                            THE DARE
                      by Michael K. Smith


     It started with Katie's Official No-Underwear Dare and with the impossibility of keeping
a secret, especially when it has to do with sex.
     We all go to a private high school, you understand.  It's really a very good school and at
least it's coed -- I'd go crazy in an all-girl school -- but that's balanced out by the stupid uniforms
we have to wear.  I mean, we all groan about homework and everything, but I like most of my
teachers (most of the time) and we also know that most of us are headed for top colleges after we
graduate next year, so the complaints are mostly just for the record.
     There's also a strenuous athletic program in which all students are required to participate. 
Mens sana in corpore sano, and all that.  Most of my close friends and I are on the girls' varsity
swimming team, and I also run track and play field hockey.
     I enjoy my classes and the sports I'm in -- but those uniforms!  Scratchy pleated wool
skirts in unimaginative blue plaid, a white blouse with a plain collar, and black shoes (preferably
loafers) with dark socks.  The boys wear dark slacks and shoes, white shirts, and blue plaid ties
to match our skirts. (Somewhere in Scotland, there's a tartan factory that's gotten rich off schools
like mine.)
     I guess the uniform thing is okay when you're in, like, Third Grade, but when you hit
sixteen you begin to feel pretty silly-looking.  There's one variable you can play with to some
extent, though: The length of your skirt.  Take Katie, for instance.  At barely sixteen, she's
five-ten, with gorgeous long legs.  Being model-slender, her tits aren't very big, so she likes to
show off her legs.  She's four inches taller than me but waistband-to-hem her skirts are the same
length as mine.
     The more understanding teachers, men and women both, just kind of smile when they see
how short some of the girls wear their skirts.  That is, you can't actually turn the stupid thing into
a micro-mini, but you can still show a lot of thigh.
     The whole point of this hemline competition, of course, is to tease the boys (and some of
the younger teachers, I have to admit). And don't they know it!  Guys have been trying to flip up
my skirt for years.  I don't really think much about it any more. It's pretty harmless and if the
boy's cute I might even let him get away with it.  It really bothers some girls, though, mostly the
shyer or prissier ones, and some of them even wear spandex shorts under the plaid.  I think that's
kind of paranoid, myself.
     The boys don't often try to "flip" Katie.  She's tall enough and muscular enough from
swimming and hockey to really clock any guy who annoys her.  But she always has boyfriends
and there are other guys she flirts with in class and at lunch just for fun, so she's very popular.  In
fact, she had kind of a crush on Mr. Robbins last year in sophomore English and sat in the front
row all semester, giving him peeks up her skirt.  He kept looking, too, and it was hard to keep
from laughing.  Katie does that kind of thing a lot.


     One day when the fall term was nearly over, Katie wore a skirt on which she had hiked
the hem to the max -- only a couple of thin inches below her crotch.  She hadn't been on campus
ten minutes before a couple of the gang, including me, grabbed her and yanked her into the
powder room.
     "Katie, you *can't* wear that skirt!" I began.
     "You'll get suspended from school!" Jan chimed in.
     "Expelled!"  This from Annie.
     "Arrested!"  Jan again.
     ...and on and on.  Katie's only reaction was a superior smile.  "You're all wrong.  I dug
out the Rule Book and it says *nothing* about how much leg you can show.  Only the minimum
length of the skirt itself."  We'd each received a copy of the school's official "Rules of Public and
Private Deportment" booklet when we started Sixth Grade and it was still the school bible.
     "But, Katie, they were thinking about *average*-sized girls, you know that!"  Jan was
becoming exasperated.  She worries about everyone and everything.  Worse than having your
mother at school, sometimes.
     "It isn't what they were thinking that counts, it's what they put down on paper.  If I'm
taller than they planned for, too bad."  Did I mention Katie's planning on going to law school?
     Naturally, I was walking down the hall with Katie on the way to First Period when Mr.
Turner, the vice-principal, popped out of his glass-walled office, eyes glued to the backs of her
thighs.  Mr. Turner's not a bad guy, really, for the school Enforcer.  He bends the rules a lot of
the time, especially with students who just mess up and are sorry for it.  But he can be tough as
nails with the occasional serious discipline problem. Of course, with what this school costs the
parents, *those* kids don't last long here.
     "Miss Morris, would you step into my office for a moment, please?  Rebecca, you can go
on to class."  Katie raised an eyebrow, flashed me a 'don't worry' smile, and preceded Mr. Turner
through the door he was holding open for her.  We had plenty of time to get to First Period, so I
loitered around the water fountain for a few minutes.  The explosion I was half expecting never
came, though.
     Less than five minutes had passed when Katie came sweeping out of the vice-principal's
office grinning ear-to-ear. Mr. Turner, standing behind her with his hand on the door handle,
shook his head in bemusement.
     "I had the rule already underlined in red in the book," she whispered.  "If I'd smarted off,
he would have got me for that. But I was polite and respectful.  I said he couldn't change the rules
the Board had adopted, not if he was going to maintain his image of playing fair.  He said I was
'testing the elasticity of the system', and to watch myself," she added with a giggle. Yeah, Katie
was going to be a lawyer, all right.  Maybe a politician, too.


