We were picking melons in Principal Hertel's patch. A patch is a plot of about ten acres. People who live at the edge of town have room for a patch between their house at the street and the lake. The principal grows watermelons on his. When we pick the melons, a truck drives down the middle of the patch. We all spread out on both sides of the truck and walk along beside it. We cut the melons off the vines and toss them to the next person closer to the truck
Ever catch a watermelon with your boobs? Not recommended. I wear the hard cup bra I do most sports in. It keeps my melons up and protects me. I can let the watermelons hit my belly, hold them with my arms while I turn around, then use my legs to toss them on. Shorts and sneakers complete the usual dress for a hot September day.
When the truck got to the end of the patch, it turned back. We pickers kept on walking right into the lake. Aah, that felt good. It felt even better when Eric came up, unfastened that bra and my boobs floated out right into his hands. He was messing around with me the night before, so he knows what I like.
I like it, mind you. I just don't get it. What's with this all the time picking me up? Well I get hands on my ass, I get my legs around the guy's waist, I get my boobs grabbed and sometimes I get a hard dick poking up between my legs. I like what I get, but I don't understand it. Wait ... I understand what I like - it feels good and sooo sexy. I just don't understand their urge to pick me up so much.
He picked me up with one hand and got the other one on a breast. My nipples popped right out. They don't cover much of my boob, but those nipples come way out when they get hard. They're sensitive enough to get hard right away when I like what the boy is doing. I really liked what Eric was doing. He held me with one hand under my ass, filled the other hand with my boob and let my tongue wander around inside his mouth.
He was holding me tight and did it slowly so I didn't notice, but he carried me into deeper water. Principal Hertel came out with a fistful of money. That's how we do it - cash pay on the spot. (Of course we all pay exactly the right taxes.) All the pickers waded out of the lake to get their pay except ... Eric dropped me in water over my head. I was almost pissed, but I did like what he did to my chest. As it was, it took me a while to swim in the sneakers and to re-fasten the bra before I got out of the water. I was last. Eric and Principal Hertel smiled at me as I was struggling. That's when I should have spotted the setup.
The principal paid me, then said almost as a casual afterthought, "Oh, Debra? Monday in school - leave all your clothes in your locker. Mrs Canaris will have you bring the attendance to the office. See me then, 'kay?"
He turned and walked away leaving me with my mouth open. That's it. That's how we do it. The principal usually calls the Program participant on the phone sometime on Saturday and says something like that. There's no surprise announcement, escort to the office or ceremonial first stripping. There's no lockbox. Everyone knows who's in the Program. The participant just goes naked like everyone expects.
Hi, everyone. I'm Debra Fuchs and I'm naked in school. Well, I'm naked everywhere this week. It just started today. We don't usually write journals like this anymore, but I get to be special. Great, huh? I'll get to today in another chapter, but I need to tell about me, our town and our Program first.
People around town call me lots of things. Deb, Debs and Debbie are all normal for someone named Debra.
Bra is the second half of my name. People, girls mostly, call me that when I don't wear one. It's their way of telling me I should. Boys call me that when they want me to take it off.
Fucks happened when a teacher new to town mispronounced my last name. It should be 'Fyewks.' The irony is that I don't - fuck, that is. At least not yet, but I am in the Program. How many times have you heard of virginity surviving a week in the Program?
People all over town call me Shortstop. That's the position I play on baseball teams. Not girls' softball - baseball with the boys. There's another reason. I like to make out and let the boys get to my chest. You know - second base. If they try to get past second, I call a short stop to the making out. The part they can't understand is that I perch on a leg or something and rub myself off while they're doing my boobs. I'm somewhere between second and third - shortstop.
I'm also short - about 5 feet tall. My body looks mostly well proportioned. When I'm standing all by myself against a plain background, I look slim and trim with just the right curves around my waist, hips and legs. When you consider that I'm short, that really means my body is small, petite and pixie-like. I go with it by wearing my hair short with a pointy pixie cut. Yes, I'm going with the stereotype. My face is cute that way, too. I think I'm baby-faced with round, soft cheeks and full lips. Those cheeks and lips, too, but this time, I'm talking about my face. Lots of moms around town pinch it and tell me I'm so cute. I don't argue.
