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From: Geff Oh <geffo3@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Pam NIS.  Monday Evening  (mf, Ff)
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Date: Sat, 29 Jan 2005 12:10:04 -0500
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<1st attachment, "Pam_03.zip" begin>


 - <zipped file 'Pam_03MondayE.txt'>
Pamela, eagerly NIS


Chapter 4.  Monday After Classes


I was ready to see a lot of naked guys.  That's how it's supposed to work 
in the boys' locker room, right?.  Not this time.  The sign on the door 
said to report to the bleachers in the gym for locker assignments.  
Shoulda known.

When we got in there, Crystal was talking to Amy, Rochelle and Brooke, 
"... with one hand and THREW him into his locker.  He was still banging 
away in there when we came back from lunch.  He stayed far away and very 
quiet after someone let him out."

"Ooh.  Here are those touchy-feely freshmen now.  You guys really like 
that, don't you?" asked Brooke.

"You saw us at lunch, Brooke.  It's sexy and sooo much fun," Emily 
enthused.

"So did you get laid today?" Crystal asked her.

"No.  Still a virgin, but my outlook on that is changing," Emily 
answered.

"How many time did you do it now, Pam?" Amy asked.

"Twice.  Fingers got me close another two times," I bragged.

"We haven't been inviting it, but if it's that much fun I might see what 
I can get," said Brooke.

The sophomore program people got there then and we went to sit with the 
junior and senior boys.  Steve gave me a smile and a little blush.  
Crystal sat by Brian and they held hands.  Hmmm.  Progress.

Coach Reeves began speaking, explaining that she was the Athletic 
Director for Lincoln High.  She's been teaching and coaching the longest.  
The head football coach Mr. Johnston is older, but he didn't start 
teaching until he finished a pro football career.  Too bad his knees will 
never be the same.  She introduced the cross country running coach, the 
JV and ninth grade coaches for volleyball and football.

"Before we start in on assigning lockers, we have to talk about how 
sports at Lincoln relate to the Program.  You can tell I like and support 
it with me being naked and all," she said and waited for the cheers to 
die down.  "Coach Johnston tells me he wishes nudity was legal for men 
and he could join us.  The point is that we are going to do what we can 
to make the Program work well among athletes and make sports practical 
for Program participants.  Coach Johnston, tell us about football 
please."

"The big deal is uniforms," he started.  "The Program allows participants 
to wear things for safety, but not for modesty.  The rules of the various 
sports also have to be considered.  The state may have screwed up by not 
overriding the uniform rules of the sports.  Even if they did, uniforms 
have their place.  How would football work if both teams' players looked 
white, black and all those shades in between?  In fast games where 
players mix together, the color of the uniform is important to good play.  
In football, lower body pads are sewn into the pants.  We can't just 
leave them off.  Football will be played in full uniform.  This isn't the 
players' choice, it's the coach's instruction.  As long as players, 
Program participants or not, don't have a choice, the participants aren't 
violating rules.

"When we're dressing in pads for contact drills and scrimmage, wear the 
full practice uniform.  When we're not in pads, all players are required 
to wear supporters - jockstraps.  I want everyone doing your best at 
running routes or wind sprints without worrying about kicking your balls 
all over the place.

"Umm ... girls?  Excuse my plain language.  Of course I know you use 
worse.

"Program participants will wear the jocks.  Since they're required for 
everyone, you don't have a choice and you're not breaking Program rules.  
That's all you wear, however.  Nothing else is needed for safety.  T-
shirts and shorts are optional for non-participants.  The jocks are 
required and I will be checking."

He turned the floor over to the cross country coach Mr. Harrier.  His 
normal class is Geometry.   He tells the cross country team that they, 
too, are required to wear supporters.  It's not optional for anyone even 
if their running shorts have built-in lining.  Most of the runners groan 
because they didn't bring jocks.  The light nylon split-seam shorts they 
usually wear have linings that do a great job of supporting.  Mr. Harrier 
thought for a minute, then required everyone to wear those shorts today.  
Jocks would be required tomorrow, but nothing else for Kelly.  Everyone 
was to participate in the uniform fitting.  The Program-friendly uniform 
would replace the nylon shorts and jocks as soon as they could be 
delivered.

"Okay, are you getting it?  Health, safety and play of the game count.  
Girls have different soft body parts that need support, but they need it 
just as much.  A sports bra is required for all participation in 
Volleyball.  Who has a sports bra on now?  Gail?  Strip off your shirt 
and show everyone," Coach Reeves resumed.  "Right.  Gail's blush isn't 
necessary.  That bra covers more than her swimsuit.  You can tell by the 
tan lines.  It's modest, but that's not the point.  It has a wide band 
and straps that won't dig in when you reach up.  The cups pull breasts in 
and up to prevent bouncing.  The T-back keeps the straps high on your 
shoulder so you can move freely.  This is the right sort of sports bra.

"As the other coaches have done, I'm making this sort of bra mandatory 
during tryouts.  To check that you're all wearing the required support, 
nobody will wear anything over the bra.  They are more modest than 
swimsuits, after all.  Shorts are optional for non-participants.  Program 
girls go bottomless.  This is about safety, not modesty."

"Pffft," I scoffed.  What the hell would I ever need a bra for.  I was 
too far away for her to hear the derision, but she must have seen my 
expression.

She spoke directly to me, "Maybe you don't think you need it, but the bra 
is required for all players.  Program participants don't get a choice.  
If anyone can choose not to wear one, it would be optional and then no 
Program participants could wear one.  Show hands if you don't have a bra 
or if you only have a little lacy thing."

Four of us put up our hands.  A few seconds later Melissa raised hers and 
said that she was wearing hers when she had to strip in the morning.

"Okay.  As soon as you're finished with your lockers, you five see me," 
the coach instructed.  "I'll give you passes to get bras.  You can go 
home, go to a store or call for someone to bring it to you.  Mr. Carlson 
is with us on all this, Melissa.  I'll give you a note and he should 
return your bra.  Keep it in your bag tomorrow.

"Here's what we decided on for uniforms for volleyball, girls' basketball 
and some others.  This sort of shorts will work for boys.  Cross country 
will use them.  We hope to have a good answer for boys shirts before 
basketball season.  Volleyball and basketball rules require that all the 
uniforms have shorts and jersey.  The whole team must match, with 
exceptions.  Numbers have to appear in particular places on the shirt.  
Sandra, come on out and model that."

One of the players came out of the locker room wearing all fishnet.  Her 
shorts rode low on her hips and had real short legs.  The threads of the 
fishnet were fine and black.  The openings were about half an inch 
square.  Her pubic hair, labia and butt all showed through clearly.  The 
top had a band under her breasts, straps and cups like a sports bra.  
White fishnet mesh was added all around like a short-cropped sleeveless 
T-shirt.  That included the bra cups.  Areoles showed and her nipples 
poked through.  Quite cute, really.  The mesh, band and straps stretch 
some, but it looked like the cups didn't stretch enough.

"These have to fit right.  There's not enough mesh in the cups to stretch 
and they really do have to support well.  I'll be wearing one like this, 
too.  Yours will have numbers on the front and back.  Mine will have a 
bow tie.  We won't be naked, but they're not modest are they?  They feel 
like you're dressed and that may take some getting used to if you get 
hooked on nudity.

"There are fit samples in almost every size.  Try them on until you find 
a fit.  Sandy needs a larger cup size, for instance.  The samples will be 
on that table.  Try them right after you get your lockers and write your 
size on the chart.

"Here's how we'll do lockers.  Boys' locker room at that table, girls' at 
this.  Program participants come first because you have two lockers to 
work on.  Program people also go to the opposite table to get the locker 
you'll use this week.  Change when you get to your locker for today - no 
pads for football, shorts for running and sports bras for volleyball.  
You five girls see me after.  Go."

The naked girls went first and found our permanent lockers.  I wanted to 
see boys.  I hurried faster than most of them and got to the middle of 
the line for boys' room lockers.  Those guys didn't mind letting me in.  
They asked what they could touch while we waited.

"Me," I answered holding my arms out to the sides.

