Chapter 1: Monday At School

Susan

I guess it all began on that Monday morning in October. I was a senior, and my love(?) of junior year, Jeff Fuller, had graduated in June. The fact was that we had split just after his graduation. Not that it was ever much of a break-up; all he had ever done was fondle my tits a bit. But what the hell ... I was going to enjoy my senior year, and Jeff was 3,000 miles away at USC. Why there? His parents were both USC alums, and I guess that was all it took. So I've been playing the field.

Some field! It's been very strange. Jeff was a football player and a nice guy. Sort of shy, but a really sweet guy. When we broke up, I was immediately back in circulation. But that was sort of a problem. The only guys who ever asked me out were jocks. They were all nice enough for the most part, but they had the sensitivity of clams.

Yuck!

Furthermore, I quickly learned that Jeff — who was far from being the brightest bulb on the tree — was Mensa material compared to the rest. Beyond that, their technique where it came to lovemaking harked back to the Pleistocene era! I mean ... Yuck.

Double yuck!

Oh, yeah. Someone said that I should tell you a bit about myself. I'm five feet seven with golden blonde hair and very blue eyes. My parents are ... Well, Mom is Katherine Stark a/k/a Kathy Smith. She was formerly the assistant district attorney for Norfolk County and was credited with cutting violent crime in the city/county by more than 50 percent in a single year. Along the way, she took out three felons herself: four bullets in the heart and one in the brain. All shots were lethal.

Then, much more recently, she took out two more. Two hoodlums picked the wrong C-store to rob. Mom happened to be in there buying milk and munchies when the clowns decided it was a good place to pick up some spending money. Bad choice! The idiots might have gotten away with it had one not decided that the clerk was too slow emptying the cash register, so he shot her. They quickly learned that the beautiful blonde customer was lethal. Unfortunately for them, "learning" took the form of four 38-caliber hollow points in what had previously passed for their brains.

Oh, yeah ... Mom and I are really sort of twins. We're the same height — five feet seven — and have the same golden-blonde hair and bright blue eyes. And we're both pretty athletic, as our innumerable personal competitions have proven. I haven't beaten her yet, but I constantly point out that the legs go first and she's definitely aging. Would you believe it? We were out to dinner a few nights ago with Dad and she wasn't even carded! Of course, she was really dolled up that night, so I'm not sure that should count.

Actually, Mom is a big help to me. I would be unhappy with my own appearance if I didn't look so much like her. Maybe it's all the swimming I do, but I'm not sure. Anyway, I think my tits are really small. They're not, actually — sort of a generous B — but with my height and broad shoulders I really think I'm sort of flat-chested. I said that to Mom one time. All she did was to take me to the wall mirror in her bathroom and had me stand beside her. Since we were at our apartment, as usual, both of us were naked.

She pointed out that my tits were already a tiny bit larger than her own, and she was drop-dead gorgeous. So much for feeling sorry for myself.

Then there's my dad. As far as I'm concerned, he's the greatest dad alive. Can you believe it? I was 16 years old when I saw him for the first time. I grew up in a whorehouse, but ran away just before I turned 16. Mom represented me in court and then adopted me while Dad was steaming around in circles in the Mediterranean. He's a commander in the Navy, and was just deep-dipped for captain. He's commanding officer of USS Evans, an Atlantic-fleet destroyer. Oh, yes ... He also holds the Medal of Honor and the Purple Heart. And it was awarded by the President himself at our prom last spring! Can you believe it? And the President even had the Marine Band from the Marine Barracks in Washington playing for us. How neat can it get?

Then there are my grandparents. The only ones I have are my father's. Mom's background is the same as mine: she came out of a whorehouse at age 18. Because of that, she had been a working prossie taking up to thirty guys a day. It was months after my adoption that I learned from my grandmother, Betty Stark, that Mom had refused to marry Dad for months because "he's already been married to one prostitute; he doesn't need another." (Dad had been in a bigamous marriage with Sylvia Black when Mom met him; Sylvia was also the owner of the house where I worked and my legal guardian at the time.) Granddad pointed out to her that she hadn't slept with a man in the entire time between leaving the whorehouse and meeting Dad about seven years later.