The disproportional part of my body is my chest. Can you say 'top heavy?' People around here find it easy to compare me with livestock, cows mainly. This rack would fit well on an average size girl, but on me it measures out to a D. They're not that huge. Really. They would fit fine on a bigger girl. Becky's are as big and don't look top heavy on her. I just don't have enough frame for the rack. The boobs are firm and stand up off my chest. They're round with plenty of jiggle and sway so everyone knows they're real. They just stick out so damned far. They're out to the front and to the sides. When I'm standing in a bikini or halter without a bra, the boobs are out wider than my arms.
Most of the time I wear a supporting bra in a style that leaves a lot of cleavage showing. That's how I like it with most buttoned shirts showing three open buttons. I have some push-ups that make cleavage up to my collarbones that looks great with scoop neckline t-shirts. I do cheerleading during the parts of the year I'm not in baseball. Big tits get in the way of throwing or get sore with all that bouncy jumping. When I'm cheerleading or playing baseball, I wear a hard cup bra that protects and holds those things still and in - out of the way of my glove and throwing arms.
I'm sixteen and a sophomore in our four-year highschool. I'm popular with the students I'm nice to. Those are the ones I respect. I'm sheer terror to anyone I don't like, but there aren't very many of those. I can be a terror to anyone who doesn't do a good job in the Program, too. Our town is so small that we all know everyone else. I've been in a club, sport, church or worked with everyone in the school and most of the ones in eighth grade. They all know what will get me pissed and it's not a joke about my name.
Our small town is in the middle of farm country. The town and the school serve the South end of the county. Kids from all the farms around bus or drive to the school. There are still only about 100 students in all four grades. I did say 'small' didn't I?
Work, school and sports take up most of my time. Highschool kids are a good source of cheap labor for farms and patches around the town. Summer and weekend days and some evenings after school are work time. That's how we do it here. We like to pick up some cash, but it isn't all work. Every farm kid has his or her favorite place - behind this shed or in that barn loft. Many times I'd be helping a boy on his farm which led to a lot of fun. When we came in from making out, the moms checked me out. I'd have big nipples bulging in my shirt and he'd have a much bigger bulge in his jeans. I get a lot of face pinches from the moms that way.
Spring and Summer are the times for baseball - the school team then Pony League after school is out. I'm really well coordinated. Even with my short legs, I get a start after ground balls, get them surely and I'm strong enough to throw a bullet to first base. I made the team my freshman year, as expected. I didn't expect so much playing time. The senior who was starting in front of me had an accident. The opposing shortstop stepped on his hand when he slid into base in the first game. He couldn't field or bat with his hand in a cast. I got to play. I have this microscopic strike zone and I can place-hit. I got on base a lot. Late in the game, the senior got to pinch-run for my short little legs. We both played in enough games to letter.
In Fall football season and Winter basketball, I do cheerleading. You have one guess who gets thrown into the aerials and is at the top of the pyramid. I can do rolls, flips and spins in the air. I jump to the top of the pyramid from a minitramp and I'm working on doing a flip on the way up. We're expecting to do good things in the state competition this year. I'm really glad Becky, the big girl who throws and catches me, is my best friend.
It's not all work and sports. We have our parties and do a lot of swimming in the lake. That lake surrounds the town on three sides. It's great for boats, waterskiing, fishing and swimming. There's one of the beaches where highschool students hang out. It's right across First Street from our house, so I'm there a lot.
My family is just Dad. He's the chief deputy in charge of the sheriff station in town. Mom was killed by a drunk driver when I was ten. Don't drive drunk in Dad's part of the county. It isn't healthy. He took a while to get over Mom's death. He didn't forget her, but he's ready to get on with his life now. He's had some girlfriends, but nothing permanent yet. I like to meet them and see their embarrassment at breakfast after their first night here. I think Dad forgets to tell them about me just to see their reaction. Maybe it's part of finding the right one.
