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Message-ID: <52520asstr$1132960204@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "artie m" <silli_artie@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Naked In School: About Ron -- Monday Afternoon by artie
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Date: Fri, 25 Nov 2005 18:10:04 -0500
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<1st attachment, "nisr1b.doc" begin>

Naked In School: About Ron
Copyright 2003 by silli_artie@hotmail.com
  This work may not be reposted or redistributed without the
prior express written permission of the author.  A work of
fiction, meant for adults.  Read something else if you are not an
adult, or are offended by stories with sexual content.  Then
again, if all you're looking for is in-out, in-out, in-out, you
should probably read something else.  I welcome constructive
comments.  Enjoy.

Monday Afternoon

Meegan

Hey, Chrysta, sit down -- let me tell you about what just
happened at P.E.!  Well it was actually in the showers after, and
it was so hot!  When we went out to the field, some of the girls
were talking about this guy in our locker room, you know, The
Program.  They said he had this great tan, and muscles.  It's
kind of hot out, so Coach turned us in a few minutes early to
shower.  Peggy, Donna, and I headed to the showers -- and there
he was in the corner showering!  Oh hi Donna -- I was just
telling Chrysta.  God, that was fun!  Well those girls had been
wrong about his tan -- it was gorgeous, and no lines, either! 
You know Peggy -- she walked right up to him saying some shit. 
He'd been bent over washing his legs, and when he stood up, well
you know how dairy Peggy is -- she knows her talents and uses 'em
-- she grabbed him and hung him on a tit.  Well Donna and I
wanted to play too, so we went up and squeezed in on him.  I
talked dirty in his ear while I felt him up and I got one hand on
his cock.  Let me tell you, he's bigger and harder than that Hot
Stud Carl!  Donna was on his other side, running her hands over
him and I could hear her talking dirty to him too.  It was so
hot!  I was pumping him, sliding up and down on him, pressing him
into Peggy and she had a hand around the back of his head and God
you know how good that feels and he started moaning and shaking
so I slowed down to really do him good, and oh God when he came I
could feel it squirting up through him and it made me so hot! 
What happened next though was weird -- no, I don't know his
fucking name -- he like started to cry!  Just like that!  So
Peggy held him, rocking him, baby-talking him.  Donna and I
washed all of us off, him too and Peggy.  I was so hot -- I had
my soapy hands on Peggy and I kissed her and told her I wanted
her to hold me like that and you know what our good friend Donna
did?  I felt fingers in my cooter and I almost exploded, and so
did Peggy, still holding this kid to her tit but Donna stopped
before she got us off.  Hey Peggy!  I just told 'em the first
part -- wasn't he good?  Well, we took him to our lockers and
dried him off, kissing him and squeezing him between us getting
all of us hot again and there were these like spots on one of his
shoulders and what did you do, Donna, touch them or something? 
He started to cry again.  We sat him down and he was at just the
right height I latched him on to my right tit and when he started
sucking I almost came!  Then Peggy started baby-talking him
again, moving one of my hands to hold him better and she rubbed
both of us and Donna somehow got between us and went down on him.
 Oh, yeah -- that's him sitting over there against the wall
between the goth chick and the one with the glasses!  Oh, his
name is Ron?  Cool -- well Donna not only hoovered out his balls,
she also got a finger into me and gave me blessed relief!  And
all the time, Peggy was soft-talking and holding us.  God it was
so good!  But we had to let him go so we could like get dressed,
but we told him we'd take really good care of him.  I wanted to
put him on a bench and ride him!  Damn, I don't know how I'm
going to make it to the end of the day without ...  Oh Hi, Peter
-- yah, there's room.  Do you have notes from Math from
yesterday?  I couldn't understand what was going on.  Yah, I knew
Teri Benjamin shaved -- what's the big deal?


Ron

I don't know how I felt when I sat down with my tray in the
cafeteria.  It had been so good to be in a pool swimming again. 
The way Coach Natalie talked, I was on the swim team for sure;
she would get my schedule changed.

