Sam and Jenna Naked in School (NiS, hs, exh, teen, first, mf, oral, anal)

   Monday, Afternoon

   Sam

   By the time I made my way to the showers I felt like my nads had been
through the washer.  Specifically the spin cycle.  And then slung into the
dryer with steel-toed boots and set on high.  I was definitely going to
have to figure out a way to convince the powers that be to let me have a
jock or cup or something, with how much I was movin' around I was going to
get skin-burn or something.

   Believe it or not my gym class only has three girls in it.  Two of the
girls I only knew in passing acquaintance.  The third, though, I was
actually pretty good friends with.  Not lifetime buddies or anything like
that, but we got along well and hung out sometimes.  Her name was Amelia,
and she was probably the strongest, fastest, and most athletic girl in my
class.  She was a tomboy.  She had a temper, she was aggressive, fiery, and
probably scared a lot of guys to death.  Me, I just thought she was funny.

   "You sucked out there," she snickered as we walked into locker rooms. 
Rows of lockers were set about the room in rigid order, painted a dull blue
that was starting to flake from the doors.  Between the lockers were the
customary featureless wooden benches for throwing stuff onto when changing
and getting ready between classes.  Amelia motioned for me to follow and
took me to the back of the room where a door led into the showering area. I
don't know what I expected.  Pink stalls and frilly trim with glitter? 
Maybe.  But what I got was...the exact same thing as the boys locker and
showers (if a bit less used looking).

   "The whole naked thing can make things a little more complicated," I
replied in mock-offense.

   "It can't be that bad you freaking baby.  I expected better from you,"
she laughed.

   I stepped into the stall next to hers and turned on the water.  The
showers were close together, with a simple bathroom-style barrier in place
between them and no doors.  Reminded me of when the school, in a stroke of
utter brilliance, had the doors removed from the boys bathroom stalls.  For
no...apparent...reason.

   "You try working out naked," I grumbled over the spray of the shower. 
"See how you feel after a half-hour of your tits flopping around unchecked,
and you'll know about how my balls are feeling."

   I heard a giggle from Amelia's shower.  "At least you suck it up most of
the time."

   "Oh yeah," I chuckled, "Because I'm going to embarrass myself by
excessively whining and add that to my already existing embarrassment at
being naked."

   "You whine already," Amelia teased.

   "Oh it could be worse," I promised.  "Much worse." I switch to a high
falsetto voice and mock-whined, "I'm cold!  My skin is chaffing me!  My
balls are moving around too much!  The exposure is tanning my skin!  I can
feel dust settling in bad places!"

   Amelia was laughed at me.  I was laughing at myself too, so it was ok.
She smacked the wall between us.

   "If I ever get called for the Program I'm running away," she declared.

   "It's not that bad," I assured her.  "It's far from comfortable, but
some people make too much of a deal out of it.  It just takes getting used
to."

   "You're just happy because you get relief," Amelia accused.

   I shut the water off and stepped out of the stall.  The two other girls,
who'd done their best to avoid me after class, were already in the locker
area getting dressed.  I figured I would give them a few minutes to finish
dressing so they wouldn't be quite so uncomfortable.

   "I haven't had any relief at all, actually," I said.

   Amelia stepped out of the shower and stood before me.

   Wow.  I hadn't even looked at her when we stepped into the lockers after
class, nor when she stepped into her shower stall.  Come to think of it,
I'd only really looked at her...well, never.  We met last year, myself a
sophomore, she a freshman, and we'd clicked as friends almost immediately.
That we became fast friends combined with the fact that she was the biggest
tomboy I've ever met and did about everything possible not to display
sexuality, and her appearance had gone totally over my head.

   But there was no denying her femininity now.  She was one of the few
girls I knew who was shorter than me.  She was built, there was no denying
that.  Her arms were thicker than those of most girls, and not a bit of it
looked to be anything but solid muscle.  Her legs were lean and long and
very firm looking, hard and sculpted and athletic.  Her stomach was
probably the most impressive part of her.  It was flat and sculpted.  She
had a six pack, grooves and lines shaped between solid muscle.  She didn't
come off as a butch-body builder type woman, but instead as someone very
athletic and strong, someone who honed her body into an impressive specimen
of physical prowess.  Which was exactly what she was.

   Through her muscles, her body looked smooth and feminine, and she had
curves to accentuate it.  Generous breasts that would probably fit nicely
in a C cup, with crinkled brown nipples, and a shapely and firm looking
ass. Her face was pretty, pleasant to look at but not beautiful, but that
was ok.  She had her hair cut a bit short, and it hung just over her
shoulders, framing her face with locks of blonde-brown the color of dark
honey.

   We stared at each other for a few moments.  It was uncomfortable, for me
and her both.  We'd never seen each other this way.  I had never viewed her
in a sexual light, and I doubted she had either.  We both grinned at last,
nervous and awkward but still understanding, and looked away.

   "I'm skipping lunch today to go to the nurse," she announced as we
walked into the locker room.  I arched a brow, but said nothing.  If Amelia
wanted me to know something, she would've spit it out.

   "I guess I'll go find my partner and see how she's doing then," I said.

   Amelia looked up at me as she pulled on her panties and gave me a
teasing grin.  "Finally found someone to bone huh?"

   I rolled my eyes.  "Not likely.  You know I'm not like that.  And I
didn't even know her before today.  If I was hunting up a girlfriend, which
I'm not, I think I'd want to get to know someone first."

   "You're so boring," Amelia laughed.  "You're never going to get any
action unless you act like a pig.  Seems to work for other guys."

   "And you'd go for that?" I asked.  She looked at me and we both started
laughing.

   "I'd kick him in the balls and probably knock out a few teeth.  If he's
still interested I may give him a chance based on persistence alone."

   "I'll pass the word along," I smirked.

   "To who?" Amelia laughed.  "Andy?  He's the only guy you ever hang out
with, Sam.  And we both know Andy would sooner run away from me than so
much as touch me."

   "That's because Andy is smart," I chuckled, then ducked as she threw one
of her shoes at me

   The bell rang and Amelia finished putting her shoes on (after retrieving
the one she used as a projectile weapon).  "I'll join you at lunch
tomorrow. Try to keep your sanity intact till then."

   I laughed and arched a brow dramatically.  "I still have my sanity?"

   Amelia laughed, then walked out into the halls and out of sight.

   I cursed the world for not letting me get dressed when I stepped out
into the halls behind her.  It was freezing after the warm shower, and no
amount of towel drying was helping things.  I made my naked way to lunch
where I would stand naked in line and eat naked and probably end up
spilling something or another on my naked lap which would either be
incredibly hot or incredibly cold, and harm my nakedness, because I was
lucky like that (and naked).  I was going to be sitting really close to the
table today, that's for damn sure.

   I figured sitting was better than walking around with a throbbing boner
wagging in everyone's face and got my lunch together.  Pizza, a small bowl
of salad, and a little serving of wrinkly green peas.  Complete crap today.
And every day.  Just like every Monroe High lunch.  When were we going to
get fancy upgrades like the schools in the next county over got?  I wanted
greasy fast food for lunch like prep schools get dammit!

   I found Jenna sitting at a table near the back of the room and stepped
through the crowd toward them.  She was sitting with that Derik guy, who
was apparently still pissed.  I could hear him ranting about the evils of
the Program as I approached.  Being still naked and uncomfortably cold, I
couldn't entirely disagree with him.

   "Mind if I join you?" I asked, glancing between Jenna and Derik.  "I'm
on a heroic quest to make clothed people a minority at this table."

   Jenna laughed motioned for me to sit.  I did so across from the two of
them.  Derik looked like he was trying to decide if he had been insulted or
not.  I picked up my pizza and stared at it for a moment.  I caught their
eyes and they nodded their silent agreement.  I made a pained face and
dunked the pizza so heavily in the Ranch dressing that came with my salad
that it would drown out the taste of the pizza.  Oh God, please drown the
taste out, if you have any mercy at all!

   "How was Home Ec.?" I asked.

   "Good," Jenna giggled.  "Ms.  Bremins asked if I wanted relief.  I think
the whole class wanted to give her a bullet in the head."