With the small town and school, our Program runs a little differently. We wear the standard uniform for every sport. The Program kid has to do everything naked including sports, except for protective gear. That's not unusual, but we haven't yet had a football player in the Program during football season. When a participant was in a sport that's too active to let boobs or balls bobble, the coach just put that player on the bench. Principal Hertel learned quickly. Now he tries to plan the whole year around the sports.
The Program is required for graduation, so most of the participants are seniors. Taking out for exam and short weeks, there are about 30 participants a year. There are about 25 seniors, give or take. The principal can make adjustments for large or small classes. Usually, only a few non-seniors go naked for a week. The odds were I had two more years to get some experience and be ready for my Program week.
I'm in cheerleading and baseball that cover the whole year. I'm doomed and I'll get caught in an active week no matter how he tries. My only off seasons are during exam weeks when nobody is in the Program. The cheerleaders have a pep rally and the first football game coming this week, but we aren't deep into preparation for competitions. There's no way I could play baseball naked - not with these boobs in the way. I'll take it at this time of year, but it's two years too early.
The Program has been running in our little school for a long time. I can barely remember the first year and the mess they made of it. It wasn't rebellion or objections to the nudity. Quite the opposite. The outreach and volunteers worked so well that almost 80 students were going naked. The businesses didn't dare to offer discounts or anything. They didn't mind all the tourists that a town full of naked students attracted. Preachers welcomed the naked participants who tried to do outreach in church. When too many did it every week, they preached that it would work better as a one time event. The problem happened with students who really needed the Program. They were flying under the radar. They would go naked as they had to, but as a quiet part of the big crowd. They got no attention.
Now we use a different set of rules. Around town, they're not written rules, just the way we do it - what everyone expects. Only one person goes naked in the whole town, and the participant goes naked all over town. People from the interstate highway who stop at the gas stations or restaurants don't count. They can be as naked as they want. All the students go clothed all the time and so do all the adults who live here. That includes the lake, school, churches, sports and working. The one participant gets all the attention and gets it all day for the whole week.
Rules for the Program in school are written and strictly enforced. They're a little different, too. Nakedness in school is no big deal. We all see each other in the shower and bathrooms every day. That's not quite the same as going around town bare, but I'll get used to that. With me the big deal is touching. On Monday, there's no touching of any kind. Nobody is allowed to even ask. Some horndog would say yes and blow the precedent for everyone. On Tuesday, touching is a reasonable request, but the participant can turn it down. Stand by on Wednesday - here it comes. I had five days notice. After all the Program touching I've done, there will be hands in my pussy and probably more than hands.
I kept it quiet for the rest of Saturday. Dad and I did a little work in the barn. Mom used to raise horses. Now the barn is empty except for what I do in there. It was time for some of the old straw to go, so we cleaned it out. That's one way Dad tries to stay close to me - doing things together.
I spent some time on homework, too. I started practicing by doing the homework bare. Teachers are easy on the homework for Program kids and even easier if we make an effort. I did a few geometry problems and wrote my poem for English. The poem is supposed to be about something that's emotional for us. Mine is about winning the baseball championship.
Dad shouted to me on his way out to work. He works late afternoons and evenings - the busiest times for police. He could have come into my room. The door was open. I was sort of ready to break it to him if he caught me practicing. He didn't. He just left. I finished the poem and decided to go swimming. A lot of noise was coming from the beach across the street.
I got into my little bikini. The bottom of this one covers about half my ass when it's dry and the triangle in front is a little smaller than it should be. It just covers the little triangle of hair where I trim it on my mound. Lots of my mound is bare. The triangles of the top cover the middle of my boobs, but leave a lot hanging out to the sides. All that stuff that shows outside my arms is bare and loose. Boys love it. Girls call me Bra.
Eric was there, in waist-deep lake water tossing a Frisbee with some other guys. I waded out to him. Water to his waist is up to my boobs. I looked up at him and tried to scowl. It was probably more like a squint in the bright glaring sunlight.
"You knew, bastard!" I accused.
