Chapter 5: Thursday

Alex — Second Period

I was pretty hung over through most of my Lit class but Mr. Wilson took pity on me and let me vegetate through the rest of Measure for Measure. Alcohol = bad; lesson learned. My hang over had faded to a mild headache by the time I got to Home Economics.

It was not my idea to take Home Ec. But my Dom hated cooking, so he told me to take it and that I'd damn well better pass with flying colors. Actually, truth be known, I was a pretty damn good cook. Especially with fish; then again, we owned a fishery so I'd had lots of opportunity to practice over the years. The trip to Asia last summer got me really interested in Vietnamese and Thai stuff but our class stuck to mainly baking chicken and making edible lima beans. I was, of course, the only guy in the class but that had worked out pretty well last year so I didn't mind at all.

Gail was in that class with me, and Tuesday she just watched while one of the cheerleaders blew me. It was not as cool as I'd hoped and I was still a little off about it; something about all those bodily fluids around cooking utensils — it seemed unsanitary. I didn't mind the sharp, hot, poking, dangerous things — I liked the sharp, hot, poking, dangerous things — it was the whole food thing I didn't get. I was kind of boring that way, I guess. I'd do any thing with anybody any where on the body but not with food. That whole lick-the-syrup-off-her-body thing turned my stomach. Go figure. Anyway, 'relief' while cooking was the one I was going to pass on except that by the time I got there, I was dripping. Somebody who saw me and Leigh on Monday thought a spanking in the hallway would be a neat idea. Or something — I didn't know; I hadn't really paid attention to the excuse, I just let her spank me. She didn't do it very hard but it was enough to turn my butt cheeks red; by the time I got to class, I was ready for action.

I was a bit surprised when I arrived in class though. The room had been slightly re-arraigned. All of the small counters we used in 3-person teams had been pushed together to form one large counter top and a second table had been wheeled in. It was covered with a large sheet but you could see all the "secret" ingredients in vague shapes underneath. Very Iron Chief. Mrs. Clark used to do a local cable access cooking show so she liked doing the occasional dramatic presentation for no good reason. She was old as dirt but I had never met anyone who would turn down one of her meals.

Finally, the bell rang and Mrs. Clark started class. "Alex, Gail? Would you both come up front please? Now, I'm not going to allow you relief today — sorry, Alex but you'll be ok, I promise. Instead, we're going to do something a bit different. Sit here please." She indicated the top of the counter. I lifted Gail, who blushed slightly, and then hopped up next to her — which I shouldn't have done because it made my head throb again. "Today's class discussion is on Erotic Foods." Mrs. Clark pulled away the sheet and revealed a table full of samples. Everything phallic shaped — bananas, carrots, cucumbers, etc. — plus strawberries, cherries, oysters, chocolate, honey, whipped cream, and anything else sticky, wet or spread-able.

"Today we're going to discuss food and sexual safety in handling these things and I'll let you try out a few on our participants. You don't mind insertion, do you? That's reasonable for both of you?" She didn't give either of us a moment to answer but started with her lecture. She started with what you can't do — like no oily or sugary things in the pussy or anus and what should be thrown away not eaten afterwards.

She held up the strawberries so they looked like little tits and the ass-shaped peaches. Then she displayed some raw oysters next to Gail's pussy and I realized that they did look really similar. "No wonder I like 'em raw." I said. Most of the girls laughed but a couple looked thoughtful.

Then Mrs. Clark started with the dick shaped stuff. I looked pretty bad next to the summer sausage she held up but it seemed everyone knew it was a joke. They put a condom on a cucumber and Gail didn't seem to mind as they tried to insert it in her pussy. I nearly blew; in part watching it go part way in her but mostly wishing it was going in me. They had better luck with the condom covered zucchini. Watching Gail cum with that thing in her made me shake.

"Now, boys can take insertions as well, and if you know him well and he's comfortable, the slimmer things work better — hand me that carrot, oh, yes that one's perfect. Again, use a condom — especially if this is for tonight's dinner. But really, anything in the rear should just be thrown away and you certainly shouldn't — bend over Alex Dear — you certainly shouldn't use anything anally then vaginally but of course you all know that, I'm sure." The carrot rammed into my rectum like she forgot what she was doing — and she did forget any kind of lube — and I swore as it hit that magic spot with no warning. I held my breath and tried not to cum. There was no reason not to except that I didn't want to interrupt Mrs. Clark's presentation.

