I'm sure you've read Karen's story of her week naked in school. The only trouble with it is that she tells it as if she were the only one walking the halls and going to class with it all hanging out, so to speak. Well, let me tell you MY story.
As she explained at the beginning of her tale, there was to be one girl and one boy from each class, frosh, junior and senior, chosen each week to take part in the program. Well, that first week, I was the junior class boy. My name is Carl Walker, and, like Karen, I'm a junior. I know her, but not well - we're on different academic tracks, have different extracurriculars and move in different social circles, though I suppose our pictures will be side by side in the yearbook - Wagner, Walker?.
I know I'm seen as a bit of a nerd. I'm a geek, I admit it.. I'm on the fast track to college, probably physics. I'm five foot eleven, and still growing (I hope), on the skinny side, maybe 150 pounds, blond hair, blue eyes.
Anyway, at the same time Karen was called into the principal's office and made to strip, I was called into Miss Mitchell's office. She's the Assistant Principal, not someone that I'd had much to do with. Oh, I'd seen her around, said "Hi" to her a few times. She was very formal. It was always "Hello, Mr. Walker," from her, never "Hi, Carl," or just "Hi."
But it's a formal school. Respect is emphasized all the way around. Something to do with minimizing violence or something, but to all the teachers we are "Mr." this or "Miss" that, and they are "Mr." or "Mrs." or "Miss" so-and-so.
Believe it or not, there's even a dress code! No tube tops, no hot pants, no hats. They stopped short of the jacket and neck tie, at least. Now I was about to find out it was all ornothing!
She's wasn't bad looking, Miss Mitchell, kind of skinny, on the tall side. You couldn't tell a lot about her figure, `cause she usually wore a suit. You know, a skirt that came below her knees, a white blouse with a sort of fluffy bow tie and a jacket like a blazer. She wore her hair short and it had a touch of silver in with the gold, so I guess she was a natural blond.
She was kind of old, maybe fifty, I guess. Severe looking, if you know what I mean - gray eyes, pursed mouth. I remember once I saw her laughing, some joke from a teacher I guess, and it surprised me. She looked - nice. Some guys said she was a dyke, but I never believed `em, and from my dealings I'm even more sure now I'm right.
Anyway, like I say, I was called into her office at the same time Karen was called into the principal's, and I guess I was told pretty much the same thing Karen was, and given a brochure about it. You know, that a new program had begun, and I was chosen as the junior boy who would have to attend all classes in the nude for the week.
Oh, yeah, she said it had something to do with us learning to treat girls as something other than simply sex objects, to learn to harness our natural energies, to behave more maturely, to become comfortable with our bodies, blah, blah, blah. I was so shocked I was hardly listening.
Well, I mean, you could have fried an egg on my face! I mean, yeah, I'd heard stuff about some new program, rumors, but I hadn't believed half of what they were saying. And I thought I'd be the last person in the world they'd choose even if they were true. I mean, I was brought up to be modest. I was kind of shy, to tell you the truth, and hadn't dated much - well, at all, really.
But I'm not gay or sexless. Half the time I'm walking around with a woody, trying to peek down the blouses of the girls, or up their skirts, trying to imagine what their breasts looked like. Stuff like that. I've got some hot Web sites book marked on my computer, only my Mom doesn't know it, of course.
I hate to admit it, but at fifteen, almost sixteen, I was a virgin.
Anyway, there I am, holding that brochure with a photo of a naked girl and boy on the cover, and she's saying, "Strip, Mr. Walker, or I will have someone help you do it."
"Naked?" I asked stupidly.
"Naked." It was the same, no-nonsense tone she'd use when she caught someone horsing around in the hall, or when she took cigarettes away from some dork stupid enough to get caught with them. Mind you, I don't touch `em, and I don't drink, either. I guess I've got a reputation as a real straight arrow, and here I'm being told I was going to walk around school naked for a week! Shit!.
But, after taking a look at the two security officers smirking at me, I put down my stuff and began unbuttoning my shirt, LL Bean, of course, white, short sleeved oxford, button down collar and all. I emptied the pocket, wondering where I was going to keep my calculator, my pencils and stuff. (Don't even THINK it!)
When I got the shirt off one of the guards took it and I sat down to take off my shoes next, then my socks, trying to put off the inevitable as long as I could. All I had to do was think about being naked with a girl and, well, I rose to the occasion, if you know what I mean. Like, already I had a hardon that would punch a hole in concrete, for chrissakes!
"Pants," she ordered when I'd finished tucking my socks in my shoes. "You will be allowed shoes and socks, by the way."
