Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Carl and Beth Do Sex Ed in Middle School

   by peregrinf

   Copyright(c) 2010 by peregrinf

   ------ Description: WARNING: CHAPTER 8 CONTAINS SOME MALE HOMOSEXUALITY.
Beth Naked in School was one of those occasions when everything fell into
place perfectly.  To maintain that quality has been slow going.  Good
writing is like that.  Sometimes it just takes time.  New readers, I
suggest you at least read Beth Naked in School.  Even better, read the
whole trilogy; in order, "Carl Naked in School", "Carl Naked in School -
Beth's Story", and "Beth Naked in School".
Codes: mf ff boy gi mm cons reluc gay les het fant bro sis safe oral
anal mastrb pett toys food exhib voy slow caution sch

   ------



   ------

   Chapter 1

   Okay.  I was pissed!

   And let me say right here, from the start, that I know I will be
enriching the penalty jar down in the kitchen throughout this narrative. 
Okay, maybe "pissed" doesn't qualify, but I'm sure to come out with the "s"
word, at the very least.

   There is no way to tell my story without resorting to certain four
letter declaratives which, when uttered in our house, earn a fine, in the
form of a quarter dropped into the big gallon jug on the kitchen counter.
By the time I'm done we'll probably be able to cash out and, as a family,
see every new release at the multiplex for a year, including individual
buckets of popcorn and mega-super sodas.

   So sue me!

   But it will be all his fault!  Which pisses me further, since I'm the
one who'll be paying.

   Life is not fair!

   Who is "he?" you ask.

   In this case, "He" is my brother.

   Who am I?

   Oh, sorry, I'm Diane Walker, known to friend and foe alike as Dee, Carl
Walker's little sister.  His LITTLE sister, who he is sworn to protect from
the insults and injuries inflicted by the cold, cruel, unfeeling world of
Middle Schoolers!

   Well, okay, maybe he's not SWORN to protect me.  But he is NOT supposed
to hold me up to ridicule in front of my classmates!

   But perhaps I should back up a little here and set the scene.  Carl, as
you may know, is four years older than I.  And how's that for correct
grammar?  Blame Beth.  She proofed one of my essays last year.

   Who is Beth?  She, of course, is Carl's Main (and almost only) Squeeze,
the only other being Stephanie, who is one of Beth's bestest friends, with
whom he, Carl that is, and Beth had a threesome one afternoon and...

   But that's another story, and you can read about that in "Beth Naked in
School," which is available in this same collection of exhibitionist
literature.

   Now, where was I.  Oh, yes.

   As I was saying, Carl and Beth, seniors in high school and graduates
last year, as juniors, of that institution's Naked in School Program, had,
in a moment of insanity, come up with the idea of teaching sex ed in my
Middle School as their community service project in their continuing
aspirations to graduate magna cum whatever from high school in their
relentless drive toward academic perfection.

   Yeah, like that sentence, they're over-achievers.  And how do you think
that makes ME feel, having to follow in their humongous footsteps?

   Anyway, today was the first day of the class, and Carl took it upon
himself to humiliate me!  To degrade and besmirch me before an audience of
my peers!

   Now let me set the scene, and I'm sorry if this narrative is so
disjointed, but it has been that kind of a day.

   It all started when I and my BFF Missy were informed that we had been
selected from our 8th grade class to be students in Carl and Beth's sex ed
class.  We few, we chosen few were to be guinea pigs.

   All we knew was that we had been selected for the class, and to report
to the conference room near the office the period before lunch.  When we
headed in we discovered they'd turned it into a sort of a classroom, with
three rows of four chairs from the cafeteria facing the conference table,
which had been shoved against the wall.

   Then a flash blinded me and I jammed to a stop.  Missy rammed into me
from behind, and there was another impact and a clatter of books and
papers, followed by a familiar nasal squawk "My glasses!  Where'd my
glasses go!" from further back.

   Chain reaction pile up.

