by Gloria
“Good God, Amber. It really happened. Your parents stripped you! Forever what for?”
“My folks didn’t strip me,” I said with a scowl. “Whoever put that rumor out is so bogus. My mom and dad signed us all up to be Permanude.”
“That’s horrible.” “That’s terrible for someone with your fashion sense.” “What are you going to do with us now that you can’t buy clothes?”
“Likely save a lot of money, although, my jewelry budget may go through the roof,” I admitted.
“Wow, if anyone in this class, no, this school had to go in their skin, I’d say it was you. You’re really rocking that look,” a guy said, but he was talking to my pussy.
“You know, you can veto your folks’ thing,” one of my friends said. “I’ve seen it somewhere.”
“I know. My folks told me. I’ve got thirty days to decided.”
“I would have decided in thirty seconds. I mean, I don’t want any guy’s eyes eating my taco.”
“Yeah, in a month, everyone will have seen everything you’ve got, Amber.”
I chuckled. Mom had suggested a comeback for that one. “Hell, girls, by noon every guy in this school will have gotten a good look at my cunnie. But just because guys are looking at my hooha doesn’t mean they’re eat any of my cheese.”
“That’s a real neat attitude.”
And that was the way my first naked meet up with my friends went down. I cut them no slack and they couldn’t get any out of me. I left them as we walked past the office. I turned in my paperwork to a seriously surprised office staff. You’d think that this being Florida there would be plenty of nudists.
It being high school, there weren’t so many.
Mother had done her best to prepare me for my first day naked at school, and I thought she’d succeeded. Right up to the moment I walked down the main hall on my way to my first class.
Everyone stopped to look at me. Eyes got wide. Some people did the classic double take. They’d see me, turn back to their business, then their heads would snap around for a second disbelieving look. Some stared. Some stared with their jaw dropping open. Some ogled me. Others leered.
It didn’t matter if they were boys or girls. I got serious eyeball attention.
Some of it was cute; the freshmen boys that walked into walls or each other or tripped, sometimes over their own feet. There was nothing funny about other fellows that would not take their eyes off me.
I’d met guys that undressed me with their eyes. I even had one for a boyfriend. Now they didn’t need to strip me. In their eyes, I saw them fondling me, rubbing me, raping me.
Mother had given me a mental image of myself. I was a naked goddess. It worked.
Sometimes.
Then I’d turn a corner, or see some jerk fucking me with his eyes and my mental image of myself would crumble. I’d feel dirty, embarrassed, humiliated. I’d want to hide, or cover myself up.
They’d look at me like trash they could use and throw away and I’d feel like their trash.
Then I’d hear the click of my high heels, or feel the diamond collar or bracelet on my skin and I’d remember who I was. What I was. This was my body. I loved it. I was proud of it. It was not dirty; I was beautiful.
Yes, walking the halls that day was quite the experience. And, just as Mom warned me, it was also a hot experience. A glance down at myself as I slipped into my desk in home room showed my tits hard as my diamond neckless and my lower lips, red as my lipstick, swollen and slipping out for all to see.
By third period, I was so hot I had to take Mom’s advice. I seat was well towards the back of the room, over by the wall in Twentieth Century American Lit class. I sat up tall, but I let my hand slip down to rub myself. I tried to keep my legs closed, but as the pleasure started to course through me, I just couldn’t keep them from falling open.
It was impossible not to see the girls around me lose all interest in class. Their eyes grew wide as they took in what I was doing. The boys just froze into statues; they hardly breathed. I felt my orgasm coming at me like surf pounding the beach and let it take me.
I leaned forward, not quite laying my head down on my desk. I opened my mouth, but kept myself from moaning. How? I have no idea.
I barely had time to recover before the teacher asked, “Is everything okay back there?”
The rest of the kids around me were still in shock. “Yes, ma’am,” I said. “Everything’s fine.”
“Good. Now, Amber, what’s your opinion of the character’s behavior in this chapter. Is she changed by what she does?”
“Oh, yes ma’am,” I said, to soft giggles from those around me.”
After the bell rang, the teacher called me up to her desk. “Will that be a normal part of your class participation,” she asked, not defining her pronoun.
“I don’t know, ma’am. This is my first day, ah, nude. It’s an entirely new experience.”
“I imagine so,” she said, dryly. “A most distracting one.”
Time in class was survivable. The real challenge was getting between classes.
I did my best to stride confidently down the halls. My three-inch heels boasted my five ten to six one and I towered over nearly everyone. The purposeful click of my high heels sure put the shuffling of tennis shoes to shame. So, I walked the halls between classes, both the least dress and most overdressed girl in the school. Most kids, both boys and girls stayed well away from me, as if just the touch of me might make their clothes fall off.
Every once in a while, one of the boys would kind of get that deer in a headlight look. It was so tempting to grab my guns, point them at such a kid and see if he’d just disintegrate from the laser beams in my tits.
Not everyone stayed out of my space. There were guys, the dudes that considered themselves God’s gift to every women on Earth. They’d try to saunter up to me real cool, thinking they could get up close and feelie with me. It was easy to spot those kind. The leer on their faces made it easy to read their minds as they tried to put a move on me. I’d give them the eye, waited for them to blink, then raise my chin.
