Chapter 5

As you know if you read Carl's report on his week naked in school, when he met my parents he carried the day, or evening, as the case may be, winning over daddy, and charming mom. The only surprise was the way mom punctured daddy's hypocrisy by reminding of his own libidinous (don't you just love that word?) response to their teen-age skinny dipping.

I'd known, of course, that they'd been childhood sweethearts. They'd grown up in a rural area, on neighboring farms, and we still visit my grammy and grampy Finch there. But when she reminded him of how they'd gone skinny dipping in a neighbor's pond when she'd been my age, and that he'd gotten an erection at the sight of her! Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather!

I tried to imagine it, and then kind of wished I hadn't. Children really shouldn't be exposed to their parents' sex lives! But if I just thought of it the right way, it was really sweet, actually - kind of romantic, even. I couldn't help wondering if they'd done more than just look, of course, but quickly shut that train of thought off. Like I say, that's not for kids to know about their parents!

Or for parents to know about their kids, come to think of it; at least not the carnal details.

After I said goodnight to Carl on the porch there was the usual family post mortem, with both of them assuring me they found Carl very nice. Daddy wasn't totally happy, but he wanted ME to be happy, which was what I'd been counting on as the decisive factor. Like I said, he dotes on me - and I dote on him, too, I admit it! So there. It's mutual!

And that all led to the Great Dress Hunt!

But not before I'd navigated the shoals of the next day, Friday, a school day, of course, but it started late. I heard Karen got gang-banged that morning, before school. Personally I think that went well beyond the "reasonable request" scope of the program, but I guess she didn't mind it. I don't plan to get gang banged ever, unless Carl is the Gang of One that does it! And certainly not before lunch time! I am not a morning person.

Carl, of course, was as excited as I was about going to the dance. I got to relieve him twice, as you may know. Both times I did it on my knees in front of the whole class. Both times I collected his cum all over my blouse and skirt. I went through the day stained with his semen, and I was very proud of it.

I agree with Carl, too, about the afternoon assembly. Why were only the girls up there? There were at least three boys who'd spent the entire week naked, but girls were all that was up there on stage!

It wasn't right, and I intend to write a strongly worded letter to the management regarding this inequity.

After I graduate, of course. I feel it is better not to bite the hand that holds your diploma and college recommendations, after all!

Anyway, come the end of the school day and there was the usual stampede for the exits. Carl, unfortunately, had band practice - nude! I wish I'd had the chance to see it, but The Great Dress Hunt was on! Mom picked me up and we were off to the biggest mall around.

"And what have you got all over your clothes?" she asked as I got in the car.

Okay, I blushed. "Uh, I had an accident in chem lab?" I alibied.

"Oh, really?"

I don't think she believed me. First of all, she knew we always wear enough safety equipment to walk through fire. And, secondly, I am very meticulous in chem class. I'm the one who always gets picked to refill the reagent bottles under the hood, because I never spill.

"I read the brochure, you know," mom added.

"Did you!" I responded brightly.

That was all that was said. Like I said, it's best if parents and children remain essentially ignorant of the details of each others' carnal doings.

Never let it be said that I enjoy shopping, because believe me, I DON'T. I particularly hate clothes shopping. Which, I suppose, explains my limited wardrobe.

Mom doesn't usually rag on me, but she did this time, about the state of my clothes - the ones I was wearing at that moment, that is.

"Maybe we should stop by the house and you could change," mom dithered.

"It's too far to go back now," I pointed out. "Let's just get this over with. You know how I feel about shopping."

"Well, I don't like it either, dear," mom reminded me. "But you don't have a thing to wear to the dance."

She was right, I didn't. But I really hate shopping! I get claustrophobic in those changing rooms. And getting in and out of clothes in those places is a real nuisance, you must agree.

As we cruised the lot looking for a parking space, I was a bit surprised to see a couple of girls from school heading for the entrance wearing nothing more than a smile and shoes. I guess the program was really taking hold. I even saw a mother/daughter pair, both topless, heading in! At this rate, half the town would be walking around naked by the end of next week.

