Adam Vivian Naked In School Opening WeekPart 5 Friday
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Adam & Vivian Naked In School - Opening WeekPart 2 free porn video
I have no idea why I signed up for Communications. Perhaps I imagined being a sportscaster, or being interviewed for the news after a swim meet. But whatever my expectations had been, the reality was quite different.
First, there was the room. The front third contained a flat raised stage with a television news set on the right and talk-show furniture on the left. Partially blocking the view were two television cameras and a teleprompter. Microphones and lighting fixtures hung from the ceiling.
Couches and TV sets occupied the remaining two thirds of the room. The couches were tiered in three rows of three, with end tables along each row. The television sets were all tuned to a 24-hours news channel, which had a naked man and woman interviewing some politician.
Nadia and Vivian had taken a couch in the back row and saved the middle seat for me. Because it seemed to be the last remaining seat, I took it. Nadia's PDA was beeping incessantly.
"You better switch that to mute," I told her.
"I don't know what's with this thing today," she replied. "Since this morning I've got, like, five thousand messages about refinancing my mortgage, or transferring money out of Africa, or just gibberish. I thought I had that stuff filtered."
"Why do you suppose that happened, Yonson?" Vivian asked pointedly.
"I haven't a clue," I replied. "Look, even if I wanted to do such a thing, I wouldn't know how."
"Ah, but do you know anybody who knows?" she countered.
"You mean, do I know some scheming, manipulative person willing to meddle in someone else's affairs? Nope, sorry, I don't know anyone like that. In fact, I try to keep away from them."
Nadia threw me an exasperated look, then continued ranting. "Well, I wish this thing would behave itself. I need to schedule a makeup appointment."
"Didn't you get the ninety-day treatment last time?" Vivian asked.
"Yes, but over the summer, I think the sunlight faded it. The boating and the water skiing over the weekend were the last straws."
"You want me to call them for you?" Vivian asked.
"No, I'll get this figured out. Oh shit! Now I'm getting ads for penis enlargement creams as well."
Just then the bell rang and a naked guy with perfect hair entered the room. I'm not kidding about the hair, either. Not only was his scalp hair perfect, but his eyebrows, his eyelashes, his back hair, his arm hair, his leg hair, his public hair, and who knows where else? Certain spots, I had no interest in checking. At the flip of a switch his image replaced the newscast.
"Hello, class," he began. "Welcome to Communications class. My name is Blair Magnusson and I'll be teaching the course this year. As you know, video is by far the predominant communication medium of our age. As a result, that will be the primary focus of the class. In addition to textbook study, homework, and written tests, each of you will have the opportunity to try a variety of occupations from the television industry: program planner, script writer, program director, camera technician, sound technician, talk show host, talk show guest, and news anchor, just to name a few."
Blah, blah, blah. Mr. Magnusson was an excellent speaker but the course outline just wasn't that interesting -- not at the level of detail he was presenting. Of course, just like on real television, we'd need to be naked anytime we were on-camera, and that's why he needed to be naked as well. It seemed to me, though, that anyone so fastidious about his appearance probably liked to show it off.
Then again, for most of the class, appearing naked on-camera would be no big deal. More than half of them were naked already! I wondered how many put up with being naked in the hope they could be on television, and how many chose to be naked for other reasons and felt broadcasting was an outlet.
Crystal arrived almost exactly five minutes into the class. Mr. Magnusson immediately noticed her pompom uniform, and after a sweep of the classroom, apologized for the lack of a seat. Three nerdy guys in the front row made a big deal of squishing together but at Mr. Magnusson's suggestion, Crystal demurely took a seat on the talk show set.
As with most classes, the first day was an easy one. After Mr. Magnusson finished reviewing the course outline, he told each of us to come on stage and try reading from the teleprompter. This was harder than you might think, but I suspect Mr. Magnusson was actually running a chicken test. Anyone wearing clothes had to take them off.
Crystal, of course, left for the auditorium five minutes before the bell. When the bell actually rang, Vivian headed for College English and Nadia went to Math. I took the opportunity for a quick call to Ben, and then I set out for English.