     First Period was Mrs. Hooper for Economics.  Katie sat toward the back where The Hoop
couldn't see her and slouched down in her seat.  She spent an amused fifty minutes opening and
closing her legs while all around her the boys kept dropping pens and pencils and taking an
unusually long time picking them up.
     I asked Katie once how she could do such things.  Didn't she have any shame?  She
seemed honestly bewildered.  "What do I have to be ashamed about?  It's not like I was charging
for sex or something.  I'm not even giving it away for free.  I just like to flirt and so do the boys I
flirt with.  They know I'm teasing them and that it's all a game.  I mean, they *know* I'm not
some kind of slut, Rebecca.  I'm not an easy lay and you know it.  In fact, I'm still a virgin, just
like you.  But I'm certainly not ashamed of my body -- and you're *way* too up-tight!"  I finally
had to apologize.  Katie was just Katie.
     She was also probably right about me being up-tight.  I wished I *wasn't* so easily
embarrassed.  I'm just one of those girls who blushes bright red when I see the cover of
PLAYBOY on the newsstand.  I've made out with several boys and enjoyed it a lot.  But that was
in private and in the dark, usually.  Even the one-piece swim suit I wear to the beach is only
slightly less conservative than our competition tank suits.  But it still makes me self-conscious
because of its low scoop-back and high-cut legs. I bought it in a fit of self-criticism after most of
my friends bought skimpy little bikinis, and it was too expensive not to wear.


     Second Period was Mr. Allenby's American Lit class.  The girls all think he's kind of a
fox.  He has this romantically world-weary face even though he's only about thirty, as if he'd seen
the whole world and wasn't impressed.  He keeps in really good shape, too.  The girls sometimes
spend their lunch period in the stands at the playing field, watching Allenby do his mid-day wind
sprints.  And he's single.  So it's no surprise Katie was again sitting in the front row -- just as she
has in all her English classes that are taught by men.  She says it's her romantic soul.  I think it's
hormones.
     I've always made good grades in English, so I also sat in Allenby's front row.  And I
watched while Katie waved her knees back and forth the whole period and Mr. Allenby kept
stumbling over Walt Whitman.  Giggling in class would have been very uncool, but it was a
struggle.  Some of the boys obviously knew what Katie was up to and at least one was biting
down on his knuckle to keep from laughing out loud.
     Those were the only two classes I had with Katie that term but I heard things from other
girls that afternoon.  "Katie flashed Mr. Hamill in Chemistry!  Gave him a good look at her
underwear and everything!"  Like that.
     So I nabbed her again in the girls' bathroom between Fifth and Sixth Periods.  Jan and
Annie (having been corrupted by Katie, I didn't doubt) were trying to establish how short a
minimum-length skirt would be on themselves.  They weren't tall enough, though, so it wouldn't
have been anything dramatic.
     "Oh, Katie, how can a sixteen-year-old be so degenerate?" I said in despair.  (I despair a
lot.)
     "I'm not degenerate, Rebecca -- I'm liberated," she replied indignantly.  "And you sound
like a preacher."
     Then Jan gave up, hurried into a stall, and slammed the door.  She tends to drink too
much coke at lunch and she has the smallest-capacity bladder in the school.  "Katie," she said
loudly over the partition, "I dug out the Rule Book and checked. You're right, the skirt thing is
pretty vague.  But *I* wouldn't get that kind of attention; I'm only five-two."  Jan talks prudish
sometimes but she envies Katie her bold and adventurous spirit.  So do most of us, for that
matter, though we don't like to admit it.
     Katie was touching up her eye liner as Jan opened the stall door with a great sigh of relief
that made the rest of us laugh. Katie glanced around to make sure there was no one in the
bathroom she couldn't trust.  "I've been thinking about that, you guys.  I'm the only one having
any fun around here.  Anybody else want to get into the game?"
     Annie wandered over to listen.  Katie looked at me challengingly and I stopped brushing
my hair and paid attention as she dug out her annotated copy of the Rule Book.
     "There's something else it doesn't say in here," she confided.  "There's not a word about
having to wear underwear."
     "Katie!"  Annie was horrified.  She was one of the bikini girls and she's certainly no
prude, but this was way too much even for her.  "It doesn't say you shouldn't jump off the
building, either!  They left out lots of obvious things that no sane person should have to be told."
     "Besides, they'd just get you on a general 'public disturbance' rap," Jan added practically
as she came out of the stall.
     Katie's eyes were twinkling.  "Oh, I know that.  But I was just thinking: Wouldn't it be
fun to go without panties for just one day?  We could really freak out the boys.  And a few of the
teachers, if we're careful."
     I shook my head.  "It'll never work.  For one thing, we'd get caught and suspended.  For
another, we're all too chicken.  I mean, *you* can get away with stuff like that.  God know how,
but you always could.  But *we* can't."  Annie and Jan were nodding in agreement.
     "Okay.  Then I'll have to escalate this."
     Annie looked horrified again (she's good at that) as she realized what Katie was about to
do.  "No!  Katie, don't say it! Don't even think it!  You'll just spoil things and break up the gang!"
     "Nope -- this is the next step, ladies.  I'm calling an Official Dare."


