushing in their under things. The boys hesitate,
momentarily awed. Do they feel shame? Jason again takes
the lead. He kneels before Marci and slowly lowers her
panties, inch by inch. She bites her lip and looks at
the sky. The other boys crowd close, eyes burning. They
speak indecorously. They turn on the remaining girls.
Some boys tear at panties and bras, while others, like
Jason, prefer a slow delicious unveiling. In the end it
does not matter. When all the girls are naked the boys
line them up and walk around them in a circle,
comparing I guess, whispering to each other and
laughing. Then each boy picks up his victim's clothes
and goes to a locker. They undress. Pitched clothing
merges, panties entwine with boxers and briefs. When
the boys turn around, the girls gasp. The ten of them
enter the school.
The other two girls can't stand the tension of waiting
to be stripped. They go to the lockers, disrobe, and go
inside. I'm all alone with my sign and I know I can't
stay clothed long. More boys are coming up the walk all
the time. I spot a tall boy just as he sees the sign.
I don't know his name, but he's a senior on the swim
team. He's showing a sense of humor by coming dressed
in tighty-whities and nothing else. He has that nice
swimmer's build with broad shoulders and well defined
pecs, tight stomach, narrow waist, nice tan. As he
reads our lame sign he starts laughing, catches my eye,
winks. I'm laughing, too.
"I'm Bill."
"Cassie"
"Will you raise your arms to help me get it off?" His
hands are already on my blouse.
"Sorry, no, I'm going to stick with the plan."
"Then if I raise your arms, will you keep them up?" I
nod.
He brings them up and lifts off the blouse as gently as
if he were undressing a child. He reaches behind me and
with precise experienced hands unhooks my bra and draws
it off easily, like it's no big thing for him, and now
my breasts tumble out into the sun and there they are
for all the world to see. He looks at them with a
gentle smile, not staring, just enjoying himself, and
he looks in my eyes, too, but just for a second because
I lower mine. He steps away for a moment to put my
stuff in a locker.
But I need him back right away because coming up the
walk, strutting bare and swinging obscenely from side
to side, is that little snot Quentin Snow. Quentin is
this rotten freshman who likes to talk dirty to girls,
plus he has a mean streak. He thinks a girl will be
turned on if he asks her stuff like, does she
masturbate with one hand or two. And then he wonders
why no one will go out with him.
Yesterday he stood in front of my locker and asked me
my cup size. When I wouldn't tell him, he laughed and
held up his hands and said he was going to find out in
person on Nude Day. Now as Quentin approaches his eyes
are fixed on my chest. I'm glad I'm not bottomless yet.
Bill comes back just in time. I whisper in his ear.
"Quick, put your hands on my breasts."
Bill's delighted, but not grabby. He puts his palms
square on my nipples with his fingers spread lightly.
Quentin stops dead. I smile sweetly at him.
"Sorry, Quentin, but Bill is feeling me up right now.
Maybe later in the day you can catch me and get that
measurement." (When pigs fly!)
Quentin is intimidated by Bill's size. He mumbles
something unintelligible and disappears into the
school.
"Thank you! That little piece of trash has been after
me all semester. Bill, I need to ask a big favor."
"Sure, what?"
"I need you to stick with me all day to protect me from
that rodent, and from some of the others, too."
"No prob, but I'd need a couple of favors from you."
"Two?" I ask warily. I'm half naked, after all.
"I'm stuck in the down position and it's uncomfortable.
I need you to bring me up." He says this in a matter of
fact tone and in such good humor that I nod without
really understanding what he wants.
He has to show me. He takes my right hand in his left
and brings it around to the front of his briefs. With
his other hand he pulls out on the waistband. He gently
pushes me in an inch or so. I can feel soft hair. He
lets go and I take a deep breath and I slide my hand
down and I grasp him as easily as if it wasn't my first
time. I can feel the hard shaft. I close my hand around
it and give it a gentle rub as I draw it back up. I
slowly let the length of it glide through my fingers,
feeling the ridge below the head against my palm just
before I release it.
