Chapter 4

The first thing I did when I got home was take off all my clothes.

I kid you not. I guess it was because of what Carl was going through. I couldn't get out of my mind, either, his suggestion that I might get called for the program sometime, too. Scary thought!

I also remembered how comfortable it was to be nude, with nothing touching my skin but air.

Picking up Carl's shorts and shirt, I pressed my face into them, smelling his delicious scent, before dropping them back on my bed and turning to the mirror.

I looked maybe like a buxom twelve year old. Well, fortunately, Carl was not attracted to the Earth Mother or the Hollywood look. Not even the phenomenal skills of plastic surgeons could do that much for me.

I cupped my tits in my hands, lifting them. Maybe a Wonder Bra would give me cleavage, I thought. I tried to imagine getting implants but could only laugh at the idea. I'd look top heavy and everyone would be waiting for me to fall over all the time.

Sliding my hands down my sides, I felt the ripples of my ribs, and was conscious of the smoothness of my skin. Sliding my fingertips inward from my hips, I followed the line where my thighs joined my torso, down to my bashful patch of pubic hair.

I knew girls who waxed themselves so nothing would show when they wore a bikini. I heard that Marilyn even shaved her pussy bald. Me, a few clips of the scissors was usually enough, though the bathing suits I wore were anything but daring. Besides, what was wrong with hair, I wondered? Carl had hair down there.

Not that I was about to stop shaving under my arms, and my legs, I decided.

Turning away from the mirror, I reached for my after-school clothes, and then dropped them again. I was alone, so why shouldn't I be nude? I thought about drawing the curtains, but liked the sun spilling in, and the fresh air, so I just sat down at my desk and pulled out the brochure Carl had given me, hoping to find something in there that would convince daddy to let me go to the dance with Carl even though Carl would be naked.

I was surprised at how comprehensive the program was! While nudity at school was the only mandatory provision, there were a number of suggestions that reached beyond those brick walls. Nudity on the streets was not only permitted but encouraged, and every effort was made to encourage family participation, as well. Nudity around the home was strongly encouraged, not only for those taking direct part in the program but for parents and siblings as well!

I wondered if Carl's sister or mom were taking part. And what if I was chosen for the program, would daddy walk around the house naked? I had a lot of trouble with that image! Which, I thought, might be an indication that I needed the program; that my family needed the program.

A flicker of motion out of the corner of my eye drew my attention to the window. I realized with a jolt that the boy next door was looking in my direction - looking at me, as I sat there nude at my desk! For a second, I was upset, trying to shield my breasts with the brochure in my hands.

Then I realized how silly that was. Here I was, trying to cover myself with a brochure about a program designed to foster openness and comfort with the naked body!

I went back to my reading, while, at the same time, keeping an eye on what was going on next door. I saw him raise a pair of binoculars to his eyes, and realized that was the motion that had caught my attention. He was just trying to get a better look! If he saw me in front of the mirror a minute ago he must have gotten a real eyeful!

Actually, he probably couldn't have seen too much. I'd had my back to the window, and it was shadowy there, too. He could see more here, but I was sideways to the window. I wondered if I had the nerve to give him a better look.

It went against so much of my upbringing! Then I thought of Carl, and Karen, and the other kids in the program, and what they were going through.

They weren't just being spied on from next door. Everyday they went to school knowing they were literally going to strip naked and walk through crowded hallways, sit naked in class rooms, even be the subject of classroom instruction the way Carl had in French and even math class.

Karen was letting guys touch her breasts and her pussy, even slip their fingers up in her vagina, right there in the hallway. Carl was getting masturbated in front of a whole class! And here I was, afraid, or ashamed, of being seen by a twelve year old in a house thirty or forty feet away.

Putting the brochure down on my desk, I got up and went across the room like I was going to get something. My path took me toward the window, but not straight at it, and I didn't look in its direction.

But I have good peripheral vision. I could see the kid tracking me with his binoculars, and he had to be getting an eyeful. He could see me probably from mid thigh on up. Everything! My nipples stiffened at the thought.

Once I was out of his sight I stopped, and waited a few moments, before turning and crossing back to my desk. This time he was getting a perfect view of my backside.

Back at my desk, I sat down and picked up the brochure again, swiveling my chair toward the window. Rocking back, I put my feet up on the desk, in the direction of my watcher, crossing my ankles. I knew he was looking right up along the line of my legs, up my torso, looking at my bare breasts. A quick glance down confirmed that my nipples were definitely enjoying the attention!

Truthfully, my whole body was! Oh, I was scared, and blushing, but I liked the idea of being looked at, too. Maybe there's just a little bit of exhibitionist in all of us, I thought.

The next step was a little harder, though. All my life I'd been taught to be ashamed of what I had "down there." I couldn't help wondering where that had come from, because I didn't remember any specific lessons. Maybe it was the subtle message that girls sat primly, with their legs together, their skirts down.

Taking a deep breath, I uncrossed my ankles, and let one leg trail down on the floor, while the other was still up on my desk. By spreading my leg further I opened my crotch wide to the kid across the way.

