We walked out of the lunchroom, headed to Bio. Before we even got ten feet, we were stopped, by a kid we didn’t know. Apparently, when the news about the events of the morning had spread, a bunch of kids put together a petition campaign to save The Program. The kid we ran into outside the lunchroom recognized us, and said, "I know that you two want to sign this!" We did, of course. The kid told us that they had close to half the school signed, and in only a couple of hours.

So, then we walked to Bio. With that writing on my thighs. Oh my. I can’t describe how naughty and wanton and slutty that made me feel! And it felt great! And it worked, actually—every guy that went for a grope saw my little message, chucked, and then was very gentle. Probably too gentle—all that light stroking was actually getting to me more than a more direct approach might have. Instead of going for the ol’ finger-thrust, they were running their fingers up and down gently. By the time we got to Bio I was panting.

However, we approached Bio with a bit of trepidation. Ms. T had, after all, been in the office with Mr. Tilling for my tirade—and she had also, apparently, agreed with Mr. Tilling about shutting The Program down in the first place. My trepidation wasn’t eased by walking into the classroom and seeing Mr. Tilling there. Or by seeing the two chairs in the front of the class--of course, Ms. T waved Jared and I into them.

The class settled down, and Ms T started. "We have a lot to talk about in class. Please say hello to Mr. Tilling again, he’s going to be helping us out today."

"Don’t worry, we hope this will be productive and we can get some things out in the open," Mr. Tilling started. "Amanda, don’t worry about this morning….uh, Amanda, is there something in your lap?"

Uh-oh. I was sitting so you couldn’t see much—especially from the back of the room, where Mr. Tilling was—but you could see something. "Uh, don’t worry about it, Mr. Tilling."

"What is that?" he asked.

"Tell her to stand up, you’ll find out!" Maggie blurted. Oh, I was going to kill that girl!

"Well, Miss Frazier?" Mr. Tilling said. What could I do? I stood up. Everyone in the class that hadn’t seen the writing yet cracked up. Ever Mr. Tilling was suppressing a smile. Ms T didn’t even suppress it—she just giggled.

"A little message for all my between-class gropers," I said, blushing.

"Is it working?" Ms T asked.

"Actually, yes," I laughed. "Unfortunately, I have gym next and this is washable marker, so off in the shower it comes."

"Boy, Amanda, you really have changed," Mr. Tilling said.

"And that’s what we’re going to be talking about today," Ms. T said. "Changes. How we deal with them. How other people deal with our changes. This is important to talk about today."

"You all know what happened to Irene Ying this morning."

"Yeah, and we know who saved her ass, too!" Maggie yelled, to the whoops of the rest of the class. Jared just got that embarrassed look and waved them quiet.

"Yes, we do know who saved her," Ms. T said. "And that comes into play here. As I said, we all know what happened. And what you probably also know is that our first instinct after the incident was to cancel The Program. We got impassioned pleas to rethink that decision—and we decided to do just that, especially because those pleas were most impassioned from the girl who was attacked herself, and the two people that saved her."

"The girl who was attacked herself?" Lisa Sherrick asked.

"We just saw Reenie Ying in the lunchroom," Jared told her. "She’s still naked. She’s still going through with it. And she still wants to."

"Wow. That’s guts," Lisa said.

"Yes, it is," Ms. T agreed. "And that’s why we’re willing to listen and think this over."

"You also need to know that we just signed a petition," I told Ms T and Mr. Tilling. "The petition is for continuing The Program. We didn’t start this up—though I wish we had thought of it. Anyhow, the kid that took our signatures said they got close to half the school to sign in just a few hours."

"Wow," Mr. Tilling piped up.

"Yeah, that is impressive," Ms. T agreed. "However, we still want to talk about it. Since we’ve discussed it heavily in this class, and both Jared and Amanda are here, we decided this would be a good place to do it. We’ve already heard from Amanda," she laughed, "and I think what she said has made the rounds pretty well. If you think you have anything to add, Amanda, speak up. However, we want to hear from Jared, at the end, because we haven’t heard from him. And we want to hear from the rest of you. What do you think of The Program?"

"Makes me horny," Maggie piped up.

"Yeah, now there’s a shock," I teased her.

"Can I continue now?" Ms T asked, smiling. "Anyhow, we want to know what you think of The Program. We want to know how having people in class going through it has affected you. Also, Jared and Amanda both have close friends in this class—what have you thought seeing a good friend go through it?"

Maggie raised her hand. Ms T just grinned at her. "This is a serious comment, Ms. T," Maggie said.

"OK, shoot."

"I’ve been friends with Amanda for a long time. She’s probably my best friend. I think I know her pretty well. And in all the while I’ve known her, she’s always been a complete tight-ass." Everyone laughed—except I just glared at her. "Don’t give me that look, girl, you know I’m right. Anyhow, she’s so much not a tight-ass now I can’t believe it. The Amanda Frazier I’ve known for years wouldn’t think about walking around with a sign proclaiming how overfucked she is! I keep looking over at her to make sure it’s the same person."

"Is this good or bad?" Ms. T asked.

"It’s good," Maggie asserted. "Being a tight-ass is no way to go through life. I like her more loosened up like this. She’s still the same Amanda, only more open."

"I’m not sure about that," Reyna Jorgens, one of my usual crowd, piped up.

"What do you mean, Reyna?" Ms. T asked.

"To me, she’s almost like a completely different person. She used to be so composed. And now this. I’m not quite sure how to take it, actually."

"What do you think about that, Amanda?"

"Well, I see both their points," I said. "For one thing, I don’t think I’m the same person. However, Maggie’s my very best friend. While I’m friends with Reyna, it’s not really close like Maggie and I are. So I can see where Maggie saw the real me all these years, and other people, who weren’t as close to me as Maggie is, didn’t see."

