Naked Wednesday

"Like, what? Video games? Pixxboox? What?"

Trevor looked evasively at the clock, and I cleared my throat. "Yeah, like, Pixboox is sometimes involved," I muttered. Lily had a private group, and she overshared sometimes. Like, way overshared. Like, her friends liked to watch her get pounded. "It's just sort of hanging out at a friend's house."

"Oh?" She did a good job acting like she was politely interested. "I used to do that," and we couldn't help it: we burst out laughing. "What?"

Trev straightened on the lab stool, fixing the expectant Ms Dubinsky in a lazy stare. Me, I just settled in to watch the performance: this was Trevor Bray at his best. He had the gift of gab in spades. He was the man who'd talked the second-ranked student in the class to date him, then gone on to talk her into sucking my dick. He could sell sand to a Bedouin. He smiled a long, Cheshire-cat grin. "I don't know if you used to do what we do on Wednesdays," he began, politely including me. "I mean, we could tell you, but it's kinda odd, Ms D. So you can't say I didn't warn you."

"I've heard some very odd things in my time, Trevor," she volleyed back. This was going to be a great show, I knew; Dubinsky was famous for her sarcasm. Ashlee had told me stories. "I've been a teacher over ten years. I think I've probably heard worse."

"So, remember when we told you we kind of have a date every Wednesday?"

She just stared at us. "Spill."

Trev nodded slowly, then glanced over at me for effect. I made a show of reluctance, but inside I was loving this. "I mean, you did warn her," I shrugged, and my buddy heaved a big sigh.

"So." He leaned on one elbow on the lab table, glancing at the door as if to make sure nobody was there. "Remember that big storm? Back in January? Just after my birthday?"

She rolled her eyes indulgently. "I hadn't put that on my calendar, Mr Bray, but I'll make a note of it now."

"Oh, well, no real need for that, Ms D." Trevor frowned. "I mean, thanks, though. That's so nice of you."

She sighed theatrically, her lab reports forgotten. "Focus. The storm."

"Oh. Right. Well, so my buddy Brian and I were over at my girlfriend's place when the storm hit. And our phones were all out of juice? Because, you know, I usually charge overnight." He nodded seriously. "It keeps me from checking for messages right before I go to bed. You know, the glow from a phone screen is terrible for adolescent sleep, Ms D; I'm not sure if you know that."

"I know that." I studied her face, doing my best to not make it obvious. Her full lips were pursed, her chin in her hand. "I can give you a reading list about the research, if you like."

"Oh! That'd be great, Ms Dubinsky; maybe next week?" Goddamn, he was good! He even sounded sincere to me. "But, so we're sitting around in the late afternoon. It's getting a little dark. And my girlfriend? Like, she had no candles!"

"There was only one flashlight," I put in helpfully.

"Right. And, like, her heat is electric, I guess? So it started getting cold."

"Her dad should get a generator," Ms Dubinsky muttered, and Trev snapped his fingers loudly with an expression of wonder.

"Holy shit, Ms D, you know I said the exact same thing to her? Just the week before?"

"Watch your mouth, Trevor."

"Sorry." I was snickering, and when Dubinsky sent a conspiratorial eye-roll my way, it sent a thrill down my back and straight to my dick. Soon, I knew, I'd need to figure out how to adjust myself. She looked so smart, so fresh; she sat straight-backed on her own stool, her legs swinging above the ground in a pair of nice jeans. Not too tight, not too loose, though to be fair, she didn't have much of an ass. A simple black top, its neck scooped just short of the point of indecency, contained her tits nicely; I could have hoped for a lighter shade, but I was close enough to her desk that this was just fine.

"It's okay. Go on. Your story is mesmerizing," she snarked.

"Yeah, so, it's cold and getting dark and all that. And you know what the worst part was, Ms D?" She shook her head gamely. "The boredom! I mean, you know us; we're digital natives. Our poor, undeveloped brains need constant stimulation."

"Constant," I nodded. Her eyes crinkled as she glanced over at me once more. Definitely, I'd need to adjust soon.

"Totally. Like, we were just sitting there in my girl's bedroom, nothing to do, and then?" He looked once more out the door into the hall, then leaned in toward her desk. "This is where it gets a little weird, Ms D."

"Wait a minute." She actually held up her hand. "If you're going to tell me about anything illegal, stop right there. I'm a mandated reporter."

"What?" I frowned. "Like, you work for the news?"

"No, Brian," she sighed, "my second job is as a CIA agent. No, idiot-child, a mandated reporter has to rat you out to the principal if you tell me about anything wrong. Like, unlawful." She narrowed her eyes. "This isn't about drinking or drugs, right? Because if it is, you can just end the story right now."