   "No boys eh?" I asked.

   "No straight boys," she corrected.  I chuckled at that.

   Coincidentally enough, at that moment Mikey arrived at our table and
plopped down.  He looked depressed, and rightfully so.  Now three naked
people sat at our little table.

   "They hauled you in too huh?" I asked.

   "Kicking and screaming the whole way," he winked.

   "Jenna, Derik, this is Mikey, classmate of mine and fellow nudist for a
day.  Er, week.  Mikey, this is my partner Jenna and her friend Derik."

   "My lackey you mean," Jenna smirk.  Derik nodded.

   "Lackey then," I corrected, then turned my attention to Mikey.  "What's
the Program like for a gay guy?"

   "Not so bad.  Most of the girls know I'm gay.  And most of the guys
don't.  I've been uh...accidentally...bumping into guys all day."

   I laughed and flicked one of my peas at him.  "You evil bastard! 
Robby'd probably love to find this out."

   "My boyfriend," Mikey said to Jenna's curious look before turning back
to me.  "And it was Robby's idea!  "

   "You two are man-whores!" I grinned.

   "Until we get paid, we are man-sluts, thank you," Mikey chuckled.

   "I would offer to be your pimp, but my moral stance is against the evils
of prostitution."

   "You don't have morals," Mikey pointed out.

   "I do too.  They're just weak," I said.

   "I could help you scout out cute guys to harass whilst naked," Jenna
offered.

   "Nah," Mikey replied, "I've had my fill for the day.  Besides, I'm
supposed to be the naked one.  People are supposed to molest me, not the
other way around," Mikey snickered.

   "You really want to be molested?" I asked.

   'There's nothing wrong with molesting boys," Jenna giggled.  I vaguely
wondered if she even thought about what she was saying.

   "As much fun as it would be to get molested by all the hotties, I do
technically have a boyfriend," Mikey pointed out.

   "A boyfriend who told you to run your naked ass into other guys in the
first place," I commented.

   "That's because Robby's a voyeur."

   "Or maybe he just wants to pass you off on another guy," I teased.

   "Nah, I'm the best looking man's man in school, he can't do better than
me," Mikey laughed.

   "Hey, I'm a good looking manly man," Derik quipped.  I nearly jumped. 
He'd been quiet for about the last ten minutes.  I'd totally forgotten he
was even there.  And I thought I was good at dropping from people's radar.

   "A man's man Derik," Jenna laughed, "Not a manly man.  Though I guess
you could be a man's manly man.  Maybe Mikey can set you up with one of his
friends!"

   Derik nearly choked on the last bit of his pizza.  We had a good laugh
at that.

   Mikey glanced up toward the front of the cafateria and nodded, standing
up and grabbing his tray.  "Gotta go.  My better half calls."

   "Smack his ass for me," I joked.

   "I'll tell him you said that," he grinned, then walked away.

   "He's nice.  I never knew he was gay," Jenna said after a moment.

   "Didn't have a lot of homosexual students at your Catholic school huh?"

   She laughed at that and her face spread into a grin.  Suddenly I wasn't
focused so much on how crappy my pizza was anymore.

   "Are you kidding?  Half the school was gay.  The other half were sluts
or, uh, man-whores as you put it, and a lot of them were druggies and who
knows what," she explained.  "Catholic school firmly represses kids from
everything.  And that just makes them want to act out and be rebellious
even more.  So they do, and they hide it under a layer of falsehoods to
keep the teachers and parents from suspecting anything.  If they bother to
even do that, that is.  On top of that most of their parents are too rich
or self-absorbed to care."

   She leaned in conspiratorially.  "I'd be surprised if there was a single
actual virgin in my schools' 'Willing To Wait Club'."

   I chuckled.  It made sense, really.  "But not you?" I asked.

   "I'm a good girl," Jenna replied matter of factly.  "And I wasn't in the
club."

   A few minutes later one of my only friends, Andrew, sat down beside me
and gave me a sidelong glance.

   "How's it hangin'?" he asked.

   I looked at him for about two seconds before I started laughing so hard
my side hurt, and a glance across the table showed me I wasn't the only
one. "It's hangin'.  For one of the few times today, it's actually
hangin'."

   He shook his head and smirked, running a hand through his black hair. 
Ok, his hair was actually so short he didn't so much run his hand through
his hair as he rubbed at his skull.  He had shaved his head bald half a
month ago, which had been a bit of a shocker.  When I asked him why he'd
given the excuse that he was too lazy to take care of it.  I couldn't seem
to decide if that was true or not.  He was a good guy, average in build and
height.  He was on the basketball team, but he played more for the simple
fun and enjoyment of it than any serious athletic aspirations or passion
for sports.  He had really dark blue eyes and a neat trimmed goatee on his
chin that I'd been tugging at since he started growing it to piss him off.
He had wanted to grow a fuller beard, but Monroe only let us get away with
facial hair if it was trim and tidy.  I myself was lucky that my facial
hair was so light colored and thin, or my stubble would've gotten me in
some trouble.

   I introduced him to Jenna and Derik.  He reached across to shake their
hands.  He also seemed to be doing his absolute best to keep his eyes
really high up when looking across the table.  Like I said, Andrew was a
good guy.

   "I bet you had a lot of fun in third.  Thinkin' about getting a cup?"

   "Just the jock," I replied with a smirk.

   "How's that going to help you if you get kicked in the crotch?" he asked
with a snicker.

   I gave him a half-hearted dirty look.  "You know Amelia.  One of her
favorite target's has always been the crotch, even when we're trying to be
careful.  I've gotten used to guarding myself particularly well."

   "Uh, your gym teacher lets you get kicked in the crotch?" Jenna asked,
looking at me with a half concerned, half disturbed look.

   "She don't know?" Andrew asked.

   I shrugged.  "It's not that big of a deal," I said, trying to keep it to
just that.

   "He's in the martial arts program here at Monroe y'see," Andrew
explained.

   "Which is not that big of a deal," I added, shooting him an even dirtier
look than before.

   "We have a...?  Wait, that does sound kinda familiar," Jenna said.

   "Yep, they started it up last year and Sammy here's in it.  The class
and the club.  He's actually," Andrew started to say, then gave a curse as
I smacked my heel hard into his shin.  "A really crappy ass participant,"
he finished with a glare.

   "Shut up Andy," I replied.  I glanced over at Jenna and shrugged.  "I
only do it because it's something to do.  I say it's gym because it counts
as my gym and P.E.  cred.  Plus I don't want people to think I'm weird."

   She nodded and then blushed softly as she smiled at me.  "Well, I could
see how you could want a jock for that."

   "I could beat you," Derik proclaimed.  I glanced at him and raised a
brow.  "Confident aren't ya?"

   "I'm a ninja," he replied, grinning widely.

   Jenna rolled her eyes and covered her face with her hands.  "Derik!  Not
this again..." she bemoaned.

   "Wow, I suddenly feel a lot saner," Andrew commented.

   "Don't we all," Jenna chuckled.

   Derik sent her a sulking glance.

   I looked at Jenna and leaned a bit closer, propping my elbows on the
table.  I know that was bad etiquette or something, but I, like most young
people, didn't really give a fuck about proper dining practices if I wasn't
in distinguished company.  Plus I was done eating.

   "How are you holding up?" I asked seriously.

   Jenna's smile fell off for just a moment before she turned it fully on
me.  "I'm okay.  It's a little difficult.  I'm sure you've noticed I'm not
the most sociable and outgoing person ever."

   I nodded and smiled encouragingly.

   "But you've helped a lot," she continued, reaching up to pull a
rebellious lock of thick chocolate brown hair away from her eyes and tuck
it behind her ear.  "Just having someone go through this along side me and
assuring me is a big step.  I wish I had that kind of support in my every
day life."

   "Well for a small fee..."

   "I'm helping her," Derik firmly interrupted.

   "Derik, be nice," Jenna scolded.  She smiled at me and rolled her eyes.
"It's not as bad as it seemed to be this morning," she continued.  "I
mean...I'm still not comfortable.  But, yeah, I think I'll get through it.
Even better, I think I'll get through it without losing my mind, which is
more than I could have said a few hours ago."