     Daring dated back to Fourth Grade, when "the gang" had a slightly different makeup. 
Toni Hamilton was sort of the leader back then.  Her father had money and spent plenty of it on
her, to go places and buy things.  She was never selfish about it and always invited her girlfriends
along.  But Toni was also the daredevil of the bunch and she dared us into doing all sorts of
things against our better judgment.  Like padding our training bras.  And wrapping the oak trees
in the Girl Scout leader's front yard in miles of toilet paper just before a big thunderstorm.
     After Toni's father moved to another city the next year to be president of some company,
the group of us who hung out together established the rules for Daring.  It had to be something
major, preferably something no one in the gang had ever done before.  It couldn't be illegal (no
shoplifting contests, for instance).  And it couldn't be physically hazardous.  There was also a
general understanding that a proper Dare should focus on growing up, on becoming adult
women.
     Originally, Toni would threaten to exclude from her next shopping trip or outing anyone
who refused a Dare that the others accepted.  She probably wouldn't have carried through with
her threat because she was just too kindhearted to hurt one of her buddies' feelings, but we never
found out because no one ever refused her.  Nor had anyone refused an Official Dare in six years. 
It had become almost a holy duty to go along with the gang on whatever escapade someone
thought up and the others agreed to.
     It *was* exciting, I have to admit.  And it was much easier to do something you were
nervous or shy about as part of a group of girls rather than being alone.  Now, standing there in
the girls' bathroom, we all looked at each other, wondering if Katie had gone too far.  She
seemed to realize the danger, too.
     "Look, you guys, this is a necessity!  None of you ever takes chances any more.  You've
all had things too easy for far too long.  You have no sense of adventure.  Jeez, you'd think I was
daring you to screw five guys by tomorrow night and produce a teacupful of jism."  Katie
seemed to have screwing on her mind that day.  In that regard, she wasn't any different, really,
from any of the rest of us on practically *any* given day.  And maybe she was right.
     "Katie... what exactly would this entail?  And for how long?"  Everyone's attention
locked on me and my tall friend was obviously relieved.
     "Hmmm.  I'll make it easy: No panties or underwear of any kind between arrival at school
and departure in the afternoon. Uh -- none of you are about to have your periods, are you?"
Glances at each other and shakes of the head.  "Good.  We'll do it this Friday -- and nobody stays
out sick that day unless you really are.  And everyone has to prove to anyone else in the group --
on demand -- that they really are bare-assed, right?"
     I grinned.  "Naturally.  But no one has to say *anything* about this to anyone else."
     "Naturally.  This is a *private* public thing."  She grinned back and glanced around.  Jan
seemed doubtful but tempted.  Then she began whispering to Annie, who was the most stubborn
and (relatively) the most conservative of the group.
     I nudged Katie.  "What about Mary Ruth?  She has to be part of this.  It's going to
frighten the pee out of her, but she'll never forgive us if she gets left out."
     "Yeah.  We'll catch her after Sixth Period before she leaves school."
     "You know, if any of the boys find out, we're all going to be 'flipped,'" Jan pointed out.
     "Well, it'll just have to be up to each one of us how much the boys *do* find out, won't
it?"  Katie was reckless enough that by the end of Friday everyone in the school would know
what *her* ass looked like, I thought.  But there was a certain boy in my Sociology class who
might also be in for a surprise....  A boy whose attention I'd been trying to get for several months.


     We caught up with Mary Ruth on the way out to the parking lot and explained the terms
of the Dare to her.
     "You two aren't putting me on, are you?"  Mary Ruth was the most suspicious of the
bunch.
     "We might pull your leg about a lot of things, but never an Official Dare," Katie said
seriously and crossed her heart.
     Then Mary Ruth surprised us.  "Well, I hardly ever wear panties with slacks or jeans
anyway," she said with a smile.  "I hate panty lines and I've got good butt muscles so I can get
away with it."  Mary Ruth did have more curves at sixteen than the rest of us.  She'd been the
first to get a bra because she actually needed it and now she was just this side of "meaty," with
flaring hips and emphatic tits and a narrow waist that accentuated everything else.  An
earth-mother-in-training.  Being bare to the world didn't seem to worry her at all, as long as the
rest of us were doing it, too.


     Katie had a red Miata, a birthday present from her father for being in the top two percent
of her class academically.  She liked to race madly around in it and she was always willing to
give lifts to her friends, so I was riding to school with her most days.  (My father could easily
have afforded a sports car for me, but it went against his Calvinist principles, so I drove a beat-up
old sedan that I'd saved up for for two years.)
     When we climbed into the low seats, Katie scooted forward and her red bikinis were
instantly revealed -- a brighter shade than her car, even.  I looked at her flaming crotch and then
at her face.  The realization had just struck me.
     "You're going panty-less in *that* skirt, aren't you?"
     A slow, innocent smile appeared as she rocketed out of the lot. "Why would you think
that, Rebecca?  Why would I take such a risk?"
     "Why, indeed?" I replied with a sigh and closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to watch the
other cars trying to stay out of her way.


