Meredith and Derek Naked in SchoolThursday part 1
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M .1
Being naked is a lot less simple than it seems.
Of course, I didn't know this at the time. I rather blithely signed up only a few months after Brandon and I got together; I think I had some mad idea of boiling his blood in his veins. Which was a perfectly good idea, of course, and still is; this was during the time, you realize, when we were essentially drunk on each other. People frequently told us to get a room. Which, sometimes, we did. But in any case, I signed up in October, but got called in later May, right before my birthday, when enough time had passed and things between Brandon and I had cooled down a little—which is not to say that our love had soured, just that we had gotten a little more used to each other by then—and besides, things at that time were a lot more complicated than I expected.
Hello. My name is Meredith Levine. I'm Naked In School.
Dr. Zelvetti's office was about two-thirds full; aside from the monarch herself, the only face I recognized was Jeff Gainesborough's, whom I used to be much better friends with before Brandon came into my life. There were no other juniors in the room, so I had no idea who my partner this week might be.
That question was quickly answered when the door swung open and Derek Strong came in. Aside from Stasya, he's probably my best friend; we talk a lot online nowadays, especially where our respective significant others are involved. He grinned and sat down next to me. "So, ready to strut your stuff around for a week?"
"Me?" I said, amused. "Stuff? What stuff am I going to strut, exactly?"
"All right," he admitted, "maybe the wrong person to say that to. But I really don't think you're going to be totally ignored either."
I thought about Brandon. "No, I don't think so either."
"Does he know you're here?" Derek asked me.
"I decided to keep it secret from him," I said, smiling. "Does Arie know you're here?"
Derek shook his head. "No time. I just got the call last night and after I got to school I had to come straight here."
You may notice that we basically assumed we'd be partnering together. We assumed this because we both knew who our real partners would be, and it wasn't the ones Dr. Zelvetti was going to assign to us. So why bother breaking up two pairs instead of one?
At that moment, the doors opened again and the remainder of this week's contingent of juniors entered. I don't know which one startled me more. "Faith Bennett??" I said, staring.
"Bernard Castagne?" Derek said in tones of total incredulity.
"Must be parents," I said, alluding to the option for parents to put their kids through The Program.
"Must be," Derek agreed. "But that's gonna suck, isn't it? I mean, you know... Faith."
"No kidding," I said. Faith is a beautiful girl by anyone's standards—long blonde hair often looking somewhat windswept and tangled, as though she was constantly at the mercy of the elements; wide, blue-gray eyes and a smile like the breaking dawn. But she didn't have the sort of super-sized female accoutrements that seem to be in style nowadays. She's... Well, a beautiful girl, really. As opposed to, say, last week's Erica Taylor, or Stasya, who are very much beautiful women.
"And pairing her with Bernard?" Derek said. "That's gonna be harsh. If anyone looks at him crosswise he practically darts under a table."
"And sometimes he has trouble holding onto his temper," I murmured.
"Yeah, if by 'Sometimes' you mean 'Always, ' " Derek said, which was unkind but entirely accurate. "Not to mention you can't tell what he's thinking. Those are the biggest glasses I've ever seen."
"You can't even call them glasses," I said. "You have to call them spectacles." They were simply too large, and, along with the world's most virulent case of acne, they dominated his face.
"That'll be a nasty pairing," Derek said. "I wonder what Dr. Zelvetti's thinking."
We should have known she would be listening in.
Within a few moments, most of the remaining participants had filtered in, and Dr. Zelvetti began the proceedings. She handed out whistles and pamphlets and went over the four rules: enforced nakedness; mandatory participation in class activities structured to take advantage of one's nakedness; the infamous Reasonable Request; and, last but not least, Relief. The Pamphlet had been updated with a fifth rule, involving the use of the safety whistles. She also explained the personal accounts we'd be required to write (this thing, in other words) and turn in, a tradition that had been born out of the firestorm surrounding Arie's and Brandon's experiences in The Program. Then she began naming off Program partners. As each person's name was called, they would stand and drop trou (and just about everything else), and then meet their partner. I wondered why Dr. Zelvetti had chosen to do it that way, creating a situation of inequality—one Partner naked and one clothed when they first met each other. Admittedly it was a very short interval, but nonetheless.