He smiled at me the way he and the principal did when I was getting out of the water earlier. Of course he knew. Eric is a senior, a really tall basketball player, outfielder on the baseball team and was last week's Program participant. He did a great job with relief in class, shower sex and his parade. He even allowed touching on Tuesday, at least by me. He got as much reward from that as I can give. Lots of smiles, kisses and chest time this weekend.
He got to picking me up Friday night. Boys do that a lot - pick me up. Glad I like it. He picked me up and carried me away from the beach - across the street to my house. Everyone knows Dad is very busy on Friday nights. Saturdays, too.
Now Eric responded to this accusation and maybe gave in to an urge. He picked me up ... again. I'd worn a more modest bikini Friday. He got a handful of stretchy spandex then and nylon shorts Saturday morning. This bikini is light, loose and skimpy. When I take the first step after the bottom gets wet, the whole back falls into my crack. It gets like a thong. I usually leave it that way on the teen beach, but pull it back into place if I go anywhere else. There's no written law about that, just what everyone expects.
This time it gave Eric a handful of bare ass when he picked me up. He clutched at me and his fingers dug in. When he held me against him, I felt his hard cock, up and excited. That's pretty much the way I left him the night before when I made him stop. I got a better feel of it this time. He got the same feel of my chest this time. That bikini top doesn't hide much and he could feel the rest right through it. I think I was almost purring when I kissed him. I really do like the picking me up when it's this good.
He broke it with, "Principal Hertel wanted to tell you privately. Lots of participants are embarrassed by their reaction before they have the weekend to think about it. He wanted me to delay you. It was easy to figure out why - and fun to do the delaying."
That little group was mostly baseball team, so I fit right in. I got a spot in shallower water and did as much splashing around as I could when I went for the Frisbee. The guys all watched my boobs jiggle and sway. They were watching instead of catching the Frisbee when I had to put the bikini top back on my nipples.
Some of their girlfriends were sunning on beach towels. They had to join us and all greeted me with "Hi, Bra." I said something normal to them. They all know I'm just showing stuff I can't hide and I'm not making a play for their boyfriends. Play in the water got rough and rowdy after that - all normal for our highschool group.
Supper, and more, with Eric that evening was at my house. We walked, but he was a little stiff and his swimming shorts were bulging. I made us a simple wurst with mac & cheese. Sports drinks were nice after so much time in the sun.
Couch and chest time had to wait until the dishes were clean and put away. That's not for him or even for Dad. Saturday night is the time Dad's most likely to bring someone home. Her first impression of me is better when I don't leave a mess.
I was still in that bikini and giving Eric a show - thin strings at my neck and around my back made me look bare. The bottom was deep into my crack. From the back, I really was bare. Eric didn't help with the washing. He sat and watched. I made sure he saw me shake my ass and the boobs he could see from behind me. They shook with every rub and when I reached for the towel. I heard him sighing and maybe a little rubbing on his shorts. That made me dance and bounce even more. The not helping counted against him, though.
This session started off as a replay of Friday evening. He was totally excited when we finally got to the couch. He put his hand under me when I went to sit beside him. He got that handful of bare ass he wanted. I got squeezing, wiggling fingers on my ass and started to get wet.
He lifted me ... again. I swung my leg, turned and straddled his leg. I thrust out my chest. He took the bait ... er, invitation ... and took off my top. His hands went all over my inviting boobs, rubbing my whole chest to excite himself and tweaking the nipples to excite me. The way my nipples stick out so far when they get stiff, boys have no doubt when they're getting to me.
Eric lifted me a little and bent to use his mouth. He licked at my stiff nipples and then sucked them into his mouth one at a time. He worked the nipples with his tongue while he sucked in as much breast as he could. I liked it as I always do. I was purring, moaning and very wet.
He put me down straddling his leg again. He ran his hands around my back, stroked by shoulders, arms and belly. I started rubbing back and forth on his leg. The bikini bottom looked like it was in place, but it was being crammed into my slit. Eric's leg worked on my legs and outer lips and the bikini pressed inside, but not too far. It was all working and I wasn't hitting my clit on anything.
