Naked at College 01 Pt. 02

"Oh Chrissie, that's so nice. I have to do it, I can't stop myself."

"Squirt it, Bennie, really, squirt it hard. I bet you shoot it everywhere."

"Chrissie," he whispered. Chrissie felt a twitch in his cock as a blast of cum shot forth, high up in the air and then far out across the tiled floor.

"Cool," exclaimed Chrissie, and she actually meant it. It was a moment of this long and difficult day that she truly enjoyed. Frankly, it was really kind of fun jerking on him as he shot streams, ropes, and wads of white sperm across the floor. It was like she had her own personal cannon, or more appropriately perhaps, squirt gun. She aimed it in a number of different directions, giggling as the little gun continued to squirt its load. He did make quite a mess.

Bennie wasn't a big guy, but he shot with a lot of force. It was really an impressive spray, and boy were the other guys jealous, as well as stunned.

Bennie was himself spent, in more ways than one. He felt quite proud of what he had done. As the last burst came out, Chrissie squeezed and wiggled his cock, trying to get the last few drops out. She was a bit clumsy at that, not quite sure how she was to do that. She also wanted to clean off her hand. She didn't really like how gooey and sloppy his cum felt all over her fingers.

Seeing that Bennie was finished, a couple of the boys, including Jackson, started to walk up, also sporting hard dicks.

Chrissie, however, didn't stick around another second, either to celebrate with Bennie or to service another guy. After she cleaned the cum off her hand she handed the towel to Bennie. He would have to clean himself and, she presumed, the floor. Chrissie had enjoyed giving Bennie relief. The fact that he was so intimidated and insecure made it okay, even fun. She felt good about herself doing that for him, and, she had to admit, it was fun to play with a boy's hard cock, watching him get all excited and then actually shoot off.

But, she wasn't about to do a whole bunch of guys who selected themselves to have her service them, particularly Jackson. As soon as she handed Bennie the towel, she turned around and dashed off. She was looking forward to seeing Mikey. Maybe he would want some relief?

On the Way to Political Science 450

Chrissie and Hank Adams were waiting for Michael outside of the entrance to the girls' locker room. Chrissie did not like seeing that Michael had spent a considerable amount of time with the girls, or at least more than she had spent with the boys. And, he was sporting a severe erection. She had to admit to feeling a little jealous, as she knew that the erection was due to the other girls. However, its presence did indicate that he had not obtained any relief from them. "Mikey has a hard-on," she teased.

"I know, I'm sorry," he replied.

"Don't be, silly," she said. "I think it's quite handsome."

Michael wasn't expecting that. This was not how she had reacted to his erections earlier in the day. He didn't know what to say.

Chrissie suggested, "Maybe you should get some relief at the beginning of the next class," hoping that she would be the one to provide it.

Michael's full erection though attracted a lot of glances, stares, and comments as they walked to the Social Sciences Building. In the morning, when his penis was largely flaccid, its flopping around as he walked had made him feel very self-conscious. His erection was now frankly much worse. It was like he had a flag pole sticking out from him, topped by a big red knob, just asking to be noticed. And, it waved, nodded, and swung in the air as he walked, the movement seeming to draw even more attention. It's not every day that a boy with a stiff cock paraded it around on campus.

At first they were all just pointing, giggling, and murmuring as Chrissie and Michael walked by. But, it wasn't long until the students became more brave and assertive. They started saying all sorts of things, some of it with a bit of edge. "That's quite the boner you have there, Mikey!" "What do you plan to hoist up that pole, Mikey?" "Is that an erection, Mikey, or are you just happy to see me?" Many of the comments bordered on the edge of being derogatory insults, which were forbidden under the rules of The Program. A few did clearly go over the edge: "I can't quite tell, Mikey, but do you have an erection?" "Is that as big as it gets?" Marilyn Sanders said, "Do you really think a girl will even feel that thing?"

The security guard stepped forward for each of these and got the culprits' identity and picture. Each time he did so Chrissie and Michael enjoyed a respite from the teasing, but the Social Sciences Building was across campus from the gymnasium. They had quite a long walk and they would eventually face another group of students who hadn't noticed the previous scolding. Another round of teasing would then ensue.