"Yes, that's much better." Once again he winks. We
burst into laughter. I know I have just passed some
sort of a test without even knowing I was being tested.
"And the other favor?" I ask nervously.
"Let's just call it a favor to be named later."
"Bill... I'm not ready...I mean I'm saving myself..."
"Yes, of course, that's OK. Now, where were we a few
minutes ago?"
Now his palms are against my nipples again, moving
gently in slow small circles while he smiles into my
eyes, not a dirty smile, just a happy one. Has he done
this with other girls, on other Nude Days? I really
don't have to allow anything like this under the rules,
but I don't say no.
I'm hardening in his hands and the harder they are the
more they poke out and the more they poke out the
better they feel and the harder they get. He's a bit
detached, a bit cool with his insolent touching. But I
know he's taking pleasure from my pleasure as I breathe
hoarsely through my mouth and cry out softly.
Now I'm lubricating and something inside me is doing
flip-flops. And I'm worried, knowing that Bill will be
removing my panties soon and they'll be damp. And he
will feel that and maybe even bring them up to his nose
and smell them or something way gross like that and
then when I'm all bare he'll look down there or maybe
he'll even touch me and find out just what kind of girl
I am. And I'm not that kind of girl. Or am I? All he is
doing is a little nipple rubbing, yet I'm as wet as a
horse at the end of a race.
Finally he takes his hands away. He unzips and removes
my skirt, laying it neatly on his arm so that both
hands are free to reach behind me and slide inside the
rear of my panties and lightly caress my bare fanny.
And he starts to bring his hands around in front but I
quaver out a "no" to keep him from feeling how wet I
am, but probably he thinks I'm just shy. Well, that
too.
He respects me. His hands go instead to my waistband
and as he slides my panties down he looks at me where
no boy has ever looked before, and for a moment his
face is so serious I think maybe I'm ugly or something.
If he notices moisture - and how could he not? - He's
too polite to mention it.
Finally he breaks into a glorious smile and I'm
relieved. I'm blushing terribly but at the same time I
have a crazy idea to do something daring. I start to
lower my hands but I chicken out so I just smile back.
The sun kisses my bare body as he carries away the last
of my clothes. I desperately want them back. His back
is to me as he peels off his briefs. His tight butt is
cute. Then he turns around.
Oh my, is he happy to see me!
In grade school I spent lots of time looking,
fascinated, at a picture of Michelangelo's David. The
sweet little harmless thing I saw there nestled like a
wren in a hairy nest intrigued but didn't threaten a
shy girl.
This is nothing like that. It is angry, demanding, and
scary. I assume the 'favor to be named' involves taming
this beast. And I'm quite inexperienced.
Fortunately the bell rings just then. Bill takes my
hand and we enter the school.
It isn't as bad as I feared, because we are all in the
same boat. I want to cover myself with my free hand,
but nobody else is doing it so I guess it's considered
unsportsmanlike. The upperclassmen are generally
practicing eye etiquette anyway, but not the first
timers. I see my friend May posing for a knot of
freshmen boys. She's standing in the hall with her
hands locked behind her neck, chest thrust out, slowly
rotating her torso.
Probably soon they'll ask her to do something really
gross and I hope she has the sense to say no. For that
matter, no girl even has to pose, but if you get asked
nicely by a friend it's hard to refuse. Satisfying
curiosity is a big part of Nude Day, and of course we
girls are curious, too. I'm sneaking in a few peeks
myself at the boys who bob by. I'm supposed to be
protesting the whole idea, but I have to admit that
seeing how May is affecting the boys clustered around
her excites me.
What would I do if they asked me? I'm getting some
pretty interested looks from some of them. I'll bet if
Bill wasn't holding my hand someone would ask me to be
naughty. I might even say yes.
My first class is English. Bill and I take adjoining
seats. He silently points out that the desk is covering
up my lower parts and makes a comically sad face, so I
flash him. Mrs. Dawkins starts out droning on about
British Lit, but we're too busy looking around to
listen. Then her mouth quirks up and she picks up a
book and starts reading to us. It's her little joke,
because it's "Lady Chatterley's Lover", by D.H.