   I didn't need to turn around to know the 6th grade nerd, Aloysius Joseph
"A.  J." Mansfield, all 4 feet 9 and 80 pounds of him, had rear ended
Missy. I heard him pawing through the debris like a near-sighted gerbil. 
He even grabbed my ankle at one point.  Without his glasses poor A.  J. 
was blind as a bat.

   "How do you feel about your brother and his girlfriend teaching sex ed?"
Marvin Brubaker asked, jamming his ever present recorder up my nose.  I was
still trying to blink away the green spots from his camera when a second
flash relapsed me.

   And how the heck did he manage that?  I knew for a fact that Marvin only
had two hands, though the few girls he'd enticed into the school's little
used dark room swore otherwise.  How they let him suck them into that black
hole left over from film days I'll never know.

   "Shove off, Marvin!  Who do you think you are, Geraldo?" The fact that I
towered over him didn't intimidate him in the least.  Of course, this year
I towered over most of the boys, having shot up a good three inches over
the summer.  Too bad the rest of my body hadn't kept up!  Last year's
incipient boobs had gone flat instead.

   "Get your pimple out of the way, dork!" People were pushing around me.
Someone grabbed my ass on the way past but my retaliatory kick missed,
twisting my ankle and making me lurch off balance for a moment.  "Outta my
way!" I managed to elbow him aside.

   "Aw, come on, Dee, gimme a statement!  I got a deadline to meet."

   "Your line will be dead if you don't stay out of my face."

   Fortunately, Ms Andrews, the health teacher, intervened before I had to
stomp Marvin into the dirt.  "Marvin Brubaker, you are not in this class."
At a scale of one to ten she only had the volume up to about two.  At half
volume it cleared hallways.  It was rumored at full volume she could drown
out a Lady Ga Ga concert.

   "No, but I..." the reporter began.

   "No 'buts' Mr.  Brubaker.  Get yourself off to where you are supposed to
be this period!" Ms Andrews had a no-nonsense manner that few dared
confront.

   After grabbing a couple more quick pictures of the couple trying to look
unobtrusive in the far corner, Marvin slithered away, while I headed for a
seat in the front row.

   The couple, Carl and his girlfriend Beth, were wrapped in silly robes.
Carl' a hunk, I admit, tall, trim, fit with a swimmer's build, while Beth
specialized in cute, petite with curves.  I was willing to bet that robes
was all they were wearing, both of them being veterans of the high school's
Naked In School Program.

   They both had nice legs.

   Even though I'd seen both in their skins more times than I could count,
this thought gave me a tingle.  This was different.  This was in front of a
dozen tweens!  Anything could happen!  After all, look what happened with
Carl at my sleepover last year!

   And for that story I refer you to "Carl Naked in School" in this library
as well.

   It looked like they'd settled for show and tell.

   Missy somehow managed to cross check her way into the chair right beside
me.  There was the usual hubbub of shuffling feet, scraping chairs, dropped
books, voices, even a raucous laugh from one of the guys in the back row.

   "All right, settle down, we're wasting time," Ms Andrews called out.

   I glanced around, scanning the faces.

   Intruder alert!  There were three boys and two girls standing
uncertainly near the door.  This class was by invitation only, a dozen
students, four each from 6th, 7th and 8th grades.

   Well, mention sex in middle school and there were bound to be
interlopers.

   No problem.  Ms Andrews's memory for faces and names was legendary.  She
never wasted time calling the roll.

   Like Annie Oakley she picked off her targets from those filling the
seats.  "Mr.  Wilcox, Mr.  Feder, and Mr.  Blake?  You don't belong here.
Nor do you, Miss Fisher, nor Miss Calder."

   To soft snickers from we chosen few the culprits rose to slink
sheepishly away, the standees taking their places.  As usual, the boys had
gravitated to the back of the room, the girls taking up the front row and
half the second.

   Ms Andrews followed the last of the interlopers to the door, closed it
behind them, and pulled down the shade, cutting off several pairs of
hopeful eyes.