Perhaps it was my imagination, but the hallway scene seemed to be getting crazier with each passing period. Mostly it was small things like blouses not buttoned, jeans not zipped, and skirts not fastened. But I passed several students who'd discarded their tops, bottoms, or both, and were cruising around in their underwear.
In English, strangely enough, everyone but me was normally and completely dressed. Feeling caught once more with no support system, I searched desperately for a familiar face. My reward was Sandra Samuels, a girl I'd known from English class the previous year.
"Hi, Sandra," I greeted her. "Did you have a good summer?" She was dressed very conservatively, in a knee-length skirt, a matching vest, and expensive-looking blouse and shoes. Suddenly I felt more conspicuous and out-of-place than ever.
"Yeah, pretty much. Worked, hung out, took a family vacation to visit relatives. Hey, I saw you on the news yesterday. I like the new look. Especially in person."
"Yeah, well, the whole thing was a mix-up," I explained, relaxing only a little. "I'm not really comfortable like this; it's just that people keep hiding or stealing my clothes."
"Do they take your lunch money, too?" Sandra teased.
"Very funny," I admitted, then the bell rang and a teacher entered the room. Sandra took her seat, and I sat across the aisle from her. This placed me in the furthest aisle from the door, but in the second desk from the front.
Period 3 - English
"Good Morning, students. My name is Roland Kent," the teacher said slowly, trilling the R, spitting out the k and t, and sounding for all the world like Alfred Hitchcock. "It is my pleasure to be your instructor this term." He had a way of raising his voice, raising his eyebrows, and slowing his enunciation at the end of each sentence. "The primary objectives this year will be enlargement of vocabulary, increased mastery of grammar and composition, and further appreciation of the written word."
On and on he dragged for about five minutes, then Crystal entered the room and looked around before heading toward the back row. When she spotted me sitting next to Sandra, she threw me a dirty look but said nothing.
"Are you Crystal Clearey?" Mr. Kent asked dryly. "And may I assume, based on your attire, that you are in the pom... pom... squad?" He seemed to have trouble speaking the word pom, as if it weren't a real word and had no business leaving his lips.
"Yes and yes, sir," she replied.
"Very well. Please try not to distract the class any further," Kent told her, and then he resumed droning through the course outline, the books we'd have to read, and the essays we'd have to write.
Sandra did her best to pay attention, as did I, but we kept stealing glances at each other. It got embarrassing after a while, but it wasn't as if anything else interesting was going on. And I was sure I could hear Crystal coughing, clearing her throat, wiggling in her seat, and otherwise registering protest.
With fifteen minutes left in the period, Mr. Kent told everyone to write a paragraph about anything we wanted, and then turn it in when the bell rang. I scratched out four or five sentences about working at Game Gear and Garb, then hit Submit just as the bell rang.
"So Adam, I hope we can still be friends," Sandra encouraged me.
"I'm sure we can," I replied. "In fact, do you have a minute to talk right now?"
"Sure, if you can come along to my locker," Sandra replied.
Crystal, who was hovering nearby, suddenly interrupted, "Adam, do you have lunch now?" she asked impatiently.
"Yeah, why?"
"Well, I'll save a seat for you. OK?"
"I was hoping to find Dan and Ben," I explained.
"OK, I'll look for them," Crystal replied. Then, after hesitating a moment, she streaked toward the cafeteria. I don't think she liked my being with Sandra.
When we got to her locker, Sandra took off her vest and hung it inside. Then, she began unbuttoning her skirt.
"What's up?" I asked.
"Oh, it's this stupid dress code, Or lack thereof. Or maybe it's me. I spent a ton of money on this outfit and it's just not working. I might as well be wearing a jellaba robe for all the attention I'm getting. Here, hold this a minute, would you?" And with that, she handed me her skirt. Under it, she'd been wearing a burgundy half slip and matching panties. I found out about the panties when she reached inside the slip and somehow dropped them to the floor.
"What do you think about the blouse?" she asked.
"It's nice," I replied.
"No, I mean, should I leave it on?"
"Maybe just unbutton it," I suggested. That's when I learned she was wearing a lacy bra that matched the half slip.
"Thanks for helping," Sandra said. "Now, can I ask you a really big favor?"
"What's that?"
"Would you stain my slip?"
"You mean, would I cum on it?"
"Yeah. It seems to be part of the look. Look, I'm sorry if this is too much."
