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 Dee Does HS 24[DF1] by Peregrinf

   I followed Mrs.  Devers out the main school doors and down the steps
into the early afternoon sun, trailed by a line of Very Important People.
We were lined up in the order we were going to speak, Mrs.  Devers to
welcome our guests and do introductions, then me, then the President of the
Student Council (none other than Matt Mozilla), the high school Principal,
the Superintendent of Schools, the President of the School Board and the
Mayor.  Bringing up the rear was our congressman, who was up for reelection
-- read into my choice of words or his position in line what you will.

   They, of course, were all in their best business formal attire --
jackets and ties, Mrs.  Devers in her finest blouse and pants suit.  I was
representing the Naked in School Program, so you can safely assume how I
was dressed -- or, rather, not dressed.  The studs in my recently pierced
ears didn't come close to covering even my lobes, let alone the interesting
bits further south.

   As choreographed, cool grass under my bare feet, we filed along a line
of folding chairs facing the overflow audience of students, faculty, staff,
parents and towns-people -- and TV cameras!  -- on the school's front lawn.
We were greeted with polite applause, mixed with some murmurs at the sight
of me.  If anyone was there to see a naked girl it was easy enough.  I'm
tall, so I already stand out, and since my Brazilian wax job hadn't even
started to grow out I had no secrets.

   None.

   To one side, on a granite pedestal set up on some steps, on which
students were certain to congregate, was the shrouded form of the statue
soon to be unveiled.

   You'd think I'd be used to being naked in public by now, but for some
reason I felt like I was in that old "naked in school" nightmare.  And to
top it off, I was about give a speech, only I had no idea what I was going
to say.

   SHeeiitt!  Talk about cold sweat.  Only I could cram the two most common
school nightmares -- naked in school and unprepared for class -- into one
real live occasion.

   Then, when I turned to face the throng to take my seat, there, in the
front row along with Mom, Elaine and dignitaries' entourages, is my brother
Carl, next to his GF Beth, and next to her is their very good bud
Stephanie, who was clinging lovingly to her girlfriend Kathy's arm!  Where
had they come from?

   I went down like a marionette whose strings had been cut.  Fortunately
the chair was under me.

   Mom and Elaine, of course, I'd expected.  But Carl was supposed to be at
Stanford and Beth at Harvard!  And Steph was supposed to be in Philadelphia
at the Curtis Institute!

   That I didn't pee right then and there with the whole world watching was
some kind of a miracle.

   You will be relieved to know I kept my knees together, quickly tilting
my long legs at a modest and ladylike angle, managing to sit up straight.
It was as much to avoid panic-induced urination as to preserve what little
modesty I had.  Desperate for any distraction, I wondered how they had
sneaked into town under my nose, Carl from Palo Alto and Beth all the way
from Boston.

   More to the point, they had to have come in yesterday.  Beth looked
entirely too fresh to have endured a red-eye from Boston, and both looked
very smug.  Where had Mom hidden away my favorite older brother and his
wonderful squeeze?  And Kathy hadn't let slip that Stephanie was going to
be here either!  Those sneaks!!

   It was the greatest birthday surprise ever!

   Then it occurred to me -- I had made it ridiculously easy for them.  I'd
gone to Heather's for a strategy session and some pillow talk after school
yesterday, instead of going home, so they'd had virtually all day to
perform their magic.  I bet Carl and Beth hadn't even needed to slip out of
our house before I got home this morning.  Those two fuck bunnies had
simply spent last night at Beth's house, in her bed, making up for lost
time.

   Now here they were, with all these other people, to see me give the
leadoff speech at the dedication of The Spirit of Central High statue.

   Once I figured out what I was going to say, that is.

   Which I'd better do right quick.

   Talk about an adrenalin overdose!

   Oh, and do not try this at home.  I'm a trained professional screwball
on a closed course.

   My mind was racing like a squirrel in a cage while Mrs.  Devers welcomed
the spectators and various dignitaries.  I bet if she knew I was about to
give a speech I didn't have she would have peed in her pants.

   Which would be more embarrassing, I wondered -- wetting one's pants or
peeing in the nude, the golden flow sparkling in the sun for all to see.

   Desperately I dragged my thoughts back to what I could say.  Devers had
given me suggestions, of course, most strongly about what NOT to say --
that is, anything that might in any way rake up memories of our recently
departed, unlamented and perverted Program Supervisor, AKA the Worm.

   Others had chimed in with their own suggestions.  The Chairman of the
Board of Education had even taken the trouble to write a speech for me.  He
must have flunked public speaking, if he'd ever taken the class.  It was so
awful I'd thrown it away, figuring anything I came up with had to be
better. Now I wished I hadn't.  At least it would have given me something
to say.

