Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 **********ADULTS ONLY**********
   Naked in School, the Prequel (C) by Erotin Thraller
   The Naked In School series began with Karen Wagner.  We met her when she
was chosen to be in The Program.  Society then was quite different from the
way we know it.  We accepted those changes as being far into the future,
but maybe that time is not so far away.  This prequel is the story of how
those changes began, changes which help us understand how Karen Wagner
became the girl we met in that first story.
Codes: exhib, voy, mf, NiS
   ~~~~
   "Good morning, all you early risers!  Welcome to radio KSEE.  This is
Java Jim, your coffee pal, here to bring you the news of the day, updates
on Monday morning traffic, and a lattè laughs, so stick with us, stay
tuned, and please don't hit that snooze button or go back to sleep.  The
world is waiting just for you, so let's be for gettin' up and gettin' at
'em.  Remember this morning to smile at yourself in the mirror, just for
practice, you know, because if you don't smile first, you sure can't count
on anyone else a-smilin' at you.  This is your Morning Show on KSEE, and
I'm your morning companion, Java Jim, here to welcome you to another great,
wonderful, lovely day!  Now, let's see what we can see.
   "Oh, a strange thing happened to me on the way to the studio this
morning.  If you're in your car, like on your morning commute, then listen
up!  Hey!  This is really neat, especially for you guys.  You know that
lattè stand on A-Street, just south of Sixth?  Yep, that's the one!  It's
painted like a Holstein cow.  It's called 'Cow Girls.' Well, I'm here to
tell you this morning the girls who work there absolutely, positively do
not look like cows!  Not at all.  Not any part of them.  And a lot of them
is showing!
   "You see, I pulled in there a few minutes ago for my morning caffeine
fix.  I mean, like I can't get from the freeway to our broadcast studio
without an extra jolt of java.  Yeah, just like you.  Are you awake yet? 
Anyway, I pulled up to the drive-up window, and my favorite barista leaned
out the window to take my order, and I nearly passed out right there behind
the wheel.  I mean, she was topless!  Well, almost.  She had these little
blue pasties on her (am I allowed to say this on the air?) Okay, what she
wore covered only the very tip of (Oh, I can't say that either?) Well, uh,
except for these little blue stars, all the rest of her, uh, bosom was
bare!
   "I asked what was going on, and she only laughed and said there are now
so many lattè stands in town that they have to do something to attract
attention.  Boy, she sure got the attention of your old coffee buddy, Java
Jim.  So I'm spreading the word, like I'm doin' you this big favor.  If you
want a treat, a really great eyeful, along with some good coffee, then just
stop in, drive in, look in, or however you want to take in the sights. 
Even if you're not awake yet, get up and get going!  Go to 'Cow Girls' and
grab a cup.  No, I mean the java, not the girl.  Don't grab her.  Just
look. Trust me, the view is worth it!  And remember, you heard it first
right here from your coffee buddy, Java Jim.  Now, it's time for more
music."
   While the tunes were playing, I turned to Gina, my engineer, a
sharp-looking girl in her own right.  Trained by our corporate office right
after she graduated from high school, she was probably nineteen, and at
that moment she was wearing Levi shorts and a tube top.  She was a good
worker, and we made a good team.  Beyond that, I knew very little about
her. Having just completed my studies at the university, I was still
working the job which had paid for my education.  I hoped, eventually, to
leave the job and move on, but for now it was comfortable to be done with
classes and school restrictions, so I could have fun.  Before I could
speak, she challenged me.
   "Are you straight with what you just said?" she asked.  "You are
kidding, aren't you?"
   "Honest to heaven, I'm telling you what I saw."
   "And that's it?" she asked.  "What else did you see?"
   "Well, there were a few protesters on the sidewalk, holding up signs
about 'blight in the neighborhood,' and 'skin is a sin' stuff like that."
   "So you drove right by the protesters to get coffee?  Why did you choose
that stand?  Are you sure you weren't just curious to see why the
protesters were there?"
   "No, that's the same stand I stop at nearly every morning.  The
barista's name is Kristi, and I was already turning in as usual before I
even saw the picketers." She grinned, obviously not believing me. 
"Honest," I assured her.
   "And this Kristi ...she wore no bra?  She was topless?"
   "Except for those two little blue stars.  Go on down there and see for
yourself," I dared her.
   "Now, wouldn't I look great at an espresso stand staring at a naked
girl?"
   "Gina, look at yourself.  You have more skin exposed than you have
covered."
   "We're talking about your barista, not me," she laughed, but I sensed
that Gina was glad I had personally noticed her.  And how she was dressed.
   I guess I am a product of my generation.  Back in the 70's, long before
I was born, there was something of a clothing revolution.  Skirts got
whacked so short that every girl showed her legs.  In fact, skirts became
so short that girls just assumed everyone around would see their panties.
