CHAPTER ONE
AMBER
FEBRUARY, 2030
“You really want me to do this, Mom?”
I looked at Karen, my beautiful 17-year-old daughter, and sighed. She just didn't understand. I wondered, and not for the first time, how any daughter of mine could turn out so straight-laced. Then again, I knew the answer to that. It wasn't me, and it wasn't her. It was the world.
A lot had happened since the day, over 26 years ago, when I stepped into Westport Regional Academy to start high school. Heck, a lot had happened since Karen was born. She came into the world that I knew. By the time she had entered elementary school, that world had changed.
It was a backlash that probably should have been predicted. I grew up in a permissive society. Karen grew up after the moralizers had retaken control.
We suffered 8 years under a bible-thumping president who probably wouldn't know how to satisfy a woman if you gave him a map and guide. He had enough people in Congress to support his agenda. It had seeped down to state governments, local governments, even school boards. The Supreme Court wasn't totally corrupted, but it took a while for some of the more egregious laws to be struck down--and only the worst ever were. The First Amendment was gutted enough as it was.
It had been a brutal 8 years, and the 4 before that weren't great. The worm had finally turned a little over two years ago. We elected a president who ran on a platform of permissiveness, and we elected him in a landslide. We elected like-minded members of Congress. This too extended down to the local level. In fact, one of my closest friends was now the mayor of Westport, and another close friend was the head of the school board.
It was my generation, the so-called Naked Generation, finding its political voice at last. We had children. We saw how they were growing up. We didn't like it.
The problem was, had the damage been done? I really worried about kids a few years older than Karen, kids in college now. Kids like Gina Gutierrez, the daughter of friends of my sister Lily. Gina was 21. She spent her whole adolescence under this repression. Her parents tell me she's a mess.
It might not be too late for Karen, but she was resisting.
“I can't believe you want me to go to school naked!” she was saying. “For a whole week! And I can't believe Mr. Benson wants Keith to do it with me!”
“Don't tell me you've never seen Keith naked,” I teased her.
She gasped. “Of course not!” Of course not? They'd been going out for two years! “And look at this!” She had the brochure for The Program. “I'm going to have to be touched! Down there! Keith and I don't do that!”
Oh, God. I had failed my beautiful blonde-haired blue-eyed baby. She and Keith were in love--you could tell just by looking at them--and they'd never touched. Again, I had to ask--this was my daughter?
I sighed. “I think we all need to talk. Keith and his Dad, too.” I picked up the phone.
------------------
Joe Benson, my old pal, brought Keith right over. The four of us sat in the living room.
“Keith's having trouble with this, too,” Joe told me.
“I don't get it, Dad. I don't get why I should be doing this,” Keith said.
“Do you know that spending a week in The Program was how your Aunt Maggie and Uncle Chuck found one another?”
Keith gasped. I turned to Karen. “It's how your Aunt Lily and Uncle Mike met. Do you know that your Aunt Lily pitched her first game at Westport High in the nude?”
“I don't believe it.”
“True story,” I sighed. “There's so much we haven't told you. We were scared to. I saw people, good people, destroyed under the fundamentalists. It had everyone spooked.” I sighed again. “I'll never forget the day I saw Bob Tilling arrested.”
“And Ellie Kirkland,” Joe added, “she couldn't practice psychology anymore. Her books were banned.”
“And Ms. Toranetti lost her teaching license.”
“Thank goodness we fixed that,” Joe said. As president of the school board, Joe was instrumental in getting Ms. T. appointed the Principal of Westport High last year.
“True. And Ellie's practicing again.” I turned to our children. “There was so much we were afraid to tell you. And, because of that, you're repressed and stifled.”
“Don't you ever get horny?” Joe bluntly asked his son. Keith just blushed, and looked down. “Do you know how old I was when I lost my virginity?” Joe asked. Keith just looked at him. “Fourteen.”
“WHAT?”
“As was I,” I added.
“MOTHER!” Karen gasped.
“Your Aunt Lily was 13,” I added.
“And your Aunt Maggie was twelve,” Joe told Keith. He and Karen were just flabbergasted.
I added fuel to the fire. “By the way, me losing my virginity? That's with a boy. I first had sex with another girl when I was eleven.”
Poor Karen. Keith, too. Joe and I had just dropped a nuclear bomb on their entire world view. I felt bad--but I also felt that shock treatment was the only way.