What happened in the shower?  That had been so intense, those
girls grabbing me.

"Can I sit with you?"

I looked up from my enchiladas.  It was Gloria, the chick who
talked to me in the hall.  "Sure."

She sat next to me.  After a bit she asked, "Did something
happen?  What's the matter?"

I managed a little smile.  "I don't know.  They want me to try
out for the swim team."

She hugged me.  "That's great!"


Gwen

I found him sitting against the wall in one corner of the
cafeteria.  There was a goth-chick sitting next to him, and I
mean right next to him.  As I walked up, she threw her arms
around him and yelled out, "That's great!"  I could see him
smiling a little.

I started to turn and go sit somewhere else, but he looked up and
saw me.  I started to turn anyway, but he said, "No, I need to
thank you -- please."

That almost broke my heart.  I sat next to him.  He had this real
funny happy-sad look on his face, probably a lot like mine.

"Thank you for what you said, what you did after class," he told
me.

All of a sudden it was hard for me to talk again.  "You're
welcome," I whispered.  Then louder, I told him, "What they said
was wrong.  It wasn't nice.  I'm sorry."

He nodded, smiling more.  "We'll live," he told me.

I thought about my little brother; he was three and a half.  Why
would anyone hurt a little kid?

I introduced myself to the goth; her name was Gloria, and she was
a Junior.  I'd heard some wild stories of things going on in the
showers on the other side of the locker room from mine, but
Gloria had P.E. first period, so it couldn't be her.  I told Ron
how great he looked swimming, and how big the smile on his face
had been when he got out of the pool.  That made him smile again,
and made me feel better too.


Gloria

A girl with glasses joined us, sitting on the other side of Ron.
Gwen was in a bunch of his classes, including P.E.  She was
really jazzed about the way he swam.  There was something weird
between them, something that must have happened in another class.
 I figured this was his first year at the school, but I didn't
know he'd just moved here from Japan, like a month ago!

He was talking some about living in Japan when two other kids
came over and sat across from us.  A guy and a girl, they were
both on the Swim Team and wanted to talk to Ron.  They got into
all sorts of swimming shit and I sort of zoned out until I heard
Ron say he swam every day at the Los Gusanos Country Club --
that's where I live!  I managed to get a question in, and he
lives three short blocks away from me; we're on opposite sides of
the pool and tennis courts.  He's closer to school than I am! 
Every afternoon after school he goes to the pool and swims laps.
Hmmm....

He talked more about living in Japan, on a little island.  They
had a really modern school that he went to, but other than that,
things were kind of primitive from the way he talked.

But he lived a few blocks away!

The guy was cute, but not as cute as Ron -- and I don't think he
lived that close to where I did.  I managed to find out a little
more about him, besides how much he liked to swim.  He sounded
pretty smart to me.

Then as it was getting close to the end of lunch Gwen asked him
if she could walk to history with him.  He gave her a very nice
smile and said yes.  That's okay -- I had my plan.  I told them
I'd take care of their lunch trays, and gave Ron a hug.

Beverly

I was just finishing my lunch when I saw Joyce come into the
cafeteria.  I waved to her and she joined me.

"Did you see him?" I asked.

"Ron?  Yes, in the corner.  I recognize the kids sitting across
from him -- they're swim team.  But who are the girls sitting on
either side?"

"The one with the glasses is Gwen, the one I told you about.  The
other one, I'm not sure.  I think she's a Junior."

"It looks like he's adapting."

"Yes," I agreed.  "I cornered Natalie a while ago -- she watched
him swim, and she's so excited, she can hardly stand it!  Of
course that means we'll be shuffling his schedule again."

Joyce chuckled.  "We should be able to do that.  Joe Hamada is
coming over early to talk to us.  What's Ron having for lunch?"

I gave her a funny look.  "The enchiladas, I think -- they were
pretty good.  Why are you so late?"

She sighed.  "Unraveling another weekend mystery."

"Anything I need to know about?"

She shook her head.  "Trying to clarify if someone's car was
misplaced, borrowed, or what after a wild party Saturday night."