He'd been all over my upper body and I was rubbing fast when his hands got back to my tits. The sharp tingles in my nipples were almost like pain, but not quite. They sent me over. I squealed and shuddered in a little orgasm. It was better than the ones I give myself because he was paying attention to more of my body. I'm sure he'd figured out about the orgasm Friday night and really looked disappointed when the short stop happened.
Friday evening had ended when he opened his pants. His cock was up, hard and nothing new after his Program week. He needed relief. I don't give relief. I'm often a reason guys need it, but I haven't ever given relief in school or out. I'd sent him home to handle it himself.
Saturday, I'd got myself off and he really needed it. My knee was just an inch from his crotch. I slid forward gently and pressed that knee into him. No, not like that - gently. The pressure at his root sent him over. He creamed his swim shorts. He was messy and he was embarrassed, but he got off.
He accepted my offer to wash him. We got in the shower and his shorts came off. The shower rinsed them out just like it rinsed him off. I used a little soap as an excuse to fondle him again. That was nothing new. I'd done that in the shower Tuesday. This time, he was spent and stayed soft. He washed me, mostly as payback. My areolas were puffed out like cones. With them that way, my nipples only protrude about half an inch. They're way more sensitive, though. He got me purring with just a little rubbing there. I stopped him from washing me below the waist. It was over after that.
He said a compliment and then something that actually made sense, "You and your chest are both wonderful and a lot of fun, but that's not all I want. It's also rough to build a relationship during someone's Program week. Maybe after?"
I just grunted and acted disappointed. He was trying to dump me, after all. Eric isn't my idea of a steady boyfriend. There's someone who is and I hope to be with him after my Program week. Eric left and I spent the rest of the evening on homework. Hope the teachers appreciate it.
Sunday morning I got up fairly late. I was making breakfast and practicing for the Program. Yep, I was naked all over the kitchen. I was beating batter and sizzling bacon when a big blond woman walked in. She was wearing one of Dad's t-shirts. Yes, I know his clothes since I wash them every week. The shirt came below her pussy, but didn't cover the folds at the bottom of her ass. Her rack jiggled a lot in there when she caught up short at the sight of me. Her hand went over her mouth when it dawned on her that the body she was looking up and down was naked.
"Hi, I'm Debra," I announced as I bounced over to her.
Yes, I was trying to get the upper hand and take advantage of the surprise Dad sets for these ladies. I also knew that I jiggle more than she does when I bounce like that. I offered her my hand and she sort of shook it. Her face was one big question mark.
"You are ...?" she asked like someone who asks questions, but wasn't sure of it in that situation.
"Debra ... daughter ... sixteen ... highschool ... in the Program," I said holding my hands out to the sides a little. "And you are?"
She may be an adult, but she was in my home and owed me answers.
"Ingrid ... deputy trainee ... twenty three ... out of the state academy ... did the Program," she patterned her answer after mine.
Maybe she's not as slow as some of these bimbos, but then she's screwing a co-worker who's probably her boss.
"So Dad's training you?" I prodded.
She named another officer as her trainer, not Dad. The way she says it, the whole shift set him up - had him walk in on her in the locker room. Ooh. That's something I can use on all of them.
"I'm a little scared about sleeping with a chief deputy. After last night, I think it's worth the risk. Maybe I won't be assigned to this station. Maybe I will. Would you mind?" she asked.
She'd just given me stuff to use on Dad, so I gave her a straight answer, "No. No new Mom, but I'll take a woman in the house who makes Dad happy. Has to be a good woman, though."
"Do I qualify," she asked with an insecure squeak.
No bully gets through middle school without learning to spot intimidation and a chance at dominance.
"Lets check you out," I said and reached for her.
I pulled the t-shirt up to get a look at the conditioning of her belly and at those boobs she jiggled at me. I couldn't get it much higher than that. Ingrid is a big girl. To my great surprise, she put her arms over her head and bent at the waist. I went with that and pulled the shirt all the way off. Dad had scored big. This babe is gorgeous and built with solid legs, curvy hips, a long strong waist, square shoulders just the right size and more-than-handful boobs high on her chest. She must spend a lot of time in the conditioning room. Those boobs looked swollen and so did the pussy that ran down from the little line of hair over her mound. Maybe I just expected her to be swollen, knowing what she'd been doing with Dad.