"Uh, no, it's OK, but uh, you want me to do it right here in the hall?"
"Why not? I've seen plenty of other stuff happening in the hall. Can I do it or do you want to?"
"Either way," I replied, not sure of her meaning. But then she grabbed my cock, aimed it as her slip, and began fondling. A freshmen couple stopped to watch.
"Not there, here," I instructed her, gently moving her hand. "And move in and out, not just tighter and looser. Oooh, yeah; that's it. That's it. Keep that up. Get ready..."
And then, of course, I spewed cum all over her slip. Oh baby, did I spew! I spewed and spewed and spewed! I guess that's what Sandra wanted, though, because she was doing the aiming. She even used her blouse to wipe me off when I'd finished.
"Thanks, Adam. I really appreciate that," she said at last. The freshmen were unzipping.
"No problem," I replied. "Now can I ask you for a favor?"
"Shoot," she replied.
"I want to play a prank on someone, and I'm hoping you can help. Are you still working at that cosmetologist's?"
"Yeah, Eisenblush Salon. Why?"
I told her just as the freshman guy was getting hard and the girl was figuring out where she wanted it.
"Gosh, Adam, I don't know. That's pretty serious. Who is it?"
"Nadia Blosser. Do you know her?"
"The most scheming, conniving manipulator in the state? Yeah, I know her. What'd she talk you into? Or out of?"
"Well, she threw me together with Vivian Vivichelli for four days. Then she and Vivian worked a scam that kept me naked the whole time. She talked me into these earrings. Shall I go on?"
"No, but remind me to thank her for getting you naked. And I think the earrings add a nice touch. I really like the way you look now, Adam. But yes, I'll help you out. The salon gives me 50% discount coupons for rounding up new customers, and if Nadia needs a treatment, I'm sure I can get her to take one. I'll call you when she makes an appointment."
"Tomorrow afternoon would be good," I suggested.
"I'll do my best," Sandra promised. "In the meantime, thanks for the favor and don't be afraid to call, OK?
The cum was dripping off the hem of Sandra's slip by then, but she unabashedly closed her locker and headed down the hall to class. The freshman girl was putting on her now cum-soaked jeans, and it didn't seem like the guy was bothering to zip up. As for me, I headed quickly to the nearest washroom.
Let me tell you some more about being permanently erect. For protection of sisters everywhere, Mother Nature arranged the male plumbing system so pissing and cuming are mutually exclusive. When you're soft, you can piss but you can't cum. When you're erect, you can cum but not piss. Which, if you're erect all the time, presents a definite problem.
Fortunately, during the last few days I'd discovered that after sex I usually softened up just enough to pee. The window of opportunity was only a few minutes, but it was there and I hoped to take it.
Thanks again to the Equal Access To Facilities Act, the previously separate washrooms for girls and boys had been combined into one large room. The doors were marked simply Lavatory and Out. Inside were clusters of toilets, urinals, squat holes, bidets, and hand showers, all separated by partitions too short to serve any real purpose. The room was crowded but all things considered, not that many sex acts were in progress. Most kids were just doing their business.
It was pretty strange just walking up to a urinal without opening my fly, and even stranger doing it with girls walking around. I really did need to pee, though, so I just closed my eyes and tried to relax. Nope, nothin' doin'. I also tried thinking about the least sexual things I could imagine: math problems, rotting garbage, poison ivy, stuff like that. Nothing worked and time was passing. That's when I devised Plan B.
You know the effect chilly water has on male genitalia, right? Up at the lake, whenever I was in the water, I'd been able to piss fairly easily. So that was Plan B; find a hand shower, set the water temperature on cold, and practically freeze my balls off. It was painful but it worked.
The next person in line for the shower was a girl holding some panties and a pair of shorts. She gave me a dirty look but I just hosed down the area, turned off the water, apologized, and handed her the wand. The shower wand. Then she smiled, told me she liked the way I looked, and rattled off her number.
Of course, there were no towels. I mean duh, where you have showers, you need towels, right? But this, apparently, was too much for someone to anticipate. So instead I made a fool of myself jumping up and down and shaking my legs for a minute. The girl from the shower threw me another smile and I briefly considered hanging around to watch her dry. But instead, still slightly wet, I headed for the lunchroom.
