~Subject: NEW STORY: "The Dare"
~From: mksmith@metronet.com (Michael Kalen Smith)

                          * * * * * * * *
                              THE DARE
                        by Michael K. Smith

   It started with Katie's Official No-Underwear Dare and with the
impossibility of keeping a secret, especially when it has to do
with sex.

   We all go to a private high school, you understand. It's really
a very good school and at least it's coed -- I'd go crazy in an
all-girl school -- but that's balanced out by the stupid uniforms
we have to wear. I mean, we all groan about homework and
everything, but I like most of my teachers (most of the time) and
we also know that most of us are headed for top colleges after we
graduate next year, so the complaints are mostly just for the
record.

   There's also a strenuous athletic program in which all students
are required to participate. Mens sana in corpore sano, and all
that. Most of my close friends and I are on the girls' varsity
swimming team, and I also run track and play field hockey.

   I enjoy my classes and the sports I'm in -- but those uniforms!
Scratchy pleated wool skirts in unimaginative blue plaid, a white
blouse with a plain collar, and black shoes (preferably loafers)
with dark socks. The boys wear dark slacks and shoes, white shirts,
and blue plaid ties to match our skirts. (Somewhere in Scotland,
there's a tartan factory that's gotten rich off schools like mine.)

   I guess the uniform thing is okay when you're in, like, Third
Grade, but when you hit sixteen you begin to feel pretty
silly-looking. There's one variable you can play with to some
extent, though: The length of your skirt. Take Katie, for instance.
At barely sixteen, she's five-ten, with gorgeous long legs. Being
model-slender, her tits aren't very big, so she likes to show off
her legs. She's four inches taller than me but waistband-to-hem her
skirts are the same length as mine.

   The more understanding teachers, men and women both, just kind
of smile when they see how short some of the girls wear their
skirts. That is, you can't actually turn the stupid thing into a
micro-mini, but you can still show a lot of thigh.

   The whole point of this hemline competition, of course, is to
tease the boys (and some of the younger teachers, I have to admit).
And don't they know it!  Guys have been trying to flip up my skirt
for years. I don't really think much about it anymore. It's pretty
harmless and if the boy's cute I might even let him get away with
it. It really bothers some girls, though, mostly the shyer or
prissier ones, and some of them even wear spandex shorts under the
plaid. I think that's kind of paranoid, myself.

   The boys don't often try to "flip" Katie. She's tall enough and
muscular enough from swimming and hockey to really clock any guy
who annoys her. But she always has boyfriends and there are other
guys she flirts with in class and at lunch just for fun, so she's
very popular. In fact, she had kind of a crush on Mr. Robbins last
year in sophomore English and sat in the front row all semester,
giving him peeks up her skirt. He kept looking, too, and it was
hard to keep from laughing. Katie does that kind of thing a lot.

   

   One day when the fall term was nearly over, Katie wore a skirt
on which she had hiked the hem to the max -- only a couple of thin
inches below her crotch. She hadn't been on campus ten minutes
before a couple of the gang, including me, grabbed her and yanked
her into the powder room.

   "Katie, you *can't* wear that skirt!" I began.

   "You'll get suspended from school!" Jan chimed in.

   "Expelled!"  This from Annie.

   "Arrested!"  Jan again.

   ...and on and on. Katie's only reaction was a superior smile.
"You're all wrong. I dug out the Rule Book and it says *nothing*
about how much leg you can show. Only the minimum length of the
skirt itself."  We'd each received a copy of the school's official
"Rules of Public and Private Deportment" booklet when we started
Sixth Grade and it was still the school bible.

   "But, Katie, they were thinking about *average*-sized girls, you
know that!"  Jan was becoming exasperated. She worries about
everyone and everything. Worse than having your mother at school,
sometimes.

   "It isn't what they were thinking that counts, it's what they
put down on paper. If I'm taller than they planned for, too bad." 
Did I mention Katie's planning on going to law school?

   Naturally, I was walking down the hall with Katie on the way to
First Period when Mr. Turner, the vice-principal, popped out of his
glass-walled office, eyes glued to the backs of her thighs. Mr.
Turner's not a bad guy, really, for the school Enforcer. He bends
the rules a lot of the time, especially with students who just mess
up and are sorry for it. But he can be tough as nails with the
occasional serious discipline problem. Of course, with what this
school costs the parents, *those* kids don't last long here.

   "Miss Morris, would you step into my office for a moment,
please? Rebecca, you can go on to class."  Katie raised an eyebrow,
flashed me a 'don't worry' smile, and preceded Mr. Turner through
the door he was holding open for her. We had plenty of time to get
to First Period, so I loitered around the water fountain for a few
minutes. The explosion I was half expecting never came, though.

   Less than five minutes had passed when Katie came sweeping out
of the vice-principal's office grinning ear-to-ear. Mr. Turner,
standing behind her with his hand on the door handle, shook his
head in bemusement.

   "I had the rule already underlined in red in the book," she
whispered. "If I'd smarted off, he would have got me for that. But
I was polite and respectful. I said he couldn't change the rules
the Board had adopted, not if he was going to maintain his image of
playing fair. He said I was 'testing the elasticity of the system',
and to watch myself," she added with a giggle. Yeah, Katie was
going to be a lawyer, all right. Maybe a politician, too.

