Naked at College 02 Pt. 02byCharles Petersunn©
This is Part Two of a Litererotica version of the "Naked in School" series. Please note that Part Two will make little sense without having read Part One. Part Two is again quite long, but it can easily be read in parts. Please also be warned that this story includes material beyond exhibitionism that some persons may not enjoy (e.g., fetish, submission, mature), but it does fit best within the exhibitionistic genre. Otherwise, enjoy!!
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During their participation in The Program, Chrissie and Michael had lunch with a select group of faculty and administrators. President Rayburn decided to try something different with Robert and Suzannah. He wanted their experience to be less formal, more personal. He proposed that Robert have a working lunch with Ms. Katherine Billingsley, one of the original creators of The Program at Abberville. She was ecstatic, as she had always wanted to be more personally involved in the implementation of The Program. For Suzannah, President Rayburn chose a working lunch with Professor Hunting, a faculty member with whom Suzannah had already worked and greatly admired.
Suzannah could not have been more pleased. She greatly admired Professor William Hunting. He was one of the more prominent faculty of Abberville. He was extensively published and was considered to be one of the leading national investigators of mathematical constructivism. There was even a quadratic construct named after him: the Hunting Free Variable. Abberville felt quite fortunate to have him, as once one of their faculty established themselves as a well qualified scientist, another college or university with a stronger reputation, and deeper budget, would snatch him or her away. Look what happened to Mr. Peters.
Equally important, Suzannah had already worked closely with Professor Hunting. She had served one semester as his work study assistant, gathering articles for him at the library, sorting his reprints, and at times even having the privilege of typing initial drafts of manuscripts. This would be so much more: a two hour working lunch. She could not, of course, truly assistant him in mathematical constructivism. No undergraduate could. But it was still a tremendous privilege.
She smiled at the thought of being able to share with him the experience of The Program. What better person to share an experiential investigation with than another scientist? It may indeed become the finest, the most informative and revealing, chapter of her thesis. His insights into the process would be invaluable and certainly of interest to the wider community of scholars. She had to admit that she was a bit insecure about her potential contribution. She wasn't even sure which journal to which she should submit her thesis, and she would not be surprised if editors were wary of publishing the thoughts of an undergraduate. What insights could she possibly have? But, they certainly would not question the perspective of the eminent Professor Hunting! She was flush with excitement.
Robert was not nearly so pleased. For him, this whole experience was a means to an end. He was not doing this for the experience. He was doing this for what having done it would provide. The sooner it was over with, the better.
Plus, he wasn't so sure that he wanted to be paired with Ms. Billingsley, albeit he wasn't so sure that anyone else would be any better. Perhaps it would be easier to be with a man than with a woman, although he wasn't really sure. It would seem really unnatural, at least to him, to be alone naked with another man. The implication would be rather obvious. The implication of being alone naked with a woman was also rather obvious, but at least more appropriate. But, what was appropriate about being naked with a fully dressed woman?
He could understand though the decision. Ms. Billingsley was one of the founding "mothers" of The Program (see "Naked at College, #1, Part Two). She would at least be very familiar with the stress and pressure of participating. She would not herself feel embarrassed. She would be comfortable with his discomfort, and might even be able to put him at ease, helping him to avoid developing any embarrassing erections. Actually, when he thought about it, it sounded better and better. He would be two hours with a professor, probably helping her sort files or something. There would be no boys or girls laughing at him. It would be a good way to kill two hours of the day.
Robert. Hank first dropped Suzannah off with Professor Hunting, as he was also within the Mathematics Building, the home of their last statistics class. He then escorted Robert to Ms. Billingsley's office within the Humanities Building, which was on the other side of the Administration Building. He knocked politely on her office door.
Ms. Billinglsey was heard inside to say, "Yes, hello? Is that you, Robert?"
"Yes ma'am," he replied. "I'm here for our luncheon, and stuff."
"Well, excellent young man, come right in."
Robert said goodbye to Hank, took a deep breath, and opened the door. He wasn't entirely sure why he should be nervous. Frankly, this luncheon should be a breath of fresh air, a moment of respite.