They did.  About ten hands went all over me.  The more they touched, the 
more I liked it.  The more I liked it, the more I smiled.  They saw the 
smile, got closer and touched more intimately.  That's positive feedback 
the way it's supposed to work.  Every now and then the whole crowd moved 
closer to the table then some of the guys started dropping off.  I was 
breathing hard when I had to tell Coach Johnston my name.  He put on a 
big smile.  I don't know if that was for my obvious strength, that I'm 
cute, that I was naked or for how aroused I was getting.  I also caught 
sight of Coach Reeves checking me out and salivating again.

My locker for the week is at the end of the last row.  I had a long walk 
close to a lot of guys.  Most of them were in the middle of changing and 
I got the view I'd hoped for.  Lots of cocks and they got hard when they 
saw me.  They dragged their hands along my body as I walked by.  I raised 
my arms to give them an open shot and walked slowly.  All the touches and 
gropes were gentle and sexy.  By the time I got to my locker, I was 
really aroused.

"Hey guys?  That's stuff you can do to me that you better ask other girls 
about.  I don't think many of them are ready for that much groping.  
Maybe Emily, if you ask.  Me, any time."  Then I tried to get them to do 
more for my arousal, "Now I want more.  You guys make me soooo horny."

"Good!" said one of the football players and they all turned to leave.

One boy patted my ass and said, "Not something you can't take care of 
yourself."

Dawn must be the other Program girl in this row of lockers and the line 
must have come to the end.  She came along as they were leaving.

The boys each asked to touch her someplace.  She hesitated and agreed to 
the first ones only reluctantly.  The agreements came more quickly after 
her shoulders, perky boobs and six-pack abs got a few strokes and Dawn 
got some thanks.  The last few boys touched her ass and legs.  None dared 
to try for her pussy.

"Damn.  I see why you like the touching.  It feels good," she said with 
the blush of excitement spreading over her body.

I sat down with a little yelp.  My pussy wanted warm soft hands, not a 
hard wooden bench.  It got my own hand.  I only needed a single stroke on 
my clit to get off.

I did my locker combination, grabbed my little waist pack and was on my 
way out.  There was Emily cornered just inside the locker room door where 
every boy went by her.  She was granting every request they asked and had 
lots of hands all over her.  She had that horny look, wobbly knees and 
stuff running down her legs again.  They left her that way.  "Bastards" 
was a fitting label.  She gave herself a few strokes, squealed through an 
orgasm and collapsed against the wall.  I got there in time to keep her 
from falling over. We both washed off and Emily jiggled into her sports 
bra.  She needs it with that big rack.

I reported to Coach Reeves.  She gave Melissa a note for the principal.  
Two of the other girls were going to call home for bras so they got hall 
passes.  The other girl, Tania, was like me in that she needed to buy the 
right style.  All of us would miss the stretching, warmup and a little of 
the tryout.  We could join the open tryout for girls who hadn't planned 
for sports.

We got exit passes and had to check out with the office.  Mr. Carlson or 
one of the counselors would have to approve.  That turned out to be no 
problem.  The principal accepted the explanations.  He even accepted that 
I wear my pack strapped around my waist but on one hip where it doesn't 
hide anything important.  He initialed our passes and took Melissa to get 
her bra.

"You're really going out there naked!?" Tania marveled.  "All the way to 
the mall?"

I explained living naked and that the mall was only two blocks away.  We 
could get the bras at the sporting goods store and be back before the 
hour was over.

"How about either of the department stores?  They have nicer styles," 
Tania suggested.

"We're not after nice styles.  We want supporting T-back sports bras and 
you probably want something modest," I responded.  "Besides, the clothing 
departments of those other two stores don't like naked people.  They 
don't see much return business.  They both mark everything up 10%, like a 
reverse sale for naked people."

The main street between the school and mall is pretty busy, but both of 
those places are larger than a block.  There are two other neighborhood 
streets between them with virtually no traffic.  We passed only a few 
people outside in the heat of the day.  They looked at us, well at me.  I 
smiled and waved.  That broke their staring and got me waves in return.  
One was naked and very friendly.  She was in her mid-twenties or so, 
sitting out in her shady front yard with her baby.  She was holding the 
baby's hand for support while the baby tried to stand.  We exchanged big 
smiles and pleasant greetings.

Tania had laughed at the reverse sale idea, but understood that the 
sporting goods store is the better place for the style we need.  It's 
also a better place for naked people to get service.  The owner and 
another guy gave us their undivided attention.  No, Tania didn't need any 
help in the fitting room.  She found the same model that Gail showed and 
bought a few.  I got super lucky.  There's a style that's supposed to be 
cool and breezy and definitely underwear.  It has cups of quarter-inch 
open fishnet and everything else is like the example.  I tried some on 
right there in the store.  Too bad it wasn't very busy at that time of 
day.  The cups are expected to stretch, so they start small.  The 40A 
size fit me without being baggy.  There was only one of that size in 
stock.  I have to wash all those towels every day anyway.  I can throw in 
the bra until uniforms come in.

On the way back to school, Tania complained, "It's hot.  I'd really 
rather be wearing a halter."

"You could strip," I suggested.  If you don't want to join me all the 
way, try topless.  You're plenty cute."

"No, I couldn't.  I'm dreading my Program week as it is," she answered.

"Okay, how about losing the shirt and wearing the new bra?  You'll have 
to do that in the gym anyway," I tried again.

"That makes a little more sense.  Where could I change?" she wondered.

"How about right here.  It's legal.  Lemme hold your stuff," I offered.

She got a wide-eyed scared look, but swallowed hard and found some 
courage.  Her T-shirt came off and I added it to what I was holding.  Do 
you think it was an accident her new bra was tangled with everything 
else?  She unfastened her lacy bra, then tried to snatch it off quickly.  
That worked, but she couldn't get her new one from me.

"How does that feel?" I asked while pretending to fumble with her 
clothes.  "Your nipples look like you're excited by it."

"Yeah, it's strange to feel the breeze there and it's embarrassing, too.  
Hurry up," she prodded.

"Do a dare, Tania.  I dare you to walk this last block topless, then put 
on the bra after we cross the street to the school," I tried again.

She looked down at herself, then at me.  My damned flat chest made her 
feel good about her full B-cups.  She ran her hands over herself and sort 
of shivered.  She was really considering the idea.

"Okay for a block, but I'll put on the bra before we cross the street.  
Not so many people will see me through the windows that way," she agreed.

We walked on talking about the Program and living naked.  She had seen 
the brochure and knew the term `outreach' and what it means.  Yep, she 
had figured me out.

When we checked in at the office, Mr. Carlson came out to remark, "Well, 
Tania, are you joining the volunteers?"

She put her hand over her mouth in shock, checked herself, grabbed her 
bra from me and put it on as quickly as she could.  She didn't say a 
word, just fled the office and headed for the gym.  She did admit later 
that it felt so good being topless that she forgot about it.

We stowed the purse and pack, and got into the gym in plenty of time to 
try on the uniform samples before open tryout.  Each piece of the uniform 
has bands and straps where they're needed and a wide open mesh in between.  
A whole uniform easily crumples into a handful.  These were what I'd seen 
Coach Reeves with last week.

My butt's not that abnormal, but my legs are big.  The extra large size 
shorts were a little long, but with a soft snug feeling all over.  After 
being naked, I would take at least a week of practice in them to get used 
to feeling anything on my ass.  Not so lucky with the top here.  They 
didn't have any 40 sizes.  Even the 38A was baggy on my damned flat boobs 
and the band was too tight.  I'd have to see Coach Reeves about that later 
- when she was alone.  Tania found her fit on the first try.  This time 
she stripped off her bra and tried on the sample right there in the gym.

I saw Melissa sitting in the bleachers with a glum look.  She was naked 
like a good Program participant and holding her bra.  She launched into 
the rant before I could even ask `sup?'

"Fuckin' Program.  Fuckin' rules," she said with fire in her eyes.  "I'm 
a setter and I have a chance at varsity this year.  A specialist has to 
get through all the basic skill tryouts first.  They're all out there 
showing off, but not me.  Oh, no.  Coach Reeves is making us wait for 
open tryouts to start.  Do you know how much attention those girls get?  
Jack shit, and that's from extra teachers they bring in to help with the 
rush.  We can't even stretch or warm up until they `instruct' us how to 
do it.  The coach even told me I can't wear the bra until I'm actually 
working out."

