Chapter 8

North Robert High School
10:01 A.M. Friday, November 9, 2063

"Coach," Anika Nakamachi asked, "Is it true that you used to play pro ball? My dad says he got your autograph once. Or was that some other Harold Michaels?"

All eyes turned to me. This question got asked from time to time. Coming from Anika (a lovely sixteen year old virgin of Japa­nese-Nigerian ancestry) it wasn't so bad.

"Yes, for six years I played z-golo, most of it with the Comets. I retired four years ago, and started teaching Sex Ed three years ago."

The girls were all ears. I was sure that most of them never followed z-golo, or any of the other sports played in zero-G. Well, maybe weightless gymnastics, and I remembered Lisa saying that she followed veegeewushu [variable-gravity martial arts]. Still, the sudden revelation that Coach had been a pro athlete was exciting to them. The next question was inevitable, and I just waited to see who would ask it. It turned out to be Wendi Jones.

"Were you any good?"

"Twice nominated for MVP," I told them, "most recoveries in a single season, 2056. There's talk of inducting me into the Z-Golo Hall of Fame next year, but I'm not going to bet any large sums of money on that."

Time for the next inevitable question.

"So how," Caitlyn wanted to know, "does a potential Hall of Famer go from the Comets to teaching Sex Ed in the north of Chicago?"

"I'd pulled my right shoulder out three times," I said, "and the docs told me they might not be able to fix it up as well the next time. You may have noticed that when I have to pick up something heavy, I always use my left hand, even though I'm right-handed. When it started messing me up in the game, I knew it was time to quit. I didn't want to play if I had to hold back all the time."

"Besides," I added, "Sex Ed was my major at college. It was my intended career, but a scout saw me when I went to orbit for a vacation."

Saffron and Lisa wanted me to bring video of some of my old games. The other girls groaned at the suggestion, then looked apologetically at me.

"Tell you what," I said, "any of you join the school's z-golo team, I'll bring in several hours of highlights from my career and announce that I am now your z-golo coach."

This brought general laughter because, of course, North Robert High School had no z-golo team, nor could they, being on the surface of the Earth.

"Now if each of you will look in your basket," I said, continuing on with the class, "you will find goggles and a camera. I was able to get these, for today only, from the multimedia lab. Last year's class had to take turns using a single cam, and the image was projected on the big screen. This equipment will allow you to examine yourselves at a more leisurely pace, and without showing the whole class at once."

There was considerable relief at that; they'd known that the vaginal self-exam was today, and more than one girl had been nervous at the idea of her crotch being displayed to the whole room, like Tina's and Louise's had been. The camera and goggles were stereo, and high resolution. I had tested them, and it was like an out-of-body experience. It wasn't like looking into a mirror; it was as if I were looking at somebody who looked just like me. For the girls, it was going to be like suddenly finding yourself playing amateur gynecologist to your long-lost twin.

"However," I continued, "I do need a volunteer to model for the class, yep, big screen and all, before the self-exams can begin." There was some hesitation, and then both Rita and Amethyst raised their hands.

I smiled. "Amethyst, I know you've got pretty parts, I got a good look while you were being painted Halloween. But you were one of the models the last time, along with Linda, Tina, and Louise. So I'm going to ask you to sit this one out. Rita, if you would step up here please."

Rita did. I asked her to lie down, adjusted her position a bit, and then asked her to bend her knees and spread her legs. I placed the little cam I have for class, the same one I had used that day with Tina and Louise, and soon had Rita's crotch displayed on the one-metre (3' 3") screen for the class. I leaned and put my face less than a half metre (20") away from the sixteen-year-old's pussy. She seemed to be OK with this, so I started the lecture.

"Notice that, while Rita has much in common with Amethyst, Linda, and even Louise, she is also different in some ways. The vagina," I continued, "is almost like a fingerprint: each is different in some ways, but each is the same in overall conformation."

The girls nodded, they knew this already. Well, we had been looking at pictures and watching video all year that made this obvious. I knew that some of them had examined themselves already, at home, and two or three had even taken pictures to compare with each other. There seemed little chance that any of these girls thought of their vaginea as looking unusual, which was a common fear in the days when it was thought somehow improper to let young girls look at pics of what they themselves had. Still, it was good to remind them just before they started examining themselves.

I took two fingers and spread Rita's vagina open. There was a small gasp from her, and some softer ones from a few of her classmates. Up to now, I had not actually touched any of the girls' sexual parts, except for last Tuesday, when I had briefly run my fingers over Amethyst's nipples, and of course when dancing with the girls Halloween, there had been a lot of bare skin pressed against mine. But actually touching the vagina was new.

With my face still between Rita's thighs, I continued. "While examining yourselves, note not just how your vagina is different from Rita's or the others you have seen, but how they are similar. Note not only how they are similar, but also how they are different. I want you to open yourself up, get a really good look. Don't be afraid to touch what you see. In fact, this is a good idea, as it lets your brain correlate tactile and visual information. That is, it lets your brain compare what you see to what you feel."

I spread the girl open a little wider, and started touching, just barely, each part as I mentioned it.

"You will note the vaginal cavity," touch, "the urethra," touch, "and the clitoris," touch. I kept my finger on her clit as I continued, "Now, some of you will have a smaller clitoris than Rita, and some of you will have one that is larger. It may stay behind the hood, or it may peek out. This is just the normal variation in human beings."

I let go, repositioned my fingers, and spread her again, wider this time.

"You will note that Rita's hymen is gone, but that is because Rita is sexually active. Some of you will have a hymen, and some of you will not. In fact, some of you who are virgins may find that your hymen has left for parts unknown. It is also possible that some of you who are sexually active will find that it has decided to stay, though that is rare. Rare," I hastened to add, "but not abnormal. And if you do have your hymen, be gentle with it. There is no reason to tear it in class. This can cause pain and bleeding. Then again, don't think that you can't tear it yourself at home, or that you have to treat is like an already-cracked eggshell. Just be careful, and be sober. Or keep it until sexual intercourse or some other event finally tears it. And you absolutely do not have to save it for me!" There was some laughter at this. "Well, I know, but there are always some girls who think that if they enter this class a virgin, they have to protect that like Fort Knox until I myself have sexual intercourse with her. Now, hold on to that virginity as long as you like, and if you want to give it to me, well, that's very sweet, but it's hardly required."

I attached a slim probe to the cam, spread some lube on it, and slipped it into Rita's vaginal cavity. This drew another gasp from the girl. Of course, they had all, including Rita, had probes like this inside them before, but only when visiting the gynecologist. Perhaps a couple of them had gotten a hold of probes and played around with them, but never in front of an audience. Even kinky young Rita hadn't done that.

I now found myself glancing back and forth from the sixteen-year-old's pussy, wrapped tight around the probe less than fifty centimetres (20") in front of me, to the giant projection of the same organ's insides. The whole class was staring at this, and several of them were starting to breath heavy.

"Of course, we've seen these structures before," I told them, "in pictures and video, but I wanted to show you again with Rita, and I want you to search for these same structures inside yourselves. Ah," I stopped the probe, "here is the bit of spongy tissue commonly called the G spot," I highlighted it, "and here is the cervix," another highlight. "Each of you has a probe like this in your basket. Now, I know that some of you will be used to inserting objects into the vagina, but those of you who are not, just relax. I'll help get you started."