Big deal! I thought. Standing up again, I fumbled with my belt, got it open, undid the button, ran my zipper down. I was scarlet from head to toe as I bent to slide my jeans down, trying not to look at her, trying to hide the hardon trying to crawl through the fly of my jockeys. The guard took my jeans and put them in a box with my shirt.
Then it was my underpants. I turned my back on her, but it wasn't much help, giving her a good look at my butt as I skinned them down, facing the guy who'd already taken my shirt and jeans. I straightened, my dick sticking out like the bowsprit of some friggin' sailing ship or something, bobbing up and down heavily.
"You can put your shoes and socks on, if you'd like."
I burned red. "Oh, yeah, thanks." I had to sit down in full view of her, my dick sticking up from my lap like a flagpole. It was even drooling a bit of pre-cum!
Somehow I did manage to get my socks and shoes on. I quick got up and turned toward the door, wanting to get away from her so much I wasn't even thinking of what was probably waiting outside the door.
"Don't forget your books, and the pamphlet, and find the time to familiarize yourself with it" Miss Mitchell reminded me as I reached for the door. "And your pencil and pen and calculator."
"Oh, uhm, yes'm, Miss Mitchell." I sort of sidled toward her, trying to hide my dick from her, but it didn't really work. I saw her eyes flick down to my cock, and for just a moment I thought I saw her lips twitch and maybe there was a gleam of interest in her eyes? I fumbled and dropped stuff, finally getting it all corralled. Holding it front of my crotch didn't do much good, since my dick stuck out like an iron bar.
"Remember the rules, Mr. Walker," she reminded me. "Three five minute bathroom breaks, you use the girl's locker room for gym, and you are to remain nude through all extra-curricular activities as well, save those where you are required to wear protection, such as certain sports, in which case only the necessary protection is to be worn. Oh, and one other thing."
"Yes'm?" I had my hand on the doorknob, ashamed even to look in her direction, at the same time dreading what I was going to face outside the office.
"In view of the adolescent male libido - you do know what `libido' means, don't you, Mr. Walker?"
"Uh, yeah," I admitted. "I think so. Sex drive, right?" I risked looking at her.
There was the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. "Close enough. Anyway, I believe you'll find, if you haven't already, that a prolonged period of sexual arousal without relief results in what I believe is called a case of blue balls. Do you know what I'm talking about?"
I nodded numbly.
"In view of your condition," her gesture took in my throbbing hardon, "the rules allow for you to ask for relief at the beginning of each class period. You'll be permitted to masturbate, or even seek assistance in relieving your sexual tension. But it can only be done in full view of the class, and only in the first five minutes of the class period."
"In front of the whole class?" For the first time in two years my voice cracked.
"That's the rule, Mr. Walker. In front of the class. The teachers have, of course, received a full briefing on this program, so they will not be surprised. In fact, I suspect they will be expecting the request," she concluded. "It's all in the brochure, Mr. Walker. Please take the time to familiarize yourself with the rules. No clothes, no backpack, even, nothing to conceal your body from your fellow students. You can't even use your hands -not that they would do much good as long as you have that erection. And you must cooperate with any reasonable requests your teachers or fellow students may make of you during the week."
I gulped. "This is n...."
"These are the rules, Mr. Walker. Try to conduct yourself with dignity and a good nature and I think you may even learn to enjoy the situation. You'll find your clothes outside the south entrance at the end of the day, and please use that entrance all this week both coming and going. There is a box in which to deposit your clothes before you enter the building. Now you'd best hurry to your first class."
Just as I reached for the doorknob I heard some cheering and commotion out in the hallway, and froze, my dick actually wilting.
"Ah, I suspect the other chosen ones have probably emerged. On your way now, Mr. Walker. And try to enjoy yourself. Your clothes will be waiting you outside the school at the end of the day."
So I opened the door and stepped out, into a wall of sound, girls shrieking, boys applauding as I turned scarlet. Perversely, my dick shot back to attention, looking like a torpedo seeking a target. I tried to like, be casual, thinking of how Michelangelo's statue of David looked, but it didn't really work. I mean, shit, he wasn't circumcised (I am) and he didn't have a hardon like a baseball bat!
Then the bell rang and I had to hurry to make it to physics, my first class. As I pushed through the throng, I felt more than a few touches on my bare butt, and someone, I don't even know if it was a boy or a girl, even grabbed a quick feel of my throbbing dork. It was a good thing they didn't stroke me or they would probably have wound up with a handful of cum!
"Ah, Mr. Walker, it's good to see you so - uhm - alert this morning," Mr. Cranover greeted me cheerily as I walked in to a wave of titters and chuckles. Mercifully, there weren't too many girls in the class. Some of the guys looked embarrassed by my state and some gave me sympathetic smiles.