However, she was still a woman, and a very attractive one at that. Having lunch with, working side by side, naked, with an attractive adult woman, was still rather disconcerting, to say the least. He knew that he would have to work hard to avoid obtaining an erection. He certainly didn't want to embarrass her, and more so himself, by getting a hard-on in front of her.
As he entered her office he recalled as a boy feeling nervous about revealing himself to pretty nurses. They would often have him undress before the doctor came in. Actually, as a boy it really wasn't a problem. It became a problem when he first started having erections. It seemed like it took so little to get one, and there was one time in which he did get a boner. It embarrassed him to no end, but she just giggled. She did though eventually leave the room, allowing him sufficient time to lose his stiffie before the doctor arrived. Thank goodness for that.
Ms. Billingsley got up from her desk to greet him..
It was to a great extent what he feared. She was a strikingly attractive woman. She had long, flowing blonde hair, a glowing smile with full red lips, pink round cheeks, and large green eyes with lashes that fluttered so flirtatiously. And, any male had to notice, quite full, prominent breasts, with which she was doing little today to conceal. Many of the students within her drama class had crushes on her, and quite a few more had rather ribald fantasies.
She was wearing a tight white blouse through which her breasts seemed to be trying to escape, straining the buttons for release from this apparently annoying captivity. And, if that was not enough, the silk was really quite sheer. You could easily see the lace of her brassiere.
He wondered how this form of attire would actually be allowed in a classroom. This blouse would drive her students up the wall. But, his confusion was soon answered as she pulled on a jacket that provided considerably more modesty, albeit not really hiding the grandeur of her form.
Ms. Billiingsley's skirt was equally tight, a short black business skirt that required her steps to be a bit restricted. Not nearly so much as a geisha, but certainly having a comparable effect, and her short skirt did well to display her long, shapely legs, so nicely accentuated by hot pink nylons. He didn't think he had ever seen a professor wear pink nylons before.
"Robert, it is so wonderful to be able to spend this time with you." She warmly clasped his hand in hers, bending over a bit to meet him straight in the eyes, as she was rather taller than Robert, a difference exaggerated further by her tall heels.
"Yes ma'am, certainly." He noticed that her full breasts were at his eye level.
"Now, now, don't be so formal young man. After all, you are certainly dressed in a rather informal manner."
Robert's face flushed with the reminder. "Yes ma'am."
Ms. Billingsley could see that he was a bit uncomfortable. That was understandable. Novice participants are inevitably uncomfortable and it was important to try to put them at ease. "Robert, well, actually, could I call you, 'Bobby'? Would that be alright? I do want us to be comfortable, don't you agree?"
His closest friends called him Bob, not Bobby. But, given that she was rather older than him, he could understand her disposition to refer to him as Bobby. In any case, students should rarely disagree with their professors, Robert, or Bobby, knew that. "Yes ma'am, that would be fine, certainly." He hoped so much that she wouldn't ask him to refer to her as Katherine or, even worse, Kathy.
The more informal appellation didn't appear to be having the effect she had hoped. He appeared to be so nervous, so self-conscious. "Well, Bobby, are you enjoying your first day in The Program?"
He didn't like the sound of that at all. Was there to be a second day? She probably didn't mean it that way. The good news though was that his nervousness and discomfort did seem to be helping him avoid any embarrassing accident. He had felt this way as a young man with the nurses. The more nervous and uncomfortable he felt, the less likely he would stiffen up; the more relaxed he felt, the more he began to enjoy the presence of the pretty nurse, her sweet perfume, her cute smile, her shapely legs, and the fact that he was showing her his winkie. So, it seemed best to be uncomfortable and nervous. "Yes, ma'am, it's fine, really."
Ms. Billingsley could see that they were not getting off to a good start. "Well, yes, um, would you like something to eat? President Rayburn personally approved the menu that was so nicely delivered for us." She gestured to the coffee table, upon which was a rather generous platter of luncheon meats, bread, pasta, vegetables, milk, and colas. Robert was indeed hungry, and quickly realized the benefit of being able to sit down, perhaps even place a plate on his lap.
"Yes, good, yes," he replied.
"Oh my goodness!" Ms. Billingsley exclaimed. "My manners! Here I am, one of the coordinators of The Program and I forgot such a central rule."