They must have enjoyed showing off, because panties soon gave way to thongs
...a garment so uncomfortable that no girl would ever wear one unless she
wanted the exposure those thongs provided.  Thongs were a way of rebelling,
legally doing what society would not allow.
   During these years, as I grew up with sex blatantly flashing at me from
every media, I was painfully aware that society was somehow pretending that
none of this was happening.  People were just pretending to be modest. 
Meanwhile, a world-wide revolution was underway.  In a way it was
undercover, too, like in the Middle East, all those women who were forced
to wear burkas (covering them head to toe) secretly rebelled by wearing
lacy, scanty underwear beneath their black robes.  Of course, we would
never have known that, except the lingerie companies reported the spike in
sales in those countries.
   All around the world, society expected women to remain completely
clothed in public, even when women were becoming so anxious to show their
assets that thousands of them began posting naked photos of themselves on
the internet.  The invention of the digital camera allowed every home to
become a nude photography studio, and women were the first to take
advantage of the new technology.  Surprisingly, many of the women didn't
wait for their men.  They stripped down and took naked pictures of
themselves, then posted them on-line for people all over the world to ogle.
So much for modesty.  So much for being shy.
   Well, that's the atmosphere I grew up in, and I recognized what a
contradiction there was between what Gina was saying and what she was
wearing.  I called her on it.  "The difference between how you and Kristi
are dressed today," I told her, "is only a matter of inches."
   "Well," those are very important, ah, inches," Gina giggled.  "I'm sure
I could never go that far." She was suddenly serious, "You're serious.  All
she wore was pasties over her nipples?"
   "That's all I saw.  As for the rest of her, well, I couldn't see below
the window." In spite of myself, I laughed.  "Maybe if you went down there,
she would let you see what else she's wearing."
   "Forget it," Gina laughed, suddenly embarrassed.  She tugged at her tube
top, as if concerned that she might be revealing more than she intended. 
Then she glanced over at me with a quizzical expression.  "I wonder if
that's the only place in town where baristas are dressed like that?  Do you
suppose there are others?"
   "I can find out," I replied just as Gina signaled me the music was
ending.
   "All right, all you early risers and all you commuters out there on your
way to work, Good Morning!  It's a beautiful day, especially if you're a
lattè lover who's been through the drive up at 'Cow Girls.' Moooo!  Today,
those girls are udderly terrific!
   "Now, listen up: My engineer just asked a question, and I'm wondering if
any of you out there have the answer: Is that the only place in town where
coffee is being served by girls in pasties?  Give us a call here at KSEE
and let us know."
   Gina punched the buttons, playing more music, and the phone lines began
to light up like it was New Year's Eve on Times Square.
   I'm really not sure how we got through the remainder of the morning
show. I mean, it was like a circus.  We had calls giving the addresses of a
dozen or more other places where girls were wearing lingerie or bikinis,
and a couple of others were down to pasties, like the one I saw.  A few
people called to complain about espresso stands with girls showing so much
skin, how they wanted coffee not a strip-show.  My boss called and said our
ratings were sure to go up if I could keep up the interest in this topic.
   So I asked him, "How about a contest?"
   "Such as?"
   "Well, I was thinking about seeing just how far these lattè stands might
take this idea of how they dress their baristas.  Or how they undress them.
What I'm getting at is like 'How far will these girls go?'"
   "Careful, Jim," he interrupted.  "We don't want trouble.  You remember
what happened in Sacramento, don't you?"
   "Oh, yes," I assured him.  "A station there had a water drinking
contest. What did they call it?  Something about getting a Wii if you
didn't pee?
   "Something like that," the boss replied, "only a woman drank so much
water she died and it cost the station 16 million dollars!"
   "Well, what I'm thinking would only cost $1,000.  Can you handle that?"
I asked.
   "Keep talking."
   "Okay, so we announce a contest tomorrow saying I will stop at a
different lattè stand each morning.  No one knows where I will stop except
me, and I'll award a thousand dollar prize to the first barista who is
totally naked when I arrive."
   "Can we trust you to be impartial?" he asked.
   "She'll have to be naked before I get there ...no stripping after I'm
arrive.  I'll take pictures when I first get to each stand.  No picture, no
prize.  Okay?"
   Gina was obviously eavesdropping on our conversation, for as soon as it
was over she exploded.  "Are you out of your ever-lovin'...?  I can't
believe you would try a fool stunt like that.  The police will have a
heyday.  Look at all the arrests they'll make.  If someone gets hurt,
you'll be liable.  In fact, they might even charge you for promoting
indecency."
   "Is that a law?" I asked.
   "I don't know," she grinned.  "But there could be."