Granddad is Samuel Stark, Admiral, U.S. Navy. Yep, that's a full four stars. And Grandmom Betty is a piece of work! She's Dad's mother but she doesn't look nearly old enough to be my mother, let alone Dad's. She is beautiful, slender and drop-dead gorgeous! Isn't that a helluva thing to say about your grandmother, for heaven's sake? But she is. And, if you can believe it, Granddad fucks her brains out at least twice a day, every day! She calls it her protein injections and claims to need them to keep going. I've mentioned my mother not looking her age. If it weren't for her gray hair, Grandmom couldn't get a drink, either, without being carded. She claims she doesn't want to color her hair because the gray saves her a lot of hassles.

That's my family.

We live in a pretty palatial apartment in Virginia Beach, and as this story opens I'm driving to Virginia Beach High School where I'm a senior. I have this neat little pocket rocket called a Mazda GTX. Although it looks like an econobox, it's got all-wheel drive, a turbocharged engine, and 4-wheel disc brakes. I just love it to death!

A final note: we had an assembly late last week to introduce a new program at the high school. It's called Naked in School. Students would be selected — initially from the two upper grades — and paired off, a boy and a girl. They would be required to be naked, except for shoes and socks, at all times in school. Moreover, this extended to any school function: a concert, an athletic event, whatever. Finally, they were required to grant any "reasonable request" another student might make, and might be called upon to assist any teacher in his or her teaching. I really wondered what that might be; the term had not been defined. At any rate, the program was scheduled to start that morning.

I no sooner entered the school when I heard, "Susan Stark, please report to the office. Susan Stark to the office, please."

Hmm...

Jake

I'm Jake Collins. Actually, my name is John James Collins, Jr., but I'm called Jake by everyone who knows me. My father is known as Jack and the two names sound alike sometimes, but what the hell ... My mother is Jean, and I have a brat sister, Jill. (As you can see, our family seems to have a thing with the letter J.) She's almost three years younger than I, but only two grades behind me in school. That's a result of the way our two birthdays fall.

Oh, yeah ... I'm a Navy brat. I can't count the number of different places we've lived, but it seems like we're always moving. Dad's a Navy captain, and was given command of Carrier Air Group Six aboard USS Independence. So, to Norfolk we came and the folks found a new house in Virginia Beach.

What a bitch! I was just about to go into my senior year in high school, and we move, for chrissakes. Oh, well... C'est la guerre. (That's French, you know. It means "It's the war" ... and is about the only French I learned in three years, too.)

Oh, yeah ... I guess I should tell you something about myself. On second thought, I'll skip that for now.

I ride a school bus to school. Can you believe it? A senior riding the bus? But it's true. The problem is that we only have two cars, and Virginia Beach is huge. Dad needs one to get to the base, and Mom has to have one, too. (Although CAG-6 is assigned to Independence, since it's in port, the air wing is ashore at NAS Oceania.) Regardless of what you might want, it's going to be at least four miles away from where we live. The fact of the matter is we live in the boonies, and, given that Virginia Beach might be the largest city in the nation in terms of area, it's got lots of boonies. And since I'm so new at the school, I haven't met anyone yet who could give me a ride. So the school bus. Yuck!

Then there was that assembly last week about Naked in School. As the bus bounced along, I wondered about it.

Oh, well ... I would just look for the first guinea pigs and laugh.

As I entered the school, I heard the PA system squawking. There was some name I didn't catch ordered to report to the office. Then my heart sank below my stomach as I heard, "John Collins, please report to the office. John Collins to the office, please."

Oh, shit!

Susan

I went to the office and was greeted by one of the secretaries. She had a rather strange but unfathomable look on her face as she said, "Mr. Whitaker wants to see you right away. Go right in."

As I entered his office, Mr. Whitaker, the principal, rose from his chair and came around the desk to greet me. He seemed strangely courteous and considerate as he asked me to take a seat.

"Susan," he began, "you've been selected to be one of the first participants in our Naked in School program."

I started to protest, but he held up his hand palm outward and I kept my mouth shut.