Chrissie recognized that she benefitted from all of the attention that Michael drew. Most of the talk and teasing concerned Michael's erection, rather than her own boldly swinging breasts. The boys' eyes were still on her breasts, and her cunnie, and she assumed her bottom as she passed them by, but the overt talk and attention was on Michael's erection. She took Michael's hand in hers, and lightly circled her thumb around and around his palm, her secret message to him, reminding him of the time she bent over in front of him, deliberately showing him her pouting little pussy.

Michael, however, pulled his hand away. In the morning he had wanted to lose his limpness so that his penis would look bigger, but now he wanted to lose his erection to avoid further abuse. Chrissie's gesture of erotic flirtation wasn't what he needed right now, reminding him of her upraised bottom, her delicate cunt lips and slit, and her cute little rosebud.

Chrissie's eyes widened in surprise and concern as she felt him pull away. He had been so grateful for that before. 'Is he mad at me?' she wondered. 'What did I do?' She felt terrible to think that she might in fact be somehow making it even worse for him. Was he upset that the boys ogled her while the girls disparaged him? But was that really her fault? She looked down at his penis. It was dropping, like a gate at a railroad crossing, and then like a balloon losing its air, shriveling up into its coverlet of foreskin to where it looked again like a silly little peanut. She felt so bad for Michael.

Political Science 450

As they entered Political Science 450 they were, as usual, greeted by the instructor, in this case being Mr. Jennings. David Jennings was one of the more popular instructors on campus. If it was the 60's he would have had long hair, spoke radical politics, and led student rebellions. Many of the current students wondered if he might indeed have smoked marijuana when he was himself a college student.

He was certainly into radical, new wave theories of social politics. Most of the other political science professors did not care much for him. They considered his theories, his methods, too infused with his own liberal, political agenda.

There was one semester in which he announced at the beginning of class that there would be no lectures, no books, no tests, no nothing. It took awhile for the students to realize that he was serious, that he was not himself going to speak until the end of the semester. The only requirement was for the students to show up each day at the scheduled time. He would take attendance, and final grade would be based solely on attendance. Whatever happened during each class would be solely and entirely up to the students. He would himself spend the time taking notes on what did in fact happen. He would not say anything at all.

He had a theory that in any unstructured group, leaders, followers, alliances, coups, and rebellions would naturally develop and evolve over time, just as they seem to do among young, emerging nations. The students would be able to experience first-hand social politics.

The students did find it to be an interesting and stimulating experience, and getting an A for simply showing up was a pretty good deal as well. Professor Jennings got pretty high marks for teaching that semester. In fact, he had twice won Outstanding Professor of the Year, a fact that really annoyed some of his colleagues, who found the whole leaderless teaching to be silly, a sham, and downright irresponsible.

This year Mr. Jennings was exploring the use of psychodrama to visually and at times experientially illustrate various social-political issues and conflicts.

He jumped, no actually leaped would be a more accurate word, when the Faculty Senate asked for volunteer courses for the initial trial of The Program. Mr. Jennings was fully aware of The Program. He had been a staunch advocate of the innovative pedagogical techniques of Mr. Peters when he had been among the Abberville faculty, and he argued strongly for the hiring of President Rayburn. President Rayburn in turn endorsed Mr. Jennings for the pilot testing of The Program.

"Well, here you two are!" he exclaimed with great joy as Chrissie and Michael entered the room. One could feel the buzz, the electricity, as the two naked students entered the room. None of the students had any idea what Mr. Jennings had in mind for them, but they knew that it would be, minimally, interesting.

Chrissie and Michael had not yet had a class with Mr. Jennings but they knew his reputation. Everybody knew about Mr. Jennings.

"Yes sir," they both replied, cautiously.

"Well, I just want to tell you that I am so impressed, so proud of you both." He in turn shook each of their hands, clasping their one hand in both of his own, firmly demonstrating his evident enthusiasm. Mr. Jennings was always physically demonstrative. "I have so much respect for what you are doing, for what you have accomplished, for what you will accomplish. Really, I am just speechless." Mr. Jennings was never really speechless. Well, he was speechless for that one semester, but, he was characteristically quite verbose.

