Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Beth Naked in School

   by peregrinf

   Copyright(c) 2010 by peregrinf

   ------ Description: Part 3 of the Carl NIS series.  It is best to read
Carl NIS first, then Carl NIS - Beth's Story second, then this one.  Beth
helped Carl being naked in school, and now it is her turn.  What will he
do? She's not as shy, now, and isn't about to be bullied.  But what a pep
rally, and after the football game.
Codes: mf ff cons rom reluc les het span gang 1st oral mastrb pett exhib
voy teach sch

   ------



   ------

   Chapter 1

   Tuesday, three days after Carl and I had gone to the homecoming dance,
insanity struck again.  Mom and daddy and I were having dinner, (meatloaf,
French cut string beans, steamed carrots, and chocolate pudding for dessert
- yum!) when the words popped out of my mouth.

   "I want you to sign me up for the program." I toyed with my carrots, not
looking at either of them.

   "Oh my," mom said softly.

   Daddy choked on a bite of carrot, and I thought for a moment I'd have to
Heimlich him.

   "You what?!" he managed do wheeze out after a few minutes.

   "You put me on the 'will not participate list, ' didn't you?" I asked.

   "Well, yes, we did," daddy admitted reluctantly.  He, I should mention,
was still getting over the fact that I'd gone to the homecoming dance
naked, with Carl, my boyfriend, who was also naked, because he, Carl that
is, not daddy, had been required to (go naked that is) because he, Carl,
was in the program that week.

   Boy pronouns can get messy!

   I should mention that mom had broken the news about my state of dress,
or the lack thereof, to daddy after Carl and I had left for the dance, and
then had used her feminine wiles to keep daddy from riding to my "rescue."

   And I'll go no farther down that road, thank you very much!  Though I
will admit I noticed their sheets were in the laundry the next day, only
about a week early!

   Anyway, even by Tuesday, daddy was still not completely reconciled to
his "baby" having shown all at the homecoming dance.

   "I don't want to be any different than the rest of the kids in school,"
I explained quietly, looking at him.

   "But not all of them are going to be taking part," he argued.

   "By the time the program is completed, most of them will have taken
part," I pointed out.  Stephanie, in fact, was in the program this week,
poor thing.  It was an awful strain on her, I knew, even though Carl and I
made a point to include her in our walks between classes when we could, and
had lunch with her.

   On the other hand, it was doing her good.  For one thing, she'd said
that morning that she was making a serious effort to lose some weight, even
though Carl and I insisted she needn't do that.  She was always going to be
a big girl, but getting rid of the roll at her tummy was a Good Thing, we
all agreed.

   "I might point out," mom observed wryly, "that going to the dance naked
has already - uhm - made you stand out?"

   "That's the whole point!" I complained.  "I set myself apart by doing
that, while you set me apart by putting me on the short list of those who
aren't permitted to take part in the program."

   Mom thought this over.  "She has a point, Arthur.  A twisted point, but
a point."

   "I've always been different," I reminded them.  "I'm in the top of the
class.  That alone is bad enough.  I'm not pretty."

   "You are pretty.  You have always been pretty, and I think maybe
Saturday night has changed some opinions around school about that!" daddy
retorted, obviously less than pleased.

   "I'm not popular," I plunged on.

   "Popularity is not everything.  Top of the class is good!  Different is
good!  And you've got Carl," daddy pointed out.

   "And I bet your appearance at the dance has gained you some popularity,
too," mom added.

   "Not always the kind I want," I grumbled, thinking of the teasing and
snide comments I'd gotten from some people, especially the girls.  Most of
them were unhappy because now their boyfriends wanted them to go to the
next dance naked.  Even worse, their boyfriends were hitting on me to go
with them to the next dance naked - I mean ME naked, going with them to the
next dance.  Oh, whatever, you get the idea.

   A few have even volunteered to be naked, too.

   Very few.

   Anyway, by the time we got to the chocolate pudding, they'd given in and
agreed to request that I be chosen.

   They must have made the call the next day, because I discovered the next
Monday I'd made the top of the list.  I found this out, of course, by being
called to the principal's office to undress.

   I hadn't known it was coming so soon.  I'd dressed that morning in my
nicest school clothes - my best white, button down, oxford cloth, short
sleeved shirt and pleated plaid skirt, penny loafers and white socks.