Finally, she put on a pair of latex gloves and picked up the jar of honey. "Now this is fairly easy; you can pour or paint or draw. I like to just use my fingers and draw a light coating, just like this but you could get a nice scoop — see? — and just drizzle like this. Or — hand me that pastry brush — you can use both the honey and the brush to tease your partner — a very effective method, as you can see — and the brush handle can also be used. Oh, but once you do that this goes in the bedroom, not the kitchen, for good. Alright now, let's pick a condiment and a spot and just practice. And taste! Of course, taste — the warmth of the body, the location and the individual will change each flavor subtly. You should try..." I lost the thread of the lecture when someone started licking the honey Mrs. Clark had painted on my dick. I was beginning to re-think my stance on food and sex

Wet things began dripping on me and fingers began spreading them on different parts of my body. It was like being on the bottom of an orgy with everyone cumming on me. Someone asked, can I use hot sauce? I groaned in response. A minute later, one of my nipples lit up as something tingly landed on it. Then a warm, soft tongue cleaned it off. Hot sauce is a good thing, I thought. The hot sauce landed on the head of my dick and I gasped — for a second, I thought it was burning through. I was still trying to hold back but when the tongue cleaned me this time I dry came.

There were questions — most of the girls had never actually seen a guy cum before the Program had started and none of them had ever heard of this before. "It not, like rare," I said, "but it is supposed ta be uncommon. I kinda try to make it happen sometimes." Can I cum the normal way? Of course, but this is more fun. Why? I grinned at her. "Lasts longer."

"Oh my." Mrs. Clark said. "I'll have to read up on that one. What got him to do that, anyway? Salsa?" She gasped. "Oh, peppers! We need to discuss peppers." As pepper burns the tongue, so it burns other sensitive parts. "Condoms please always — the hotter the pepper, the stronger the burn. And soap and water will not remove it completely." She shuddered. "Believe me."

Mrs. Clark let Gail and I leave a few minutes early so we could get down to the locker rooms and shower before our next classes.

"I don't have any shower stuff today!" Gail lamented on our way down.

"Use mine." I offered.

"We'll be in opposite rooms."

I looked at her — she looked downright edible. "I got a reasonable request. Come on." I pulled her into the girls' locker room with me. I grabbed soap and a couple towels and started the shower spray. The stalls were too tight for us to be anything but right on top of each other. I put soap on my hands and began washing her. She did the same to me. I had sort of wanted it to be non-sexual but that idea ended the second my hands touched her tits. The nipples pushed against the palms of my hands and I pushed them back. Then I moved down over her stomach, getting the sticky residue of jam off. She seemed to have a little trouble getting the chocolate syrup out of what little chest hair I had.

I don't know when we started kissing but I rubbed soap up and down her ass crack while we did. She was so short, I had to lift her up a bit.

"I'm on the pill." She whispered unexpectedly and rubbed her thigh against my dick. I took that as an invitation and lifted her a bit higher. When she reached between us and pulled me into herself, I leaned her against the wall and we did it. We both gasped — Ms. Clark was right about those peppers! Gail was lucky that it was mild salsa.

I had been holding out for so long, I wasn't sure if I could hold back much longer. She made it easy for me. "Faster", she whispered. I didn't argue and rammed her. I lasted maybe five minutes and then dumped my load in her. She wrapped her legs around mine and inhaled my tongue. After a little while, she released her legs and slipped off me. We took another couple minutes to clean the sex off then turned off the water.

"Do you think Ima slut?" She asked as we dried off.

I started to say no while thinking yes. But then I looked at her. Gail was pretty and talented and walking around naked while most of the school felt her up. I'd been horny for four days straight and figured it was a reasonable bet that she'd been that way too. This wasn't her choice. "No." I said seriously. "Not even close." The funny part was that I meant it.