Because I had seen it. I had seen my lovely daughter fight off the signals that she was getting from her own body. I'd seen her about to explode. Keith, too. Those two were so in love, they should be fucking like rabbits by now. I didn't even think either of them masturbated--the damn church we were forced to bring them to when they were kids even railed against that!
After they had digested all this a bit, Karen asked the question we were waiting for: “Did you guys spend a week in school naked, too?”
I smiled at Joe and told them. “Joe and I didn't go to Westport High. We went to a high school that no longer exists. Westport Regional Academy.”
“It's the industrial park on Jacobs Street now,” Joe told them. “But, back then, it was a regional magnet school. Its nickname was Naked High.”
“We spent every day of all four years of high school in the nude,” I concluded.
Now they were really flabbergasted. “What was it like?” Karen finally asked, curiosity winning out over revulsion.
“Great,” I enthused. Joe nodded his agreement. “You guys want to know all about it?” Keith and Karen looked at each other, and, after a minute, slowly nodded.
Joe took the four binders he had brought with him and put them on the coffee table in front of Keith. I reached next to my chair, grabbed four similar binders, and put them in front of Karen. “It's all in there,” Joe said.
“Some students were picked to keep journals. Two journal-keeping students were then partnered up. Joe was my partner.”
“And the journals were combined--we met every month, and made copies for one another, and discussed them,” Joe added.
“So what the two of you have in front of you is identical. It's my journal, and Joe's. One binder for each year of high school.”
“We give you permission to read them. In fact, we encourage it,” Joe smiled. “And this is the perfect time. It's Saturday, and you have the whole next week off for vacation. Plenty of time to read.”
“Prepare, however, to be shocked. They are explicit.” I smiled at Karen. “When you find out who took my virginity, you're going to flip your lid.”
“It wasn't Dad?”
“No.”
“Who?”
I grinned. “You have to read the whole story.”
“I don't know if I'm ready for this,” Karen admitted.
“Honey, I don't either. But I want you to give it a shot.” Karen looked at Keith, and they nodded.
“Keith,” I said, “Why don't you come over here after supper, and start then? You should read them together. You're going to want to talk about this.”
“OK.” Keith and Joe left, Keith promising to come back after supper. After they had left, I turned to Karen and said, “Come on.” I started out of the house, Karen in tow. We headed to my car.
“Where are we going?”
“You'll see.” We drove across town, pulling up to a medical building. I led Karen in to my gynecologist's office. The receptionist smiled and waved us in.
“Hi, Rosa!”
“Amber! Karen! How are you?”
“Great,” I told her. “Listen. Can you give Karen the birth control shot?”
“WHAT?” Karen asked.
“Sure,” Rosa said. “I don't even have to do all that damn paperwork I used to have to do when the wingnuts were running the country.”
“Joe and I are going to let Keith and Karen read our journals,” I told her.
“Good for you!”
“Wait a minute,” Karen burst in. “You want me on birth control? Why? I'm not going to.....I mean we're not going to....”
“Karen,” I interrupted, “trust me on this one. If you read those journals, you will get turned on. I guarantee it. You're a young lady, you have hormones, and you're my daughter. You get halfway through the journal for freshman year and you're going to be squirming.”
“I have managed to keep control of myself for two years,” she said icily.
“I know you have--but you've done it by very carefully avoiding any chance to lose control. You keep such a tight rein on yourself that I don't know how you breathe sometimes. You will find it much harder after reading those journals. I'm not telling you what to do. I'm telling you to protect yourself from possibilities. Karen? Get the shot. It's a fail-safe.”
Karen acquiesced and got the shot. Driving back home, I lowered the first boom on her.
“You'll find out soon enough, so I'll give you a sneak preview. Remember how I said I had a female lover before I had any male ones?” She nodded. “It was Rosa,” I grinned.
“My DOCTOR?”
“Yup.Well, she was technically my second. Though my first was mainly just fooling around, experimenting.”
“I don't know if I'm going to survive these journals!”
We ate, then Keith came over. They looked at the journals with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation. I had to laugh to myself. Hopefully, if my plan worked, the trepidation would soon be gone.
Keith and Karen looked at each other, grabbed the journals, and took them upstairs to read, well-fortified with snacks and sodas.

SEPTEMBER 2003
Tuesday, September 2nd, the day after Labor Day, was my first day at Westport Regional Academy.
I was excited. The minute the concept of the school had been announced, I wanted to sign up. You see, WRA was a nudist school--it had already been nicknamed Naked High--and I had discovered the joy of nudity way back in 6th grade.
