Thornbush Academy Ch. 08a - Nude in Public

(All of the delightful young ladies in this randy tale are actually at least nineteen. As I sadly repeat: we professors are sooo much older.)

Chapter 1: Good Morning Good Morning

I wake with something of a start. The sun is streaming in through an open window; the cool autumn breeze is only just beginning to warm. I grab my phone: 8:46?! I look around the room, wildly.

The girls are gone; not only gone-- there is no trace they were ever here.

I get up naked, I stretch and groan. My aching body and my sore cock are telling me that last night was not only a dream.

Then I see the vase of roses on my work desk. I walk over. Six roses; one for each lovely rose who shared my bed last night?

There is a paper bag on the chair. I open it and let the contents fall to the table: six black thong panties, and each has a tiny numbered tag attached with a safety pin.

Wait: there's an index card that fell to the floor. I pick it up. The numbers one to six on one side, feminine writing on the other:

"A test: use that marvelous feminine scent-finding nose of yours and match the proper thong to the very improper lady. Results will be tabulated and released by supper. Prizes awarded for correct answers."

I laugh out loud and sit down naked. What a way to start the day; much better than Wordle! I immediately assign panty number six to Ms Griswold; her heady, mature scent intoxicated me. Andie is also easy to identify as number three; the smell of her love juice is still ingrained in my skin cells. Miss Maggie is surprisingly difficult: either four or five, and I finally pick number four.

I finish the game in less than ten minutes. I really should be showered and dressed; the van for our nude in public road trip will be outside at 10:30.

I notice the Academy's quaint old-fashioned desk phones. There are several extra buttons for various services. I notice "Fresh Towels."

I press it.

"Oui?"

It is my sweet and sexy French maid, Miss Brigette.

"It's David. Professor Rogers."

Silence, then:

"You would like the fresh towel deliver?"

"Yes... oui."

"Five minutes."

I wait. Why am I breathless?

A soft knock. I wrap my robe around me and open the door.

Miss Brigette is standing there barefoot and bare legged and bare shouldered, wrapped up in a soft white towel. She enters and shuts the door behind her and turns to me.

"Your towel, monsieur."

I unwrap it from her body. She is naked underneath. She slips my robe off me and lets it drop to the floor; she takes my hand and leads me to the shower.

Miss Brigette turned out to be an expert in massaging in the appropriate lotions and oils for my aching body and my sore member.

Miss Brigette herself was a delight when she was wet and naked and up close. She had thick brunette hair all over; and that included her head, her pussy mound, and even under her arms in the Continental style.

My penis of course rose and fell throughout her expert ministrations. When she knelt down and rubbed in deep healing lotions from my glans to the root, I openly sighed.

"You are not to do the worry," she told me, "your petite man-- he is quite the worn-out from yesterday. You are my beautiful naked man and whether you are hard or soft in my hands, everything is alright."

I was moved. I bent down and kissed the top of her head. When she was done with my cock, she stood up and wrapped herself around me. We kissed softly, tenderly. She pulled back and gazed at me.

"We will make the love and soon, and it will be as beautiful as that soft kiss." She grinned and swooped one hand between my legs and gripped my sac.

"But, until then, you save some for me!"

Chapter 2: Day Tripper

Well, Miss Brigette was nothing if she was not efficient. She played naked personal maid for me as she dried me off, helped me pick out my clothes, and got me out the door for our N. I. P. road trip with ten minutes to spare.

I stood out under the eaves of the portico that surrounded Thornbush, facing the circular driveway. A van of quite a good size was already there; I recognized the driver who was standing next to it as the limo driver who had deposited me here. Was that only twenty-five hours ago?

There were supposed to be four female, second-year students showing up for this invitation-only excursion. Only girls who were thought to be "ready" for public nudity and deemed mature enough to handle the indecent exposure were invited.

I saw my Andie right away. She was wearing a short plaid skirt and a tight white top and my heart stopped at seeing her dressed. I meant that-- I had gotten quite used to mostly seeing my girl stark naked.

Andie was the product of a union between a wiry, muscular, wunderkind film producer from India and a sultry brunette British heartbreaker who starred in a nighttime soap for twenty-two years. She was a tight little package in light brown skin and the most luxuriously silky black hair-- top of her head and between her legs-- that I had ever seen.