   "All cell phones off!  If I see one cell phone raised in hopes of going
viral on the 'net I'll confiscate it, the class will be summarily canceled,
and you will ALL be on detention for a week." She smiled, her white teeth
very white in her very dark face.  "And these rules are not mine.  They
come from 'On High, ' if you get my drift.

   "If any pictures mysteriously appear on the internet I will shrink heads
and you will be meat on my table, if there's any left after The Powers That
Be have dined." Ms Andrews took pride in the ferocity of her African
ancestors.

   There were some groans, mingled with the twinkling tones of cells being
shut down.

   "Thank you.  Now before we begin, as you know, this is a pilot
project..."

   "Oooooh, are we gonna fly?" one of the wise guys in the back
interrupted.

   "That will be enough, Mr.  Patterson," Ms Andrews warned him.  "As you
all know, you have been specially picked for this class.  In your case, Mr.
Patterson, I'm wondering why.

   "At any rate, as such you are expected to conduct yourselves with
appropriate gravity.  There's no need to take notes.  There are no tests,
no grades.  Just listen, and learn.

   "I'll now turn the proceedings over to Beth Finch and Carl Walker, our
moderators.  As you know, they were participants in the High School Naked
In School Program last year, and this is their senior year community
service project."

   Ms Andrews stepped aside to take an empty seat in the corner near the
door.

   Carl was wired!  For some reason, which I was soon to find out, his
hands were clenched, a muscle in his cheek twitching.  His eyes drilled
holes in the back wall.  Meanwhile Beth seemed remarkably calm as they took
their places in front of the conference table.

   Beth began.  "I know you've all had the basics, but for those of you who
slept through last year's sex ed classes," this brought a nervous chuckle
from the audience, "we begin with a brief review.  This is Carl." She waved
a hand in his direction.  "He's a boy.  In case you don't believe me, I'll
have him remove his robe.  Carl, will you remove your robe, please."

   There was a nervous rustle as Carl untied the belt of his robe.  He was
still staring blindly ahead.

   Sure enough, he was stark head-to-toe naked.

   He was hot, I admit, with a swimmer's broad shoulders, well defined
pecks, trim torso and waist, well muscled legs.

   "He's my boyfriend," Beth admitted, putting on the whole bashful act,
twisting her hands together, her toes pointed in, wiggling like a nervous
freshman.

   She doesn't do bashful well.  She's smart as a whip, but not much of an
actress!

   "Isn't he gorgeous?!"

   Carl remained blank faced, staring at the back wall, not making eye
contact with anyone.

   "You'll notice he has a penis," Beth went on academically, pointing to
his pride and joy, but not touching it.

   She put her fingers to her lips.  "Oh, my.  That's not very impressive,
is it?"

   She actually touched it and the whole class gasped, even me.  Beth even
picked it up, wiggled it, let it drop, frowning.

   Oh ho ho!  That explained his stress!  I was watching Carl's face, and
saw his jaw muscle jumping.  His fists were curled, his arm muscles tense.
His whole body was tense, except for that dangling bit of flesh at his
groin.

   It was the most awesome display of self-control I've ever seen.  Mr. 
Happy, as Carl referred to his penis, usually snapped to attention the
moment Beth walked into the room, even if she was fully dressed.

   Beth stepped back and looked up at him, frowning.  Then her face lit up,
and she snapped her fingers as if she'd just gotten an idea.

   She unbelted her robe.  She eased it back off her shoulders a little,
opening the gap to reveal the inner slope of her breasts.  "Oh Carl," she
called sweetly.

   Carl's eyes flicked in Beth's direction.  His cock stirred like a snake
sensing its prey.

   Beth let the robe slip further, her shy breasts coming into view, her
nipples stiffening.

   I tried to tell myself that Beth really didn't have much in the boob
department.  She barely filled a B cup!  But I had to admit that at least
she had something.

   My own nipples stiffened sympathetically under my loose shirt, not that
anyone but me could tell, of course.

   Carl's glances became more frequent, and more obvious as she slowly let
the robe slip down her arms, her hands keeping it closed to cover her from
just below her navel down.

