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From: "Peregrinf" <dfowler@catskill.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Carl Naked in School - Beth's Story 5/8 (f exhib nosex)
Date: Thu,  8 Nov 2001 15:10:12 -0500
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This story is a follow up to the series "Carl Naked in School,"
which you may want to read first. Before you read that, you might
want to seek out Karen Wagner's excellent story, "Karen Naked in
School," which was the inspiration for my efforts. 

-----------------

Carl Naked in School - Beth's Story 5/8 (f exhib nosex)

As you know if you read Carl's report on his week naked in
school, when he met my parents he carried the day, or evening, as
the case may be, winning over daddy, and charming mom. The only
surprise was the way mom punctured daddy's hypocrisy by reminding
of his own libidinous (don't you just love that word?) response
to their teen-age skinny dipping. 

I'd known, of course, that they'd been childhood sweethearts.
They'd grown up in a rural area, on neighboring farms, and we
still visit my grammy and grampy Finch there. But when she
reminded him of how they'd gone skinny dipping in a neighbor's
pond when she'd been my age, and that he'd gotten an erection at
the sight of her! Well, you could have knocked me over with a
feather! 

I tried to imagine it, and then kind of wished I hadn't. Children
really shouldn't be exposed to their parents' sex lives! But if I
just thought of it the right way, it was really sweet, actually -
kind of romantic, even. I couldn't help wondering if they'd done
more than just look, of course, but quickly shut that train of
thought off. Like I say, that's not for kids to know about their
parents! 

Or for parents to know about their kids, come to think of it; at
least not the carnal details. 

After I said goodnight to Carl on the porch there was the usual
family post mortem, with both of them assuring me they found Carl
very nice. Daddy wasn't totally happy, but he wanted ME to be
happy, which was what I'd been counting on as the decisive
factor. Like I said, he dotes on me - and I dote on him, too, I
admit it! So there. It's mutual! 

And that all led to the Great Dress Hunt!

But not before I'd navigated the shoals of the next day, Friday,
a school day, of course, but it started late. I heard Karen got
gang-banged that morning, before school. Personally I think that
went well beyond the "reasonable request" scope of the program,
but I guess she didn't mind it. I don't plan to get gang banged
ever, unless Carl is the Gang of One that does it! And certainly
not before lunch time! I am not a morning person. 

Carl, of course, was as excited as I was about going to the
dance. I got to relieve him twice, as you may know. Both times I
did it on my knees in front of the whole class. Both times I
collected his cum all over my blouse and skirt. I went through
the day stained with his semen, and I was very proud of it. 

I agree with Carl, too, about the afternoon assembly. Why were
only the girls up there? There were at least three boys who'd
spent the entire week naked, but girls were all that was up there
on stage! 

It wasn't right, and I intend to write a strongly worded letter
to the management regarding this inequity. 

After I graduate, of course. I feel it is better not to bite the
hand that holds your diploma and college recommendations, after
all! 

Anyway, come the end of the school day and there was the usual
stampede for the exits. Carl, unfortunately, had band practice -
nude! I wish I'd had the chance to see it, but The Great Dress
Hunt was on! Mom picked me up and we were off to the biggest mall
around. 

"And what have you got all over your clothes?" she asked as I got
in the car. 

Okay, I blushed. "Uh, I had an accident in chem lab?" I aliped. 

"Oh, really?" 

I don't think she believed me. First of all, she knew we always
wear enough safety equipment to walk through fire. And, secondly,
I am very meticulous in chem class. I'm the one who always gets
picked to refill the reagent bottles under the hood, because I
never spill. 

"I read the brochure, you know," mom added. 

"Did you!" I responded brightly. 

That was all that was said. Like I said, it's best if parents and
children remain essentially ignorant of the details of each
others' carnal doings. 

Never let it be said that I enjoy shopping, because believe me, I
DON'T. I particularly hate clothes shopping. Which, I suppose,
explains my limited wardrobe. 

Mom doesn't usually rag on me, but she did this time, about the
state of my clothes - the ones I was wearing at that moment, that
is. 

"Maybe we should stop by the house and you could change," mom
dithered. 

"It's too far to go back now," I pointed out. "Let's just get
this over with. You know how I feel about shopping." 

"Well, I don't like it either, dear," mom reminded me. "But you
don't have a thing to wear to the dance." 

She was right, I didn't. But I really hate shopping! I get
claustrophobic in those changing rooms. And getting in and out of
clothes in those places is a real nuisance, you must agree. 

