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From: "Peregrinf" <dfowler@catskill.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Beth Naked in School 7/12 (f/m exhib voy)
Date: Wed, 13 Mar 2002 22:10:05 -0500
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<15th attachment, "Beth Naked in School 7.doc" begin>

"Beth Naked in School" is a continuation of the "Naked in School"
series that began with Karen Wagner's "Karen Naked in School."
You might want to start there. Then follow up with my first
contributions to the series, "Carl Naked in School," and "Carl
Naked in School - Beth's Story," before you start this tale. All
can be found in the ASSM archives.

Beth Naked in School 7/12 (f/m exhib voy)

Wednesday School 

As he'd walked me home, the evening before, the cool night breeze
caressing our naked bodies, I tried to talk Carl into doing
school naked with me the next day, but he weaseled out of it, the
fink. He said he didn't want to distract anyone from the fine job
I was doing. 

Yeah, right! 

So anyway, the next day, there I was, outside the school, about
to strip for the usual audience. I hadn't thought it was possible
to feel more naked than I already had, but it is. You wouldn't
think that little bitty patch of hair down there would make that
much difference! Especially mine, which was - had been - kind of
thin, so if you looked hard you could pretty much see - well,
something, anyway, through the haze. 

Now, of course, you could see everything. I was feeling as
bashful on this, the third day of my exposure, as I had the first
morning. I was naked as a baby down there now! 

Also, `cause I was running late - well, ok, I did a touch up
shave to remove stubble - I hadn't bothered with underwear - no
bra, no panties, not even socks, though I had worn loafers, of
course. 

Okay, I'd told Carl a fib the day before. I could have shaved
myself, obviously. But don't you think it was much more fun
having Carl do it?

Anyway, I toed off my loafers, and dropped my skirt before I even
started to unbutton my shirt, which hung down almost, but not
quite far enough, to hide my new do - or "undo," if you prefer. 

Off came my blouse, and I was as naked as the day I was born,
except for my eye glasses and my little gold cross, that is.
Note, that is Naked - As - The - Day - I - Was - Born. Literally.


There was the usual clutch of boys, of course, as in probably
half the male population of the school, and this time the other
girls who were naked were there, too. From them I got some stares
and whispers. From the boys there were some whistles as I bundled
up my clothes and dropped them in the box. 

I almost flinched when I turned around and found Dave Meaghan
standing right in front of me, well inside my personal space,
grinning. "Nice job!" he commented. "Can I feel it?" 

Oh God! There was The Question. I gnawed on my lower lip, and
shot a look at Carl, but what could I do? Karen had set the
standard, after all. I nodded tensely. 

Remembering how she'd done it, I spread my feet a bit, and put my
hands behind my head. It lifted my tits, of course, what there is
of them, anyway, and left me totally vulnerable. 

Dave didn't mess around. He went right for my crotch, and his hot
palm cupped my naked pussy, making me go right up on my toes, I
tell you! His hand was kind of rough against my very sensitive
skin. And then he cupped my breast with his other hand, and all I
could do was stand there, with everyone watching, while he felt
me up, pinching my tittie and rubbing my cunny. 

Well, of course I was turned on! And of course he could tell,
since one of his fingers lined up right along my slit, where I
was juicing like mad! He slid his finger up into me, and I
actually humped my hips forward to give him better access as my
eyes began to cross. 

Then someone elbowed him aside and more pairs of hands were
exploring me, pinching my breasts and cupping and probing my
cunt. And someone was behind me, touching my ass, slipping their
finger into the crack, even, and teasing my - my - my anal
sphincter! 

Okay. My asshole. Asshole, asshole, asshole! There, you satisfied
now? 

Just as that nasty finger was about to worm its way up my butt I
was, as they say, saved by the bell and managed to pry myself
loose from my admirers, of which there were too many. I latched
on to Carl like a limpet as we headed in to class. 

"You looked like you were enjoying that," he commented. 

Uh oh. Was he jealous? I couldn't tell for sure, though I could
tell he was for sure turned on, from the lump in his pants. "I
was," I admitted, clutching his arm. "But not the way I enjoy it
with you, by a long shot," I assured him, managing to maneuver
his hand into my crotch as we made our way to our lockers. 

"Honest?" he asked, his fingers playing with my soupy quim. 

I went up on my toes to give him a kiss, humping his hand as I
did. "Honest!" I assured him sincerely. "I warned you it was
going to be a rough week, remember? It's you I love! I'll see you
later?" 