"Oh god!" Trev leaned back, horrified. "Fuck no, Ms D. We're athletes. We don't do anything like that!"

"Watch your mouth, Trevor."

"Sorry. Well, so like I'm saying, don't get weirded out. This was all Lily's idea."

"Lily? Lily Catterick? The salutatorian?" Dubinsky looked genuinely shocked. "You? Are dating her?"

Trev's face fell. "Aw, Ms D, that's so rude. Come on. I'm a really good boyfriend."

"He treats her like gold, Ms Dubinsky," I added loyally.

"Well." The teacher shook her head in mock disapproval. "I'm afraid I can't condone Lily dating anybody getting less than a 4.2 GPA."

"Talk to Ms Julian, then, have her give me an A+ in English!"

She laughed. "Surely you're not asking me to urge a colleague to raise your grade for no reason, Trevor."

"Not for no reason." He nodded sagely. "For love. So Lily will respect me more."

Dubinsky nodded. "That's so sweet. But you're lying. Go on, Trevor. You've already eaten up five minutes."

"Where was I?" He looked genuinely confused; I was almost fooled. The teacher rolled her eyes.

"It was Lily's idea?" I murmured, risking a wink at Ms Dubinsky. She smiled despite herself, and I couldn't wait any longer: I dipped my hand to my crotch and gave myself a single savage tug to get my stiff penis up off my thigh. Her mouth fell open at my boldness, but she said nothing. "The bed..."

"Oh!" Trev snapped his fingers again. "Right. So, like I said, this is where it gets sorta weird." He glanced over at me. "Maybe I shouldn't tell her..."

"It'd be best to keep it a secret," I nodded, both of us smiling.

"Dear lord!" Dubinsky threw up her hands. "You've wasted this much time. Just tell me." I was straining to see her breasts wobble with her dramatic arm movement as Trev continued, very quietly.

"The bed. Right." He licked his lips. "Well. So Lily said she was getting chilly, and she said she wanted to get under the covers. And I said, well, great, we can all get under there." Her glance shifted to me suddenly, and Trev nodded. "Like, Lily and I have known Brian for years. We're practically all family."

I beamed. "Practically."

"And, she was all sketched out. Because we'd just come from practice and all we had were, like, totally stinky clothes." He drew back, hesitating, as if he were about to tell some great secret; he had to have been pleased when Ms Dubinsky leaned in across her lab desk. Fuck me, but that kid could tell a story! "So then I made, like, a joke. About just taking my clothes off." He spread his hands, the picture of innocence. "A joke! Seriously!"

"Totally a joke," I nodded. She'd begun to look worried, but she wasn't stopping the story. She was still leaning forward attentively.

"Well, like, we're eighteen. Lily and I have, you know, seen each other? Like, without our clothes on?" I watched, spellbound, as a pink flush bloomed on Ms Dubinsky's cheeks. "So we went ahead and got into bed, but then there was poor old Brian, shivering in the corner. So me and Lily took pity on him and invited him in, too." He shrugged. "And that's the story."

No it wasn't. It was bullshit. The truth was that I'd been taking a shower at Trevor's house and I'd walked into his bedroom with the tiny little guest towel while they were going at it doggy-style. But I'm sure Ms Dubinsky liked Trev's other story better. She sat now, her chin still propped on her hand, nodding uncertainly.

"It's a tradition now!" I piped up. "We call it Naked Wednesday."

The room took on an ominous silence, Trevor and I sitting calmly at the stools, waiting for the clock to sweep off its last couple of minutes. Ms Dubinsky didn't say anything for several seconds, and once she did her voice was Mojave-dry. "Naked Wednesday."

Trev shrugged, his hands sprouting out in a grandiose sweep. "It's good, clean fun!" He yawned. "So, yeah. That's where we usually go instead of being here."

"If you could switch off to Thursday..." I began, but Ms D was already shaking her head.

"I will not," she declared, "change my schedule so that you two morons can rip your clothes off and cavort with Lily Catterick." A wrinkle at her forehead told me a thought had just occurred to her. "Wait. What the hell do you guys do there?"

Trev and I exchanged smirks. "Um. Do you really want to know, Ms D?" he asked, still with that air of fake innocence, and those flushed smudges on her cheeks spread instantly to the rest of her face.

"Oh," I added, greatly daring, my cock threatening to burst out my waistband. This was incredibly stimulating, talking about Naked Wednesday with the hottest teacher in the school. And having her not kick us out. "And, uh, watch your mouth, Ms D." She frowned as she rewound her brain, then scoffed.