As we cruised the lot looking for a parking space, I was a bit
surprised to see a couple of girls from school heading for the
entrance wearing nothing more than a smile and shoes. I guess the
program was really taking hold. I even saw a mother/daughter
pair, both topless, heading in! At this rate, half the town would
be walking around naked by the end of next week. 

"Oh, just look at your clothes," mom observed for the umpteenth
time as I got out of the car. 

Looking down at myself, I had to admit she had a point. It looked
like my milk carton had exploded on me at lunch time. 

"Can't we go home so you can change?" she pleaded. 

"We're here now. Let's get it done!" 

"But you're such a - a mess!"  

I looked around, looked down at myself, looked around again. "All
right, I'll do something about it!" 

A flick of my fingers had my skirt unbuttoned and unzipped and it
dropped around my ankles. Stepping out of it, I tossed it in the
car, leaving me in just my blouse and panties. 

"Oh my," mom murmured. "Are you sure you want to do this?" 

"It's legal. I saw two girls from school going in with less than
this on," I pointed out as I unbuttoned my blouse. 

"Well, I did, too, but I'm not as brave as they are, or you are,
I guess," mom admitted. 

My hands were shaking. I have to admit, I was not exactly sure of
this myself, but cum stains on my clothes made me look like a
total slut, I had to admit, so I thought it might be less
embarrassing to be semi-nude. And look at it from the point of
efficiency. By getting down to the essentials - my panties, in
this case, it was going to save a lot of dressing and undressing
as I tried things on! And who needed a changing room, either? 

"You didn't wear a bra this morning?" Mom sounded astonished as I
shed my shirt. 

"No bra," I assured her. I tossed my blouse in with my skirt and
closed the door. It locked automatically, really separating me
from my clothes, unless mom clicked the un-locker on her key
ring. "Let's go." I strode off a lot more confidently than I
felt. 

Then, as we crossed the parking lot, I realized that the thing I
was most ashamed of was my tacky, very plain, somewhat baggy,
utilitarian cotton panties. 

I almost wished I'd taken them off, too. 

Almost. 

Inside, the mall was, as usual, thronging with shoppers, mostly
women and mall-rat kids, with some elderly couples and men who
particularly gave me the eye. 

I tried to ignore their gazes, walking proudly, my titties
jiggling as we headed, as usual, for the least expensive shops
first. I was conscious of the looks I was getting, and the
feeling of the air on my bared tits and tummy. My underpants felt
confining and uncomfortable. 

A sign at the store entrance informed us that for each member of
a group that was topless the store would give 10 off, 20 off for
full nudity. I wondered what they did if a party of ten came in
naked, give a rebate?  

Then I read the fine print, where it said "up to 30 maximum." Oh
well, free was a bit too much to expect, I guess. If mom went
topless, then, and I dispensed with my panties we'd get the
maximum discount. 

I pointed this out to mom, and she blushed. "Oh, I don't think
so." 

Knowing we weren't likely to buy anything here anyway, I didn't
push the issue. 

If you think it's easy to find a prom dress when you're a size
0.5 (well, okay, I exaggerate, but not by much), think again!
There wasn't a thing that would fit me in the juniors or misses
sections, of course, or the junior petites. I needed a "midgets"
section. 

Try the children's section, you say? Children, I would like to
point out, do not usually go to homecoming dances. 

We went by Victoria's Secret just as a lark and I tried on a
couple of bras, but decided the look was not for me. I looked,
pinched, squeezed, up thrust and in-pressed, sort of like two
oranges trying to masquerade as grapefruit or something. 

I skinned off my underpants with the intention of trying on some
sexy panties, but the saleslady pointed out that if I tried them
on I had to buy them. Something about health regulations,
apparently, so I put the lacey dainties back. 

Mom asked if I was going to put my own panties back on.  

I looked at them distastefully. "No," I decided, stuffing them
into mom's purse. 

"Oh my," was all mom could say as I led the way out of the shop,
nude but for my shoes and socks. 

An hour and a half later we were forced to admit that we were
stumped. The only nice dresses were so big they looked like
they'd been fitted to me by Omar the Tent Maker. The few that fit
had all the stylishness of something worn by Minnie Mouse. 

But I did get a free soda at the food court for being nude. As we
sat there, sipping our drinks I contemplated the situation. When
I moaned "I have nothing to wear," I wasn't exaggerating. 