Beth — Third Period

The hallways seemed to be getting worse and the teachers were becoming more strict about us not loitering in the classroom until the second class bell. I admit, maybe I would have enjoyed it more if the reasonable requests were, well, interesting or unique or at least arousing but how many clueless high school boys found 'nice tits' to be the highlight of their day? My breasts felt like every boy in the building plus a few extra had squeezed them. Alex once said I had a 'perfect pussy' but apparently, he was in a vast minority of one — the rest of the guys seemed to think my body stopped at my waist. I had started to feel like finger prints were beginning to show. I caught up with Tiffany at the side door to the school and we walked to our lockers together. We grabbed our heavy-duty aprons and happily started to put them on.

"Hello Ladies." Ms. Pat stepped out of her office. "You know you need to wait until you get to the garage to put those on."

"But we have ta cross the parking lot." Tiffany looked more than a little worried. "Anybody can see us."

"I know, but that's the rule." We looked at each other mournfully but took off the full frontal cover. "Actually, I need to speak to the two of you. Step in for a moment." We followed her into her office and she gestured us to sit. "How are you two doing with the Program? Any problems?"

We exchanged a look. "No ma'am." I said. "It's weird but there's no problems." I wasn't about to get into my issues with the Program.

Tiffany shrugged. "I thought I was used ta bein' watched but this just freaky. I mean, I am not looking forward ta Sunday. But I'm not gonna drop out the Program, if that's what you mean."

"No, I didn't think that. I just wondered if you were both getting the full benefit of the program. Or if perhaps you might be suffering from a case of stage fright."

We looked at each other again. "Stage fright?"

"Yes." She picked up a folder. "Alright, girls, I'm going to be frank. You are not receiving relief as often as the others and I was just concerned as to why."

"We you can't expect us to keep up with the boys!" I exclaimed. I tried that one week — tried to match Alex, partner-for-partner and he beat me and Peter combined.

"Yeah." Tiff agreed.

"I don't mean the boys. The other girls in the group are averaging four requests a day. You two are only once a day — and Tiffany, no one reported you receiving relief at all yesterday."

"Reported?"

"Oh, well of course. We must monitor what's happening, when and to whom. Otherwise, there's nothing gained from the program, is there?" I kept silent on my opinion of that. "So, is there a problem?"

"No ma'am." Tiffany said softly. I nodded.

"Good! I expect today and tomorrow that you two will take full advantage of the program. I do want to remind you that if you don't complete the Program satisfactorily, you will have to repeat it later in the year." She closed the folder. "Oh really you two, smile. I'm not telling you to go do something unpleasant. I would think you'd enjoy the chance to have some honest, open, guilt-free sexual gratification."

We faked a smile as the second bell rang. She dismissed us — we wouldn't want to be late, would we? — and we grabbed out aprons and headed out.

It's not the naked part that's getting to me and if we had longer than five minutes, all the 'reasonable requests' might be ok. What gets me, however, is the lack of choice. I mean, I've never been afraid of my body and I've always known what I liked and didn't like — although, I have to admit I've learned new stuff so far this week — I've always been kind of selective about who got to see what. The Program, though, means that everybody gets to look, anybody can touch, I don't control what happens. And I definitely don't like that. I want to be in control, always.

Shop class this semester — specifically car engine repair — was held in a garage on the far side of the school property. The aprons were actually safety gear and Tuesday, I had been overjoyed to have some kind of protection in there. Mr. Ballard was roughly nine hundred years old and looked like Santa on a bad day but he was practically MacGyver. Give him an hour, a two-by-four, and a pack of gum and he could build the Taj Mahal complete with a working fountain and shuttle service. Most of the time, he ran Ballard Auto Repair over in Tappahannock, but twice a week, he taught at his old high school — he and my Grandfather had been classmates.

I was taking engine repair because that past summer, me and my only other girl cousins — Jean and Joan — had gone on an all girl fishing trip and the engine on my Uncle Wilton's beat up old cabin cruiser broke down and we had to call my Uncle, Capt. Ed, to come tow us home. After he finished berating us for not checking the boat out thoroughly before we went out, he laid into the boathouse staff for letting the boat get into such disrepair in the first place. Joan and I decided that we'd never get stranded again and both started to learn how to fix engines. Jean decided to stop fishing and go work in the company front office. So far, the class was pretty cool; Tiffany, me and Penny Gilliam were the only girls in the class and Mr. Ballard made a point of treating us just as he treated the guys.