   "I'm glad," I replied.  "We'll get through this week.  And we can both
help with the glue when our sanity starts to crack."

   "Interesting analogy," Andy smirked.

   "I'm going to copyright it," I replied.

   "If I start to lose my mind you may want to leave me to it," Jenna said.
"I can be spastic when I get panicky."

   "If you haven't gotten to that point yet you'll probably be okay," I
pointed out.  "I mean, most people who have anything to do with the Program
say the first few hours are the worst.  And if you do start getting
uncomfortable again, I'm here."

   Jenna smiled.  And blushed.  And looked down at the table.  Why was she
getting shy on me now of all times?

   "I hear they're thinking of moving the Program into Middle School," Andy
put in.  It was, of course, a completely random change of topic, but it did
a good job of breaking the uncomfortable silence, so none of us really
cared.

   "Colleges too," Derik huffed.  "The fucking government is trying to turn
us all into a bunch of hippie nudists."

   "They've already started the middle school Program stuff in Europe, or
so I hear." I said, ignoring Derik's continued grumbling and conspiracy
theories.

   "How'd you hear that and, more importantly, why would you care?" Andy
asked.

   "Because it's good to be informed?" I suggested.  I shrugged, knowing
that sounded totally weak.  "I was fairly certain the Program would end up
catching up with me eventually, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to do
research on my impending doom," I explained.

   "In other words your Dad read about it in the paper and told you about
it," Andy deduced.

   I chuckled and gave a nod.

   "The Program is trying to turn us into sheep," Derik added.

   "Naked sheep," Andrew snickered.

   "Yeah, and don't forget it'll be your turn soon enough, Derik," Jenna
grinned.

   "Nah, not me," Derik said confidently.  "I'm never getting caught up in
this shit.  Sign out status is a gift."

   "Are you even so sure your parents signed it?" Andrew asked.

   Derik's reply was cut off by the bell.

   "It was nice meeting you two," Andrew said as we stood up.  "Hang in
there Jenna, Sam'll get you through.  Sam's the man."

   I rolled my eyes and quickly reached out to tug on Andrew's goatee.  He
glared at me for a moment, then grinned massively and smacked my ass before
running away at full tilt and nearly bowling several people over.  Derik
looked mildly disturbed.  Jenna started giggling and laughing, a
wonderfully melodious sound that did even more wonderful things to that
generous bosom of hers.  This took my mind off the fact that a guy had left
a hand-print on my ass.

   Jenna and I walked toward the art department of the school.  I had a
smidgen of talent when it came to drawing so I was in an actual drawing and
painting class.  Jenna's class was in the room directly across from mine.
Pottery I believe.

   We were stopped a few times for requests on the way.  The guys still
didn't do anything too extreme to Jenna, just touching her breasts and butt
a little bit.  I didn't notice anyone copping a huge feel, or anyone trying
to touch her pussy.  I, on the other hand, practically had my genitals
worked over.  This was confusing to say the least.  I had never figured on
girls being bolder than boys with this kinda thing.  And sure, there were
several girls crowding around me and watching me that didn't touch me at
all, but those that did were anything but shy about it.

   Through it all I held Jenna's hand again.  When the requests first
started coming she gripped tightly, like I was all that was saving her from
drowning or somethin', but after a few moments her hand relaxed and simply
sat in my hand.  I have it a squeeze every few moments, reminding her I was
there, reminding her she wasn't alone and someone at least understood that
the whole experience, while certainly intriguing, wasn't all together
comfortable.

   We reached the art department and I gave her hand one more firm squeeze
and smiled at her before we separated and I walked into class.  The room
was bigger than the average class room and one of my more relaxed classes.
The desks standing at rigid attention all in their disciplined little rows
had been chased away by more leisurely and spread out stools with easel set
up for canvas and sketch pads.  The walls were decorated with various works
of art that were pronounced to be a cut above the norm.  Various spare
paints, oils, canvases, brushes, penciles, and other art supplies were
scattered haphazardly in the corners and out of the way places in the room.

   "Relief?" Mr.  Nunimeier asked as soon as I entered the room.

   It was tempting.  I'd told myself I wouldn't take relief, and I still
wasn't perfectly comfortable with the notion, but after spending more and
more time in this state...and beside a beautiful naked girl...

   "Nah," I replied.  "Masturbation is against my religion.  At least for
today."

   The class tittered, then went into full out laughter when Bob Pinsky, a
rowdy yet surprisingly intelligent sophomore protested, "Boring!" He was an
exceptional artist and had been bumped into the Junior art class because of
it.

   Mr.  Nunimeier smirked and nodded in distracted agreement to it all. 
Mr. Nunimeier was humorous and way too immature for a man in his thirties
and already getting a few gray hairs in.  A generous smile and free laugh
made him a favorite among his students.

   "You're going to do it to me, aren't you?" I asked him.  He shot me a
grin and nodded.  I rolled my eyes and gave him a none-too pleased look
that he didn't catch.  Or he just didn't care.  "All you art teachers are
opportunistic aren't you?"

   Mr.  Nunimeier opened his mouth to comment, then shut it.  His eyes
looked past my shoulder and he gave a satisfied nod.  I glanced back.

   Jenna was standing in the doorway behind me, looking torn between
confusion, curiosity, nervousness, and outright discomfort.

   "What's the deal?" I asked her.

   "I think I can answer that.  And quit blocking my doorway!"

   I quickly jumped aside and Jenna stepped fully into the room at Mr. 
Nunimeier's insistence.

   "Class, this is Jenna Mathews, Sam's partner in the program.  She has
pottery across the hall, and Ms.  Rubenson, her teacher for this period,
informed me this morning that a female Program participant would be in her
class.  I have asked her to send Jenna over to assist in the subject
material this week, and Ms.  Rubenson has agreed.

   "You agreed to this?" I asked Jenna quietly.

   "It's part of class participation, even if it isn't mine," she shrugged.
"As long as it's part of honest education and doesn't involve anything
overtly sexual, we have to go along with it just like any other part of
class."

   "That's not specifically true," Mr.  Nunimeier interrupted us. 
"Specifically, I won't make you do anything you aren't comfortable with,
regardless of whether it's part of class participation or not.  I told Ms.
Rubenson to send you over if you were okay with that, but I guess she
didn't catch that bit."

   I had to keep myself from scoffing.  I'd met Ms.  Rubenson.  She was a
raging bitch from hell.

   "What will we be doing exactly?" Jenna asked.

   "Simply put," Mr.  Nunimeier replied, turning a bit more toward the
class to include them.  "You and Sam will be serving as nude models.  The
school used to hire models, but with the Program now in place, we have new
opportunities.  First, to cut back on the art department's expenses with
nude models.  And in my opinion even more significant, to provide young
artists with a more realistic and every-day-life example of the human
body."

   "So we'd be posing?" Jenna asked.

   "Exactly.  So, will you do it?  You will receive an A on all your normal
class assignments this week, and possibly bonus credit for being helpful
and cooperative as well."

   Jenna hesitated a moment.  She glanced at me, and I smiled
encouragingly. Partially because I knew she needed support at that moment
to make a decision based on what she wanted to do without being crippled by
her nervousness.  And also because I was suddenly very into the idea of
getting to draw her.

   "I don't have to draw do I?" Jenna asked.

   Mr.  Nunimeier grinned and shook his head.  "Not at all.  You may be
bored during a period when Sam has to pose, but you'll be exempted from the
actual drawing.

   "Okay then, I'll do it."

   Mr.  Nunimeier slapped his hands together and grinned.  The class gave a
mild applause, complete with appreciative hooting from the guys.

   "Alright then, time to get to business," Mr.  Nunimeier quickly
retrieved a tall stool and placed it on the slightly upraised platform
toward the front of the room.  "Jenna, you'll be first.  Please come have a
seat."

   Jenna flushed quite a lovely shade of pink and gave a nervous nod

   "Don't worry about it too much.  The worst part of this class is trying
to draw something without making it look like misshapen crap.  And since
you don't have to do any drawing, you'll be fine," I reassured her.  She
nodded and smiled gratefully.  I was glad I could help her, even if it was
in such a minor way.  I took a seat at one of the easels up front and
propped my sketch pad up.