"The real you?" Reyna asked.

"Yup, and this is it. That other person that existed a week ago isn’t."

"I don’t know if that’s good, that’s what I mean," Reyna said. "Amanda, you were always so sweet and warm and friendly."

"She still is," Jared piped up.

"I think I’m more so. Or at least I’m more honest about it," I began. "Reyna, I was warm and friendly to everybody. In equal amounts. Because that’s what you do to become Most Popular. And you never knew if I was cursing you underneath my breath every time I forced myself to be nice to you. Now, Reyna, in your case, that’s not true, I think you’re cool. But, my point is, even if it had been true, you would’ve never known. There are people in this school who think I’m the nicest thing ever—because I was faking it. A week ago, I probably would have been nice to the two assholes that attacked Irene. Think about how warped that is."

I took a breath. "And that goes both ways, too. I was superficially warm and nice and friendly to those who I hated, and my closest friends, and in equal measures. Maggie’s been my best friend for six years, and not once in all that time have I ever told her that I loved her. Well, until now."

It is very, very difficult to say anything that shocks Maggie Benson. I had just done it.

"And it’s true. I do love her. And I shouldn’t be afraid to say it, nor should I be afraid to dismiss people who don’t deserve the time of day from me. I can’t count the number of times that I’ve gone to a party and spent the whole party flitting from person to person being witty and charming—when what I really wanted to be doing was sitting in the corner with Maggie and Michelle Ingemi, gossiping. That’s not going to happen anymore. And that goes doubly true now that I have a boyfriend."

"So, yeah, I’ve changed. The people that I care about, well, I hope they know more now how much I care about them. And the people that I don’t care about, I don’t care about. Nobody in this room, actually—everyone in here that I know well at all, I like. But there are others, who probably were all set to vote me Miss Popular for the yearbook, who will now think I’m a bitch. So be it."

"Honestly, I consider Amanda a friend," Ed Bauer spoke up, "and I like her better this way. And it’s not that she’s discovered her sexuality or anything like that, because I’m not getting any." Even I laughed at that. "It’s because I do think she’s more genuine. That’s cool."

"This is a good start," Ms. T said. "Now, do any of you have comments on how having fellow students in The Program has affected you."

A girl named Allie Fitzpatrick raised her hand. "This is difficult…and I’m going to embarrass someone, I know. But it’s forced me to examine my preferences."

"What do you mean?" Ms. T said.

Allie blushed furiously. "Look, I’m not a virgin. It’s only been a couple of times, but I liked it. I know I like guys. And Jared is damn good looking. So why do I keep staring at Amanda?" I let out a little nervous giggle at that. "And it’s not just her, there’s a girl that I’ve seen in The Program this week, I think she’s a senior, and she’s gorgeous!"

"What’s wrong with that?" Ms. T asked.

"It’s not that nothing’s wrong with it, but, like I said, I know I like guys. Being attracted to girls is new."

"Nothing wrong with bisexuality," Ms. T said.

"Absolutely true. For some people," Lisa Sherrick said. "Me, I’ll continue to stare at Amanda."

"I agree with you completely," Jared piped up.

"Jeez," I said in mock-exasperation, "is there anyone in this room not staring at me?"

"I’M NOT!" I should’ve known. Why did I even ask? Maggie, of course.

"You think I’m bi?" Allie asked.

"If you know you like guys, and you now think you’re attracted to girls, I think it’s a possibility," Ms. T said. "I think it’s something you should think about. And I mean, think about—not worry over."

"Thanks, Ms. T," Allie said. "That makes a lot of sense."

"Great. Anything else?" Ms. T asked.

A few more people offered their opinions, most of them positive. One girl who grew up in a pretty repressive anti-sex house said that some of the things that went on had opened her eyes. "I don’t think I am ready for this right now, but my Dad was going on one of his sex-is-evil rants last night. And I was thinking about what Jared and Amanda were talking about yesterday, about their first time, and all I could think of was that sex sounded fun to me. It’s changed my outlook drastically."

It was very interesting.

It was an interesting class. After Ms. T took everyone’s comments, she asked about The Program. She asked who would definitely be interested in doing it, and about half the class’s hands went up. She asked who’d like to do it but their parents would never give permission—a few hands went up. She asked who wasn’t sure but might, and a few more hands went up. And she asked who would never do it under any circumstances—and Lisa Sherrick’s hand went up.

"No way, no how, not ever. And if my parents ever tried to slip a fast one and sign me up, I’d drop out of school and get my GED."

"I’m surprised," Ms. T. "You always seemed pretty open about these things, and you never seemed to have any kind of phobia about your body. You’re not repressed. You might not be nude, but you dress pretty sexy."

"Oh, it’s not the undressing part that bothers me," she said. "I’ll come in and parade around naked all day long. It’s the other stuff. Being groped? Going to the boy’s showers?"

"That’s designed as a learning experience, for you and the boys." Ms. T said.

"I don’t need to learn a damn thing from boys," Lisa maintained. "I know what I am. I’m a lesbian. I have no intention of not being a lesbian. And the last thing I ever want is some guy’s hand on my boobs, or in my twat—and I certainly don’t want to go into a boy’s locker room and look at a bunch of hairy dicks. Now, I don’t have a problem with seeing guys who themselves are in the program. Jared and his waving dick up there don’t disgust me or anything. You know, it’s probably the same way straight guys react to a guy in The Program—yeah, whatever, lead me to the naked girls. It doesn’t bother me having guys in The Program wandering around naked. But I certainly don’t want to be nude and the center of attention myself around them. I think The Program’s great—if you’re straight. It’s very hetero-centric. Look, I don’t hate guys. Some of my best friends are guys. One good thing about being in this class for this week is I’ve found out that Jared is a very cool person who I’d like to get to know better. But he does absolutely nothing for me sexually, and never will. And though I think he’s cool and would like to have him as a friend, I’d never want him groping me."