   "How can a little nudity hurt anyone?" I asked.
   "Nudieness is in the eye of the beholder, I guess." She seemed to be
softening her attitude a bit.
   I decided to stick with my idea.  "We'll see tomorrow."
   "That's probably all not you'll see," Gina laughed.  "I'll bet you will
really like that."
   "Oh, I love my job," I replied, suddenly aware that Gina was expecting
me actually to find a naked barista.  I wondered if anyone really would
strip down for a thousand dollars.  No, it was really not for a thousand
dollars.  We were only offering a chance at the money.  There might be a
dozen naked baristas in town, but if I didn't stop where they worked, there
was no prize.  Stripping naked in this contest would be like buying a
lottery ticket.  That's all.  But it would be fun, I decided, and it sure
wouldn't hurt our station's ratings.
   Later that evening, I called the boss and clarified the rules of our
contest.  Then we were ready.  On Tuesday morning I promoted the contest on
the air.  Oh, I should add that on the way to work I stopped at 'Cow Girls'
again, but my favorite barista was wearing a tank top.  She simply smiled
and took my order.  That was before I announced the contest, so I didn't
say anything about how she was dressed.
   That afternoon, I purchased new batteries and an extra memory chip for
my digital camera, hoping to give it a good workout the next few mornings.
Then I Googled a list of all the lattè stands in the city, as well as a few
in the suburbs, and laid out a possible route to visit several on the way
to work.
   Wednesday came.  I was up early, not sure how many lattè stands I might
have to visit before I found a contestant.  Even so, I intended (mostly for
my own satisfaction) to photograph every barista at every stand I visited,
regardless of how they were dressed.  That should make an interesting
collection, I thought.
   Trying to look my part, I dressed a bit nicer than usual.  Since nobody
sees me behind the microphone, I'm usually rather sloppy at work.  Today,
however, I wore slacks and a nice shirt.  Then I picked up my camera bag,
and hit the freeway.  Just to be fair, I had chosen my first stop at a
stand most of the way across town.  This part of town was unfamiliar to me,
but my GPS directed me right up to the drive up window.  I had my camera
ready, and when the girl opened the window, I snapped her picture.
   "You're Java Jim!" she exclaimed, her bare boobs bouncing free and bare.
"Look!" she exclaimed, hopping up on the counter so I could see the rest of
her.  And a lot of her there was to see.  I wouldn't say she was fat, but
she certainly sported more pounds than most naked girls would be proud to
flaunt.  She seemed eager to be seen.  So I snapped another picture, then
asked if I could come in to take additional shots.  She readily agreed.
   Inside, two other girls were equally naked, but neither any more
attractive than the first girl at the window.  Even so, I was quickly
surrounded with pink-tipped nipples, dimpled buns, and smiling girls
preening and posing for my camera.  It was an exciting experience, but I
had to admit (though I would never have told the girls) that none of the
three were as attractive naked as they probably would have been clothed. 
Even so, I took their names and assured the first girl at the window that
she would receive the prize.
   "Just come down to the studio later when you're free, and we'll give you
the money," I told her.
   "Should I come down there like this?" she asked, indicating her bare
body.
   "On the trip down," I told her, "you had better wear something.  Of
course, once you get down there, and we're actually making the
presentation, well, we may ask you to, you know, strip off like you are
now."
   "Whatever," she laughed, her boobs bouncing gaily.  "I need the money."
   A few minutes later, as I approached the studio, I quickly realized
something was amiss.  There was a traffic jam in the underground parking
garage, and I ended up leaving my car several blocks away.  Even at that
early morning hour, the sidewalks were jammed with people, all curiously in
a hurry, and when I arrived at the main entrance I realized the lobby was
crowded.  I mean, the place was packed.  With girls.  Women.  Young and
old. None was wearing clothes.
   "Are you Jim?" a policeman asked, as I stopped on the sidewalk.
   "I am.  What's up?"
   "If there was a way I could arrest you, I would," he declared, "but I
haven't found any law you've broken.  And there are way too many of those
bare broads for me to arrest all of them.  This is one genuine mess!" he
muttered as he turned away.
   "Where are you going?" I asked.
   "Where?" he asked.  "I'm going to get me a cup of coffee that is, if
there are any shops still open.  I think all the baristas are here, thanks
to you!" He marched off down the sidewalk.
   So much for law enforcement, I thought.  Then I remembered a side door
which led to the freight elevator.  Fearing one of the naked girls might
recognize me, I used that devious route to reach the broadcast studio on
the top floor.  Fortunately, the freight elevator opened inside the studio,
rather than out in the hallway, because a bevy of naked women packed the
hallway and pushed against the broadcast studio entrance.  Bare boobs,
pierced navels, shaved and hairy girls of every size, shape, and color were
everywhere.  The noise from their chatter was deafening.