   First Period was Mrs. Hooper for Economics. Katie sat toward the
back where Hooper couldn't see her and slouched down in her seat.
She spent an amused fifty minutes opening and closing her legs
while all around her the boys kept dropping pens and pencils and
taking an unusually long time picking them up.

   I asked Katie once how she could do such things. Didn't she have
any shame? She seemed honestly bewildered. "What do I have to be
ashamed about? It's not like I was charging for sex or something.
I'm not even giving it away for free. I just like to flirt and so
do the boys I flirt with. They know I'm teasing them and that it's
all a game. I mean, they *know* I'm not some kind of slut, Rebecca.
I'm not an easy lay and you know it. In fact, I'm still a virgin,
just like you. But I'm certainly not ashamed of my body -- and
you're *way* too up-tight!" I finally had to apologize. Katie was
just Katie.

   She was also probably right about me being up-tight. I wished I
*wasn't* so easily embarrassed. I'm just one of those girls who
blushes bright red when I see the cover of PLAYBOY on the
newsstand. I've made out with several boys and enjoyed it a lot.
But that was in private and in the dark, usually. Even the
one-piece swim suit I wear to the beach is only slightly less
conservative than our competition tank suits. But it still makes me
selfconscious because of its low scoop-back and high-cut legs.  I
bought it in a fit of self-criticism after most of my friends
bought skimpy little bikinis, and it was too expensive not to wear.

   Second Period was Mr. Allenby's American Lit class. The girls
all think he's kind of a fox. He has this romantically world-weary
face even though he's only about thirty, as if he'd seen the whole
world and wasn't impressed. He keeps in really good shape, too. The
girls sometimes spend their lunch period in the stands at the
playing field, watching Allenby do his mid-day wind sprints. And
he's single. So it's no surprise Katie was again sitting in the
front row -- just as she has in all her English classes that are
taught by men. She says it's her romantic soul. I think it's
hormones.

   I've always made good grades in English, so I also sat in
Allenby's front row. And I watched while Katie waved her knees back
and forth the whole period and Mr. Allenby kept stumbling over Walt
Whitman. Giggling in class would have been very uncool, but it was
a struggle. Some of the boys obviously knew what Katie was up to
and at least one was biting down on his knuckle to keep from
laughing out loud.

   Those were the only two classes I had with Katie that term but
I heard things from other girls that afternoon. "Katie flashed Mr.
Hamill in Chemistry! Gave him a good look at her underwear and
everything!" Like that.

   So I nabbed her again in the girls' bathroom between Fifth and
Sixth Periods. Jan and Annie (having been corrupted by Katie, I
didn't doubt) were trying to establish how short a minimum- length
skirt would be on themselves. They weren't tall enough, though, so
it wouldn't have been anything dramatic.

   "Oh, Katie, how can a sixteen-year-old be so degenerate?" I said
in despair. (I despair a lot.)

   "I'm not degenerate, Rebecca -- I'm liberated," she replied
indignantly. "And you sound like a preacher."

   Then Jan gave up, hurried into a stall, and slammed the door.
She tends to drink too much coke at lunch and she has the
smallest-capacity bladder in the school. "Katie," she said loudly
over the partition, "I dug out the Rule Book and checked. You're
right, the skirt thing is pretty vague. But *I* wouldn't get that
kind of attention; I'm only five-two." Jan talks prudish sometimes
but she envies Katie her bold and adventurous spirit. So do most of
us, for that matter, though we don't like to admit it.

   Katie was touching up her eye liner as Jan opened the stall door
with a great sigh of relief that made the rest of us laugh. Katie
glanced around to make sure there was no one in the bathroom she
couldn't trust. "I've been thinking about that, you guys. I'm the
only one having any fun around here. Anybody else want to get into
the game?"

   Annie wandered over to listen. Katie looked at me challengingly
and I stopped brushing my hair and paid attention as she dug out
her annotated copy of the Rule Book.

   "There's something else it doesn't say in here," she confided.
"There's not a word about having to wear underwear."

   "Katie!" Annie was horrified. She was one of the bikini girls
and she's certainly no prude, but this was way too much even for
her. "It doesn't say you shouldn't jump off the building, either!
They left out lots of obvious things that no sane person should
have to be told."

   "Besides, they'd just get you on a general 'public disturbance'
rap," Jan added practically as she came out of the stall.

   Katie's eyes were twinkling. "Oh, I know that. But I was just
thinking: Wouldn't it be fun to go without panties for just one
day? We could really freak out the boys. And a few of the teachers,
if we're careful."

   I shook my head. "It'll never work. For one thing, we'd get
caught and suspended. For another, we're all too chicken. I mean,
*you* can get away with stuff like that. God know how, but you
always could. But *we* can't." Annie and Jan were nodding in
agreement.

   "Okay. Then I'll have to escalate this."

   Annie looked horrified again (she's good at that) as she
realized what Katie was about to do. "No! Katie, don't say it!
Don't even think it! You'll just spoil things and break up the
gang!"

