Part II

Archie looked silly in just penny loafers and argyle socks — nude boys do not wear shoes well, the way nude girls do — but with his hard wood pointing the way down the hall, Betty didn’t feel like laughing. She salivated at the sight of his stiff dick. He was looking at her lustfully, too, with sidelong glances at her jiggly tits.

She groped for a word.

“I’ve never felt so — so—”

“Wired?”

“Alive,” she said.

But that didn’t begin to describe it. Dingy old Riverdale High felt wholly new, totally strange. The lockers, the red tile floor, the fluorescent lights, the square clock bolted to the wall — everything seemed to reach out and touch her all over. The school became her shell, an extension of her nude body.

Classes had already started. The kids were at their desks, and the corridor was empty. Archie and Betty made their way quietly, each with their books under one arm and their towel over one shoulder, and for a moment they thought they might reach Miss Grundy’s class without being seen.

No such luck.

They passed an open door just as Midge Clump, Betty’s second-best friend, happened to look up from her desk. Midge’s reaction was predictable and immediate: goggle eyes, hands to mouth, and before she could think to check herself she squealed —

“OH MY GOD THEY’RE NAKED!”

Then came the scrape of desks, the shuffle of feet, the thump of dropped books, and in an instant the doorway was jammed with teenage faces that expressed every degree of shock and derision.

“Hey Andrews! Nice cock!”

“Shake that ass!”

“Betty! Show us your pussy!”

“What the fuck!?”

The scene was repeated every few feet as doors were flung open and the noise spread from room to room like fire on a trail of kerosene.

“Suck his dick!”

“Grab her tits!”

“Whore!”

“Faggot!”

Archie took Betty’s hand. They walked slowly through the gauntlet, eyes front, ashamed but defiant.

“Just ignore them,” Archie said.

Shelter waited for them around a corner, at the far end of the endless hall. Miss Grundy, alerted by the shouting, stood outside her classroom, waving them in. Betty had never been so happy to see the old woman in her life, but when Archie began to pull ahead, she held him back, keeping them to their deliberate pace. She was determined not to show how afraid she was.

“Welcome, children,” the teacher said.

She followed them inside and closed the door.

The other kids gawked at them in silence. Miss Grundy had obviously prepared them, warning them not to react. Across the room stood pair of empty tablet chairs facing the class at right angles, their backs to the windows. So, they were to be set apart and put on display, like zoo animals. One of the chairs was even made for a leftie, a courtesy to Betty’s sinistral lifestyle. Miss Grundy had thought of everything.

The naked teens methodically spread their towels on the seats, bending over to give everyone a generous look at their butts, and sat down. But Archie couldn’t keep up the nonchalant pretense completely: his boner knocked the edge of the desktop, and he winced in pain.

Miss Grundy started talking as though their arrival had interrupted her in mid-sentence.

“Miss Cooper and Mr. Andrews were chosen for this Program for their maturity and their Riverdale spirit,” she said. “We —Principal Weatherbee and I — felt they will set an example for the rest of you when you are chosen for the Program, and, believe me, all of you will be chosen eventually.

“Now, before we get to the lesson, it is my duty to point out that Mr. Andrews has a prominent erection.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Grundy,” Archie said. “I’m sure it’ll go down if we just ignore it.”

“Nonsense,” Miss Grundy said. “A young man should not ignore his erections. The healthy thing is to ejaculate at once. Would you care for some relief?”

“What? Omigosh! Miss Grundy? You —?”

“Of course not!”

The class burst into laughter. Betty, too. Even Miss Grundy smirked, which was as close to hilarity as she ever got. It was long time before the ruckus died down and she could go on:

“Under the rules of the Program, you are entitled to masturbate in front of the class. If you prefer, one of your classmates may give you what I believe is called a ‘hand job,’ or perform fellatio on you, if she — or he — is amenable. The choice is yours.”

Betty couldn’t believe her ears. Miss Grundy talking about hand jobs and fellatio in that clipped, school-marmish way of hers was the horniest thing she’d ever heard in her life.

“Well,” Archie said, “I guess I’d like that fellatio thing.”

Gee, like he had to think about it.

“Very well,” Miss Grundy said. “Would anyone care to blow Mr. Andrews?”

Betty’s hand shot up. A tense moment later, Veronica, who was sitting in front of the chalkboard across the room, slowly raised hers.

And, once again, Archie was her lap dog.

“Veronica? Really? Wow! Sure!”

“Archie, be considerate,” Betty said. “You don’t want to get semen all over Ronnie’s nice silk blouse.”

“Gosh, I didn’t think of that.”

“I’ll take it off,” Veronica said. She began to unbutton.

Betty spied the lacy edge of a lovely black bra. For a second, she was scared. Veronica had a spectacular rack, and she was such a cock-tease that she never let Archie see it or touch it. She had actually bragged about that. The poor boy had been waiting for this moment since he was twelve. Once he got a look at those big round honkers, the contest would be over.

Miss Grundy saved the day.

“That is not permitted,” she said. “Only Program participants may take off their clothes. Cover yourself, Miss Lodge.”

“Really, Archie,” Betty said. “If you come on my tits, I can just wipe it off.”

“I won’t spill any,” Veronica said.

“You can’t be sure of that,” Betty said. “Archie’s so hard he could shoot off before you get started.”

“That’s true,” Archie said. “I guess it is better if you do it.”

“Glad to!”

“You don’t want to take a chance on ruining your clothes,” he said to Veronica. “That’s pretty nice of Betty, huh?”

“Oh, she’s a saint,” Veronica said.

Good old reliable Archie. Always the gentleman, and he never noticed when his rich bitch girlfriend was pissed off.

“All right, we’ve wasted enough time,” Miss Grundy said. “Let’s get to it.”

Archie swiveled around, threw open his knees, and slumped in his chair. His hard rod rested on his stomach, reaching all the way to his navel. His soft sack of balls dangled between his thighs.