   "What do they want?" I asked Gina.
   "I said you were asking for trouble," Gina snipped.  Her "I Told You So"
voice was tinged with more than a hint of wry humor.  Compared with the
crowd visible through the window outside the broadcast booth, Gina (once
again in her tube top and Levi shorts) was a physical anomaly, since she
was the only girl I could see who was wearing any clothes.
   "What are we going to do?" I asked.
   "WE...?" Gina snipped again.  "This is not a we-problem.  Those girls
are yours.  This contest was your idea, so it's up to you to deal with
...with ...them." She indicated the bare crowd.
   "Yes, but I did not ask them to come here.  Not like this.  I'm supposed
find naked baristas where they work, not here!"
   Gina simply scowled, and I presumed she was justifiably ticked because I
was late for my morning show.  I listened for a moment to the music coming
from the overhead speakers, to determine what was being broadcast over the
air.  Apparently Gina had plugged in one of the digital tapes prerecorded
to cover for my absence.
   She saw me listening, then she explained, "I didn't know when you were
coming.  Or if you were stuck in traffic.  I didn't know what else to do."
She paused a moment, then continued, "So I started that tape.  And I sort
of..." she smiled sweetly.  "Well, I invited any naked baristas who were
listening to come on down to the station and you would meet them here."
   "You what?" I couldn't believe what she had just told me.  "You told
them to come here?"
   She grinned, "Well, yes.  I guess I did." Suddenly she frowned.  "Don't
tell me you already found a winner?"
   "Oh, yes," I told her.  "Would you believe at my very first stop this
morning?  There were three naked girls waiting, hoping I would come." I
showed Gina the pictures on the LCD screen of my camera.
   "Not much of a looker, I'd say," she grinned, "but I guess it takes all
types.  Anyway, she's got a really nice body."
   "My feelings exactly, but I was hoping for a real beauty."
   "That's interesting," Gina said, puzzled.  "I thought any naked body
with boobs was appealing to guys.  Don't tell me you're different."
   "Okay, I'm different.  I have an appreciation for ladies which requires
them to be somewhat well proportioned.  By that I mean, they need to have
brains as well as beauty.  Also, their bodies should be balanced, not
chubby, flat, or contorted.  There's more to beauty than boobs, if that's
what you mean."
   She smiled approvingly, then speculated, "It would be interesting to
catalogue the characteristics of those women out there.  You know, to see
what kind of women will strip for a contest." She paused a moment, grinned
again and said, "Maybe we could talk with them?  You know, maybe get them
to fill out a questionnaire?"
   "That might be a good way to deal with them," I agreed.  "They're here,
and they sure expect to get something."
   "So maybe we have them enter for a later, second drawing?"
   "How about, if we photographed them...," I asked.  "I wonder how many of
them would pose for a picture?"
   "You know what?  I'm just curious enough to find out.  You are serious,
aren't you?"
   "You bet.  Except I don't have enough space on my memory cards for that
many pictures."
   "Can't you go buy some more?  This is a chance of a lifetime!"
   Surprised by Gina's sudden willingness to share in this adventure, I
explained what I had found on the sidewalk out front.  "Even the police
have abandoned us to our problem," I explained.
   She studied my face for a few moments.  I could see the wheels turning,
and I wondered what she was thinking.  She totally surprised me when she
said, "I can get the cards for you, if you'll tell me exactly what you
need."
   "Two four-gig SD cards," I told her, "but how are you going to get
through that crowd of women?"
   She grinned as she pulled her tube top over her head.  "I'll blend in
with the rest." Then she shucked out of her shorts, and said, "Money?" I
gave her three twenties, and she slipped through the door and was gone,
disappearing quickly amidst the crowd of naked women in the hall.  Rats!  I
thought.  She stripped, and I didn't even get a good look at her.
   After Gina left, I turned to the studio supply cabinet, where I found a
tripod suitable to use with my camera.  The studio includes two small
conference rooms, each with a door into the hallway and also a door linking
the two together.  Excellent, I decided.  We'll set up our photo studio
here.  In the second room I arranged the tripod, attached my camera, and
measured the appropriate distance, where I taped two large X's to the
carpet.  Good old duct tape!  Each X marked the spot for the girls to
stand, which would greatly speed up focusing the camera lens.  Already, I
had determined it would be best to take five shots of each one a full
frontal pose, left and right profiles, a full back shot, and a second
frontal up close.
   Hardly had I completed my arrangement when Gina returned, slipping
through the hallway door into the back conference room.  "It's a madhouse
out there!" she exclaimed, handing me a small bag containing two SD chips.