I nodded.  "Any of my kids involved?"

"None of your first-period seniors; no, I don't think so."

"When's Joe going to be here?"

"Around the start of sixth period.  You free?  That's another
senior class for you, right?"

I nodded with a smile.  "And they're off hearing about University
placement this afternoon."

"So you'll join us?"

"Wouldn't miss it," I told her.

She turned and called to Miranda Cheung as she walked by. 
"Miranda!"

Miranda came over, smiling and cheerful as usual.  Her family had
been in the United States for about four years, emigrating from
Hong Kong.

"Did you enjoy lunch?" Joyce asked.

She told us she had, talking about her friends and things going
on around school.  Joyce interrupted her long enough to clarify
that she'd had the rice dish, a mixed-fried-rice.  She had, and
thought it was nice we even had chopsticks.  Joyce thanked her
and she headed off.

"No communications problems there," I muttered.

As Joyce nodded, I saw Shirley, one of our librarians heading
towards us.  She had a folder in her hand, and a troubled look on
her face.

She sat down across from us.  "Joyce, I think I found what you
were looking for."  She slid the folder to her.

Joyce took it.  "From the look on your face, I think you did. 
I'll look at this in my office."

I asked, "Confirmation of what Ron said in class?"

Shirley said, "That poor kid...."

I sighed and nodded.


Joyce

I showed two chagrined Seniors and a police officer out of my
office.  There huddled at a small table were Joe Hamada and
Beverly.  I sighed and ran fingers through my hair.  What a day
-- and it wasn't over!

"I'm so sorry to keep you waiting," I told them.  "Thank you so
much for coming over," I told Joe as I shook his hand.

"My pleasure," he said.

As Bev stood up, she said, "We've covered a lot of ground.  I
think I understand things a lot better."

I waved to my office.  "Go have a seat -- I've got to visit the
Ladies' room before I burst!"

As I returned, I looked at the clock -- 20 minutes until 7th
period!  "Doris," I called, "Please call the library and have
them send Ron Hanson to my office when he shows up?  Thanks!"

I stepped in my office and closed the door.  I hope it didn't
look like I was collapsing into my chair, even if that's what it
felt like.

"What was that about?" Bev asked.

"My previous guests?" I asked.

She nodded.

"A slight misunderstanding.  Someone reported his car stolen.  It
turned out that his friends took his keys and moved the car
because they felt he was too drunk to drive, and wouldn't listen
to reason."

Bev nodded.  "I hope he realizes what good friends he has."

"I think he's starting to.  Well, what can you tell me?"

Bev nodded, her eyebrows knitted in thought.  "Joe has been very
helpful.  Oh, he can reschedule to work with Ron 5th period so he
can move to Swim Team 7th period."

She looked to Joe.  "Let me try explaining it, to see if I
understand what we've discussed."

Joe nodded.

Bev took a breath.  "So much of it is cultural.  Remember talking
to Miranda at lunch?"

I nodded.

"If you ask Ron the same question, 'Did you have a good lunch?'
if I understand what Joe has told me, Ron won't make eye contact,
he'll pause for a moment, and then tell you 'Yes,' even though he
didn't have the rice, and wouldn't have the rice.  Did I get that
right?"  She looked to Joe again.

He nodded, smiling.

"Okay," I asked, "Now tell me why."

"For Japanese," she told me, "you don't make eye contact with
superiors -- it's a sign of disrespect.  And so is giving long
answers.  Rambling on, like Miranda did, would be extremely
disrespectful behavior in responding to a superior.  So when he
acts the way he does, he's showing respect.  He only answers
direct questions, and answers them as succinctly as he can, so as
not to waste a superior's valuable time or burden them with
information they don't need."

I nodded.  "That makes sense.  What about the rice, saying 'Yes.'
 What's that about?"

This time Joe spoke, but it took him a moment.  At first he
nodded, then he sort of sucked in air, and said, "Chotto ...
chotto ... Very difficult, very difficult."  He nodded silently
again.  Then he broke into a smile.