Ingrid walked across the kitchen to the empty coffee pot. That may have been as much to get coffee as to show me her solid back and firm round ass. I got out the coffee can and let her make it. I had pancakes to do. She talked while the coffee perked and I beat those lumps out of the batter.
"I did the Program back in highschool - in the city. Actually liked it after the first two days," she told.
She went into some of her experiences and how her week cost her virginity. That was the thing about liking it after two days.
"Practice is good, Deb. Experience is better. Do you get much?" she asked at the end.
Uh-oh. The truth could be an advantage for her.
"Enough, and not all by myself," I said and let her interpret it.
Wouldn't you know that's when dad came in. He couldn't help but hear that last answer of mine. He knows my reputation and that I'm still that way. He figured out about the Program when he saw us both naked. I'm pretty sure this is the most he's seen of me since I've been out of diapers.
Ingrid talked some about family support for a Program participant. Dad just smiled.
"There's plenty of support here - from family and everyone else in town," he assured her, then asked me, "Is your shot up to date, Debbie?"
I had to figure it out. I take three-month contraceptive shots and, yes, it was almost due. I could get the next one any time now. I promised to see the doctor and went back to the cooking. Ingrid poured coffee for us all and sat with Dad. I served them breakfast and sat when mine was ready.
Dad kept his pajama pants on and kept his eyes on both of us. He must have liked the eyeful of Ingrid. He only glanced at me when I was talking. When breakfast was finished, he dragged Ingrid back to his bedroom. I couldn't find the bottle of pancake syrup when I was cleaning up. Dammit. His sheets are hard enough to wash without getting gooey food all over them.
I checked down the street every so often. Dr. Goldberg lives in the next block and his clinic is open any time his car is in the driveway. That includes Sunday, but very little of Saturday. His car was out when I checked at ten. I dashed right over. The door to his office was open, so he saw me come in. There wasn't anyone else to wait for.
"Hi, Debra," he greeted. "How can I help?"
Yes, he knows me. Not from a lot of professional visits. It's a small town, remember? We all know each other.
"My shot," I answered. "It's almost up."
He got my file and checked.
"Yes, you can get another one, but it's a little early. Are you ready to be active?" he asked.
"I'll be active even if I'm not ready. It's my Program week," I explained.
"Riiiight," he got it. "It's been a couple of years. We'd better do a full exam. Strip to your panties. I'll be with you in a minute."
He showed me to an examining room. I had my t-shirt off before we got there and dropped my shorts before he could turn his back. I wasn't wearing panties or a bra.
"Program week, remember? It's not like modesty will do me any good now," I said.
He got the stethoscope and all the other stuff and went over me rather well. He drew some blood and had me pee in a cup. The best ... worst? ... came last. He and Becky are the only ones who know about this, at least until you all read it. He made this the last part for a reason.
I stretched out my whole five feet on his table and put my feet up in the stirrups. You know where this is going now, don't you? I tried to relax. Until he touched me, I did relax. His fingers ran over my pussy just enough for a doctor to do the exam. The problem is when he went inside.
"Yyyeeeeeaaaaaaaaahhhh," I screamed.
The next thing I knew I was sitting up against my knees with my feet still in the stirrups. I have no idea how long that was after the scream. I was shaking all over, gasping for breath and my heart was pounding. My areolas and nipples were out and so was my clit. My clit grows, throws off its hood and comes out for its share when something stimulates my vagina. My whole pussy was wet and so was the doctor's hand. I think I squirted him. This was way more than I ever get when I do myself or rub off on a boy. I make sure of that.
This is my secret problem - the one that's going to cause me all the trouble in the Program. I'm hypersensitive. Any touch on my clit or in my vagina feels like an electric jolt all over my body. It puts me out like I was hit with a stungun. Oh, it feels good - maybe better than I hear about how a strong orgasm feels. When I did that to myself, I couldn't keep going and enjoy it. The jolt just blows my mind away and I don't keep rubbing. When I rub just my lips, the feeling keeps going and builds to an orgasm. Those aren't strong orgasms, but I like them better when they last longer.