   I'd had lots of ideas of my own.  Trouble was I hadn't found the time to
write them down.

   Shit!

   Then I realized Mrs.  Devers had introduced me and I was cleared for
take-off.  At least I'd had sense enough to put a towel down in advance so
I wasn't peeling my ass off the folding chair like a Post It.

   There wasn't even a podium for me to hide behind, just a microphone on a
pole.  I took a moment to raise the mike to my altitude.  The flexible
stalk that held it made a metallic fart that rattled the speakers.  My
perverse brain couldn't help thinking that using the mike as a dildo would
produce some really interesting noises.

   After titters and polite applause the crowd waited breathlessly.  I saw
Mrs.  Devers break out in a sweat when she saw I didn't even have a
three-by-five card to speak from, or hide behind.

   Naked and unashamed, I prayed for The Stick to some up with something
inspiring.

   Her only advice was to stand tall, take my time, and start simple!

   Gee thanks!  I cleared my throat nervously.

   "Good afternoon." My voice echoed back at me from the building,
consonants popping, so I backed away from the microphone.

   That's simple enough.  Now what?

   From The Stick, only silence.  Oh well, I guess I'd better introduce
myself and go from there.

   "As Mrs.  Devers said, my name is Diane Walker, and, as chair of the
Naked in School Student Advisory Committee I'm honored to welcome you here
on behalf of the Naked in School Program of Central High.  I particularly
want to express my thanks to Mrs.  Devers for inviting me to speak on
behalf of the Naked in School Program, which was recently expanded to
include faculty and staff.  I also want to thank all those who have
preceded us in the Program, one of whom was my brother, who I'm overjoyed
to see here today, even if he does have clothes on while I don't."

   Titters from the audience.

   Stop babbling, The Stick scolded.

   "Oh, and if any of you care to join me, please feel free to strip.  I'd
welcome the company."

   That got a chuckle from the sympathetic crowd, but no one got up and
started to undress.  Carl's grin and nod made my titties pucker and warmed
me right to my toes!  I spread my arms to indicate myself, the sun and the
air playing their usual naughty games with the parts of me they didn't
always get to toy with.  My tits welcomed the attention, as did my pussy
and my ass.  I savored the attention of the crowd, too, their looks
confirming what The Stick kept telling me; that I am Tall, I am Beautiful,
I am Sexy.

   Now all I had to do was sound intelligent.

   Oh well, three outta four ain't bad.

   "This is what being naked in school is all about," I began.  "What I
mean to say is, it is not about sex -- well, not JUST about sex.  What
teenager won't explore and experiment with sex?  Getting us naked only
makes it easier."

   Laughter.

   I drew a deep breath and mentally shuffled some of the ideas about The
Program that I'd been toying with.

   "More important, it gives us the opportunity to learn about the
differences between the sexes, in the raw, as it should be, without
evasions, without beating about the bush, so to speak."

   Another laugh from the audience, even a smattering of applause.

   "Pun not intended," I added, blushing furiously when I realized how that
had sounded, triggering a bigger laugh.

   I told myself it was time to get serious.

   "Truly, The Naked in School Program is not just about sex.  As I've
learned from my own time in the Program, being naked strips us of all
pretense, reduces each of us to a common denominator, levels the playing
field.  When we're naked there's no way to tell who is rich or who is poor,
who belongs to this clique or that gang -- although with boys I guess some
religious affiliations might be inferred."

   I blushed again with the chuckles, and hurried on.

   "Stripping away all that textile, that facade, reveals us as we are, as
God made us.  Can I say 'God' here?" I asked Mrs.  Devers.

   Reassured by her nod and nervous smile I plunged on into the unknown,
still not sure where I was going with this.

   "Be it fat, thin, tall, short, black, white, red, brown or yellow, able
or disabled, gay, straight or simply confused, stripped down to our skin we
can see that we all have the same parts.

   "What I mean is that girls have the girl parts and boys have the boy
parts."

   Snickers.

   "Usually."

   Chuckles.

   "I have heard it sometimes gets a little mixed up, but haven't seen that
for myself yet."

   That brought a full laugh!  I was starting to feel like I was a stand-up
comic.  Not what I intended!

   "Anyway, this is the way we come into the world.  It is us, and there is
nothing shameful or lewd about it."

   I turned around slowly, modeling my skin for them before reaching for
the microphone stand to steady myself.

   "Being naked in school reveals us for what we are -- human -- nothing
more and nothing less.  Oh sure, some are prettier than others, and until
we get used to it I guess we all think we look kinda funny naked.  But once
we get past that we're forced look deeper and discover that true beauty
comes from within, that it truly shows in the way we treat each other.