   Was I a good artist?  Eh.  I was passable.  I was in art because I enjoy
drawing and it relaxes me more than for any reason of actual talent.

   "Okay, take a seat on the stool and cross your legs," Mr.  Nunimeier
instructed.  "Bring the top one a bit higher and hug your knee.  A bit
looser, you want to look relaxed.  There.  Before we start to draw, would
you mind taking your hair down?"

   Jenna shrugged and reached to undo the clips and pins holding the pile
of hair on top of her head.  She shook her hair loose, freeing it and
letting it fall.

   The thick locks came tumbling down her shoulders.  It flowed in
luxurious waves down her back, lustrous and thick and shimmering softly in
the light and nearly so dark brunet in shade as to be black.  It was
obvious she cared for and brushed it often as it looked incredible, like
something out of a movie really, all shining silk and waves.  It curled up
at the very bottom, which was all the way down to where she sat on the
stool.  It suddenly dawned on me just how big that pile of hair on her head
had been.  Holy shit.  Jenna just got even more gorgeous than she had been.
I'm really glad I'd managed to find a seat and get behind an easel, because
I was once again hard as hell.

   "Yes, that will work nicely," Mr.  Nunimeier nodded.

   Jenna resumed the pose she had been instructed into.

   "Now crane your neck to the side just a bit and look forward.  Relax,
think about something you enjoy, something that makes you happy.  Smile a
bit if you like but try to stay as still and consistent as you can."

   She nodded once and looked out into space, and after a few moments
started to smile a soft little smile that made her face take on a delicate
glow.  The class began to draw.

   Jenna

   It's not easy sitting perfectly still.  Especially when you're
completely naked and everyone is drawing you, and you know they're getting
down all the little naughty details.  I felt awkward and uncomfortable and
like I was being made fun of somehow, but I tried my best to ignore all
those things and simply stay still and make things easier for the class.  I
did try to take Mr.  Nunimeier's advice and think of something that made me
content.

   And you know what?  I never really managed, because every time I tried
my eyes fell on Sam.  I wasn't trying to look at him, but that's where my
head and eyes went when they started to draw me, and that's where I was
stuck.  And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't think of something that
made me happy.  Because I was too busy looking at him.  And thinking about
him.  What I thought of him, I couldn't say.  I wasn't even sure.  This
whole day had me reeling and feeling like I wasn't even myself anymore.

   As confused as my mind was, I did know this.  As I sat there looking at
him, I couldn't help but smile a little wider.  I didn't know how I felt
exactly, but I knew that I thought Sam was a really nice guy.  He'd been a
wonderful partner so far, he'd helped me loosen up, and his jokes and
relaxed presence made it easier for me to forget I was naked -how could
anyone forget they were naked- and to try to look past all the weird and
totally psychotic things that came along with the Program.

   So I sat there in my little pose, actually ignoring for the most part
that I was naked and being drawn by a bunch of students, and thought about
Sam.  And before I knew it, Mr.  Nunimeier was calling a halt for the day.

   "We will continue tomorrow with Sam, so girls start looking forward to
that and guys, get your bitching and complaining over with before you
arrive at class tomorrow."

   A mixture of laughs, giggles, and grumbles followed that.  I hopped down
from the stool and grabbed my bookbag.

   "Thank you for being such a good participant Jenna," Mr.  Nunimeier
smiled.  "Remember to come here tomorrow instead of your regular class."

   "What's your next class?" Sam asked as we stepped into the halls.

   "Gym," I sighed.  I wasn't looking forward to naked exercise, or what
would follow it.

   "At least you don't have to fight in the buff.  I spent my entire class
praying my nakedness wouldn't be used as a handy and visible target."

   I laughed at that, unable to imagine what it must have been like to
fight some other guy in a martial arts class with your groin practically
inviting trouble.  Sam smiled at me.  I felt all tingly suddenly.  Wow. 
When he smiled, really smiled, not the goofy grin or sarcastic smirk, it
was...well, I don't know, but it did things to me.  Made my stomach tight
and my hands a little damp.  And my hands weren't all it made damp,
either...

   "How about you?" I asked quickly, hoping he didn't catch the way I was
staring at him.

   "Early American History," he rolled his eyes.

   "Sounds like fun," I teased.  He smirked and shrugged his shoulders. 
"At least I probably won't get called to do something retardedly
embarrassing in front of the class."

   "Lucky," I replied.  I reached into a pocket on my book bag and got the
hair clips I'd removed, then began pulling my thick hair away from my face,
doing my best to gather it all up and pile it on top of my head.  Without a
mirror, time, or a brush, it was a half-ass job, but I managed to get most
of it out of my face and out of the way.  I happen to think I have pretty
nice looking hair, but sometimes I wonder if the length is worth the
hassle. Sam nodded at the clock as I finished securing one particularly
rebellious lock with my last clip.  I smiled and we walked through the
halls together.  The crowds and onlookers were out again, and there was no
avoiding them.  I took a deep breath and walked ahead with as much
confidence and calmness as I could muster.  Which was not much.  I wanted
to grab Sam's hand again, but one of the girls walking toward him stepped
in my way as she got closer to him.

   Someone asked if they could touch my breast.  I practically shrank back
at first, but remembered it was a reasonable request, and nodded my
consent. It's not like I hadn't already been touched today.  This was the
first time someone had actually bothered to request though.  The boys palm
pressed to my bosom, tentatively, eagerly, and I gasped.  First, because my
breasts are exceptionally sensitive.  I've heard on a number of occasions
that women with big boobs aren't supposed to feel much through them.  Well
either the person who said that was wrong, or I'm a very big exception.

   But mostly I gasped because the boys hands were exceptionally cold.

   A pair of hands were on my ass now, kneading lightly at the cheeks and
giving them a little pat and squeeze.  I blushed through it all, feeling
strange and embarrassed.  At least these guys were gentle and nice, if a
bit clumsy.  And they actually left me alone after feeling me up for a few
minutes, leaving me with a mix of embarrassment and, worse, pleasure. 
Things started getting nice and slippery between my thighs.

   That thought made me glance over at Sam.  The poor guy was standing in
the middle of his own small crowd of 'molesters'.  I was surprised, mostly
because the girls were actually being pretty bold about touching him.  Two
of them had their hands on his cock, pulling and tugging it and rubbing it
up and down, and another was running her hands on his chest and shoulders.
She giggled every few moments.  From what I could tell, the cause was the
periodic ripple and bounce that Sam's shoulders and chest gave under her
fingertips.

   I found myself wishing I was in her place.

   I couldn't tell if Sam was enjoying it or just getting annoyed.  Either
way he glanced at the clock on the hallway wall and tried to move back from
the girls.

   "Sorry ladies, class calls and I'm going to be late," he pleaded,
looking like he was trapped in a corner and had no clue of what to do,
which, essentially, was exactly what was happening.  The girls wouldn't let
up, which surprised me even more.  I hadn't expected that.  I guess girls
could be just as insistent as guys sometimes...  Sam was too nice to tell
them to back off, and he was definitely going to be late for class at this
rate as the history classes were half-way across the school.  I don't know
what possessed me, but I walked into the group.  The girls parted for me
with curious looks.  I reached out, not even totally in control of my hand,
and closed it around Sam's cock.

   It throbbed in my hand.  It was thick, so very thick, so much so my
fingers only just encircled it, and I have long fingers.  He was longer
than average I knew, but his thickness was what made him most exceptional
in my mind...It was warm, it was alive, it was hard and rigid as steel, but
the flesh of it was still soft and supple, even though it was tight around
the thick muscle.

   I smiled at him, then turned and smiled even wider at the girls,
flashing them a wink as I gently but firmly led Sam away by his cock, my
heart pounding all the way.  I guess that played out ok with the girls,
because they all laughed and giggled and clapped as we walked off.

   As soon as we'd cleared them I quickly released my hold and started to
blush profusely.

   "Oh my God, oh my God Sam I'm so sorry..." I started a panicky rant, but
he laughed and held up a hand to cut me off.