"Japanese are very hesitant to say 'no,' to someone, especially a
superior," he told us.  "So they will instead signal 'no' by
doing what I just did -- pausing, saying something is difficult,
wait a minute, or something similar.  Often they will say 'Yes'
at the same time they are signaling 'No.'  Another important
thing to remember -- when you tell a Japanese person something
and they pause, possibly for a long time, before replying, they
are showing you respect by taking the time to consider what you
have told them."

I nodded.  "Another piece of the puzzle.  But what about the
rice?  I had it done special to try and give him something
familiar."

Joe nodded silently again.  "Let me tell you about where this
young man lived in Japan.  The name for that island group is also
very similar to the Japanese word meaning 'insular' or
'isolated.'  He wasn't merely living in Japan -- he was living in
very rural Japan, almost 19th Century Japan."

I nodded.  More reading for me to do in my voluminous spare time,
it seems.

Joe continued.  "Rice is very important to the Japanese people
and culture.  Rice is a symbol of purity, and that's the way it
is eaten -- pure and white.  Oh there are some dishes where you
have vegetables and meat on top of rice, but the rice itself is
always white."

I nodded again.  "Okay, I meant well, but I screwed up.  I'll see
if the cafeteria can have some plain white rice available.  Would
that be good?"

Joe nodded, smiling.  "Sticky rice, not this fluffy American
stuff," he said with a dismissive wave of a hand.

"Okay.  I'll do that.  What else can we do?  How does The Program
affect him, do you think?"

He paused and looked to Beverly.

"To outsiders, Japan can be a very strange place.  To the
Japanese, you are either Nihonjin, Japanese, or Gaijin, a
foreigner.  Gaijin can never, ever, become Nihonjin.  So Ron,
although he has learned the language and the culture, can never
be Nihonjin -- he will always be Gaijin."

"In Japan we have Honne, the face we show at home, and Tatamae,
the face we show to the world.  These faces are very different. 
Honne, what we feel, must always be restrained in service of
Tatamae to maintain social harmony.  Japanese are very reticent
to talk about how they feel, about family life, about those kinds
of things.  It isn't done, especially in such a setting as this.
To burden others with personal problems, well, it doesn't happen.
 In Japan we say Gambatte -- suppress your feelings when duty or
the needs of the group require it --  practice endurance,
patience, perseverance."

"Image trumps reality?"  I asked.

He nodded and continued, "This is very difficult for me.  Ron is
quite a young man."  Joe paused and sighed.  "In some sense, Ron
and I are two sides of the same coin.  I was born in Japan, and
my father was sent to the States to work for his company.  We
were here from the time I was four until I was about fourteen."

He smiled a bit and chuckled.  "When I asked Ron how many Gaijin
there were in his community, he told me there were quite a few. 
I was surprised at this, and questioned him more.  It turns out
there were three Caucasians on the island -- his aunt, uncle, and
Ron.  The others considered Gaijin were people from other
Japanese islands.  That is how insular the culture can be."

He paused and sighed.  "And I, because I was away from Japan for
a critical period, I became Gaijin as well."  He smiled, but I
could tell it was forced.  "We were both very lucky.  We had
exposure to language at the right time so both of us are
accent-free in both languages.  Americans and others make fun of
the way Japanese try and pronounce some letters and words.  But
this is serious, and goes both ways.  They can't say them because
they can't hear them.  Without exposure to certain language
sounds at an early age, you lose the ability to distinguish those
sounds.  That is why Japanese have great difficulty understanding
contractions -- it is hard for them to hear the difference
between words such as 'can' and 'can't.'  And the American
learning Japanese has similar linguistic hurdles."

"But that isn't the serious problem, is it?" I asked.  I sensed
something deeper.

He sighed again and smiled, a sad kind of smile.

Bev spoke up.  "And all those things make it hard for Ron to tell
us 'No,' to tell us that something is not a reasonable request,
to tell us what's bothering him."