   "I admit, those who've not yet been naked in school sometimes try to
take advantage of Program participants, to make fun of us.  But once they
find themselves in The Program, exposed to others, well, for them it is a
humbling experience, a powerful reality check.

   "After a week of walking the halls and going to class like this we get
used to being naked.  By the end of the week we no longer feel that we're a
curiosity.  By then we've come to accept ourselves and others as we are,
and those not naked come to accept us as we are."

   I was on a roll and sucked in some air, building for the big finish,
whatever that was going to be.

   "No one comes out of the Naked in School Program unchanged, not even
those who, for whatever reason, do not participate, since they see those of
us who do take part as we really are.

   "With the Naked in School Program there are no secrets.  We are all
changed.  I like to think that we are all better for the experience, but
I'm not going to speak for others.  I'll leave them to speak for
themselves."

   I drew another deep breath, wondering where the hell to go from here,
and found myself asking that question out loud.

   "So, why am I standing here in my birthday suit, talking to you about
the Naked in School Program?  Isn't this supposed to be the unveiling of
The Spirit of Central High statue?"

   Suddenly, like I'd been struck by lightning, I knew where I was going,
and heaved a mental sigh of relief.  I didn't realize until that moment
that I'd started softly, even timidly, but bit by bit I'd gotten more
confident, a little louder and stronger, and now I knew exactly what I
wanted to say.

   Something about me must have changed.  Mrs.  Devers looked relieved,
which was nothing compared to what I was feeling; the end was suddenly in
sight.  I was tingling all over.

   Don't rush!  The Stick cautioned.  Speak slowly and clearly!

   "I'm standing here because if it were not for the Naked in School
Program, this statue would not even exist," I explained emphatically.  If
I'd had a podium I would have pounded on it.

   Pause!  Timing is everything, The Stick reminded me.

   I thought about how I'd learned to wait after leaving the end of the
diving board until it was just the right time, the time to seize the
moment, to execute the dive itself, the time to pike or tuck or twist.

   I was in the air.  There wasn't a sound from the audience.  They were
waiting, for me!

   Softly now, The Stick cautioned.  You've got 'em right where you want
them.  Make them really LISTEN.

   "Because," I began softly and seriously, cuddling up to the microphone,
"this statue is a symbol, an example of what The Naked in School Program
does for Central High, does for all of us, students, faculty,
administration, parents, families and siblings, even the community."

   A little louder now, The Stick urged.

   I drew back a bit from the mike.  "The young lady who modeled for this
statue is here today.  As a junior she was a pioneering participant in the
Naked in School Program's first year.  She is, by nature, quiet and modest.
Before she entered The Program most of her peers thought of her as a bit of
a nerd, and she'll admit she was, and probably still is.

   "But being naked in school stripped away that facade to reveal her true
beauty and the strength within her, reveal it to herself and to us all."

   I saw Beth blush prettily.  It wasn't physical modesty on her part,
she's just not one who likes a lot of attention, even though she is now a
self-confessed exhibitionist.  Right now, wearing a modest blouse and a
demure knee-length pleated skirt, she looked what I supposed was the
perfect example of an Ivy League undergrad at an occasion like this.

   Though I was willing to bet she didn't have a stitch on under them.

   "During her week in The Program, among many other things, she modeled
nude for her art class.  One of the students in that class, Henry Carver, a
senior at the time, conceived this beautiful and inspirational work of
art." I gestured at the shrouded statue.  "Since graduating Henry has
earned an impressive reputation as a local artist and art teacher -- when
he's not off studying and making his mark in Paris, or Chicago, or New
York, that is."

   Now a conversational tone, The Stick prompted.

   "Incidentally, those of you who do not know him might be surprised to
learn that Henry Carver is blind, has been since birth."

   The silence resulting from that remark was followed by some murmurs and
whispers.  I saw Henry, seated off to one side, tilt his head, nodding,
smiling his lop-sided smile, his opaque dark glasses catching the sunlight,
his hand lightly on the harness worn by his guide dog Aphrodite as she lay
beside his chair.  She yawned and panted, her pink tongue lolling out of
the side of her mouth.

   "If you're wondering how he does it, Henry 'sees' with his hands -- his
sense of touch.  That is why sculpture is Henry's medium.  What his hand's
'see' -- inside and out -- they sculpt, though he also uses his other
senses -- hearing, smell, even taste as he studies his subject.

   "I leave the creative process, and what it means for his models, to your
imaginations.  I'll just say that I've been there, done that, and I can
tell you it is an awesome experience."

   I looked up at the statue on its granite pedestal.  I'd seen the
original clay model, so I knew what was under the sheet.  It was Beth, of
course, her likeness, as Henry saw her, cast in bronze, life-sized, nude,
stretching up on tiptoe, reaching up, seeming almost to touch the sky.