Andie came up to me for a soft sweet hug and a kiss. We couldn't really physically express the way we felt about each other here in public. As I rubbed and patted my sweetie's back, I looked to see Ms Griswold staring. She was back in her formidable blonde persona; quite unlike the naked, vulnerable woman who had totally surrendered herself into my arms last night.

Janice made a show of looking at her watch and then back at me in amazement. Yes: I was actually early for something! Besides the delightfully shared shower, I had had no sexual adventures-- or misadventures-- holding me up this morning.

I sensed movement behind me and turned. It was one of the very pretty and very petite Asian girls I had noticed in yesterday's Homeroom. She caught my eye and gave me a smile that was both dazzling and shy. She had on a very short denim mini and a soft, sweater-like top molded to her obviously braless breasts. Cute beyond cute with still adorable teen girl legs at the advanced age of nineteen and a gently rounded little body. Andie noticed my interest.

"Miko. She is very sweet; a real cutie."

I was so glad she approved.

Next to appear were two young women walking up to the van together: one I knew well; one I had never seen before. They were so very different that I have to describe them separately.

The sweet-faced brunette was the lovely Olivia or Liv from yesterday's memorable naked lunch. This girl reminded me of a trio I called my "British Brunettes" whose 1970s movies I only discovered forty years later. I became an expert on the nude appearances of Jenny Agutter, Pamela Franklin and Lesley-Anne Down. My infatuation with British beauties, and then, everything British, obviously began back then.

Walking with her, seemingly encouraging her with her hand on Liv's back, was a voluptuous blonde I guessed was about my age. She had to be at least 38D but otherwise was as tall and as leggy as any of the current crop of supermodels. Her tight, bare-shouldered micro-mini dress could have come straight from Gucci's latest show in Milan, although the men's style jacket she wore over it toned down the overt sexiness-- somewhat.

Andie was still at my side although I could tell she was so excited about the road trip and getting so anxious to chat with the other girls.

"That's Serena," she explained without my asking. "She's Prof McClean's 'special friend.' She graduated from here, six, seven years ago. She still comes in when we need a naked lady to demonstrate... certain things. She and Prof get "nekkid" in front of all the first-year girls on their first day and show those scared little ones how vaginal stretching is 'just good sexy fun.'"

And with that I got a quick kiss as she ran off to join her friends. Three cute, giggly teenage girls, all in the shortest of short skirts, touching and talking and hugging each other and having so much fun. I took it that Serena was girl number four-- or was she a chaperone? Well, I would find out all, shortly.

I was alone for a moment and I saw all of the smiles and hugs and impromptu back rubs going on all around me. Our girls-- they were already "our girls" to me-- had to put up with stripping nude and having all kinds of sexual intimacies imposed upon their blushingly bare bodies in our special classes. Somehow that created a special bond amongst them all, an unparalleled immediate intimacy.

I wanted to be a permanent part of all this. Something clicked in my head and I knew that I would drop everything and move here at once if I could be a permanent part of all this... of all this love.

Dean Williams startled me by coming up behind me and giving me a quick yet still bone-crunching bear hug.

"How was yesterday?" he inquired, whispering. "Everything you hoped for... and more?"

I gave him a side glance. How much did he know? Probably everything...

"You want to be a part of this, don't you?"

I swallowed hard. "When... when did you take up mind reading?"

He laughed. "No psychic abilities that I know of; I guess I am just a good judge of character."

We were quiet for half a minute. The girls and their chaperones were beginning to queue up.

"Is that an offer?" I asked.

"Let me talk to the Board." He straightened up his suit jacket. "We will let you know well before your scheduled visit is over." He walked up to the van.

Now, I don't know who decided on the seating arrangements; I would still like to thank them personally. The van had room for one passenger next to the driver, then two rows that sat three each. Andie sat next to the lucky driver: they smiled at each other and kissed each other's cheeks. I was seated with sweet Miko on my left and red hot Serena to my right-- a veritable love sandwich! The seat to my rear was occupied by the Dean, Olivia, and Ms Janice Griswold-- in that order.