     Friday morning, Katie and I both removed our panties in the car and locked them in the
glove compartment.  Then the five of us met in the restroom before class for show-and-tell.  Jan
was wearing a longer skirt than usual, but Annie and Mary Ruth and I had made no changes; our
skirts stopped at mid-thigh, as always. Katie, of course, wore her ultrashort "troublemaker" skirt,
which surprised no one.
     Katie motioned us into a circle and counted down from three. At "Blast off!" we all raised
our skirts high to demonstrate our nakedness.  Oddly, we all stood there for half a minute, plaid
wool gathered around our waists, and studied each others' genitals.  Jan was a natural blonde and
her pubic hair was fine and sparse against her tan, exposing the top of her slit.  Annie was the
opposite, with thick, very black hair and a porcelain complexion; her dark, curly patch was neatly
trimmed and groomed. Mary Ruth cocked her hip and grinned as we all stared at her crotch:
She'd gone radical and shaved her pussy completely.  That little-girl touch, combined with her
natural earthiness, was especially sexy.  Katie's narrow hips made the rectangular lawn above her
slit even more prominent.  She also has a clit that just won't stay indoors and we could see it
peeking out between the folds.  I don't think of my own "safe haven" as unusual at all -- I don't
even trim it very much -- but I decided I could hold my own in this crowd.  I wondered if I was
already blushing, just by reflex.
     Katie lowered her skirt, which concealed her goodies with maybe an inch to spare. 
"Well, ladies -- and today I use the term loosely -- let's go out there and see what happens!"


     In Hooper's Economics class, Katie sat in the very last row, chair pushed up against the
wall.  Glancing back at her unobtrusively, I saw that she had hooked a heel over the chair rung so
one knee was several inches higher than the other.  When she spread her legs even a little bit, it
was pretty obvious what she wasn't wearing.  Instead of the usual gleeful smirks, the boys around
her all seemed stunned.  They whispered urgently to each other and craned their necks and licked
their lips.  Katie pretended to ignore them, a faint smile the only indication that she knew what
sort of spectacle she was providing.
     I saw one of the boys pass her a note.  She glanced toward the front of the room, then
read the note and tried unsuccessfully to smother a grin.  Nonchalantly, she shifted position until
her kneecaps were aimed straight at the note-passer.  Then, as I goggled at her insane nerve, she
spread her knees a foot apart for a long count of ten.  Her target stared openmouthed and I
wondered if his erection would keep him trapped in his seat when the bell rang.
     A girl nearby turned her head at the strange, restless throat-clearing in the back of the
room and did a double-take. She stared as hard as the boys, more intrigued than horrified, it
seemed.  I didn't really know her, but she had a reputation for taking long showers in gym and for
wandering nearly naked around the locker room, chatting with her classmates while they were
changing.  We kind of wondered about her sometimes, but I doubted she was going to blow the
whistle.
     Strangely, I hadn't felt much different without panties until that moment.  Then, suddenly,
I was very aware of the wool tickling my butt and of the increasing moistness between my legs. I
fantasized about hiking my skirt up and burying a finger or two, and wondered if I would make it
to the end of the day without a public orgasm.


     In the front row of Mr. Allenby's class, Katie was more careful, keeping her knees level
and parting them only a little, and only when Allenby was looking directly at her.  The light was
so good and her skirt so short, I knew he had a clear view right up her fallopian tubes.
     He usually stayed in one spot, leaning on the lectern as he talked, but this morning he
abruptly decided to ramble.  Maybe Katie's uncovered twat was too much for him.  When he
paused in front of my seat, at what he probably thought was the "safe" end of the front row, I
took a chance without even thinking.
     Scooting my hips forward in an unaccustomed slouch, I raised one knee and spread my
thighs.  Allenby looked up my skirt, hesitated, and stared me in the eye with a very confused
expression.  I winked at him but never cracked a smile.  The poor man sat back against his desk
and looked faint.  He finally made it back to the lectern, where he studied the lighting fixtures as
he talked for the rest of the period.
     Katie and I giggled in the hall after class.  "I can't believe you did that, Rebecca!"
     "I've been hanging around you too long!"
     "So, tell: What did your first flash feel like?"
     "Well, kind of sexy," I admitted.  "And I felt kind of powerful."
     "Yeah, I've noticed that, too.  Of course, if you flash the wrong person at the wrong time,
you could get into a bad situation, kid."
     "I'll just have to be careful, then."  I looked around but no one was eavesdropping.  "It's
really strange.  I don't think panties make that much physical difference... but I'm more aware of
myself right now than usual, that's for sure.  It must be psychological."
     She gave me a look.  "Don't overanalyze, Rebecca.  This is supposed to be a thrill thing. 
Just enjoy it."
     "Oh, I am, I am!"  She giggled again at my expression.