"You did, I remember. And, well, if you're happy, I guess that's
the most important thing for me. See you later." He removed his
hand from my crotch and then, with one of those little gestures
of his that can just make me melt, he sniffed his fingers,
painted the tip of my nose with my own juices, and then licked
his fingers clean. 

The morning went as normally as could be expected, I suppose.
Mademoiselle Duclos gave me a wink, and I couldn't help noticing
that I got a whole new set of looks in the hallway, of course,
thanks to Carl's tonsorial efforts. 

"Tonsorial." Did you ever wonder where that term for a haircut
came from? Well, I looked it up in my Funk and Wagnall's! It
comes from the Latin, tonsori, to shave! 

And here I thought it had something to do with barbershop quartet
singing. 

Anyway, things didn't start to go off the track until lunchtime,
when Stephanie sort of pulled me aside. 

"Uh, have you thought about it?" she asked hesitantly. 

"Thought about what?" I asked, confused. It had been a pretty
confusing couple of days. 

"About us," she explained, obviously upset that I'd forgotten.
"Never mind, I can tell...." 

"No!" I assured her quickly. "I just forgot, honest!" 

My mind was racing. After all, it hadn't been that long since I'd
been a virgin, never been kissed, and all that, and here I was,
contemplating a lesbian encounter? 

"Never mind," Stephanie insisted, obviously crushed, about to
turn away. 

I grabbed her arm, feeling, well, feeling awful at how she was
feeling. "No, wait." Taking a deep breath, I took the plunge.
"Yes, I do want to do it," I assured her. 

"Really?" 

I nodded, and, to emphasize my sincerity, I actually tugged her
hand into my crotch - my bare, naked, shaven crotch. "I do!
Stephanie, I told you yesterday, I love you. Not necessarily THAT
way, but - well, enough that if you still want to, well, I'd like
to - explore the situation a bit. I really would." 

"Really?" She looked relieved, and hopeful. 

"Really," I assured her. And I meant it. I did want to try it! 

"Uhm, are you busy this afternoon?" she asked hesitantly. 

"This afternoon?" Oh my, that was a bit sooner than I'd counted
on. Carl and I had planned an afternoon, Wednesday being the only
afternoon neither of us had anything after school this week. 

She nodded. "Uh. Nobody will be home, and I thought we could go
over to my house?" she ventured hesitantly. 

I saw Stephanie's lips quiver, and realized she had probably
worried about this all night, building herself up to ask. If I
said "not today," well, it would mean "not ever," because she'd
lose her nerve, or I'd lose my nerve, and, well, you see where
this is going. 

"Uh, okay," I agreed. I'd just have to work something out with
Carl. I hated the thought of standing him up, but I hated even
more disappointing Stephanie! "Yes, sure!" I added more
enthusiastically. "Meet me where I get dressed and we'll walk
home to your place together. I'll have to call my Mom when I get
there and tell her where I am, is all." 

Stephanie looked so relieved, and so eager! It reminded me of how
Carl had reacted when I'd said I'd go to the dance with him -
that was before we knew we'd be going naked, even. "Okay, great!
I'll see you then!" 

Now, of course, I was faced with the problem of breaking the news
to Carl. We'd already discussed Stephanie's proposition from the
day before, of course, since I could no way keep a secret like
that from him. I hadn't gotten a real clear reading from him
about how he felt about me and Stephanie - uh - "getting it on,"
but he understood Stephanie's problem, and he liked her, so I
didn't think it would be a problem. 

So I tracked him down between classes and explained the
situation. He got disappointed of course, and I was too, because
I knew he and I would have a Good Time. I wasn't really sure
about Stephanie and me having a good time, you see. 

Then he really surprised me. 

"Uh," he ventured warily, "I like Stephanie, too," he pointed
out. "Uh, do you think, maybe, uh, I could come along? Maybe -
well, she could - uh - have me for a comparison? Sort of like an
experiment, I could be the control?" 

Oh wow. Now that was not something I'd thought of. I mean, from
one on one we're suddenly talking menage au trois, as
Mademoiselle Duclos would say - a three-some? 

"Or I'd just watch," he put in quickly. 

Oh sure, I thought. But then I thought, why not? "Well, I'm okay
with it," I admitted, "but I'm not sure how Steph will feel about
it." 

"Oh." He was disappointed. 

"Look, meet us after school, usual place, and we'll ask her."
Besides, I thought, if the three of us headed off together no one
would think anything funny was going on, would they? Not that I
was into hiding much these days, but still, why advertise that
Stephanie and I were exploring an alternative life style, if you
see what I mean? 

"Okay!" Carl brightened up with that suggestion, so that was
settled, and I headed off to art class, ready to pose yet again,
only to have yet another curve thrown at me when I got there - a
bit late - and discovered we had a new student in the class. 