"Look, do not take this as a rant against The Program. I don’t mean that. I signed the petition to keep it. I think it’s good for a lot of people. I can see with my own eyes it’s been good for Amanda and Jared. Hell, I’ve liked listening to their stories. I liked the whole taking-of-virginity story, because it was sweet and romantic and sexy. I can appreciate that. I even liked Tuesday’s floor show. The only difference is, I wasn’t wishing I was Amanda during the floor show, I was wishing I was Jared. And if I ever went into The Program myself, I’d be forced to be Amanda, and I’d want to be Jared instead. Without the hair and the dick, of course."

I laughed at that. "There ain’t much hair anyway, and you can have it. I’m keeping the dick, though."

"You just keep it over there," she laughed. "Next to Amanda. Where it belongs. Anyhow, that’s my take on it."

"That’s very interesting," Mr. Tilling said from the back of the class. "You bring up an interesting point, Lisa, and it’s one well worth thinking about. I don’t know if we can accommodate this, but I think I’m going to try to find a way. Maybe one week set aside for gay and lesbian students, and maybe another one for bi students."

"Well, don’t change the rules for me," Lisa said. "It’s not a big deal if I don’t do it."

"Yes, but I was thinking of what you said in conjunction with what Allie said earlier. Allie’s a bit confused about her sexuality, right? Well, she’s now got the opportunity to grope and grab a guy, make them pose, experiment some. She doesn’t have that opportunity, really, with a girl. Same-sex touching isn’t prohibited, but it pretty much never happens, because you don’t know if the person in The Program being groped would get angry. If we set aside a week where we knew the participants were same-sex oriented, it might open things up for people that need to experiment with that to do so."

"Damn, Mr. Tilling," Lisa said. "I’m impressed. Now that is thinking on your feet."

"Thank you, Lisa," he said, bemused. "Now I’m gonna put you on the spot. If we ever decided to do that, would you sign up?"

"Yes. Yes I would."

"Lisa, you’re vice-president of the Gay/Straight Alliance, are you not?" Mr. Tilling asked.

"Yes."

"Would you do something for me, then? A bit of an informal poll. See if there’d be any support for doing this among some of the gay and bi students."

"I’d love to," she said happily. "That’s great. And I think there will be. We talked about The Program at our meeting yesterday, and some of the gay and bi kids expressed the same things I did. It’s great, it works, we don’t fit into it. I think you’d definitely get some interest. I’ll find out and get back to you."

"Great. One other thing. We’ve thought about the thing that I heard you said earlier, Amanda, about relief. And we’re going to change that. Girls will get the same opportunity for relief as guys."

"That’s great!" she said from next to me. "Can we make that change now?" I had to laugh at that.

"Needy, Amanda?" Ms. T asked.

"And how," she admitted.

"What do you think, Mr. Tilling?" Ms T asked.

"It was her idea, and request, and it’s her last day in The Program. Go for it."

"First of all, Jared, how are you?" Ms. T asked.

"Just fine. I pass to my sweetie." I said.

"OK, Amanda, you get to be the first female student in The Program to ask for relief."

"There you go, Jared, it’s all yours," Maggie laughed.

Amanda leaned into me. "Do you mind if I don’t pick you?" she whispered.

"No. You’ve got something up your sleeve, don’t you?" I whispered back.

"Yup." Then she spoke to the class. "Jared’s agreed to let me pick someone else. Allie, would you like to come up and help me?"

"Huh?" Allie said.

"Only, only, only if you want to. Feel free to say no. But I thought you might like to try."

Allie blushed furiously—but stood out of her seat and tentatively walked to the front of the class. She slowly knelt down in front of Amanda.

"So, Jared," Maggie shouted, "how long of watching this do you think it’ll take you before you get rock-hard?"

"Zero point seven seconds," I deadpanned to laughter.

Allie looked up at me, beet-red but smiling, and then turned back to Amanda. She started tentatively, but quickly worked up a head of steam, her hand exploring every nook and cranny of Amanda’s pussy. Then she had one hand up on Amanda’s boob, and the other one furiously working over her pussy. Amanda turned her head slightly towards me, breathing heavy, eyes half-closed, and moaned, "Oh, she’s gooood!"

"I am?" Allie squeaked.

"Oh, yeaaaah," Amanda drawled, as Allie diddled into her pussy. Then Allie shocked everybody—including, I think, herself. With one hand sliding in and out of Amanda’s cunny, Allie leaned over and went right for Amanda’s clit with her tongue. Amanda squealed in surprise and lust, and Allie went to town, furiously plunging her fingers in and out of Amanda’s pussy while she nibbled on her clit. A couple minutes of this, and Amanda exploded. What a sight.

And Maggie and I were right. After all this, as Allie shyly pulled away, blushing, and Amanda tried to catch her breath—I noticed that I was like stone. I was so hard it hurt.

Maggie, of course, noticed. "I guess that zero point seven seconds was right. Jared, you might have passed, but you look seriously in need of relief right now!"

"Jared?" Ms T asked.

Before I had a chance to say a word, Allie—her face soaked with my girlfriend’s juices--looked up and me and said, "May I?"

Amanda looked over at me, grinning, and winked and nodded. "By all means. Thank you," I told Allie. She scooted over in front of me, and sucked half my dick into her mouth.