"'Hell?' You're giving me a hard time over hell?" She shook her head. "Scamper off, you two. I've never been so scandalized in all my life." She sighed. "I should never have asked."

"Same time next week, Ms D?" Trev was hauling his loose pants up his ass while I fiddled with my erection, and it was a couple seconds before I realized Dubinsky was watching me.

"Uh, sure?" She sounded anything but. "Yes. I guess so. Bring more work than this time, boys," she went on, blinking as she tore her eyes from my package. "I won't be in the mood to discuss your extracurricular shenanigans."

"No problem, Ms D," Trex shrugged. He smiled a rogue's smile at her. "There's still about half an hour until Mrs Catterick gets home. Time enough to, like, continue the tradition, Bri!"

"We'll need to book it." I turned toward Ms D, curiously bold now that I knew she knew of my perilous penile state. "See you, Ms Dubinsky. Thanks for all your help!"

"Yeah, thanks!"

"Uh, anytime," she called after us as we sauntered off; we were barely three steps down the hall when Trevor, glancing down, smirked.

"She had to have seen that, dude."

"Oh, absolutely." We saw no need to lower our volume. If Ms Dubinsky didn't want to listen, she didn't have to.

* * *

She was more distant the following Wednesday, almost surly at first. Trev hadn't bothered to spend more than about three seconds in the locker room after practice. "Dear lord, you stink!" Ms Dubinsky complained as we walked in.

"Oh." He stared at her blankly while I found my seat. I hadn't showered either, but at least I'd changed into my street clothes instead of Trev's chic sweatpants-and-hoodie combo. He was probably naked under there. The week before we'd made it to Lily's house about five minutes before her mom got home, and Trev had still been peeling off his damp underwear when the front door had clacked open. Lily had laughed at him when he'd ruefully stuffed himself back into his pants. This time, if we made it over there, he wanted to at least make sure Lily could nibble his balls. "I mean, if you turn around, I'm happy to change?"

It was a great line, delivered with just the right mix of deference and confidence, and Ms Dubinsky scowled. "Oh, come on," she exploded at last. "Get your work and start in." She glared at him as she spun around. "And I'm going to keep you two until the very last minute, Trevor."

"Awesome." She'd already changed for the gym, it seemed, her body hidden beneath an oversized old t-shirt. I could see the ghost of a blue sports bra through the fabric, so I was already settling in for another hour of hiding my boner. "Just the place I want to be!"

She looked sharply at me as she slid onto her stool, then decided I might not be sassing her. "Sure," she muttered. "You'd rather be here than at your gross little Naked Wednesday thing. Mmhmm."

"Oh, well, look," I told her, improvising furiously; I was good, but I wasn't Trevor-good, "you're acting like I get nothing out of coming here, Ms Dubinsky, and that's just wrong. I pass science and I get to swim. That's important," I finished, all sincerity, and she fixed me again in that same sharp gaze. "I mean, I'll admit, Naked Wednesday is freaking awesome. But this is okay too."

"Mouth, Brian."

"Oh." I smiled at her. "I mean, this is wonderful too."

She cracked a quick smile despite herself, then snapped her head back toward Trevor in the corner by the door. "Trevor!" she cried. "What are you doing?"

"What?" He blinked back at her as if standing in a classroom with no shirt on was a completely normal thing. His hoodie lay clumped on the floor beside him, his sweat bottoms hanging low under a slim, hairless swimmer's body chiseled from granite, something straight out of a Greek statue. It was times like these that I knew why Lily loved fucking him; I was in fantastic shape, but I was no Trevor Bray. Everything, every bone and joint and sinew and muscle, every part of his body angled insistently down, pointing the way into his pants, to what waited under the loose sweats hanging low on his slender hips. "It's hot in here. I'm just putting on a shirt, Ms D."

"You didn't have one on already? Under the hoodie?"

He shrugged. "Nope."

"Well, Jesus," she gasped, staring at him for a moment too long before she made herself look back at me. "You should have gone to the bathroom or something."

"I mean, I told you you could turn around, Ms D." He threw a retro Maui & Sons shirt up over his head, tugging it down to just above his waistband. "Okay, you can look. I'm decent."

"No you're not. You're trouble," she told him flatly, making her way back to her desk. That meant her back was to me, thank God; I could finally burrow far down inside my boxers, hauling myself vertical, sighing with the sudden relief of my balls clearing my thighs.

Things were sticky down there. It had been a tough workout.