The driver checked his mirror and asked if we were all ready. Getting all affirmations he started out. I saw that the three girls were so beyond excited-- and they at last got me genuinely excited. It was a strange outing; we were headed toward a quaint little town, known far and wide for its shops and restaurants, very popular with locals and tourists alike. The girls would start out flashing in a restaurant over lunch; then try on bikinis outside a shop's dressing room; and finally the bravest girl or girls would be filmed walking completely naked through the town's streets.

Once we were on the main road-- or what passed as a main road in this endlessly bucolic area of Sussex, the Dean made an announcement:

"Ahem! Since none of our young ladies present had their requisite morning uniform, grooming and wetness checks (being excused from Homeroom,) I would ask whoever is seated next to one-- or more of our lovely blooms to lift up the covers and examine the precious petals beneath."

I looked back and forth from Miko to Serena in a bit of astonished embarrassment.

Serena spoke up with a big smile: "Why don't you concentrate on that little sweetheart to your left first? With two of us at once, you are literally going to have your hands full!"

I gulped and obediently turned to Miko. I put my left hand on the hem of her short denim skirt and tentatively began hiking it up.

"Are you sure that you're okay with this, love?"

Miko gave me that sweet, heart-melting smile.

"I am more than okay with you checking out each and every part of me, sir."

Wow. Big breath in and out. I pushed that skirt up as far as I could, to the lowermost level of her bare pussy. She was so pretty, so smooth, but only slightly wet. She still had her pretty legs together so her outer lips were just barely hiding her innermost treasures.

"I'm going to have to hike it up for you," Miko informed me. "I should have worn something looser," she muttered.

Miko lifted her bottom up temporarily and pulled that recalcitrant garment up to just below belly button level.

"Better?!" She was shyly smiling and nicely blushing.

"Much better," I heartily agreed.

Her cunnie was sweet and adorable: definitely an innie from top to bottom. She was one of those girls whose pouty mounds seemed to be trying to hide; tucked safely away between their soft thighs.

"Make sure you use a tactile approach." The Dean's sudden proclamation startled me.

"Observe our driver who must keep his eyes on the roadway, and not on Andie's sweetly exposed cunnie. Emulate him... let your fingers take the lead."

I looked up into Miko's pretty face. Big brown doe eyes and shoulder-length hair falling back just so. She shut her eyes, she leaned back-- and she opened up her legs.

Now those outer lips were opening up as well; her inners were starting to glisten pink. Miko scooted down even more and all at once, her winking open vagina was winking up at me, just above the leather seat. As I leaned in for a closer view, I could see that she had now at last begun to drool out lines and globules of light, milky-white fluid-- forming an attractive, circular wet spot beneath her-- and I hadn't even touched her yet.

"Put a finger down and in-- your whole hand even! Enough foreplay with that little one... I'm feeling neglected over here!"

I turned to Serena and was momentarily shocked to see that her designer dress was brazenly hiked up to her waist-- displaying her own marvelous design.

If Miko was the perfect innie, Ms Serena defined 'outie.' To begin with, she was totally shaved. Her outers were full and plump but proudly open; framing her girlie pink insides. Her inners were very delicate-- looking almost perfectly aligned, they proudly opened up to display her long, slit-like vaginal opening. Up on top, her hoodie was boldly presenting, the tip of her love button peering out, wet with its own sweet juices.

"If you're done looking, I could use a hand." Serena leaned back and opened her long, fashion-model legs wide. She glanced over at Miko. "I think we could both use those long, strong fingers inside."

Miko still had her eyes closed. My left hand lowered itself toward her ultimate softness and curved naturally around her shy little mound. She sighed. My middle finger easily found the entrance to her tunnel of love, guided by a sticky, juicy trail. I slipped in with no resistance, up to the knuckle.

With Serena I was even bolder. I ran my right hand up and down from each pretty knee to the junction of her firm thighs. I could tell she was trying to control herself-- I was the new man in town, I was untested.

"Jimmy is quite taken with you, you know. He was going on and on about your first girl, your first vagina you stretched. He said she came straight up to him still naked and hugged him tight and said 'Oh... can we keep him? He's wonderful!'"

I took it that "Jimmie" was Professor McClean. I wondered if she intended to carry on a monologue while my right hand was circling her cunt. I had a sense that she was testing me.

Very well...