   "Don't be, don't be.  If you hadn't come to my rescue I think I would
have been stuck in that hall with those girls crowding me for the rest of
the day, and I don't think they would've let you just lead me off by the
hand!"

   I nodded but kept blushing.  We came to a branch in the hall and he gave
me another one of those charming smiles.

   "Meet me at the front of the school after last bell, ok?" He asked.  I
nodded and he smiled again and waved before heading down the left.  I
sighed softly, feeling quite shaken, and quite juicy, over what had just
happened.  I walked to gym feeling like my knees would buckle and trying to
forget how it felt to have that warm rod of flesh in my hand.

   Gym wasn't too bad I guess.  The guy's stared of course, and the girls
tittered, and coach Rock, a tall, wide man with a bald head and gray
mustache, wasn't sure how to deal with the naked girl in his class.

   We ran a few laps and did stretches, some sit-ups and push-ups and
general exercise stuff.  Jumping jacks were hell.  I almost gave myself a
black eye, and my breasts felt all sore and tender from the bouncing and
wiggling and jiggling and overall freedom they had to be moving about.  I
was embarrassed, but at least the exercise took my mind from all that had
happened.

   After a few more exercise routines Rock gave up on the half-ass attempt
to make the class look genuine and let the guys go play basketball while he
stood around talking plays and strategy with one of his football players
that happened to be in the class.  A few girls played volleyball at the
small net on the far side of the court, but most of them just sat down at
the bleachers and started up the usual girl gossip.  I didn't really feel
up to volleyball, but I still wanted to do something active and healthy, so
I jogged and walked around the court for the rest of the period.

   Then we had to shower, which was what I'd been afraid of all along.

   Program rules said I had to shower in the boys locker.  I really wasn't
bothered by the fact that I'd be showering where a bunch of boys could see
me.  Not any more at least.  I'd basically been parading naked in front of
boys all day.  No, what I was really nervous about was that I'd be one out
of about Nineteen people naked in that shower room, and with me as the
exception, all of the people in there would be guys.  I may have been
looking at Sam for a good bit of the school day, but this was different
somehow.

   The coach blew the whistle and I took a heavy swallow to steady myself.
It would be ok.  I wish Derik or Theresa were in this class with me.  Or
Sam.  Anyone to give me a bit of support through all this.  But as it was
for now I was on my own.  I guess it's actually a good thing that Gym is my
last class, because if I'd had to be alone, naked, in a room full of naked
guys who were likely going to want to touch me and hadn't had the time with
Sam to calm me down and help me deal, I would have started to completely
and totally freak out.

   It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be.  I envisioned a bunch
of leering jocks crowding me.  I envisioned finding underwear and clothes
and trash and jockstraps thrown all around the room, with lewd pictures of
women stuck to the inside of the lockers which the boys stared at whilst
undressing and fondling themselves.  I envisioned the showers caked in
mildewed and a veritable breeding ground for roaches.  It turns out I have
an embarrassingly overactive imagination.

   The guys left me alone for the most part, though a few did ask me to
pose for them.  I didn't actually feel all that uncomfortable with it.  Ok
I was uncomfortable, but I was dealing with it.  I gave them an shy smile,
trying to look sweet and likable as I lean against the shower wall,
crossing my arms along my ribs which, incidentally, pushed my boobs up like
they were on a shelf.  This made them even more prominent and alluring.  I
turned around and braced my hands and chest against the same wall and stuck
my ass out, giving it a slow little wiggle.  Hardly realizing it, I even
spread my legs apart and gave them a better view of my pussy.

   I struck a few more brief poses, and the guys thanked me.  Thanked me a
lot actually.  I felt strange.  As much as I hate to admit it even to
myself, I was actually starting to almost enjoy the attention.  I didn't
get a lot of the attention that other girls often got.  I had taken that to
mean I was ugly and unappealing and generally not the type of girl guys
like.  But today, so many guys had come to me and asked to look at me, for
me to pose for them and let them touch me...  It's like they wanted me now.
I knew the attention was on my body.  I knew that wasn't what I wanted
either.  At least I didn't want someone important, like a boyfriend, to
only like me for my body.  That was shallow and no relationship would ever
survive on such a base level.  But till now, no one had seemed to notice my
body.  So I couldn't say I minded that much.  The attention was nice.

   My eyes wandered while my thoughts did likewise.  I looked from guy to
guy, unintentionally eyeing them up and down.  A few of them were pretty
cute, though only one or two were what I would define as 'hotties', and
none of them caught my eye the way Sam had.  I couldn't stop myself from
blushing as I looked at their cocks.  As I looked, I got a bit hornier and
excited, but mostly, it made me feel that throbbing warmth in my hand,
pulsing and flexing thickly under my fingers...

   Before I could soap up, Mitch Conel walked to me, flashed me a sincere
smile, and offered to help me.  I hesitated a moment, which deflated him a
bit.  I nodded and smiled shyly.  Mitch was a very nice guy, not outgoing
but not a reclusive either.  He was one of the 'norms'.  Not a jock, not a
brain, not a preppy or a goth or particularly popular or hated.  Right down
the middle.  Maybe that's why he was such a nice guy, and got along with
anyone around him.

   I stood tense at first as he soaped and lathered me, rubbing in circles
to make it a pleasant, massaging experience.  To his credit, and I was
impressed by this, Mitch left the naughty bits for last, not rushing
through as he washed my back, tummy, even my arms and legs.  I thought it
said something about the quality of his character.  I don't think many guys
would have done that.  But finally his hands came up to my breasts and
began to work the soap and water into them...and it was nice.

   All right it was more than nice.  I was horny.  REALLY horny.  I
couldn't help it, I had posed, shown myself off, been squeezed and fondled
and diddled.  Despite other guys being in the program before me, this week
I took my first real look at a cock, and touched my first cock(which
interestingly were one and the same).  And to add to all that stimulation,
Mitch was very close to me, naked, and had pretty damn talented hands.

   I couldn't stop a soft little moan as Mitch's hand slid wetly across my
breast.  He looked at me with surprised eyes, then smiled, not a lecherous
or perverted smile, just a friendly smile that held a bit of amusement.  He
lightly squeezed my breast.  I kept from moaning this time, but I a shudder
coursed powerfully through me.  I smiled shyly at him, blushing furiously.
I was embarrassed, but terribly excited.  And I practically thrust my tits
out at him when he tweaked my nipples.  They hardened to two thick cherry
red nubs, and Mitch gently gave them a little pinch that nearly made me
squeal.  I was blushing profusely at what was happening.  What I was
allowing to happen.  What I wanted to happen.  I felt as if I had stepped
away from the controls and things were running on auto.

   I was ashamed and I was thrilled, and I felt kind of light headed.  I
don't know what it was.  I'd pleasured myself many times, but this was
somehow very different.  I felt it more keenly, more distinctly and
sharply, and even a simple touch evoked more pleasure than I would have
expected.

   Just when I was afraid if he kept touching me I would really lose
control, he stepped back and smiled at me.

   "All clean.  Thanks Jenna, that was fun.  You've got a great body."

   I had no reply right then, mostly because as something of a parting gift
Mitch reaching down and trailing his finger up the length of my smooth
slit.

   Damn!  This isn't fair!  I'm supposed to be calm and cool and collected.
I'm supposed to be a 'good girl', the girl who saved herself for her
wedding night and wouldn't be doing anything kinky even then.  I'd always
figured that would be my fate, whether I wanted it that way or not,
which...I didn't.  Why was I now totally and completely willing to start
humping this boys' hand till I was screaming my head off?  Bring that hand
back!

   I toweled off and shook my head, feeling lost and full of questions.  I
couldn't find my answers yet though, I was just too confused.  I needed
time to think on all that had happened, on all I was feeling and
experiencing.  And I sure wasn't going to do that walking around naked at
school.  The bell rang and I walked out of gym, remembering Sam's
invitation to join him at the front of the school.

   Sam.

   A shiver raced along my skin and my nipples grew and thickened again,
and neither effect was brought on because of the cold.  I pictured him, and
I felt like I could feel a warm, pulsing thickness in my hand...

   I practically ran for the front of the school, for, surprisingly,
reasons suddenly more important to me than the retrieval of my sorely
missed clothes.