Lunch
Shooting the cafeteria line revealed another master stroke of planning; the tray guide and my erect dick were exactly the same height. So if I wasn't bumping the tray guide, I was bumping the tray itself, or ending up over it. A couple of the cafeteria ladies seemed to get quite a giggle out of it, although several others seemed offended. I was sorry if I grossed 'em out but it wasn't my idea and anyway, they needed to get used to it. What did they expect, working somewhere with no dress code?
After paying for my so-called food, I scanned the room looking for Crystal or anyone else I knew. It wasn't tough; after just a few seconds, Crystal stood up and started jumping around like one of her pompom routines. If the pompom streamers hadn't got my attention, her flying tits certainly would've. All in all, the effect was rather amazing.
True to her word, Crystal had commandeered Ben and Dan, plus Teah, Nadia, Vivian, and a couple more people I wasn't sure I recognized. Fortunately, she'd also seized one of the larger lunch tables.
As I worked my way across the room, I got the usual assortment of taunts, tweaks, teases, and touches, just like in the hallway. I vowed to kill whoever had stolen my clothes, or at least instill serious regret.
Seated on one side of the table were Dan and Teah, Nadia and Ben. Dan and Teah were discussing some stains on Teah's skirt and Ben, still wearing his skirt (excuse me, his kilt) was making a good show of trying to fix Nadia's PDA. The PDA was in some kind of loop announcing, "You have two thousand voice mail messages. You have two thousand one hundred voice mail messages. You have..." Even worse, most of them were for things Nadia didn't even need, like carpet cleaning, aluminum siding, refrigerator dishes, and lingerie demonstrations.
Crystal and Vivian had left me a place between them on the other side of the table, but both of them were engrossed in conversation with guys I hadn't met before. Vivian was talking to a naked guy I thought was on the football team, and feeling him up pretty good. Crystal's guy was wearing ordinary clothes, except that she'd unbuttoned his shirt and stuck her hand inside his fly. Of course, I didn't want anything to do with them, anyway. Not Crystal, not Vivian, and certainly not the guys.
For a few minutes I ate in silence, watching Ben put on his gosh-this-is-just-too-complicated act. Then Teah went into her innocent but embarrassing question mode.
"So, Adam, have you decided to stay naked, after all?"
"No. Somebody stole my clothes during swim workouts this morning," I explained yet again. Briefly, I considered making a sign and hanging it from my neck.
"Oh, that's too bad," Teah empathized. "I bet you're getting a lot of compliments, though. That look really suits you."
"A suit would be good right now. Any kind of suit: swimming, business, you name it. I'd much rather be wearing clothes."
"What about your... um... well, what about up front, there? Wouldn't that be uncomfortable with pants on?"
"Guys get lots of erections inside their pants. You make an adjustment; you move on. What about you? Keeping clean?"
"Not at all. Well, I'm not stinky or anything, but Dan did me twice this morning, and then in biology I spilled potting soil on myself, and then in the washroom shower I got my dress wet. This is so liberating!"
Crystal and Vivian were still making small talk and feeling up their respective partners, or boyfriends, or whatever they were. From time to time, one of their hips, or thighs, or arms, or shoulders would bump and rub against me. I suppose they were staging an act for my benefit. Then, suddenly, Crystal's guy arched his back, got red in the face, and started shaking. Twenty seconds later, he was looking down at himself and Crystal was licking her fingers.
"What am I going to do about these pants?" he wondered aloud.
At that point, Nadia set down her PDA and got involved. "My advice is to either chuck 'em or keep wearing 'em just as they are," she said. "Think of 'em as a trophy. You just made it with a pompom girl. Yee haw. Tell you what, though: I'd get rid of those underpants and leave the fly open. Who knows? You might get another visitor."
"What if I pop out and get stuck on my zipper?" he objected.
"Cut it off. No, man, I mean cut off the zipper. Look, I have a scissors in my purse. What's your name?"
"Owen Barnes."
"OK, Owen, come over here and hold still."