Naked High was a natural outgrowth of the Naked In School Program. That’s where kids in a regular, everyday school were chosen to go naked for a week. Back when I was in 6th grade, my sister Lily was in eleventh--that was the year we moved to Westport. Lily got put in The Program. She even had to play baseball nude. Anyhow, the week she was in it, Westport high had their annual carnival. Lily and her boyfriend Mike, who was also in The Program that week, took me. Since it was a school event during their Program week, they had to go in the nude. I decided to join the party--and found I really liked it. In fact, a few weeks later, I even went to school nude, along with my two best friends Tanya Vyshenko and Rosa Gutierrez. So, Naked High was the place I wanted to be.
Rosa and Tan were there, too. That was cool. They were as excited as I was. Of course, we were all most excited about the prospect of naked boys! Well, Tan and I were. Rosa, I wasn’t so sure of anymore.
The thing is, Rosa and I had been lovers for two years. Now, understand, I’m not gay. At best, I’m bi. More accurately, I’m basically straight but don’t mind fooling around with a girl if there are no boys available. There hadn’t, as yet, been any boys available--so Rosa and I took care of one another. To me, that’s all it was. Don’t misunderstand me, I love Rosa. But I wanted dick, and I wanted it something fierce.
I’d thought Rosa felt the same way--but, lately, I’d been doubting that. She was far more into our relationship than I was. I was wondering if she really was gay. It worried me. Not that she might be gay, of course--whatever--but that I might be getting drawn into it. If she thought I was going to settle into a happy lesbian relationship with her, she was mistaken. And I’d made no secret of how badly I wanted a hard cock, but I’m not sure she was getting the message.
Anyhow--Rosa, Tanya and I met up at the entrance to Naked High, all excited about the new experience. We arrived clothed. The nakedness would come later. The first day was orientation--no classes--and we’d be stripping down later, when we got our lockers. Our lockers were extra-large--we could wear clothes to school, especially when the weather got worse, and we’d have plenty of locker space to put them.
We all gathered in the auditorium, the entire freshman class. We were the only class this  year. They were building the school from scratch, and weren’t letting anybody transfer in to make upper classes, so we freshmen would be the only ones there this year. The school--which was huge--was going to be kind of empty with only 250 kids there. However, they told us at orientation that they weren’t using the whole school this year. There were two ‘classroom wings’ and we wouldn’t be using one at all. In fact, that wing wasn’t quite finished yet. 
Anyhow, we all filed into the auditorium. There certainly was a lot to go over.
I looked around at my classmates. As I said, there were 250 of us. We came from Westport and six surrounding towns--Newburgh, Warren, East Warren, Lycoming, Davis, and Southport. So, I knew the Westport people, having gone through middle school with them--but I didn’t know anyone else. That was cool--new boys!
Mr. Tilling got up at the front of the auditorium. He’d left Westport High to become the principal of WRA, because he believed in the concept. He brought Ms. Toranetti with him. Ms. T, a biology teacher who had brought The Program to Westport, was to be the vice-principal at WRA. She’d also teach some units of Freshman Biology class. I had already gotten my schedule and knew she’d be teaching the class I was going to be in. That was good--my sister and her friends raved about Ms. T.
Mr. Tilling talked to us about what Naked High was all about. One thing I guess I knew but hadn’t really registered in my mind--everyone was going to be naked, staff and teachers included. “Take a good long look at your respected principal in his spiffy three-piece suit--it’s the last time you’ll see it,” Mr. Tilling said, cracking us all up.
He talked some about the curriculum. In a lot of ways, this was a normal high school, and a competitive one. Despite the nudity, we’d all have to carry our weight in class.
He talked about the nudity--and some of the exceptions. Thank goodness they had learned the lessons of my sister Lily, who had torn up her leg sliding into home in the nude. Athletic teams would have uniforms. I saw a bunch of big guys who looked like they were probably football players breathe a sigh of relief at that! To be honest, Rosa and I did as well--we were both soccer players. Another exception was that girls on their period could wear panties or a bikini bottom. That was rather a relief!
Then Ms. T. got up to talk about the unusual aspects of Naked High. “It’s not just about nudity,” she said. “This isn’t meant to be a hands-off nudity-has-nothing-to-do-with-sex kind of place. Sexual learning, experimentation, and activity are supported and encouraged. This is a place to learn about your bodies, and others’ bodies.” Sounded good to me!