She had the fiery look of a real competitor frustrated by arbitrary 
rules.  Here was another one I could really get to like.

After the bell at the end of the last class, activity picked up in the 
locker rooms and in the bleachers.  Students who had PE in another hour 
used their lockers.  Anyone who didn't have PE this term would only get a 
locker if they made a team, so they plunked gym bags in the bleachers.  
As Melissa said, a few teachers joined the coaches to help with the 
crowded tryouts.  The gym holds three volleyball or basketball courts 
with plenty of space around each one.  There's also a small gym that has 
one court, a weight room and a wrestling room with wall-to-wall mats.  
The coaches had two of the courts busy with the girls who were already 
working.

Three more teachers checked in with Coach Reeves then took charge of us.  
Melissa and I put on the bras.

"Why bother, Pam," Melissa asked.  "You're gonna need more bra than that 
later, but now you don't need any ... and that sure doesn't cover 
anything."

"Ask the coach," I said with a shrug, but I really understand the fine 
point about the Program rule.

I was sort of shocked when I looked up from getting the bra in place.  
The teacher addressing us was Ms Grisom from algebra class.  She started 
in with a welcome and wished the wannabes good luck.  Next, she got to 
the dress code.

"You girls without shirts, stand up," she instructed, then after the five 
of us stood she continued, "Those two are dressed like you have to - 
good, supporting T-back sports bra, and no shirt so we can see that 
you're doing it right.  They're in the Program, so they have to be 
bottomless.  You're allowed to wear shorts like those three.  We're 
serious.  Those five couldn't start last hour.  We made them get the 
right clothes.  Your choices now are to strip the shirt and play in your 
bra, go get a good bra and come back tomorrow, or just drop out of 
tryouts."

A lot of the girls picked up and left right then.  At least it wasn't 
going to be quite so crowded.  The rest dropped their shirts on the 
bleachers.  Ms Grisom told us to spread out on the vacant court and some 
of the open space away from the other courts.  The other two teachers 
spread around to supervise us.  Ms Grisom stopped me on the way to the 
court.

"Umm ... Pam, is it?" she addressed me.  "I screwed up in class making 
that joke about you.  It got the reaction I deserved.  I'm sorry and I'll 
apologize in class tomorrow."

I'm sure I blushed and I could only give a little smile and nod to her.  
She took us through the prescribed stretching exercises, a light jog to 
get our heart rate up and then grouped us in twos and threes.  I could 
tell this tryout wasn't totally serious.  We got the oldest, rattiest 
balls in the school's collection.  Some of them weren't even leather 
covered.  We were to do forearm passes, then a drill with alternating 
pass, set and a light overhand hit.

I paired with Melissa and we quickly got into a rhythm.  It was obvious 
who could play.  Our pair and the other three who had to get bras were 
clearly better and more comfortable than almost all the others.  There 
was one other who looked fairly good, but she was held back by her 
partners.  They didn't even know which end of the ball to hit.  They 
spent so much time chasing the ball that the one good girl wasn't getting 
a chance to show off.  Ms Grisom noticed, too.  When the partners were 
off chasing the ball one time, she brought the girl to Melissa and me.  
We were now a trio.

"Jennie."

"Melissa."

"Pam," we introduced ourselves.  "You bump to both of us.  You need the 
touches."

Jenny proved herself quite well.  The three of us were so comfortable 
with these drills that we didn't need to concentrate fully.  We asked and 
Jennie explained that she was a sophomore and had just moved in.

"Your Program lets you wear bras?" she marveled.  "Where I was before, we 
had to play naked even when we weren't in the Program.  I dropped out of 
sports `cause it hurt my boobs."

Melissa explained the reasoning and pointed out the uniforms on the 
table.  My attention went to Jennie's chest when she mentioned boobs.  
Yep, another one with a rack I'd kill for.  They looked like full size 
softballs and bounced a little even in her bra.  It looked like they were 
soft and pendulous - the hanging kind that would really flap when she 
jumped without good support.

The six of us didn't get any more attention from the teachers after 
Jennie joined us.  They spent the rest of the time watching all the 
others and mostly scowling.

We got to hit a few serves over the net.  We would serve from one side 
and players on the other side would try to receive.  My strength is 
deceiving.  I don't take any step into the serve and it hardly looks like 
my hitting arm moves.  The ball streaks over the net, clearing by about 
half an inch.  I've learned to snap my wrist to make it spin.  The ball 
acts like a sinkerball pitch.  At first it looks like it's going too fast 
and will go out of bounds.  It drops suddenly, so it's hard to get to and 
the spin usually messes up the pass if someone does get it.  I showed 
off.  The poor wannabes couldn't touch my serves.  Well, sometimes my 
serves touched them.  One stood in the way, screamed and tried to raise 
her arms to protect herself.  The ball hit her in the face anyway.

Jennie and Melissa have fast, low serves, too.  Tania and the others are 
accurate but softer.  Ms Grissom decided that only the six of us would 
receive each others' serves.  That turned into a good workout for us and 
a lesson for the wannabes.  It was a challenge trying to get Jennie's and 
Melissa's serves, but I got them all.  I also remembered how to roll on 
the floor instead of sliding when I dive.  One floor burn was all the 
reminder I needed.

Near the end of the hour, Coach Reeves came over.  Ms Grisom separated 
the six of us.

"These are the ones who really belong," she said.

Coach Reeves didn't recognize Jennie.  The new girl got the third degree, 
a chance to show her offensive moves and a note to get her schedule 
changed.  The coach promised that we'd start in the PE hour and not be 
stuck in this group.  As it turned out, Jennie was the only upperclass 
girl to get a good result from open tryouts.

Ms. Grisom pointed out about ten of the remaining wannabes, saying they 
had a chance at the freshman team.  Coach Reeves separated them to one 
side and asked if they were all freshmen.  She sent the sophomores back 
to the pack.  She told the freshmen they had a chance and to stay with 
the tryouts.

Her speech to the rest of the pack wasn't as encouraging, "You can try to 
impress us again tomorrow if you want, but you will have to do a lot 
better to have a chance at any of the teams.  As it is we have 36 places 
on the three teams and 55 trying out beside you."

A long shrill blast from her whistle ended the tryout right at five 
o'clock.  I was ready for a locker room full of boys, but again no such 
luck.  The only boys in there were the cross country team, except Kelly.  
There were eight girls and five boys there.  Kelly alone had 45 girls to 
shower with.

The boys were nervous at being naked, more so because they were in the 
minority.  One got the nerve to ask to wash Emily.  She accepted so 
eagerly and reacted so well that more boys asked.  Enough of us accepted 
that all the boys had a girl to wash.  There was mostly washing at first.  
Once a boy had soaped the entire girl, he would go back to her ass and 
pussy.  After a few minutes, Emily got off with a high pitch squeal.  She 
took a minute to recover, then she returned the favor.  She washed the 
whole boy, then went back and concentrated on his cock.  He got off soon 
enough.

The one washing me was pretty good with his hands.  He started later than 
the one doing Emily, but I got off just after she did.  I washed him all 
over, except his cock.

He was about to protest when I said, "You can have the hand job if you 
prefer, but I'd rather fuck."

His face lit up and he pressed up against me.  I backed up to the wall 
and stood with my legs apart to give him a way in and set my pussy at 
just the right height.  He got off so quickly that I only had one orgasm.  
The one when he washed me counts, too, so it was a very good shower.  
When I recovered, I saw that all the others in there were staring.

"Again, Pam?" asked Emily.

I gave the boy a slow sweet kiss, then answered, "Again ... and again 
when I can."

I used the douche bottle I had smuggled over from the girls' room and the 
other Program girls took their turns with it.  The showers were shut off, 
towels were thrown and a lot of giggling naked people dried each other.  
It got a little sexy, but it was mostly friendly and fun.  Is that what 
the Program is about?  Sex has its place in the rest of life along with 
friends and fun.  Clothing not necessary.