The seniors went first; the four of them were checked out quickly. Then it was our turn.
"Meredith Levine," said Dr. Zelvetti.
And so I stood up, shrugged off my backpack, stepped out of my shoes, took off my shirt and pants, took off my bra and panties, put them all in the juniors' clothes box at the foot of Dr. Zelvetti's desk, returned to my seat, and, conscious of the fact that everyone could see my pubic hair, waited for Dr. Zelvetti to call Derek's name.
She did... But she mispronounced it "Bernard Castagne."
Bernard stood up and shucked off his Star Trek t-shirt and pants and underwear. And that was it. Except for Derek's surprised stare.
There wasn't much of a crowd outside the Homer building, which honestly didn't surprise me; Dr. Zelvetti had set a trend, back when she picked Arie and Brandon, of paying special attention to the outcasts, the minorities, the non-entities around this politic and well-governed body we call high school. Nobody was interested in the geeks and the nerds and the throwbacks. So there was a small crowd hanging around waiting for us—mostly guys (and a few girls) hoping to cop a quick feel—but not much else.
The most unnerving thing happened at that point. Bernard and I successfully navigated the gauntlet of the lecherous, which wasn't as hard as it sounds; most of them were deterred by Bernard's total lack of physique and my total lack of boobs. So, in a spare moment, I said to him, "So tell me, Bernard, how'd you get into The Program anyway?"
In general, when one starts a conversation with somebody, one expects to be answered. So I was understandably irked when I received no answer. I turned, meaning to drive my point home— And realized he wasn't standing next to me anymore. A very quick scan of the vicinity revealed that he wasn't anywhere there either. It was like he had just gotten swallowed by a hole in the ground, except that there were none nearby, or dove into a bush, except that there were none of those nearby either. It was extremely disconcerting. I felt like a tumbleweed should have come rattling by.
When Faith and Derek came out, I was leaning in what I hoped was an unconcerned manner against the handicapped-access railing, trying to look like everything was normal. Derek, likewise a casualty of underdeveloped physique, was regurgitated by the crowd quite quickly and came over to see me. "Hey. What happened? Where's your partner?"
"He's disappeared," I said. "He may have turned invisible."
Derek blinked at my matter-of-fact tone.
"Where's yours?" I asked.
"Still in there somewhere," Derek said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.
"Err. Derek, I hate to be a worrywart, but... Is that safe?"
A startled look flashed across his face. "You know, you've got a point, she being who she is... Hey. Hey! Excuse me, let me through, I'm her partner..."
Derek waded into the sea of humanity and was quickly lost to view. Only a moment later an unexpected set of arms circled around my waist. A voice growled in my ear: "God, I love the smell of fresh girl in the morning."
I burst out laughing. "You what!"
"Well, sorry, I only had about three seconds to come up with a pick-up line," and Brandon and I laughed together.
Arie was there too, looking around in confusion. "Where's Derek? That's Stacy Jones coming out, she's a sophomore, right? Shouldn't Derek have been let out already?"
"Derek's somewhere in there," I said, waving my hand haphazardly at the crowd. I wasn't going to be put off by Arie being a worrywart. I was standing next to the man I love, and his hand was in mine, and his smile was just off to one side; everything, suddenly and quite pleasingly, was now right with the world. Though he doesn't know he's the man I love yet. We agreed, way back at the beginning, not to use the L-word until we were sure we meant it. (This was mostly because we saw Derek and Arie just flinging it around like poisoned water.) I have meant it, for quite a while now; I just haven't said it. I wonder if he's felt it on the tip of his tongue for months the way I have.
"Derek, huh," Brandon said. "He's your partner, then?"
"No, actually, he isn't," I said.
A fleeting look of panic crossed Arie's face. "Who is his partner, then?"
"Faith Bennett," I said.
Brandon and Arie gave me identical looks, as if someone had just punched them between the eyes. "Faith Bennett, " Arie repeated.
"I know," I said, "I didn't believe it either."
"Look, here comes Gavin," said Brandon, pointing—and, indeed, Gavin Strickland was detaching himself from the crowd around Faith and Derek. Brandon waved, and he came to join us. His new girlfriend, Erica Taylor, also wandered over from where she'd been loitering near Stetsen. "Hey guys. What's up?"