There were guidelines, of course. “Coercion is right out,” she told us. “No means no. Everyone goes at their own pace--and some people just aren’t attracted to other people, and some people may form exclusive relationships. All of that must be respected. Nobody here will ever be forced or pressured to do anything. Although, I will say, anyone who expects or desires to graduate high school a virgin is probably at the wrong school.” I’ll say! I hoped not! It was bad enough that I graduated middle school a virgin. I didn’t plan to let that particular problem go on much longer. 
I couldn’t imagine, in this day and age, any kid wanting to be a virgin by the end of high school. It’s a permissive society, birth control had been made easy and 100% effective, and STDs had been eliminated. Sex is everywhere. But, I knew there were a few. Some of the nutcase ‘no fun’ religious sects still existed, so I’m sure some dopey parents still put pressure on their kids to ‘wait until marriage’ or some shit. I didn’t buy that for a second. Hell, when I go to buy a pair of shoes, I try on the shoes before I buy them. In fact, and more  to the point, I try on several pairs. One guy, and you don’t get to try him on until after you’ve married him? Not for this girl!
Ms. T. was still talking. And she had a bombshell. “Sex between teachers and students is not prohibited. However, again, there are rules. No coercion still applies--and no horse trading. Students, if any teacher tries to get you to do anything sexual in exchange for a better grade, I want it reported. That is completely out of bounds. And students always have the right to say no for any reason. If you’re being threatened, that also has to be reported. We screen the teachers very carefully so that shouldn’t be a problem. But if it is, we’ll take care of it.”
“Also, students can initiate this if they want, but the same rules apply. Some teachers might not be interested. Some are married, or in other exclusive relationships. Not all married teachers will always say no, by the way--I’m married, but my marriage is open. But if a teacher says no, that must be respected. And some teachers have different tastes.” She pointed to a man sitting on the stage. “This is Mr. Riley, some of you will have him for history. He’s cute, isn’t he?” she grinned. She was right, he was cute. “Well, he’s also gay. So, sorry, girls, he will turn you down.” Everyone laughed at that, Mr. Riley most of all. 
The best part was when she told us about the schedule. Naked High had a longer class day that most schools, now we found out why: a half-hour break in the morning, and an hour and a half for lunch. And the school stayed open after classes ended for a few hours. In other words--and I almost fainted when I realized it--they were giving us time in school to have sex!
I felt like I’d somehow stumbled into utopia.
They even had a place--something called ‘pods’, which she said would make more sense when we took the tour of the school.
Mr. Tilling took over, then, and had something else to tell us. “Since this is an experimental program, we want a record of it, from the students’ point of view. So, some of you have been picked to write journals. This is based mostly on your writing skills in middle school--we picked the better writers for this. 
“Plus, you’re going to be partnered. One guy with one girl. We want you to meet every month and discuss your journals with your partner. We’re going to have you combine the journals, so we get the male and female perspectives. These journals will be seen by you, your partner, me, and Ms. T. And that’s it, unless you give us specific permission otherwise. So do NOT censor yourself.  What you write will help us to understand what our students go through here, for future years. Plus, every student who does this gets extra credit for it.”
When he said that, I had a funny feeling--my writing grades in middle school were very good. I was right--I got picked. My partner was Joe Benson, a guy from Westport who I knew slightly. I didn’t know him well, he was kind of quiet. Ah, well. I could handle that. And I liked to write, so I didn’t have any problem with that part of it.
There were a few more things, then we were led to our lockers. They weren’t kidding, the things were huge. Very handy. We were all commanded to strip.
It became apparent to me that the enthusiasm for getting nekkid varied greatly. I was clothes free in seconds, as were Tan and Rosa. Others seemed to have more problems with it
In fact, I was standing right next to a girl who was having enormous problems with it. And I could see why. She was chubby--really chubby. And she was staring at the lockers with this look of complete despair on her face, her fingers hovering over the buttons on her blouse.
“Are you OK?” I asked her.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she said softly.
“This is a tough school to go to if you can’t get naked.”
“I’m not here by choice, my parents twisted my arm,” she said. Jesus Christ, why do parents do this shit to their kids? “They thought I needed this, because I have no self-confidence. Of course I don’t--if you had this body, would you have any?”
I probably wouldn’t, but I wasn’t going to say that to her. “Ah, it will be OK, you just have to get used to it. I’m Amber, by the way--Amber Woodard.”
“Anastasia Averbuk, but everyone calls me Stacia,” she told me.