Mom ticked off shops on the mall map she'd picked up, as I
answered, "Been there, been there, been there," with monotonous
regularity, stirring my soda with the straw. 

She tossed the map down. "Well, that is that," she said with a
weary sigh. 

We looked at each other. I looked down at myself, naked at a
table in the food court of the biggest mall within fifty miles,
people of all ages and sexes strolling by, teenage boys giving me
the eye. I looked around. About twenty feet away, half blocking
access to the pizza counter there was a sort of ever changing
audience. The only reason it bothered the boy behind the counter
was it blocked his view of me. 

"Maybe we could at least find you a pair of shoes," Mom suggested
hopefully. 

Three clerks tripped over each other when I entered the shoe
store. There as a brief flurry as they flipped fingers at each
other to determine who got to wait on me. The fake leather of the
chair was cold under my butt as I sat down wearily, toed off my
loafers and pulled off my socks, leaving myself about as naked as
it is possible to get. 

Mom was walking the displays, perhaps trying to ignore the
display I was making. I'd tried, again, to get her topless, but
she'd refused. 

"May I measure your foot?" the clerk asked eagerly, dragging his
little shoe shop stool over as his compatriots looked on
enviously. "And what kind of shoe are you looking for?" 

"Something for a fancy high school dance," I explained. "Central
High is having its homecoming this weekend." 

"Oh, yes!" he exclaimed. "I hear at the game the cheerleaders are
going to be nude! I plan to be there." 

As I already am, you twit, I thought. "Yes, so I've heard." 

Unavoidably, I gave him an intimate view of my
no-longer-very-private treasures as he took my foot and slipped
the gadget under it that measured it. I could feel myself warming
as he fondled my foot, and stared at my crotch. 

I was getting horny! I knew my inner petals were opening, but I
discovered I had as much control over that as Carl did over his
hardon. Even mentally computing the powers of two up to where I
was getting an eight digit answer didn't do any good. "Well?" I
asked finally, blushing scarlet - my face, I mean, thank you very
much!. 

"Oh, you have a very small foot! I'll have to see if we have
anything suitable in your size," he explained, reluctantly
releasing my foot and getting up to go to the stock room. 

I got up and strolled around the shop, feeling eyes tracking me
as I did. 

The air! It was always there, touching me in places it didn't
usually touch, reminding me constantly of my nudity. I could even
feel pussy juices drying on my crotch. My nerve ends were more
alive than I'd ever known them to be. Carl had described it as
sensuous, and he was right. 

When the clerk finally came back with a few pairs I eyed them
dubiously. They were high, very high heels, with stack toes an
inch high. Now I don't know much about fashion, but I have
noticed that short women who wear high heels to make themselves
look taller only wind up looking foolish. 

But I sat down and let him play with my feet some more, and study
my crotch, as he slipped a pair of bright red strappy thingies on
my feet. 

When I got up, I wobbled. I tried walking, unable to avoid the
feeling that I was about to tip over one direction or another. I
am not used to high heels. I usually wear loafers or athletic
shoes of some sort.

These heels were so steep my feet slid down until my toes were
squeezing through the open toes like toothpaste coming out of the
tube. They forced my foot into a position that exceeded the flex
angle of my ankles, so I had to sort of tilt back from the knees
to compensate, thrusting my hips forward to balance, so I had a
hips first walk that was an open invitation to molestation. 

Prying my feet out of them after about three steps I handed them
back to the hopeful looking clerk. "I don't think so," I told
him. "The altitude is about to give me a nosebleed. Something
more like this, perhaps?" I indicated a lower heeled pump that
had caught my eye. 

One of the other clerks was there in seconds with them in the
right size and eased his buddy aside, so I gave yet another show
to another sales person. All the while my tummy was doing
flip-flops at my exposure, I admit. This was far beyond anything
I had ever dreamed I might do!

I was surprised at how mom was taking it, though. She never said
a word, only watched me, ready, I hoped, to leap to the defense
of my honor, what little I had left, should it be necessary. 

The shoes fit like Cinderella's slipper and I was Cinderella!
They were sparkly, like diamonds. I walked around in them a
little bit, but it was already a done decision. I decided to keep
them on so I had a chance to get used to them. 

"You seem to be getting rather comfortable with this," mom
observed as we left the shop, my loafers in a plastic bag
dangling from my hand. 