"Is that really Faith Bennett in there," Arie asked immediately.
Gavin put on the aspect of a news reporter. "Well, Arie, eyewitness reports are sketchy, but it does appear to be Faith Bennett—"
"Faith Bennett," Erica said incredulously.
"You know," I said dryly to Brandon, "I hope we're not getting tired of hearing that name, because it's going to be blurted out many, many times before the day is done."
"How'd she get into The Program anyway," Arie asked. "It's not like she has brain cells."
"Oh, that's nice of you," Brandon said.
"No, seriously," Arie said, wide-eyed innocence. "It's not a putdown or anything. I mean, obviously, she's still breathing and her heart's still beating, so something's in charge, but it's not a brain. Or else, she wouldn't be so... I dunno, out there."
"You know, actually," Brandon said. "That's a good point."
"See, told you," Arie beamed.
"Is Faith your partner," Gavin asked me. He and Erica were another Program pairing that ended up dating. They had gone just last week. I wondered, vaguely, how often they ended up sneaking off to get a room.
"No," I said.
"Well, I don't see any other naked juniors," Arie said.
"Who is your partner," Brandon asked.
"Bernard Castagne," I said.
"Old Geek-Breath," Arie said.
"Didn't the school, like, hire him to rebuild their website," Gavin said.
"Where is he," Brandon asked.
I shrugged. "He disappeared. One minute he was standing there, the next he was gone. I guess it's some kind of nerd thing. Remember that guy with the glasses in that game we were playing, who could turn himself invisible?..."
Brandon rolled his eyes. "Meredith, dearest, how many times do I have to tell you? Video games aren't real."
"Well, shoot," Gavin said immediately. "So that means touching flowers won't let me throw fireballs?"
"Don't make me dump you," Erica said, sticking her tongue out at him. "Isn't that Jeff?"
"That is indeed," Gavin agreed. "Catch y'all later."
"Faith Bennett," said Arie again, once they had gone. "Will wonders never cease."
Brandon put his arm around me: "I don't know, they seem to be working out well as it is." I leaned in next to him, remembering my earlier resolution to boil his blood in his veins.
Arie gave us a glance and then rolled her eyes in exasperation. Children. Brandon and I giggled and kissed again.
The crowd was finally starting to break up around Derek and Faith, probably due to Jeff Gainesborough's Program partner, who was a certified babe. Though she had the misfortune of being named Evergreen. Evergreen Forrest. We really wonder what her parents were thinking. In any case, Derek finally emerged from the chaos, Faith trailing behind him, most likely because he was holding her hand.
Brandon and I traded glances. Arie wouldn't like that.
"Hi guys," said Derek.
"Ahem," said Arie.
"What," said Derek.
"Ahem, " said Arie, this time glancing conspicuously at Derek's hand.
Derek looked down, seeming to notice for the first time that he was holding Faith's hand. He let it drop.
"Thank you," said Arie. Derek rolled his eyes.
"All right," Brandon said, "I think we got off on the wrong foot there. Derek, start over."
"Hi guys," Derek said obediently.
"Hey hon," Arie said pleasantly. "Where'd your clothes go?"
"I'm in The Program now," Derek said. "Dr. Zelvetti has 'em."
"And who might this fine specimen of girlhood be," Brandon asked brightly, giving a significant glance at Faith.
"I have no idea," Derek deadpanned. "But this, is my Program partner, Faith Bennett. Everybody say hello."
"Hello," we chorused obediently.
Faith turned. She had been staring at the sky. "Oh, hello," she said.
"How are you, Faith," I asked.
"Oh, I'm just fine," said Faith. "The sky makes me tingle."
We blinked at each other.
"What's so interesting about the sky anyway," Arie asked.
"It's different," said Faith, her eyes heavenward again.
"Why, is it orange?" Arie said.
"Noooo," said Faith, wide-eyed innocence. "It's tingly."
"Maybe it's because you have no clothes on," Derek suggested.
"Maybe," said Faith. "I think the sky is always tingly, but you can't feel it if you have clothes on."
She had something of a point. It's very different to stand outside with no clothes on. I was certainly feeling a tingle. Though, of course, that might have had more to do with how close Brandon was standing.