“Nice to meet you, Stacia,” I said. She still hadn’t removed a stitch of clothing. “You’re going to have to do it sooner or later,” I told her.
“I know,” she sighed, then started undressing-very slowly.
She finally got it all off. I felt bad, the poor kid was just fat. Being short--a few inches shorter than my 5’6”--didn’t help. She was just round. Of course, the T&A crowd would love her, because that she had. Then again, so did I, and I wasn’t chubby.
I myself had no body issues. Lucky for me, playing soccer tends to keep the flab away. Muscles I had, especially in my legs, but I also had curves. Nice ass, firm boobs halfway between a B and C cup. Nothing wrong with my face. Of course, that often caused me to ask myself why the hell I couldn’t get laid--but I was pretty sure looks weren’t the reason.
But I was looking around--and I loved it. It was like someone deposited me in naked penis heaven. It was wonderful. Short ones, long ones, fat ones, skinny ones--I wanted to drop to my knees and give somebody a blowjob right then and there. Something else I’ve never done. 
Anyhow, we were all led to the cafeteria, so we could get lunch. Then we’d get a big tour of the school. 
I was walking along with Tan and Rosa, and that Stacia girl was walking in front of us. That’s when I heard it. A bunch of boys were standing by us, and one of them let out a “Mooooo!” Obviously directed at Stacia. Damn, this girl was going to have a tough time.
Mr. Tilling heard it. “We will have none of that! Everyone at this school will be treated with respect. If anyone can’t do that, I’ll find out who you are and you will be expelled.” Everyone murmured assent, but, you know, I knew better. Kids would just be more discreet, that’s all. Stacia was in for a hard time.
Anyhow, we got to the cafeteria. I ate with Tan and Rosa. I was going to ask Stacia if she wanted to eat with us, but I lost her in the crowd. Oh, well.
After lunch, we got that tour of the school. It was kind of confusing. It wasn’t a small building, and there were lots of twists and turns. But we found out what the pods were.
They were in a couple of different places, in various ‘connecting’ corridors. They were small cubicles, almost. There were two rows, one on top of the other, with ladders to get to the upper ones, all along the walls of the corridor. Each had a little porthole-type door, which closed. Inside, the floor was a mattress. You could probably fit four or five in there comfortably. They were little fuck-cubicles!
How cool was that?
Anyhow, we spent the rest of the day making brief visits to our classes, so we could meet our teachers. Then we got dressed and went home. I was really excited about this place!
----------------- 
The next day, I had my first full day of classes. That was cool, but I was actually very excited about what happened after school--soccer tryouts.
I loved soccer, I was passionate about the game--and I was good. I put a lot of effort into it, and had long looked forward to playing at the high school level. However, it wasn’t going to be the way I had imagined, I already knew that.
At least we got to wear clothes, that was good. But there was another big problem. WRA had, of course, joined a conference, the North Coast conference. This conference, however, had a screwy rule. You couldn’t have any teams below varsity if you didn’t have a varsity team. So, even though Naked High had only freshmen in it and should only be fielding a freshman team, we were going to have to play varsity. 
We were gonna get killed. And I hated to lose.
Furthermore, since we were a regional school, it wasn’t like we had grown up playing together. In fact, some of us had played against some others. We’d had a good team at Westport Middle School last year--but only two of my old teammates had decided to attend Naked High. One of them was Rosa, who was a goalkeeper. She’d grown up with soccer--her brother Frankie played--but she didn’t join a team until I talked her into it when we met. She got good pretty quickly. My other old teammate who was here was Gabrielle Ondris, a very good defender who usually worked the right side. I was glad to see Gabi here, she was an excellent player.
However, I’d have to work with a whole new, different group of players at my position. You see, I was an attacking midfielder. That’s the playmaker, the person who controls the ball at the offensive end, passing and setting up the offensive plays. I had to work with the outside midfielders, the center midfielder--who played behind me, and was the front of the defense as I was the back of the offense--and, of course, the forwards. And they were all new.
These were called tryouts, but there were only 25 girls there, so there weren’t going to be any tryouts. There weren’t enough to cut. This was the team.
I immediately saw some talent, and recognized a few of the players from middle school games. One was Brianna Crombie, who was from Southport. She was a tall redhead who played sweeper, the back defender. It was her responsibility to stand in front of the goaltender and clean up the mess that got through the rest of the defense. I’d played against her, and she was good. And I liked her attitude--she was like me. She knew she was good, and just did it. She walked right up to Rosa--the sweeper plays very closely with the goalie--and said, “Hi, I’m Brianna--I’m your sweeper. Don’t worry about a thing.” I liked that. She was like me--this wasn’t a tryout. She was good. That was her position. She took it. If the coaches thought that there was somebody better, good luck to them.