He continued, "We've looked at similar programs elsewhere. Some are working quite well while others are working very badly. Miss Adams, your biology teacher, is the program coordinator here. She did a lot of research on the subject and thinks she's come up with an answer. While it's certainly not conclusive, it appears that the success or failure of the program depends on who the first few student participants are. When they're very good-looking and popular, the program seems to work. Where they're not, it doesn't.

"Now it's our intention to sooner or later get everyone into it, but the wimps and the less-attractive ones will come later.

"Miss Adams thought that you would be the ideal first student. You're beautiful, liked by everyone, a school leader, captain of the soccer team, and MVP of the state soccer tournament. Furthermore, everyone knows of your family's accomplishments: your father's Medal of Honor, your mother's Medal of Freedom, and your grandfather being a full admiral."

He grinned and continued, "In this school, particularly, that counts for something. About 70 percent of the students' fathers are in the armed forces, so having a grandfather who's wearing four stars — and a father with eagles on his collar now, I hear — can't hurt.

"Susan, will you do it?"

Before I could answer, there was a knock on the door and a guy joined us.

Jake

I entered Whitaker's office and almost died! Who should be sitting across from him but Susan Stark, the most desirable girl in the school, if not in the whole world. I certainly didn't know her, but I knew a lot about her. She is all class.

I didn't know what it was all about, but if it involved Susan, it couldn't be all bad.

Whitaker asked me to sit, gave me the pitch on the program, and then asked if I would be willing to be in the first group. He added that parents of students could opt their children out of the program normally, but due to the very fast start, that option had not been offered to us. Therefore — and uniquely — the option was given to us rather than to our parents.

"Mr. Whitaker," I protested, "I can see why Susan is here..."

Then I rose from my chair, extended a hand to her and said, "You're Susan Stark, the most beautiful girl in the world. I'm Jake Collins, and I'm delighted to meet you."

Surprisingly, she rose from her chair, extended her hand and shook. Just the touch of her hand was wonderful, and then she gripped my hand firmly. I was surprised. It certainly wasn't like any handshake I had ever had with a girl. Then I remembered that she was a really great athlete.

She sat down in her chair again, as did I. Then I continued, repeating myself, "I can see why Susan is here, but why me? I'm an unknown in this school."

"Not completely, Jake," Whitaker replied. "You may not be well known to the students, but you soon will be."

Then to Susan he said, "You know, Jake's school record is amazing. It has all the normal stuff, but it also has a bunch of press clippings from California papers. It seems that he was All-State in California in football as a running back and receiver. He's apparently both very fast and very powerful.

Then to me he said, "Jake, we're putting you in this week for two reasons. First, it will help you to become better known, quickly. And frankly, transferring in as a senior, I think it's important to you, too. Second, there's no football game this week — it's the only open week on our schedule — and we haven't fully worked out how — or even if — a football player could participate in the program during the season.

"The rules of Naked in School allow the use of protective gear, but quite honestly we're not at all sure that a player could wear all the protective gear without being fully uniformed. But anyway, with an open date this week, that's not a problem."

Then to Susan he said, "I don't know if you've been paying much attention, but you're taking four AP courses and Jake is in all of them. There's a rumor around school that you're tired of dating guys who aren't much smarter than rocks. Is that true?"

Susan giggled — what an utterly charming sound — and nodded her head just once.

Whitaker continued, "Okay, Susan, I asked you to join the program just as Jake arrived. Since I asked you first, what's your answer?"

Susan

That caused me to swallow hard. Thank God Jake had come in when he did. It had given me a little time to think.

It was funny. Being naked in school — or anywhere else, for that matter — didn't bother me one damned bit. As I said earlier, I had grown up in a whorehouse where being naked was an occupational requirement. And, although I still had my vaginal virginity, I had been fucked in the ass more times than I cared to think about, let alone count. Furthermore, at the apartment all of us are naked far more often than we're dressed. I really like it that way.