"Well," the doctor said as he washed his hands. "Still the same old Debra."
Dr. Goldberg was the first to set me off like that. He was taking care of a problem I had with tampons back when I was twelve. He had to give me a shot to get enough anesthetic in the right place.
"Have you had many chances to get used to that feeling?" he asked with a look of concern.
"None," I answered. "Nobody gets to touch inside there."
"You know what's going to happen this week. I can give you something to desensitize. You could use it for the week without side effects," he offered.
"The Program is about accepting our bodies and how they work. I'll just have to go through the last three days unconscious," I declined.
I put the clothes back on, thanked the doctor after he gave me the shot and went home. I made a quick stop in the barn to get the compressor going, then went in to lunch. Ingrid and Dad were there making salad. They were both naked, cleanly showered and the syrup bottle was back on the shelf. This was a first - being around Dad when both of us were bare. A good thing about the Program is that I've seen lots of naked guys. One of the sort-of-good things is that I've seen enough guys to make comparisons. Lets just say I could see why Ingrid was sticking around.
We all had the salad naked. No, we put dressing on the salad. We were naked while we ate it. That was one of the jokes we made. Lots of others were about going naked in the Program, showering, bouncing body parts and where hands go.. Some of them were to try to scare me about what kids do to the participants. Those two nudged and poked at each other trying to make me the brunt of the jokes. All they did was make their jiggly parts jiggle at me.
"Guys! I'm the one who does those things every week. If someone is having a bad Program week, I'm the one who makes it hell," I told them. "I know exactly what to expect in return this week. Maybe they'll invent something new, but I doubt it."
I went back to the garage after lunch and started working with something Dad set up last year for cheerleader training. I have a minitramp like I use to bounce up to the top of the pyramid. The loft in the barn is just the right height and there's no rail around it. I count a good landing if the balls of my feet hit the edge of the loft, the landing is light and it sticks. Lots of practice here got me where I can hit the girls' shoulders without knocking down the whole pyramid.
There's an airbag like stunt people use for movies. That compressor I started keeps it pumped full. It takes a while to fill the first time. It's under the edge of the loft. It used to save me when I missed a lot of landings. Now I fall back onto it after the good ones.
I started practice by putting on a hard cup bra. It surrounds each boob and holds them still. I use my arms to drive a flip or twist on the way up and really don't need boobs in the way.
Dad and Ingrid came out to watch. Dad had put on shorts. He could be seen from two streets and the lake and men aren't allowed to go naked - not outdoors anyway. Ingrid was still bare. I think Dad was trying to show me off to his new girlfriend again. Ingrid was surely trying to show herself.
My first jump was straight up and it worked. I did a light landing in the right place, explained it briefly to Ingrid and fell back onto the bag. I did my second jump with a flip. That brought applause from Ingrid. She also admitted doing a little cheerleading and wished she could do my jumps.
"Now, how is that going to work in your Program week?" Dad asked.
Off came the bra and I jiggled my chest at him. "We'll see, but don't expect much."
Hey, he'd jiggled his dick at me all through lunch.
I tried a straight jump with no flip or twist. The jump and landing went well, until ...
"Yeouch!"
What goes up must come down and that includes the boobs on my chest. The jump flung them up high. They bounced hard after even a light landing and that hurt. Worse, they bobbled back and forth. That threw me off balance. I waved my arms and tried to dig in with my toes. Didn't work. I fell off the loft. The airbag earned its keep again.
I glared at Dad, at my bra and at my boobs as I walked to the starting place. On the next jump, I crossed my arms under my boobs just as I landed. I didn't cover anything, but my arms caught those big round things before they bounced. It didn't hurt. I couldn't balance without the arms, though. I fell off again. I think Dad heard me muttering. I wasn't worried. They were all words I'd learned from him.
"Think the bra might make it as protective equipment?" Ingrid asked.
"Not likely. They're real strict here," I answered. "I'll work on balance without waving my arms some more."
"We'll leave you to it, Debbie," Dad said. "We'll have to be getting to work."