"I'm just glad it's not cloudy," I said. "Remember last week? I don't know how Gavin managed." He and Erica and Stasya and the entire crop had gotten rained on a couple of times. I'd spent the entire weekend checking Weather.com and praying fervently to the sun. So far it looked okay, but we hadn't even had our first Monday class yet.
"Rain tingles even more," Faith said. "It's like Bobby Crestmore."
The four of us traded glances again. Bobby Crestmore was a cute freshman, but I don't think any of us quite understood how he resembled or might be made to resemble rain.
There was no time to ask, though, because right about then, the bell rang, and we were due in class. Giving Brandon a single last kiss—pressing myself against him—feeling his arms around me, the beating of his heart, the quickening in his breath—I thought to myself, This is going to be a week to remember.
And it was. But not quite in the way I expected it would.
M .2
Being naked is a lot less simple than it seems.
Now, pretty obviously, this is one of those things you just have to live through to understand, so I hadn't the slightest idea what I was getting into when I signed up. It was mostly Arie's idea. —No, that's a lie, it's not like she signed me up, I signed up. But it was mostly Arie's idea. "Hey, Derek, wouldn't it be cool if you were in The Program?" "Why would it be cool, Arie?" "I dunno, it just... Would." This while we're lying in bed after some great sex. "Why don't you sign up?" And when you've just had great sex with your girlfriend, you'll agree to just about anything she says. And so there I was.
Now, this isn't to say Arie set me up or anything. I don't think she thought about the consequences either. It was just an idea she blithely tossed up and I just as blithely agreed to. Neither of us quite knew what we were getting into. Not in the slightest.
Hi, I'm Derek Strong, and I'm naked in school, and I think we should blame Arie. Not that it's really Arie's fault that I got set up with Faith Bennett. But, I mean, she's convenient to blame, right?
"This is all your fault," I told her over recess.
"What, what's my fault?" Arie asked, startled.
"This," I said, indicating myself.
Arie gave me a critical eye. "You look about the same as you did yesterday."
"He does," Sajel agreed. "But... Something's missing..." She put her finger on my arm. "I just can't put my finger on it..."
"Might it have something to do with the fact that I have no clothes on?" I said. Sajel managed a very effective double-take.
"Well, besides that," Arie said. "And besides, how could that be my fault?"
"Did you steal his clothes," Christa asked.
"Nooo," Arie said. "He's in The Program!"
"Well, that must be your fault then," Zach said. "Did you, like, dress up as him and sign him up in secret?"
"No!" Arie said indignantly. "Why would I do that?"
"Okay, Derek," Sajel said, turning to me. "Why's this her fault?"
I shrugged. "She's easy to blame."
"Hey!" Arie said.
"Oh, okay," Sajel said. "Arie, this is all your fault!"
"What!" said Arie.
"You heard me!" Sajel retorted. "And it's probably your fault that Mr. Cavanaugh gave us that pop quiz this morning too."
"And that Meredith's in The Program too," Zach said.
"And that Zach's cum tastes so bad," Christa said. "What exactly have you been feeding him lately!"
"Okay, yuck," Sajel said. "TMI. Minus fifty points."
Arie was staring at us, stricken.
"But it's okay," I declared magnanimously, striding forward and wrapping her in a hug. "We love you anyway."
"And I hate you!" Arie protested, but she hugged me back. Behind me, Zach and Sajel and Christa snickered.
"So, who's your partner then," Sajel asked me once Arie and I had untangled ourselves.
"Faith Bennett," Arie said.
"What!" said Zach, Sajel and Christa all at once.
I rolled my eyes. "Here we go again."
"And this loser—" said Arie, giving me a shove. "—was holding her hand."
"Faith Bennett," Christa said again.
"Yes, Faith Bennett," I said.
"Faith Bennett is your Program partner??" Zach said.
"Yesssss," I said.
"And he was holding her hand!" Arie said.
"You were holding Faith's hand," Sajel asked me.
I tossed my hands. "Is this going to continue? Seriously. How many times can you say one name?"
"Arie, there's nothing wrong with that," Christa said. "Faith is... She's like a kindergartener. You hold her hand when you cross the street because it's not safe otherwise."
"But Faith isn't five years old," Arie maintained stubbornly.