On Tuesday, Ballard just about had a coronary when Tiff and I walked in naked. He flat refused to allow us relief — not that we asked, but the guys in the class were pretty disappointed — and had us and Penny work on an engine block behind a makeshift screen. When we walked in to the garage Thursday, however, he was frowning. He pulled us aside. "Now, girls, that Giles boy done tol' me 'bout this here new Program he done put you in. I must admit, I gave him a hard way ta go on it, but, well, I talked ta Julius" He nodded to me, "Ida talked ta Earl too, God rest his soul," He told Tiff, "an', well, he seem ta think this one a them things done pass us by. So's I guess if it's alright with him — an' they gonna make me anyhow, I guess — I won't make a fuss. But, now look; I'm not gonna just let them boys manhandle you right in fronta me! They can't treat a damn engine with any care, I doubt a one-of-em know what to do with a woman. So you just leave that part ta me." He smiled at us both and under different circumstances, it might have seem Grandfatherly — if, he hadn't just said for us to leave our 'relief' to him. He started to walk by us but stopped and smiled kind of wistfully at Tiff. "I ever tell you how much you look like yo' grandmamma? Ida had ta work on Saturday 'steda Friday night, I mighta been your granddaddy 'steda Earl." He gave her hand a squeeze and moved around us to address the rest of the class.

"Was that the grossest thing ever?" Tiffany whispered to me.

"Close." I whispered back. She didn't have Davis for history this semester. But then, Ballard wasn't looking at me and picturing his old flame.

"Alright now, boys," Ballard started. "Ima big enough man ta admit when I'm wrong. What you boys said about these girls — well, 'bout this here Program, anyhow — well, you was right." A couple of the guy cheered and they all moved a bit closer. "Simmer down, now. I wouldn't let a one-uh-you touch my truck, I ain't about ta let you have at these two without at least a word or two." He beckoned us forward and arrayed the boys around us so they could all see us; kind of the way he'd have done around an engine block. He made Penny join them. "How often you gonna get a chance to see this from the outside, so ta speak. Now. What's the first thing you do ta an engine you ain't never worked on before?"

The guys looked at each other before someone finally ventured, "Look at it and make sure you know what's what?"

"Got it in one."

"I already know what what on that engine." Art Trucker scoffed but Ballard looked hard at him.

"You tellin' me you know all there is 'bout ever' woman out there. You kin make these two — both of 'em, now — spill like you struck oil?"

"Yeah." He smirked at his buddies and nodded. "Sides my Dad say all that bull 'bout the female orgasm a lotta hot air dykes made up."

"Yo' Dad been divorced three times, ain't he?" observed Mr. Ballard dryly. "I wouldn't go taken a whole lotta advice on women from him." He looked at me and Tiffany. "So what you think? You think it's a bunch of hot air?"

Tiffany and I both turned scarlet red. "No." I finally managed. It might be elusive, but it definitely wasn't a myth. "And I wouldn't go out with a guy who told me it was."

"Well, now. Ain't that an interestin' fact, gentlemen?" He had the guys look at us in detail. They made the obvious observation — that my tits were way bigger that Tiff's were. But they all went quiet when he asked "Now what does that tell you 'bout pleasin' either one of them?" He answered his own question. "Not a damn thing, boys. Just 'cause they big, don't mean a thing except she likely ta be a good nurser you have a mess of kids with her."

He talked about the difference between stroking, caressing, squeezing and mauling breasts and then let them practice on us. After a couple minutes, he had them all step back again. Nearly all of them tried to hide the tent in their pants and I found myself trying to check them out on the sly. It was odd because I had practically stopped looking at the naked guys. Well, maybe that wasn't quite true — more, I'd gotten used to them being over-aroused. Peter once mentioned something called traveling erogenous zones — where what skin you can or can't see at any given time is the sexy part. If everyone always wears long sleeves, the girl with exposed elbows is the hot one. I could suddenly understand the theory — for a minute, even Trucker looked pretty hot.

Ballard then had us turn around and let the guys do the same exercise on our butts. I could feel myself getting aroused even though I really didn't want to. I glanced at Tiffany; her eyes were closed but she was biting her lip and her skin had that flush color like they were getting to her too. Luckily, Mr. Ballard didn't let that go on too long either.