Jesus. She got quite a bit of it in. She didn’t pull a Maggie, but she came close. Her tongue was furiously working me over as she sucked, and her hand was doing a fine job on the part that wasn’t in her mouth. There I was, sitting naked next to my girlfriend, and getting blown—very well, thank you—by a girl who was not my girlfriend, but who did have my girlfriend’s pussy juices all over her face. My oh my. I think the zero point seven seconds applied to how long it took me to cum, too. I did have long enough to warn Allie, and did so—and all she did was suck another inch down and increase the pressure. I went with a ka-BANG!. The first few rattled against the back of her throat, and she was humming. The last couple squirts, though, she ran out of room. Some of it leaked out of her lips and dribbled onto her chin.

She looked up at us. What a sight. She was blushing and grinning, and there was a little pool of my cum collecting on her chin, mingling there with Amanda’s juices. It was fantastic. She positioned herself so that she was kneeling between us, straightened up so she was at eye-level with us, leaned in a bit, and whispered. "Thank you so much. That was….that was….Oh God I am soooooo wet right now!" Then she blushed and stood up, turning away—and got a standing ovation. She blushed like a grape at that.

After the ovation subsided and Allie got back in her seat, Ms T asked, "So, Allie, did that help you figure out anything?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "I think it’s pretty clear that I’m bisexual. I mean, I did a girl and a guy one right after the other, and absolutely loved every minute of both equally. I also learned that Jared and Amanda are incredibly loving and generous people." She visibly squirmed in her chair. "And I learned that I should never, ever, ever do that again if I don’t have the opportunity for relief!"

Ms T laughed with the class at that one, and then looked at Allie. "Allie, you’re a bit messy. You want something to clean yourself off with?"

Allie proudly jut out her cum-and-pussy-juice covered chin, and said. "No, I don’t. No thank you." Prompting another ovation.

"All right, now that that’s over," Ms T grinned. "Jared, can you speak?"

"I think so," I laughed.

"Good. There’s a few minutes left in class. The floor’s all yours. Tell us what The Program has done for you."

"Ok," I began. "Let me tell you something that you all don’t know—well, Amanda does, and Mr. Tilling might, but the rest of you don’t. I absolutely did not want to do this."

"I didn’t volunteer, my parents volunteered for me. And told me about this last week. They told me they had volunteered me, that they thought I needed it, and that they had asked to have me bumped to the top of the list. I was furious, but they wouldn’t waver. So, this Monday, when I got the call to come down to the office, I knew what it was about. And I was dreading it."

"Now, remember, I walked into that office, and what was I confronted with there? Amanda. My long-time crush. Here you go, Jared, here’s the girl you’ve been mooning over forever—now take your clothes off."

"So, I started The Program with every disadvantage. I absolutely didn’t want to do it. I was ashamed and embarrassed. I wasn’t an outcast or anything, but I wasn’t particularly popular. And I was confronted with the object of my desire and had to disrobe in front of her!"

"I have told you all that my crush on Amanda was a worship-from-afar thing. I hadn’t had an actual conversation with her, ever. So, I got naked, and the first thing she said was ‘Wow’. And she got naked, and I got an embarrassing and mortifying woody, and she said ‘Thanks for the compliment’."

"So, now, I had two warring things going on in my mind. The first was, after three minutes, I had already had a hint that Amanda was even cooler than I had suspected. The second was, as I said, extreme embarrassment."

"This is how this week started! I was five minutes into The Program and I’m going through this!" Everyone laughed at that.

"But it got better, and it got better fast. Now, a lot of you are probably thinking, ‘Yeah, Amanda made it better,’ but that’s not all of it. That’s a big, huge, honkin’ part of it, but that’s not all of it. Any experience that delivers the girl of your dreams into your arms—and shows you that the reality of the girl is a gazillion times better than the dream—is, by definition, a good experience."

"But it wasn’t just Amanda that made it better, not by a long shot. Maggie made it better. Eddie Bauer made it better. Lisa made it better. Allie made it better. Ms. T made it better. And that’s just in one class. I could go on, and it’s a long list."

"Even what happened today, which is the dark side of experimenting with things like this, even that eventually made it better—because the support I’ve gotten is nothing short of incredible. And I’ve talked to Reenie Ying and she feels the same way."

"The Program brings people together. And not just in a Jared-and-Amanda-in-love kind of way. I spent the week as the center of attention. There were times when it was uncomfortable. It has been really uncomfortable today, frankly, because I don’t think what I did was all that heroic. But, overall, being the center of attention has been cool—because, when you’re the center of attention, people seek you out. And when people seek you out, the results can be fantastic. Not always, mind you—I’m sure we all wished those two fucks hadn’t sought Reenie out this morning. But the vast, vast majority of people here are great, and, when they seek you out, you discover that. It’s not just Amanda. I didn’t know Maggie well at all before this week. I didn’t know Ed, or Lisa. I didn’t know Allie, and I just shared an experience with her that I will never forget."

"The first day of The Program, Amanda came and sat down with me for lunch. Yes, we were assigned to be buddies, but, again that’s another legacy of The Program. Today, a whole bunch of people that, last week, I didn’t know, came down and ate lunch with us. And we had a blast. And because The Program has exposed me, in more ways than one—I’ve gained confidence from it. And I was able to accept new people coming down and eating lunch with me and chatting. "

"Because I’ve been in The Program, and people have been looking towards me, and approaching me—I end this week with a significantly larger number of friends than I started it with. Not to mention a girlfriend. Now, I’m sure not everybody that goes into The Program’s gonna come out with a girlfriend. But if you keep an open mind, and keep your sense of humor, and let yourself experience it—you will come out of it with more friends. A lot more friends. I guarantee it."

"And that’s what The Program has done for me."

The whooping and hollering was deafening. This time, I didn’t mind at all.

Is he just the best, or what?

Wow.