"Mentally she is," Christa said.
"She can't be," Arie said. "She doesn't have a brain."
"So now she needs even more help," I said. "Why, what should we do, let her get run over?"
"Darwin would approve," Arie said brightly.
"Arie, that's very cruel," Christa said. "That's very cruel. You shouldn't even joke about that. Faith is no different than you."
"I have a brain!" Arie protested.
"Yes, and so does she," Christa said patiently. "But with both of you, there are... Conditions. Factors. Things that make it hard for you to act and survive normally."
Arie said nothing, her face blank.
Zach pitched in. "How would you like it if we said, 'Oh, something's wrong with Arie, so we should just leave her to get killed by that wrong thing.' How would you feel?"
Arie's face softened, wrinkled, as if she had bit into something sour.
"So don't say that about Faith," Christa said.
"All right," said Arie softly. She gave a mock sniffle. "Any more of this and I might start thinking nobody likes me."
"Now, now, that's not true," I said, smiling. "I like you."
"Yeah right," Arie sulked.
"I do," I said.
"Prove it," Arie said, and her face was about three inches from mine, so I did what any intelligent boyfriend would do. I turned her to face me and drew her to me and kissed her, soft and tantalizing, as much promise as I could offer. Behind me the others cheered and whooped.
Arie, with a speculative look, said, "Hmm, not quite enticing enough. Again."
"Pfft," Sajel said. "And here we have further proof of Arie's stupidity, when she receives the hottest kiss in the history of mankind, and still says—" And then her voice was lost to me in the touch of Arie's lips, the sound and smell of her breath, her arms around my neck, her body pressing to me, her hair tangling in my fingers as my hand went to her cheek.
When we came apart again, there was need in her eyes.
"Dude," Zach said judiciously. "Kisses like that mean only one thing."
"What?" Christa asked.
"Get a room, you guys!" said Zach.
"Oh for fuck's sake," Sajel grumbled. "Zach, don't say that."
"Why shouldn't he say that," Christa asked, confused.
Arie's mouth was open, her nose almost brushing mine. I could see the question on her face; I knew she could see the answer on mine. Or perhaps simply feel it, down below, prodding at the material of her jeans.
"Because whenever he does," Sajel retorted, "they do. It's like a curse or— See, there they go." Her voice fading as our feet pounded the pavement. "Where do you think you're gonna find some privacy!"
I made to turn left, to head for the bathrooms, but Arie drew me in the other direction, deeper into Stetsen. "I have a better idea."
"Derek," said Mr. Trineer, opening the door to his classroom at our knocking. "Arie. What can I do for you?"
Arie opened her mouth to answer—and it was as if something got stuck. "Well— Uhm—"
Mr. Trineer took in the flush of her cheeks and my obvious state of arousal. "It looks to me as if someone is in need of relief."
"Yes, you could say that..." I said.
"Two someones, actually," Mr. Trineer corrected himself, "despite one not being in The Program any longer."
"That— That could be true," Arie allowed.
"And you were looking for a place to... Shall we say... Attend each other's needs, I suppose?" Now there was a smile on his face, amused and hinting.
"Yes, that sounds about right," Arie said.
"Well, just remember, the bell rings in twelve minutes," said Mr. Trineer, and he locked the door and stepped out. We were alone in the room.
"Arie," I said, "you're brilliant!" Mr. Trineer was The Program's biggest sponsor before it was officially adopted here, and remains one of its foremost champions. And even if not, I doubt he would have turned us down.
"No," said Arie, "I'm not." She fixed me with a direct stare. "I'm horny."
"Well, all right, that too," I said, "but imagine if you hadn't been brilliant. You'd still be horny at the end of recess. And you can't ask for relief like I can."
"Look, I'm not brilliant, I'm horny," said Arie.
I sighed. "All right, all right, be modest if you want."
"I'm not being modest," Arie said, beaming. "I am brilliant." Then she moved forward, a hunter stalking her prey. "But right now there's something else I am, even more than I'm brilliant. And I kind of need you to help me." She punctuated this by grabbing hold of my dick. "Does that make sense to you?"
