Saturday

I woke up Saturday the exact same way as I did on Friday: Brian softly kissing across my shoulders and rubbing my stomach. It was again almost two hour before I had to get up. Mr. Happy was happily snug against the crack of my butt and my bladder was again breaking the mood.

This time after our bathroom routine, he didn't sit on the edge of the bed, he just got under the covers with me again and went back to the kisses. Despite relieving himself, Mr. Happy still seemed quite happy. I understood completely how he felt - I felt like my whole body was going to burst.

But still. "Are you going to do that all day?" I asked finally.

"Would you let me?" He answered not stopping.

"I might." Does the spell last all day if you do?

"I can't anyway. Eventually, we have to get up." He didn't show any signs of stopping anytime soon, though. "I'll stop if you want me to." I didn't say anything mostly because I didn't trust myself not to ruin the moment. He didn't stop kissing. In fact, he started moving further up my neck and around my ears and his hands slid higher up my stomach - holding me just under my tits.

Someone moaned. It might have been me. It was definitely me when his hands slipped further up and held my tits gently. He pulled me - or maybe I rolled and pushed him, I'm not sure which - flat on my back and kissed my lips.

I held him there. I let him kiss me. I wanted - I needed - him to kiss me. I didn't want him to ever stop. It warm and sweet at first but our tongues seemed to lead us to more aggressive kissing. More passionate. We were both sitting up, still engaged in sloppy wet kissing, when I noticed his hand leave my nipple and tease between my legs. My fingers had been in his hair - how soft is his hair! - and I moved one hand down to his nipples to see how he liked it.

He whimpered softly. "Ty." He panted, trying to squeeze in words without releasing my mouth. "We don't have to do any thing."

"Ok." We don't have to...

"I don't want you to think..."

"Shut up, Brian." I sighed it. I would had snapped at him but that's really hard when someone's kissing you into jelly. He did shut up though. He never stopped kissing me as he leaned me back again.

Not until he began moving down my chest. He took one nipple between his lips and sucked gently. We both groaned. He began licking and sucking, alternating between the left and right. Terrance didn't do that. He played with them our first date - which did feel pretty good. But he used them as handles the night he did me. Brian was using them as instruments of torture - if he kept up what he was doing, I thought I might scream. "Do you like that?" He paused to ask a stupid question.

"Uh-huh." I managed to get out.

"Good." He whispered and went back to it. I was limp. Utterly limp. It wasn't like Friday morning when I went off like a bomb. It was slower, softer, more like a stream slowly flooding it's banks. His lips tenderly squeezed my nipple again and I shook. He took more of my tit into his mouth and I moaned while I shook. It was a few minutes before it passed but when it did, I felt just as breathless and exhausted and as good as I did when he made me cum the first time.

"Oh God!" I moaned softly. "Stop." My nipples were beginning to get a bit sore.

"Sorry." He kissed - attacked? - my mouth again and his breath had the oddest taste. I suddenly realized that it was breast milk - my milk! - and was completely torn between thinking that it was the grossest thing I'd ever tasted and that it was the most wonderful thing I'd ever tasted. The kiss didn't last to long, though. He pulled away from me, panting. Watching my face, he reached between my legs and fingered me there. I was squishy wet. He kept fingering me, watching my eyes close and then making me gasp, build and shudder through another one. This time I could feel it building, the nerves tingling, the tension growing. I couldn't breath near the end; I just kept inhaling but I couldn't let out the air. When it hit, I felt my mouth open but I could barely make a sound. I couldn't think for a few seconds.

I was reaching out for something to hold on to - or maybe just trying to regain motor control of my arm, I'm not sure which - when my hand landed on him. On it. The top was slick and I remembered what it had tasted like yesterday in the shower. I remembered how much he seemed to enjoy the two girls who relieved him. I wondered if he wanted me to relieve him. I didn't remember sitting up but I couldn't look at his face while I maneuvered to where my head was more or less in his lap. I did keep stroking him because I knew he'd liked that.

He didn't say anything. He stroked my hair lightly but he didn't say anything. Which was probably a good thing; he'd have said something like I didn't have to and I'd have said something stupid and it would have been another train wreck morning. So we both kept our mouths shut.

Well, mine wasn't shut actually.