   But I was not quite as nerdy as I was prior to the dance, I admit. 
Underneath my nerdy best I had worn my newest underwear - a lacy bra - not
because I needed a bra, but because it was lacy and nice - and lace
panties, courtesy of a return trip to Victoria's Secret, and no, I did NOT
do the mall naked again!  I went with Carl and he even helped me pick them
out!

   Of course I wore them for Carl, even though I didn't plan on him seeing
my frillies until, maybe, just maybe, after school.

   Just in case, that was.

   Maybe.

   I know, we did some hot and heavy things Saturday after the dance, but
we were both under the influence of the evening.  We'd talked about it
since and vowed to try to cool things down before we went Too Far, if you
know what I mean.  Anyway, I felt good knowing I was wearing something sexy
under my dull outer layers, that there was a butterfly within this
caterpillar.

   Anyway, by Monday I had sort of half forgotten the whole issue of being
naked in school, being engrossed in a paper for Chem over the weekend, as
well as Carl, of course.  But here it was, less than a week after I'd set
the dominoes tumbling, I found myself in the principal's office.

   "Take your clothes off, Miss Finch," the principal ordered, indicating
the box on the floor beside me.  Two security guards watched, as required
by the rules.  As I fumbled with the buttons on my blouse, I could only ask
myself how I had gotten myself into this.

   I knew perfectly well, of course.  I'm not senile yet.  Though I was
thinking I had to have been demented when I set this in motion.

   I hadn't expected it to be the next week!  Now, that is!  I hadn't known
it was coming this day, and I was not ready for it.  I'd had no warning,
I'd been taken straight to the principal's office the moment I'd entered
school, just the way all the others were handled.

   I hadn't even prepared Carl for this, figuring I had a week or two to
figure out the best way to break the news.  This morning I'd been spirited
away from him without a word of explanation, though I suspect he knew what
was happening.  But what was he going to say when he saw me naked in
school?

   I was remembering, too, the demands the program made on the participants
- how we had to obey any reasonable requests from teachers and fellow
students.  Karen had set the bar pretty high that first week when she'd
been chosen, letting herself be felt up in the hallways, and even
submitting to a gang bang, and before school, no less, on Friday, her last
day.

   Oh God!  I didn't have to go that far, did I?  While Carl and I had
masturbated each other, and he'd eaten me to the best climax of my short
life, we were both still virgins, and I wanted my first time to be with
him, and no one else.

   I wondered if maybe we should move the timetable for that next Big Step
up a bit.

   I dropped my shirt in the box without even bothering to fold it neatly,
fighting the urge to cover my lace encased breasts with my hands.  If only
I'd worn my dull old bra.  Or even gone bra-less!  This one molded to my
breasts, and you could even see the shadow of my nipples through the lace.

   I hurriedly dispensed with it, feeling more comfortable with bare
breasts than I did with that seductive covering.

   "Who else is taking part this week?" I asked nervously, trying to keep
my voice steady as I dealt with the zipper of my skirt, conscious of the
way my nipples had stiffened.

   "We're not at liberty to tell you that," the principal answered.  "The
identity of participants is not revealed until they leave the office where
they are being orientated."

   "Orientated," in this context, meant "stripped naked."

   And how dumb did he think the students were, anyway?  These days there
was only one reason students were summoned to the offices first thing on a
Monday morning.  They went in clothed, and came out naked, and everyone
knew it.  Word quickly got around about who had been summoned, and there
was always a feeding frenzy outside the offices, as a result.

   As a summonee, however, I was suddenly out of the loop.

   My skirt followed my shirt and bra, and I flushed as the principal and
the guards saw my lacy panties.

   At least I'd worn bikini cut ones, rather than the even more revealing
thongs I'd also bought!  Still, they hugged my bottom and my pussy.  I'd
looked at myself in the mirror that morning and knew perfectly well that
the shadow of my pussy hair showed through the lace.

   My face got hot.

   So much for my image as miss goody two-shoes, the teachers' dream
student, never disruptive, always well prepared for class, eager to
volunteer.

   Myself (my evil twin, that is) cackled wickedly, and promised that we
were going to have some fun this week!

   Oh dear.

   Blushing furiously, I skinned my panties down and stepped out of them,
trying not to reveal any more of myself than I had to as I did.

   In the box they went, leaving me in my penny loafers, white ankle length
socks, the gold cross on the fine gold chain around my neck, eyeglasses,
and scrunchy pony tail tie, reading from bottom to top, as it were.

   Notice the wide gap between ankles and neck.