I looked around for a coupling spot, and didn't find any—the room was dominated by the three long trestle tables at which students sat, and the rows of seats to service them. But Arie had better ideas. She sauntered over to the head of the middle table, casually undoing her pants. By the time she had arrived, her jeans were in a pool around her ankles, and the curves of her ass were showcased by white cotton panties as she bent over to present them. I could see the beginnings of a wet spot at the crotch of those panties.
She looked over her shoulder and smiled at me.
I gulped.
She giggled. "You like what you see?"
"Uh-huh," I said, gaping like a monkey. "I think you forgot something though."
"What?" she asked in feigned astonishment. "What'd I miss!" And so what's a guy to do, but reach out and tug her panties down?
"Oh-h..." said Arie. "Silly me.
I kissed both buttocks as I passed them, following her panties down, and then that most secret of places, deep pink and already wet with her juices. Arie moaned and pressed back to meet me. I traversed my way up one fleshy lip and then down the other—hairless now, as they had been for some time—and then, at the bottom, the little pearl bud that was the center of her pleasure, the reason we all lived. I gave it a lick with my tongue, and she shuddered, and a fresh wave of her juices broke forth.
"Derek," Arie moaned, "Now... Put it in me now..."
Gone were the days of underconfidence. Arie had trained me well—and besides, six months of with a nymphomanic girlfriend will do that to you. She was ready; I knew her well enough to tell that. There were no pants to take care of; just line up and dive in.
And then everything felt really good.
"Wow," Arie whispered. We stood there for a moment, savoring. "You've never gone this deep before."
"I guess we're horny," I replied. Every slight movement made my cock twitch inside her pussy, her pussy shift around my cock, and we had rushed into it a little too much. It was like I could feel everything down there: her pussy caressing the rim of the head of my cock, the ring of muscle around her entrance, her pussy lips clasping me on either side, even the faint bud of her clit, brushing against my balls. There was no way we could remain motionless for long. It was like hanging at the top of a rollercoaster, that quivering moment of equilibrium right before the drop.
"I'm glad I thought of a place," Arie said. She turned her head again to look at me over her shoulder. "I would've gone insane otherwise."
"Well," I said, "you could've just torn my clothes off and boinked me right there at Stetsen."
Her eyes went wide and her face flushed, and I wondered if I had hit a nerve. "I would not have," she said primly. As primly as she could manage while stuffed full of cock.
"Oh really," I said, smiling. The idea had never crossed my mind until now, but I must admit, it had a certain... Appeal.
"I couldn't have," said Arie, wide-eyed propriety. "You weren't wearing clothes."
"Pfft," I said. I reached forward to her breasts, dangling but constricted by her white spaghetti-strap tank top, not to mention bra. "You're still wearing clothes, for that matter." I felt her nipples hard even through the layers of cloth, and squeezed them between my fingers. "Maybe we should do something about that."
She moaned again, her body twisting (her pussy shifting—tingle tingle tingle); and then, recovering, said, "Now now, we'll have none of that." She reached between her legs, grabbed my balls, and gave them a tug. Involuntarily, I pulled back. And then we had other much more pleasant things to think about.
"I think it's time to stop talking," Arie said, and pushed back against me to take me back into her.
My hands left her boobs and moved to her ass, holding the corners of her hips, bringing us apart, and then together. We did a lot of, actually—sneaking away during school hours to fuck, since we don't have the sort of privacy or access Brandon and Meredith have—and doggy-style is uniquely suited to sex on the fly. Her breasts dangling down into my hands, full and perfect (regardless of what Arie herself might think), her small brown nipples burrowing into my palms, were hardly new to me, and I had grown very fond of seeing her rounded ass cheeks moving back and forth above my cock, her pussy lips around my cock as I moved in and out of her, her hips pivoting back and forth as she swung from side to side, bringing my cock into contact with new places in her pussy. Her fingertips brushed my balls—she was playing with her clit, pacing herself furiously onward. For a moment I could only marvel at the sheer impossible luck that had dropped her into my hands, this beautiful girl. Then I drove in again, and she bucked to meet me, and it was business as usual.
What was new were the sounds. Arie was being very vocal today, something different for her. (I gave a glance at the open windows before deciding that I didn't care if she didn't.) The gasps, the moans, the sighs, the slight, high-pitched squeaking as I moved inside her. I wasn't used to it at all, and it turned me on immensely.
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