They didn't have to go to work for an hour or more. In fact, Dad's patrol car was still in the driveway an hour and a half later. See what example I'm getting at home? That's not why I'm still a virgin.
I did a lot more jumps - all straight up and ending with my boobs caught in folded arms. I got to where I could land the way I want and catch my boobs. There was no way to flip or twist, though. Those tries always ended with my face on the loft floor or my back on the airbag.
I got hot and tired, gave up and went swimming. Yes, I had to dress. I put on my bigger stretchy bikini. This bottom has a full seat in back, legs cut high to the waistband at the sides and a triangle as big as it needs to be in front. It's cut like my favorite bikini undies. The halter-like top has strong, stretchy straps from my neck to panels around the outsides of my boobs and then under them. It pulls them in and up. It has a thin, not-so-strong cloth making an angle over my nipples from outside to bottom. It makes a lot of cleavage and shows it all. Nipple bumps show under the thin part when I get excited. That's my favorite style of bra, too. I have lots of those. This swimsuit feels good because I'm used to it from all my other clothes.
I walked briskly to the teen beach across the street without much bouncing. There were several groups doing fun things - tossing Frisbee, jumping off the diving raft or waterskiing. An extension of North Street is a boat launching ramp. It's in the middle of our beach and lots of skiing starts there. The diving raft caught my attention.
Kurt was there. Kurt Schuler is the guy I like. Really like. Always smiling at him like. Wet for him like. I'm always nice to him. I think he's the only one in our class I didn't beat up sometime in grade school or middle school. He's sooo cute and he's another one that comes away on the good side of shower comparisons. He's in football, baseball and a lot of my classes.
Okay, here's the secret. Kurt is the one I want for my first time. I thought I'd have a couple more years to get him interested. Now I'm trying to launch myself at him in a hurry. It'll happen - or not - before anyone reads this. I'll let you know.
I launched on Sunday - into the lake and out to the raft. We both smiled at the other and did a lot of diving and swimming together for the rest of the afternoon. I made sure he got good views down my cleavage and he took them. When we sat to rest, I sat right up against him and he stayed there. I was making my moves on him and wishing he'd make some moves on me.
I asked him to come over to the house, but I knew he wouldn't. It was too late. He had to go to work. He turned and left just as I was stepping close to give him a little kiss. Dammit.
The evening for me was a simple supper, some TV and more homework. I got the rest of math and English ready for the week. Chemistry is supposed to be lab work. No, we don't experiment on Program participants in chemistry labs. I just don't know the experiment results yet, so I can't do the writing.
I was thinking of Kurt when I turned out the light and got into bed. I was practicing again. I left off the shorts and tank top I usually sleep in. Thoughts of Kurt and what I want him to do got my hands started doing most of that. I was flat on my back, rubbing my nipples and my pussy. It kept getting better and better. My nipples were out and lips were swelling. My fingers got to my inner lips, but not too far inside. They were wet and they tingled sooo good. This was one of the times the excitement made my clit come out. I was careful not to touch it because the shock would end the rubbing. I wanted to keep the feeling going. I lay there rubbing and moaning as the excitement built.
I just thought of the Program a little as I got close to climax. I decided to give my clit a try. Just when I came, I clamped my hand down tight on that button sticking out. I exploded without even moving my hand over my clit. It was so much more intense than the little orgasm I usually get. It was also a lot shorter. My hands pulled away, I screamed and thrust my hips up into the air. My back arched until I was up on my feet and shoulders as far as I could go. Every muscle was tense and shaking. I don't know how long that lasted. The arch turned to a sit-up sometime after that.
I was sitting up when I got my senses back. As usual when I get the shock, I don't remember what happened in the orgasm. The results were as usual this time. I was shaking all over and felt hot and flushed. My areolas were like puffy cones and that's a lot more than a little rubbing does for them. My pussy lips felt huge, not just a little swollen. I felt the pressure of my swollen clit, too. Those parts were all rather sexy and I'd stopped thinking about Kurt. The way it made me lose my mind is another story.
I lay back down thinking of how my Program week will go when the touching starts. They'll find out. They'll get my weakness. I am sooo doomed.