   In fact, I was wearing less than I'd worn to the dance.

   No gold ribbon in my pussy hair, for one thing.

   I felt very, very, very naked and made a reflexive and totally ludicrous
effort to hide my breasts and pussy with arm and hand.

   I also tried to listen to the little speech the principal was giving me,
I really did, but all I could think of was that in about two minutes
everyone would be seeing the real me, and Carl was going to know that I was
going to be naked in school for the next week!

   I suppose you're thinking it's only right.  After all, hadn't he
undergone the same ordeal just week before last?

   Well yes, he had.  But sometimes I think maybe this whole sexual
equality thing should be rethought.  Especially by yours truly, me.

   I shivered, goose bumps breaking out all over.

   The principal was saying something about if I got my period, and I
desperately reviewed my calendar in my mind, and heaved a sigh of relief.
At least I wouldn't be walking around with a tampon string dangling from me
like some sort of a fuse or rip-cord!  Ick!

   "Any questions, Miss Finch?" the principal asked, in a tone that
indicated he was repeating the question in an effort to penetrate my dazed
brain.

   I'd read the manual when Carl had been on the spot - same manual for
boys and girls - practically memorized it, in fact.  No secrets between the
sexes any longer.  "Uh, nosir," I assured him.  "No questions."

   He was, I couldn't help noticing, enjoying the sight of me.  "I'm sure,"
he went on, "you will comport yourself with dignity and good humor.  So
far, the ladies, and the gentlemen, have performed admirably.  I'm sure
you'll do fine."

   "Yessir," I agreed, feeling a dazed numbness settle over me like a fog.

   "Time to go, Miss Finch, or you'll be late for your first class," he
announced cheerily.  "Your clothes will be awaiting you outside the North
Entrance.  When you come to school the rest of this week you will disrobe
there before entering the building, placing your clothes in the drop box,"
he reminded me.

   "Yessir." Dazed, I turned toward the door.

   I emerged to a wave of applause and whistles, and the sight of Carl in
the front row.  His expression?  Well, that's hard to say.  He was glad to
see me, and he obviously was GLAD to SEE ME, as the bulge in his jeans made
perfectly obvious.

   What's that old joke?  Is that a banana in your pocket, or are you glad
to see me?

   On the other hand, I could see, too, that he was less than ecstatic at
the idea of having to share me with the rest of the student population for
the rest of the week.  And how would he react the first time I had to
respond to a "reasonable request" from someone?

   "Hi," I greeted him shyly, chewing my lower lip to ribbons.

   "Hi." He took my hand, when what I really wanted was him to wrap his arm
around me.  "You okay?"

   I shivered again.  "I'll live, I think." The bell rang.  "I've got to
get to Chem class."

   "See you in French," he assured me, handing me my book bag.  He'd even
insisted on carrying my books to school, the silly romantic!

   "You sure will," I managed to joke as we parted and I joined the herd. I
noticed that some went out of their way to void bumping into me, while
others seemed to take every opportunity for contact with some portion of my
naked anatomy.

   I was scared and embarrassed, but there was one other feeling I can't
deny, no matter how hard I tried.

   I was horny.

   Horny, horny, horny.

   I admit, that was a word I'd not really known the meaning of until I'd
first kissed, really kissed, Carl, that evening we'd taken a walk, him
naked and me clothed.

   Now, for the next week, it was me naked and him clothed.

   Then, at the dance we'd danced naked, and afterwards, at home, we'd
necked naked, and petted naked, and he'd - he'd eaten me out naked, and I'd
- well, I'd had an orgasm that topped any I'd ever had before, which wasn't
many anyway.

   But now that I knew what an orgasm could be, well, okay, I confess, I
wanted more.  And here I was, a walking, naked invitation to every horny
male in school, plus a few females who were - uh - differently inclined,
and I wasn't sure I'd could turn them all down!

   Oh God.  Already I felt my pussy threatening to burst into tears.

   After two weeks of the program, people were getting a bit more used to
seeing students naked.  I was greeted in my first period Chem class with
snickers from some of the few girls in the class, with whistles and
applause from the boys, but that was it.

   Chemistry, at least, was not a class where the teacher would use me for
a live demonstration.  I heard that Karen's adventures in her bio class had
been - uh - tres outre, as the French might say, complete with whips,
chains and butt plugs!

   Trying to ignore the ogling, I lowered myself into my seat, and winced
at the chill.  I will say that if this program continues they really must
do something about the chairs.  They are COLD!