"Alright now, that's enough uh that. You find a girl and practice on yo' own time. Grab a couple them towels — the clean ones, you idiot — put 'em on the hood uh that old Caddy." He nodded to Trucker. "Give the little Miss a hand." He indicated me then proceeded to sweep Tiffany into his arms and gently place her on the car. I stopped Trucker from following suit but let him give me a hand to keep the towels under us straight. He had us lie on our backs on opposite sides of the car with half the class around either of us. Then he had a couple guys apiece hold our legs open. "Gently, damn it! Ain't no way ta buff a dent outta that paint job." I had no idea what he was talking about but one of the guys holding my ankle asked if I was comfortable so I guess they got Ballard's message. "Now boys, an engine don't run if it don't got... ?" Even Tiffany and I said 'Lubricant' with the rest of the class. He had drilled that message into all of us.

"Right. Lubricant. If she ain't wet, boys, she ain't interested. Pack up an' go home. How we doin' so far?"

Penny smiled kind of sheepishly at me and touched my outer lips. "She wet." She said simply.

"God damn." One of the guys beside her breathed. "They get like that?" A few other guys made similar comments. I was mortified; Peter and Alex had both commented on how wet I get — it was why they were so confused as to why I rarely cum — but to have a whole class make a study of my vaginal juices was more than embarrassing. Another thing I didn't want to share with everyone in the world.

Mr. Ballard then had the class open our outer lips and talked them through touching the inner lips and suddenly I realized that I hadn't heard anything but Ballard's voice and me and Tiff panting for a long while. My whole attention was on the feeling of random fingers stroking my private parts. Then Ballard started discussing our clits; a warm shiver ran through me. Someone remarked that mine looked like a tiny stiff dick and Ballard suggested that they treat it like one. The next thing I felt was a tongue wrap around it and I could not stop the loud groan that slipped out. A few more tongues passed over me and I wondered if this might actually push me over the top. And when I heard Tiffany beside me nearly scream, I knew I would hit it at any moment. Then I hit that damn plateau. Silently, I swore to myself and faked it for the class. Not that any of them noticed. They all congratulated themselves and more than a couple guys had wet spots on their pants.

"Still think it's hot air, boys?" Ballard asked and received a chorus of no's. A few vowed to practice on their girlfriends. A couple switched between Tiffany and me to compare stats. I heard Tiff moan and looked over my shoulder. Two of the guys were trying again. Then someone grabbed my ankle and a tongue raked my clit. I couldn't help gasping with a little frustration. The first tongue moved and a second took over. Then a third. Then a fourth but it was both softer and more insistent than the others. It not only went up and down more swiftly but it pushed into my slit more deeply than anyone else had. Once inside, it sort of swiveled around like in was licking my insides which was a new feeling. Distantly, I heard Tiffany coming again. And it seemed like I heard one of the guys too but it was hard to think about anything other than the tongue that was pushing me way closer than I'd been in a long time.

Then I felt my muscles contract and knew I must have finally hit it. Except that the pleasure — the shivers, the explosion of nerves, mind numbing indescribable sensation — wasn't there. It was as if my body just gave up and faked the orgasm without my mind playing along. I lay there panting, like I'd run a race — trying not to cry with the frustration of it all. Finally, I leaned forward to see who it was who got me nearly there.

Penny sat between my legs wiping her face with a wet paper towel. Several guys around her were wiping themselves off or zipping their flies. I wasn't sure how to react — it wasn't that I had a problem with it. But I wasn't all that comfortable with the idea that a girl had done what no guy this week had. The guys actually applauded and Penny blushed. "Um. Thanks." I closed my legs and scooted off the car hood.

A door closed and Mr. Ballard emerged from his office drying his hands. "Alright, now, boys. That's enough of that. Somebod' get the mop an' clean up this here mess. The rest of you break inta teams and change the fluids in all uh them vehicles. You should have just enough time for that. Go on, get movin'." He looked at Tiffany and I. "You two alright now?"

"Yeah." We both answered.

"Fine, fine." He cleared his throat. "I ... uh ... good ... fine. Well. I best, uh ... you two go on, get ta work."

"Yes, sir." We put the towels in the dirty rag bin, grabbed our aprons and joined our teams.