   "Nope -- this is the next step, ladies. I'm calling an Official
Dare."

   

   Daring dated back to Fourth Grade, when "the gang" had a
slightly different makeup. Toni Hamilton was sort of the leader
back then. Her father had money and spent plenty of it on her, to
go places and buy things. She was never selfish about it and always
invited her girlfriends along. But Toni was also the daredevil of
the bunch and she dared us into doing all sorts of things against
our better judgment. Like padding our training bras. And wrapping
the oak trees in the Girl Scout leader's front yard in miles of
toilet paper just before a big thunderstorm.

   After Toni's father moved to another city the next year to be
president of some company, the group of us who hung out together
established the rules for Daring. It had to be something major,
preferably something no one in the gang had ever done before. It
couldn't be illegal (no shoplifting contests, for instance). And it
couldn't be physically hazardous. There was also a general
understanding that a proper Dare should focus on growing up, on
becoming adult women.

   Originally, Toni would threaten to exclude from her next
shopping trip or outing anyone who refused a Dare that the others
accepted. She probably wouldn't have carried through with her
threat because she was just too kindhearted to hurt one of her
buddies' feelings, but we never found out because no one ever
refused her. Nor had anyone refused an Official Dare in six years.
It had become almost a holy duty to go along with the gang on
whatever escapade someone thought up and the others agreed to.

   It *was* exciting, I have to admit. And it was much easier to do
something you were nervous or shy about as part of a group of girls
rather than being alone. Now, standing there in the girls'
bathroom, we all looked at each other, wondering if Katie had gone
too far. She seemed to realize the danger, too.

   "Look, you guys, this is a necessity! None of you ever takes
chances anymore. You've all had things too easy for far too long.
You have no sense of adventure. Jeez, you'd think I was daring you
to screw five guys by tomorrow night and produce a teacupful of
jism." Katie seemed to have screwing on her mind today. In that
regard, she wasn't any different, really, from any of the rest of
us on practically *any* given day. And maybe she was right.

   "Katie,... what exactly would this entail? And for how long?"
Everyone's attention locked on me and my tall friend was obviously
relieved.

   "Hmmm. I'll make it easy: No panties or underwear of any kind
between arrival at school and departure in the afternoon. Uh --
none of you are about to have your periods, are you?" Glances at
each other and shakes of the head. "Good. We'll do it this Friday
-- and nobody stays out sick that day unless you really are. And
everyone has to prove to anyone else in the group -- on demand --
that they really are bare-assed, right?"

   I grinned. "Naturally. But no one has to say *anything* about
this to anyone else."

   "Naturally. This is a *private* public thing." She grinned back
and glanced around. Jan seemed doubtful but tempted. Then she began
whispering to Annie, who was the most stubborn and (relatively) the
most conservative of the group.

   I nudged Katie. "What about Mary Ruth? She has to be part of
this. It's going to frighten the pee out of her, but she'll never
forgive us if she gets left out."

   "Yeah. We'll catch her after Sixth Period before she leaves
school."

   "You know, if any of the boys find out, we're all going to
be'flipped'," Jan pointed out.

   "Well, it'll just have to be up to each one of us how much the
boys *do* find out, won't it?" Katie was reckless enough that by
the end of Friday everyone in the school would know what *her* ass
looked like, I thought. But there was a certain boy in my Sociology
class who might also be in for a surprise....  A boy whose
attention I'd been trying to get for several months.

   

   We caught up with Mary Ruth on the way out to the parking lot
and explained the terms of the Dare to her.

   "You two aren't putting me on, are you?" Mary Ruth was the most
suspicious of the bunch.

   "We might pull your leg about a lot of things, but never an
Official Dare," Katie said seriously and crossed her heart.

    Then Mary Ruth surprised us. "Well, I hardly ever wear panties
with slacks or jeans anyway," she said with a smile. "I hate panty
lines and I've got good butt muscles so I can get away with it."
Mary Ruth did have more curves at sixteen than the rest of us.
She'd been the first to get a bra because she actually needed it
and now she was just this side of "meaty," with flaring hips and
emphatic tits and a narrow waist that accentuated everything else.
An earthmother-in- training. Being bare to the world didn't seem to
worry her at all, as long as the rest of us were doing it, too.

   

   Katie had a red Miata, a birthday present from her father for
being in the top two percent of her class academically. She liked
to race madly around in it and she was always willing to give lifts
to her friends, so I was riding to school with her most days. (My
father could easily have afforded a sports car for me, but it went
against his Calvinist principles, so I drove a beat-up old sedan
that I'd saved up for for two years.)

   When we climbed into the low seats, Katie scooted forward and
her red bikinis were instantly revealed -- a brighter shade than
her car, even. I looked at her flaming crotch and then at her face.
The realization had just struck me.

   "You're going panty-less in *that* skirt, aren't you?"

   A slow, innocent smile appeared as she rocketed out of the lot.
"Why would you think that, Rebecca? Why would I take such a risk?"

   "Why, indeed?" I replied with a sigh and closed my eyes so I
wouldn't have to watch the other cars trying to stay out of her
way.