I waved at a kid I knew vaguely from school and he flashed me a
thumbs up sign. "It's, well, embarrassing, but I have to admit,
it's exciting, too. But I still don't have a dress for the
dance." 

"How about your hair?" mom asked. 

"My hair?" I touched my plain-Jane brown pony tail. 

"Wouldn't you like something nice done to it? Maybe a touch of
frosting, or a perm?" 

"Oh, I don't know." It just wasn't the kind of thing I'd ever
bothered with much, or makeup, either, for that matter. I wasn't
a femme fatale. I was a nerd! 

"Come on, let's have some fun," mom urged, guiding me to a beauty
parlor that took walk-ins. 

An hour later I walked out, not sure what had happened. My hair
had been washed, conditioned and something had been done to add
subtle streaks, they said. They'd showed mom a way to pin it up
that was simple and effective that she could do herself, but they
didn't let me see the results myself! 

"Now cosmetics," mom insisted, guiding me to a counter in a
department store where an elegant looking woman took charge of my
face. 

Half an hour later we walked away with a bag full of paints and
blushes and powders and stuff. My face had been Rembrandted into
something I wasn't sure I'd recognize, since they hadn't let me
look in a mirror. Mom had gotten a chart that showed how to
recreate the effect, since I wouldn't want to wear it to bed
tonight. 

I was still naked, of course, and I'd drawn the usual attention
wherever I went. At the salon they'd asked if I wanted my pussy
hair styled, but I declined! 

We were heading for the car, still worrying about a dress when I
was startled by a nude woman approaching me, wearing the same
sparkly shoes I was wearing. I stopped dead and she did, too! 

For a moment, all I could do was gape. I raised my hand and the
girl - woman - did, too. I touched my hair, she did, too, and I
realized I was looking at my reflection in a mirror, and blushed.


That was me? 

"What's the matter, dear?" mom asked. 

"I look like that?" I asked. I touched my own breast, and my
reflection touched its breast. 

"You're beautiful," mom assured me. "You've always been
beautiful." 

"No I'm not," I insisted, but my own reflection seemed to argue
with me. I was certainly different! What if Carl didn't like this
new me? 

"Look for yourself," mom pointed out. 

"Wow!" I breathed softly. 

"Let's go, dear, it's getting late and we still need to find you
a dress," mom reminded me. 

We'd gone a few yards, when I dared to voice a thought. "Mom, do
you think...." 

At the same time, Mom started to say, "Beth, what do you
think...." 

We both stopped. "You first,' I suggested. 

"No, you first," she countered. 

I was already telling myself to forget it. "It's nothing," I
insisted. "What were you going to say." 

Mom hesitated. "Well, it's a ridiculous idea, and - well, you
don't need to give it any consideration," she stammered. "But,
well, have you thought of going to the dance - uh - in the nude?"


I was frozen to the spot, because I'd had the same ridiculous
idea. "Oh, no, I couldn't," I stammered. 

"You're walking around naked here," mom pointed out, as people
passing by gave me the once, twice and thrice over. 

"Well, yes, but...." 

"Well, I guess it is a silly idea," mom said, backing down. 

"Silly idea," I agreed. 

"Let's go find you a dress," mom insisted. "Maybe the Bon Ami
will have something." 

"Maybe," I said, feeling a little pang even as I said it. 

"Still," mom said as she unlocked the car, "it's an interesting
idea, isn't it?" 

It gave me a tingle in my tummy. "Yeah." I looked at my clothes,
and tossed them in the back seat. The upholstery was so hot it
burned my bare butt. I couldn't get the idea out of my mind. 

"I'll do it," I said before we were even out of the parking lot.

"Do it?" 

"Do it," I answered confidently. "Go naked to the dance. After
all, Carl has to do it, and I'd be overdressed!" Then I had
another thought. "But what about daddy?" 

Mom giggled - yes, she giggles sometimes. I never do! "Well, we
can just tell him you didn't have a thing to wear," she pointed
out. 

I giggled. Yes, I know, I just said I never do, but I did. 

"But for now, why don't you put something on before you cause an
accident," Mom suggested as an oncoming driver saw my bare tits
and almost drove into a pole, so at the next light I unfastened
my seat belt and turned around, flashing my bare ass at the
traffic as I reached into the back seat and grabbed my skirt and
blouse, managing to struggle into them as we drove homeward, not
even bothering with my underpants. 

And that was the end of The Great Dress Hunt. 



-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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