Anyhow, Ms T let us out five minutes early, after thanking the whole class for their participation and support, and thanking Jared and I for handling the whole thing with "class, humor, a sense of fun, and a whole lot of panache." Panache—I liked that one. And Mr. T said that they were going to give The Program a rest next week, but that, after hearing from all of us, they were definitely leaning towards starting it back up the following week. Good.

As we were filing out, Allie approached Jared and I. "I don’t know how to thank you. That was…incredible."

"Don’t thank me, I enjoyed it," I told her. "You are good."

"Ditto," Jared said. "We both had a blast."

"Thank you anyway," Allie said, blushing. "It was loving and generous, sharing each other with me like that. I was touched." She lowered her voice and blushed deeper. "And I have been tasting and smelling both of you all over my face for ten minutes now. I’d like to tell you that was a great speech, Jared, but I don’t think I heard it. I am so wet I’m going to leave a trail. So, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom and diddle myself. Bye."

As she walked away, Jared and I shared a knowing grin. Then we headed out of the class.

"You know, seriously, that was a good thing you did," he said to me.

"What?"

"Allie. Calling her up there like that, after what she had said. That was a damn sweet thing to do." I started to say something, and he interrupted. "I know, you got off, it was good for you, too, whatever. But I could’ve gotten you off. Half the class could’ve gotten you off. You had no idea Allie was going to be that good, especially considering it was her first time muff-diving." Muff diving—I had to giggle. "Like that one, huh?" he smiled. "Anyway, you picked her because you knew she needed it, and wanted it, and needed to try it. You probably just increased that kid’s chances of having a healthy and happy sex life by a thousand percent. It was a wonderful gift you gave her."

"Dammit, Jared, you’re going to make me cry!"

"It’s the truth."

"You’re wonderful, you know that?" I sighed. "Anyhow, I have to admit, I know kind of what Allie means, because I am really horny by now."

"I thought she was soooo gooooood!" he teased.

"She was. She is. But I’ll be honest. I don’t need that again—I’m going to gym, I could get fingered in the shower. I need a fuck," I admitted. "Pity you’re not in my gym class."

"Yup," he agreed. "But I thought you were sore?"

"All gone away," I told him. "Though, I must admit, if I were getting fucked by you right now it would be a nice slow easy one." He laughed at that. "But, no, I’m fine."

"Well, you’re going to gym. If there are any guys in the shower you’d like to take on, you have my permission."

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"You have my permission to get boffed in the shower at gym. Go for it. You need to get laid that badly, go for it. I don’t mind."

Unbelievable. He said this right at the fork in the hallway where we had to separate, so I grabbed him, kissed him—fuck the no-PDA rule—and said, "Do you know how incredible you are?"

"I hope so, everyone’s been telling me all day," he said ruefully. "I feel like one of the damn Beatles. Anyhow, you’re incredible, too. Now go. Have fun. See you in History."

"See you. Love you." He blew a kiss at me and headed down the hall.

I headed for gym. It was fun. Volleyball—in my case, nude volleyball. Do you know how hard it is to run around hitting a volleyball with your 36 C’s bouncing all over the place? It ain’t easy. But it was fun all the same. At one point, a high one was hit in my direction, and, as it started coming down to me, my teammates started chanting "Hit the ball, not the boobs. Hit the ball, not the boobs." Of course, I was laughing so hard I missed the ball and the boobs.

Afterwards, we hit the shower. The gym teacher, knowing this was my last day in The Program, actually let us hit the showers a bit early. So, I had a couple of guys help me wash off the writing—with the odd surreptitious hand-slide towards paydirt thrown in, of course. That just succeeded in making me hornier.

I looked around—and saw my buddy, Ed Bauer. I sidled up to him. "Hey, Ed."

"Hey Amanda."

"Listen. Remember in bio, you said you liked me better like this even though you weren’t getting any?"

"Yeah," he laughed.

"Wanna change that?"

"HUH?"

I grabbed his dick—which was inflating rapidly—and pointed it in the general direction of my pussy. "It’s all yours if you want it. I need it bad right about now—and you’re my buddy, so, go for it."

Ed is a class act. "What about Jared?" he asked.

"I have his permission. He knew I was suffering from serious want, and he knew he’s not in this class, so he told me to go for it."

"He’s something else, isn’t he?"

"That he is."

He got a big grin, but glanced at the clock on the wall outside the shower. "It’d have to be kind of a quickie, though."

"Won’t take me long," I grinned at him.

"Well, then. What are we waiting for?" He maneuvered me a bit so my back was up against the shower wall. He spread my legs apart a bit, bent his knees a bit—wasn’t too bad, we’re almost the same height—guided it with his hand, and in he went.

Another new thing—my first time standing up. It was a bit awkward at first, but Ed got into a rhythm. I put my hands around his shoulders, and he put his on my hips, and held me against the wall while he fucked me. My back was slippery and wet from the soap and water of the shower, so, when Ed got himself going, my feet were actually coming off the ground at every upstroke. I have to admit, I liked that. To actually be fucked off the ground was pretty amazing. I thought that I’d have to try this with Jared—I wonder how long he could hold me off the ground.

But Ed was doing just fine himself, and I was right—it wasn’t going to take me long. I started wheezing and moaning, and heard some chattering—and realized something else. I’d been diddled and such in front of an audience—but this is the first time I’d ever been fucked in front of an audience. I opened my eyes and saw the entire locker room of boys in the shower, watching me get fucked through the shower wall. I have to admit it—realizing I was being watched as my pussy got pounded sent me over the cliff even faster. And they got a good show—I came good and hard. Realizing I was giving a bunch of teenaged boys a good show made it even harder. I loved it, loved that my pal had me pinned up against the wall while he fucked my brains out, and loved that I was being watched. Ed couldn’t take much of me howling and spasming all over him, and off he went. He actually had me dangling off the ground for the first few spurts as he drove up into me. The audience loved that one. A couple more seconds of that, and I could’ve gone again.