"G'morning," I mumbled, heading for my seat and the safe concealment of my desk.
"You look a little tense this morning, Mr. Walker," Mr. Cranover observed.
"I'm okay," I assured him, a bit testily, I admit. I slid awkwardly into my seat. It was cold on my fanny, and my dick stuck up from my lap, resting against the desk itself.
"Just remember the rules, Mr. Walker," he reminded me. "Now, let's go on with our discussion of Newton's laws of motion."
Maybe he was being kind, but at least he didn't call on me the whole period. By the time we were halfway through class, though, I was feeling twinges that had me worried. Shit, I'd been hard for half an hour. If I didn't get some relief I was going to be bent over like a croquet hoop.
For a moment I thought of jacking off behind the concealment of my desk, rules be dammed. Then I saw Lori, a cute blond cheerleader -- bright, too -- next to me, looking sideways at me, licking her lips, and realized, as I stiffened even more, that I'd never get away with it. Like, there was no room, and my cock was actually leaning up against the desk itself, drooling, no less! If I came it'd look like Old Faceful with my cum shooting straight up into the air! As it was, every time I took a breath the underside of my dick rubbed up and down, up and down, against the desk, only serving to keep me rigid as a flagpole.
I was in trouble. Surreptitiously, I checked the brochure I'd been given, quickly reading the part about relieving my tension. It was quite explicit about having to do it during the first five minutes of a class, and in front of the class.
I thought I'd get a chance between classes to duck into the john and take care of my problem, but sure enough, one of the security people just happened to be outside the door to escort me to my next class.
"I need to go to the john," I said.
"I'll go with you," he assured me politely.
I thought of trying to pee through the hardon I was carrying. "Never mind." I tried to ignore his smirk as I waddled down the hall, kind of bow legged, trying to keep from jostling my aching balls.
Oh Jeeze! French with Mademoiselle Duclos was next! I'd had a hardon for her since the first day. She was maybe thirty, wore tight sweaters and short skirts, had short black hair and bright blue eyes, lips designed to be kissed, or maybe wrapped around a cock. Half the guys in class, and maybe some of the girls, too, had a crush on her.
But I also knew that if I didn't do something soon, I'd be crawling through the rest of the day.
Shit!
"Ah, bon jour, Monsieur Walker," she greeted me cheerily as I entered the room. "I am so `appy to see you this morning. And you are `appy to see me, non?"
I thought I saw the tip of her tongue touch her upper lip as she looked right at my dick. Damned if I didn't get even harder right there in the doorway. Oh God, I wanted to curl up and die, because I knew what I was going to have to do if I was going to survive the next five minutes.
"Bon jour, Mademoiselle Duclos," I greeted her, fidgeting nervously rather than going to my desk.
"You per'aps `ave a leetle problem, Monsieur Walker? Or, maybe it is not so leetle a problem?" She pushed some papers around on her desk, and I saw she had a copy of the same pamphlet I'd been given by Miss Mitchell, and it was open to the page covering the - ah - relief clause.
So, I find myself, stark naked, facing the class, my dick standing out hard and strong. Now, you remember that dream you have some times, where you're naked in school? Well, this was no dream. And there were some foxy girls in that class. And in the third row, there was Beth, who I'd taken to the movies only last Saturday as our first ever date, and then I'd shuffled and stammered as we stood at her door, and then she went in and I hadn't even asked her for a kiss.
I started to cramp and winced. Flaming red, I moved to the front of the room and put my stuff on the teacher's desk. I couldn't bear to look at anyone, fidgeting nervously.
"Time is passing, Monsieur Walker," Mademoiselle Duclos reminded me, shoving a box of tissues in my direction. "I anticipated this problem and prepared the class should you need relief, so they know what to expect."
They knew, all right. They were practically panting to watch me do my thing. I wanted to crawl in a hole and die.
Instead I gave in to the inevitable, wrapped my hand around my dick and pumped it a couple of times, and it felt so good! My balls tightened up and I looked at Beth, and her glasses were practically fogging up as she studied my dick. Then she looked into my eyes, and licked her lips, and I went off like a cannon. I barely got the tissues up in time to catch the thick, hot spurts of cum. I mean, I saw stars, and my knees went weak and my toes curled. I kept cumming and cumming, until it felt like my balls were wringing themselves dry. Finally I sagged wearily and managed to suck in some air, which smelled of my cum.
"Very good, Monsieur Walker!" Mademoiselle Duclos said, applauding, and the whole class burst into applause and whistles and cheering while I was still trying to get my breath back. "No, no, do not go to your seat. Stay here for a few moments, if you please."