"Ma'am?" Robert replied, disappointed in being delayed in his journey to a moment of privacy.
"Relief. My goodness, boy. I am so sorry. Would you like to obtain some relief?"
Robert's face flushed with embarrassment. Now? In front of this woman? "Ma'am?"
Ms. Billingsley stepped a bit closer, her delicate perfume wafting across his nostrils, her thrusting chest just a few inches from his face. She rested a hand reassuringly on his shoulder. "Well of course, Bobby. Don't be shy. We know it can be difficult for a young man. Have you had some erections so far today?" Robert had never imagined a grown woman asking him such a question. When he was first having them, he feared that his mother would at some point ask him, thinking that it was her responsibility as his mother to explore and discuss his development as a young man. After all, it was a natural responsibility of the mother to keep track of, to monitor and mark, developmental milestones. Fortunately, she never had brought it up, perhaps being as embarrassed as he was.
Then he started having wet dreams, and he was sure his mother would ask him about that. Goodness, she had to wash the sheets. Or, worse yet, she might set up an appointment for him with a doctor, to discuss how to better control and manage them. Imagine having to explain that to the pretty nurse. But, he did quickly manage that himself. He would wear both pajamas and underwear, and then wash them himself. His mother never did ask him about that.
So, while growing up he seemed to have escaped the worst possible moments of personal embarrassment. Yet, here he was, in this grand office, totally naked with a really quite attractive older woman, being asked if he was getting erections. "Ma'am?" was all he was able to say. He really needed a sip of cola.
"I'm sorry, I am being a bit formal again, aren't I?" she replied in her most reassuring, motherly tone. She gestured quotation marks in the air with her fingers, "'Erections' is such a clinical term, don't you think? I mean, well, hard-ons." The word did sound a bit infantile to her, but she wanted to speak in the manner of the youth, although she wasn't really sure what words they used. This was the word she had used when she was a girl. "Or, would you prefer 'stiffie'?"
Robert's face grew redder and redder, and Ms. Billingsley could see that she still had not gotten it right. "'Boner'? Have you had a few boners today?"
Robert knew that he would have to say something or she would just keep making it worse. "Yes, yes," he admitted with considerable embarrassment. What young man would not be embarrassed at having to admit this to a woman. "I have had, uh, some, um, boners." He really didn't like that word, but he didn't want to insult her. She seemed to think that was the word he preferred. He sorely hoped that she would not ask further about whether he had received relief.
Ms. Billingsley felt much better. They were perhaps now making some progress. "Well, of course you did. This is a natural effect of The Program, and if a young man has a number of them during the course of the day it is also only natural that he occasionally obtain some relief. I thought perhaps you might wish to do so in the relative privacy of my office."
Putting it that way, she did have a point. After the experience in Statistics, he was feeling a considerable pressure, if not throb, within his balls. Just the thought of Suzannah almost placing her lips on his cock made his balls ache. If he was going to do it, better to do it in front of just one person than in front of an entire class of students. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that she was making a very good point! "Could I, ma'am?"
"Well, of course dear, it will be my pleasure." It would in fact indeed be her pleasure. Ms. Billinglsey had been disappointed that Michael, one of the first participants in The Program, had not stopped by to see her since he had completed his participation. She had looked forward to becoming personally involved with the participants, following up on their progress, tracking their careers and assessing how their participation was instrumental to their personal growth. This was in part why she was so enthusiastic about the one-on-one luncheons for this second trial. It provided her with more face--to-face contact with a participant, a chance to establish a relationship that would facilitate subsequent follow-up assessment. "Here dear, I will sit myself down here on the couch, and you can stand right there. Here, you can use this cup to catch your squirt."
Ms. Billingsley sat down with excited anticipation. She had to admit that this was a nice perk of The Program. The primary purpose of The Program was to help develop the psychological and personal growth of the participants, as well as those who come into contact with them during the course of the day, but one could not deny that there were also moments in which a certain amount of personal pleasure can be gained, and she so much enjoyed the sight of a naked young man, particularly one in a state of sexual excitement. What could be more delightful than the sight of a stout young man with a stout young tool?