   "Don't tell me you went outside like that?" I asked, suddenly, for the
first time, coming face to face with my engineer's nudity.  I stepped back
to get a good look at her very visible assets.  Now, I had seen plenty of
her previously, since she had a preference for wearing short shorts and
tube tops, so I knew she had a great body, but now all of her was on
display.  Those "inches" made all the difference in the world.  She was
beautiful.  Her breasts, which had usually been squished under a tube top,
were much fuller than I expected, and they swayed seductively as she moved.
Her pubis was trimmed neatly, and her tan lines indicated she spent a lot
of time in the sunshine in a very tiny bikini.  "Nice," I told her.
   "Thank you.  I never dreamed I'd do anything like this," she smiled,
"but with all that circus," she nodded toward the hallway, "I thought,
'What do I have to lose?' Besides," she grinned mischievously, "I decided I
owe you something for inviting all these women to come here."
   Ignoring her statement, I reminded her, "You didn't answer my question."
   "The answer is "No." I bought your chips at the courtesy shop
downstairs. Tom used to stock a variety of film, so I thought he probably
had made the digital switch." She paused and frowned, "You know what?  I've
known Tom a long time, and we always talk and kid each other.  This time,
his eyes never met mine.  All he looked at was ...well, down here." She
swept her hand across her breasts.
   "So how did that make your feel?" I asked, expecting some critical
feminist retort.
   Instead, she responded, "Terrific!" she smiled broadly, then added,
"Now, give me a few minutes on the computer to create a questionnaire for
these women to fill out.  We need to know something about each one in order
to classify their photos."
   As she crossed the room to the computer and sat down, I was momentarily
puzzled by the fact that she had not dressed when she returned.  Instead,
her shorts and top lay in the corner where she had tossed them earlier, and
she faced me unashamedly naked.  For the next few minutes, while still
naked, she sat at the computer and composed a questionnaire.  I leaned over
her shoulder, very much aware of her exposed beauty, as we discussed the
details of the information we wanted ...the basic stuff like name, address,
phone, height, weight, measurements, marriage status, job, hobby interests.
As we talked, I kept mentally filling out one of the forms for Gina and
wondering if she would allow me to photograph her while she was still
naked. Then, while the printer ran off a hundred and fifty copies of the
form, we set up an office for Gina in the first conference room.  The girls
would come in there to fill out the questionnaire.  Gina would assign each
a number to identify the photos, and then she would send them one at a time
into the next room where I would photograph them.
   Finally, after we were all set, I just had to ask, "Are you going to get
dressed?"
   She hesitated only a moment, then said, "No.  I think the women out
there will be more comfortable with what we're doing if I'm dressed like
they are."
   "You mean undressed?" I corrected.
   She grinned as she struck a seductive pose, "You've seen it.  You name
it." And with that she opened the door and began instructing the women to
line up in groups of eight.  Finally, she invited the first group to come
in and sit at the conference table.  There, she gave each girl one of our
information forms, and just like that we were in business.  Gina is very
efficient, I thought.  And very pretty.
   Remarkably, the system worked.  Even more remarkable, the girls did not
riot, push or shove.  Instead, they behaved like perfect ladies (naked
though they were) and each posed on the appropriate X, turned as I
directed, and smiled for the camera.  Only a few of the girls departed,
deciding not to be photographed.  Most appeared to take the idea of having
their picture taken as a compliment, and of that number several were
obvious exhibitionists who didn't want to stop posing after only five
pictures.  With great difficulty, I controlled my curiosity, curbed my
desires, and kept the line moving.  I was glad I had put the X's on the
floor, because that expedited lens focusing immensely.  It also allowed me
to look more extensively at each one of the women.  I loved it.  They
seemed not to mind my staring.  I was also glad I had dressed nicely,
because even though the ladies were naked, I think they respected me more
for looking somewhat professional at what we were doing.
   At two o'clock, Gina ordered pizza, and we took a short break.  When I
tried to pay the pizza deliveryman he refused, saying the view was worth
all the wages he earned that entire day.  In return, Gina spread her arms
and preened for him.  Once more I questioned in my mind why she was still
naked, since she could have put her clothes back on any time after
returning from downstairs.  I decided right then that I really do not
understand women.  On Monday she had been upset over the contest nudity,
saying she could never do that, and now here she was working in the buff.
Weird.
   "Are you comfortable?" I asked, after the deliveryman was gone and we
were sharing the pizza.
   "Surprisingly, yes," she smiled.  "Very much so."
   "Even with me still dressed?" I asked, becoming even more confused.
   "I see nothing appealing about naked men," she replied.  "Their bodies
are a matter of function, like a tool.  Nobody glorifies a hammer.  Or a
wrench," she laughed.  "But the body of a lady is classic art.  Consider
all those great paintings: Nudes!"
   "What about the statue of David?" I asked.
   She shrugged.  He's an exception.  Not many men are that well built. 