I remember last New Year's when I had let Jeff fondle my tits. I certainly didn't mind, but I remembered being scared that he would see that my tits were as tanned as the rest of me. And I'm a golden blonde who really tans. Then there was the fact that, while I still had a little patch of pubic hair above my slit, that was all. I'm not very hairy to start with — although my pubic patch is really quite dense — and I had plucked all the other hairs in my groin. I couldn't take it all off, even if I had wanted to — and I really didn't — because Dad had threatened to take off my head so there would be a way to tell me apart from Mom. As I said before, we're identical twins, only about ten years apart in age.

Oh, well...

"Mr. Whitaker, I know we can wear our shoes and socks. Do we have to?"

Whitaker blinked. Then he stammered, "Uh ... no ... No," he finally said firmly. "Why do you ask, Susan?"

"If I'm going to be bare, I might want to be completely bare. I just wanted to check on the rules."

"That one is strictly your own choice, Susan," he replied firmly. After a pause he continued, "Well? What about it?"

"I'll do it, Mr. Whitaker," I said. Then after a pause I added, "Provided Jake joins me."

Jake

The ball was in my court, to coin a phrase.

"Since I'm going to have to do this sometime, anyway," I replied, "I couldn't possibly have a better partner than Susan. Yes, sir, I'll do it."

"Before we move on — and thank you, Jake, and you, Susan — do you have any further questions?"

I looked at Susan who just shook her head. So I said, "I do have one, sir. It's about the partner bit. What are we supposed to do? How does the partner thing work?"

"Very good question," he replied. "This whole thing may be somewhat traumatic, so a partner is supposed to provide support and assistance in whatever form that might take." Then he smiled and added, "For example, Susan has a very important soccer game on Wednesday afternoon after school, while — due to the bye week — you don't even have practice this week. Since the soccer match is after school, we can't require you to attend. But it would be very nice if you did. And if you do, since it's a school function, you'll have to be naked. Of course, Susan will be playing naked, too."

At that, Susan blushed and swallowed hard.

Then he reached into his desk, took out two folders and gave one to each of us. "These are the complete set of rules for Naked in School. Since you're starting right away, you'll probably want to read them very soon."

Then Whitaker said, "Well, I guess we're all set." He took two boxes from beneath his desk and put them on top. "These are for your clothing. We'll keep them safe here in the office, and they will be at the main entrance when school's out for the day. Good luck!

"Now, Susan, girls first. How about it?"

Susan

Oh, shit! Here it was. Me and my big mouth.

I didn't want it to look like I was doing a strip show, so I quickly took off my top and my jeans after kicking off my loafers. I wasn't wearing a bra — my shirt had a pair of strategically-located pockets — and then slipped my bikini over my nothing hips. Then — finally — I looked at Jake.

His eyes were wide and he couldn't control a soft whistle. God, that sounded good.

"I'm sorry, Jake, that there's nothing on top," I said softly as I dropped my arms to my sides. By then I was completely naked having kicked off my socks, too.

He started to laugh, the bum! And even Mr. Whitaker was trying to muffle a chuckle in his hand. Good grief!

"Nothing on top?" Jake said, laughing again. "Girl, you are utterly perfect!" Then turning to Whitaker he asked, "What do you think, sir?"

"Susan, you are the most perfectly-formed female human it has ever been my good fortune to see. And that most particularly includes all the Playboy centerfolds, too."

I raised an eyebrow, and he looked at me with the most innocent look on his face he could muster. "Well ... I mean ... We do confiscate inappropriate material here at school from time to time, and we really do have to check to ensure that it is, in fact, inappropriate. So..."

Turning to Jake, I glared — or as close an approximation of a glare I was capable of at the time — and said, "Okay, buster. It's your turn."

Jake did exactly the same thing I had done. When he had stripped completely — although he did put his shoes back on — he turned toward me. His shoulders were back, and he was standing up straight.

Oh ... my ... God!

He was utterly incredible! And, keeping in mind that I had worked for years in a whorehouse, his cock was the largest I had ever seen. In fact, it might even have been bigger than Dad's, and even with Mom's experience, when he enters her it's like he's putting on a very tight-fitting glove. And Jake might have been even bigger!

Beyond that, though, I realized he was a total, certified hunk! He had sharply defined muscles all over. And, I realized, he had the warmest blue eyes I've ever seen along with hair only slightly darker than my own worn in a semi crewcut.