I kept stroking him and took a good long look at his tool. I had space to wrap both hands around - which earned a groan - and could still see the tip sticking out. It was nearly purple with clear cream providing lubricant for my hands. It didn't look like the white stuff but when I stuck my tongue out and tapped it lightly, it tasted a lot like it. I took a bigger taste which earned another groan. Slowly, still not looking at his face - I couldn't stand it if he was laughing at me - I licked his whole shaft. Once the cream was cleaned away, he tasted neutral - like clean skin. I felt a little silly; I don't know what I expected it to taste like. When I got back to the top, I swirled my tongue like I would an ice cream cone.

"Oh jeeeeeeezzzzzzzz!" he moaned.

I stole a look at him. His eyes were clinched shut and his face was red. "Am I doing this right?" I couldn't help asking.

"Oh yeah." He sighed. "That feels great."

I stroked him for a minute more and wondered what I should do next. The girls at school had both put it in their mouths but I couldn't really see what they did with it. You can't actually 'blow' like that - leaving me to wonder why do they call it a blow job? But I could 'suck'. I put my mouth around the tip and sucked it. He gasped and grabbed my head. I let go immediately. "Was that wrong?"

"No!" He gasped. "No, that was good. Just ... intense. Maybe not so hard. Uh, have you ... ever..." I shook my head. "You don't have to..."

I sucked him again just to shut him up. He gasped and let me do what I was doing. It took a few minutes of trying things but I finally figured out to slide my lips up and down his shaft, the wetter, the easier. "Oh jeeeezzzzz" he moaned a couple times. When I accidentally nipped him with me teeth, though, he stopped me.

"Not that!" He snapped, actually angry I think. "I hate that."

"It was an accident." I snapped back. "Damn!"

His tone softened. "Sorry. I used to know a girl who thought that was funny. Hurts like shit." I think that was the first time I'd actually heard him swear like that.

"Sorry." I started to pull away. "I wasn't trying to hurt you; I'll stop."

"What now?" several emotions ran over his face. "You don't have to ... I mean, if you want ... if this ... Ty, please, don't..." He took a breath. "I would really appreciate it if you finished."

"If you didn't like it..."

"Oh believe me, except for the teeth, I loved it!"

"You're sure?" I leaned my face back down but he caught it and kissed me.

"I'm sure." He said intently. He hesitated a moment. "You could go faster, if you wanted to."

He looked a little pensive and I realized he wanted me to go faster but didn't want to hurt my feeling by correcting me. I couldn't help smirking. "If you want to go faster, then say so. Otherwise, I go how I go."

He smirked back - no blush! "Go faster." He said simply.

I bent back to the task at hand. I started stroking faster first. "Like this?"

"Oh! Yeah! Jeeeeeezzzzzzz! Oh Ty!"

It took a little while to get my hand and mouth moving in the same rhythm. When I got off tempo, I hit myself in the mouth. Not fun. After a couple tries, I stopped and just used my hand as fast as I could. I think Brian had stopped paying attention to my technique, though. His eyes were clinched shut again and he was making that face again like he did on Friday. After another couple of minutes, he gasped.

"Don't stop! Ty! I'm - I'm - I'm -" I suddenly realized what was about to happen, quickly put my mouth over the tip like the other girls did and sucked again. "JESUS CHRIST!" He bellowed and shot out about a gallon of his stuff into my mouth.

I was shocked - what did I expect to happen, really! - and swallowed reflexively. It didn't taste bad but it had a sort of slimly consistency. Brian's hands were on the back of my head and his thing was still in my mouth but beginning to soften.

I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do next but Brian answered that by moving so that he was almost on top of me and kissing me deeply. Really, really hard. He was panting and sweaty and he's eyes were really really shiny when he looked at me. "That was amazing, Ty." He whispered finally. "Thank you." I could feel my cheeks burning.

There was a soft tap on my door and then it opened a crack. "Hello?" Mrs. Redmond's voice was very soft and very amused. "If you two are awake, I'm making breakfast. If you're hungry - for food." She didn't move to where she could look in as I scrambled to pull the sheet up over me.

"Uh, thanks." I said. This isn't at all embarrassing.

"You're welcome, Tish. Good morning Brian."