But women?  Well, the body of a lady is intended to be displayed.  Admired.
Enjoyed.  I think that's why I've been wearing as little as I could, just
enough to keep from being arrested.  In fact, I believe the laws ought to
be changed so it is legal for women to go naked wherever they want,
whenever they desire."
   "You're kidding." For a long time I had a hunch many women felt that
way, but I was amazed to hear Gina admit it so readily.  "You can't be
serious," I teased.
   "I'm deathly serious, and that entire bevy of naked women still waiting
patiently out there in the hall is all the proof I need.  They want to be
seen, but society has this stupid taboo against allowing them to show their
best assets.  And they've been standing out there all day to prove it!"
   So I told her about the policeman downstairs.  "You may not be as far
off base as you think.  For several years, several large cities like New
York have had no law against public nudity.  What they charge people with
is public indecency, which involves how people act."
   "Well," she said, "that will have to be changed, because when I'm
dressed like this," she stood and rocked her shoulders, causing her breasts
to sway seductively, "erotic behavior just comes naturally." With that, she
laughed and wiggled her bare bottom all the way to the door as she invited
the next group of women to come in.  I watched as she handed each girl one
of our forms on which to record her personal information.  When this is
done, I thought, I'm going to have the best Little Black Book ever created.
   At shift change, when the mid-day announcer and engineer came on duty,
their eyes bugged out in major surprise.  Gina didn't flinch.  She simply
smiled and kept on working with the ladies.  Thankfully, the new crew went
to work without interfering with our photography.  Apparently they had been
forewarned and spent only a few moments ogling Gina's attributes.  She
responded by preening for them and then went back to work.
   While the next group of girls filled out the forms, I changed my
camera's batteries and installed a new memory chip.  Then we were up and
running again.  I took picture after picture as girl after girl came in and
posed her naked body for my camera.  Never in my life had I ever dreamed of
seeing so many eager, wanton women flaunting their private parts for me and
my camera.  Throughout the entire day, I sported a raging hard-on,
privately surprised than none of the ladies commented on it.  Surely they
must have noticed it, but I assumed they simply pretended not to see it.
   Once while one of the girls was slow at filling out her questionnaire,
Gina commented, "It's really interesting ." She paused and gave me a rather
sideways grin, "When these women write down what their job is, very few
claim to be baristas.  They are not here trying to win the nude barista
contest."
   "You mean ?"
   "Exactly," Gina actually glowed.  "These are secretaries, housewives,
even a couple of corporate executives.  Like I told you earlier, these
women are here primarily because they want to be seen!  They're all turned
on by an opportunity to be naked in public.  Your contest just gives them a
valid excuse to do it ...and a reason to justify it in their minds."
   I thought about that, while I photographed the next few girls.  My hunch
that women really wanted to be seen was all right as a hunch, but was it
for real?  It was a bit much for me to adjust to in a single day.  Then
Kristi walked in.  Two mornings back, I had quite a shock at seeing her
with little blue star pasties on her nipples.  Now, here she was buck
naked, all over, smiling and waiting for me to photograph her.
   "Hello, Jim," she smiled.
   "Well, well," I replied, struggling for what to say.  "No stars today,
Kristi?"
   "Nope!" Then she laughed, "Oh, you looked so shocked the other morning
when you saw me wearing them.  I laughed all day.  Then, when I heard about
your contest, I just had to come down and, well, here I am.  All of me!"
She beamed ...all over!  And for a moment, I actually considered breaking
my rules and taking more than the standard five poses, but I decided it was
best not to push my luck.  As she left, Kristi smiled quite invitingly,
then said, "Don't forget to come for your next lattè.  I'll see you then."
   Finally, at 8:30 that evening, the last girl wiggled her fanny and
disappeared into the elevator.  While I folded the tripod and stowed my
camera in its case, Gina organized the registration forms and stuffed them
in three manila envelopes.  "Done!" she exclaimed, collapsing into a chair.
"Well, I ran a hundred and fifty forms, and they're all gone.  At five
photos each, that would make seven hundred fifty photos of naked women!"
She grinned mischievously at me.  "That must be some kind of record."
   "It has been," I replied, still quite unsettled by the entire day's
events, "quite a day!"
   "I'm hungry," Gina suddenly announced, springing to her feet.  "Let's go
get something to eat."
   "Like that?" I asked, indicating her nudity.