The boys got dressed and the other Program girls went to the box outside 
in front of the school.  I found out later that there were quite a few 
students on hand for the dressing.  They'd been preparing for the 
activity faire and just happened to quit about then.

I had to see Coach Reeves about the volleyball uniform, and more if I was 
right about her.  I got to the girls' locker room just as Kelly came 
staggering out.  His penis was down and soft.

He told about being washed by at least twenty girls, "Some must have 
liked to feel me all hard.  Six girls combined to get me sooo aroused.  
It took only a few strokes for a good hand job from the next one.  Other 
girls liked me soft and relaxed.  They handled and `washed' me gently.  I 
think most of them hadn't seen a penis before and were exploring.  I 
didn't mind.  They were all nice and it's what the Program is supposed to 
be about.  After a while, they got me up again.  That thrilled some of 
the girls and repelled others.  There were quite a few `Eww.'  There were 
enough who wanted to see and touch a hard one, though.  A bunch of them 
worked me over and there was this final one.  She scoffed at all the 
prissy ones who went `Eww' when I squirted.  After that I could hardly 
stand.  The girls had mercy and dried me off."

Jennie and Tania came by just then and one of them said, "Check him out, 
Pam.  He's fine."

"Those are the two who got me off those times," Kelly revealed.  "Do you 
know them?"

"We met.  And girls, Kelly and I checked each other out already today ... 
all the way ... twice," I boasted as I snuggled against Kelly.  "Don't 
worry.  We're not exclusive."

Tania gave us a thumbs up and Jennie said, "Way to go," before they left 
in a flurry of giggles and whispers.

The last I saw of Kelly, he was walking slowly to the front door, 
wondering how I could be so perky.

I knocked on Coach Reeves' door and stood waiting.  The football team 
came in then and the Program boys came to the girls' locker room.  I 
think every one of them stroked his hand across my ass as he went by.  I 
know Dan didn't miss the chance and we smiled at each other.

The coach broke into a smile as soon as she opened the door.

"Excuse me, coach, but I couldn't find a uniform that fit - not even 
close.  Please tell me those aren't the only sizes," I started.

"You're not the only one.  Come in and we'll get measurements," the coach 
said as her smile turned almost predatory.

She closed the door behind us and I think I heard it lock.  I was getting 
more confident about being right.

She pointed to her computer screen.  There was a spreadsheet with bra 
sizes and other numbers.

"We have to order for future teams, too.  I'll fill in the extreme sizes, 
but only order one.  I'm trying to figure the distribution nearer the 
median and how many of those we should order.  The point is that we'll have 
a stock of sizes, so you should find a fit even if you grow.  What sizes 
did you try and how did they miss fitting?" she asked.

While she was getting out her tape, I told about buying the 40A bra and 
trying the 38A uniform.

"The company did warn us that the chest sizes are accurate, but the cups 
are a little big so they don't have to be stretchy.  Lets measure and 
check you on the chart," she said.

She lifted my arms out of the way, then stopped and said, "Damn, those 
are solid.  Only a few boys in this school have arms that good.  Yours 
don't bulge with that soft girl-skin over them.  Your shape here is 
amazing, too."

With that she had the tape around me and was stroking the V of the lats 
up and down my sides.  We were both starting to breath more heavily.

"Your band had better fit or it'll hurt when all this gets pumped up.  
This tiny waist makes me wonder where you put your internal organs.  It 
looks like it's all six-pack.  I've only seen a couple of guys with abs 
like this, but never a girl," she said staring at me the whole time.

I was blushing like I usually do over compliments.  My nipples didn't pop 
out because they and the rest of my flat boobs were already as swollen as 
they could get from the sex.

"Do I bother you talking about your body?  I could talk about your cute 
face with all that blushing," she teased.  "But we'd better get to your 
boobs."

She measured my chest and got 40 like she should, then she measured my 
boobs and said, "Hmmm."

She flipped through the company's book to a chart and said "Hmmm" again.

"Do you swell any - like during your period or when you have sex?" she 
asked.

"I'm at my biggest right now.  Showering with boys didn't stop with the 
showering," I explained.

"That explains the wild red pussy.  Did you enjoy the shower?  It's one 
of the high points of a day in the Program," she led me.

"Oh, yes ma'am.  Of course, I didn't wait for the shower to go that far 
the first few times and I'm hoping for more today," I responded.

"Well, this says you almost fit one of their 40A.  If you're all the way 
swollen, you'll need the special size they call `flat'," she said 
pointing into the book.

Right.  Flat.  I rolled my eyes.  Damned flat boobs.

"We did have a few of the younger girls put down that size, but they are 
a lot smaller - 28 and 30 chests.  They're also not likely to make the 
team.  `Flat' is a standard cup for smaller sizes, but for 40 it's a 
special order.  I'll put that down and also get A through D.  Mmmm.  I'd 
really like to see a 40D playing volleyball in one of these fishnet 
tops," she said.

She came over to me and started caressing my chest.  She was checking 
just how much softness was in there and trying to excite my nipples at 
the same time.  She did both.  The nipples didn't change much, but I 
gasped when they started to feel good.  She smiled at that - predatory 
again.  Absolutely salivating.

"They're big already.  With all the area they cover, you have more breast 
than most B-cups.  When they do a growth spurt, I don't want to be 
standing in front of you.  Then there's the muscle under there.  Some of 
the football players have pects this big, but only some.  You did say you 
worked out all summer, didn't you?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am, I did.  Swimming, karate and weight training every day.  The 
... umm ... shorts?" I answered her, but didn't finish the next thought.

"Right.  Shorts," she interrupted me and grabbed her tape again.  "You 
know, your butt is damn hot.  Do boys tell you they like it?"

"Yes, ma'am.  Since I don't have boobs to distract them, they tell me 
it's my best part and wanted to touch it all day," I said.

She knelt in front of me and slowly wrapped the tape around my waist 
savoring every touch and trying to make me feel the same.  She let the 
tape drop to write down the measurement.  The next measurement was around 
my ass.  She reached around and fumbled with the tape to be sure she 
stroked my cheeks and legs.  She didn't try to make any excuse when she 
dug her fingers into my ass and I think I heard a squeal of excitement 
from her.  I got wet in the pussy and I'm sure she smelled it.  Her eyes 
brightened and she looked up at me with another of those smiles after she 
wrote the hip measurement.

"Now your legs," she announced and reached between them.  "They're big 
and powerful even for a woman.  Lots of swimming, you say?  They look 
good for jumping, too."

USERNAME: Pamela
PASSWORD: ********

-  - P - R - O - T - E - C - T - E - D -  -
-  -   - S - E - C - T - I - O - N -   -  -

This could cause real trouble, but it does have something to do with the 
Program.  It's a big step for me toward an important goal, too.  I'm 
writing it for me and maybe Mom.  I hope continuity is good enough that 
other readers go right over it and don't think they missed anything.

She paid a lot of attention to my inner thighs, fumbling with the tape 
again.  How many times do you think she `accidentally' brushed my vulva?  
I couldn't count, but I liked every one of them.  I concluded that I was 
right about her and this was the moment.  I clamped my big legs together 
trapping her hand against my pussy.  She gasped and her smile grew 
predatory again.

"You can stop hitting on me so hard, Coach.  I'm ready," I said with a 
smile of my own, and yes, it was a little predatory.

"Ready?  What is it you're ready for, Pam?" she challenged.

"Sex," I answered plainly.  "With you.  I want to learn how to do it with 
a woman."

"Do you think you're lesbian?  You said you only lost your virginity 
today," she asked.

"Oh, no.  I really like doing it with boys.  I'm just curious about how 
it is with a woman.  Mom says I'd know how to please a woman 
instinctively once I learned to please myself.  I could probably do it 
with my hands, but I want to learn about doing a woman with my mouth," I 
explained.

"Do you know how many ways this is wrong?" she asked.

"I'm of age.  The only problem is the coach-player, teacher-student 
relationship.  I'm going to make your team by playing well.  This 
shouldn't matter," I said.