I was barely able to move anyway.
"Now, class, with Monsieur Walker's assistance, we shall go over some of the slang anatomical terms in French."
I blushed more than ever as she drew me out from behind her desk, her hand hot on my bare arm. Reaching between my legs, she gently lifted and fondled my still tender balls, my cock rising like the Phoenix from the ashes, still drooling from its last eruption.
"Ze formal term for one of these is `testicule,' The slang is, however, is `couilles.'" She explained. "The word for penis is `bitte,' which is literally `bollard,' which means, how would you say it, `a post,' like you might tie a ship to?" she continued, spelling out each word on the white board after touching, on me, what she was talking about!
"Monsieur Walker entered the room with `un bander,' meaning to have a `ard-on. `e could, in fact `ave been said to have been `bander comme un cerf' which means `hard as a deer' or `comme un tigre,' like a tiger." Grinning at me, she growled deep in her throat, stroking the underside of my quickly stiffening dick.
"And ze term for the manipulation he so kindly, and productively demonstrated for us is `branlage' or sometimes `branlette.'
She caught a gob of post cum drooling off my cock and theatrically sucked it off her finger. "And, I am happy to say, Monsieur Walker's `foutre,' as it is called, is quite delicious."
I was hard as stone again.
It was going to be a very long day, and a longer week!
Somehow I survived French. As I walked to calculus I tried to ignore the stares, the giggles, the snickers. One little freshman girl rounded the corner and stopped dead in her tracks, her jaw dropping as she stared at me - or, more accurately, my raging hardon. I managed a weak smile and casual wave as I passed her.
"Hi, Karl," someone said, appearing by my side.
Uh, hi, Beth," I stammered, suddenly more conscious than ever of my nakedness, my hardon.
"Do you mind if I walk with you?" she asked timidly.
"I guess not," I answered. "I'm - uh - supposed to be agreeable and - uh - do what people ask me to do."
"Oh. Wow, really? Anything?"
I blushed. "I guess so. But, I'd rather you didn't ask me to do anything weird, if you understand what I mean. And anyway, I'm glad you're willing to walk with me. I was getting kinda lonely." Jeez, why can't I just say I like her company? Why'd I have to add that last?!
"Okay," she agreed. "I'll just walk with you."
She was carrying her books the way girls do, in front of her, hugging them to her chest. It sort of crinkled her blouse a little and I tried to sneak a peak down at her chest, then felt stupid about it. I liked Beth, a lot, and not just because she was willing to go to the movies with me.
She wasn't real pretty, I mean like cheerleader pretty. She was cute, though, kind of small, shy and she dressed conservatively. She had cute dimples, brown eyes and hair, that she pulled back in a pony tail, and not much in the way of tits, maybe less than a handful, if I was ever that lucky. She wore glasses, but then, so did I. And she was smart - on the same track I was, in fact, but she was taking chemistry this year instead of physics. She'd aced advanced biology and was thinking of going pre-med in college.
"I enjoyed the movie Saturday," she said.
"Me, too."
"It was a fun date."
"I had a good time." I was sweating nervously, wondering if I should ask her for another date right then. But it felt so weird, walking down the hallway naked with her and everyone else dressed. "I'd like to do it again."
"Would you?!" She sounded really happy about that.
"Yeah!" My spirits rose. "But - uh - I'm not sure about this week. It's gonna be kind of a strange week, I think."
She giggled. "I guess so! That's okay, I understand. We can just wait and see how things turn out."
We arrived at math class together and she turned toward her desk near the front, while I headed to where I sat, in the third row.
There was quite a stir, of course, when I walked in naked like that, my hardon leading the way. I saw someone whisper something to Beth and I saw the tips of her ears turn pink and I wanted to slug them.
"Good morning, Mr. Walker," Miss Gallison, the teacher greeted me.
"Good morning, Miss Gallison," I managed dutifully, mentally reviewing how many of my teachers were women. Too many! I was trying to wedge myself, and my hardon, into my desk.
"Don't bother to sit down, Mr. Walker. In view of your - uhm -state, I suspect it will be hard to keep anyone's attention on the whiteboard this morning. Why don't you come up here and we'll do a little applied calculus."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Come come, Mr. Walker, you are supposed to comply with any reasonable requests, are you not?"
"Uh, yes'm," I agreed. I mumbled a word best left unsaid. Miss Gallison, it was well known, was a lesbian and a strong feminist. I did not want her anywhere near my family jewels!
"What was that, Mr. Walker?"
"Nothing, Miss Gallison," I assured her. "I just bumped something."