He turned to Michael. "But, before we begin, Michael, I must ask you, no, I want to ask you, with all due respect and consideration, would you like to obtain some relief?"

Michael blushed. It was as if his dad was asking him if he needed to masturbate, and even asking him in front of his siblings. 'Thanks dad,' he thought, 'but no thanks.' "Thanks, Mr. Jennings," he replied, "but, that will be alright."

"Are you sure? I think all of us would appreciate it. I can't think of a better way to kick off the next hour than to have the first male participant of The Program shock us with such a bold demonstration." He turned to the class. He could see in their eyes the tension, the wonder, the confusion. It was for moments like this that he had become a professor.

Chrissie turned to Michael. She lightly placed her hand on his shoulder and whispered, "I'll help you out, Michael, if you want."

Michael turned to her. He was shocked by that. But, he didn't want to put her on the spot. No, this was the last class of the day. He wasn't about to end the last class of the day by making Chrissie do something that would surely embarrass her. His balls did ache from the naked femininity within the shower, from the fondling by Ms. Billingsley, but he felt that he really could make it through just one more class and, he didn't like the idea of purposely masturbating in front of a bunch of strangers. Unlike Mrs. Canfield's figure drawing class, this one had quite a number of male students. The male stripper fantasy was largely lost here. He said to Chrissie, "I'm fine, really. No problem."

Mr. Jennings was disappointed. He had assumed by this time of the day that the male participant would be bursting for the opportunity to obtain relief, and he really was looking forward to the chance of shocking the class. He had no idea what might happen in response to seeing a naked boy jerk off in front of them, but that's precisely why he wanted Michael to do it. Well, one little setback was not going to thwart his plans.

"Alright then, well, as you know students, we have been addressing, exploring, through psychodrama the social politic in its various forms throughout society. With two naked members of the opposite sex joining us today, I can't think of anything more obvious than to explore, visually, the power politics of gender role functioning."

This didn't sound good at all, either to Chrissie or Michael. Chrissie once again placed a Notoid in her mouth.

But, it wasn't going to be as bad as it sounded, at least as Mr. Jennings explained it. "As you know, we use psychodrama to illustrate a social conflict or issue, to break through stereotypes in our thinking and to see the underlying truth that in fact lies beneath. What is more stereotypic than the genders, than sexual stereotypes. In fact, many sociologists argue that the sexual act is itself a reproduction, a metaphor, for the submission and control of women."

Eyes were raised and foreheads furrowed in doubt.

"What is the most common sexual position?"

Bobby raised his hand, as did a few others. This was the kind of political science question for which they knew the answer. Mr. Jennings called on Bobby. "The missionary position, Mr. Jennings," Bobby replied.

That was correct, but Mr. Jennings wanted to emphasize that this meant that the man was on top. He explained further. "The woman is lying down, passively, receptively, her legs spread submissively to receive the forceful weapon of the male, which intrudes on her, enters her, forces its way into her, leaving behind the seed from which she will then be controlled for the next nine months."

A lot of the girls in the class had a crush on Mr. Jennings, but many of them were now having second thoughts. They didn't care for his suggestion that he would spear them with his weapon. Well, most of them didn't like it. Trixie smiled with delight at the thought of being speared by Mr. Jennings.

Alan, however, pointed out that a woman could just as well be on top, and many couples preferred it that way.

"Oh, I agree. That is possible, but I challenge you to provide any data to indicate that the cowgirl position is used as often as the missionary." The students tittered at the reference to "cowgirl." Alan thought about Chrissie riding him like a cowgirl, waving a pink cowgirl hat, hollering and whooping and slapping her own fanny as she road his hard, stiff cock. She might be in the position of power, but his cock still rose at the thought of it.

Mr. Jennings's voice interrupted his fantasy. "That could be a good class experiment. We could survey sexually active members of the student body to determine which position is more popular." Mr. Jennings always ran real cool experiments.

"But, I am willing to give you that, even though I suspect you might be wrong." He knew they were wrong, but it was not good for a faculty member to simply assert his correctness. Students needed to discover the truth themselves. "However," Mr. Jennings gently took Chrissie's arm. "Chrissie, I want you to demonstrate another common position. Would you mind getting down on your hands and knees?"