Trevor smirked to his seat, his science book open on the lab table before him. "Ah, do you know anything about wave-particle duality Ms Dubinsky? It's such a weird concept."

She shot him a suspicious glance, then calmed down. "Sure, Trevor. But the more specific your questions are, the better my answers will be." She was testing him. I realized with an abrupt chill that she was making up her mind to kick him out, revoke her tutoring agreement with Coach. And fuck, I'd have to go with him. I glanced over at him, hoping he was quick enough on the uptake to realize what he had to do.

He'd gone over Ms Dubinsky's line, changing his shirt so nonchalantly. Now he better come up with a real physics question instead of a smart-mouth comment, or we were done. And so was our North Adams meet.

Trev cocked his head, smiling slightly. "Just, you know, I'm not really all that clear on why de Broglie thought to use Planck's constant? Like, how does he even come up with something like that? The book doesn't explain whether it was something he got from studying, or from experimenting, or just, like, magically. From his own mind."

I let out a slow breath, wondering vaguely where my buddy had come up with such a fucking amazing question, and when I risked a glance at Dubinsky she, too, looked startled. A heavy silence fell, Trev's cocky grin growing wider with every passing moment.

"Um," she said at last, and carefully, "so, I'll admit, I think Mr Choi might be a better person to ask about, you know, the specifics of de Broglie? But what I do know, Trevor, is that science often involves insight. Like, inspiration. That magic spark from de Broglie's own mind you just talked about? There's a lot of that in the sciences." She smiled now, warmly, her cheeks crinkling behind her glasses. "Creativity isn't just an art and language thing. A lot of us STEM types are pretty creative, too."

"No shit?" He had his pleasant, earnest expression on right now, the one that made adults fall in love with him. I realized, with a sinking feeling in my mind, what that twinge in my belly was: it was envy. Finally, after years with this dude, things were coming to a head. It had started when I'd thrust so viciously into Lily: I'd wanted to be him, pumping his cum in her. I wanted to be him, the school record holder in the 100m butterfly. And most of all, I wanted to be him in that moment, making Ms Dubinsky smile.

Fucking envy.

"No shit at all," she nodded. "Mouth, though," and the two of them shared a secret, cynical smile at that, a smile I desperately wanted to be in on.

So, I blurted, "Mouth yourself, Ms Dubinsky," and when she nodded indulgently at me, that smile staying on her face, I decided we probably weren't going to be kicked out of her tutoring session after all.

"Yes, excuse me." She shrugged. "Look, all I'm saying is that researchers and theorists have to be every bit as creative as poets and playwrights. That's how a lot of them come up with their ideas."

"Like Einstein," Trevor nodded.

"And, maybe, de Broglie." She ran a self-conscious hand through her hair, pulling the heavy curls back into a black scrunchie. "But most scientists aren't in their league. That doesn't mean they're not coming up with all sorts of useful research work every day, at universities all over the world." She finished with her hair and nodded. "Or even in high schools. I've had some totally brilliant students. Like your Lily."

"Oh yeah," I interrupted. "Lily is definitely creative," and then I was turning a radiant grin on Trevor.

"Dude, that's gross," he snickered. "I mean, you're right. Totally right. But we shouldn't be talking like this in front of Ms Dubinsky."

"You certainly should not," she sighed, her eyes taking on a faraway look. "But heck. I've heard worse."

"Yeah, you said something like that last week," Trev sneered softly, "and next thing you knew, we were telling you all about Naked Wednesday."

She went scarlet once more, tossing her head back. "You two are terrible. Get to work, now." She sniffed. "I've got grading to do, anyway."

"Oh!" I snapped my fingers. "Almost forgot. Our big meet against North Adams is Tuesday. You coming?" She hesitated. "The whole school is talking about it. We might even beat them this year."

"Yeah," Trev nodded. "You should definitely come." I could read his mind. He wanted to show himself off some more. He loved being looked at.

"And the sophomore class is running the snack bar," I added. "They always do great hot dogs."

"Well!" she cried, "hot dogs? That settles it!" She smiled. "No. I might be able to make it, but don't count on me. Usually I like to get right home after school."

"Except on Wednesdays," Trevor pointed out, "when you hang here with your two favorite, creative seniors."

Ms D hesitated, then rolled her eyes. "You know I'm getting paid for this, right?"

"Aw." He pouted theatrically. "And here, I thought you just liked my personality." We laughed, and she joined reluctantly in.

* * *

I loved winning swim races. The feeling itself was great, of course: it's always nice to excel, at anything, and that goes double when you're beating your hated rival school in the culminating events of the meet, the medley relays.