"I see," she responded skeptically. "Now, class, we'll use Mr. Walker, here, for a few exercises in applied calculus. Can anyone suggest a way in which we might do that?"
There was the usual long silence. No one ever wanted to be first to volunteer in Miss Gallison's class, even though we had some really bright math students in it. She could be pretty intimidating.
Finally, to no one's surprise but mine, Beth raised her hand. "Well, we use calculus to compute the volume of geometric solids, don't we?"
I rolled my eyes heavenward, cursing her inability to put up with the silence until someone else volunteered. But then, I thought, maybe it was better her than someone like Bob Freschetti, the closest thing to an intelligent football player the school had ever had, and who, for reasons I'd never been able to fathom, seemed to hate me.
"And which solids were you thinking of?" Miss Gallison asked.
"How about his cock?" Freschetti called out from the back of the room, triggering a wave of snickers.
Miss Gallison shot him a sharp look but only said, "Yes, that is a possibility, though you'll note it is not exactly a regular geometric solid. So, how should we approach this problem?"
"Carefully, very carefully," Freschetti wisecracked.
"That will do, Mr. Freschetti!" Miss Gallison snapped back.
Beth's hand was up again. "We could do approximations, using some assumptions," she pointed out. "The shaft of it is approximately cylindrical, I'd say."
Miss Gallison gripped my dick between forefinger and thumb, turning it this way and that, and all I could do was look at Beth in desperation, wondering what she was trying to do to me. She dimpled, trying to look demure and reassuring somehow.
"Yes, that would be a possibility. How might we describe the head of his penis, geometrically?"
"Uhm, a parabolic solid?" one of the other girls ventured.
"Very good, Miss Baker."
To my relief, Miss Gallison released my cock leaving it to bob heavily as she went to the white board and began writing.
So, while I stood there they created a set of problems based on my aching hardon and I flushed under their stares. Miss Gallison used a tape measure on my dick, getting length and circumference numbers. Then Freschetti made the mistake of muttering something to his buddies in the back row that triggered a guffaw from one of them.
"What was that, Mr. Freschetti?" Miss Gallison asked sharply. "I'm sure you'd like to share that with the rest of the class."
Snot that he was, he did. "I only said, it looks to me like we're dealing with some pretty small values there."
That brought a wave of laughter from everyone, except Beth, who looked unhappy she'd started the whole thing.
"I believe a comparison might be in order," Miss Gallison responded tartly. "Please come up here, Mr. Freschetti, so we can have another example."
"What?!"
Miss Gallison brandished that brochure that spelled out my fate for the week. "Come, come, Mr. Freschetti. The program permits me to summon other students to participate in the program on an ad hoc basis. I want to remind you, it is either that, or you risk suspension from next Saturday's game for insubordination."
Muttering curses, scratching his black, curly hair nervously, Freschetti made his way to the front of the room, turning scarlet. He was a hulk. He probably out-weighed me by a hundred pounds. He was at least 6' 2" and 250. If he was built proportionally, I'd be dwarfed in that department, too. I'd seen him in the locker room, but I was always kind of shy about staring at other guys, afraid they might think I was gay or something, I guess, so I had no idea what his equipment was like.
"Strip," Miss Gallison ordered him curtly.
Freschetti's shirt came off and he made a self-conscious show of flexing his pecs, grinning at the girls as he did. He was very hairy. Mister testosterone!
"Don't dawdle, Mr. Freschetti," the teacher ordered. She'd been leaning on him all term, and I knew she was frustrated by his attitude. He was bright, but certain his future lay on the gridiron, so he did only enough to get by in the class. His macho attitude didn't endear him to her any, either. "Don't bother with your shoes, just drop your trousers and underpants. We wouldn't want class time to run out before completing this."
The belt was unfastened and he shoved his jeans down, then hesitated. I tried not to get caught looking, but the bulge in his shorts didn't look all that impressive.
"All the way." Miss Gallison was at her most implacable. "Before I count three."
Turning scarlet from his gut outward, Freschetti shoved his boxers down and cupped his hands over his groin. Miss Gallison rapped his knuckles with a ruler and he reluctantly exposed himself.
There was a hushed silence in the room, as if they were all holding their breath. I risked a glance down and almost goggled. This big, hairy, macho brute had a dork that wasn't even half as long as mine. I even wondered, for a moment, if it was hard, then saw it seep a big drop of pre-cum. He was as hard as he was ever going to get, I suspected.