Ed set me down. My mind was reeling. A raucous, slamming knee-trembler in the shower, with a guy who isn’t my boyfriend, and in front of an audience. I kept thinking, jeez, I am turning into such a slut. Can you have a steady boyfriend who you love more than you can say, and still be a slut? What an interesting question that is.

I gave Ed a big hug, and said, "Thank you."

"Thank you," he laughed. "That was something else. I’ll admit it. I’ve always thought you were a fox, and when I found out you were going into The Program—and knowing that The Program usually sends people into cataclysms of horniness—I was kinda hoping I might get a shot. But then you hooked up with Jared, and I figured—oh, well. That’s that. And I didn’t mind at all—I was, and still am, extremely happy for you. You’re my friend first and foremost, and Jared makes you happy. And after all that, I still get a shot." I had to giggle at that one. "And what a shot it was. Jared’s a lucky guy."

"No luckier than I am. I mean, Jesus, Ed. I know you’re horny, and I know I’m not available, so go fuck somebody? How many boyfriends would do that?"

"Good point. Hey, are you guys going to the after-game party tomorrow?"

"Yeah," I told him.

"Gonna finally enter The Orgy Room?"

"It’s under discussion," I smiled at him. "But I think we are."

"That oughta be interesting." He looked down at the detritus of our boinking, which was dripping down my legs and off his dick. "We’d better get back under the shower head and clean up, eh?"

We did, and then got dressed—well, he got dressed, I put my socks and shoes on—and we left the locker room. He kissed me on the cheek, and off he went. Heading to my next class, I heard myself called down to the office. Jared, too.

We met down the hall from the office. "Hey, love," he greeted me.

"Hi," I said, a bit shyly.

"What’s up?"

"Nuthin." I admit it—I know he gave me permission, but I was still slightly ashamed. And he picked up on it right away.

"You’re awfully shy and blushing all of a sudden. I do believe somebody got boinked in the locker room. So, who got the honors?" he grinned.

"Ed," I admitted.

"Bauer?"

"Yeah. You mind—I mean, that it was Ed?"

"Why would I? I told you to take your pick. And Ed’s a good guy. I don’t blame you for picking a friend. In fact, I approve." He leered at me. "So how was it?"

"Very interesting. Let’s see, we were in the shower. Standing up. Every time he stroked up, my feet left the ground. And we had an audience."

"And, you liked having an audience. I can tell by your silly little grin."

"Yeah, well…" I faltered. "OK, I did. I loved all of it." Then I said it. "I’m getting really slutty, aren’t I?"

"Nah."

"Jeez, Jared, we’ve been together for three days and I’ve been with two other guys! And, what makes it worse is that you haven’t been with anyone else!"

"It’s all right. If the opportunity presents itself, I know you’ll give me your blessing. And if we go to that party tomorrow, I’m betting the opportunity will present itself."

"Right on both counts," I smiled. "I do still want to watch you fuck someone else."

"And I have an idea on that score. But later. We need to go in here now." We were at the office. And he was going to keep me on pins and needles with his idea!

When we got inside the office, we found the police there. They needed to talk to us about what had happened this morning. We both talked to them, they took our statements, and told us we’d probably be called to testify at any trial. We understood that, and were completely willing, and told them so.

This took the rest of the class day, so we were dismissed. It was kind of sad, our last day in The Program. Of course, we did have the football game the next day—naked cheerleading for me. And the party afterwards.

As we were heading out of Mr. Tilling’s office, Tina came running in. "Warning, warning, danger little brother!"

"What are you talking about?"

"News media. Scads of ‘em. Waiting for you outside the door. TV cameras and all."

"TV cameras?" Jared said in a panic. "I have no fucking clothes on! And I don’t have any here!"

Tina looked down at her sexy tank-top and miniskirt and said, "I’d loan you mine, little brother, but I don’t think they’d fit"

"Thanks, Tina. You’re a laff riot. What the hell am I gonna do?" Poor Jared was frantic.

"What’s wrong, Jared?" Mr. Tilling asked, coming out of his office.

"Oh, just the media hordes, waiting outside to talk to me about my ‘heroism’ or some such bullshit. And every piece of clothing I own is at home!"

"So? Go talk to them, Jared. Just like that. Now, I’m not telling you what to do. But, think of it this way. One of the reasons we considered doing away with The Program is we know we’re going to get flack about it from the public, because of what happened to Reenie. You go out there like that, and talk to those people, and be your usual articulate self, it’ll be a big boost."

"You know, he’s right," I said.

"Yeah. I guess."

"Honey, I’ll be with you every step of the way. I’ll be next to you for every interview. I’ll even help, if you want. And I’m as naked as you are."

"OK."

We both walked out there. The first thing we saw was our usual cheering section. They all cheered and applauded us, and I heard at least one "Thanks for a great week, guys!" And then came the vultures.

"Jared! Amanda!" they started calling.

So we went and talked to them. They asked questions about what had happened with Irene, and Jared answered them—trying to downplay it, of course, but he told them all what happened.

Then they tried to pin the blame for the incident on The Program, and Jared, of course, was having none of that. He was eloquent and persuasive. The reporters asked me for my two cents, and I like to think that I was also eloquent and persuasive. Then we headed off.

I started laughing. "Did you see how they were trying to focus in tightly on our faces? They all panicked about getting any naughty bits in their shots."

"Not all of them. Channel 3 absolutely kept panning down to your boobs. I saw it."