   Carl's cock rose further.

   We held our breaths.  Even me.

   Beth let the robe drop around her feet, and we sighed.  She'd learned
from her modeling.  She posed, her upstage foot slightly forward, her back
very straight.

   Carl was looking right at her now, a moronic smile on his face.  His
whole body relaxed.

   Well, not his WHOLE body.  Up periscope!

   A sixth grade girl behind me gasped, while another let out a little
squeak.

   "Oh, are you glad to see me?" Beth asked impishly, reaching out to give
his hard cock a squeeze.

   "You know it!" Carl assured her, reaching out and gathering her into his
arms, without impeding the view of her hand holding his cock.  She looked
surprised, like this wasn't part of the program, but she responded
enthusiastically to his kiss, settling back in his arms for a good tongue
swapping.

   "This is Beth," Carl announced after finally breaking the kiss.  Beth
actually wobbled, and he steadied her, grinning at her flushed face. 
"She's a girl.  In fact, she's my girlfriend, as you might be able to tell
from the effect she has on me."

   Beth turned more to face the class, Carl's arm still around her.  Still
holding his cock, she gave his hard on a little wiggle and a squeeze.  I
wasn't sure but think I saw a clear drop of pre-cum emerge from the little
slit at the tip.  It made my mouth water.

   Nor was I surprised to see that Beth's pussy was bald.  That had
happened just before I saw them headed for Carl's bedroom, with Beth
wrapped around him like a monkey on a tree, his lower branch jammed up her
knot hole, so to speak.

   I had done a little snooping after the act had been consummated, before
my very eyes, no less.  The evidence had been obvious; curls of pubic hair
in the bathroom waste basket, some on the floor, two little patches on the
edge of the bathtub (souvenirs for the participants, I later learned), the
scissors, the razor.

   After separating with a final fond squeeze and hug, Carl and Beth spread
their robes on the table, and sat on them, next to each other, holding
hands, on full display.

   "As you can see, Carl has a cock," Beth began, releasing his hand only
long enough to indicate the harden jutting from his lap.

   "And Beth has a pussy," Carl pointed out, freeing his hand to touch her
just above her slit.  She gave a little shiver, and glanced up at him as
her nipples stiffened a little more and she grabbed his hand back.

   "We'll go into the details a little more, with the official words, but
first, does anyone have any questions?"

   "Uh, Beth, why don't you have any hair down there?"

   "And you are?" Beth asked.

   "Oh.  Sorry.  Mickey Kelly,"

   "And what grade are you?" Beth asked.  "It makes it easier on us to know
who we're dealing with."

   "7th."

   Trust Mickey, the jiggle queen of 7th grade.  Hell, of the whole school!
That girl had no shame.  She'd been front and center on full display at my
sleepover.  But then we'd all been naked, and she did have a lot to
display. Maybe Mickey had been held back a year?  She couldn't possibly be
only eleven, could she?

   Beth blushed a little.  "Well, Mickey, I don't have very much to begin
with, and I keep it shaved."

   "Why?" Mickey persisted.  I felt uncomfortable for Carl and Beth.

   "Well," Beth began, "for one thing, Carl likes it this way.  And
truthfully, I kinda like it, too.  When I stroke it, it feels smooth and
sexy." With her free hand, Beth demonstrated.  "On the other hand, it is a
bit of a nuisance, because when it gets stubble it itches, so I have to do
it almost every day.  It's just a matter of personal taste."

   I happened to know she usually had help in her grooming, which usually
wound up with a new set of calisthenics on Carl's bed.  Some nuisance!

   "And how does she taste, Carl?" Mickey asked with a wicked smile.

   Just as Ms Andrews was about to intervene, Carl responded.  "Delicious,"
he admitted.  "But we'll be covering that in a later class.  Are there any
other questions?"

   "How come you're not shaved?" Mickey persisted.

   "Miss Kelly, I think that's enough," Ms Andrews interrupted.