Knowing what she wanted I grabbed her right between her thighs as if I was trying to pull her off her seat by her slippery cunt. Serena gasped, but I knew from her reaction she genuinely admired my adjusting my groping to her own experience and personality.

I deliberately turned to look into her eyes as I shoved my middle finger in. I could feel her slit adapting to me as well, shaping itself around my finger, transforming her slitted girl-flesh into a tight, rounded hole.

Now I did as Dean suggested. I sat back with eyes closed, enjoying the sweet sensation of two vaginas tightening up around me every time the van turned and bounced along.

Miko was starting to push against my hand, which surprised me. I leaned over to whisper "How are doing, sweet girl?"

"Oh! My little thing is out. Every time we move and bump, I only want to rub it against you."

Oh. My.

I could hear other soft whispers around me, in addition to the occasional feminine sigh and barely suppressed moan. I began massaging Miko's upper central clittie area with my open palm. She instantly responded; opening up her soft, pretty legs even more than Serena.

Now I felt Serena suddenly lifting her ass off her seat, pushing herself up and into my finger. She was so sticky-slippery wet I promptly shoved a total of three fingers in.

Miko went first. She abruptly clamped down on my one finger, closing her thighs tight, tight and tighter, until she too lifted her butt up briefly, grinding against my hand and then collapsing.

I felt a searching hand to my right. Serena had found my crotch and then tried to place said area in a death grip. I heard "Uhhnn... Uhhnn... UHHNN!" and then she too collapsed back in her seat.

There was about three or four minutes of more sighs and moans. Then... a minute of silence.

I slowly withdrew all fingers and surreptitiously (I hoped) tasted each-- separately. The smell and taste of a salty, mostly landlocked bay to my left; an especially sharp, tangy, and forest-earthy theme to my right.

Dean cleared his throat. "We are less than ten out... does anyone need some wipes and/or paper towels to clean up before we exit?"

I looked around; four girls including Serena, and four hands went up. No, five. Ms Griswold, who was seated behind me, next to sweet, sometimes shy Miss Olivia, was raising her hand.

And I thought I was in the best row of seats!

Chapter 3: A Taste of Honey

Our driver expertly guided our oversized van into a parking space not far from our chosen restaurant. The girls-- and Ms Griswold-- had sufficiently cleaned and dried themselves off so that any remaining panty-less cunnie-moisture would not leave telltale wet spots on their smoothed out skirts and dresses.

Four pretty ladies exiting a van in those short skirts and dresses... suffice it to say that every male passerby momentarily stopped and paused... and probably forgot what he was doing for a moment.

"Un goût de miel" read the ornate words etched into the restaurant window. I inwardly groaned-- another French restaurant?!

"A tasty... meal?" I awkwardly guessed. I blushed at my middling, high schooler knowledge of French.

"A taste of honey" corrected the Dean. "And don't worry," he lowered his voice, "it's Continental: French, Spanish, Italian; all infused with locally sourced honey."

"Hmmm..." I mused. "Starting to sense a pattern here..."

Serena came up behind me and playfully wrapped her arms around my waist.

"Maybe all that you're sensing is the taste of two especially sweet honeys, undoubtedly still on your tongue."

I blushed which was not like me. I guessed that I should have expected some kind of strange comedown from yesterday's seemingly non-stop series of sexual highs.

By the time we all were inside, Dean had already informed the hostess that the Williams party had arrived. She was a very pretty young lady, maybe mid-twenties, with light brown hair down to there, lovely legs beneath a slightly short skirt and what seemed to be a lithe, dancer's body.

As she turned to gather our menus and directed us to follow her, we caught each other's eyes. She had noticed me examining her as only an experienced girl-handler does; I had mentally stripped her naked and I was down to guessing as to her particular style of vulva-- all in a three-second glance.

She colored, pursed her lips shyly and licked them. I could see her breathing harder. She had probably never been evaluated in such a bold manner before; the after effect was both scary and arousing.

As we approached our table, Serena put her arm around my waist and leaned into me. I was startled but responded in kind.

She looked back at our retreating hostess.

"She really likes you, and I just made her insanely jealous. She's practically yours, if you want her."

I gave Serena a puzzled look as the rest of the group was working out what must have been very complex seating arrangements.