   

   Friday morning, Katie and I both removed our panties in the car
and locked them in the glove compartment. Then the five of us met
in the restroom before class for show-and-tell. Jan was wearing a
longer skirt than usual, but Annie and Mary Ruth and I had made no
changes; our skirts stopped at mid-thigh, as always. Katie, of
course, wore her ultrashort "troublemaker" skirt, which surprised
no one.

   Katie motioned us into a circle and counted down from three. At
"Blast off!" we all raised our skirts high to demonstrate our
nakedness. Oddly, we all stood there for half a minute, plaid wool
gathered around our waists, and studied each others' genitals. Jan
was a natural blonde and her pubic hair was fine and sparse against
her tan, exposing the top of her slit. Annie was the opposite, with
thick, very black hair and a porcelain complexion; her dark, curly
patch was neatly trimmed and groomed. Mary Ruth cocked her hip and
grinned as we all stared at her crotch: She'd gone radical and
shaved her pussy completely. That little-girl touch, combined with
her natural earthiness, was especially sexy.  Katie's narrow hips
made the rectangular lawn above her slit even more prominent. She
also has a clit that just won't stay indoors and we could see it
peeking out between the folds. I don't think of my own "safe haven"
as unusual at all -- I don't even trim it very much -- but I
decided I could hold my own in this crowd. I wondered if I was
already blushing, just by reflex.

   Katie lowered her skirt, which concealed her goodies with maybe
an inch to spare. "Well, ladies -- and today I use the term loosely
-- lets go out there and see what happens!"

   In Hooper's Economics class, Katie sat in the very last row,
chair pushed up against the wall. Glancing back at her
unobtrusively, I saw that she had hooked a heel over the chair rung
so one knee was several inches higher than the other. When she
spread her legs even a little bit, it was pretty obvious what she
wasn't wearing. Instead of the usual gleeful smirks, the boys
around her all seemed stunned. They whispered urgently to each
other and craned their necks and licked their lips. Katie pretended
to ignore them, a faint smile the only indication that she knew
what sort of spectacle she was providing.

   I saw one of the boys pass her a note. She glanced toward the
front of the room, then read the note and tried unsuccessfully to
smother a grin. Nonchalantly, she shifted position until her
kneecaps were aimed straight at the note-passer. Then, as I goggled
at her insane nerve, she spread her knees a foot apart for a long
count of ten. Her target stared openmouthed and I wondered if his
erection would keep him trapped in his seat when the bell rang.

   A girl nearby turned her head at the strange, restless
throat-clearing in the back of the room and did a doubletake. She
stared as hard as the boys, more intrigued than horrified, it
seemed. I didn't really know her, but she had a reputation for
taking long showers in gym and for wandering nearly naked around
the locker room, chatting with her classmates while they were
changing. We kind of wondered about her sometimes, but I doubted
she was going to blow the whistle.

   Strangely, I hadn't felt much different without panties until
that moment. Then, suddenly, I was very aware of the wool tickling
my butt and of the increasing moistness between my legs. I
fantasized about hiking my skirt up and burying a finger or two,
and wondered if I would make it to the end of the day without a
public orgasm.

   In the front row of Mr. Allenby's class, Katie was more careful,
keeping her knees level and parting them only a little, and only
when Allenby was looking directly at her. The light was so good and
her skirt so short, I knew he had a clear view right up her
fallopian tubes.

   He usually stayed in one spot, leaning on the lectern as he
talked, but this morning he abruptly decided to ramble. Maybe
Katie's uncovered twat was too much for him. When he paused in
front of my seat, at what he probably thought was the "safe" end of
the front row, I took a chance without even thinking. Scooting my
hips forward in an unaccustomed slouch, I raised one knee and
spread my thighs. Allenby looked up my skirt, hesitated, and stared
me in the eye with a very confused expression. I winked at him but
never cracked a smile. The poor man sat back against his desk and
looked faint. He finally made it back to the lectern, where he
studied the lighting fixtures as he talked for the rest of the
period.

   Katie and I giggled in the hall after class. "I can't believe
you did that, Rebecca!"

   "I've been hanging around you too long!"

   "So, tell: What did your first flash feel like?"

   "Well, kind of sexy," I admitted. "And I felt kind of powerful."

   "Yeah, I've noticed that, too. Of course, if you flash the wrong
person at the wrong time, you could get into a bad situation, kid."

   "I'll just have to be careful, then." I looked around but no one
was eavesdropping. "It's really strange. I don't think panties make
that much physical difference,... but I'm more aware of myself
right now than usual, that's for sure. It must be psychological."

   She gave me a look. "Don't overanalyze, Rebecca. This is
supposed to be a thrill thing. Just enjoy it."

   "Oh, I am, I am!" She giggled again at my expression.

   

   We compared notes with the others in the lunchroom. "I had a
little adventure in Art this morning," Mary Ruth said smugly. "I
was sitting on one of the tall stools, working on a watercolor, and
I started to feel kind of, um... hot. I wanted to sit on my fingers
but I couldn't, of course. But that paint brush had a *very* long
handle...."

   "You didn't!" Jan squealed and we shushed her. "You got yourself
off with a paintbrush? In class?"

   "Yeah, sure did. I haven't checked yet, but since I was painting
with crimson at the time, my box probably looks like a baboon's."