   Sam

   Did I take relief?  Damn right I took relief.  Come on, first off I've
been consistently fondled, groped, and half-jacked off for the majority of
the day.  On top of that, I've been walking around with what is possibly
the most stunningly beautiful and positively sexy girl I've ever seen.  And
not ten minutes ago her fingers were wrapped around my dick.  That was the
cherry on top.  The cherry and whipped cream.  Hell that was practically
the whole damn sundae.

   Sure, all the other girls had made me feel pretty nice.  What guy
wouldn't enjoy having a girl running her hands up and down his cock?  But
Jenna was something else...I can't explain it.  It's not like she was
exceptionally skilled or anything; I doubt she'd ever held a guy's cock in
her life.  But having her touch me sent off a shower of sparks behind my
eyes and in my crotch that was definitely lacking with other girls.

   Ms.  Byron asked me if I wanted relief.  Ms.  Byron was the only female
history teacher at Monroe High.  And she was terribly...  Terribly... 
Boring.

   I hesitated.  I knew I was going to be embarrassed as all hell, but even
if I didn't believe blue balls were actually real (mostly a lame and sexist
excuse to get women to put out if you ask me), every time I let my thoughts
wandered they came to Jenna, her face, her body, the feel of her hand on my
cock.  I was throbbing hard and...I only have so much willpower, ok?!

   Somewhat reluctantly I accepted and prepared for the embarrassment of
jacking myself off in front of the class.

   "Does anyone wish to assist Mr.  Peterson?"

   I blinked stupidly as several hands rose up from the class.  Ok, so that
wasn't expected.  That wasn't expected at all.

   "Please hurry and pick someone Sam," Ms.  Byron urged.  My eyes fell on
a cute freshman named Liz.  She was smiling at me and blushing a bit.  I
realized that she had been one of the girls that had fondled me in the
halls.  I nodded to her slowly and she stood and walked to the front of the
class.

   "Take a seat and finish in five minutes," Ms.  Byron instructed stiffly.
Did she disapprove of the Program?  I didn't think so.  I was pretty sure
she sounded stiff because...well, because she was stiff.  Horridly.  The
woman was automated; I'd come to believe this quite firmly.

   I did as she asked, and Liz got down on her knees in front of me.  She
smiled up at me and slowly reached out to wrap her small hand around the
middle of my cock.  I shivered slightly.  I'd been trying to ignore any and
all sensations that it was trying to give me all day, but now that I
stopped trying to force it aside I realized just how frickin' sensitive
being touched by so many girls all days makes a guy!

   "Is this ok?" Liz whispered to me.  I nodded slowly.  She giggled softly
when my cock throbbed heavily in her hand.  I watched half-believing as she
started to jack me off, running her hand up and down the length of my
shaft. She looked even more stunned and mesmerized than me, her eyes locked
on my cock as she caressed it and occasionally looking up at me for
approval.  I think this was something of a first for both of us.

   I shuddered again and let out a heavy breath as she circled her thumb
around the head.  Pre-cum smeared on her thumb, and she quickly spread it
around on my cock, making it a bit slicker.  She started jacking me off
faster and faster, still careful not to squeeze too hard.  Her hand felt
wonderful, and the look she was giving me...I dunno, it was like some kind
of weird mix of curiosity, lust and amusement.

   With all that had gone on today, I wasn't exactly able to last overly
long.  "I'm gonna lose it," I warned.  I expected her to grab some tissues
or something for me to finish in.  So I was a little surprise when she
grinned widely and leveled my cock at her face.

   I exploded.  Freaking exploded.  I've always had an...er...'healthy'
orgasm.  Healthy being something of a keen understatement.  I don't exactly
have deep experience with how much other guys cum, but I'm fairly certain I
cum quite a bit more than the norm.  And today was no exception.  Liz gave
a little squeal as a huge rope of cum shot from my cock and splattered
across her face, drawing a white gooey line of cum from her left cheek,
down across the bridge of her nose and dripping off the right side of her
jaw.  The next burst almost hit her in the eye, and a bit got in her hair.
I thought she'd be pissed at that, but she just smiled and giggled more.  A
few more spurts made a mess on her right cheek, her chin and lips, and a
bit dripped down to make a small white splotch on her purple blouse.

   I let out a heavy sigh and slumped back in my chair.  Liz looked up at
me with widely surprised eyes.  Her tongue slid out and slowly licked up a
thick glob that was hanging from her lips.  Then she smiled and let out a
giggle.

   "Wow, you cum a lot.  That was nice," she said.

   "You're telling me," I chuckled.  The class let out applause and hoots
as Ms.  Byron handed Liz some tissues and paper towels to clean herself up.

   "Alright class, now that relief is over, open your textbooks to page 130
and we'll begin," Ms.  Byron droned.

   I thanked Liz and took my seat, feeling very...well, relieved I suppose.
I half paid attention to Ms.  Byron's ramblings.  I chewed at my pencil,
one of my bad habits when I get bored and distracted.

   Last period blurred past before I realized it, mostly because Ms.  Byron
was boring as hell and I totally zoned out because of that.  Announcements
crackled over the speaker, all the usual boring shit.  Someone parked
without a permit and their ride got towed (ha ha!).  Varsity cheerleading
practice was canceled.  Big whoop (I have oh-so much school spirit if you
couldn't tell).  The only announcement that really caught my attention was
a reminder that the martial arts team would have a tournament on Saturday.

   Which was about the time I realized I'd be doing the tournament in the
buff.

   Shit.  Double shit even.

   I swore rather creatively under my breath for the rest of the
announcements and up until the bell rang.  I got out of the classroom in
record time.  I practically ran down the halls to the front of school.  I
don't think I've ever looked forward to getting dressed so much in my
freaking life.

   I arrived just a few minutes before Jenna and spotted her coming through
the bustle of students.  With class letting out most people were more
concerned with getting out of the prison/hell that is high school than with
ogling the naked girl.  A few guys did follow her from a distance.  I
couldn't decide if they held back out of courtesy or due to the death glare
Derik shot them.

   "Hey," I greeted.  "How was gym?"

   Jenna turned a bright pink and shook her head, which probably meant
someone harassed her or something.

   "Boring.  How about your last class?" She asked.

   I gave a pained groan.  "Ever had Ms.  Byron?" I asked.  I heard someone
practically scream and glanced over to see Derik with his finger against
his head in classic gun pose.

   "Jeez, the woman should hear herself!  Her monotone babbling nearly
forced me to shove a pencil through my eardrum!"

   "That horrid huh?" Jenna smiled.

   "Worse really," I replied with a wink.

   We reached the front of the school and spied the little boxes outside
labeled 'clothes'.  I walked to the door and held it open, dipping into a
ridiculously cheesy bow.

   "M'lady first," I said.

   "Goof," she giggled.

   I glanced at her backside as she walked past, and was floored all over
again.  Jesus Christ...  It was beautiful, totally beautiful, pale and
plump.  Not fat plump, but juicy, firm, perky and tight with a deep cleft
between two perfectly formed, round buttocks.  And for all its firmness and
tight appearance, the skin still looked soft and pliant.  Squeezable.  I'd
always considered myself a breast man, but in that moment I could really
see what the ass fanatics were talking about.

   Time stopped doing that little slow down freeze frame thing it does at
such perfect moments, and she started walking.  Oh.  My.  God.  As she
stepped her ass did the cutest, hottest, sexiest, most sensually alluring
little wiggle and sway I've ever seen.

   Dammit, I was going to have a boner as I dressed.

   There wasn't too much to say about getting dressed other than I was
relieved, a lot less cold, and the guys watching Jenna were disappointed.
And so was I, actually.

   "I heard the announcement," Jenna commented as she zipped her jeans.  I
groaned.  "Yep."

   "I'm going to guess you were supposed to compete," she continued.

   "Yep," I repeated.

   "Still going to?"

   I shrugged.  "I dunno.  I don't even know if my Sensei...er, my
teacher...  will want me to."

   "Well," she replied with an encouraging smile, "Good luck, whatever
happens."

   I smiled at her and nodded my thanks.  We threw on the rest of our
clothes and stood around chatting for awhile longer.