     We compared notes with the others in the lunchroom.  "I had a little adventure in Art this
morning," Mary Ruth said smugly. "I was sitting on one of the tall stools, working on a
watercolor, and I started to feel kind of, um... hot.  I wanted to sit on my fingers but I couldn't, of
course.  But that paint brush had a *very* long handle...."
     "You didn't!" Jan squealed and we shushed her.  "You got yourself off with a paintbrush? 
In class?"
     "Yeah, sure did.  I haven't checked yet, but since I was painting with crimson at the time,
my box probably looks like a baboon's."
     Annie spoke up.  "Guys, there's one thing all of us forgot about: Gym."
     Jan looked startled and muttered, "Oh, shit."  That hadn't occurred to me, either.  How to
explain the lack of underwear in the locker room?  Annie was the only one of us with morning
P.E.
     "So, how did you handle it?"  I wanted to know.
     "Oh, I just pulled my gym shorts up and *then* took off my skirt.  I've noticed a few of
the 'bashful flowers' doing that, so nobody paid any attention."
     "I don't think I'll bother to hide it," Katie said thoughtfully.  Naturally.  But she didn't
have Gym until last period anyway and sometimes didn't shower until she got home because she
liked to be first out of the parking lot.  So it probably wouldn't matter.
     Jan's morning had been less eventful, except that she'd had to make more trips to the
bathroom than usual.  She'd gotten so horny just *imagining* people knew she wasn't wearing
panties, she'd had to jack off twice.  Mary Ruth's bare and cavernous cunt had caused her some
additional concern.  In Home Ec, she'd actually stuffed three cotton balls into herself, she was
dripping so much from arousal.


     My Sociology teacher, Mr. Irons, was the oldest teacher around.  He was more or less
alive but he never noticed who sat where, so we migrated around the room as we chose --
practicing the social dynamics Irons was supposed to be lecturing about. Today, I grabbed the
chair at Charlie Harker's right so I could swivel around to the left if I wanted to.  He was going to
notice me or else.
     Twenty minutes into the lecture, Irons was doing his trademark unfocused drone and
most of the class was ignoring him. Charlie was drawing little doodles in his notebook.  I raised
myself off the seat a little and slowly eased my skirt an inch higher.  Then I turned ninety degrees
to face Charlie.  The girl behind me was dozing (Mr. Irons right after a big lunch was deadly) and
no one else was watching.  I took a deep breath; what I was about to do was completely unlike
me, but a couple of covert glances at Charlie helped me make up my mind.
     Charlie Harker was about six feet tall, wide in the shoulders, and narrow in the waist.  His
eyes were brilliant blue and his hair was short and very black.  He had big hands and long,
tapering fingers, and I'd heard him beat a piano keyboard into submission at more than one party. 
He was also captain of the boys' varsity swimming team and just remembering what he looked
like in a swim suit gave me palpitations.  He was unarguably gorgeous.  And he didn't have a
steady girlfriend.
     I stuck out my foot and quietly tapped Charlie's chair leg. He glanced over and I gave him
the warmest smile I could muster. He blinked and smiled back kind of absently.  I leaned back
farther, propped a foot on the chair rung as I'd seen Katie do, and eased my skirt even higher.  He
blinked again, looked at the gap between my knees... then looked again much harder and seemed
to wake up.
     "Rebecca, what are you doing?" he demanded under his breath.
     "It's called 'vamping,'" I hissed back.  "I'm trying to get your attention."
     He gave me a peculiar look.  "You succeeded.  You're a strange girl, Rebecca."
     "Why don't you ask me out?" I replied.  "I could be even stranger.  You never know."
     "I don't think so.  Why don't you stop this?  You're embarrassing yourself."
     I popped open the top button of my blouse and he blinked again.  "How about if I just
take off *all* my clothes?"
     He looked quickly around but there was no place he could escape to.  "Rebecca!  You'd
better stop, or---"
     "Or what?  You'll scream for help?"  I tapped the next button with my fingernail.  The
tiny *click* *click* actually made him flinch.  What was wrong with this guy?  What was wrong
with me?
     "We'll talk later," he said and turned away resolutely.  And he totally ignored me for the
rest of the period.


     On the way upstairs for math the next period, I ran into Annie coming down.  She seemed
flushed and kind of excited.  I stopped her on the landing and said in a significant tone, "How's it
going?"
     She grinned.  "I thought this would be scary but it's really kind of exciting!" she replied in
a low tone.
     Without taking my eyes off her face, I said casually, "You know, don't you, that there's a
couple of freshman boys down there looking up our skirts?"  Her grin disappeared and she
shifted her weight as if to move away.  She hesitated and flicked a glance downward.  Then she
winked and managed to drop one of her books.  When she half-crouched and half-bent to retrieve
it, her back to the railing, I heard an audible gasp from below.  I wondered if the lurking
freshmen had wet their pants.  When I looked down, one of them had his mouth open so wide I
could have dropped my purse into it without touching the sides.  I was beginning to realize what
Katie meant about "power."
     Math was kind of boring.  Mrs. McKelvy wasn't the sort of person you could wiggle your
bare ass at, and we also had to sit alphabetically -- which happened to put me in the middle of a
bunch of other girls.  I glanced around and saw a couple of them eyeing me curiously; they
obviously suspected something was going on but didn't know just what.  None of my buddies
were there to trade secret smiles with so I just sat and doodled Charlie's name (entwined with red
hearts) in my notebook and kept my legs together while I waited for the period to end.