   "No, I don't mind, Ms Andrews," Carl responded.  "Beth hasn't asked me
to shave."

   "Did you ask her to shave?"

   Beth spoke up promptly.  "No he didn't.  It was my idea.  And in fact, I
asked him to shave me!  That was fun!"

   A boy in the second row hesitantly raised his hand and Beth pointed to
him.  He cleared his throat nervously.  "B-b-bill M-miller," he introduced
himself, "6th grade."

   Him and A.  J.  from sixth?  The Gods must have had a late night when
they picked those two for this class.  But then, they'd picked me and Missy
from 8th, to our bewilderment.

   "Do you have a question?" Beth asked gently.

   Poor Bill.  He stuttered, but Beth was very patient.  "Uh -- m-my
d-d-d-dick looks d-d-d-d-different than yours..."

   That got a laugh, and poor Bill flushed bright red.

   "I mean C-c-c-c <deep breath> c-c-c-Carl's."

   Carl shrugged.  "Everyone is different.  I'm circumcised, maybe you
aren't.  Or you might be smaller, or larger, straight or curved, fatter or
thinner.  If you haven't looked around in the locker room, take a chance
the next time."

   Bill -- or "Buh-buh-buh Bill" as he was called by some of the school
assholes -- shook his head, turning bright pink.

   "It's like Mickey's boobs are bigger than mine," Beth chimed in.  "At
your age things are changing fast.  It's not a race, some start earlier,
some later.  A boy's voice may start changing when he's 11, or not until
he's 15 or 16.  Same with pubic hair, breasts, facial hair, a girl's
period."

   "Since we're going to be discussing girls in today's class, it makes
sense to show just how widely the differences can range at your age," Carl
said.

   And right here is when my dear brother put his foot in it, right up to
the knee.

   "Dee, would you please come up?"

   "Me?" My blood ran cold even as I broke a sweat.

   "Please," Carl repeated.  "She's my sister, so she's well acquainted
with The Program."

   I looked around frantically, but Ms Andrews gestured for me to stand up.

   "She's twelve."

   "Almost thirteen," I reminded him reflexively as I stood beside him.

   "And Mickey, will you please come up," Beth asked.  "And how old are
you?"

   Mickey?  Why HER!?

   "Twelve," she admitted.  She was proud of it, the precocious bitch!

   "And would you both take off your clothes, please?" Beth asked.

   Oh no!  Oh no ohno ohno ohno ohno ohno!  Not THAT!  Here?  Now??  Right
beside Mickey of the bountiful boobs???

   Why hadn't he warned me?  I gave him a look that should have incinerated
him on the spot, but all he did was smile!  How could he DO this to me? 
Meanwhile, Mickey was already well into her strip show!

   What I was thinking at the moment would have drained my savings account
as it filled the kitchen jar.  Muttering under my breath I toed off my
sneakers and unfastened my baggy pants, letting them drop, exposing my
skinny thighs and knobby knees.  My plain cotton panties.  I practically
fell over getting my feet untangled.

   Delaying the inevitable, I went for my shirt next.  I didn't need to
wonder why this was bothering me, much as I'd been naked around my brother.
This was my school, my friends!  With Mickey as an "after" to my scrawny
"before!"

   "Behold, the Stick!" Patterson jeered sarcastically as I shed my shirt.

   I should have gone with my panties first, instead of my shirt.  I swore
then that I would give him a wedgie that would leave him squeaking the rest
of his life.

   Oh, I'd heard the nickname the boys had given me this year, but no one
had used it to my face more than once.

   I didn't have boobs.  I had knobs like a fricken old fashioned radio! 
Especially when they were aroused, as in right now.

   Mickey, meanwhile, was down to a well filled emerald green lace bra and
matching French cut panties that showed the shadow of her red pubic bush.
How did she get that rig past her mother?  And had she been told this would
happen?

   If so, Carl was SO dead!

   I shoved my panties down, kicked them away, and straightened up.  Being
the good friend she was, and miss tidy, Missy scooped up my rags and put
them on my chair.