His voice cracked. "Uh, good morning, Mrs. uh, Redmond, ma'am."

"See you two down stairs. Take your time." If she giggled, she did it after she closed the door.

Brian fell back on the bed. "Oh man, I'm glad she wasn't five minutes earlier."

"Loud as you were, that's probably how she knew we were up." I couldn't help cracking.

He sat up. "You think your Dad heard?"

"I think your Dad heard."

He did blush this time. "Well, it was your fault. Sucking like that was ... wow ... intense!"

"Oh. Sorry."

He looked at me and smiled. Not his normal beaming sunlight smile; something darker but still warm. "Next time, it'll be you making all the noise." He leaned back over me. "You are entirely too quiet." He kissed me again. "In bed. You're all loud and mean in school and quiet and sweet in bed."

"Is that a problem?" I was trying to sound sharp but it came out breathless.

He didn't answer, he just kissed me again. Neither of us was trying to move so it's probably a good thing that the alarm clock went off. We grinned at each other and got up - showered separately - and got dressed.

Down in the kitchen, Mr. Redmond had a cup of coffee and the morning paper between him and a plate of eggs and bacon.

"There you two are! I was beginning wonder." Mrs. Redmond exclaimed. She started pulling out two more plates. "Sit! Sit! I think I got the eggs just right today." She went off on a tangent about how good her cooking has gotten ever since I moved in while she served us two plates and got my vitamins. "So. Now. What are we seeing today?"

I shrugged. "Some thing. We just come out, do our routine, and that's it."

"The Education First Festival," Mr. Redmond began reading aloud, "is bringing students from all quadrants of the city together to showcase the educational, athletic and extra circular talents of our youth." He looked over the corner of the paper. "There is also supposed to be a to-do about The Program and it's participants. I guess you two are supposed to be appropriately 'dressed' for it?"

Kill me now, please! "Uh, yes, sir." Brian said.

"Great." He flipped the paper up again. "I'll have to bring the camera."

"Philip Joseph Redmond, stop teasing them!" Mrs. smacked his wrist and a squelched chuckle came from behind the paper. "He won't take any photos you don't want taken. Will you, Philip?"

"Relax, Val."

Breakfast went like that mostly. Just as we were finishing, Brian's cell rang and he frowned at the number. "Excuse me." He mumbled and stepped into the hallway. The rest of us looked at each other and then tried to pretend we didn't know that it must be his parents. I know I felt much better when, as he came back into the kitchen, he said, "I love you too." He looked at us as he put the phone away. "They're coming today. We're gonna talk afterwards."

"Good." Mrs. perked right up. "Alright, now. I have just enough time to go get dressed. Philip, be a dear and do the dishes." She kissed his cheek and hurried out of the room.

"As I recall," Mr. folded the paper, "dishes are your chore." He kissed my cheek. "Better hop to it. You don't want to be late." He slipped out of the kitchen chuckling.

"So I'm just free labor?" I called after him.

"Looks like." He shot back.

Brian helped me fill the dishwasher and wipe the counters. Mostly we stood in the kitchen kissing. Somehow, Brian did manage to keep an eye on the time and we got out of the house in time to get to the school by 8. We stripped quickly - no helping each other this time - and I put on my hat.

Coach Watson and Lt. Lipton were arguing. They stopped as soon as we got close. "Just the two we need." The Coach fumed. "We have a small dilemma, Shay-Shay."

"What?"

"Him." He pointed to Brian.

"What's wrong with him?"

"He's in the Program."

"So?"

"He's also JROTC."

"He's my ranking Cadet." The Lt. pointed out.

"So?"

"So, I can't Drill with the squad out of uniform, can I Sir?" Brian must have hit it because the Lt. shook his head and the Coach sighed.

"Problem is, we don't have anyone to replace you in the line."

Brian laughed. "No problem. I'll get my uniform - I left it in the car." He jogged back.

"But what about the program?" The coached yelled.

"He's got to do it next week since he missed class anyway. What can they do give him another week on top of that?"

The Coach and the Lt. exchanged a look then the officer shrugged. "Solves my problem." In the distance, I could see Brian, arms loaded, dashing for the locker rooms. There weren't any other last minute issues so I spent the rest of the time waiting for everyone else to show up.

Michelle arrived at 8:35.