She slid her hand out of my crotch very slowly.  It found my clit among 
all the swollen red stuff.  The sensation ran all the way up me and came 
out as a squeal.  She gave me a look that asked if I was alright.  I held 
her face, moved up against her and kissed her.  She let my tongue into 
her mouth right away and her hands started roaming all over me.  She felt 
softer than the boys had, but just as strong.  I could feel her boobs 
smashed against me and her hips rubbing back and forth.  Her hands 
stroked my sides, back and arms, digging in every now and then.  The kiss 
turned into mutual lip nibbling and that was really fun - personal, 
affectionate and exciting.

She stepped away and I could tell she was into it.  She was flushed, her 
nipples were out hard and there might have been something running down 
her leg.

"Show me what you can do with your hands, Pam," she invited.

I sat in the big easy chair she has in her office and pulled her down 
across my lap.  I got one hand between her legs and the other under her 
ass.  Both hands went to work.  I started with her inner thighs and outer 
labia.  I slowly worked inside her.  Her breathing started to come in 
gasps and she started moaning.  My fingers found her inner spot.  I could 
tell because it felt like mine and her reaction was the same as I get.  I 
crooked my thumb so the knuckle would work on her clitoral hood.  It did 
better than planned by getting under there and rubbing her clit directly.  
My other hand worked over her cheeks and after a while, her asshole.  
That added just the stimulation to take her from moaning to a desperate 
effort to stifle a scream.  She buried her face in the muscles of my 
shoulder and chest, opened her mouth and let the scream out.  Her whole 
body was tense and even shaking.  I held the pressure that got her that 
way until she stopped.  When she got control of herself, she pulled my 
hands out and sat there panting.

"How did you know to do that to my ass?" she asked.

"That's what I do to me.  Mom was right.  It worked on another woman.  
I'm really glad you liked it," I said.

"Oh, I did.  I haven't had a lover in a couple of years and really missed 
it.  Now the mouth idea is to use lips and tongue to work over the 
clitoris and labia.  You usually need a finger for that spot inside and 
anything you do to her ass," the coach coached.  "Here, I'll show you.  
Scoot forward."

I slid to the front edge of the chair and she knelt in front of me again.  
I leaned forward to see what she was doing.  She stuck her tongue out at 
me and curled it.  I laughed and so did she.  Then she started kissing 
and licking my legs.  That was softer and warmer than just rubbing with 
my own fingers.  She did it gently and slowly, letting me build my 
reaction.  She kissed my labia and that felt warmly wonderful.  Suddenly 
she licked my slit.  Her tongue went in far enough to get my inner labia.  
She kept going all the way up and hit my clit.  I couldn't sit up anymore 
and I collapsed back in the chair.  I think she continued that stuff with 
her tongue and added finger action like she had said.  I don't know 
because I was too busy enjoying it to pay attention.  When I came, I 
managed to stifle my own scream, but the convulsion sat me up.  I bent 
over her and kissed the middle of her back.  I really felt like taking a 
bite of it.

She stopped when I finished the orgasm.  Her face was covered with my 
juices, so she wiped herself off and me too.  When she finished I was 
sitting up in the chair and she sat across my lap again.

"Nice, huh?" she prompted and gave me a squeeze around the neck.

"Yes, ma'am.  There were some extra nice unique sensations the way you 
did that, Coach Reeves," I answered and gave her a peck of a kiss.

"Pam, can you separate this, the sex, from the rest of our lives?" she 
asked.

"Yes, I think so and I understand why," I answered.

"Well then, when we're very private and doing this stuff, please call me 
Donna.  `Coach' and `ma'am' sound too much like the forbidden 
relationship.  We're starting off as equals and I really like an 
aggressive partner like you are today.  So is it okay?  In this 
situation, I'm Donna?" she invited.

"Yes ma ... Donna.  That goes with all the intimacy.  Besides `making 
love to Donna' sounds so much better than `fucking the coach,' doesn't 
it?" I agreed.

"That `love' thing is a big step, Pam.  I know better.  You're not ready 
for that with anyone and I haven't known you long enough for more than 
lust," she pointed out.

"Okay `making lust with Donna'," I giggled.  "Now let me try what you 
did.  Tell me if I do something you don't like.  Knees here."

I patted the arms of the big chair.  She knelt across those arms and I 
held her by reaching both arms around her legs and grabbing her ass.  I 
had to slouch down in the chair so I was at the right level to tilt my 
face up into her.  I kissed and licked her legs and outer labia until I 
heard her panting.  By then she really needed me to hold her up and her 
pussy was running wet again.  I licked her slit and got my first taste of 
a woman's juices.  Not too bad, at least not repulsive enough to make me 
quit licking.  I stayed away from her clit on purpose.  My tongue worked 
into her vulva and stroked along her inner labia.  She got weaker and 
more preoccupied by the sexy sensations.  She bent over and leaned her 
arms on the back of the chair.  My tongue took a few tries to fold back 
her hood.  When it did, I had time for two licks on her clit before she 
had to stifle another scream.  I think she used her arm.  I tried to keep 
licking her to prolong the orgasm, but that was a lot of work.  She was 
draped over the back of the chair.  Her hips were bucking, her middle was 
writhing and nothing else was holding anything up.  It took a lot of my 
strength to keep her pussy pressed against my face.  It worked, though.  
She had a nice strong orgasm with a long shuddering end.

When I let go, she collapsed down on me with her boobs on either side of 
my head.  They felt warm and soft, but also smothering.  I lifted her off 
gently and sat her across me again.  We stroked each other and just 
enjoyed it.  When she touched my boobs, though, they were a little sore.  
I held her there and we cuddled until I saw the clock.

"That was a great lesson, Donna.  Did I show mastery of the material?" I 
asked.

"You sure showed mastery of me.  You're a real natural, but I do think 
we'll have to practice a bit more before you're perfect," she said with a 
sly smile.

"Oh, you bet.  This was great.  The trouble is that I have to start work 
at six and it's a quarter of," I said lifting her off me.

She looked at how I did that and muttered, "Damn you're strong."

I smiled at that and at the care she showed when wiping my face off.  She 
did her own pussy and legs, but kept her eye and smile on me the whole 
time.  Yes, the motion was inviting and I was going to be back for more.

"Ooh, we have to get your ass measured," she remembered suddenly.

-  -   -   -   - E - N - D -   -   -   -  -  
-  - P - R - O - T - E - C - T - E - D -  -
-  -   - S - E - C - T - I - O - N -   -  -

"But Coach, the extra large shorts fit fine.  Sorry I didn't put that 
down on the chart," I said with a sly smirk.

"You little vixen!" she exclaimed with a big, but not very surprised 
smile.  "I don't think you need the Program, but it does need you.  Now 
scram.  I have to get this order in."

I left her office and started happily prancing to the outside gym door.  
The idea is to cut across the football field then down a neighborhood 
street to the pool complex.  I didn't get far before I heard a commotion 
coming from the locker room.

"What do those bastards think they're doing?  I am NOT gonna shower with 
naked boys," said a girl as she stormed out of the locker room with a 
stream of others behind her.

"Get your naked ass out of my way," she said to me.

She tried to push me aside so she could have the middle of the hall.  
Karate has taught me a little about balance and throwing weight around.  
I also have at least 70 pounds advantage over her.  I leaned into her 
push, used her force against her and it was she who wound up on her ass.  
The screaming invective wasn't worth remembering let alone typing.  An 
important point is that her friends didn't exactly agree with her.

"Britney, you're being such a bitch," said one.

"I thought those guys were cute with their hard cocks and being too tired 
to use them," said another.

Dan told me later that those were some of the cheerleaders.  They use the 
padded wrestling room to practice their aerials, pyramids and tumbling.  
Today they were using it for tryouts.  Cheerleading is a sport (if you 
think it's not, just check out those aerials, pyramids and tumbling) and 
their sponsor is called the coach.  That's none other than Miss Forester, 
our English teacher.  The cheerleaders were in the locker room and 
showering when the football practice ended.  The program guys invaded 
their private domain and a few of the cheerleaders took exception.  Talk 
about some people who need the Program.


Chapter 5.  Monday Evening


I checked text and voice messages on my cell phone while I walked to the 
pool complex.  Can't do that stuff in school.  The rule is that if they 
see or hear the phone, it's not yours anymore.  There were a lot of 
"Happy Birthday" and "Nice Rescue" messages from old school friends and 
fellow lifeguards.  I sent thanks to all of them.  I'll work on the "call 
me" messages when I can.  One made me laugh.  It was a text from a middle 
school friend who has a brother at Lincoln.