Just then the class bell rang, releasing us all from a state somewhat resembling paralysis. Freschetti, still scarlet, reached for his pants and yanked them up as the rest of the class gathered books and stuff. Beth looked like she was about to burst, her lips pursed, her dimples dancing the way they did when she was trying not to laugh, and we shared a wink, both of us pleased with how things had turned out, obviously.
"Tomorrow we will continue with the exercise," Miss Gallison called over the din. "Bring in your proposed solutions to the two problems we've established - volume of an irregular cylinder and volume of a parabolic solid of rotation. Thank you for your participation, Mr. Walker."
The rest of the day went pretty well, I thought. Lunch I was surrounded by some good buddies who didn't hassle me, though they were curious. I admitted that it was really embarrassing to walk around naked, and that the seats were cold!.
Gym was an experience. We did some gymnastics type stuff. The rope climb was particularly interesting, because when I was about 13 I'd found a way to get myself off climbing the rope, rubbing against it. By the time I reached the top with my legs wrapped around it my cum was staining my shorts.
So, of course, I got ragged for wetting my pants.
Doing it nude was another experience though. I had to be careful to avoid rope burns, and sometimes my pubic hair got caught in the rope and pulled painfully.
Then there was showering with the girls. Some of them, generally ones that were kind of chubby or real skinny, had trouble with me being there and wrapped themselves in their towels. Some of them tried to ignore me, while others stared, and a few blushed furiously and turned away. All I could do was blush.
One cheerleader strolled past me nude, towel over her shoulder, tits jiggling, with a wiggle that had my already hard cock throbbing. Thanks to her I had to jack off again, in Civics class. This time a couple of the frosh girls in the class went "EEEWwwwwww" when they saw my cum shooting out. That led to a discussion of what this whole program was about - how it was seen as a way of ending sexual exploitation in all forms. By becoming more comfortable with our bodies and sexuality it would diminish sexual tensions and decrease sexual abuse.
My last class was Creative Writing - Mom's idea - with Mr. Turner. As it turned out (no pun intended), I was glad to be taking it. Mr. Turner was a great teacher, and he suggested that I write up this journal. After three good workouts my balls were dry, so I didn't need "relief" yet again, at least.
It was a huge relief to get my clothes on at the end of the day, though I had to do that outside. The girls dressed outside the north entrance, so I didn't see Karen or the others, which was too bad, because she's cute and I wondered what she looked like naked. Maybe I'd get to see her tomorrow, I thought, as I pedaled my bike home.
The house was empty, of course, with Mom at work, and Sis, my sister Diane, better known as Dee, doing whatever it is she does after school on Mondays. Our parents split a few years back, and Mom's had to work really hard, being a single Mom and all. Dad tries to help, but he got transferred out of town, and then laid off, so the support payments have been deferred.
Up in my room I dumped my books on my desk and flopped on my back on the bed, staring up at the Star Wars poster of Princess Leia that I'd stuck there, the one where she's in her Jabba the Hut slave outfit. I'd wanked off to Carrie Fisher more than once. I wondered what her sex life was like. I knew she'd been married to Paul Simon or someone like that, and had messed herself up with drugs. I'd always felt bad about that.
As I thought back over the day, I realized that while it was really embarrassing, it was exciting, too. I'd never thought much about my body, not the way some guys do, the jocks that are always pumping iron. Getting off my bed, I stripped naked, and ventured out in the hallway a bit nervously, even though I was the only one home.
Standing in front of the full length mirror in the bathroom, I studied my reflection. I've got blond hair and blue eyes, and never have liked my face much - not enough chin, I thought. I'm slender, but my shoulders are broad. Swimming builds good muscles, and my stomach was nice and flat, though I don't have a real six-pack the way the jocks do.
Not much hair, except for a bit of a bush around the base of my cock - reddish blond, and curly of course. After three jack-offs that day, my dick was limp, drooped down over my balls. Nice legs. Again, swimming makes a difference. I was on the team, but it was a winter sport. Unlike the super swimmers, I never got into the shaving bit, so my legs were kind of hairy, but since it was blond it wasn't too gross.
On the whole, it wasn't bad, I guess. I struck a few poses, flexing, and then I heard the door downstairs bang. Shit! Sis was home!
She's only 11, in sixth grade and can be a bit of a pain, but she's a good kid. I sure as hell didn't want her seeing me like this, though! We're a pretty conservative family. I don't think I'd seen her naked in over ten years, and as far as I knew she'd never seen me naked.
As usual she was tromping up the stairs in her latest footwear, clogs I think they were, sounding like a storm trooper. I ducked out of the bathroom and dashed for my room, barely making it and closing the door behind me before she reached the top of the stairs.