"That's the closest to on time I've seen you in three years." The Coach teased.

We ran through the routine a couple more times before loading the bus and heading downtown. Freedom Plaza is a city-block size slab of marble set in the middle of Penn Avenue between the District Government Office building and the National Theatre. In the middle of summer, it's a perfect place to cook a thousand people during one of the city's lame attempts at a festival. In October, it's only a little less so. The whole street was blocked off for four blocks and lots of tents were set up for student groups and book publishers and anyone else who wanted to show their support for education. Around 9am, the mayor began making speeches and shortly thereafter, Cardoza's band marched out. No wonder they win best band every year! They rocked! After them, a choir came out. Then a drum core. Then who knows; I stopped paying attention until they called us. I took one more look at our group.

We looked good. The JROTC guys - all six of them - were spit shined. They looked like serious military and they started their slow steady cadence to bring us all in. The Step team didn't look as military, but we didn't look as cheerleader as the Dance line. First off, we wore pants, not those stupid tights. And our shirts had lapels. It did look a bit 80's but it was a school traditional thing. We stepped in behind the Drill Team and I broke away as quickly as I could to take point. I did hear a couple gasps as people realized that I was naked or prego or both. There had been a couple other naked people (and by the end of the day, two other prego girls) so I tried to concentrate on the line and not the people behind me getting the worst view of their lives!

The music started and I really wished I was in the line not watching. JC got his head down, this time. Michelle was on fire. Brian was ... hot. It seemed like the whole thing took too little time but when the music stopped and the team froze, the crowd went wild.

Then MermaidMan - who else? - started chanting and the others picked it up. "Shay Shay Shay..." Until I came over to the group. The crowd cheered again. I wanted to laugh and cry and die of embarrassment all at the same time. Finally, we cleared the space for the next group.

Coach Watson had a hug for everyone and everyone's parents were waiting with him. Even Mr. and Mrs. Loving. Even the Redmonds. She gave me a big hug and gushed. "I got the whole thing on tape! That was amazing. And you did it! Mr. Watson told us the whole thing was your idea! I've never been so proud in my whole life!"

"Val! Let the girl breath." But Mr. was grinning at me. "You done good, kid."

I bit my lip and then kissed his cheek. "Thanks. Dad." I thought I'd try it out. It was ok. He grinned even wider.

Brian came over and took my hand. "Can we talk for a minute?" He pulled me away from everyone, behind one of the catering trucks and then kissed me until I was breathless. "If I told you how bad I want to go back to your room," he panted, "you'd never believe me."

"Uh..." was all I managed to get out.

"I got to talk to my folk tonight but is it ok if I come back to your place tonight? Please?" How could I say no to that face? He beamed at me again. "They might notice we're missing by now. Ready to go back?"

I was ready to follow him anywhere.

Around 12:30 the obligatory rain storm passed through. We - and about a million other people - fled for the various stores and hotels near by. The Willard, where Brian, Michelle and I wound up had their AC on full blast, so Brian put his jacket around me. Michelle teased us about being so cute together. I was wet, I was cold and he was a gentleman. I didn't think any more about it.

Not until later, around 3pm as they were finally finishing the event, and they introduced Carl Bethsman, the National Head of the Naked in School Program. He asked all Program Participants to join him on the stage. Brian and I were at the foot of the steps when someone asked "should you be wearing that?" I gave Brian his jacket back and he chuckled for a minute and decided to bow out. "I have to repeat next week anyway so I'm basically out of the Program."

Mr. Bethsman gave me a long stern look before giving his speech about how The Program has improved students and schools and blah, blah, blah. He had each of us introduce our schools and ourselves and then let us leave the stage.

But, as soon as I stepped down, a woman approached me. "TyShala Brown? This way please." She led me back over to a tent labeled 'No Admittance'. Ms. Wagner and Ms. Scott were waiting. Ms. Scott looked pissed but Ms. Wagner just looked tired.

"Where are the Redmonds?" Ms. Scott asked.

"We're still trying to find them." The woman answered. In the distance, we could hear applause and the final band playing. I could just make out Mrs. Redmond's voice getting closer. They entered the tent and she immediately began to fuss about their treatment. Mr. Redmond asked if I was alright and then just waited. Finally, the door opened and Mr. Bethsman entered.