This whole thing might yet turn out to be fun.

As we were leaving, Whitaker added, "Two things for immediate reference: First, you're both required to cooperate with any student's reasonable request. This includes, for example, posing for pictures in poses they direct, allowing them to fondle your bodies, and so forth. They have up to five minutes. Second, in each class you may have up to five minutes at the beginning of class to get relief. In this, you may request assistance from your classmates, but their assistance is purely voluntary. If no one volunteers, you're on your own."

He smiled and added, "Good luck!"

With that I opened the door and led the way out to the hallway.

Jake

When we went out to the hall, we still had about ten minutes before 1^st period class. And the jackals had gathered. I was in the lead, and the first person I saw was Marty Harris. Marty is sort of our high school's resident slut, but that's really unfair. Although I didn't know her, almost everyone else in school did. Apparently she just loved sex and didn't care who knew it, or who she might do it with. Want a one-night stand? Call Marty.

"I do not believe this!" she nearly screamed. "Never in my life..." With that she came over to me and said, "Up against the wall, stud."

Of course I hadn't had a chance to read the rules of Naked in School, but Whitaker had emphasized that no reasonable request could be refused. And I had to admit that standing with my back against the (cold) wall was reasonable. So I did. Somewhat to my surprise, Susan came with me and stood there beside me. Not only was she standing beside me, though, she was holding my hand, and God, did it feel good. Her hand was just so warm and comforting in mine. After just a few moments we were holding hands almost at arm's length, though; Marty needed room to work.

As I said, I didn't really know her, but I knew of her. What I hadn't realized was how small a girl she really was. Susan towered over her by about five inches. (Later I learned that it was a bit more than that; Susan is five feet seven and a bit, while Marty isn't quite five feet two.) And we won't talk about me. I'm six feet three and a skosh, so I really towered over her. The result is that my cock was in her chest, and that was just fine as far as she was concerned.

I really don't know how to describe what she was doing. I suppose she was harassing me, but really, she wasn't. Instead, she was using her soft, tiny hands on my cock, and it responded. God, did it ever! Her touch was so cool and so light. This girl certainly knew how to handle a guy's jewels.

"I can't believe it!" she murmured just loud enough for her friends to hear. "I can't come close to getting a hand around it. In fact, I only just make it with two. Good grief! This guy is utterly perfect!" Then she looked up — way up! — into my eyes and murmured, "You're going to split me in half with this thing, and I really can't wait! I've seen some big cocks in my time, but you're the biggest, by far."

Then I had to howl with laughter! She took her right hand from around my now-throbbing cock, held it out and said, "Hi! I'm Martha Harris, but everyone calls me Marty." She paused and added, "You can call me anything you want, but please call me." Then she grinned and added, "But you don't even have to bother. Just yell out, 'Hey, Marty!' I'll come running."

Again she paused and slowly shook her head. "Not only do you have the largest cock I've ever seen, it's the most beautiful one, too. Just utterly gorgeous.

"By the way ... Who are you?"

Susan and I both exploded in laughter. We just couldn't help ourselves. The whole affair should have been embarrassing, but it really wasn't.

The word of what Marty had said quickly spread among the other students, and we could track the message by the explosions of laughter.

"I'm Jake Collins," I replied, "and my cock and I are very happy to meet you, Marty."

Marty just sighed while Susan gripped my hand.

"Jake," Susan said, "we have 1^st period biology, and it's a long walk. We'd better get moving."

With the greatest reluctance Marty let go. She had been holding my cock with her left hand for the whole time. But off we went.

When we finally got out of earshot of the crowd, Susan asked softly, "How was it Jake? Was it terrible?"

"It was very nice, really. That girl has the softest touch imaginable. I could easily see someone grabbing and pulling, but that's not what she did at all. She was so good! But..."

"But what?"

"I'm so damned keyed up, I think I'm going to shoot!"

"Don't forget to ask for relief, then," she retorted as we arrived at the biology lab.

Susan

I was ahead of Jake as we entered the classroom ... And I almost dropped my teeth! There was Miss Adams, the biology teacher, bare-ass naked! And like me, she had gone all the way. She wasn't even wearing shoes.