I was the same way. It was a kind of soccer tradition that the starting attacking midfielder wore number 10. When I got to the field, I walked right over to the coach, who I didn’t know, and said, “Hi. I’m Amber Woodard, and I’m your number10.” Luckily, the coach--whose name was Alice Nicolosi--did know me. “I’ll bet you are,” she said to me.
And there was one other one I liked immediately. A short girl, strawberry-blonde hair, came up to me. “Hi, I’m Jordan McKinney,” she said. “You don’t know me. I’m from Lycoming, and I was injured when you played us last year. But I know you, and I plan to be on the receiving end of those passes from you this year.”
“Forward?” I asked.
“Goal-scoring machine,” she grinned. 
“Good, I hope so,” I grinned back.
---------------
The first couple of weeks of school were an adjustment. A big one. As much as I loved nudity, going to school every day in the nude did take some getting used to.
Hell, it was a distraction. All those goregous naked male bodies. There was this specimen that sat next to me in English. Jesus. Who can concentrate on English? Somehow, I managed--mostly.
But, I have to say, I was getting more horny by the second. And I couldn’t get anyone to fuck me.
Why didn’t I just ask some guy to do me? Well, I did. The way the pods seemed to have organized themselves is that there was a waiting area. If you were looking for a partner, you hung out there. I found two guys there the first week and asked them, “You wanna fuck?” I got turned down twice. Seems they already had someone they were waiting for and it wasn’t me. Crushes. I hate when people get crushes. Especially when they’re not on me.
I did get settled into classes. I had five all-week classes: English, Spanish, Geometry, History, and Biology. Then there were two that were part week: Gym and Computers were MWF, Art and Cooking were TTh. I wanted to learn how to cook--I sucked at it.
Luckily, both Rosa and Tan were in that class. Why they needed cooking is beyond me--they could both cook. But it was fun to have them in class, however. They were also both in my Biology class. Rosa was also with me in English and History.
I was still trying to sort things out. There were a lot of new people, and a lot of new classes, and all that nudity. I was trying to meet people--especially guys--and it wasn’t going particularly well. I guess I put some people off--I’m not a shrinking violet by any  means. And it seemed like a lot of the guys were scared. Well, some weren’t, but there was a quandry. The ones that weren’t scared were the ones I didn’t want any part of. Alex Randall, for instance. He was from Westport, so I knew him. And he was God’s gift to just about anything--just ask him, he’ll tell you. I wasn’t impressed. I’m sure he’d have gone for a roll in the hay if I had suggested such--but I wasn’t that desperate, and I had a little more taste than that. Besides which, I noticed he hooked up with some statuesque buxom bronzed goddess almost right away. Figures.
There were plently of cute guys that seemed nice, though--but they all seemed intimidated by me. Jesus, I wasn’t that bad, was I? At middle school, I’d had the reputation of being a bit of a bitch, but I never thought I was that bad. I don’t know if the reputation followed me, or what--but I didn’t think I was that bad. Of course, if I didn’t get laid soon, I might turn into a bitch. Damn, I was horny.
The soccer team was starting to sort itself out--well, as much as it could. Let’s just say we had some holes. Some big holes. I think the coach did the best she could, but it wasn’t easy.
Hey, I was good, as were Rosa and Gabi, I knew that. The sweeper, Brianna, turned out to be as good as advertised. And Jordan was an excellent forward, and we quickly developed a rapport.
Some of the other players at least had potential: Torie Dallas, who was the center midfielder, was decent. She was a tall black girl with power and enough speed. Center midfield is basically, the defensive counterpart to my position--she was my backup. She was talented, and I liked her as a person.
We got another outstanding defender to play opposite Gabi--her name was Mia Venzi. Of course, she got teased about that first name--you know, because of the most famous female American soccer player ever, Mia Hamm--but she took it good-naturedly. She was quiet and intense, but took it seriously and had talent.
Outside of that, though, we had holes. Our stopper--the front center defender--was still learning the game. Our wing midfielders were inconsistant. And then there was Jenna.
Jenna became the other forward, next to Jordan--Jenna Zambrano was her name. That easy rapport I developed with Jordan did not happen with Jenna. I hated her almost instantly.