     Jan's Fifth Period class had been next door so she met me in the hall and we adjourned to
the girls' bathroom, as we did every day at this time.  Katie and Mary Ruth were already there,
looking smug, and Jan showed up a few seconds later.
     Katie checked the stalls quickly and then murmured, "Everyone still bare?"  She flipped
her skirt up in front to prove *she* was, anyway, and the rest of us giggled and followed suit.
     "I sure seem to be dropping a lot of books on the stairs today," Annie said thoughtfully. 
"Twice just on the way in here."  The rest of us cracked up.
     "I think the boys in Government have figured out the Dare," Mary Ruth reported.  "They
kept staring at my crotch and I finally had to excuse myself and duck into the toilet so I could get
myself off.  I've *never* gotten that overheated in school before!"  God, I thought, she's getting
to be like Jan.
     "What about you, Rebecca?" Katie asked with a grin. "Anything unusual to report?"
     "Well, I gave Charlie Harker an eyeful but I think it just pissed him off.  I thought this
no-panties stunt would get his attention for sure."
     Jan shrugged.  "Maybe he's gay or something...."
     That really made me mad -- I wasn't sure why.  I spun around so quick, Jan jumped back
out of reach with a startled look. "Don't you say that!  Charlie's not gay!"  How could they think
such a thing?  "I'm going to get to him one way or another before I leave this building today!  I
swear I am!"  I glared around at my friends.
     Katie made "there, there" motions with her hands.  "She didn't mean anything by it,
Rebecca.  Nobody thinks Charlie's gay.  Just calm down, okay?"  I let myself be soothed and
wondered why I'd flared up like that in defense of Charlie's heterosexuality.  Maybe I was
secretly afraid he really was gay. That would take me off the hook but it would also mean
Charlie was beyond the reach of my wiles.  And I wanted Charlie so bad, it kept me awake at
night.  But he was targeted now: I'd just committed myself to my mission in front of all my
friends.  That boy wouldn't know what hit him.


     I happened to know that Charlie worked in the Journalism office during Sixth Period and
he often stayed an hour or so late, working on a story.  Well... truthfully, I didn't just "happen" to
know.  I'd stealthily followed him a few times.
     So I hurried out of my last period Health class, where an embarrassed Mrs. Collins was
trying to deal with "Friday Question Time."  The idea was for students to bring in anonymous
written questions they were too shy to ask out loud.  Then there'd be an open discussion.  But the
students always put a lot of thought into concocting questions that would lead Mrs. Collins right
into deep water.
     Ninety seconds later, I was peeking through the window in the Journalism office door. 
Charlie was still in there, all right, and he seemed to be alone.  He was hunched over a mousepad
and staring at a monitor, probably trying to fit in a story that was too long.
     How much longer would he be staying, though, on a Friday? The building had emptied
even faster than usual, with most of the kids hurrying home to get ready for dates.  Did Charlie
have a date later?  I hoped Katie wouldn't get mad at me for making her wait in the parking lot. 
After about ten minutes, Charlie still didn't seem ready to quit for the day and I hadn't seen
another soul, so I took a deep breath and quietly opened the door.  I slipped in and turned the
inside deadbolt as silently as I could with my hands shaking the way they were.  I slowly pulled
the shade down over the window and Charlie looked up at the sudden change in the lighting.
     "Hi, Charlie," I said softly as I walked over to the desk where he was working.
     "Rebecca?  What are you doing in here?"  He glanced at his wristwatch.  "Why are you
still at school at all?"  He swiveled his chair around and frowned at me.
     "You said we were going to talk later, remember?"  I was shaking with nervous tension as
I moved up so close he had to lean back in his chair.  What if he just laughed and told me to go
home?  I mean, I was a junior and he was a senior; maybe that made a difference to him.  I put
one hand carefully on his shoulder and prayed he wouldn't get angry and shake it off.
     But he didn't.  He just sat there with his elbows resting on the arms of his chair, staring at
me.  He had every right to.  I didn't make a habit of coming on to guys, not seriously, and this
was the second time I'd done it to him in a single day.
     "Don't you like me, Charlie...?"  I put my other hand on his other shoulder and leaned my
knees against his.
     He swallowed and began to look uneasy.  "Sure, I like you, Rebecca.  But I don't think--"
     "I like you a *lot*, Charlie."  I heard the huskiness in my own voice and I knew he could
feel the trembling through my hands.  "Don't you want to touch me?"  I reached down, took his
hands in mine, and set them on my hips.  He seemed kind of stunned as I stared deep into his
eyes.
     "Move your hands down, Charlie.  C'mon -- do it."  And he did, letting those long fingers
trail downward to my thighs.  He paused and swallowed again, and his big hands began moving
back up, under my skirt this time.  Little thrill bumps popped out all over my legs as his hands
encircled my thighs just below my crotch.  My nipples tightened up and all their nerve endings
switched on HIGH.  I leaned my hips forward a little more and Charlie's thumbs slid up to the
bottom edge of my pussy.
     I moaned a little.  I couldn't help it.  And that sound seemed to jolt Charlie out of his
mental paralysis.  He stood up so suddenly I almost fell over backward.  His hands clutched my
arms and the way those deep blue eyes glimmered down at me, I couldn't breathe.
     "What do you want from me, Rebecca?  Why are you doing this?"  He shook me a little
for emphasis.  Ordinarily, I probably would have been frightened, but not now.
     "You know what I want," I replied.  "And you know what you want to do, too, don't you,
Charlie?"  I pulled loose of his grip and slipped my arms up and around his neck, pulling his face
down within reach.  At the last moment, he regained the initiative and kissed me first.  My knees
went weak from the jolt of electricity that shot through me.  I remembered studying spark gaps in
science class and wondered if that was what was happening between my legs.  And I was *very*
aware of the twitching of his penis against my stomach.
     He kissed me so hard I thought my teeth were going to bend. "Why are you doing this?"
he moaned again, even as his hands were hiking up the back of my skirt and then squeezing my
bare butt like a couple of grapefruits.