Crystal guided Owen over to Nadia, who knelt in front of him. First, she opened his belt, opened his zipper, and cut his underwear off. Then, she fastened his belt and cut off his zipper. Finally, she pulled out his package as far as it would go and gave him a quick public trim. Poor Owen couldn't believe what was happening, but Nadia kept telling him how hot he was going to look. He could've walked away any time, but didn't. Finally, Nadia gave him a squeeze on the cock, a slap on the butt, and instructions to go get 'em. He disappeared.
Crystal then turned her attention to me. "So, Adam, did you finish your business with that chick in the frumpy suit?"
"Yeah, it only took a minute," I relied casually. "I just knew her a little bit from last year."
"Then what took you so long?"
"I went to the boys' room, the washroom, the lavatory, whatever. It's hard, you know."
"We all know that."
"No, I mean, it's hard to pee. With being erect, you know."
"You peed OK up at the lake," Vivian interjected. By this time, her guy had cum and gone as well. She was wiping her hand with a napkin.
"The chilly water made me shrivel up enough," I explained, thinking this was a lousy topic for the lunch table. "That's what I ended up doing just now; using cold water from the hand shower."
"I am sooo glad they put in those hand showers," Teah threw in. Everyone paused and stared at her a second.
"Well, look Yonson, you wanna be careful who you hang around with, you know? Not everyone sees things the way we do," Vivian warned.
"I'm sure I'll be just as selective as you are," I replied. "Who was that guy, anyway?"
"Oh, him? That was Jerome LeBlanc. He's a wide receiver or somethin' on the football team. I knew him a little bit from last year."
"I bet he gets around a lot," I observed.
"Don't we all, Yonson? Don't we all. Well, the period is almost over. Whadya got next?"
"U.S. History," I replied.
"Hey, me too," Vivian remarked. "What an amazing coincidence. I'll walk you. You gotta pee again yet?"
"Uh, no. Does that concern you?"
"No, just checking. You gonna bus that tray or what?"
Yeah, I bussed it, and Vivian's as well. Nadia was off to English, and Crystal to Art. I hoped none of them, except Nadia, were in a class with Sandra.
Period 4 - U.S. History
As you might suspect, U.S. History was a pretty normal class. The room had a typical arrangement with a teacher's desk up front and student chairs arranged in a grid. The teacher was a Mr. Laitle who wore a suit that could have been brand new or fifty years old. It was that nondescript.
Erin and Katie, whose clothes I'd stained in Gym, took a couple of first-row seats. Katie was still wearing her stained blouse and slip. Erin was in her stained blouse but the miniscule pair of thong panties were long gone. In their place, she was wearing a stained pair of boys' Hawaiian print boxer shorts.
Vivian took a seat in the middle of the window aisle. I considered taking my usual seat in the rear, but instead took the next seat behind her. The bell rang just as we sat down, and Mr. Laitle started the typical first-day-of-class spiel: name, textbook, course syllabus, yada, yada, yada. More old news.
The thing that occupied my attention, however, was pissing. Pissing was getting to be, well, a pisser. Jerking off to take a piss wasn't an option, not with toilet stalls only three feet high. And even if I were willing to put up with the rude looks, pissing in the hand shower was too cold and too time-consuming.
When Nurse Klaus discovered the confusion that let to my permanent erection, he'd said that with a few days practice, I could figure out how to kill the erection for a minute or two. So that's basically how I passed most of history period. I made mental lists of my biggest turn-offs. I flexed and relaxed all sorts of muscles I don't usually think about. I meditated; I contemplated; I cogitated; I deliberated. I imagined myself hooked to a biofeedback machine and watching the needles. I imagined myself having sex again lost with Vivian on the beach. And to my chagrin, the effect of that last one was exactly the opposite of what I wanted.
The last third of the period was more interesting; Mr. Laitle asked the class what forces had caused the sudden and recent wave of open expression and hedonism in most Western societies. Several students cited the famous Central University cheerleaders, but Mr. Laitle suggested those events were actually part of a larger trend. As evidence he cited the rock singer Wholly Virgin and her year of nakedness, the use of naked bathroom and shower scenes to promote body care products, and the President's admission that for the first family, swim suits were an oxymoron. Mr. Laitle also had statistics showing a small but undeniable rise in the popularity of clothing-optional beaches and resorts around that time. He seemed to feel that although the CU cheerleaders may have staged the signature event, the true cause of the movement ran deeper.