Lawrence, and of course the whole class is nude.
We can hardly believe what she's reading, how exciting
it is, and yet how beautiful. After a while she puts
the book down and starts talking about something called
"personification of the penis". And I haven't passed a
note in years, but I get this wicked idea and I
scribble something and hand it to Bill. And he writes
something and hands it back.
WHAT'S ITS NAME?
DICK.
Which is pretty bad, but so bad it's funny. And then I
get a little bolder.
DOES DICK LIKE TO BE PETTED?
And back it comes.
SOMETIMES, AND SOMETIMES NOT. IT COMES IN SPURTS.
I have to put my head down on the desk. Bill can see my
shoulders shaking. I've liked him right from the first.
Now I realize I've underestimated him. He's funny, lots
of boys are, but how many can make jokes about their
own penis? That's really cool. I think about what it
must be like for him to be attending his very last day
of high school. Is he sad? Anxious to get on with the
rest of his life? And what does he want with me?
Probably he wants to do it, all boys do, but when I
told him I can't he didn't split. Does he think I'll
change my mind? What about that constant mysterious
smile? Is he really cool enough to enjoy just looking
at me without losing control? What did he get girls to
do with him on his other three Nude Days? Is he using
me? Because of his gentle ways, I feel safe with him.
But he must have a plan. I remember what I saw when he
first turned around from the lockers, and I shiver.
By lunchtime I'm pretty hungry. Bill and I sit
together, trying to ignore the girl spread out on a
table under the window. I feel sorry for her. She
doesn't have to do that to be popular. All next year
the boys will remember, remind her what she did, want a
repeat. After a while one of the teachers walks over
and disperses the boys and gets her up, but the damage
to her rep is done.
The best part of lunch is talking to Bill. I'm still
pretty shy, but he's being polite with his eyes. I am
trying in an indirect way to find out what his plans
are for me the rest of the day. And if he likes me.
"What does this day mean to you?" I ask
"A lot. Certain days you never forget. My first Nude
Day, my first driver's license, a special birthday...I
want my last day of high school to be a perfect day, a
day I will remember for the rest of my life."
"But isn't there a girlfriend, to, um...help make it
memorable?" I flick a look downward.
"Not at present. But if you'll go with me to the gym,
I'll call in that second favor and make this day
memorable for both of us."
I should have guessed. I knew about the gym being
partitioned off, but never thought about it in relation
to myself. It's mostly for upperclassmen. I am scared
but excited, too. I trust Bill, I owe him that favor,
and I nod.
The light bamboo screens do nothing to muffle sound, so
it's pretty obvious which cubicles are in use. We
finally find an empty one near the center of the gym.
The bare mattress lying on the floor inside is
shockingly unromantic. Beside it is a short stack of
disposable pads, a box of tissues, and a wastebasket
full of stuff I don't want to look at or even imagine.
I 'm already scared and half ready to leave, but I did
agree to come. And I'm in his arms.
He bends down to kiss me, drawing me to him with his
hands cupped on my bare rear, my breasts light against
his stomach, his penis teasingly hard against me. His
lips are soft and warm and again I feel his signature
gentleness. The kiss goes on and on, obviously Bill's
in no hurry, but I keep worrying about his next move.
Will he put his tongue in my mouth, will his hands
roam? Nothing happens and the tension builds. And then
suddenly his right leg gracefully slides between mine
and I can feel the muscles of his thigh pressing
against me and his hands on my fanny are pulling me
into him and now they are raising and lowering me
slightly, rubbing me against him. I groan softly. I
blush to think someone in the next cubicle might be
listening.
But then from that same cubicle there comes an odd
sound, a muffled bump-thump, repeated over and over in
increasing tempo. And a girl's inarticulate voice is
calling out, her cry at first a soft ah.....ah...ah,
with a gasp for breath in between, but then as the
thumping speeds up her cries fuse and rise in pitch in
a continuous ululation which ends abruptly in a
glorious full-throated howl of joyous release.