"R U TRYING 2 B THE SCHOOL SLUT?" it asked.

I called her and we talked until I got to the pool.  I didn't say it, but 
she figured out that, yes, I'm trying to be the school slut.

I dropped my books and stuff in the employees' lounge and went to the 
teens' pool.  The day shift supervisor stayed late and watched the lap 
pool inside.  The evening shift supervisor came in early and took the 
adult pool.  Mr. Schwartz and I had the outdoor pools.  That's it.  If 
the supervisors didn't work extra, they'd have to close the place for 
that hour.  The evening shift has mostly people who work a day job.  I 
really can't begrudge them a chance for supper with their families.  I 
had time to check the pH and chlorine in the three outdoor pools and put 
up the sign at the babies' wading pool: "NO LIFEGUARD ON DUTY.  
RESPONSIBLE ADULT MUST BE IN THE WATER WITH EACH CHILD."

Actually Mr. Schwartz has a good view of the baby pool from his seat at 
the kids' pool.  He makes sure the parents are there.  When there are two 
guards at those large outdoor pools, we sit at the ends.  There are 
chairs for third and fourth guards along the sides, but they're only used 
on days when the pool is really crowded.  When I'm solo I pick the side 
chair that puts the sun behind me and lets me see the other two pools, 
too.  That also puts my back to the fence and parking lot just a few feet 
away.  The other guards left right on time and I climbed up to take over.  
Fortunately there were very few swimmers.  Supper time is supper time 
even on very hot days.

Just a moment after I got up on the chair, the remote van of our local TV 
station pulled around the corner and into the lot.  I didn't look away 
from the pools, but heard the truck stop right behind me at the curb.  We 
have a policeman on duty when the complex is open to the public.  All the 
lifeguards made friends with the cops.  Sgt. Washington was right out 
there before the camera was unloaded.  I could hear and it was 
distracting, but I kept focus on the pool and swimmers.

The reporter was one who seems to do a good job when you see her on the 
air, but has a bitchy reputation with city workers.  The way this came 
out, she must have had a run-in with Sgt. Washington before.

"What's up, Ms Sanchez?" the policeman asked.

"I need to interview Pam Fionda.  It has to be now, live.  I know she's 
scheduled to work now, so get out of the way," did seem a little bitchy 
and scared me - a live TV interview!

"That's just not possible.  A director has to be present at every 
interview and we'd have to close all the outdoor pools to make those two 
available.  Maybe they'll agree to an interview after their shift," 
Sgt. Washington tried to be reasonable.

"There she is right there," the cameraman pointed out.

"Hey, Pam!  How does it feel ..." Ms Sanchez tried to get my attention.

Officer Washington interrupted, "Now you'll have to leave.  If you don't 
have the sense to keep from distracting an on-duty public safety 
employee, you can't wait around here."

"We can't wait.  The live interview has to get on before the news ends at 
6:30," she protested.

"Your about to be charged with interfering.  Now go - in your truck and 
off the complex," the officer was getting tough and Ms Sanchez could see 
she wasn't getting anywhere with him.

They left and things were on the quiet side of normal.  A few minutes 
before my shift ended, a family came in - mother and father with younger 
and older girls.  The older girl looked at me for a moment, then waved.  
I waved back while I was thinking of where I'd seen her before.  I 
finally remembered the girl who checked out my boobs before first hour.

The mother checked me out, too.  I seemed to be a subject of their 
conversation.  I could only hear the loud parts.

"That's her, Mom," said the ninth grader.

"Wow," said the younger girl who noticed that I heard and put her hand 
over her mouth.

After some more conversation, the ninth grader exclaimed, "No Way!"

"Oh, come on, Cass.  She can do it," the mother said.  "And I can do it."

The mother dropped her swimsuit and stood there naked.  The younger girl 
peeled off her tight one-piece suit, then pranced around teasing Cass.  
The teen rolled her eyes and slowly removed her suit.  She got the 
expected compliments and they made her feel as comfortable as they could.  
She spent a lot of time in the water.

My shift ended when two other guards showed up for the evening shift.  
Cass interrupted me on the way from the pool.  She introduced her mother, 
Dr. Switerlitz, her father, another Dr. Switerlitz and her sister 
Caitlin.  They had a lot of nice things to say to me.  The doctor 
mentioned my low body fat and I assured her that my doctor was watching 
it and I had been controlling my calorie balance quite well.  I was 
gaining weight, just not fat.  When she found out my doctor is Sol 
Greenbaum, she was relieved.

"He'll do everything I would.  There isn't a better doctor," she assured 
me.  "I am doing a project researching growth hormones.  I'd like to 
include you, perhaps as a case study, not just in the statistics.  It 
would mean a few minutes for blood samples and measurements.  I'd need 
those now for a baseline and then maybe daily when you have a growth 
spurt."

"I'd be happy to be a lab rat for you, but with swimming in the morning, 
volleyball `til five after school and starting here at six, I'd have 
trouble getting to your office during hours," I pointed out a problem.  
"I could dash to your office after five if it's close."

"Not close.  We're in the medical center at the far edge of town.  How 
about if we meet here just before six or just after seven tomorrow?" she 
offered and I agreed.

As an afterthought, Mr. Dr. Switerlitz added "You were working here for 
the whole hour, weren't you?  You missed it.  You just have to catch the 
news tonight."

I took a pleasant leave and went away wondering what was on the news 
without that live interview.  Sgt. Washington and Mr. Schwartz were in 
the director's office when I went by on the way out.  The policeman 
called me in, but only to mention that Mr. Schwartz and I both need to 
catch the news at 11.

"I could hear all that stuff at the curb, Sgt. Washington.  Thanks," I 
said and he gave me a little waving salute.

I had something for Mr. Schwartz, too.  I told him that volleyball 
matches would have me unavailable Tuesday and Friday evenings.  He looked 
like he was about to crap.  I pointed out that I'd be here tomorrow and 
the matches would only start Friday of next week.  He's still hoping to 
solve the whole shortage by then, so maybe that wouldn't hurt at all.

I was almost to the main entrance when that bitchy cheerleader and two of 
her followers came in.  They were each wearing a skimpy bikini.

"Ooh!  The hometown hero!  Make way.  Make room," Britney mocked as she 
pushed her companions to the sides.

I just walked by, but should have expected something.  Just after I got 
past her, Britney hauled off and smacked my ass.  The sound was loud and 
it hurt as much as she wanted it to.  She must have put all she has into 
that smack because I could still count all the fingers in the red mark 
after I got home.  I had her arm before she could pull it back and 
twisted it into a half-nelson.  That really is an effective move.  I spun 
Britney around to face the door.  She stopped with her nose about two 
inches from the glass.

"You really can't go around hitting the lifeguards, Britney.  Now you 
have to leave for the rest of the day.  You can come back tomorrow, but 
now leave," I told her after she seemed to regain her senses.

She was twisting around to see me and must have caught sight of Sgt. 
Washington.

"Do you see what she's doing to me?  Make her let go!" she screamed.

"Nice takedown, Pam," the officer complimented me.

"What?  She's hurting me and I didn't do anything," Britney whined and I 
think the other two girls rolled their eyes.

"Young lady, even if I hadn't seen you, you left bright red evidence on 
Pam's ass," the officer confronted her.  "Now Pam is a public safety 
employee of the city.  Assault and battery on her is an even worse crime.  
She's giving you a lenient way out.  You really should take it."

"Unngghh!" she grunted when she struggled without getting anywhere.  
"Okay.  Okay, we'll go.  Heather, Nikki, come on."

"We're here to swim, Brit," said one of the others.

"See you tomorrow," said the other.

"Come on, Britney.  Lets talk outside.  I'll walk with you," I offered.

"No thanks, naked bitch.  Don't come anywhere near me," she growled.

Just before I let go, I tangled the neck string of her bikini top in her 
fingers.  As far as anyone could tell, she accidentally untied her own 
top.  She stormed out of the pool and half way across the parking lot 
before she noticed the breeze and sun on her bouncing bare boobs.  She 
was really flustered trying to juggle her bag of stuff, cover her boobs 
and re-tie the top with only two hands.