   Gosh it was beautiful -- she was beautiful, is beautiful!

   "My point is, this statue, Henry's work, shows the power of the human
spirit to overcome any obstacle.  When you see this statue you'll know
that, while he may be blind, Henry's 'vision' knows no limits, that
'handicapped' is not a word that applies to him, that he sees deeper, with
more sensitivity, than most sighted artists."

   Louder now The Stick urged.

   "Overcoming her shyness and modesty, the student who posed for this
statue embraced the Naked in School Program boldly, with grace and courage
that still inspires all of us, within the program and without."

   Big breath!  The Stick said.

   "When you see Henry's creation, The Spirit of Central High, know this!"

   Louder yet!  The Stick urged.  You're Carl blowing "charge" on his
trombone.  Better yet, a whole brass band!

   I sucked in a breath like I was about to swim fifty meters under water,
and took a step back from the microphone rather than risk blasting it.

   "Nothing could possibly represent The Spirit of Central High better than
this statue, better than the artist who created it does, better than the
model who posed for it does."

   Don't shout.  Bring it from the gut!  The Stick commanded.  Open your
throat and let it roar!

   "Know that this statue embodies the spirit that The Naked in School
Program inspires in us all, not just us students, not just the
administration, the faculty and staff of the school, but in the whole
community.  It is a spirit that should not, cannot, will not be denied!"

   Even before I finished speaking half the audience was on their feet
applauding and I'd had to work to be heard over them.

   I didn't need The Stick to tell me I'd just ripped the entry of a really
fine speech.

   "Thank you."

   Stepping down to a standing ovation I went straight to Carl and wrapped
myself around him, tears and the tension flowing out of me as he held me
close, the applause washing over me.  Mom was patting me, so I turned to
her and welcomed her hug as well, then Elaine's, Stephanie's and Kathy's,
Greg's longest and strongest of all, and then someone made room for me
among my family and friends so I could collapse into a seat, clutching at
Greg's hand, pressing his arm against my left breast, receiving
congratulatory pats from Greg's parents behind me, from the Finch family
and others nearby, vaguely aware of the next speaker, Matt Mozilla as
student council prez, mumbling something about having a hard act to follow,
even as he smiled at me.

   Well, I thought triumphantly, grinning back at him, that's what they get
for letting me go first.

   It was the big people's turn now, and I was glad to sit with my family
and friends, listening with half an ear to the other speakers doing their
thing while wondering where that had all come from, and what was yet to
come today.

   I knew there was going to be a party.  For a change Mom had admitted it,
handing me a guest list because she wanted to ask me if there was anyone
special I wanted on it.  Of course there was and I made my additions, but
as to the details of the party itself, Mom was about as informative as a
politician at a press conference.

   In preparation for the one thing that I knew would happen at the party
I'd had to talk with my one very special guest, because she had an
important assignment.  That was where Friday afternoon and evening had
gone. It had taken some convincing, with some outside assistance from Ms.
Andrews, before Heather and her parents had finally agreed they should all
come to the party.  Then, at night, under the covers, I'd talked Heather
into doing something at the party that I knew only she should do.

   The speeches went on much too long, especially the congressman's
campaign speech, but we finally got to the unveiling itself, with Henry
pulling the shroud away to reveal Beth in all her naked glory.  There were
the expected ooos and aaahhs and applause, followed by mingling and
congratulations.  Mom and Elaine cut out right away, but we young folks had
to wait while Beth posed for pictures -- naked of course -- beside her
bronze likeness, until we finally dragged her away.

   I was right, by the way.  The only thing she'd had on was blouse, skirt,
and shoes.  She didn't bother to put them back on when we left.

   But before I could make my escape, Mrs.  Devers cornered me.

   "Did you know what you were going to say when you got up there?"

   I laughed nervously.  "Didn't have a clue."

   Frowning, she shook her head slowly.  "Don't you ever do that to me
again!"

   "Didn't I do okay?" I asked fearfully.

   "You need to ask?  You were great!" Her smile was like the sun coming
out from behind a cloud.

   I blushed.  "Thanks."

   "But I hope you know you fired a shot right across the bow of some
people who'd just as soon see The Program sunk right where it is."

   "Huh?"

   "You'll see.  Now get out of here and enjoy your birthday party."

   Impulsively, I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a hug.  For a
moment she hesitated, then returned it, a little stiffly, and I realized
I'd get her in trouble in some circles for her embracing a naked 9th-grade
student.

   Fuck 'em, I thought.

   "Thank you," I whispered in her ear before making my escape, trying not
to show the effect she had on me.