Chrissie's heart began to race. Reproducing Rodin's The Kiss for Mrs. Canfield's class was one thing, demonstrating sexual positions for Mr. Jennings seemed like it might be pushing this a bit too far. However, one had to expect the provocative from Mr. Jennings, and they were in any case obligated to present themselves for class demonstrations. Chrissie reluctantly got down on her hands and knees.

She was a very pretty, and provocative, sight. Her breasts hung down so well. They even seemed to be fuller and fleshier, swinging beneath her body like large udders, waiting to be milked, capped by her little pointed nipples. Plus, the curve of her hips and bottom were beautifully displayed. One could even see a bit of a tuft of hair poking out between her clenched thighs, despite Mrs. Canfield's trimming.

Mr. Jennings assertively claimed, "Can anyone really describe Chrissie's position as being dominant?" Nobody was so bold as to argue that position.

"Students, what is this position called?"

"I know! I know!" squealed Timmy, his hand waving in the air. Timmy was probably one of the least experienced boys in the class, although quite a few of them were without any appreciable experience. Timmy's knowledge of sex, however, was limited to his collection of pornography, but that did at least provide him with quite a bit of knowledge of what things were called and how things were done.

"Yes, Timmy, tell us the name."

Timmy grinned with pride as he said, "Doggy style, Mr. Jennings."

"You're absolutely right, Timmy; doggy style. The woman, the girl, is presenting herself like a doggy, a female bitch."

Chrissie did not like that characterization. She sighed deeply with frustration, and embarrassment, as she demonstrated the doggy style position.

"Do you girls feel empowered by being fucked like you were a dog?" This was an outrageous statement, to say the least. Faculty were not suppose to use foul, obscene language. But, true to form, Mr. Jennings said what he pleased. The fact that the word was forbidden, and even outrageous, made him all the more pleased with using it. He spoke for effect.

Mr. Jennings walked around so that he was standing on Chrissie's right, facing the class. "Here, Chrissie, turn your body toward the left." Chrissie turned so that she was facing more toward the class. Mr. Jennings laughed. "Oh no, no no, you scamp. I want your lovely derriere toward the class."

Chrissie had been worried that was what he meant. But, she did as she was told, doing her best though to keep her thighs tightly shut.

Mr. Jennings squatted down and placed his right hand on Chrissie's shoulder. He gently pushed down as he said, "Chrissie, get down in front even further; on your elbows. You can rest your head on your forearm." Chrissie again did as she was told.

"You can see as Chrissie bends her head down to the floor, her bottom naturally rises up." He placed his left hand on the delicious curve of her butt. "She is now presenting herself for her man, displaying her sex to him. Here, let's take a look."

Mr. Jennings stood up and came around so that he had the same view as the class. "Yes, yes, yes. See, you can nicely see the inviting lips of her sex." Chrissie closed her eyes. Apparently clenching her thighs together wasn't very effective at protecting her modesty. "And, my goodness, Chrissie."

Chrissie raised her head and looked back and up at Mr. Jennings. "Sir?" she asked, a quizzical expression on her pretty flushed face.

"Well, I must say, you do have one of the prettiest little pussy lips I have ever seen."

Chrissie's face turned beet red. Beyond Mr. Jennings she could see the faces of so many boys staring, ogling her 'prettiest little pussy lips.' "Oh, well, um, thank you sir." It is nice to be complimented, and the handsome Mr. Jennings had probably seen quite a few naked women in his lifetime. But, still, this really wasn't the context in which she desired a compliment of her cunnie. This was even so much worse, certainly more demeaning, than the admiration she had received from President Rayburn.

"And, students, in this position, her bottom raised up so high." He furrowed his brow. "Chrissie, would you mind pushing your fanny up even a bit higher. It doesn't quite yet have the proper expression."

Chrissie furrowed her brow in frustration, but she brought her knees up closer to her breasts and raised her derriere up higher.

"Oh yes, much better. As I was saying, students, when the girl presents herself this way, she is really telling her man that he can have either hole." A few gasps could be heard across the room, particularly from the girls. A few chuckles could be heard from the boys. "He can take her vagina, or he can take her in the rectum. And, they're really both quite attractive in this case."