I just walked home.  I checked messages again on the way.  There was 
another surge of short congratulations.  That may be because only friends 
have my cell phone number.  Mom's one of those and she called me just 
then.

"Ah, I thought I'd catch you when you can talk now," she started.  "Have 
you seen the evening news?"

"No, but sooo many people are telling me not to miss it tonight.  WHAT's 
UP?" I demanded.

"You really have to see it for yourself.  Be sure you do," she advised.

"Umm ... Mom?  I have somebody coming over ... umm ... stuff to do 
tonight," I hemmed and hawed.

"I don't care if his dick is a foot long, Pam.  Watch that news," she 
demanded then hung up to be sure she got the last word.

It's really hard to put one over on Mom.  It's also hard to find 
something she disapproves of.  Mom's cool.

The next call was from Dad a minute later.  Wife was on the line, too.  
They both wished me happy birthday and gushed about what was on TV.  When 
they found out I hadn't seen any news today, they insisted I not miss it.  
All I could think was, `Okay, people, WHAT's UP!?'

"You'll see, Pam.  I bet your Mom is so proud," said Wife.

I blushed and said meekly. "Well, I try ... to make her proud, and you, 
too."

"It's working.  We can tell you just shine in that Program," Dad said.

At home, I stuffed my towels and bra in the washing machine and started 
it.  The next stop was the refrigerator to see what was for supper.  It 
turned out to be beef stroganoff with a side of steamed broccoli. I 
boiled the noodles, microwaved the vegetables and mixed the parts of the 
sauce.  I went over my calorie balance.  All that sex more than made up 
for missing half of tryouts, so I added some extra noodles.

The phone had its light on.  That means there are voice mail messages.  I 
checked.  The mailbox was full and had been rejecting more.  I listened 
to the ones that had pressed 2 to leave messages for me.  That turned out 
to be all but three of them.  Most were simple congratulations.  A few 
were sleazy propositions thinly veiled as praise.  There were offers from 
hair trimming and sex toy shops for free stuff if I'd be in their 
publicity.  The TV reporter and one from the newspaper wanted me to call 
them.  One was a local bible thumper in full pulpit voice.  He went on 
and on about sin and shame.  His one message filled the mailbox with 
twelve minutes of the preaching.  I had to listen to thirty seconds of it 
while I remembered how to dump a message before it finished.  Like with 
reactions of people on the street, there were a couple of shots calling 
me `slut' or `whore.'  Whore?  Maybe when I turn pro, but it's just 
`slut' for now, thank you.

None of the messages were from people close enough to answer.  Those had 
all come on my cell phone.  I dumped all of them and got back to the 
supper.

I savored the first few bites of the meal - tender meat, delicious sauce, 
special sweet noodles even with my own extras mixed in, and broccoli 
perfect after microwave warming.  My mind got past the great food after a 
few minutes.  I started in on homework, reading the digital camera book 
for art.  I'm used to the stuff in the first chapters from using Mom's 
camera.  I knew what it was talking about with autofocus and image 
compression.  The next part went into more complicated professional 
equipment and their extra features.  Okay, I remember what I read, but 
that doesn't mean I understand it all.  That's what classes with teachers 
are for.

I rinsed the dishes and pans and loaded them in the dishwasher, put the 
towels and bra in the dryer and got on with more homework.  I read 
through the algebra assignment, getting through two of three chapters 
before ...

The doorbell rang and I opened it to find a brightly smiling, dressed Dan 
Allen.  I greeted him with a hug and kiss that befit the reason for his 
visit.  With my hands still perched on his pects, I asked if he'd like 
anything to drink or a snack.

"Not now," he answered.

Since he wasn't going to take that one, I switched to another offer - me.  
He took that one.

"You really are straight forward, Pam," he said.

"You, too," I replied with a tweak at the tentpole bulge in his shorts.

I started to work on his belt and shirt buttons as he went on, "I 
promised to tell you why I stopped this morning.  It was going just like 
one other time last year.  That girl was having the same sort of trouble 
getting me in and was determined to do me in class.  She just dropped on 
me and jammed it in.  It hurt so bad that she hated sex and hated me for 
the rest of the year and probably still does.  You were getting that same 
look of determination.  In private and with no time limit, you can back 
off when you want or not go through with it at all if you're not 
comfortable."

By then he was stripped and looked more like the familiar Dan.  I 
mentioned that the bedroom is upstairs and started to pull him that way.  
He yanked me back and spun me so my front crashed into him.  His firm 
muscles cushioned the crash and felt sooo good to be up against.  He 
reached one hand behind me, lifted me by the ass and grabbed a boob with 
the other hand.  I held on with two arms around his shoulders and put 
kisses all over his neck and ear.  It was a monstrous thrill.  Here was a 
guy who could swoop me up and was doing it to take me to bed.  The thrill 
almost covered the little soreness in that boob.

He carried me upstairs into my bedroom and laid me gently on the bed.

"An extra long bed?  Rare for a girl, but it sure fits you."  He looked 
around and asked, "You really keep your room neat.  Does your Mom make 
you pick up every day?"

"I tossed all my little girl stuff except this one bunny last summer.  
Check the closet and those drawers.  They're empty `cause all I own for 
clothes is that one bra I had to buy today," I answered.  "Ya know, there 
is one advantage of living naked I hadn't thought of `til now - no 
bitching to pick up clothes."

We laughed at that, looked each other's bodies over and smiled at each 
other.  He cuddled beside me and gave me a long warm kiss.  This guy 
knows how get me started - masterful, then tender.  We used our hands on 
each other and both got wet.  His precum and my running juices told us we 
were both ready.  He rolled onto his back and pulled me on top of him.

"You can work it gently, Pam.  Pull off when it doesn't feel good," he 
advised.

I got my labia nibbling at him again, but he's sooo big he just wouldn't 
go in.  I got a little sore trying to get stretched, then I got an idea.

"Hold it right here," I said with a kiss, then hopped off and dashed to 
Mom's bathroom.

I came back with Mom's jar of lubricating jelly.  I smeared it all over 
my vulva, inside my vagina and all over his cock.  I tried again 
straddled over him, leaning forward on my arms.  There was less 
resistance - a lot less friction and stretching was easier.  EasiER, not 
easy.  I started to see the problem I'd have with childbirth.  He was 
right about taking time, though.  Patience, good feelings about each 
other to keep us excited and the jelly worked.  He slid farther and 
farther into me with each stroke after a while.  When I looked down at 
myself I could see the bulge of his cock moving inside me.

He really filled me up and said my tightness was working on him, too.  He 
didn't hit my spot or pinch my clit when a thrust landed, he did those 
things all the time.  His big cock dragged along my clit on the way in 
and out of each stroke.  All the sensations blended together as I lay 
forward onto him and wriggled wildly.  I came quickly, but unfortunately 
so did he.  We each got a great orgasm, but only one.

I collapsed and lay there on him.  It was so comfortable to have a boy 
bigger than me to lay on and his muscles are so firmly soft.  Combine 
that with the glow from the sex and it made me really happy, contented 
and peaceful.

"That was great, Pam.  Nobody's been that active on me before.  I didn't 
hurt you, did I?" he broke the mood by asking.

"Nothing hurt `cept my boobs are a little sore, but that's not what 
you're talking about.  You filled me up, and it was all good.  You get to 
all my places at the same time and got me off fast," I answered.

He squirmed around like he wanted to get out from under me, then said, 
"I'm glad you liked it.  So can we get that drink now?"

"Nuh-uh," I shut that idea down.  "We're going again.  While you're 
recovering, lets just explore each other.  I haven't had much chance at 
that ass of yours.  Roll over."

I got off him, but he hesitated - looking at me like I'm crazy.  He did 
roll over so I could get to his whole back.  I touched and looked at 
everything.  His back is as great as his front - thick firm muscles 
rippling in all the right places.  That includes his ass.  His hips are 
slim, but there's a lot of running power in his glutes and legs.  I 
stroked him then dug my fingers in and growled.  It really made me want 
more of him.