Don’t get me wrong, she had talent, especially speed. But she didn’t work. She wanted the glamour and none of the dirty work. She was pretty, popular, spoiled, drew guys like bees to honey, and got anything she wanted by flashing her baby-browns. In other words, she was a Princess. I fucking hated Princesses. I didn’t like them much in general, but I especially did not want them on my soccer field.
Look, the coaches made her a starter because they were enamored with her speed--and, to be honest, because there wasn’t many other options. Jordan was the only forward on the team that was worth a damn. So Jenna was a starter almost by default.
Hey, I figured it was my job to help her get better. Besides being the person who was going to be passing the ball to her, I had been elected co-captain (Brianna was the other, a decision I fully agreed with). So, I tried to work with her. Work just wasn’t in her vocabulary.
I quickly started wishing there was someone else. I even tried to get there to be someone else. There was another person on the team, Taylor Buckman, who was inexperienced but showed talent and a willingness to work. Unfortunately, she didn’t see herself as a forward--she wanted to be the attacking midflielder. Yeah, my position. Not that she wanted to take it or anything, she wanted to be my backup. I didn’t have the heart to tell her my backup doesn’t play unless I get hurt. Well, she might have figured that out on her own, because she was also taking plays at the two wing midfield spots, positioning herself to be the all-around midfield backup. That was cool, but I thought she might be able to play forward. She didn’t have Jenna’s speed, but she had good speed, worked, and could receive a pass. Playing forward scared her, though.
The funny thing is, we almost managed to win our first game, against the school I almost went to, Westport High. We lost 2-1, but had a 1-0 lead into the first half. We got an early goal. I made what I must say was an abolutely goregous pass to Jordan, and she pounded it home. Unfortunately, Westport quickly realized what a threat Jordan was and started marking her very tightly. And they quickly realized what a threat Jenna wasn’t. They left her open all day long--didn’t make a bit of difference. And they  just pounded away at our good-but-young defense until they tied the game, then won it. 
Westport was starting a freshman--only one, we were starting eleven! But it was a friend, Tiffany Veras. I went over and said hi before the game.
Tiffany was my first friend when I moved to Westport. We were a lot alike and had both liked soccer. She was also the first person I ever had sex with--though it was more just playing around. Heck, we were eleven at the time. The problem was, Tiffany’s mother found out--and she was a bitch and a prude. After that, I was never allowed to hang with Tiff. We saw each other in school and at soccer, but that was it. It sucked--I missed her. And I wished she was here. She told me she’d have loved to have gone to Naked High--but there was no way her mother was going to go for that.
After playing that game, I really wished she were here. She, you see, was a forward, and a good one--she and I had had a great rapport. Damn, the damage we could do with Tiffany alongside Jordan instead of Jenna! Ah, well.
It was going to be a long season. I hated losing.
----------
One thing I had started wondering about was the teachers. I was wondering how they were dealing with it--but didn’t know how to approach any of them to ask. 
You could guess with some of them. For instance, I had Vinnie Benson for English. Vinnie was Maggie and Joe’s older brother--and he was a stud, let me tell you. The thing is, he didn’t look all that comfortable with the nudity. Ms. T. didn’t seem to have any problems with it. I had a young geometry teacher, Miss Peterson, and she seemed very uncomfortable with it. God knows why, she was gorgeous. The teachers all knew what they were signing up for--but I guess the reality was a bit more nervewracking than the thought. Hell, I could see that--it was harder for me than I thought it was going to be.
It was funny that it was the older teachers who seemed to have the least problem with it. Mr. Tilling just walked the halls in the altogether, not a care in the world. I have to say, that man wasn’t bad looking at all for a guy in his late forties. 
And then there was Mrs. Winchell, the art teacher. She was in her fifties. She--to be honest about it--was saggy and flabby, out of shape. And she just didn’t care. I loved it. I guess it comes from being an art teacher, or something.
However, the person I ended up discussing it with--three weeks into school, on Monday September 22--was Mr. Riley, my History teacher.
I had him last period, and asked to stay after to ask him a question about that day’s lecture. He answered it, we had a nice talk about it. I was sitting at a chair beside his desk, and he reclined in his chair. “So, Amber, tell me--how are you getting along? Getting used to the nudity?”
“Yeah,” I told him. “I have no problem with being naked--except for the fact that I’m horny and can’t get any boys to do anything about it!”