The gym has fallen silent. By the time her voice stills
everybody has been listening. There are a few coarse
male cheers of approval and a little clapping, followed
by shushing sounds from the girls. There is a brief
moment of silence. But the match has been lit. In
scattered cubicles hands fondle, mouths engage, bodies
intertwine, and throats rejoice in the unmistakable
sounds of lovemaking.
In a chain reaction, more couples, spurred on by the
passionate moans of their neighbors, join in, adding in
turn their cries to the din. The incendiary uproar
sweeps more and more before it. The entire gym is on
fire.
Bill's strong leg still presses against me but now he
is lifting me up and down faster. His lips are still on
mine. There are cries from every cell. Are we the only
couple not doing it? My judgment flees. I tear away
from him and I throw myself on my back on the mattress
and I open my legs.
"Do me."
I want to feel his body cover me. I want to feel him go
in all the way in a single thrust. But, even as wet as
I am, maybe that's not possible because it's my first
time. Maybe he'll have to ram it in, jam it in, and
cram it in, maybe it will hurt, no matter. I want him
bad, I want him hard, I want him swift, I want him now.
But he does not cover me. Instead, I feel his hands
briefly resting on my hips and now they are sliding
down and inward and he is opening me up, exposing my
last pink secrets, seeing what no boy has seen before,
touching me softly. I should be blushing but I'm way
beyond that.
And now he is bending down and his mouth is over my
clitoris, oh my, is he really, and yes he is, forming a
seal with his mouth against me with a little soft
suction, bringing it up against his tongue. And now it
is all soft and wet and warm, his tongue slides against
me, and my moans join with all the others. Soon soft
and wet aren't enough. I want it hard and fast and I
grab the back of his head and press him against me and
I buck against him. And then it gets even better.
Because now he slips his index finger inside me,
curling it just a bit and pressing against the wall and
I now I can feel his tongue on my clitoris and his
finger on its root, and I give one last orgasmic heave
and I come hard. And I can't help myself; my groan of
pleasure is so loud it stands out even in the uproar.
I fall back, totally relaxed, eyes closed. I've come
before, of course, in bed or under the shower. This is
indescribably better.
I feel so good I'd like to lie here forever, but now I
can feel Bill on his knees straddling my torso and I
open my eyes and I see Dick poking at my chin and I
know it's time. And I don't really know what I'm doing
but I take it in my hand by the root and I kiss all
around the tip until he gasps, and I take the tip in my
mouth and I run my tongue around it a couple of times
until I'm ready to take it in deeper, but it's too
late. I can feel the shaft spasm where I hold it, and
now he's spurting into my mouth.
He jerks out and pulls sharply downward, still
shooting, trying to save me embarrassment. I put my
hand down protectively so none of it goes lower than my
navel. Finally he stops and collapses beside me while I
search out the tissues with my other hand and start
mopping up. And then for a good long time we just lie
together wordlessly. We pretend we are both way too
cool to talk about what we just did.
Others want to use our cubicle; you can hear their
restless feet, God, were they listening to us? We get
up and change the pad. Bill apologises for the mess and
says we both could use a shower. The locker rooms are
unisex on Nude Day, so we go together.
Fortunately we are alone in what is usually the girl's
shower room. We take adjoining stalls and tend to
ourselves. I'm still feeling afterglow and my soapy
hands make me feel good. Bill turns off his spray and
so do I. He pops around the corner. I don't see how he
could still be interested but he's looking at me
frankly. After all we've been through I'm still shy and
without thinking I cover myself. He starts laughing.
"I see we need to make you decent."
He turns my shower on low and takes the soap in his
hands and works up a good lather. He plops a big blob
of soapy foam around each of my nipples. Solely in the
interest of scientific accuracy, I point out that
something pink and tight is still visibly pointing
through. Another application is required. Now I look
like one of those bubble bath ladies in an old movie.
The first blob between my legs is likewise
insufficient. We can see light brown hairs floating in
the foam around my partially visible slit. Another glop
completes the job. We admire it. We laugh at our
silliness. There is something particularly sexy about
the transience of soap bubbles. Bill isn't about to
wait for them to pop.