"Thank God you two are finally here!" she whispered to us. Then in her normal voice she said, "Why don't you two sit together since you're partners. There are two seats over there," she added, pointing toward the rear.

Before we could move, though, she added, "Do either of you need relief? Jake, you certainly look hot and bothered."

"I am, Miss Adams, and I would like relief," Jake replied.

The three of us were still standing just inside the doorway. There was just enough room behind us for Miss Adams to close the door. Then, raising her voice to address the whole class, she said, "Jake Collins has requested relief. Would any of you people volunteer to help him?"

For almost everyone in the class it was their first good look at Jake. Moreover, the Naked in School program had just started, so I really don't know how many kids even knew what "relief" was. As a result, initially only a couple of hands were raised. But I said, "I'll volunteer, Miss Adams."

"Jake," she said, "it's your call. Who would you like?"

"I'll take Susan!" he enthusiastically replied.

Oh, boy! Talk about opening your big mouth! First of all, it was biology, and we were just starting on human anatomy. Adams had two chairs in the front of the room just ahead of the lab tables. But, instead of facing the class, the chairs were sitting facing each other. The whole class would be getting a side view of all the action. Oh, well...

"Why don't you sit here, Jake," Miss Adams said, "and, Susan, you face him like this."

As I had suspected, the class was going to get a side view. Jake was facing the window and my back would be toward it.

Jake sat in the chair and then looked at Miss Adams, at a loss regarding what to do next.

"Susan," she said, "go to it."

I had been thinking of giving him a hand job, but then I thought of all the guys I had taken in my mouth in the whorehouse. So instead, I dropped to my knees in front of him and took his raging erection in my hand. You know what? Marty was absolutely right. Jake's cock was gorgeous. He was circumcised, and his lovely pink head was just staring at me.

I didn't waste any more time. There was only five minutes, according to Whitaker. I took the head in my mouth, relaxed my throat and let it slide down. In just a moment, I could feel my nose in his pubic hair. And at the same time, I heard a collective gasp from my classmates who had seen the whole thing. Although it had been a year and a half since I left the house, I remembered and used my throat muscles to rhythmically squeeze the giant cock I had swallowed.

Then I looked up finally and would have howled with laughter had I not had the mother of all gags in my mouth. Jake's mouth was agape, and he looked so funny! He motioned, but I ignored the hint.

Finally, he whispered, "Sue, I'm going to cum! Look out!"

I just blinked my eyes and nodded as much as I could, but that really wasn't much. I felt his first blast in my throat, then a second and a third. Since he was so deep, there was no swallowing required; his cum just shot right down to my belly. Then there was a fourth and a fifth, but the intervals were lengthening. So I eased his cock out of my throat which served two purposes. First, I was now able to breathe. That's always a good thing to do. But second, I was able to taste his cum on his next — and final — two shots. Yum! Salty but sweet. I loved it.

I hadn't been paying much attention, but then I realized Jake had been screaming. When I finally took his cock from my mouth, he collapsed on my back. Hmm ... I wondered if I had overdone it. The poor guy was gasping for breath. And hell, I was the one who had that telephone pole down my throat; he had just been sitting there.

"Need a hand?" I asked softly.

All Jake could do was nod.

I helped him out of his chair and the poor guy staggered toward his seat with me supporting him as we went.

Chrissy Sanders, the catty bitch, exclaimed as we passed, "Good grief, Susan! What did you just do?"

"Are you a complete retard, Chrissy?" I replied acidly. "I gave Jake a blowjob. What the hell did you think I did?"

She blushed as red as a beet while the rest of the class howled with laughter. If you get the impression that Chrissy was not one of my favorite people, you would be right. And clearly, I wasn't the only one who felt that way.

By the time Jake and I were seated, order had been restored. I looked at Miss Adams who was standing in front of the class. Suddenly, I had a new thought: Miss Adams was beautiful! I thought about it and realized why that fact came as such a discovery. I had known her since she started at the school the year before. But, unlike many of the other teachers, she always dressed very professionally. Moreover, since she taught biology — ours was the advanced class, by the way — more often than not she was wearing a white lab coat.