He laughed. “Well, Amber, I’ve seen you in class. You’re a ball of fire. You probably scare them away.”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Look, teenaged boys aren’t known for brimming with self-confidence, you know what I mean? They’re easily intimidated.” He laughed. “Then again, it could be worse--try being gay.”
“I’m bi,” I told him, “and I actually have a girlfriend. Getting gay sex is not my problem.” He cracked up at that. “But I’m still a virgin with guys, and I’m sick of it.”
“Believe me, I know the whole horniness thing.” He lowered his voice a little. “Here’s a secret. I’m attracted to high school boys--your age, I mean. Now, believe me, I do not teach because I like teenaged boys. I teach because I love to teach and I love history. You’re already one of my favorite students and I have no sexual interest in  you whatsoever.” I giggled at that. “And I have never ever laid a single hand on one of my students.” He sighed. “Now, here I am, and I’m told I can, that it’s allowed. And my students are in front of me naked every day. The problem is, I’m gay. And that still carries a stigma. And it especially carries a stigma with 14-year-old boys. If I approached the wrong kid, I could really freak him out. It would be easier if I were straight.”
“It would be a lot easier if you were straight, because half the girls in the school would fuck you in a minute,” I grinned at him. “With me right at the top of the list.”
He laughed. “Thank you, I think. Anyhow, you see what I mean. So, believe me, I know from horniness.”
“Well, Mr. Riley, if I ever approach a boy and he tells me he’s gay, I’ll let you know.”
“Knowing the ones that are open to it does help, yes,” he grinned. “All I can do is let it be known that I’m available, and do it subtly.” He laughed again. “Let’s face it, I’m a pervert. And this place is Perverts’ Paradise.”
“It is at that, isn’t it?” I agreed.
“Yup. A lot of teachers are having trouble adjusting. Eileen Peterson’s having a devil of a time. She’s very horny, very bi-and quite shy. She wants to pounce on half her class and can’t bring herself to do anything. This is not something they teach in education classes in college, let me tell you.”
“I can imagine!”
We chatted for a while, and then I left. It was cool. Mr. Riley was good people, a great teacher, and easy to talk to. It was good to know that this wasn’t easy for the teachers, either. There was so much sex around--but it was mostly sexual tension. Sometimes it felt like a dam was going to burst.
---------------
The following Monday, the dam burst--unfortunately, not for me. I got to lunch, and met Tan and Rosa--and Tan was plainly excited.
“Guess what?” she said softly but excitedly. “I lost my virginity this morning!”
“You did?” I said. “With who?”
“Connor Enfield.”
“The quarterback?” Rosa asked. “Wow, he’s a dreamboat.”
“That he is,” Tan giggled. “I liked him right away. He’s so cute and so sweet, and I’ve been watching him since school started. He must have noticed--because, at morning break, I was hanging around the pods--and here he came. He walked right up to me and asked me if I wanted to go in.”
“And you did,” Rosa said.
“Yup. We got into one of the pods, and we started kissing, and he was running his hands all over me, and I was excited but nervous. He must have noticed, because he said, ‘Tan, is anything wrong? If you don’t want to do anything, we don’t have to.’ I told him that I did want to but it was my first time. He told me it was only his third.
“So, he was real gentle, and worked me up, and kissed me all over--then he got me off with his hand. Then we did it.”
“Did it hurt?” Rosa asked.
“Just a little, just at first,” Tan said. “I didn’t have a hymen, I lost that years ago horseback riding, so I didn’t have to worry about that. And he got me nice and wet. So it really wasn’t bad.”
“Did you cum?” Rosa asked.
“Not quite, he was a little quick,” Tan laughed. “He would’ve gone again--he was still hard--but the bell was about to ring and we had to clean up and get to class. He was all apologetic that I didn’t cum. It was OK, I came with his hand before.” She grinned. “We’re meeting after I finish eating to try again. Plus he asked me out.”
“That’s awesome!” Rosa said. I echoed that. And I really was happy for Tan, genuinely. But I was also as jealous as you can believe. Connor Enfield was a first-class grade-A hunk. And he’d picked Tan.
Damn, damn, damn. 
I went down to the pods myself after I finished eating. Instead of trying the direct approach, I decided to just wait there, looking available. Nothing.
If I didn’t get laid soon, I was going to explode.
The month, my first in high school, came to an end--and I was still a virgin. I met with Joe Benson to exchange journals. If I’d thought there might be a possiblity there, I was sadly mistaken. Joe was scared of his own shadow, not to mention a girl like me. Shit, weren’t there any guys with any balls at this damn school?

--end of chapter-