   There I was, naked in front of the class.  I looked Patterson in the
eye, just daring him to make some crack.

   And, oh God, there was Mike Collins, right next to him.

   SHIT!

   If there was any consolation it was that all those dorks saw was Mickey,
lush, voluptuous Mickey, her precocious boobs standing tall and proud, her
pink nipples stiff.

   And there I was, fidgeting beside my naked brother.  I could feel the
whole class looking at me -- well, looking mostly at Mickey, but still. 
The touch of classroom air on my naked skin, the looks I was getting, at my
naked, hairless, pussy, my bumps that weren't yet breasts, my scrawny ribs,
my belly button.

   I barely heard Beth resume talking.  "This is one of the reasons we're
doing this program, to help you adjust to the differences among us all, and
the changes you're undergoing.  It's not just physical stuff, like breasts
or hair.  You're on a hormonal roller coaster right now.  Have you studied
hormones?"

   Ms Andrews shook her head.  "Not much."

   "Okay," Beth responded.  She smiled.  "Maybe I should be giving this
lecture to those around you, like parents, because from the inside you
probably think everything is fine, but the people around you will insist
your brains are being controlled from outer space.

   "Hormones are chemicals that are made by parts of your body called
glands, like a boy's balls are glands.  These chemicals govern all sorts of
things, such as where hair grows and when, how tall you grow, even how fast
your body uses oxygen and burns the food you eat.  They control a girl's
monthly cycle, when her breasts grow, when a boy's voice changes, even your
emotions, how you feel when you're angry or frightened or horny."

   "Right now your body is changing in all sorts of ways," Carl picked up.
"Your glands are pumping out all sorts of hormones you're not used to, so
you're going to be experiencing all sorts of feelings.  And the glands
themselves are going kinda crazy, making too much of one hormone, maybe too
little of another, and it can change real fast, in minutes or even seconds.
Boys get hards-on, sometimes at the worst possible time."

   He actually said that -- "hards-on" instead of "hard ons." Beth's
influence, again.

   "Or a girl may burst into tears for seemingly no reason at all," Beth
added, and I was just about to, for a perfectly good reason, you've got to
admit, but my pride was not about to let THAT happen!

   "We're not here just to teach you how boys and girls are different
physically.  We're here to help you understand as you go through this whole
process called puberty.  Chances are at some point you're going to be
thinking that the most important thing in the world is getting laid.  The
thought of dying a virgin will terrify you."

   "And, if you're a boy, that very thought may give you a hard on," Carl
interjected.

   That brought another nervous laugh.

   "Almost anything'll give a boy a hard on, or make a girl feel all hot
and bothered.  But," Carl went on, "you'll be too scared to even talk to a
girl, or a boy, let alone kiss her, or him." He smiled.  "Don't worry,
you'll get past that soon enough."

   I shot a nervous look at Mike Collins, and looked away when I saw him
watching me.  Me!  Not Mickey!

   Drop another coin in the jar.  Clink!

   "You'll wonder if you're 'normal, ' whatever that is.  Am I gay or
straight?  You'll be scared, excited, confused," Beth continued.

   "First off, there is no 'normal.'" Carl told us.  "There's 'average, '
but there's no such thing as 'normal', and 'average' is -- well -- if one
foot is in a bucket of boiling water and one is in a bucket of ice water,
don't try to tell your toes that, on the average, they're comfortable."

   "If something really worries you, talk to someone you trust, or come to
Carl or me," Beth suggested.

   Yeah, like I was likely to go to Carl after THIS!

   "If we don't know the answer or don't feel qualified to answer it, we'll
find someone who is.  We won't lie to you.  Right now you're not a kid, but
you're not a grown up yet, either."

   "Frankly, neither are we," Carl admitted.  "We're just a bit farther
along in the process.  We're not here to encourage you to screw.  Anything
but.  Give yourself time to grow up, When the time comes for sex, you'll
know it.  Meanwhile, your body, your hormones, may be trying to tell you
'I'm ready to GO!'"