"I think I like you better the other way."
He turns on the shower full force and in a flash I'm
back to where I was, but now I'm not covering myself.
And he's pushing me back against the shower wall and
his smooth soapy fingers are sliding between my pussy
lips. I can't believe that I want this again so soon,
but I do. Bill obviously knows a lot, but this time his
fingers are just slightly off center. I guide him
upwards just a tad and then I'm flying. When I come
this time, it is softer and less urgent.
Now the shower is off and we are embracing, which is
good because I need help standing. After I recover a
bit I offer to towel him dry. It is pleasant to feel
his strong muscles under the towel. Soon there is only
one area left.
"May I?"
"Certainly."
I am curious. After he is dry I get real close to take
a good look. My face is only inches from the cute tiny
slit at the tip. I think from the little I know he must
be circumcised. I lift it up to see its underside and I
see his scrotum, stretched soft by the heat. I gently
hold his balls in the palm of my hand. I'd like to look
longer, but I don't want him to think I'm pervy or
something. By the time I'm done he's only a little bit
bigger.
"In case you're wondering, there's a latency period,"
he says.
I know that word from the sex study module in biology
class.
"How long?"
"Theoretically not too long, but overall I think I'm
done for the day."
I'm not sure if he's referring to his physical state or
if he's dismissing me. Maybe I didn't do it right.
Maybe he came so fast he feels cheated.
Now he begins to towel me off, leaving the best for
last. He is very assiduous. Not a single crevice is
left unblotted, yet moisture keeps welling up. When he
is done I still have trouble standing, so we go into
the locker room and sit down.
Crazy things are going through my head. Sex feels good
when you're doing it and afterward too. What if I did
it every day, would it still be as good? I thank him
until he's restless. I want him to hold me in his arms,
I want to smell his sweet skin, I want to be with him
forever, I want to tell him I love him. I say none of
this. But I must know one thing.
"When we were in the gym, I asked you to do it, I mean
I really wanted you to, but you didn't?"
"I didn't because you would have cried afterwards. And
that would have spoiled my perfect day."
I cry anyway. Bill is right, of course. He knew what my
body was telling me there in the gym, but understood
that I wasn't thinking straight... And he was kind
enough not to take advantage of me when I was
vulnerable. But when I look at his sweet smiling face I
think maybe I really am ready. Now that it's too late.
After awhile it seems there is nothing better to do
than go to our afternoon classes. What they are all
about I have no idea. We only have eyes for each other.
I have a sense of unease that by mid-afternoon becomes
acute. I still don't know his plans for the summer, and
I'm afraid to come right out and ask him if they
include me. Boys seem able to get their fun and move
on. Is it really possible I might never see him again?
I ache.
After the last class is over he still hasn't said
anything. We are walking past the school office towards
the main entrance. Nude Day is officially over, and we
are about to join the other students getting dressed
outside. Bill excuses himself to go to the men's room.
I'm desperate.
When he comes out, I am sitting on the bench outside
the office, filling out a form I just picked up.
"Cassie, wassup?"
"This is an application for an Exploratorium spot. The
next available opening is on Wednesday at noon. Can you
make it?"
"You know what this means?"
"Yes, very much."
Bill hesitates before speaking.
"When we were in the gym, it wasn't easy for me to
resist. I'm glad I did, and I told you why. But if we
go to the Ex, it's going to happen. We both know that.
I don't think we can make a good decision today. So
let's fill out the application, see each other over the
next few days, and decide then. If you change your
mind, we just don't show up at the Ex, no hard
feelings."
"Agreed." I giggle at the word 'hard'. His latency is
clearly over. I have no intention of changing my mind,
but it's sweet for him to give me the chance.
Outside, we dress each other tenderly. There are
certain indications he is thinking about Wednesday. I
grin as I make sure he is in the up position under his
tight white briefs. I pat him goodbye.
"Cassie, thank you. This has been a perfect day."
I am crying too much to answer. But on Wednesday, when
we have made love, and I lie in his arms, skin to skin,
flesh to flesh, bone to bone, I will say the same.
END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 37