   "I should sign up for those classes," Derik commented.  Jenna shot him a
skeptical look.

   "You're too pale to fight, Derik," she stated.

   "Am not!" Derik insisted firmly.  "Besides, my paleness is cool."

   "Imagine if he had a tan," I added, and Jenna made a face like she'd
just tasted something sour.

   "I don't tan, I burn." Derik replied matter-of-factly.

   "Me too," Jenna admitted.

   "I plead the fifth," I muttered.

   "We're the three pale musketeers," Derik proclaimed.  Jenna and I
exchanged looks.

   "Weak," I grinned.

   "You guys suck.  My dad's probably waiting for me at the side of the
school," Derik said with a pained grimace.  "I'll see you tomorrow Jenna."
He glanced at me and nodded, looking like he wasn't sure what to make of
me. "Later Sam."

   We waved and he rushed off to find his ride.

   Jenna and I walked to the Junior and Senior parking, speaking softly
along the way.  Jenna flashed that amazing smile that lit her face up.

   "Thank you for all your help, Sam," she said.  "You helped me to get a
lot more comfortable today."

   I nodded, smiling as I looked ahead distractedly.  "Yeah, it was pretty
scary huh?"

   "It wasn't so bad," she admitted with a shrug of her round shoulders. 
"I thought it was going to be a lot worse."

   "I meant having to see me naked," I winked.

   Jenna giggled and shook her head, making a thick lock of dark hair swish
across her face.  She quickly tucked it behind her ear.  "You're weird, you
know."

   I nodded and grinned.  "It makes me cool."

   "Dork," she replied and stuck her tongue out at me.  We shared a laugh.
We sounded like we were kids, but it was fun.  Jenna was smiling and joking
around with me.  She seemed to be relaxing more than ever.  Then again, now
she had her clothes on.

   "I'll see you tomorrow then?" I asked as we reached her car.  It was
considerably nicer than mine, so I was glad we hadn't come across my piece
of crap first.  Damn.  I'd always liked Mustangs...

   "Yeah," she replied, then grinned widely.  "Hopefully I won't be naked
with you this time."

   "Huh?" I said stupidly.  I hoped the disappointment didn't show too much
in my voice.  I think my sincere confusion at that notion managed to drown
it out.

   "My dad was supposed to have signed me out of the Program from the
beginning.  Once he finds out that I'm not, he'll probably try to fix
that."

   "Oh," I muttered, then quickly tried to smile and say, "leave me to be
the sole naked person in our classes.  You're cruel," I complained
playfully.

   "I know," she replied.  "It's fun to be evil."

   "In any case, I'll see you," I laughed.

   "Bye-bye," She said, and waved as she got into her car and drove out
onto the streets.

   Jenna

   As soon as I got home I had to stop a war in the living room.  Edd was
screaming and trying to tear Theo's face off, probably for calling him a
baby(again) or something equally stupid and insignificant.  Tony was
sitting on the couch laughing his ass off while the twins, who were closer
to Edd than their other, older brothers, helped keep Theo on the defensive
while Edd continued his failing, flailing attempts to attack.  And I, of
course, get to play ref.  So fun!

   "Come on guys, you know you break something every time you wrestle in
the house!" I whined.  When that didn't work I tried to haul Edd off of
Theo to no avail.

   "And you two know better," I turned my efforts on the twins.  They
sighed and got off of Theo.  They at least listened, even if they got
involved in these episodes from time to time.

   "Edd, Theo, stop!" I groaned.  Neither were listening of course, and now
Theo took advantage of the twins absence and tackled Edd to the floor.

   "Tony," I pleaded.  He shook his head and grinned.

   "Tony!" I growled this time, stamping my foot, which probably made me
look about as threatening as a newborn.

   Tony, bless him, got off the couch and walked over to his struggling
brothers, grabbed both of them by their shirts, and hauled them apart. 
Tony was the middle boy, but he was only a year younger than Theo, and at 9
he was already well taller than Theo.  Tony was the 'good guy'.  Theo was
the first boy, and was pretty much overconfident, arrogant, and something
of a bully.  He'd make a great jock some day.  Edd was the baby.  Karla and
Dad decided he was going to be their last kid and Karla got her tubes tied.
So they spoiled him quite a bit.  He was a good little kid, but had
tantrums every once in a while.  Tantrums most often provoked by Theo in
one way or another.  Tantrums that neither my Dad nor Karla did much to
prevent.  But Tony, he was mellow, nice, agreeable, smart, and by far
better looking than Theo.  He also did whatever I told him to, so he's my
favorite.

   "Where's Karla?" I asked after the boys had finally calmed down.

   "Bath," Tony replied.  I rolled my eyes and shot the group in general a
glare.

   "Can't leave any of you alone for a minute," I sighed.

   "He started it," Edd whined.  The twins nodded their agreement.

   "It doesn't matter who started it, just don't do it," I insisted.  "Does
anyone have homework left to do?"

   Theo groaned and I pointed him toward his room.  He tried to stand his
ground against the notion, but gave in and grudgingly went to start his
studies when I threatened not to give him and his retarded friends a ride
anywhere anymore.  He didn't really like riding around with me, but it was
better than riding around with Karla or Dad.

   Things died down a bit once Theo left.  Edd sat down and started
coloring in a Spider-Man book.  Tony, after assuring me that his homework
was done, started flipping channels.  Jessica and Ashley went to their
room, probably to go play with their dolls.  They were still little enough
to be fascinated with those things.

   I went into the kitchen and got myself a soda before settling at the
dining room table.  I put my book-bag onto the table and prepared to do my
daily ritual of homework before dinner.  Then I realized that I didn't have
any because of the Program and felt silly.  I considered going to bother
the boys for awhile, but then I reminded myself what I'd just had to do
five minutes ago and decided that wasn't such a great idea after all.  I
didn't feel like going up to my room yet, so I just kind of sat there at
the table.

   I thought about what had happened to me throughout the day.  It wasn't
really registering in my mind.  It was like I had been there watching a
mock-up of me strolling naked through the hallways and getting all the
attention.  It was surreal, a complete change from what I was used to.  The
weirdest thing is, I wasn't as freaked as I should be...I usually don't
like change or surprises, or being the focus of attention, or being put
into an unfamiliar situation.  But I was actually dealing surprisingly
well.

   Karla stepped into the kitchen in a bath robe and her still-wet hair
hanging around her face.  She smiled at me and sat down beside me, sipping
a glass of milk.  "Tony told me you broke up a fight.  Thank you Jenna."

   I smiled and shrugged.  "Tony broke it up actually.  It takes someone
his size to tear those two apart these days."

   Karla laughed and shook her head.  "When did he get so big?"

   "Question is," I replied, "How much bigger is he going to get?  He's
only 9 and already almost as tall as me.  And a lot stronger at that."

   She nodded and pushed some wet hair out of her face.  "At this rate he's
going to be a giant by the time he goes into high school.  Anyway, thank
you regardless.  You're a big help with them."

   "No problem," I smiled.

   "You're very good with them," she continued, "You'll make a great mom
one day."

   I smiled a bit more at that and shrugged.  Karla had been insisting I
was mom material for years.  In all honesty I agree with her.  I've always
had a love for kids.  I acted more like a mom than a sister sometimes,
which occasionally made me feel weird.

   "How was school today?" Karla asked.  She rose and walked to the kitchen
to start dinner, and I was glad she did.  Otherwise she would have seen the
way I started to blush and fidget

   "Ok," I mumbled quietly.

   "Anything interesting happen?"

   "Um...you could say that," I squeaked uncomfortably.

   "Ohh," She called teasingly from the kitchen.  "Finally met a boy,
maybe?"

   "Uh...kinda," I replied.  "Karla...did Dad, um, remember to...sign me
out of the Program?"

   For several moments there was no reply, then Karla came out of the
kitchen with a spoon still in hand.

   "They told you you're going to be in the Program?" she asked, looking
more than a little stunned.  Of course Karla knew about the Program. 
Everyone did.  But I guess most people are shocked when it hits then that
it's actually affecting them.

   "They told me I am in the Program," I corrected pointedly.

   Her mouth opened and closed twice before she gave an absent little nod.