Alex and Beth - Lunch

"Here." Stephanie handed everyone a flier. "I'm having a party Saturday — after the game. It's clothing optional!"

"Isn't your Dad gonna be home?"

"It's his idea!" She fairly glowed. "Actually, we're thinking of making our house a clothing-free zone."

"Eeewwww!" and "Cool" vied around the table.

"Are you commin', Alex?"

"You gonna have beer?"

"No! Dad's liberal, but come on!"

"Yeah, well I'll think 'bout it." But he was grinning.

"We're inviting you guys — the whole senior class, really — and a couple other juniors and some people at Dad's office, and oh yeah, tell your folks — Dad wants parents ta come too."

Khalid frowned. "Not mine. My Dad'd burn the place down. He's lectured me every night this week about American immorality."

"You actually believe all that camel-jockey BS?" Zach taunted.

Khalid took it as a joke. "Yeah, pope-boy, I do." He shrugged. "Well, some of it, anyhow. Most of it. It makes more sense if you read the Koran itself though. Some of the stuff gets really warped in translations."

"Yeah, the same thing happens at our church. What the bible says depends on which minister you ask."

"Well, my Dad's the pious type."

"Should we be worried?"

"Pious, not militant. He thinks Americans don't pray enough." That got a laugh around the table. "I just hope I can get into college before he finishes this contract."

"Why?"

"Cause if I don't, I'll have to go back to Algeria with him and Mom next summer." He put an arm around Steph. "And I like American immorality. I've already talked to my Mom about getting me a permanent Visa."

"Cool."

"Very cool."

"What about you, Gail? You comin' Saturday?"

Gail looked across the table at Van Chi. Something passed between them and she looked back at her untouched lunch. "I don't think so." She said softly. Van looked at his lunch and nobody asked about his Saturday plans.

"Jared?"

"Can I bring Steven?"

"Only if he's naked. You two back on?"

"No, but I haven't given up yet. Beth, just do me a favor — don't talk to me for a while!"

"Look, I'll talk ta Steven if you talk ta Hank."

"Hank? So the rumors are true?"

"Rumors?" She groaned. "Just what I need."

"I heard a rumor." Brenda dropped not so casually. "Penny for your thoughts, Barbie."

"Oh!" Tif said with sudden surprise. "That's who it was."

"What?" Alex perked up. "Who was?"

"Penny went down on Beth in Shop today." Brenda said grinning. "Art told me it was so hot even Old Ballard had ta bust a nut."

"Oh Jesus!" Beth buried her head on the table under her arms.

"And I missed it?" Alex exclaimed. "Damn! Anybody get photos?"

"Eeeewww, Alex!" Tiff laughed. "Gross!"

"What? I'm just lookin'!"

"It's a vile implication, Alex." Van observed sternly. "But not surprising coming from you."

"Oh, relax, dude, I'm kiddin'!" Alex laughed and poked Beth's arm. "Doin' her's like doin' my sister or something. "Sides," he smirked at Steph. "I can think of better ways ta spend my time."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely."

The bell rang and most of the room began to move, gather trash and books and heading for the fourth class of the day. Van Chi put a hand on Alex's arm. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yeah. I gotta get my guitar out my locker. Walk with?"

Alex — Fourth Period

We stopped by Van's locker first and he got a CD, then by mine for the guitar. Today was 'show and tell' in Music Appreciation — bring you favorite make out music, either a piece you've done it to or something you like to and be prepared to discuss why it would make good intimate background music. The guitar was my A+ for the day — nothing beats playing something for a girl you're trying to nail. Compare her to the instrument and to the music; works every time.

He didn't say anything at first. We had a couple requests as we moved through the hall and I noticed that he considered any thing more than a quick stroke or a light squeeze 'unreasonable'. I also noticed that it didn't take much more than that to get him rock hard.

When we had a minute alone — comparatively speaking at least — I asked him, "Dude, you ok with this?"

"It's a graduation requirement."

"No shit! When they do that?"

He looked at me. "How did you miss the whole debate and all the announcements about this?"

"Dude, when all this came down? I was on this fuckin' amazing cruise. We went to Bangkok and we saw this..."

"I do not need to know what you saw in Bangkok."

"We spent a couple days in Vietnam too. Fuckin' awesome place, dude."