"Oh, just look at your clothes," mom observed for the umpteenth time as I got out of the car.

Looking down at myself, I had to admit she had a point. It looked like my milk carton had exploded on me at lunch time.

"Can't we go home so you can change?" she pleaded.

"We're here now. Let's get it done!"

"But you're such a - a mess!"

I looked around, looked down at myself, looked around again. "All right, I'll do something about it!"

A flick of my fingers had my skirt unbuttoned and unzipped and it dropped around my ankles. Stepping out of it, I tossed it in the car, leaving me in just my blouse and panties.

"Oh my," mom murmured. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"It's legal. I saw two girls from school going in with less than this on," I pointed out as I unbuttoned my blouse.

"Well, I did, too, but I'm not as brave as they are, or you are, I guess," mom admitted.

My hands were shaking. I have to admit, I was not exactly sure of this myself, but cum stains on my clothes made me look like a total slut, I had to admit, so I thought it might be less embarrassing to be semi-nude. And look at it from the point of efficiency. By getting down to the essentials - my panties, in this case, it was going to save a lot of dressing and undressing as I tried things on! And who needed a changing room, either?

"You didn't wear a bra this morning?" Mom sounded astonished as I shed my shirt.

"No bra," I assured her. I tossed my blouse in with my skirt and closed the door. It locked automatically, really separating me from my clothes, unless mom clicked the un-locker on her key ring. "Let's go." I strode off a lot more confidently than I felt.

Then, as we crossed the parking lot, I realized that the thing I was most ashamed of was my tacky, very plain, somewhat baggy, utilitarian cotton panties.

I almost wished I'd taken them off, too.

Almost.

Inside, the mall was, as usual, thronging with shoppers, mostly women and mall-rat kids, with some elderly couples and men who particularly gave me the eye.

I tried to ignore their gazes, walking proudly, my titties jiggling as we headed, as usual, for the least expensive shops first. I was conscious of the looks I was getting, and the feeling of the air on my bared tits and tummy. My underpants felt confining and uncomfortable.

A sign at the store entrance informed us that for each member of a group that was topless the store would give 10 per cent off, 20 per cent off for full nudity. I wondered what they did if a party of ten came in naked, give a rebate?

Then I read the fine print, where it said "up to 30 per cent maximum." Oh well, free was a bit too much to expect, I guess. If mom went topless, then, and I dispensed with my panties we'd get the maximum discount.

I pointed this out to mom, and she blushed. "Oh, I don't think so."

Knowing we weren't likely to buy anything here anyway, I didn't push the issue.

If you think it's easy to find a prom dress when you're a size 0.5 (well, okay, I exaggerate, but not by much), think again! There wasn't a thing that would fit me in the juniors or misses sections, of course, or the junior petites. I needed a "midgets" section.

Try the children's section, you say? Children, I would like to point out, do not usually go to homecoming dances.

We went by Victoria's Secret just as a lark and I tried on a couple of bras, but decided the look was not for me. I looked, pinched, squeezed, up thrust and in-pressed, sort of like two oranges trying to masquerade as grapefruit or something.

I skinned off my underpants with the intention of trying on some sexy panties, but the saleslady pointed out that if I tried them on I had to buy them. Something about health regulations, apparently, so I put the lacey dainties back.

Mom asked if I was going to put my own panties back on.

I looked at them distastefully. "No," I decided, stuffing them into mom's purse.

"Oh my," was all mom could say as I led the way out of the shop, nude but for my shoes and socks.

An hour and a half later we were forced to admit that we were stumped. The only nice dresses were so big they looked like they'd been fitted to me by Omar the Tent Maker. The few that fit had all the stylishness of something worn by Minnie Mouse.

But I did get a free soda at the food court for being nude. As we sat there, sipping our drinks I contemplated the situation. When I moaned "I have nothing to wear," I wasn't exaggerating.

Mom ticked off shops on the mall map she'd picked up, as I answered, "Been there, been there, been there," with monotonous regularity, stirring my soda with the straw.