None laid a finger on me.
Except for William.
He sauntered up to me, draped his arm around my shoulder and didn’t quite take a feel of my breast. Then, as he leaned in to give me a kiss, he made a grab for my pussy.
Why was I so sure that he was going to go for that.
“Oh, sorry,” I said as I ground my stiletto heel into the toe of his fashionable suede loafers.
“Yeeks, woman! You hurt me!”
“I said I was sorry,” I repeated, then leaned in close to his ear. “Don’t ever make a move for my pussy. The next thing I grind my heels into will be your dick,” I whispered with a no nonsense threat in my voice.
“You know you wanted me to. Shit, babe, you shaved the damn thing. You want it grabbed.” Can you leer with words? William was sure doing a great job of trying.
“I shaved my pussy because I wanted to shave my pussy,” I explained as you might to a very willful four-year-old. “Keep that in mind. It’s my pussy and I will do with it as I please. You are rapidly losing any chance of ever getting near it. Understand me.”
“Ha. You’re just a cock teaser. A frigid pussy that’s too tight for anything. Now you’re prancing around showing all you got and giving out none of it. You’re disgusting.”
On that, we parted company. I kind of hoped we’d parted ways for good.
I should be so lucky.
Come lunch time, I joined my usual table. It included my seven best and longest friends. Suddenly, everyone in school knew that William had broken up with me. It was the only talk at the table.
“You know, he’s telling everyone that you’re a frigid cock teaser and a crazy bitch that doesn’t know what you want. That the only reason you got naked was to try and keep him from breaking up with you.”
I made a circle in the air with my forefinger. “The internal logic of that spiel is seriously deficient.”
“Amber, you’ve got to get your story out. Why are you breaking up with one of the hottest and hunkiest guy in the school?”
“Is ‘because he’s an asshole and I just notice it’ a good enough reason?”
“There’s an awful lot of girls standing in line to make a play for him, Amber. You really ought to get him back before you lose him.”
“What about the asshole part of William didn’t you understand?”
“Well, I’m just saying.”
“Thank you for saying it,” I said, and failed to wring the sarcasm out of my words.
“Amber, you’ve changed. You turn eighteen, you ditch the likely prom king and you’re naked.”
“No, I’m not naked. I’ve got on more jewelry than any girl here.”
“But it’s not covering the right places.”
“Summer, have you ever considered that I might like all those right places and don’t care if they’re out there. We all have them. Why are you covering yours up?”
“Am, you have something seriously wrong with you.”
“Yeah. Oh, Summer, my name is Amber. It’s not so long that you can’t say all of it.”
It was not one of the better lunches of my high school career.
I dismissed myself early to spend some quality time in the girls’ room. I figured I could do number one and three at the same time. There were several problems. It’s cold in there, and I really felt that cold toilet seat. It also smelled. Orgasm and stink just don’t go well together. And if all that wasn’t enough, there was no way to get any real privacy.
“What’cha doing in there,” seemed the most popular words in the English vocabulary.
I finally went for the truth. “Jilling off. You want to crawl under the divide and lick me?”
Oh, the silence. Of course, I had to keep quiet too.
As I washed my hands, five girls wanted to know, “You weren’t really doing that, were you?”
I just gave then my best scowl and they kind of melted out the door.
My last class, computer science and system analysis did not hold my attention. I had the assignment finished before the hour was halfway gone.
That left me with time on my hands. Tempting as it was to get myself off, I found I was more in need of some thinking than sexual relief.
I’d picked up most of my girl friends when I transferred into the district in the eighth grade. When I went to high school, I selected the Science, Technology, Engineering and Math track. The hard school, or as my father was want to call it, the real school.
Most of my friends were floating through. A few were on the college track for a BA or something. None of them were with me in the STEM track.
Why was that, exactly? I filed that for later reflection and turned back to my friends. I’d been afraid of letting my friends see me naked. Today, it was as if I was seeing them naked. Now that I was getting a good look at them for the first time, I wasn’t at all sure I liked what I saw
I glanced around the computer science class. So many of the students were hard at work. They were kind of nerds, but then, I was a kind of a nerd. Hell, my parents were nerds!
Why had I never made friends among these people? I didn’t have an answer for that. Something in me thought that I really needed that answer.
The final buzzer of the day went off and I really didn’t have any answers. Oh, I had the assignment done, but my life? As usual, a work in progress.
In the parking lot after school, I got quite a few invitations to hang out here or there. It seemed like becoming the naked girl at school could make me the most popular girl in school. Any doubt that I might have still had about my mom and dad’s reflections that I was one hot chick kind of vanished in the flood of invites to go some place, do some thing. Be with the cool kids.
It wasn’t that the naked chick was suddenly cool. I’d spent a big chunk of my time with these kids. Yesterday, I’d been delighted to have so many of them wish me happy birthday. If you’d asked me yesterday if I was one of the cool kids, I would have told you, sure, that’s me.