Joe nodded.  "A Japanese listener will pick up the signals and
give you a way out of the difficulty that doesn't upset social
harmony."

I started to understand.  "The big problem," I said softly, "Is
that Ron has spent most of his life trying to be Japanese.  But
he can't be Japanese, and never will be.  He can't fit there and
he doesn't fit here, either.  We truly are stripping him naked --
depriving him of language and culture."

Joe nodded, once again a sad smile.

Bev added in a soft voice, "And what does he have left?"

I picked up on what Joe had done.  I sucked air through my teeth,
leaned back in my chair, and said, "Chotto ... chotto...."

Joe nodded again.  "Yes -- very difficult."

I looked at the clock.  "So what can we do to help him?  We need
to make him aware of some of these cultural issues..."

"Without cutting everything out from under him," Bev added.

"Right," I agreed.


Ron

Gwen and I had history together after lunch.  I picked up my
books at my locker and we walked to class.  She held my hand. 
Ms. Walsh smiled at me, but that was it.  We studied history.

After that, Gwen had another class, and I headed to the library
to meet with Hamada-san for Japanese.

But when I got there, the librarian told me to go to Ms. Kelsey's
office.  At least I didn't have to worry about being late.

I held the library door open for Eric, letting him maneuver his
walker through the door.  He gave me a smile and said, "Nice
tan."

I thought about it as I walked to the admin offices.  I didn't
see any people with disabilities in Japan.  Harder to find than
Burakumin.  No, I knew the butcher on our island; my aunt and
uncle made a point of talking to him, much to the dismay of
others.

It happened in the hallway, just outside the admin office. 
Someone called me "ashtray."  I didn't look around.  I opened the
door to the admin offices and went in.  That's the way it's going
to be.

Ms. Kelsey's door was closed.  I started to sit down when one of
the office people told me, "She's expecting you, dear, knock and
go it."

I knocked on the door.  She called me in.

I was scared.  What now?  Hamada-san was there, as was Ms.
Foster.

"Please sit down," Ms. Kelsey told me.

I sat in the empty chair, between Ms. Foster, and Hamada-san.


Joyce

Ron sat in front of me, looking at my desk.  I understood better
now.  But how to help him understand?

"Ron, did you enjoy lunch?" I asked.

I saw his forehead wrinkle a bit, and after a pause, he said,
"Yes."  He sat there.  Just as predicted.

"Ron," I told him, "I want to thank you very much.  Thanks to
you, I'm learning quite a bit."

He smiled a little and nodded his head.

"Ron, are you still in Japan?" I asked.

That puzzled him.  He did manage to answer, "No."

"Ron, where do you belong?  Here, or in Japan?"  That was taking
a risk, but I had to know.

After a pause, and a sigh, he said, "Here."

I looked to Bev, and to Joe.  They smiled.

"I'm glad you think that, Ron, because we think you belong here
too.  Mr. Hamada is helping us understand the world you were in.
I understand now that not making eye contact with me is a way of
showing respect.  Is that right?"

He lifted his head a little and said, "Yes."

I smiled.  "I know Ms. Foster has talked to you about this.  I
want you to look me in the eyes, Ron -- that's it.  It's
important, because most Americans interpret lack of eye contact
as meaning something else."

He sat up a little more, looking at me.  That helped.

The poor boy -- the three of us worked him over for almost an
hour, with Joe speaking to him occasionally in Japanese.  Joe
even managed to get him to laugh a little.  I kept questioning
him, drawing him out, getting him to reply to me in full
sentences.  I don't know if it got easier for him, or we were
just beating him down.

I apologized for keeping him after school; Bev got his clothes
for him.  We reminded him that he didn't have to put up with
abuse, and that it was perfectly all right to say "No," or
"Stop."  Joe told him something in Japanese, sounding quite
forceful.  It must have helped.  We thanked him and let him go.

I collapsed in my chair again.  Bev laughed.

I looked at her.  "All right, what are you going to do tomorrow
to help him out?"

She smiled.  "Actually, I've already spoken to Ellen -- she's
going to help me tomorrow."