   Annie spoke up. "Guys, there's one thing all of us forgot about:
Gym."

   Jan looked startled and muttered "Oh, shit." That hadn't
occurred to me, either. How to explain the lack of underwear in the
locker room? Annie was the only one of us with morning P.E.

   "So, how did you handle it?" I wanted to know.

   "Oh, I just pulled my gym shorts up and *then* took off my
skirt. I've noticed a few of the 'bashful flowers' doing that, so
nobody paid any attention."

   "I don't think I'll bother to hide it," Katie said thoughtfully.
Naturally. But she didn't have Gym until last period anyway and
sometimes didn't shower until she got home because she liked to be
first out of the parking lot. So it probably wouldn't matter.

   Jan's morning had been less eventful, except that she'd had to
make more trips to the bathroom than usual. She'd gotten so horny
just *imagining* people knew she wasn't wearing panties, she'd had
to jack off twice. Mary Ruth's bare and cavernous cunt had caused
her some additional concern. In Home Ec, she'd actually stuffed
three cotton balls into herself, she was dripping so much from
arousal.

   

   My Sociology teacher, Mr. Irons, was the oldest teacher around.
He was more or less alive but he never noticed who sat where, so we
migrated around the room as we chose -- practicing the social
dynamics Irons was supposed to be lecturing about. Today, I grabbed
the chair at Charlie Harker's right so I could swivel around to the
left if I wanted to. He was going to notice me or else.

   Twenty minutes into the lecture, Irons was doing his trademark
unfocused drone and most of the class was ignoring him. Charlie was
drawing little doodles in his notebook. I raised myself off the
seat a little and slowly eased my skirt an inch higher. Then I
turned ninety degrees to face Charlie. The girl behind me was
dozing (Mr. Irons right after a big lunch was deadly) and no one
else was watching. I took a deep breath; what I was about to do was
completely unlike me, but a couple of covert glances at Charlie
helped me make up my mind.

   Charlie Harker was about six feet tall, wide in the shoulders,
and narrow in the waist. His eyes were brilliant blue and his hair
was short and very black. He had big hands and long, tapering
fingers, and I'd heard him beat a piano keyboard into submission at
more than one party. He was also captain of the boys' varsity
swimming team and just remembering what he looked like in a swim
suit gave me palpitations. He was unarguably gorgeous. And he
didn't have a steady girlfriend.

   I stuck out my foot and quietly tapped Charlie's chair leg. He
glanced over and I gave him the warmest smile I could muster. He
blinked and smiled back kind of absently. I leaned back farther,
propped a foot on the chair rung as I'd seen Katie do, and eased my
skirt even higher. He blinked again, looked at the gap between my
knees ... then looked again much harder and seemed to wake up.

   "Rebecca, what are you doing?" he demanded under his breath.

   "It's called 'vamping'," I hissed back. "I'm trying to get your
attention."

   He gave me a peculiar look. "You succeeded. You're a strange
girl, Rebecca."

   "Why don't you ask me out?" I replied. "I could be even
stranger. You never know."

   "I don't think so. Why don't you stop this? You're embarrassing
yourself."

   I popped open the top button of my blouse and he blinked again.
"How about if I just take off *all* my clothes?"

   He looked quickly around but there was no place he could escape
to. "Rebecca! You'd better stop, or---"

   "Or what? You'll scream for help?" I tapped the next button with
my fingernail. The tiny *click* *click* actually made him flinch.
What was wrong with this guy? What was wrong with me?

   "We'll talk later," he said and turned away resolutely. And he
totally ignored me for the rest of the period.

   

   On the way upstairs for math the next period, I ran into Annie
coming down. She seemed flushed and kind of excited. I stopped her
on the landing and said in a significant tone, "How's it going?"

   She grinned. "I thought this would be scary but it's really kind
of exciting!" she replied in a low tone.

   Without taking my eyes off her face, I said casually, "You know,
don't you, that there's a couple of freshman boys down there
looking up our skirts?" Her grin disappeared and she shifted her
weight as if to move away. She hesitated and flicked a glance
downward. Then she winked and managed to drop one of her books.
When she half-crouched and half-bent to retrieve it, her back to
the railing, I heard an audible gasp from below. I wondered if the
lurking freshmen had wet their pants. When I looked down, one of
them had his mouth open so wide I could have dropped my purse into
it without touching the sides. I was beginning to realize what
Katie meant about "power."

   Math was kind of boring. Mrs. McKelvy wasn't the sort of person
you could wiggle your bare ass at, and we also had to sit
alphabetically -- which happened to put me in the middle of a bunch
of other girls. I glanced around and saw a couple of them eyeing me
curiously; they obviously suspected something was going on but
didn't know just what. None of my buddies were there to trade
secret smiles with so I just sat and doodled Charlie's name
(entwined with red hearts) in my notebook and kept my legs together
while I waited for the period to end.

   Jan's Fifth Period class had been next door so she met me in the
hall and we adjourned to the girls' bathroom, as we did everyday at
this time. Katie and Mary Ruth were already there, looking smug,
and Jan showed up a few seconds later.