   * * *

   Half an hour later, sitting next to Heather on the pool steps, I was
soothing my stinging ass in Elaine's swimming pool while the post-spanking
part of the party went on around us.

   My theory in choosing Heather to deliver my birthday spanking was that
it would be mutually therapeutic.  She'd vent some of her anger and I'd
atone for the guilt I still felt for being so mean to her.  She'd delivered
fourteen strokes plus one to grow on with gusto.  Maybe suggesting she
think of the Worm as she delivered them had been a mistake.  She'd sure
vented, and I felt really atoned, I'll tell you.

   I KNOW it's not logical, but I still felt guilty.  Over the last few
days I'd discussed it with Mom, even with Ms.  Andrews.  Both of them had
said I'd done the right thing, that it had to be done.  Once again I'd
found myself on the horns of one of those strange beasts, a dilemma.  This
one actually had a name -- "do the ends justify the means?"

   It turns out there's rarely a clear answer to that one.

   Ah well.  What's done is done.  Heather didn't seem to hold it against
me.  I shifted to let the water circulate between me and the gritty
concrete steps.  The cool pool felt good on my blistered buns.

   As the two of us loafed in our own little corner on the pool steps a
water fight raged beyond us.  We were both feeling better, in an endorphin
rush sort of way.  I have to admit, the whole scene, me bent over her lap
while her hand whacked by butt while everyone watched, had left me turned
on.

   There was no shortage of attractive bodies to choose from, but proximity
breeds lust and she was the closest at the moment.  Besides enjoying her
company I was very conscious of the heat radiating from her warm,
curvaceous body.  I kept telling myself she was off-limits, distracting
myself by watching the melee of splashing and dunking -- and necking and
feeling.  It was the biggest birthday party I'd ever had.  Counting those
who could make it out of the Dirty Dozen, the committee, my lunch bunch,
and all their dates, Carl and Beth, Steph and Kathy, plus Mom and Elaine,
Beth's parents -- even Heather's mom and dad -- there had to be thirty
people there.

   I knew most of them, of course, except some of the dates.  They were all
conforming to the dress code for my party -- which was naked -- even the
parents, and under the cover of splashes and waves most were taking
advantage of total epidermal access.

   "So, what now?" Heather asked pensively.

   I shrugged.  "We go on, I guess."

   I knew what she meant, but she was the one who had to say it.  Last
night we'd only snuggled and slept, and it had been good.  But we both
remembered that once before -- after the Great Dress hunt -- we had made
long, sweet, passionate love as only two girls -- women -- can make love.

   Oh hell, to be honest I'd seduced her.  I tried to blame it on a moment
of weakness on our parts, both for her, and for me, too, I guess, but I'd
initiated it.

   Shit.  Maybe she should have doubled the spanking.

   "I mean, what's between us?" she ventured.

   I spotted Judy Liu on the diving board and wondered if she knew what she
was doing and waved to catch her eye.  "Be careful, Judy!"

   Judy flipped me the bird, of course.  Careful wasn't in her vocabulary
any more than it was in mine.  But maybe she listened to me.  The little
sprite tested the spring of the board instead of just flinging herself off
it.

   "Don't you want me?" Heather asked timidly.

   I looked at her, and knew she saw the tears the glistening in my eyes.
"Of course I want you.  I'll always want you.  But I'm not your type, and
you know it."

   I guess I was beginning to distinguish between love and lust.  I
couldn't honestly tell her I loved her, not the way I did Greg or Missy,
though by God I did lust after her.  Who wouldn't lust after her?  Most
boys got hard-ons just looking at her.

   The only trouble was, the nice guys were intimidated by her beauty and
her rep as a "popular girl." They assumed they didn't have a chance with
her since she'd dated the star quarterback until last year, then Matt
Mozilla, running back and all around hunk extraordinaire -- and closeted
gay.

   Except the dumb jocks and testosterone-addled jerks, of course, who
would make a pass at anything with tits.  All those bozos wanted was to put
another notch on their gun, so to speak, the pricks.  She knew they only
wanted her for the one thing she wasn't about to surrender.  Even after The
Worm had stolen it from her she tried to cling to her virginity and
respectability and she was too smart to fall into that trap.

   As I watched, holding my breath with worry, Judy took a run up the
diving board, a hop, and stopped dead at the end, killing the board's
bounce with a gymnast's skill, peering down at the water.

   And in case you're puzzled why boys would go for girls with such a
bitchy reputation as Heather and the Hive had developed, the Hive's venom
was directed at other girls.  Most guys were oblivious to that.  All they
saw was tits and ass.

   "You're dumping me."