I'd seen Henry around, of course. Who hadn't? He was a senior,
and part of the school district's "Mainstreaming" program - in
case you hadn't guessed we are a very progressive school district
- for the handicapped, which Henry was! 

The kicker here was that Henry was blind! That's right, as in
"visually impaired," like in totally! From birth, no less. He
went the seeing-eye dog route - he had this real sweetheart of a
German Shepard mix, a bitch, named Dity, that's Die-Tee, as in
"Aphrodite," he said. The name was chosen by Dity's trainer, of
course. 

So what, you ask, was a blind guy - oh, he's a senior - doing in
drawing class? Well, I found out! 

"Beth, you know Henry, don't you?" the teacher introduced him. 

"Oh, sure. Hi, Henry. Hi Dity," I greeted his dog politely, but
didn't make any move toward her. "Can I pat her?" Always ask
before approaching a guide dog or helper dog! They may be "on
duty," and you shouldn't distract them, remember. 

Henry gave that lopsided smile the blind sometimes do. "Sure,
it's okay." 

"Thanks." Kneeling down, I gave Dity a good loving. Her nose was
cold, and she licked my tit, which made me giggle. 

"Henry's a sculptor," the teacher explained. 

"Really? I didn't know that. But, how can you? You're, uh, ...."

"Blind?" he finished for me. "Oh, sculpting is a very tactile art
form. You don't need to see to sculpt." 

"Really? I hadn't thought of that! That's neat!" I gave Dity a
last pat and stood up. She was showing signs of exploring parts
of my anatomy with her nose that I really didn't want her getting
into, if you know what I mean. 

"Yeah." Henry seemed a little nervous. 

"He was wondering if he could sculpt you," the teacher explained.


"Sculpt me?" The gears between my ears engaged with a crash and I
did a mental burn-out, you might say. 

You see, Henry sees with his hands. 

Yup, that's right. He reads Braille, of course, though he also
has gismo that translates text to speech, and if it's whiteboard
work someone is assigned to explain what's going on up on the
board. But when it comes to meeting people, he's a toucher. When
you first met him he asks, very politely, to "see" your face -
he'd done that with me, and his touch had been gentle as he'd
explored the contours of my forehead, eyes, cheeks, nose, chin,
even my lips and ears and hair. I knew, too, that he'd stored my
scent and the sound of my voice in his head, too, so he could
recognize me at a distance. 

"Sculpt how much of me," I asked. 

"All of you, of course," the teacher answered. 

Henry blushed! I'd never thought of blind people blushing, but
why would blindness eliminate that reflex, right? 

"Uh - well, I guess so," I agreed. I mean, it was a reasonable
request. I was already posing for the drawing class. How likely
is it a blind high school student is going to get a chance with a
nude model, after all? 

"But how long will it take? I can't stay after school, I have an
appointment today." 

"Oh, he'll do it during drawing class. We'll settle on one, easy
pose for you so we can carry it on through the period, and from
one day to the next for the rest of the week, now that we've done
the fast sketches," the teacher explained. "That gives us three
days." 

"I work in clay," Henry explained. "Then, if its good enough, I
might even do a bronze casting." 

"Oh. Wow!" The thought of me being immortalized in bronze was
really something else again! "Okay, sure!" 

Then I thought of him touching me all over, and almost had second
thoughts. But no, I wouldn't chicken out! After all, how many
people have a chance to be cast in bronze, nude or otherwise? 

"Sure," I said. "Let's do it." 

"Thanks a lot!" Henry's grateful and gentle touch on my hand told
me all I needed to know about how much this meant to him. 

So I found myself posing nude for the drawing class and Henry!
The teacher had snitched a sort of short, pseudo Grecian column
from someplace - one of those things they put busts on? - and I
stood next to it, resting my arm on it, standing with one foot
forward and pointed out just a little bit, my other hand just
hanging, a little like Michelangelo's "David," only without the
sling - and the dangling genitalia, of course, seeing as how I'm
lacking those.  

Henry was set up in front of me with a table and clay and stuff,
to one side, so he didn't block the students at their easels. I
was glad, because I'd be able to watch him work as I posed. 

You see, he could have been behind me. It didn't matter to him
where he was in terms of sight lines, of course. I noticed,
though, that he stood with his foot right against the platform I
was posing on, so he always knew where to step up, and it was
uncanny how unerringly he found me, though I suppose since the
platform was pretty small it wasn't all that hard. 

Anyway, while the others studied me with their eyes and began
their sketches, Henry came up to me to study me in the only way
he could. 