   Katie checked the stalls quickly and then murmured "Everyone
still bare?" She flipped her skirt up in front to prove *she* was,
anyway, and the rest of us giggled and followed suit.

   "I sure seem to be dropping a lot of books on the stairs today,"
Annie said thoughtfully. "Twice just on the way in here." The rest
of us cracked up.

   " I think the boys in Government have figured out the Dare,"
Mary Ruth reported. "They kept staring at my crotch and I finally
had to excuse myself and duck into the toilet so I could get myself
off. I've *never* gotten that overheated in school before!" God, I
thought, she's getting to be like Jan.

   "What about you, Rebecca?" Katie asked with a grin. "Anything
unusual to report?"

   "Well, I gave Charlie Harker an eyeful but I think it just
pissed him off. I thought this no-panties stunt would get his
attention for sure."

   Jan shrugged. "Maybe he's gay or something...."

   That really made me mad -- I wasn't sure why. I spun around so
quick, Jan jumped back out of reach with a startled look. "Don't
you say that! Charlie's not gay!" How could they think such a
thing? "I'm going to get to him one way or another before I leave
this building today! I swear I am!" I glared around at my friends.

   Katie made 'there, there' motions with her hands. "She didn't
mean anything by it, Rebecca. Nobody thinks Charlie's gay. Just
calm down, okay?" I let myself be soothed and wondered why I'd
flared up like that in defense of Charlie's heterosexuality. Maybe
I was secretly afraid he really was gay. That would take me off the
hook but it would also mean Charlie was beyond reach of my wiles.
And I wanted Charlie so bad, it kept me awake at night. But he was
targeted now: I'd just committed myself to my mission in front of
all my friends. That boy wouldn't know what hit him.

   

   I happened to know that Charlie worked in the Journalism office
during Sixth Period and he often stayed an hour or so late, working
on a story. Well,... truthfully, I didn't just "happen" to know.
I'd stealthily followed him a few times.

   So I hurried out of my last period Health class, where an
embarrassed Mrs. Collins was trying to deal with "Friday Question
Time." The idea was for students to bring in anonymous written
questions they were too shy to ask out loud. Then there'd be an
open discussion. But the students always put a lot of thought into
concocting questions that would lead Mrs. Collins right into deep
water.

   Ninety seconds later, I was peeking through the window in the
Journalism office door. Charlie was still in there, all right, and
he seemed to be alone. He was hunched over a mousepad and staring
at a monitor, probably trying to fit in a story that was too long.

   How much longer would he be staying, though, on a Friday? The
building had emptied even faster than usual, with most of the kids
hurrying home to get ready for dates. Did Charlie have a date
later? I hoped Katie wouldn't get mad at me for making her wait in
the parking lot. After about ten minutes, Charlie still didn't seem
ready to quit for the day and I hadn't seen another soul, so I took
a deep breath and quietly opened the door. I slipped in and turned
the inside deadbolt as silently as I could with my hands shaking
the way they were. I slowly pulled the shade down over the window
and Charlie looked up at the sudden change in the lighting.

   "Hi, Charlie," I said softly as I walked over to the desk where
he was working.

   "Rebecca? What are you doing in here?" He glanced at his
wristwatch. "Why are you still at school at all?" He swiveled his
chair around and frowned at me.

   "You said we were going to talk later, remember?" I was shaking
with nervous tension as I moved up so close he had to lean back in
his chair. What if he just laughed and told me to go home? I mean,
I was a junior and he was a senior; maybe that made a difference to
him. I put one hand carefully on his shoulder and prayed he
wouldn't get angry and shake it off.

   But he didn't. He just sat there with his elbows resting on the
arms of his chair, staring at me. He had every right to. I didn't
make a habit of coming on to guys, not seriously, and this was the
second time I'd done it to him in a single day.

   "Don't you like me, Charlie...?" I put my other hand on his
other shoulder and leaned my knees against his.

   He swallowed and began to look uneasy. "Sure, I like you,
Rebecca. But I don't think--"

   "I like you a *lot*, Charlie." I heard the huskiness in my own
voice and I knew he could feel the trembling through my hands.
"Don't you want to touch me?" I reached down, took his hands in
mine, and set them on my hips. He seemed kind of stunned as I
stared deep into his eyes.

   "Move your hands down, Charlie. C'mon -- do it...." And he did,
letting those long fingers trail downward to my thighs. He paused
and swallowed again, and his big hands began moving back up, under
my skirt this time. Little thrill bumps popped out all over my legs
as his hands encircled my thighs just below my crotch. My nipples
tightened up and all their nerve endings switched on HIGH. I leaned
my hips forward a little more and Charlie's thumbs slid up to the
bottom edge of my pussy.

   I moaned a little. I couldn't help it. And that sound seemed to
jolt Charlie out of his mental paralysis. He stood up so suddenly
I almost fell over backward. His hands clutched my arms and the way
those deep blue eyes glimmered down at me, I couldn't breathe.

   "What do you want from me, Rebecca? Why are you doing this?" He
shook me a little for emphasis. Ordinarily, I probably would have
been frightened, but not now.