   What's worse, after you've sat in one for a while there's a tendency to
stick to it.  Maybe they could issue participants cushions to carry around
with them.  As it is, the academic world is simply not properly furnished
for this program!

   Mercifully, the teacher decided on a lab session, which meant I could
don a lab jacket which, on me, came to mid-thigh.  It wasn't much, but it
was better than nothing, as long as I was careful.  If I had to pick
something up off the floor or get it down from a high shelf I'd give a
show, no doubt.

   The way the air toyed with my naked pussy and butt, though, was a
constant reminder of my nakedness beneath the jacket.  Also, it was rough,
starchy cotton, rougher even than my usual shirts, and it scraped my
nipples, bringing them to a constant stated of erection.  After a while it
felt like my titties were ablaze.

   Believe me, even with that jacket on I was extra careful as I handled
things like sulfuric acid!  I had to concentrate extra hard, too, because
one part of my mind wouldn't stay off my next class, which was French, with
Mademoiselle Duclos.

   What if she used me the way she had used Carl, for another of her slang
vocab lessons?  Would she stand me up in front of the whole class naked
while she named the exposed parts of my anatomy?

   I'd die!

   When the bell ending chemistry rang, I shivered as I slipped off the lab
coat, baring myself once again.  I'd been so distracted by my worries and
the simple mechanics I'd not paid any attention at all to the lessons, and
Chem was my toughest subject!

   If this kept up my grades would plunge.

   Well, my evil twin noted, that would be one way to fit in better around
here.

   Not at the expense of my education, I retorted angrily.

   As I made my way through the halls I was intensely aware of every
passing glance, every look, every stare, every grin and wink.  I was
dreading the first time someone, boy or girl, came up to me and asked for a
feel.  I hunched, wanting to huddle into a ball that revealed nothing.  I
couldn't help thinking of how inadequate I was, physically - small
breasted, with not much in the way of hips, a little, barely concealing
patch of hair between my thighs.

   I wasn't skinny!  I was petite, with a little bit of an adipose layer to
soften my curves, conceal my ribs.  I just wasn't - uh - voluptuous.

   Oh, I know Carl thought I was beautiful, or at least he had told me I
was when I'd shed my coat at the dance.  But that night he'd been naked,
too, and mom had helped make the most of my limited assets.  My hair had
been done elegantly up, and she'd even made up my body.  But now, well, it
was just me.  No adornments, no makeup, nothing between me and all those
staring eyes.

   No Carl.

   "Hi!" Carl greeted me.

   "Oh, hi," I mumbled, having almost crashed headlong into him outside
Mademoiselle Duclos' classroom.

   "Are you all right?" he asked.

   I tried to say I was, but shook my head, my throat knotting up.  "No,
I'm not.  I'm naked, and everyone else is dressed."

   He touched my cheek, tipped my head up so he could look down into my
eyes.  "You're beautiful," he assured me, and he was so warm and so tender
with me that I wanted to leap into his arms.  "You'll be all right," he
insisted.  "I was all right, and you're braver than I am."

   "No I'm not," I protested.

   He wouldn't hear it.  "You are.  You went to the dance naked, when you
didn't need to.  That was brave!"

   I wanted to say it was stupid, only I knew it hadn't been.  That had
been the most wonderful night of my life!  I remembered how proudly he had
walked me to the dance floor, and felt better.  I remembered the envy in
the eyes of some of the girls as they'd studied me, the desire the boys had
shown.

   I remembered the feeling of being in his arms, and my arousal
skyrocketed.

   Down boy!  I told my libido irritably.  You're not helping things.

   "Let's go," Carl said, gently urging me through the door.

   "But what if she..."

   "If she does, she does," he answered.  "Try to enjoy it.  Go with the
flow."

   God bless the state!  I was spared humiliation by a special study
session for the standardized tests we had coming up in a week.  Oh, I was
still naked, but at least I was at my desk, not on display.

   And I did NOT volunteer for ANYTHING!  Not one answer!  I wasn't about
to do anything to draw attention to myself.  Besides, all I had to do was
breathe, or shift in my chair to do that.  I was such a distraction I felt
badly for the other kids, but what could I do?

   From French it was on to math, with Carl escorting me.  And it was then
that I got the next big shock of the day, partly because my mind was more
on the feel of Carl next to me, warm and comforting as I clutched his arm
to my naked breast.