"Hi, Bro!" she called as I was fumbling to get dressed again. She rattled the doorknob and I grabbed the first things handy, a pair of loose gym shorts and a tee shirt and yanked them on, not bothering with my underpants.
"Hi!" I greeted her when she stuck her head in.
"Whatcha doing?"
"I'm - uh - gonna be practicing my music," I answered, pulling out my trombone. I'm in the marching band.
"Yuck!" She slammed my door and I heard her door bang shut and knew she'd be going for her CD player and earphones.
I wondered how long it would be before she heard about me cruising the halls naked. News got through the school system pretty fast, even though she wasn't even in middle school yet.
Then I remembered. Marching band. Shit!
Would I be marching up and down the field naked? I quick checked the brochure. Oh shit! It was right there, in black and white. I had to participate in any extracurricular activities in the nude all week. That meant during band practice on Tuesday and Friday, but maybe not the half-time show. The game was on Saturday, so maybe they'd let me wear a uniform for that?
I blew a mournful blat on my trombone, then settled down to warm up, trying to forget my troubles in the music.
Sis and I had dinner cooking by the time Mom got home. As usual, she went up to her room and changed out of her work clothes into something more comfortable. Since it was warm she went with a tee shirt and shorts. The day had made me more body conscious and I studied her secretly as I set the table. She's blond, and still pretty shapely after two kids. She's thirty six - years old, that is - and pretty trim for someone her age.
"So anything interesting happen at school today?" she asked as we sat down to dinner.
"Nothin' special," I mumbled. How can you tell your Mom you've been running around school naked all day? No way, Jose!
"Missy got her period," Sis announced. Missy was her best friend.
"I don't think we really need to hear that at dinner!" Mom chided.
I hunkered down and concentrated on eating, shooting glances at Sis. She was wearing kind of a tight tee shirt, and I could see she was getting tits. She's blond, too, and cute, with dimples like Beth's. Mom didn't let her date yet, but she could go out with her friends to the mall and movies and stuff.
After dinner I used the excuse of homework to retreat to my room, it being Sis's turn with the dishes. I was trying to concentrate on math, without much success, since I was trying to compute the volume of my own cock, when there was a soft tap on my door. "Come in," I called.
"Hi." It was Mom, unusually shy. She and I get along pretty well, really. I grumble at chores sometimes, but we work it out. I do try to understand how hard the divorce has been on her. "Can I come in?"
"Sure." Flipping over the papers with a diagram of my dick on them, I swiveled my desk chair around as she paced nervously, picking up a pair of dirty socks and fiddling with them, before closing the door.
That was something new. I tensed.
"I - are you sure nothing special happened at school today?" she asked nervously.
"Like what?"
"Oh, I don't know.... I don't want to intrude, you know that. But if there's something you'd like to talk about...."
I'm not dumb. I suspected she knew, though how she'd know I couldn't figure out, unless.... "You mean, something like was I walking around the school naked but for my shoes and socks?"
She turned pink, looked down at the socks she was twisting in her hands and nodded.
"You knew?! Why didn't you warn me?!"
"I didn't know. Not for sure. And if I had warned you, would you have gone to school today?"
I thought this over. "Probably not. But how did you know?"
"I didn't know for sure you'd be chosen," she explained nervously. "But - I did sign you up for it."
"You WHAT?! Mom, how COULD you?!"
"Sshh. Keep your voice down!" she cautioned. Then she held a finger to her lips, tip toed to the door and jerked it open. Sis almost fell into the room.
"I was just...," Sis stammered, blushing furiously. One of her less charming traits was a habit of eavesdropping.
"Take these and put them in the hamper," Mom ordered firmly. "And then get to your homework, young lady."
"But I want to hear about...."
"This is not for your ears, young lady. Now scoot!" Mom emphasized the point by giving Sis an affectionate swat on the butt that sent her on her way. "And close your door. I'll talk with you in a minute."
"Gee whiz." Sis stomped off, and Mom watched until I heard my sister's door close, presumably behind her.
Mom didn't close the door all the way this time. She paced. "Please, hear me out. I signed you up for it. I did it for you."
I admit it, I was more than a bit pissed. I sulked.
"You know how hard it is for me to talk about -- about sex," she stammered. "And, well, you seem kind of inhibited."
I didn't say a word, not wanting to admit she was right.
"I mean, you don't date much, and, well ... it just seemed to me that this was a good program for you. I -- do you understand? I heard about the program, and its goals and it just seemed the right thing, to give you a more healthy knowledge of the differences between men and women, and sexuality, and....." Her voice trailed off.