   That hurt!  I put my arm around her and drew her close, her warmth and
softness stirring me.  As I watched, Judy ran, took flight off the end of
the diving board and performed a surprisingly good front flip.  Good thing
she's not a diver, I thought fleetingly, or she'd be real competition,
especially given my current slump.

   "No.  I'm letting you go," I countered, "setting you free.  I'll always
be your friend.  I'll do anything for you, but you need a guy.  I'm not the
lover for you, and you know it."

   This was feeling very similar to when me and Missy had broken up.  But
if I carried on with Heather it could end just as painfully as that had.  I
never wanted that to happen again.  I wanted to stop this before it
started. I couldn't let myself love her the way I'd loved Missy, the way I
loved Greg.

   "I'm not disgusted with what we did!  It was ...  it was wonderful," she
admitted awkwardly.

   "I know that.  It felt good -- great, in fact.  But be honest -- would
you be doing it with me because you really want me, or because you feel you
owe me?  That wouldn't be right." I was doing my best to let her down
gently.  For me it felt, well, painful, like maybe a bad wax job on my
emotions.

   "What if I just need someone to feel close to?  What if I need a cuddle,
and someone to share things with that I can't share with anyone else?"

   Shit.  She had me there.  How could I turn her away?

   What I wanted to say was that she didn't play fair, but that only
reminded me of what I'd done to her, and I crumbled.

   "Of course you can come to me -- to my bed, even.  But you need to find
a guy," I urged.

   "Like anyone will have me.  You're the only one who understands." She
sounded like she felt like she was damaged goods.

   "Not necessarily," I answered, catching sight of John Patterson -- I
mean John Finch, now -- on the fringe of the crowd.  He was a bit young for
her, in some ways, but in terms of grim experience he was far advanced. 
Also, he was date-less tonight, as was Heather.  Maybe....

   Oh hell.  I curled up, wrapping my arms around my folded legs, pressing
my head to my knees.

   "What's wrong?" she asked, her arm around my bony hunched back.

   "Nothing."

   I was just so tired of feeling I had to fix things -- fix people -- all
the time -- Missy back in middle school, and Peggy, and Heather, and the
Worm and now the Program....

   Mercifully, she didn't flinch away, but just held me, warm and
comforting, her head on my shoulder, until I unwound again, feeling much
better thanks to her.

   "You okay?" she asked.

   I nodded.

   "Wanna go mix?" she asked, with a nod to the rest of the pool, the
battle having ended in something more erotic -- no, romantic, I guess you
could say, couples coupling, small groups talking.

   "You go ahead," I answered, and watched as she waded and swam, pausing
here and there to chat with people, with what I had come to think of as her
game-face on, the persona she donned that hid the pain lingering from what
the Worm had done to her.

   She was a good person, and strong, so I felt better, confident she'd
mend.

   Finally stirred by the dinner call, I put on my own game face.  Being
the guest of honor, I was at the head of the head table, with Greg beside
me on one side, Carl on the other, which helped a lot, and I shed my gloom
as we all shared pizza and sodas and what-have-you.  I'd reached the burp
point when a monster sheet cake was born out on to the table accompanied by
a "Happy Birthday" fanfare from Terrell Ford on his electronic keyboard
thingy.

   Kathy was busy with her video camera as the cake was set down in front
of me.

   A circle of fourteen candles cast a lovely light over the beautiful
decoration.  The top of the cake was swimming pool blue, complete with
ripples, with a rim of white icing.  In the middle of the circle of candles
was a swimmer midway in splashing her way from one end of the cake to the
other -- doing the butterfly, of course -- her spray made of more white
icing.  Naturally she was naked, her body, her bare buns pink against the
blue water, her short hair blonde.  There was a diving board made out of
chocolate at one end, starting blocks -- also chocolate -- at the other.

   There were enough calories in front of me to fuel the whole swimming
team for a month.

   Above the swimmer was a rainbow arch of letters, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY," with
my name in an arc below her.  The whole gang sang "Happy Birthday," backed
up by Terrell on his electronic keyboard and Stephanie on her flute, with
Beth and Bill Harris leading the vocals, harmonizing.

   All I could do was sit there and blush, and tear up.  It was after I'd
made my wish (it's a secret) and blown out the candles and we were
finishing our cake and ice cream -- a tub of rocky road, my favorite --
that Terrell and Stephanie excused themselves to huddle by his keyboard. 
Some of the younger kids had left by the time the two of them started
jamming together and Greg asked me to dance, leaving everyone else to clear
the tables.

   I felt so spoiled!  I was in his arms, snuggled against him and we
danced as the sun went down in a blaze of glory, just the two of us, naked
skin to naked skin.  Since we were without the clothes it was better than
the homecoming dance.  I kinda wished I at least had my jewelry on.  The
idea of rubies -- even synthetic ones -- set in silver on bare skin is so
erotic, so decadent!