"Good afternoon. I'm sorry to do this now but that was unprecedented."

"Carl, there is no need to do this..." Ms. Wagner started but he cut her off.

"I would have never expected to see this from a student under your guidance, Karen, I really wouldn't."

"What exactly is going on here?" Mr. Redmond asked. His voice had that same intense, irritated edge it had in the office on Monday.

"Who are you?"

"Philip Redmond. I'm TyShala's ... guardian."

"I'm her Foster-mother." Ms. Redmond pushed forward. "And I want to know what's going on."

"Let's calm down a bit, shall we?" Ms. Scott seemed to have reigned in her own temper. "This is not a life and death crisis here. It is a student who made an error."

"A blatant violation of Program policy." Mr. Bethsman countered.

"A simple mistake." Ms. Scott repeated. There was a moment of tense silence. "Ms. Brown, why were you wearing a jacket this afternoon?"

"I was cold." I shrugged. "I got wet when it rained and we went to the Willard and it was cold. Brian gave me his jacket."

"You should have returned it as soon as you left that building." Mr. Bethsman snapped.

"She was prudent not to risk getting sick." Mr. Redmond's voice was not loud but it carried. "Or did you not notice that she has other health considerations."

"If her pregnancy was a concern, then she shouldn't be in the program at this time."

"And if anyone had known about her pregnancy, she wouldn't have been."

Bethsman arched an eyebrow. "And just how does a student hide such a thing?"

"By being new to the school and actively deceiving us. Don't make this any more difficult on her than it has been."

"She didn't even have the sense not to join the other Program students!" Bethsman groused. "At least then, no one would have known. But to undress at the podium! Program Failure!" He gestured as if a caption were under the mental picture.

"So what's the big deal?" Mrs. Redmond huffed. "She was dressed for five minutes. So what?"

"It's a violation of the Program rules."

"So what? Honestly!"

"Well, if this had happened privately, frankly, we'd dismiss it out of hand." Ms. Scott looked directly at Mr. Bethsman. "And if we were on school grounds, I think we'd add an additional day -"

"Or two." Ms. Wagner interjected.

"-or two to the student's program week." She looked at the Redmonds. "We have to make sure that the student body knows that the Program is required and enforced."

Mr. Redmond seemed to get where this was going. "So what do you do when the infraction is in front of the whole city?"

The room was silent again while we all pondered that question.

Finally, Ms. Scott sighed deeply. "We'll add another few days."

"Oh let's be reasonable!" Mrs. Redmond protested.

"A few days! She'll be on the six-o'clock news!" Bethsman sputtered.

"You're exaggerating, Carl."

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Karen, but she assuredly will be. Two local reporters have already asked me if I was aware of the situation. I'm surprised they haven't interviewed the little protester herself."

"Protester!"

"Yes, it seems that some have taken her little error as a public protest against the Program itself."

"Tishshalla?" Ms. Wagner looked stunned. "Are you protesting the Program?"

"Would you be surprised if she did?" Mr. Redmond asked. "Are you saying she doesn't have a reason to protest this ... this ... denigration?"

"TyShala, why didn't you come to me if you had concerns?" Ms. Scott asked me.

They all looked at me waiting for an answer. "Protest? I was cold. I forgot I was wearing it. I don't see why it's such a big deal!"

Bethsman pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is not the sort of issue The Program needs right now."

"Then let's not let it get out of hand, Carl."

"Karen -" he sighed deeply. "What do you propose, exactly?"

Ms. Wagner and Ms. Scott exchanged a look. "Let us handle it; she is our student, after all."

"And I suppose you'll handle the media as well?"

"I'll handle the media." Mrs. Redmond spoke up. "How are you planning to 'handle' Tish?"

"Well, she goes into the Program again next week." Ms. Wagner put up her hand to forestall any arguments. "Not the whole week, but until she actively participates."

"And who determines that?"

"She will be monitored by the faculty and her partner just as she was this week."

"The week that failed."

"Not failed, Carl. Some kids have different needs."

He nodded. "I know, I know. I'm just really tired." He rubbed his face. "OK. Ms. Brown, you can assure me that you are not trying to launch some kind of protest?"

"Yeah." I shrugged.