I laughed harder. "Oh, yeah, well, did you hear what that blonde bimbo reporter from Channel 12 said?" He shook his head. "First of all, when you came out to them, her eyes got as wide as saucers. Then she went over to her cameraman, pointed at you, and said, ‘Make sure you shoot this kid from the waist up. We wouldn’t want a stampede of girls overrunning the poor kid’s house.’"

Boy, can he blush! I couldn’t help it, I was laughing my naked ass off.

We went to his house, and he immediately walked in and wrapped Tina in a big bear hug. Then he stepped back and said, "If you ever make me start crying in the middle of the halls at Westport High again, I’m going to kill you!"

Tina cracked up laughing, and then said, "I’m sorry, little brother, but I had to tell you how I felt."

"I know. You really are the world’s best big sister," Jared told her.

"I know, ain’t I?" Tina cracked.

After that, his parents came in. They had, of course, heard, and were overcome with pride. Jared’s Mom couldn’t stop hugging him. We chatted for a while, and then I asked him to take me home.

"We can go out afterwards. I just need to check in."

"Should I grab some clothes?" he asked me.

"Why do a silly thing like that?" I giggled. I really had become completely comfortable in the nude.

We got to my house, and my mother came running out of the house. She gave me a big hug and a smile—and then she really impressed me. She walked around Jared’s car to the driver’s side, and, after Jared had stepped out, gave him a big hug. And a kiss on the cheek.

"I heard about what happened. The news is all over town." Then she turned to me. "Amanda, the next time I question your judgement, slap me." I was shocked. She went on. "Because any guy who’ll put himself on the line like that to defend a girl in trouble—well, he can be with my daughter all he wants." I was absolutely, completely stunned. "When I was your age, Amanda, I only saw the bad side of guys. It took until I met your father to find a good one. And, as you reminded me last night, you’re not me—and that’s the truth, because you’re a whole lot better at finding the good ones than I was at your age." Then she turned and headed for the house.

I couldn’t move. I turned to Jared, and we stared at each other in shock. Mom got halfway to the door, turned back to us, and said, "Well, are you guys coming in, or what? The news will be on soon—I hear you guys are going to make an appearance." Then she went in.

"Wow," I said with a smile.

"Wow is right." Jared took a deep breath. "Shall we?" He took my hand, and we went inside. Dad came home shortly thereafter, full of praise and handshakes and claps on the back for Jared. We sat down and chatted, waiting for the news to come on. And, as we chatted, I kept seeing my Mom and Dad shooting little looks at each other.

Unbelievable. I guess I did the right thing by getting myself lost last night.

"So," Mom asked after a while, "should I be donating all your clothes to Goodwill, or what? You know, since I haven’t seen you wearing any in, like, three days."

"Nah," I laughed. "I’m sure I’ll put some on eventually."

"Yeah, the weather’s nice right now," Jared said. "I don’t think you’ll be seeing us traipse around like this in January."

"No way," I said. "I have enough of a problem with perky nipples." Then I realized what I said, and looked at Mom. She just laughed.

"I can see where that might be a problem," she said. "What with the constant stimulation and all." Wow, she was really surprising me.

She went into the kitchen to get some drinks, and I got up and followed her. "Mom, I have to ask—what has gotten into you?"

She laughed. "Well, first of all, your father and I had a real long talk last night. A good talk. I’ve been carrying my hang-ups around for too long. You know what he said last night about me being uninterested in sex for a long time?" I nodded. "Well, it was never that. It was guilt. Because I felt that I had been used by boys in high school, I felt guilty every time I enjoyed having sex. And I did enjoy it."

She sighed. "And because of the guilt, I was repressing that, and avoiding the whole thing. And I did incredible damage to your father because of it." She gave me a sad smile. "And you, too. I projected my guilt onto you. It was wrong, and I’m sorry."

"It’s OK, Mom," I told her.

"No, it’s not, but…. The other thing is that I thought I was protecting you. As I said outside, what hadn’t occurred to me is that your judgement is far better than mine."

"I don’t know if that’s true. You know what happened yesterday with Eric. And it happened again today." I told her about Ed.

"But that’s not the same thing at all," she said, surprising me. "Jared gave you permission. Not the same thing at all." She looked at me. "Don’t tell me you’re struggling with guilt."

"Well, kind of," I told her. "When Ed and I got done, I felt like a complete wanton harlot. What might have been even more disturbing is a large part of me liked feeling that way."

"What does Jared say about that?"

"He doesn’t mind. Says it’s fine."

"Would you give him the same opportunity to experiment if he wanted?"

"Of course. I’ve told him that."

"And do you think this experimenting will cause you to lose him, or him to lose you?"

"No," I said definitely, with a smile. "Sex is one thing. Love is another. Sex and love together is something else entirely."

"In other words, the other guys were fun, but Jared…."

"Makes the earth move," I finished for her.

"There you go. As long as you know that, and never forget it, don’t worry about it. As long as you and Jared agree on things, and can keep your relationship where it should be, don’t worry about it. And Jared loves you completely, I can see it in his eyes when he looks at you."

"I love him just as much."

"I can see that in your eyes, too," she smiled. "So, as long as you guys agree on the limits and it doesn’t damage what you have together, what’s the problem? I’ll tell you the truth. If I had been able to develop a carefree attitude towards it at your age, I wouldn’t be toting around all these hang-ups. I would never have been able to say ‘I feel like a wanton harlot and part of me likes it.’ Because I did feel that way, and none of me liked it. And that is because I was using sex to get what I really wanted—love. You don’t have to do that."

"What do you mean?" I asked her.

"Look, when you have sex with Jared, does it intensify your love for one another?"

"Well, yeah." I admitted.

"When you had sex with Ed, was there any of that?"