     I have to confess something here: Not only was I a virgin, I'd never even gone this far
with a boy before.  I'd wanted to but I'd always managed to stay in control, afraid that if I
continued whatever it was I was doing, I'd get my ticket punched for sure.  And I figured I'd
regret it later, in the cool light of reason.
     This time, I wasn't so sure I cared -- not while Charlie's long middle finger was stroking
the cleft between my ass cheeks like that.  Did I want to quit being a virgin?  I knew how to do it,
in theory.  I'd even watched an adult X-rated film that Katie had somehow gotten hold of the
previous summer.  And some of what I'd seen in the film came back to me.
     I kissed Charlie again but let my hands fall down between us.  I stroked his thick, rigid
cock through the front of his dark chinos and was surprised (and a little scared) at how large it
seemed to be.  Would it even fit in me if we got that far?  One step at a time, Rebecca!
     Charlie went sort of rigid and still when I started sliding down his zipper. "Rebecca...?"
he said in a low, warning tone. It was like I was turning the key that opened the lion's cage but I
managed it without too much fumbling.  I had touched exactly two penises in my life, neither of
them as large and threatening as this one.  And I'd certainly never been the aggressor like this.
     As Charlie's cock pushed its way out of its confinement, I swallowed and then put both
hands around it and looked up into Charlie's eyes again.  His lips were parted a little and his eyes
were half-closed, and he stood very still.  I wondered what would happen if I chickened out and
immediately tucked that monster back in its hiding place again.  Well, I'd have an immediate
reputation as a "tease," for one thing.  And I certainly would mess up the only chance I probably
would ever have to put my female power to work on Charlie Harker.
     So I slid my hands lightly up and down a little -- I'd done *that* before -- and I thought
again about what I'd seen in that adult film.  What I had in mind didn't seem too difficult when
I'd watched those actresses doing it; they'd even seemed to enjoy it, even if they were acting. 
And I was sure Charlie kept himself nice and clean.
     I took another deep breath as I knelt in front of this gorgeous guy I seemed to have
trapped.  He rested his hands on top of my head and let his fingers sift slowly through my hair. It
gave me chills, and courage.  His cock was completely stiff, now, like a big pinkish salami, but
softer to the touch.  I held it in my hands like a giant lollypop and stuck out my tongue, just
touching it at first, then licking the underside of the flared head.
     It didn't taste nasty or anything and I wondered why some girls made such a big deal
about oral sex.  That question was answered a few seconds later when I rather timidly opened my
mouth wide and took in the whole head of Charlie's penis.  I squeezed my lips around it and
brushed the tip of my tongue back and forth across the little hole.  He quivered and tightened his
grip on my hair, and leaned forward a little too far.  I couldn't draw back and suddenly my mouth
was full of warm cock and I was on the edge of panic.  I had flashes of choking to death; how
would they ever explain to my parents how their daughter died?  I managed to make an urgent
*ummmpph* sound.
     Charlie immediately loosened his hold and withdrew almost entirely from my mouth. 
"Sorry," he muttered hoarsely.  "Sorry, Rebecca."  He hadn't been able to control himself for a
moment there -- Charlie Harker, who *never* lost his cool.  Yeah, this was power, all right.
     I tried it again, this time gripping the base of his cock firmly with one hand and lightly
cradling his balls in my other. I was amazed how soft and cuddly they felt -- and how vulnerable
they were, too.  I began moving my mouth up and down and swabbing my tongue around
everywhere.
     I stopped worrying about gagging and found I was actually enjoying myself.  More than
that, I was thinking about where this big piece of live meat was really intended to go and it was
giving me tingly feelings between my legs.  I wanted to stick one hand up under my skirt and
stroke my little bud but I couldn't do it in front of Charlie... even though I was kneeling here with
his cock in my mouth.
     I went up and down the length of his penis, first sucking on the head, then trying to
gobble up as much of the shaft as I could, then letting it pop out so I could stick my tongue out
and lick it all over.  And after a few minutes, poor Charlie was barely able to stand upright, his
knees were quivering so badly.  I remembered (boy, did I remember!) how, when I played with
myself at night sometimes, how I really lost it when I came.  I mean, even if my father had
walked into my room five seconds before my orgasm, I still wouldn't have been able to stop.  But
somehow, it had never occurred to me that a boy could get that emotionally involved in sex.
     Then Charlie said in a tight voice, "If you keep going, Rebecca, I'm going to come in
your mouth.  If you don't want me to, I guess you'd better stop."
     I slowed while I thought about that but I didn't stop.  The actresses in the film I'd seen had
let the guys squirt all over their breasts and stuff, but I was still completely dressed. Besides, I'd
come this far....  I glanced up at Charlie's face and increased the suction.
     The dam burst ten seconds later, with gobs of jism spattering the back of my throat and
his cock jerking in my grip. I just swallowed as rapidly as I could and kept on sucking. After four
or five big eruptions and a whole lot of little ones, he seemed to run dry and leaned back against
the edge of his desk, gasping for breath.  His cock was beginning to shrink; it didn't look so scary
any longer.
     Charlie helped me climb to my feet and the uncertain smile on his red face and the beads
of sweat running down his neck made me feel like the Princess of Power.  I knew, deep down,
that Charlie was basically a nice guy, and that I might be feeling differently if he had been some
sleaze who tried to go to the next level.  But that was one of the reasons I was so crazy about
Charlie.
     Good thing, too, because somewhere along the line I had decided I really wasn't ready to
stop being a virgin, not yet, not even with Charlie Harker.  I'd given my first-ever blow job and
that was enough for right now.