Daring myself to be even bolder, I reached down and scratched myself, right at the top edge of my pussy hair. I was even toying with the idea of diddling myself.

Then I realized, something felt wrong about this whole scene. The program wasn't about spying on or being spied on through windows, like some cheap peep show. It was about openness, about accepting the human body, and I felt ashamed.

But what could I do? How could I change the situation?

When I thought of that, my mouth went dry, because I knew the answer. It would take more courage than I ever thought I had, but I had to break out of this straightjacket of conventionality I was trapped in!

Getting up from my chair I walked straight to my window. Naturally, the kid dropped the binoculars and ducked down out of sight. So, I just stood there in the window, waiting, my feet spread shoulder width apart, my hands on my hips like the Colossus of Rhodes or something.

Sure enough, the top of his head, then his eyes appeared above the sill of his window. I gestured him up, and he got up, reluctantly, obviously embarrassed at being caught.

Pointing at myself, I indicated I was going downstairs, and into the back yard.

No, I was NOT quite ready for the street yet!

Then I pointed to him, and indicated he should do the same thing. He looked shocked, but I looked insistent, and tried to look unthreatening. Finally, I turned away from the window, but he still hesitated. I waved a strong "come on!" to him, and then he moved.

Downstairs, at the back door, I hesitated a long moment, then drew in a deep breath and opened the door, stepping out on to the small back porch. From there I could just see over the fence, and I saw my audience come out his back door. He glanced over and saw me.

"Come around to the gate," I invited, indicating the way. "I'll let you in."

Looking puzzled, and wary, he followed my directions, and a few moments later I opened the gate, stepping back out of sight of the street to let him in. He hesitated, then came in.

I faced him boldly, and stuck out my hand. "Hi, I'm Beth. What's your name?"

"Uh, Larry," he answered, taking my hand limply. I gave him a firm handshake, the way daddy had taught me.

He didn't know where to look. He wanted to look at me, but he was afraid to.

Stepping back, I posed for him, intensely conscious of the feeling of being outside, with the cool, fresh air touching me, the sun warming my shoulders and flank. "It's all right to look," I assured him, turning slowly.

He just stood there, gaping until I had finished my turn and was facing him again. "Wow!" he breathed. "You're naked!"

"Uh huh," I agreed. "And you're not."

"Uh, no," he admitted.

"But that's okay," I assured him. "You don't need to get naked, I don't mind."

"Oh. Okay." He kept staring, and I could see a bulge in his pants, so I was having some effect on him. "You're beautiful!"

"Thank you! Would you like to sit down? Can I get you a soda or something?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so. Uh, why are you naked?"

I led him to the patio furniture. "Because I like it. It's comfortable. Here, sit down and I'll get your soda."

I left him there and ducked into the house. I was back with a frosty glass for him.

"I've never seen a real, live naked girl before," he admitted.

"Like what you see?" I asked.

"Yeah! Uh - how old are you?"

"Fifteen," I admitted. "But I don't really think I look it. How old are you?"

"Ten, but people say I look older."

"You do, a bit."

"Would you - walk around a bit?"

"Sure." I was tingling all over. I stepped off the patio and walked around the yard, feeling sun and wind on my body. Then, on an impulse, I took a few hops and did a cart wheel.

I'd had a few gymnastics lessons, though I was too afraid to compete or do anything fancy. At one time I'd been able to walk on my hands, and I wondered if I still could.

I wasn't very good at it, but I managed to get upside down for a few moments anyway, then I started to fall over backwards. Remembering my training, I ducked my head and rolled, popping to my feet with a little hop that made my tits jiggle.

Then I realized I had gotten grass clippings all over my back. "Would you brush me off, please?" I asked, returning to him and turning my back. I felt his hands flicking them off my shoulders and back.

"My bottom, too, please?"

When he finished, I was tingling even more as I turned to face him. "Thanks."

"You've, uh, got some on your - uh - chest," he pointed out.

"Do I? Could you brush those off, too?"

His fingers brushed my titties and my nipples stiffened. "Thanks."

Then we heard his mom calling. "I'd better get home," he announced. "Thanks for the soda. Uh - can I look again?"

"As much as you want," I told him. "And if you want me to come over some time, just - oh, I don't know - put a sign in your window or something. And maybe if I'm not busy you can come over for a soda again some time."

"Will you be naked?"

"As much as I can be," I assured him, sticking my hand out. "Nice to meet you, Larry."

"Nice to meet you - uh - Beth, is it?"

"Beth, I assured him. "Bye!"

"Bye."

Back in the house I heaved a sigh of relief, proud of myself for what I'd done, then hurried up to my room to get at my homework, not bothering to dress as I sat down at my desk.

"Come in," I called when my mom knocked on my door.

"Hi, honey. Oh! You don't have anything on!"

I swung around. "Uh, no. I got home, and then I got distracted." Then I scolded myself for lying. "No, that's not true," I admitted. "I was just so comfortable without any clothes on, I decided to stay that way a while."

"Oh! Well. I see." She seemed only a little unsettled.

"Did you get one of these?" I waved the brochure with its picture of a naked teen-age boy and girl on the cover. "It's from school."