   "You know what I want," I replied. "And you know what you want
to do, too, don't you, Charlie?" I pulled loose of his grip and
slipped my arms up and around his neck, pulling his face down
within reach. At the last moment, he regained the initiative and
kissed me first. My knees went weak from the jolt of electricity
that shot through me. I remembered studying spark gaps in science
class and wondered if that was what was happening between my legs.
And I was *very* aware of the twitching of his penis against my
stomach.

   He kissed me so hard I thought my teeth were going to bend. "Why
are you doing this?" he moaned again, even as his hands were hiking
up the back of my skirt and then squeezing my bare butt like a
couple of grapefruits.

   

   I have to confess something here: Not only was I a virgin, I'd
never even gone this far with a boy before. I'd wanted to but I'd
always managed to stay in control, afraid that if I continued
whatever it was I was doing, I'd get my ticket punched for sure.
And I figured I'd regret it later, in the cool light of reason.

   This time, I wasn't so sure I cared -- not while Charlie's long
middle finger was stroking the cleft between my ass cheeks like
that. Did I want to quit being a virgin? I knew how to do it, in
theory. I'd even watched an adult x-rated film that Katie had
somehow gotten hold of the previous summer. And some of what I'd
seen in the film came back to me.

   I kissed Charlie again but let my hands fall down between us. I
stroked his thick, rigid cock through the front of his pants and
was surprised (and a little scared) at how large it seemed to be.
Would it even fit in me if we got that far? One step at a time,
Rebecca!

   Charlie went sort of rigid and still when I started sliding down
his zipper. "Rebecca...?" he said in a low, warning tone. It was
like I was turning the key that opened the lion's cage but I
managed it without too much fumbling. I had touched exactly two
penises in my life, neither of them as large and threatening as
this one. And I'd certainly never been the aggressor like this.

   As Charlie's cock pushed its way out of its confinement, I
swallowed and then put both hands around it and looked up into
Charlie's eyes again. His lips were parted a little and his eyes
were half-closed, and he stood very still. I wondered what would
happen if I chickened out and immediately tucked that monster back
in its hiding place again. Well, I'd have an immediate reputation
as a "tease," for one thing. And I certainly would mess up the only
chance I probably would ever have to put my female power to work on
Charlie Harker.

   So I slid my hands lightly up and down a little -- I'd done
*that* before -- and I thought again about what I'd seen in that
adult film. What I had in mind didn't seem too difficult when I'd
watched those actresses doing it; they'd even seemed to enjoy it,
even if they were acting. And I was sure Charlie kept himself nice
and clean.

   I took another deep breath as I knelt in front of this gorgeous
guy I seemed to have trapped. He rested his hands on top of my head
and let his fingers sift slowly through my hair. It gave me chills,
and courage. His cock was completely stiff, now, like a big pinkish
salami, but softer to the touch. I held it in my hands like a big
lollypop and stuck out my tongue, just touching it at first, then
licking the underside of the flared head.

   It didn't taste nasty or anything and I wondered why some girls
made such a big deal about oral sex. That question was answered a
few seconds later when I rather timidly opened my mouth wide and
took in the whole head of Charlie's penis. I squeezed my lips
around it and brushed the tip of my tongue back and forth across
the little hole. He quivered and tightened his grip on my hair, and
leaned forward a little too far. I couldn't draw back and suddenly
my mouth was full of warm cock and I was on the edge of panic. I
had flashes of choking to death; how would they ever explain to my
parents how their daughter died? I managed to make an urgent
*ummmpph* sound.

   Charlie immediately loosened his hold and withdrew almost
entirely from my mouth. "Sorry," he muttered hoarsely. "Sorry,
Rebecca." He hadn't been able to control himself for a moment there
-- Charlie Harker, who *never* lost his cool. Yeah, this was power,
all right.

   I tried it again, this time gripping the base of his cock firmly
with one hand and lightly cradling his balls in my other. I was
amazed how soft and cuddly they felt -- and how vulnerable they
were, too. I began moving my mouth up and down and swabbing my
tongue around everywhere.

   I stopped worrying about gagging and found I was actually
enjoying myself. More than that, I was thinking about where this
big piece of live meat was really intended to go and it was giving
me tingly feelings between my legs. I wanted to stick one hand up
under my skirt and stroke my little bud but I couldn't do it in
front of Charlie,... even though I was kneeling here with his cock
in my mouth.

   I went up and down the length of his penis, first sucking on the
head, then trying to gobble up as much of the shaft as I could,
then letting it pop out so I could stick my tongue out and lick it
all over. And after a few minutes, poor Charlie was barely able to
stand upright, his knees were shaking so badly. I remembered (boy,
did I remember!) how, when I played with myself at night sometimes,
how I really lost it when I came. I mean, if my father had walked
into my room five seconds before my orgasm, I still wouldn't have
been able to stop. But somehow, it had never occurred to me that a
boy could get that emotionally involved in sex.

   Then Charlie said in a tight voice, "If you keep going, Rebecca,
I'm going to come in your mouth. If you don't want me to, I guess
you'd better stop."

   I slowed while I thought about that but I didn't stop. The
actresses in the film I'd seen had let the guys squirt all over
their breasts and stuff, but I was still completely dressed.
Besides, I'd come this far.... I glanced up at Charlie's face and
increased the suction.