"Uh, sorry," he said as he touched my head. 

"It's all right," I assured him, tingling a the thought of what
was to come. 

I closed my eyes as he refamiliarized himself with my face, his
fingers brushing feather-light over my eyelids, my cheeks,
tracing my mouth and ears. 

Then his hands moved down my neck to my shoulders. 

"I just want to get a feel for how you're standing first," he
explained. He was sweet that way, always explaining what he was
doing. 

"Sure," I agreed as his fingers found their way down my arms to
my fingertips, tested the space between my arms and my body.
Kneeling he traced my hips and legs, then back up the inside of
my legs. 

It was hard not to move, because it did tickle a little, and when
he got close to my crotch - well, I - oh, you can guess. But I
managed to stay really still in spite of it. 

Then he went back to his table, and began with a wire frame - I
think he called it an armature - bending and shaping it to match
my pose. From time to time he came back and touched me again and
made a correction in the armature before he started smoothing
clay over the wires. 

His touch was light, shy, I tried to reassure him every time he
apologized, which was often. Dity laid her head down on her paws,
watching his every move. 

I wondered what sort of mental "image" he was building up of me
in his mind. Since he never had been able to see I guessed it
couldn't be visual. 

He didn't get beyond roughing things out that first day, of
course, so the touching was pretty general, just tracing the
general contours of my arms and legs. To tell the truth, I was
just a little bit disappointed, but realized as he draped a damp
cloth over his work that things would get more intimate as his
project progressed. 

Oh, during a break I did check out the work of the girl who had
concentrated so much on my pussy during the quick sketches. She'd
done sort of the same thing again, sketching me from my navel to
just below my crotch. I wondered what she'd say if she knew I was
going to probably get it on with Stephanie that very afternoon.
Was she gay? I was too shy to ask, of course, it not being the
kind of question one just pops out with, you know. 

Anyway, Steph and Carl were both waiting for me when I got out of
the building. They didn't seem to be talking about anything
important - like us, that is - so I just went for my clothes,
trying to ignore the crowd of gawkers that seemed to get as many
jollies out of watching me dress as undress. 

I looked at the skirt and blouse that made up the total of my
wardrobe, and decided the heck with it. With a shrug, I folded
them and stuffed them into my book bag. "You guys ready to go?" I
asked Steph and Carl as he took my book bag. 

He's such a gentleman! 

"Like that?" Steph asked, a little surprised, but not a lot.
She'd done her week, and I knew she'd walked home naked at least
once, and so had Carl, of course, during that week. It had become
a tradition. 

"Sure." I stepped between them, wrapping my arms through theirs
so we could walk with me between them. I wished all three of us
were naked, but that would have been a bit much to ask of them. 

Some cars passed, and honked, and I waved, but always restored my
grip on their arms, feeling protected and cared for between them.


"Do you mind if he comes along?" Steph asked at last. I guess
maybe they had talked before I'd gotten there. Maybe Steph had
even made it seem like it was her idea. Whatever. I was just
really glad to be with my two bestest friends. "Not if you
don't," I assured her. "And, well, if you and he want to do it,
well, that's okay with me, too. As long as you and I get to do it
first." 

Steph seemed to relax at that announcement, like she'd been
afraid Carl and I were going to cut her out of the party. "I'd
like that, maybe," she admitted. "I just don't know!" 

I squeezed her arm against my left boob. "Well then, I guess
you're going to find out, aren't you?" I squeezed Carl's arm
against my right boob. "Would you like to do it with her?" 

He nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing as he shot me a shy grin. 

"I've never - done it, you know," Steph admitted, blushing
furiously. "I mean, with either a girl or a boy. Even during my
week in The Program, no one asked me. Only one guy even wanted to
touch me, and he was pretty rough." 

"Oh, during The Program, no one's going to ask you to do that!" I
assured her. "It wasn't anything to do with you. It's just, well,
that goes beyond a reasonable request, you see." 

"Oh." 

"The first time Beth and I did it was a first for both Beth and
me," Carl admitted. "Everyone has to have a first time." 

"Unless they decided to become a nun or something," I put in.
"Let's hurry! I'm horny! I posed for Henry in art class today -
he's sculpting me." 

"You mean Henry the blind guy?" Steph gaped. 

"The same," I admitted. 

"But he sees with his hands!" Steph pointed out. 

I giggled. "Why do you think I'm horny? Come on, let's run!" 

They took my hands, and we ran the last block like we were still
kids, my naked titties jiggling, the sun hot on my bare breasts,
the air stroking me all over. 


<15th attachment end>

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