I was twisting a pencil between my fingers, thinking this over. Reluctantly, I nodded, because I knew she was right. I was inhibited. I didn't date, unless the movie with Beth counted. Women were a mystery to me, and sex was, well, not something I was comfortable talking about. For example, I knew some guys in school that used to get together for a circle jerk, but it wasn't anything I'd ever done.
Now I'd jerked off in front of the whole class - three times in one day!
I tossed the pencil over my shoulder, heard it clatter off the computer monitor and rattle on the blotter. "Yeah," I admitted unhappily. "I understand."
"Would you like to talk about it at all?" she ventured cautiously.
"What's to talk about. I took off all my clothes and went to class," I answered.
"Was it embarrassing?" she probed. "I'm sorry, but part of the program is for me, too. I'm supposed to talk about it with you, for both of us."
"Of course it was!"
"Did you - get aroused?" she asked.
I had the feeling she was working her way down an interview that she'd memorized or something.
"Yeah," I admitted.
"You got an erection."
"I got a hardon like an iron bar," I grumped, feeling self-conscious as I felt my dick stiffening just from the memory of it. I shifted nervously in my chair.
"Did you - uh - get relief, somehow? Otherwise, I hear, you might be pretty uncomfortable."
"I jerked off in front of three classes, is that what you want to know?"
I looked up at her. She licked her lips nervously. She was flushed. "Uh, yes. Uhm, do you have any questions I might be able to answer?"
"Like about sex?"
She flushed brighter. "Or about the program."
"Uh, well, I'm wondering where it goes from here. I mean, do I have to do more than walk around school naked?"
"And respond to your teachers' and schoolmates' requests, you mean."
"Uh, yeah, that, too," I agreed, thinking I was glad I didn't take biology this term.
"Well, it really depends you," she answered warily. "You know, for example, you can ask for help when you ... masturbate."
"Jeez! I couldn't do that! It's hard enough to just do it myself with everyone watching!"
"Well, if that's the way you feel about it, that's all right," she assured me. "But, like, if you know a girl that might want to help - or even a teacher, you can ask, you know."
I thought this over. I thought of asking Beth to jack me off and my cock lurched upwards in my pants, making me squirm uncomfortably. I saw Mom glance at my lap and tried to cross my legs to hide the bulge. The head of my dick was threatening to poke out through the leg hole of my gym shorts!
"And you don't have to confine it just to school," she added. "They've changed the laws about indecent exposure, exempting boys under the age of twenty one from them."
"I didn't know that! You mean I could go naked on the streets, if I wanted to?!"
She nodded. "It's in the brochure they gave you. There are going to be a lot of changes as the program advances and more students have taken part in it," Mom went on.
"What about if I want to go around naked at home?" I knew I was testing the limits.
"Uh, well, uhm, I - well, according to the brochure, the idea is to promote openness, and it says I should - uh - encourage you in every environment."
"But what about Sis?"
"I'll talk to your sister and explain what is going on, prepare her for it. If you think you might want to do it, that is. They're going to include middle school in the program next year, so she'll be eligible to take part in it then."
I thought this over. Walking around naked at home wasn't exactly a new thing for me. When I'd been about thirteen I'd done it a few times, when everyone was out, of course. It had been fun -exciting. I'd had a hardon, of course, and I'd jerked off. I'd even wandered out in the back yard, thrilled at the thought that someone might see me, terrified and excited all at once.
"Uh - well, maybe. You'd better talk to Sis about it anyway, because she's sure to hear about it from someone at school tomorrow. Missy's brother is in one of my classes, and I think the sister of another of her friends is in my Civics class. That was one of the classes I jerked off in," I admitted.
"All right, I will," Mom agreed, getting to her feet, looking relieved and a little tense at the same time. "But for tonight, I think it would be better if you didn't - ah - let it all hang out, if you know what I mean. Give me time to get her accustomed to the idea."
"Okay." It made sense, but I couldn't help wondering about Mom. There was something almost like eagerness in her expression as she headed for the door. "Leave the door open, it's okay," I assured her as she went out.
I heard her knock on Sis's door, heard it close behind her. A few moments later there was a shriek out of Sis that practically shattered my computer monitor. Then there was silence and I fought the urge to go and listen at Sis's door the way she had at mine.
Curiouser and curiouser, as Alice said in Wonderland. It was going to be a really weird week. I picked up the brochure about the program and dug into it more. I didn't have to do any of these other things, according to the rules. But I could if I wanted to. And somehow I knew I'd probably want to.
I thought again of Beth doing me, and scratched at my rigid dick through my shorts. I wonder if she'd be willing to do it.
Nah. Not a chance. She was more shy than I am. Besides, we hadn't even kissed on our date, after all.