   Oh, and in case you're wondering, it's always been a standing order at
my parties -- no presents.  As far as I was concerned, the party was the
present, though sometimes some small things were sneaked in, like Missy's
little gift at the last party, the one she couldn't be at.

   Tonight the music was the special thing.  I don't know how Terrell and
Stephanie did it without having rehearsed or anything.  Maybe it's just
'cause they're so talented, or they only did songs they both knew. 
Terrell's keyboard was a monster thing with two keyboards and more buttons
and knobs and switches than the space shuttle.  He could make it sound like
a whole orchestra, including drums, while Stephanie's flute soared like a
lark.

   I lost myself in Greg's arms as we moved with the music, only vaguely
aware of Kathy on the perimeter, the red eye of the video camera on us
every minute, others joining us on the deck as cleanup was completed.

   Then, unexpectedly, Greg passed me on to Carl and I found myself in my
brother's strong, loving, warm embrace.  It was such a joy to have him
home, even if only for a day or two.  I pressed myself against him,
breathing in his scent, feeling his skin against mine, his irrepressible
cock expressing its hunger for me, his sister.  I knew it had no
conscience, that it wanted the one hole we'd never let it invade, our one
taboo.

   Then Carl stepped aside and I found myself in Mr.  McKenzie's arms,
Heather's dad!  His hairy body was bristly against mine, his grip strong
and sure, his blocky cock just as insolent.

   "I can't thank you enough for what you did for Heather, for us all," he
said softly as he swept me around the deck.  He really knew how to dance,
his lead so strong and sure my feet seemed to hardly touch the deck,
somehow knowing where to go without my telling them.

   "I didn't...."

   "You did more than you know.  You showed me what I almost lost," he
countered, "what is truly important in this world.  Thank you."

   Then he was gone, and Stephanie had taken his place, her big plushy body
filling my arms and I pressed myself against her softness, her massive
breasts warm pillows for me to snuggle into, her naked thighs and mine
brushing.

   "Kathy tells me you've been taking good care of her," Steph murmured as
we danced cheek-to-cheek, body to body.

   I had to confess it had been my pleasure.

   "I'm sure it was," she twinkled, giving me a squeeze, "and I expect you
to keep up the good work!"

   I felt myself blushing, but before I could say anything she was away and
it was John Patterson -- uh, Finch -- holding me.  He was lean, and not as
tall as me, young and a little clumsy, and nervous as we danced.

   "Thank you," was all he said and then he was away, and it was Judy Liu
taking his place -- and I'd thought she'd left!

   "You looked pretty good off the diving board," I told her.

   The little imp just had to pinch my butt.  "Wouldja teach me how to
dive?" she asked, tipping her head back to look up at me from her less than
five feet, her dark eyes sparkling, her smile as mischievous as ever.

   "Oh!  You want to learn?  I thought gymnastics was your thing."

   "Wouldja?" she asked.  "I'm serious."

   "I'll try," I agreed.

   "Thanks!  Mom's here.  I gotta go!  Have a nice party."

   And then she was away and it was Bud Lacey, Missy's date, waltzing me
around.  He didn't dance very well, and didn't say anything, but he did
smell nice, and I could feel his horniness, of course.

   Then he was gone and it was Missy herself, and we didn't need to say
anything as we danced like we had up in my room one time.  Only now it was
better, since we weren't wearing pajamas or trying to figure out whose arm
went where and stumbling over each other's feet.

   I was getting a little dizzy when Mike Collins took Missy's place. 
Mike, the first guy I'd ever had in me, and his pecker did its best to find
a nest within me again, but he didn't let it, tucking it up along my tummy
where it was like a rolling pin between us.

   By this time the sun was down and the party was down to us big kids --
over fourteen -- and the adults.  Terrell kept playing, smiling softly as
he watched us dance, his big black hands caressing the double keyboards
like he was making love to it.  I wondered if he and Judy Liu still had a
thing going or not.  Too bad she'd had to leave.  I loved seeing them
together, the contrast, she a petite but muscular oriental doll, while he
was a gentle mountain of a man.

   Stephanie had put her flute away and she and Kathy were in each other's
arms, moving to the music in a very erotic lesbian dance.  With nothing to
insert, it made vertical conjugation easier.  They were unabashedly humping
each other, and I saw them tensing up, shivering.  I found myself wishing
there was some way I could fulfill my horizontal desire vertically as Greg
gathered me in again.