   He was telling me something about the first day being the worst, and I
was trying to believe him, when he broke off that thought.  "Uh oh ...  You
are not going to believe this!"

   "What?" I looked up, and caught sight of what I thought for a moment was
a bear walking on its hind legs ahead of us.  Then I realized it was the
back of a very hairy, very naked male student.  The only place he wasn't
very hairy were the pale white cheeks of his ass.  Something about that
shape, and all that hair made me think of...

   "OhmyGod!  Is that...  ?"

   "Freschetti," Carl said softly in amazement.

   "He's in the program?!" I whispered, afraid the subject of our comments
might hear us.

   "Either that, or someone has shaved a bear's butt and trained it to
carry books," Carl suggested.

   "Oh wow!" My own troubles were forgotten.  Poor Freschetti!  He'd
already humiliated himself in math class when Carl had done his stint
naked, the same class we were now walking to.  Mr.  F.  had made a
derogatory comment about Carl's genital endowments, which, incidentally,
are more than adequate, visually and tactilely (the only experience I have
with them - so far).

   Unfortunately for Mr.  F., the teacher, Miss Gallison, had overheard and
had made Freschetti bare his equipment to the class.  He was thus exposed
as one of the lesser endowed males in school.  Now Freschetti was showing
everyone in school how the great jock had a penis no one could envy!

   I didn't need to see his face to know what his expression probably was.
Something out of a slasher movie comes to mind.  There was a space at least
two yards radius that no one would venture into as he moved down the center
of the hallway, stiff legged, muscles bulging, fists balled.  You could see
the crowd parting ahead of him, pressing back against the walls.  There was
finger pointing, whispers and titters once he passed them, but not before.

   "Oh wow," I repeated.  Even though Freschetti was the worst male
chauvinist pig in school, even though he was a bully and had been a thorn
in Carl's side during Carl's week on display, I felt a wave of sympathy for
the big ape.

   "It's going to be an interesting week," Carl observed softly as we
followed Freschetti to Miss Gallison's classroom.  Carl politely ushered me
through the door, into a deafening silence as Freschetti made his way to
his desk in the back row.  I tried to be as unobtrusive as possible as I
went to my seat (front row center, of course) and Carl peeled off to his
third row venue.

   There was the sound of desks and chairs being scraped over the floor
behind me.  I didn't need to look back to know that Freschetti's neighbors
were trying to distance themselves from him.

   I couldn't tell if Miss Gallison had a twinkle in her eye as she looked
Freschetti over or not.  For me she offered what I took to be a sympathetic
smile, though.  And, perhaps, even an appreciative look?  I felt a little
qualm, worrying that she might hit on me, then chided myself for even
thinking it.

   Oh, sure, she's gay.  Everyone knows that.  But she's in a committed
relationship with a woman who works in the school office, and has never, to
my knowledge, ever made a play

   for a student.  I wish I could say the same for some of the male
faculty. I was not looking forward to History class!

   Then the bell rang and class began.

   "Ah, Mr.  Freschetti," Miss Gallison began, "are you in need of relief?"

   "No," he grunted.  I hadn't realized a monosyllable could be so short -
sort of like a mathematical point, if you know what I mean.

   "Very well, perhaps you'd like to come up and put the solution to the
first problem in today's homework up on the board, please, Mr. 
Freschetti?" she asked.

   Oh dear.  She was not going to cut him an inch of slack, I could see
that!

   There was a breathless hush as I, along with everyone else, waited for
some sort of explosion.  I didn't see anyone on either side of me looking
back to see how Freschetti was taking this.  None of us dared!

   Then I heard his chair go back, and the entire room seemed to heave a
sigh of relief.

   His sneakers squeaked on the floor as he made his way to the front of
the classroom, brushing my arm as he passed me.

   I flinched.

   Holding his notebook in one hand, he picked up a marker and began
setting the problem out on the white board in his usual primitive scrawl,
keeping his back resolutely to the class as he did.

   Even the crack of his ass was hairy!  Ick!

   Tearing my eyes off his hirsute body, I studied his work on the board,
and groaned silently.  He'd made an elementary mistake in the second line,
and from there everything else simply went farther and farther awry.

   Finishing, he turned to face the class, holding his notebook defensively
in front of his crotch.  Miss Gallison gave him a long, hard look.  After
she cleared her throat, he flinched, and dropped the notebook to his side,
flushing as he did.

   The rules did not allow him to cover himself with anything, and he knew
it.

   Not that there was much to hide.