   "Oh," she grinned.  "Would you believe it?  I forgot.  I mean, I
absolutely, positively forgot that I'm not wearing anything." She paused a
moment, then said, "You know, I really don't want to put on any clothes, at
least not yet ...not after going like this all day long." She bounced
around the room, giddy like a puppy with a new toy, acting surprisingly
fresh after such a busy day's work.  The rest of the staff had avoided us,
once saw what we were doing.  Surprisingly, none of them criticized our
project or berated Gina for her nudity.  That was almost more surprising
than the fact that Gina had chosen to work all day naked.  So, yes, in my
mind, it had been a very busy day, a very strange day, and a very wonderful
day.  Because we had been so busy, this was our first real opportunity to
talk together about anything other than the mechanics of the photo shoot.
   "So what do you suggest?" I asked.
   "We could order Chinese," she smiled.  With a raised eyebrow she added,
"Eat at your place?"
   "Sounds good to me," I assured her, eager for whatever opportunity her
suggestion might involved.  Within minutes, we gathered our photo equipment
along with the packets of photos and took the freight elevator down to
street level.
   Gina paused at the door and tugged at my arm as she giggled, "I'm still
not wearing anything."
   "Didn't you bring your clothes with you?" I asked.
   "Do you see any?"
   "Not on you.  Want to go back and get them?" I asked.  "Of course not. I
told you I'm not yet ready to get dressed."
   "So?" I asked.  "What do you suggest?"
   "Where's your car?"
   "About four blocks up the street."
   "Okay, we run for it!" she announced as she pushed open the outside
door. "Which way?"
   Fortunately, there were only a few people on the streets, an old couple
walking a dog and two or three kids on skate boards, none of which paid any
attention to the two of us jogging by.  That's when I realized that girls
have been wearing so little for long enough, even on the streets, that no
one really paid any attention to the fact that Gina was missing a couple of
strips of cloth.  What's the big deal, I thought, between near-nudity and
actual nakedness?
   "That was exciting!" Gina puffed as she settled into the car seat
alongside me.  "Maybe we can do that again sometime."
   Once on the freeway, I relaxed somewhat, still not sure what lay ahead
for the two of us.  Gina cranked the music on the radio, but said little
until I parked outside my apartment.  "You okay with this?" she asked.  "I
mean like my inviting myself to come home with you?" I nodded, then opened
her door.  She walked very close beside me as we climbed the stairs to my
apartment.  Then, once inside, she suddenly turned to face me, hugging me
warmly.  Her bare body pressed tightly against mine.  That's when I
realized, in spite of all else we had done that day, this was our first
physical contact.  In fact, it was our first such contact, not just on this
day, but ever.  So this day was special.  Very special.  Having been
surrounded by all those naked women, none of whom I had touched in any way,
this closeness with Gina suddenly became an erotic turn-on.  The feel of
her body against mine was overpowering.  Hormones long dormant awoke within
me, obviously prompted by the fact that Gina was completely, wonderfully
naked.  And in my arms.
   Previously, before today, our relationship had strictly involved work,
but now, well, things quickly became personal.  Very personal.  Her lips
were on mine.  Her body pressed against mine full length, our curves,
shapes and contours conformed to each other.  Her breasts seemed
surprisingly firm against my chest.  My arms automatically surrounded her
naked shoulders, then traced downward to the enjoy the swell of her bottom.
My erection raged out of control.  Her mouth opened to accept mine in a
deep kiss.  The doorbell rang.
   What a time for our food to be delivered!  While I paid the bill, she
slipped into the bathroom.  After the deliveryman was gone, I heard the
shower running.  So I unpacked the cartons of Chinese food.  By the time I
had the table ready, Gina came into the room, her hair wrapped in a towel.
Other than that, she was still naked.
   "You're really getting into this nudity thing, aren't you?" I asked.
   "Are you objecting?" she asked with a grin.
   "Not at all." We eyed each other cautiously as we ate.  Finally, I said,
"I just realized that even with all the pictures I have taken today, not
one was of you."
   "I know," she said, "and I wondered why you hadn't shown any interest."
   "Oh, I'm interested," I assured her.  "I have been all day."
   "Did you bring your camera?" she asked.
   "I did."
   "Well, as you can see, I didn't bring my clothes.  So...," she smiled.
"Let's eat.  And then I'll fix my hair.  After that, we can see what
develops." Her grin conveyed all kinds of promises.
   I'll not bore you with the intimate details of that night.  The fact is
that I don't remember all of it, except that we never did take any
pictures. We started out by hugging each other.  Then our hug quickly
became a copulation marathon which required the remainder of the week for
my cock to recover.  She licked me, squeezed me, then sucked me dry.  She
presented herself to me with wide-open abandon, pulling me down on top of
her, holding me firmly between her knees, while her palpitating pussy
pushed eagerly against me, then swallowed my erection completely.  Later,
she turned over and directed my cock into her anus, while she continued to
throb with repeated orgasms.  Finally, with both of us exhausted, she
pulled me into her arms, and just before she fell asleep she whispered,
"You can consider that your goodnight hug."