I had him roll over and started with his legs.  They're as powerful in 
front as in back.  I imagined them driving his big cock into me hard, 
fast and often.  His package was right there next.  He was down and soft, 
so I moved his penis out of the way and checked his scrotum and 
testicles.

"So these hurt a lot when they're hit or squeezed?" I asked.

"Yeah, they do.  That's a great way to thoroughly piss off a guy," he 
said, starting to look scared because I had him firmly in my grip.

I kissed each ball and his penis, then worked my way up his front.  I 
told him about thinking that between us, only one has a chest worth 
feeling - his.  He blushed then flexed just to tease me.  It excited me 
to see him rippling like that.  I wanted him to be ready again and 
thought he might get ready sooner if he was looking me over.

"Okay.  Your turn.  How do you want me?" I offered.

He had me lie on my back and stretched out beside me.  He gave me some 
kisses, stroked his way down my neck and shoulders and checked out my 
chest again.

"You say these are sore?" he asked touching my boobs very lightly.

"Yeah.  They're tender when they get squeezed or when they swell from 
sex.  Do you think they're getting too much stimulation?" I replied.

"No such thing as too much sexy stimulation," he joked.  "My sister said 
hers felt like that when she had a lot of growth last year.  She's your 
age and in eighth grade.  You need to come over and meet her ... and 
stuff."

"If a little soreness means these damned flat things are finally growing, 
I'll take it," I said.

"Well, there's more here than there was this morning," he said gently 
prodding around my nipples.

He moved on exploring and touching me everywhere.  His touch was light 
and gentle except one thing he tried.  He put his hands around my waist 
and tried to squeeze so his fingers would touch.

"Damn," he said.  "I've been with one other girl with a waist this small, 
but she was a petite little wisp of a girl.  I could get my fingers all 
the way around her.  You're too solid.  No way can I squeeze all this in 
to a handful."

I gave my usual blushing reaction, but my nipples were already doing all 
they can.  He moved on lower and it made me tingle all over especially 
when he got between my legs.  He stayed away from my pussy, but worked 
over my inner thighs a lot.  He had me roll over and repeated the top to 
bottom touching all down my back.  It felt great on my ass and inner 
thighs again.  He could tell I was getting wet and ready.

"I hope you don't mind me bringing this up again, but here it is," he 
said.

I looked puzzled at what he meant until I saw his upright erection.  That 
big post was as ready as it had been the first time.  It got the same 
kind of smile it got the first time, too.  He motioned for me to get on 
him again.

"I like the way you carried me up here and got me ready - so masterful 
and still tender.  That's how I want you - masterful and on top.  Here, 
put the jelly on both of us and do me like you know how," I instructed.

His hands got busy around my vulva and spread the jelly inside me.  He 
found my spot and lingered there until I was breathing in gasps.  He put 
some on my clit and lingered there until I squealed.  I protested with 
another squeal when he stopped, but then I realized he was getting 
himself ready with the jelly.

He lay on me and I spread wide to let him in.  His weight on me was a 
thrill all by itself.  He fit perfectly so he could kiss me and thrust 
into me at the same time.  He moved all around on me to keep me excited, 
all the while pressing deeper and deeper into me.  I could really feel 
him in there.  There isn't much room for what's in there normally and I 
could feel him moving all that stuff out of the way.  It all made his 
entry that much more thrilling.

He got it all the way in then started short strokes in and out.  Each 
move worked on my spot, clit, all the labia and my legs where they were 
wrapped around him.  His kisses found my mouth, ears and neck.  His hands 
were mostly around my shoulders and I think he was holding himself with 
his elbows.  I held his head gently at first, but later I think I got a 
rough grip on his hair.  He didn't complain.

His strokes got longer as my stretched vagina relaxed and the lubrication 
spread around better.  He started putting an extra push at the end of 
each thrust.  That did it.  I went over into a screaming orgasm.  I 
pushed my hips up into him so hard I lifted him off the bed.  I was 
bucking under him as hard as he was thrusting into me.  That just kept 
going - the thrusts, the bucking, the orgasms and the screaming.  I 
didn't try to count how many times I came.  It might have been just once 
- one huge continuous orgasm.

He finally came, thrust in deep and bellowed like a moose.  I guess I'm 
not the only loud one in bed.  He held it in me and stayed tight against 
me as long as he could to keep me going.  I kept going.  He eventually 
collapsed and slipped out of me with a little pop.

His gushing changed from semen to praise.  He kissed me over and over and 
told me how great I was.

"Damn, you're wild.  All that hip action really got to me.  You weren't 
like that in school either time," from him made me blush, but we couldn't 
see because I was all red from the sex.  "The wildest thing is that you 
wanted me twice tonight.  I've had sex with a lot of people.  They'd see 
my cock and be curious how it felt.  The rare ones who wanted to do it 
twice were all older women - never the girls I found attractive.  No, 
Pam.  I'm not calling you an old lady.  That's what's so great.  The most 
amazing girl ever can handle me twice."

"We still can't do it right in five minutes," I pointed out.  "We better 
not go for it in class."

We lay there for a few minutes basking in each other then I suggested a 
shower.  He was gentle and sweet when he washed me all over.  Yes, my 
boobs were sore and swollen even more.  His washing felt really good, but 
he didn't dwell on sexy parts enough to arouse me.  I washed him and did 
try to excite his penis.  Nothing doing.  He was all fucked out, at least 
for tonight.  Two clean, sweet smelling and very satisfied teenagers went 
down to get drinks in the kitchen.  It was after nine.  What seemed like 
such a short time had lasted over an hour.

Dan made the homework excuse and I agreed.  He dressed and kissed me 
goodnight so sweetly.  I know it took restraint, but he kept his hands 
away from my chest.  Dammit, I wanted him again.

I set my alarm to ring before the news came on, then sat at my desk.  
Homework went okay.  I read the assignments over again and did all the 
questions at the end of the chapters.  I wrote out the question so I 
wouldn't need the book when reviewing.  I followed that with as much 
answer as I needed, then several keywords, one on each line.  At review 
time, I go back and look up those words and write in the definitions.  
That does a great job of bringing it all back to me.  I put biology off 
to the weekend.  History, English and algebra each took less than a half 
hour.  That math is just too easy.  I could do all the problems in the 
three chapters in ten minutes.  It took twice that long because I wrote 
out all the questions.

The alarm went off at nearly eleven o'clock.  I grabbed another drink 
from the refrigerator and plopped down in front of the TV.  The news came 
up right on time.  The opening teaser was a shot of the Lincoln 
Highschool auditorium with sixteen naked Program participants lined up 
across the stage.  I was stepping forward and being introduced by 
Principal Carlson.  I almost spilled the drink.  There was a TV camera 
running during my speech!  I wondered how much they were going to show.  
I sipped the drink and set it down during the opening commercial.

"We have two important stories today.  They're about widely different 
subjects, but amazingly revolve around the same person," the announcer 
started.

He went into the story of my morning rescues complete with the interviews 
with the boys' mothers.  I blushed and my nipples popped at what they 
said.  They showed my feature story from the summer in an inset all the 
while.

"As you know, the Naked in School Program started at our highschools 
today.  Our camera was at Lincoln High for their assembly opening the 
Program.  We'll hear how the Program started with a bang, if you'll 
pardon our slang," the second newsreader said.

She went on to explain a little about the Program, list a few other 
states that have had the Program for a while and mentioned that all of 
this week's participants are volunteers.  They then ran my speech - all 
of it.  The camera was zoomed in on me and just a few of the participants 
behind me.  It caught the "Where are your tits?" crack, Kelly's 
humiliation and reawakening and my admission that I'd just lost my 
virginity.  The newsreader then went into an editorial reinforcing what 
I'd tried to say about the Program.

"A little bird here at the station tells us two more things about Pam," 
said the guy.  "She's been in school all day then worked as a lifeguard 
this evening, so this is likely her first chance to see our newscast.  
It's also her birthday - fourteenth.  Happy birthday, Pam."

I was blushing so hard I almost cried.  They had spent fully half the 
newscast telling about me.  At least if there has to be publicity, this 
was all positive.



Comments to geffo3@yahoo.com

Thanks, Geffo
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