"Are you going to accept the decision to repeat the program?"

I really didn't want to do the Program again. Last week had been miserable. I couldn't imagine another week being any better.

"Of course," Ms. Scott seemed to be looking away from us, "students with parental support usually do better than those without."

"What does that mean?" Mr. Redmond snapped.

"That means that what makes the Program work is parents who talk to their children about their experience during the week. Some even share the experience by doing Outreach as well."

"We talked." But he looked at me just a little unsure.

"Really?" Ms. Scott pursed her lips. "So TyShala told you that her Lit class was reading The Scarlet Letter this week?"

"No." He shrugged. "Is that significant?"

"I don't know, Mr. Redmond. Should reading about an unwed mother while pregnant and naked in class be significant?"

He nodded and sighed. "Ok. Yeah, I get your point."

"And there was the scene Monday in Drama, not to mention Karen's biology classes all week."

"You've made your point! Val and I need to step up; we're bad parents. Thanks."

"Not bad, Mr. Redmond, just inexperienced. Next week would give you all a second chance - if Miss Brown agrees, of course."

I suddenly realized that they were all staring at me, waiting for a decision. Finally, Mr. Redmond got up and pulled me aside.

"Ok, straight up, TyShala," He asked quietly, "if you don't want to do this, tell me."

I glanced back at Ms. Wagner. "It's not like anybody wants to see me naked."

He chuckled and then realized that I was serious. "Why not?"

"Cause I'm fat and pregnant?"

He looked at me for a moment. "Shay-shay, you're a beautiful young lady. Look, I don't know what happened last week, and we can talk about it - if you want. I don't want to pry. I know you don't like to get in to a lot of personal details. But I - we - want to do this right. So if you're willing to try this again, I'll - I'll - I'll" he looked away and actually blushed, "I'll try this outreach thing."

"Really?" Mr. Redmond was not the type who did crazy things. "I thought you didn't like this thing." He was certainly against the sex part.

He shrugged. "I'm not thrilled with the idea of teens walking around in public naked. And I'm not happy with the idea of you having sex with every guy in school." I snorted at that. "Shay, I don't know what you think is going on, but I've been watching these guys all day. Trust me, they are checking you out. But, I've got to get used to that. Especially if this Brian is going to be a fixture."

"You don't see them at school; he's the only one."

He thought for a moment. "Would that help, next week? If I came to school for a day or two?"

"Naked?"

He hesitated. "Ok. Naked." He shook his head. "If you can do two weeks, I can get through a couple days. Deal?" He put out his hand.

I hadn't meant to make an offer, he just surprised me. But he had his hand out to shake on it and he was serious. He was willing to take time off from work and come to school naked with me just to make me feel a little better about the whole thing. Why would anyone do that?

I looked at the offered hand for a minute. Then I had to ask. "Why?"

He considered the question for a moment. "Because I still think I'm your father. And I'm betting you still care what I think."

That was almost as unnerving as when Brian kissed me! "Oh. OK." Numbly, I let him take my hand and give it a firm shake.

"Ok." He turned to everyone. "She'll do it. And I'll come down to the school and do a couple days of outreach for moral support. Do you think that will end your protest issues?"

"Oh don't worry about that!" Mrs. Redmond waved dismissively. "I have another issue for them to chew on. Are we done here?" Apparently, they were done. Ms. Redmond came over to me and gave me a hug and kiss. In her hand was an old envelope with some hastily scribbled notes. "Alright, Tish, sweetheart. Are you ready?"

"For what?"

"To face the press. Now, don't give me that look. You just stand beside me and look pretty. I'll do all the talking. They may have some questions after but you'll do fine with that. OK?" she smoothed my hair and studied my face for a moment.

I looked at Mr. Redmond. He was smiling at us slightly. "I guess."

"Good." She pulled a mirror out of her purse and checked her face. "Kiss for luck, dear?" Mr. kissed her cheek and then my forehead and she lead me out of the tent.

Outside, there was a small knot of people with cameras and microphones lounging and chatting. They popped to attention when we came out and several cameras flashed. I suddenly remembered that I was still naked and started to cover myself but Mrs. touched my arm softly and I held her hand. I still felt naked but it was better with her there. It took me a minute, but then I realized that several of them were calling her name and she knew many of them.