All of which was well and good, but I'd have been happier if taking a piss could once again be a simple act and not a major production.
Vivian and I rose as one when the bell rang. Spooky. Her next class was Law and mine was Math, which are about as far apart as they come. For some reason I wished her a good day, then she was off running. As soon as she was out of sight, I looked around for eavesdroppers and then called Ben.
"Yeah man, what's up?" he answered.
"Can anyone overhear us?" I asked.
"Not from this end," Ben replied. "I'm triple encrypted, and I'm in the back corner of the computer lab. No echoes, no one else around."
"Great job on Nadia's PDA," I began. "How long can you keep this up?"
"It's all running on one of my systems at home," he replied. "It'll run three or four weeks before it starts repeating. What? You don't think she's had enough, yet?"
"Just keep it up for now, OK? And don't tell anyone else. Not even those girlfriends of yours."
"You really don't trust them, do you? Wasn't it Ginger who actually came clean with you?"
"Yeah, but that whole group still has something going on. Ginger is Nadia, Vivian, and Teah's cousin, you know. They've got someone watching me in every class. Could Nadia have done that? She works in the office, you know."
"Let me see... Yeah, she has authority to make schedule changes. They probably had her typing them in over the summer."
"Can you check to see if she rearranged my schedule, or Crystal's, or Vivian's, or her own?"
"Yeah, but not right now. Anything else?"
"Yeah. If Nadia did rig my schedule, get back at her, OK? Not Crystal or Vivian, though. You still wearing that skirt they talked you into?"
"I'm wearing it as a kilt, Adam. Think kilt. And like I said, I left my clothes at Lavi's house, then we went to Ginger's house, then this morning I had nothing to wear, and this is the only thing Ginger could find that fit me. Her dad is much bigger than I, and her brother is in like third grade or something. There's nothing fishy going on. Look, I gotta go. Call me tonight or something."
I was running late too, so I disconnected and hurried off to Math class.
Period 5 - Math
Same ol', same ol'. I found a seat in the back row of the math classroom and the teacher, Ms. Newton, announced her name, her contact information, and the course outline. She was a thin, pleasant woman, probably in her early 30's, wearing a satin blue blouse and a straight black skirt. She wasn't bad for a Math teacher but you don't get 'em looking like runway models.
Ethan and Paul Aquino, one of Ethan's partners in the 400-meter relay, cruised in right behind Ms. Newton. Both of them were naked and both had girls following them They sat together in the front row, and this seemed to shock Ms. Newton for a moment.
It was unsettling to sit in the back of the room and watch reactions. Some of the girls in class were interested or amused by Ethan and Paul's naked entrance, but others were shocked, offended, or embarrassed. The boys showed a mix of reactions as well. I wondered what kind of reactions followed me though the day.
Crystal and her pompom friend Kristin showed up five minutes into the period and took the two seats to my left. Crystal was careful to take the seat next to me, then she threw me a smile and a wink that I tried to ignore.
For the next forty minutes I concentrated mostly on pissing exercises. It helped to be in math class, which I found even more boring than history. Once or twice I thought I had it, too, although I stopped short of making a puddle there in class. One thing for sure: I kept Crystal's attention. The occasional slight droop in my otherwise constant erection seemed to fascinate her.
Ms. Newton dismissed the class a few minutes early, and Crystal pulled me aside to talk.
"Are you OK, Adam? I saw you drooping, there. It's not supposed to do that, is it?"
"Are you the expert now?" I countered, but this seemed to hurt Crystal more than I intended. "Look, sorry, this is all new for me. It's not like I wanted it. Well, sure, I wanted my dick, but not hard like this all the time and, well, you know. Anyway, I was trying to make it go down for a minute or two. I need to learn that so I can take a pee without making a major production of it. Do you mind?"
"Well, I gotta tell you Adam, I like the way you look. At first it was kind of intimidating but now, well, that's quite a package you've got there. I like the rest of you too; the abs, the butt, the legs, the chest, the shoulders. I like your face, too. As to your little exercises there, well, I know lots of girls who do Kegel exercises during class. It tones up the pussy muscles. Do you need to take a pee now? 'Cause I do. We could walk together."
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