   The dam burst ten seconds later, with gobs of jism spattering
the back of my throat and his cock jerking in my grip. I just
swallowed as rapidly as I could and kept on sucking. After four or
five big eruptions and a whole lot of little ones, he seemed to run
dry and leaned back against the edge of his desk, gasping for
breath. His cock was beginning to shrink; it didn't look so scary
any longer.

   Charlie helped me climb to my feet and the uncertain smile on
his red face and the beads of sweat running down his neck made me
feel like the Princess of Power. I knew, deep down, that Charlie
was basically a nice guy, and that I might be feeling differently
if he had been some sleeze who tried to go to the next level. But
that was one of the reasons I was so crazy about Charlie.

   Good thing, too, because somewhere along the line I had decided
I really wasn't ready to stop being a virgin, not yet, not even
with Charlie Harker. I'd given my first ever blow job and that was
enough for right now.

   

   After a minute or so, Charlie had his breath back and had put
his cock back in his pants and zipped them up. "Rebecca, I repeat
what I said earlier: You are definitely a strange girl!" But he was
smiling warmly down at me when he said it so I smiled back. "I'm
not even going to ask you again what possessed you to come in here
this afternoon. But I'm sure never going to forget it." He reached
out and gently traced the outline of my jaw with a fingertip; it
felt wonderful.

   "And this is probably going to sound strange under the
circumstances," he went on, with a crooked grin, "but would you
mind if I called you up this weekend? Maybe we could go out
together? Go to a show or something -- maybe just go for a
walk...?"

   Part of me wanted to jump up and down and yell "Ya-hoo!" but I
controlled it. Besides....  "Charlie, I'd love to -- but it
wouldn't be just for sex, would it? I loved doing this for you, but
I don't want you to think... I mean, I don't want you to ask me out
just so you can do it to me." And I held my breath.

   "Rebecca, would you believe me if I said the thought of kissing
you and at least making out with you again hasn't crossed my mind?
I've been thinking about asking you out for at least a month: I
just hadn't gotten up the courage yet."

   He looked sort of embarrassed by the admission. I was just
surprised. I mean, I figured a guy as nice-looking as that would
have his choice of all the little cheerleaders and bimbettes in
school. And he was trying to get up the courage to ask *me* out?

   He saw my expression of disbelief and looked sheepish. "Yeah, I
know what you're thinking. But I can't help it -- I'm just very shy
around girls, okay? Half the dates I have are because the *girl*
invited me to a dance or a party or something. But you're
definitely different, Rebecca. And you're nice. Strange, but nice.
So -- can I call you?"

   I felt terrific... and a little stupid around the edges for not
figuring out some of this earlier. "Call me, Charlie! I'll be
waiting!"

   "Great!" He looked around and began gathering up his books and
his jacket. "Can I offer you a ride home?"

   Omigod! Katie! "Oh, shit! There's a friend of mine waiting for
me out in the parking lot!" I looked at my watch. Nearly an hour
since the last bell. Katie wouldn't be there -- but she'd sure have
a thing or two to say the next time I saw her. My friend was a lot
of things but patient wasn't one of them, and she hated
unpunctuality.

   Two minutes later, Charlie was hurrying to keep up with me as I
ran down the echoing hall to the door that led to the student
parking area. When I burst through, I looked around quickly and saw
only a couple of the school's maintenance pickups and Charlie's
beat-up old Mustang -- and then Katie's Miata cruised out slowly
from behind one of the trucks. I hurried over, out of breath, and
Katie pushed her shades down her nose so she could stare at me over
them. She can be pretty intimidating when she does that.

   "Katie, I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, I should have told you
I was going, uh,... on an errand...." I knew I was babbling. But
Katie was looking past me at Charlie as he wandered down the
asphalt path, trying to juggle both his books and mine after our
mad rush out of the building.

   "After fifteen minutes, Rebecca, I almost left," Katie said
solemnly, never taking her eyes off Charlie. "But I got curious,
after what you said in the powder room. Looks like you weren't
kidding...." She looked up at me and then peered more closely. "Got
something white drying on your chin." And leered in a sisterly way
that made me grin back and turn bright red at the same time.

   Charlie arrived while I was scraping madly with my fingernail at
the crusted semen that had dribbled over my lip and down my chin.
"Hi, Katie," he said cheerfully and turned to me. "So, you've got
a way home, then, right? So I'll call you tonight, okay?" I nodded
and watched the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he
smiled. 'Looks like you've got a boyfriend now', I thought to
myself. And it looks like your days as a virgin are numbered.

   He stood there, digging out his own car keys and smiling at me
as I started to climb in beside Katie. Then, on a sudden impulse,
I stood up on the seat and flipped up the back of my skirt as Katie
put the car in gear. I didn't look back as I settled in, but I
could hear Charlie's incredulous shout of laughter mixed with
Katie's soprano chortle as we spun gravel out of the parking lot.

   

                                 END

   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~ Copyright 1994 by Michael K. Smith. Copies may be made and
posted elsewhere for personal enjoyment, but all commercial rights
are reserved.
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~~~~~~~~