   If he'd been blushing any harder everyone in the first four rows would
have gotten a lethal dose of radiation.  As it was, I swore off any X-rays
for the next year.

   Miss Gallison gave a sigh.  "Would anyone care to come up and critique
Mr.  Freschetti's work?"

   Now, I must tell you, I tried.  I really, really tried.  I even sat on
my hands!  But it was to no avail.  The silence went on and on, and that
little demon inside me refused to be thwarted.  It could not bear the
silence.

   My hand went up, sort of like a rusty puppet's, in fits and starts.

   "Yes, Miss Finch?"

   I tried to stay in my seat.  "Uh, there's an error in the second line, I
believe?" I ventured timidly.

   Miss Gallison held out her marker.  "Would you care to come up and show
us, please?"

   Oh God, no.  Not me, up there, naked, in front of the whole class,
pointing out - pointing out Freschetti's error to him while he stood there,
right beside me, just as naked and vulnerable and embarrassed and exposed
as I was.  Please no!  I was an instant Popsicle, icy fear-sweat breaking
out all over my naked body.

   Miss Gallison cocked an eyebrow expectantly at me, and I managed to pry
myself out of my seat, my bottom flesh parting from the molded plastic seat
with a tearing sound.

   I moved up beside him, and I could feel the heat radiating from him. 
I'm not sure what sitting next to a working nuclear reactor would feel
like, but this was as close as I ever want to get to that experience,
believe me!

   As gently as I could, I nudged him aside so I could get to the white
board and fix his mistake.  His skin was hot, and I realized he was the
second naked boy I'd touched in less than a week.  If I'd had a choice, it
would have been someone else.  I'm not sure who, but anyone but him.

   I was terrified as I explained where he'd gone wrong and fixed the
error.

   He never moved.  Never twitched.  It was as if he were made of stone -
lava - as I went down through the rest of the problem, carrying through the
correction to the end.

   I was so concerned about Freschetti, I almost forgot that I, too, was
naked as a jaybird up there in front of the whole class.

   Almost.

   Once I was done, it took everything I had to turn to face all those
people, showing them everything I had.  I had no secrets from them any
more. They could see the mole on my left breast, just below the nipple. 
There was another, low on my tummy, just above my little patch of hair.

   That little patch of hair.  It wasn't very big, and there wasn't very
much of it.  I knew my labia showed through it.  Insanely, I wished I'd
taken the time to comb it before I'd emerged from the principal's office.

   "Very good, Miss Finch," Miss Gallison complimented me.  I saw Carl give
me a "thumbs up" gesture and an encouraging smile.

   I couldn't help wondering - was he hard?  How many of the other boys
were hard?  It gave me a strange sense of power to realize I might be
having that effect on the whole male population of the room.

   I handed the marker back to Miss Gallison and went to my place, heaving
a silent sigh of relief as I sank down into my seat.  I wanted to put my
head down on my desk, but Miss Gallison kept a supply of small, hard rubber
erasers at hand to deal with students given to sleeping in class.  Playing
third base on her college softball team she had picked off runners at first
with ease, so nailing a dozing student, even in the back row, was a duck
shoot for her, as Freschetti knew all too well.

   Freschetti still hadn't moved.  I wondered if he'd been turned into
stone, or maybe just entered a catatonic state.

   I felt sorry for him.  I really did!  Here was this great, hulking
athlete, star running back, Big Man On Campus, standing naked in front of
the whole class.  More humiliating than having his work corrected by me, a
girl, no less, was the blatant exposure of his less than impressive
endowments.

   Miss Gallison finally released him from his torment, and he headed back
to his seat, brushing past me again.  His groin was at about my eye level,
and I couldn't help staring at his cock, peering almost shyly from a thick
forest of black hair.

   I still wasn't sure he was hard, and that sent my mind off on another
mad tangent, wondering if anyone had ever done study of the ratio of the
size of the erect cock to its - uh - flaccid state.  Did small penises
expand proportionately more, or was there any relationship?

   It wasn't anything I was likely to be able to research in high school,
but maybe I could get a college or med school paper out of it.

   The thought of researching such a study gave me a little frisson of
excitement.

   And what government department would give a grant for such a study, do
you suppose?  Would it be the Department of Health and Human Services? 
Maybe the FDA would need a study to regulate condom sizes?

   You can see, I was already thinking like a med student.

   Well, sort of.  I will not attempt to claim that my interest was purely
academic.


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