She sat back in the couch and clasped her hands on her crossed nylon legs, her skirt rising up high on her thighs. She smiled approvingly, like a mother waiting for her son to rehearse a presentation for a class. "Go ahead, Robert."
Robert though could feel the anxiety rise once again. He had felt quite self-conscious a number of times through the course of the day, more than any other time in his life. And, yet, once again, he was being asked to perform, this time to jerk off for a senior member of the college. Ms. Billingsley had often asked students within her drama class to perform for her, to rehearse their lines for a play as she sat in her director's chair, swinging a shapely leg. But, this was obviously quite a bit more dramatic. And, to add to his humiliation, he was to do it into a cup, like he was providing some sort of specimen.
He had no difficulty getting hard in the previous class with Suzannah. Even though they were in a crowded room of students, it still felt more like a personal, private matter between the two of them. And, no boy could have resisted the touch of Miss Baker and her students. But, this was quite different. Here he felt more like a monkey being asked to perform. At least it wasn't as bad as with Alice. Ms. Billingsley wasn't making fun of him.
Still, she was a grown woman, a professional woman. What young man would not find it awkward to jerk off in front of a clothed woman, an English professor. But, he had to admit that his testicles were really beginning to groan and throb. The sooner he got this over with, the better. Once he got it done, he would be much less likely to embarrass himself the rest of the day. He took hold of his penis with his right hand and began to handle himself, stroking his limp dick, sliding his fist up and down the soft sausage.
Ms. Billingsley smiled approvingly. "Yes, yes, Bobby, that's a very good boy."
Her words of encouragement were not really encouraging. It only made him think of his mother, as if she was smiling approvingly as he demonstrated to her that he had learned how to masturbate. That was a terrible thought. Robert tried to block her presence out of his mind, his mother and Ms. Billingsley. He closed his eyes, but the scent of Ms. Billingsley's perfume filled the room. It also didn't help that he was standing up. He had never before jerked off standing up.
Not that he hadn't tried different positions in the past: on his side, sitting down, and one time kneeling. At that time he was pretending to be doing it with a girl from behind. Actually, he even did it when he was almost on his head. He first shoved his butt up tightly against the wall and then slid closer and closer until his legs were straight up and then let them fall back behind his head. He was trying to see if he could get his erect cock into his own mouth. Perhaps there was indeed some value in being so big.
He wasn't successful, at least not entirely. He was able to at least lick the tip, and that had been amazing, absolutely amazing. The clear benefit of having such a long cock, a limber torso, and a very trim abdomen. He had never felt anything like that before. It was so, so much better than his hand.
He often did it that way thereafter, but it did seem terribly, terribly perverted. It wasn't homosexual, was it? He didn't think it meant he was a homosexual, but he did wonder. He would so thoroughly enjoy it while he was doing it, but afterward felt very guilty. He certainly knew he would never tell anybody that he was doing such a thing, not even his closest friends. It just seemed so terribly wrong.
He wasn't about to assume that position in front of Ms. Billingsley. Just the thought of that made him feel even more embarrassed. But, it probably would help. Standing up in front of her seemed like such an odd and foreign way to do it. He felt like he was being asked to provide a specimen for a judgmental nurse. Ms. Billingsley wasn't being judgmental, but he knew that she must be wanting to have lunch as soon as possible. He wondered if she had other boys do this for her. They were probably much better at it. He was now regretting that she had even suggested this.
"Are you having some difficulty, Bobby?"
Again, another unhelpful comment. "No, ma'am, no, no, I'm fine." But clearly he was not, and drawing attention to that fact only made it worse. All men have a fear of someday being unable to perform. Robert didn't think that the first time would be his first day of actual, real sex, if you could call the events of today real sex. His sex life was getting off to a very, very bad start as he continued to work, massage, and pound his limp penis. He stood there, his knees bent, his hand working and working, like he was tenderizing a sausage for dinner. He knew he must look like a complete idiot. The only consolation was that he was not in front of a room full of girls. Imagine if he had tried to obtain relief this way before his next class? It was bad enough to fail in front of Ms. Billingsley. It would have been much worse in front of a bunch of giggling girls. He thought again of Alice, from this morning. He should instead think of Suzannah. 'Try to think of Suzannah,' he thought, 'her bottom, turned up to his eyes.'