   Thursday morning came, and we showered together, then ate breakfast
while still naked.  She grinned and repeatedly said, "I think I could get
used to going without clothes." Even so, she borrowed one of my shirts to
wear on the way to the station.  There she donned her shorts and tube top
which were still in the corner where she had abandoned them the previous
morning, and then we were back on duty for the morning show.
   On the air, I thanked all the baristas who had shared in our contest. 
Gina fielded several calls from ladies wondering if we would repeat the
contest very soon.  She also had several calls from ladies who had posed
for us the previous day, asking what they should do next.  It was sometime
later when I learned that Gina, on her own initiative, had urged every one
of the women to petition the city council to repeal the obscenity laws and
go on record that they approved of public nudity for women.  I did my usual
routine of attempted on-air humor, which seemed rather bland considering
the events of the previous day.
   Finally, at mid-morning, there came a break in our routine.  The winner
of our contest came to the studio and introduced herself to Gina.  I was
watching through the window and recognized the girl when she arrived. 
Fortunately, music was playing, for I could never have maintained silence
when, without prelude, the girl peeled her dress over her head.  Gina
nearly passed out!  Sputtering, she called through the intercom that my
contest winner had arrived.
   I shot a couple of pictures of Gina presenting the check to the girl,
then noticed that Gina was quite nervous.  She kept tugging at shorts and
tube top, while the contest winner was continually preening as she posed
completely naked.  The chubby girl was totally lacking in modesty, which
only added to Gina's discomfort.  The event was a pleasant break in an
otherwise uneventful work day, but I was once again puzzled as to why Gina
found the other girl's blatant nakedness so frustrating.
   After our shift was done, I asked for the registration forms the women
had filled out the previous day, intending to take them home and transfer
the photos from my camera to my computer and link the women's photos with
their personal information.
   "If that's what you plan to do," Gina grinned, "I think I'd better come
along and help, to make sure you get everything straight.  You don't want
to put a picture with the wrong information." There was a sly look in her
eye, which needed no interpretation.
   We spent the afternoon at my apartment.  Together.  Naked.  Both of us,
which seemed appropriate, since the pictures we were sorting were all of
naked ladies.  If she could work naked, I decided I could too.  Even so, I
was nervous, since my dick was still quite sore from all the action Gina
had given it the previous night.
   When she saw I had stripped, all she said was, "Well, it's about time."
   We went to work on the computer, transferring the files, sorting them,
and putting them in order.  There were photos of exactly a hundred forty
one women.
   "Not bad for one day," I commented.  Gina only nodded.  By then it was
already evening, and we were both tired.
   Gina suddenly announced, "We had fun last night, but you never did take
my picture."
   "There were other things to do," I told her.  "But right now is a very
good time, if you're interested, especially since I've not recovered from
the workout you gave certain parts of my body last night."
   She grinned her special little grin, then whispered as she stooped down
and kissed my cock, "Oh, I'm sorry my little friend is having a down day.
Not to worry.  Let's party!" Then she posed.
   On the previous day, I had all the women assume the same five basic
positions: A full frontal pose, left and right profiles, a full back shot,
and a second frontal up close.  In order to compare the ladies, that had
been a good plan.  It also became somewhat boring after awhile, even though
it pains me to admit that I could ever become bored with naked girls. 
Apparently, Gina felt the same way, for now that it was her turn to pose
she totally ignored that basic format.  She spread her charms openly,
taunting me with her bare body, as if to seduce me with one wild pose after
another, some artistic, some erotic, some just plain pornographic, and each
one more daring than the last.  She pinched her nipples, spread her legs,
opened her pussy, lifted her butt in the air, held her anus open, all the
while smiling as she made love to the camera.
Eventually, sometime late that night, we fell asleep on the couch,
wrapped in each other's arms, gloriously glad to be naked together ...at
least I was, and Gina gave me every indication it was true of her as well.
Friday morning came all too soon.
   "One more day of work this week," she announced as we took turns in the
bathroom.
   "We'll never have another week like this," I replied.
   "Oh, I don't know about that," she laughed.
   "How's that" I asked.  "What did you have in mind?"
   She grinned again, posed before me with her arms raised and her fingers
clasped behind her head, her beautiful, naked body on full display.  Softly
she said, "After the morning show is finished, let's go get married."
   Well, there was actually more to it than just that, a license and a
bunch of that other legal stuff which took a lot longer than we planned,
but we did it.
   A year later, I proudly accepted the blanket-wrapped bundle from the
midwife, who smiled at me and said, "Here you are, Mr.  Wagner.  Here is
your daughter.  Have you decided what you will name her?"
   I looked down at my wife.  Gina smiled as she said, "Yes.  We've decided
to name her Karen."
   End of Prequel
  
Naked in School, the Prequel