   "While your mind is screaming 'STOP!'," Beth said.  "Listen to your
mind. Think with your head, not that." She pointed at Carl's dick.  "Sex is
more than just putting his 'Tab A'," Beth went on, illustrating it by
nudging Carl's cock back to full mast, "into my 'Slot A'." She touched her
own slit.  "It involves the most basic human drive, to make babies, and a
baby is huge responsibility.

   "Sex involves strong emotions and feelings.  If you're a girl it means
letting a boy put his cock into your cunt, inside your body, and leaving a
bit of himself behind.  That is no small thing." She shot a look at Carl's
erection, and shivered theatrically.

   "And once it's done it can't be un-done," Carl pointed out.  "Some
mistakes you can get away with.  Taking a poke at the class bully may not
get you anything more than a black eye and a week's suspension, but losing
your virginity is a one-time thing that you'll remember for the rest of
your life.  You want it to be a good memory of doing it with the right
person, at the right time.  So don't let yourself get pushed into doing it
against your will, by anyone."

   "And if the person you're with really cares about you, they won't try to
push you into it.  If they're pushing when you don't want it, they're
probably the wrong person..."

   "Because they're thinking of themselves, not you," Carl finished.  "I
didn't TAKE Beth's virginity..."

   Beth looked at him adoringly.  "I GAVE it to him.  It was MY choice."

   "And I was willing and ready to accept it," Carl put in.

   "So, what are we going to do here?" Beth asked.  "First, we'll give you
the facts about your anatomy, and how it works."

   "And then we'll try to get you comfortable with yourself and what you're
going through.  To do this, later on, we may ask you to get naked.  Getting
naked together," Carl explained, "helps you get used to yourself, your
feelings, and helps you understand, at least a little bit, how the opposite
sex reacts to a look..." at this he shared a fond look with Beth, " ...  or
a touch..." he touched her breast, brushing his thumb over her nipple,
making it stiffen ...  his cock responding, too " ...  so when it happens
to you you'll know what to expect."

   "If you're not comfortable with anything you don't have to take part,
but we do expect you to at least watch and listen," Beth concluded.

   Why the heck didn't they tell me that before getting me up here and out
of my clothes?

   "I expect to feel reaall gooood!" Jack Patterson drawled from his place
in the back row.  I glanced back and saw him stroking his crotch as he
slouched back in his chair, the usual cocky sneer on his face.  I wanted to
gag.  He was twelve, going on a perverted twenty.

   Beth pointedly ignored him.  "Dee, why don't you and Mickey get dressed
again, since our time is almost over.  And thank you very much.  I'm sure
it wasn't easy."

   I dove for my clothes, while Mickey shrugged, which resulted in some
interesting moving parts, and daintily picked up her panties, making
putting them on into a real production.

   "As we go on here we'll try to explore sex in all its wonderful, scary,
exciting facets," Carl concluded.  "Until the bell rings, Beth and I will
stay here so you can look at us, and ask us any questions you may have. 
But no touching, please."

   There was a stampede to the front of the room.

   "Next class I'll put myself on display and we'll examine my fixtures in
detail," Beth added as the throng gathered, "and we'll also examine Carl's
plumbing, if time allows."

   I held back while Missy joined the female feeding frenzy in front of
Carl.  After what he'd done to me all I wanted was to escape.

   How could he have humiliated me?  Making me stand naked in front of the
class was bad enough, but to put me up there against Mickey was totally
mortifying.

   I wanted to run away and hide.  But all I could do was sit there,
fuming, knowing I then had to face the lunchroom, where everyone would be
talking about me.

   "Are you all right, Dee?" Ms Andrews asked.  Darn it, she was so nice it
was almost enough to make be bawl.

   "Can I get out of this class?"

   Her touch on my shoulder felt good, steadying.  "Try to tough it out,
Dee.  I'll talk to Patterson, if that will help."

   I shook my head.  That would only make it worse.  Then the bell rang and
I bolted for the door.