"No. I don’t love Ed. Well, I love him, but as a friend. I’m not in love with him. It’s a completely different thing. I guess it was mostly physical—laced with affection, because we really are good friends, but mostly physical. When Jared and I are together, the emotional equals the physical. Hell, there are times when the emotional overwhelms the physical." I looked down at the floor, and softly admitted, "Jared has made me cry. And I’m not talking about in pain, either. I don’t think there’s another person in the world that could do that."

"There you go. That’s my point. I never learned that. I was looking for that kind of emotional experience with every guy I was ever with—because that was my goal. And when it didn’t happen, I felt guilty. Because, since physical pleasure wasn’t what I wanted—when that’s all I got, I felt guilty." She smiled at me. "You know the difference. And I’m glad you do. I also think you know what’s more valuable."

"Yes, I do," I laughed. "Look, if Jared gave me an ultimatum—me, or sleeping around—sleeping around would be gone. In a heartbeat. No questions asked, no regrets. But, yeah, sometimes the physical needs start calling, and he’s not there. I was completely strung out at gym, and Jared knew it, and he’s not there, and that’s why he told me to go for it." I blushed. "And, I admit it—I suppose I do get a little thrill at cultivating the wanton harlot side of my personality."

"Well, that’s because you’re caught in a bit of a dilemma. You discovered your sexuality and fell in love all at the same time. And I take the blame for that." I looked at her, surprised. "Because in this day and age you should’ve discovered your sexuality long before this. If I hadn’t been foisting my own hang-ups on you, you would’ve spent the past two years picking up Maggie Benson’s leftovers, and you would’ve been more prepared for Jared."

"WHAT?" I gasped.

"Oh, come on, Amanda. You think I don’t know what Maggie’s like? Don’t try to snow your mother." She grinned at me. "I’m sure I pushed that knowledge into the dark recesses of my mind at times, because I didn’t want to deal with it, but I know. And, it’s true, if you had spent the last two years being Maggie, finding Jared now wouldn’t throw you so much. But if he doesn’t mind, and you two think you can maintain your relationship while you cultivate—what did you call it?—the wanton harlot side of you, then go for it."

"I see what you mean," I told her. "I just think it’ll work better if it’s more equal. I do have some ideas on that score."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, if I’m going to do that, we need to cultivate the gigolo side of his personality. Can’t just be me, that leads to inequities."

"Good point. Though that shouldn’t be a problem. He’s certainly packing some heat, isn’t he?"

Of all the myriad number of unbelievably shocking things that had happened to me that week, hearing those words come out of my Mother’s mouth absolutely took the cake. All I could do was sputter.

"Oh, come on," she said. "I haven’t yet met that boy when he’s had a single article of clothing on. You think I wasn’t going to notice? I mean, it’s readily apparent."

I was still sputtering.

"In fact," she continued, "if I couldn’t see for my own eyes how much you love him, I could certainly come up with another valid reason why you’d be going out with him."

Still sputtering.

"OK, Amanda, stop looking at me like I have three heads." She grinned at me. "Come on. Let’s get these drinks and get back out there. We’ve been in here so long, the boys are going to think we got attacked by the dishwasher, or something."

I followed her out, still incredulous. Un. Fucking. Believable.

We went out, and Mom and Dad started talking about something. I sat next to Jared and snuggled into him.

"What took you so long?" he asked.

"I have just had the best talk I have ever had with my mother in my entire sixteen years on earth." I said with a happy sigh.

"That’s great," he said.

"I’ll tell you all about it later."

"Hey, kids, the news is coming on," Dad said.

We watched channel three, and Jared was right—they did show my boobs. Quite a bit. We switched to channel 12, and the cameraman obviously wasn’t listening, because Little Jared—OK, not so Little Jared--got in the picture quite a bit.

"It’s a good thing they didn’t flash your phone number on the screen after they showed the full frontal view," I teased him. "Your phone would be ringing off the hook."

"Same goes for you," he said, pointing at the screen, which was showing me from the waist up, boobs again in full view. "And speaking of perky nips, you’ve got them there."

"Oh, jeez," I mock-moaned.

"Those were good interviews," Dad said afterwards. "You guys did well."

"Yeah, and I’ve now shown my boobs on TV." I said. "Oy." Even Mom and Dad laughed at that. "You know what? I’m starving."

"Yeah, so am I," Jared admitted. "So, you wanna go show your boobs down at the Burger Hut?"

"You’re on," I laughed.

We went to the Burger Hut, and had a blast. Just after we got in, the crowd showed up, and we grabbed a table together. It was amazing how unselfconscious I was becoming about being in public nude.

Afterwards, we got in the car. "You want to go to your place?’ I asked him.

"Sure," he said—but, to my ears, was incredibly unenthusiastic about it.

"That didn’t sound like a ringing endorsement."

He smiled at me. "Honey, I’ll do anything for you."

"But you don’t want to," I said.

"Well, the truth is—I’m exhausted. It has been a very long day. It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that I’m afraid I’m going to fall asleep in the middle."

I laughed. "Oh, as long as that’s all. I was just taken aback a bit by your lack of enthusiasm."

"It’s not lack of enthusiasm. With you? Perish the thought. It’s lack of energy.’

"OK," I laughed. "Then I will let you off the hook."

"Well, I can try, if you need me to."

"No, actually, I’m fine. I had a few today, I do believe." He chuckled at that. "No, sweetie, I’m just fine. You may take me home. You will be making up for lost time, though."

"Oh, goody."

We pulled up in front of my house. "So, what time do you get up on a Saturday?"

"Eight. At the latest. And I’m going to sleep right when I get home, and I can only sleep so long no matter how tired I am, so I’ll be up by eight."

"Good," I grinned at him impishly. Then I kissed him. "Stay. I can make it to the door myself. Love you."

"Love you, too."

"See you tomorrow."

--End of part 8—