     After a minute or so, Charlie had his breath back and had put his cock back in his pants
and zipped them up.  "Rebecca, I repeat what I said earlier: You are definitely a strange girl!" But
he was smiling warmly down at me when he said it so I smiled back.  "I'm not even going to ask
you again what possessed you to come in here this afternoon.  But I'm sure never going to forget
it."  He reached out and gently traced the outline of my jaw with a fingertip; it felt wonderful.
     "And this is probably going to sound strange under the circumstances," he went on, with
a crooked grin, "but would you mind if I called you up this weekend?  Maybe we could go out
together?  Go to a show or something -- maybe just go for a walk...?"
     Part of me wanted to jump up and down and yell, "Ya-hoo!" but I controlled it. 
Besides....  "Charlie, I'd love to -- but it wouldn't be just for sex, would it?  I loved doing this for
you, but I don't want you to think... I mean, I don't want you to ask me out just so you can do it to
me."  And I held my breath.
     "Rebecca, would you believe me if I said the thought of kissing you and at least making
out with you again hasn't crossed my mind?  I've been thinking about asking you out for at least a
month: I just hadn't gotten up the courage yet."
     He looked sort of embarrassed by the admission.  I was just surprised.  I mean, I figured a
guy as nice-looking as that would have his choice of all the little cheerleaders and bimbettes in
school.  And he was trying to get up the courage to ask *me* out?
     He saw my expression of disbelief and looked sheepish. "Yeah, I know what you're
thinking.  But I can't help it -- I'm just very shy around girls, okay?  Half the dates I have are
because the *girl* invited me to a dance or a party or something. But you're definitely different,
Rebecca.  And you're nice. Strange, but nice.  So: Can I call you?"
     I felt terrific... and a little stupid around the edges for not figuring out some of this earlier. 
"Call me, Charlie!  I'll be waiting!"
     "Great!"  He looked around and began gathering up his books and his jacket.  "Can I offer
you a ride home?"
     Oh, my God!  Katie!  "Oh, shit!  There's a friend of mine waiting for me out in the
parking lot!"  I looked at my watch. Nearly an hour since the last bell.  Katie wouldn't be there --
but she'd sure have a thing or two to say the next time I saw her.  My friend was a lot of things
but patient wasn't one of them, and she hated unpunctuality.
     Two minutes later, Charlie was hurrying to keep up with me as I ran down the echoing
hall to the door that led to the student parking area.  When I burst through, I looked around
quickly and saw only a couple of the school's maintenance pickups and Charlie's beat-up old
Mustang -- and then Katie's Miata cruised out slowly from behind one of the trucks.  I hurried
over, out of breath, and Katie pushed her shades down her nose so she could stare at me over
them.  She can be pretty intimidating when she does that.
     "Katie, I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, I should have told you I was going, uh,... on an
errand...."  I knew I was babbling. But Katie was looking past me at Charlie as he wandered
down the asphalt path, trying to juggle both his books and mine after our mad rush out of the
building.
     "After fifteen minutes, Rebecca, I almost left," Katie said solemnly, never taking her eyes
off Charlie.  "But I got curious, after what you said in the powder room.  Looks like you weren't
kidding...."  She looked up at me and then peered more closely. "Got something white drying on
your chin."  And leered in a sisterly way that made me grin back and turn bright red at the same
time.
     Charlie arrived while I was scraping madly with my fingernail at the crusted semen that
had dribbled over my lip and down my chin.  "Hi, Katie," he said cheerfully and turned to me.
"So, you've got a way home, then, right?  So I'll call you tonight, okay?"  I nodded and watched
the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. 'Looks like you've got a boyfriend now,'
I thought to myself.  And it looks like your days as a virgin are numbered.
     He stood there, digging out his own car keys and smiling at me as I started to climb in
beside Katie.  Then, on a sudden impulse, I stood up on the seat and flipped up the back of my
skirt as Katie put the car in gear.  I didn't look back as I settled in, but I could hear Charlie's
incredulous shout of laughter mixed with Katie's soprano chortle as we spun gravel out of the
parking lot.


                               END


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright 1994 by Michael K. Smith.  Copies may be made and posted elsewhere for personal
enjoyment, but all commercial rights are reserved.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