   There was a fire dancing in the outdoor fireplace.  Heather and John
were sitting on the edge of the pool, feet in the water, holding hands and
talking.  Beth and Carl were sharing a chaise, and Heather's folks were
just as cozy in another -- he was a big man, stocky and fit, a bit hairy --
while she was as gently rounded and ladylike as her daughter, and just as
well groomed.  As I sneaked a peak past Greg's shoulder I saw him mount
her, saw her guide his cock into herself.  Catching sight of me, she gave a
wicked wink, mouthing "thank you" at me as her hips rose to welcome his
thrust.  Then her mouth gaped open and her eyes glazed over as he began
fucking her.

   I mentally returned to our dancing, if you could call it that.  By now
we were barely moving, our arms around each other and we were pressed
together from mouths to toes.  I was in an erotic cloud, pressing my body
against his, loving the feel of his hard dick against my tummy, sharing our
breaths, hands stroking bare skin.

   Engulfed as I was in a sensuous fog I was only vaguely aware of Greg
backing up, drawing me with him.

   Then there were hands touching and guiding us.  When he started to ease
backwards away from me I was held back so he could lie down on his back on
one of the sturdy chaises with its plushy cushions, his lovely, lovely hard
cock standing proud from his groin.  Since I was already nearly delirious
with desire, it took only a moment for the friends and lovers around me to
get me to straddle him so they could aim his hard-on up into my more than
ready cunt.

   Oh my gosh!

   They pressed down on my shoulders and I happily sank down on him, down
on him, down on him, until I was full, full, full.  I sighed from the
depths of my soul and for a time just stayed there, savoring the sensation
of being stuffed with his dick, my nipples so hard they hurt, my cunt
gripping his dork.  Finding his wrists I guided his hands to my breasts,
leaned into his grip.

   It was Beth on one side of me, Heather on the other who took Greg's
hands away from my boobs, then gently urged me forward to lie down on him,
his prick levering within me, my clit striking fire between our pubic
bones, his bush scratchy against my waxed pubes.  I was kissing him again,
his arms tight around me, mine under his shoulders, our tongues dueling,
lips and teeth working when I felt fingers -- not his!  -- exploring my
ass, stroking the crack, probing, teasing my butt-hole, so close to where
his cock was socketed in my twat.

   Ohmygosh!

   A finger coated with something cool and very slippery invaded me back
there, drilling deep, deep, deep, triggering an absolutely exquisite itch
and I could only groan into Greg's mouth at the sensation.  The finger went
away, but only long enough for two to come back, slick and gooey, working
their way far into my ass, stretching my sphincter as they twisted and
turned inside me.

   I knew they could only be lubing me up, but for what?  Or maybe that
should be whom?  I remembered how, after the dance, as I'd ridden Greg,
Kathy had buggered me with her double-ended dildo, but knew this was going
to be different, if only because we had spectators and no dildo can really
compare to a living cock.

   And who was watching, how many were there?  Whose hands were on me, on
Greg as we coupled there?  Missy and Beth were there, but who else?  There
were Heather and her parents, and Missy's date, Bud Lacey, and John Finch,
and Carl, and....

   ...and then I stopped caring.  The fingers having left my ass, something
bigger, bulkier was nuzzling at me.  There was a warm body leaning over me
as the pressure at my bung slowly built.

   "Relax, Sis." Carl's breath was hot in my ear before he straightened up
again and began to work his cock into my tail, someone helping, guiding it,
someone else holding my cheeks apart, making it a team effort.

   Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes.  It was Carl!  He'd buggered me once before,
while Beth had eaten me out, but now here I was, trapped between the two
most favorite men in my life!  I willed my body to accept it, making like I
was trying to poop to open that gate for him.  His hot, hard cock slowly
stretched me open, worked its way inside, pushing deeper and deeper,
stretching me wide, shoving all before it, stuffing me fuller than I had
ever been in my entire life.

   Wrenching my mouth away from Greg's I gasped, whimpered, groaned.  Oh,
it was so unbelievably good to be so full!  With my head turned, Greg was
panting in my ear, and I found myself looking into Heather's eyes only
inches away.  She moved in and kissed me warmly, deeply, softly.  "I love
you," she whispered before going away.

   Her kiss was followed by more brief, sweet, loving kisses and soft words
from Stephanie, Kathy, Mom, and Elaine as Greg managed to wiggle enough to
squirm his dick in and out of my tightly pinched cunt while Carl slowly
pistoned in my ass.  I was mashed between them, their cocks tugging and
twisting and stirring my innards.

   It seemed like everyone was stroking and petting me, involving my whole
body in this one wonderful carnal embrace.  I didn't have to do anything,
they were doing it all for me.  All I could do was go along for the ride,
and what a ride it was.  I'd never felt so loved in my entire life!  I was
swept along in an orgasm that went on, and on, and on into the night. 
[DF1]