But I kept wondering, if my mom hadn’t decked me out in this bejeweled power suit that had helped her find her center, would these “friends” of mine have eaten me alive?
If I’d shown up today, feeling all naked and vulnerable, would they have turned on me and ripped my naked body and ego to shreds?
“I’d better head for the house,” I finally told them. “Too much partying yesterday and I’m behind in some of my work.”
“Oh, Amber, you’ve always got your nose in a book. Too much work makes Jane plain.”
“Too little studying,” I pointed out, “makes Amber flunk.”
“When have you ever flunked a test. You’re an easy A.”
“I only make it look easy. Listen, girls, I’m heading home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Don’t forget to check in on our twitter stream to see what you’re missing,” was the last admonition as I unlocked my car and got in.
My thoughts spun as I drove home. The day had been . . . weird. I’d been excited more often than I’d admitted, striding the halls in my skin and power jewelry. How quickly I’d began to let all the ogling and leers slide off my back . . . or front. I’d easily slipped into luxuriating in the jaw drops, the sudden lumpy pants that needed moved around, the open adulation from some girls. I’d even treasured the daggers from others as they elbowed their boyfriends and hauled them out of my way.
Mom had told me last night that the gods and goddesses were nude. That that was part of their power. If I could find the power of the goddess buried down there under my clothes, I could rock my skin. The jewelry was only there to help me channel that power.
Today had shown me that I could.
Oh, and it left me hot as a Florida beach on the Fourth of July. I know, being a nudist wasn’t supposed to be about sex, but all those looks, those reactions, they had me tingling down there and the short quick, quietly swallowed orgasms snuck here or there just hadn’t done it for me.
I found my hand that wasn’t on the wheel drifting to caress my breast. The A/C had hardened my nipples. Or maybe something else had? I played with my tits, then found I needed to play with my pussy. One swipe through my crack, I told myself.
My touch was like an electric shock that shot up and down my whole body. I was sopping wet. A shudder took me and left me hardly able to move.
Did I need to rush this home? Could I even get myself home?
Suddenly, I was ravaged by a need I could not resist. I didn’t want to resist.
I was driving home the beach drive. There were small look outs and parking spots for tourist gawkers or fishermen. I pulled into one and parked facing the gulf. I slipped the seat back, spread my legs, rested my three-inch heel clad feet on the dash board and closed my eyes.
My finger found my clit; it was so swollen. One finger wasn’t enough; I spread three fingers flat on my twat and ran them slowly up and down wet lips. I felt waves of passion flowing over me.
Even with my fingertips massaging the opening to my depths, my clit was still crying out for touch. I made smaller and smaller circles on it with my thumb . . . then mashing it down hard the next stroke.
I massaged my pebbled tit with my free hand. It seemed like every nerve ending in my body was singing.
Still, I needed more.
The next time my three wet fingers kissed my vagina’s lips, I slid them deep within me. I stroked deeply into my swollen center. Lord was I needing this.
I abandoned my breasts and slid my free hand down to my clit. I ran two fingers up and down beside my clit, playing it like all the strings in an orchestra.
Now my wind and brass and drums demanded attention. I fingered deep into myself, crunching my muscles oh so deliciously to bring myself up off the seat.
I began to feel trimmers. My stomached quivered toward release one moment, even quaked in even greater need the next.
My fingers probing my depths, struggling against my own clenching center as it battled to expel them. I found my G spot. One, twice, three times I stroked it.
One, twice, three times I squeezed my clit.
Suddenly, I was every song in the universe. I sang and played and pounded on myself and it all came out a symphony of light and heat. I was a tinkling xylophone and a pounding drum. I was a million ringing bells and a dozen clashing cymbals.
I was nothing and everything, and everything was me and nothing.
I floated away on the power of nothing.
How much later I have no idea, my eyes fluttered open. My throat was raw; had I screamed when I came?
In front of my car, two women, not all that older than me, stood frozen as statues. They stared at me, likely straight up my coochie. Their mouths were half open. I wonder if they knew they were playing with their breasts. One girl was a good D cup and stroked herself through the thin tank top and sports bra she wore.
The other girl’s ta-tas were small enough, she didn’t need a bra. Did she realize she’d actually slipped both of her hands inside the loose edges of her top and was really going to town on her nubs? When her hands circled around her chest, I could see them standing up. They were significant peaks now.
We looked at each other.
They must have come out of their trance. They broke eye contact with my yoni and turned fifty shades of red. Looking down must have shown them where their own hands were. They drop their bosom buddies as if they were blazing furnaces.
Maybe they were.
They studied me through veiled eyelashes. I grinned and kind of waved with my fingers. They whirled as one and hurried up the beach walk. I felt like putting the window down and yelling, “I’m a nudist. It was okay for me. Have you ever considered becoming a nudist?”
But they were walking real fast with their heads down, as if they wanted the world to forget their mortification and just go away.
I realized in my haste to jill off, I’d forgotten to turn off the car. With my red shoed legs still up on the dashboard, I stretched my hands high up over my head. That got me some very pleasant smiles from two old gentlemen shuffling up the walk.
We exchanged smiles. Suddenly they were in very animated conversation.
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