   "How was it?" She asked.

   "Strange...scary.  Embarrassing."

   "Did you like it?"

   I gave her a weird look.  "No.  Not really.  I...I don't know.  It
wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.  I guess."

   "Grea-" She started to smile, then suddenly snapped her mouth closed.

   I looked at her closely, eyeing her with growing suspicion.

   "Karla..."

   Karla bit her lip then started to gush.  "Oh Jenna, you're just so shy
and quiet, and I know how uncomfortable you are in this new school and I
just thought..."

   "You thought this would make me more comfortable?" I shrieked.

   Karla winced, but nodded still.

   "I heard the Program helps students open up, become more comfortable
with their bodies and their peers and surroundings.  And besides, I know
you haven't had a boyfriend, and I know you're lonely no matter what you
say, and I thought maybe the Program would help attract some of the boys.
You always hide such a great body under all those plain clothes, and,
and..."

   "Karla!" I interrupted firmly.

   "Sorry, sorry," she said, then suddenly flashed a wide grin and eyed me
knowingly.

   "So how was your partner?  Was he cute?"

   I turned red all over again.  She knew way too much about the Program
already.

   "I was a little too busy being naked and completely mortified to
notice," I lied.

   "Uh huh," she said knowingly, but let it go at that.  "So do you want
your father and I to pull you out?" She asked.  I could tell by the look on
her face that she didn't think that would be best.

   Karla had always been more liberal and open than my father.  She took
the kind of view point that all experiences could be beneficial.  Even if
they were unpleasant, you could learn from them and grow.  She also liked
for people to express themselves and explore new and interesting
situations. She was probably having a field day with this whole Program
business.

   "Even if I wanted to stay in it, Dad would have a brain aneurysm over
it. There'd be no way he wouldn't pull me out of it."

   Karla gave a smug smile at that and shook her head.  "Oh, I think I
could manage to talk him into it."

   "You do?" I asked skeptically.  My Dad could be really really stubborn
sometimes.  But then again, Karla did have him wrapped around her little
finger.

   "So you want to stay in it?" She asked, her hope thinly veiled at best.

   "I...guess.  Just because I don't want to rock the boat.  And if I did
my partner would be left hanging."

   "Good, I'm glad to see you opening up," Karla smiled.

   "I'm just avoiding trouble," I said quickly (too quickly), feeling
embarrassed and a bit panicky.  "I have homework.  Be down for dinner," I
blurted, then rushed out the kitchen.  I'd almost made it up the stairs
before hearing Karla call after me, "I thought Program students were
exempted from homework?"

   I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling with a million thoughts
racing through my head.  I felt a slight movement on the bed and glanced
over to see my kitten, Lilly, struggling to pull herself over the side of
the bed.  She was tiny, barely two months old, a light cream color with
little brown streaks across her cheeks and body.  I helped her onto the bed
and put her in my lap.  She started to move away to explore, but then
changed her mind and settled down as I began to pet and stroke her.

   Why?  Amidst the jumble of questions and thoughts, that stood out.  Why
had I decided to stay in the Program?  Sure, the day hadn't gone as badly
as I had thought it would be, but it was still embarrassing, nerve
wracking, and awkward.  But now I had willingly decided to stay in it with
hardly a second thought.  I never would have thought I'd make a decision
like that.

   I think I did it for Sam.  I kept remembering the look on his face when
I'd said I wouldn't be in the Program tomorrow.  He tried hard not to look
disappointed, I know he did.  But his smile wasn't the same.  Even having
known him for just a day, I knew when he faked a smile.  It didn't have any
of the fake cockiness of his smirk, the silly humor and playful energy of
his lopsided grin, or the warmth and charm of his sincere and kind smile.
The smile he'd shown were none of those.  Was he disappointed because I
wouldn't be his partner anymore?  Because we wouldn't have to spend close
time together?  Or simply because he wouldn't get to see me naked?  I
didn't know, of course.  What I did know was that I didn't like the thought
of him having to go through the rest of the week without a Program partner.

   Or, even worse, a different partner...

   I laid there with my cat and continued to run circles in my head over
the whole thing for the rest of the night.

   Sam

   My house.  My home.  Everything seemed fine on the outside.  The lawn
was cut, the house was in good repair, though the paint was starting to
fade a bit and it was apparent it was an older house.  My Dad managed
enough time between his long hours of work to keep up with the outside.

   Inside was a different story.

   I shuffled through my front door and tossed my book bag onto my dad's
old beat up lazy-boy.  It looked just like the one on the re-runs of
Frasier, duct tape and all.  Only it was a bit darker and subdued.  I would
hate that chair only...well, it looked like the one on Frasier, and somehow
that made it okay.

   The chair was a glorious and polished throne compared to the state of
the rest of the house.  Magazines and gossip columns were strewn about the
living room, and a plate was carelessly balanced on the stained arm of one
couch, caked with old, half-eaten food.  Dirty laundry was piled in my
Dad's chair, purposefully.  The floor was scattered with more dirty
clothes, magazines, tv guides, and discarded wrappers from numerous foods
and snacks.  Even a soda can or two rolled under the smudged, sticky,
coffee table.  Our carpet is a misshaped checkerboard of mottled stains old
and new alike.

   "Ma?" I called.  With no reply forthcoming I strolled into the kitchen,
which was equally as littered and unkempt.  Food crusted in dried clumps in
the mound of unclean dishes in the sink and all around the counter.  The
water in the sink was mirky, and probably old enough to draw mold and who
knows what else.  I hated that sink.  I'd spent many hours of my childhood
standing on a wobbling, broken legged chair in front of that sink to try
and clean dishes with hands too little and inexperienced to adequately do
the job.  My father often did them.  But he couldn't always.  Often he
didn't even make it home from work.  Not because he was one of those
white-collar types who are more concerned about browning up their noses for
their boss than being there for their children.  No.  My dad had to make
sure I could go to school.  That I could have something half-way decent to
wear.  That I could eat.  He was the only one who would.

   More soda cans were strewn around and some had fallen on the floor.  I
fished some orange juice out of the fridge and took a swig.  The place was
a mess, but I had given up on cleaning it long ago.  For every bit of
energy my dad and I put into getting the house clean, it seemed as if
someone put just as much into making it a place of misery again.

   My mom glanced at me and shook her head before she went back to smoking
her cig, leaning against the counter corner while watching the crappy
little black and white mini-tv on the counter.

   "How was school you ask?  Cold, thank you" I announced smoothly.

   She cast an annoyed look my way and took a drag at her cig.  "Are you
stupid or something?  It's the middle of fucking September.  It ain't cold
at all."

   "It is when you're naked all day," I replied.

   Her cigarette nearly fell from her mouth.

   "What?  What the hell were you doing naked?"

   "Your fault," I replied with a smirk.

   "How the fuck is it my fault?" she snapped.

   "Well someone," I replied melodramatically, "Didn't sign their poor son
up on the sign out list for the Program."

   "Huh," she muttered, not even really paying attention anymore.  "That
sucks for you.  You're father probably thought it was a good idea.  He's
fucking brilliant like that."

   "It may be a good idea," I said, surprising myself.  "Growing and
learning and all that."

   "Whatever," she shrugged, putting out her cigarette and pulling another
from a nearby carton.  "Tell that useless father of yours to do something
about it or you get to enjoy parading your naked ass around for the rest of
the week.  Now quit fucking annoying me."

   I shook my head and watched her helplessly as she turned back to the
mini-tv like the problem was solved and I'd ceased to exist.

   She was not an attractive woman.  Her face was pinched, bitter,
especially for a woman of thirty-seven.  Her mouth was set in a perpetual
frown, and deep, dark circles formed under her sunken eyes.

   I asked her the same question I asked every night, though I'd long ago
learned the answer.  I don't know why I asked.  I suppose some part of me
deep under it all had to.

   Will you make dinner tonight?

   She told me to piss off without glancing up from the tv.  I was walking
from the kitchen before she'd even said the first familiar word.

   END CH.2

   Please send any questions, comments, complaints, and constructive
criticism to Crouching_buddha2000@yahoo.com .  Next chapter coming soon.
   