"Show and tell?  That sounds good.  Joe, any suggestions?"

He shook his head.  "We all must continue talking with him and as
you said, drawing him out.  It is if he goes silent that I would
worry."

I nodded.  "And I haven't heard from his aunt yet.  I guess we're
the closest thing to family he's got, like it or not.  Thanks,
folks -- please, let's keep talking as well."


Ron

Walking home was strange.  I'm not in Japan.  I don't know what
I'm supposed to do.  I guess school is a good place to learn,
then.  I wasn't looking forward to the rest of the week, though.
I walked into that great big empty house and into my room -- so
big, so full of things!  What do I do?

That's easy.  I dumped my books and changed into my swimsuit,
getting a t-shirt, a towel, and my sandals.  I will swim.  School
will be hard, but I will make it -- gambatte -- I will keep
going, and I will survive!


Gwen

I waited by the South door for a while, but Ron didn't show up. 
Maybe he was at swim practice already.  I saw Gloria waiting too.
 I decided to head home.

Mom was home, but the first thing I did was hug my little brother
Gary and kiss him and hug him until he wiggled away from me.

Mom looked at me, and I started crying again.  She held me and I
told her about Ron, what happened, and what I did.  We talked for
a while and that helped.  Some things I understood better, but
some things I didn't.  I didn't understand why anyone could hurt
a little kid like that; mom couldn't explain that to me either. 
I did know that I needed to help, and I would.  I don't know what
I'll do, but I know I have to help.


Gloria

I hung around school waiting for Ron, but finally gave up and
walked home.  I knew mom was at a meeting at the hospital and
wouldn't be home until late.  There was a message on the
answering machine from dad -- he got called into emergency
surgery and wouldn't be home until ten.

But that suited me just fine, in fact better than fine!  I went
to my room and grabbed a vibrator from my toy box.  I didn't even
bother to strip -- I fell back on the bed and did myself,
imagining Ron's smooth, tan body.

I cleaned up a little after I came to my senses.  I moved a
frozen Lasagna from the freezer in the garage to the house --
dinner for me, at least.

I got a book and my sunglasses and walked to the pool.

He was there swimming.  Since he was the only one in the pool, it
was easy to tell where he'd put his stuff.  I sat down next to
his towel, shirt, and sandals.  Rather than read, I sat there and
watched him swim.

I'd taken swim lessons when I was little; I knew how.  I got a
"B" in swimming last year, easily.  But he was so smooth.  I
don't know how you do those turns, flipping around, but he made
it look easy, even when he went from freestyle to backstroke.  He
kept going and going and going.

He made a turn and started swimming furiously.  He did that for a
lap and I thought he was done, but he went back to swimming
slower for a while.  He did slow then fast, then slow, then fast,
then slow for a while.  One last fast lap, and he floated on his
back for a while.  I could see the smile on his face from where I
sat.

He started getting out of the pool.  I picked up his towel and
met him half way.

"Hi there," I said, hoping my voice was as sexy as I felt.

"Hi.  Thanks," he told me, taking the towel.  He was still
breathing fast.  He was also still smiling.  We sat down again.

"You do that every day?" I asked him.

He nodded.  "If I can.  It was crowded yesterday at the usual
time, so I had to swim late.

"You have plans for dinner?"  Why waste time?

He shook his head.  "No.  My uncle is out of town, and my aunt is
at a meeting at the hospital."

"Oh!  She works there?"

"Yes -- she's a director or something."

"What does your uncle do?"

"Bank president -- he's off this week at some meeting in Dallas.
What do your parents do?"

"My dad is a surgeon - cardiologist; he got an emergency call. 
Mom is a plastic surgeon; she's at the same meeting as your aunt.
 Want to join me for dinner?"

"That would be nice," he told me.

I asked him about homework.  He didn't have that much, and
neither did I.  We talked for a bit.

"Ready to go?" I asked.

He stood up.  "Uh, sure -- we should stop at my aunt and uncle's
place though so I can shower and change."

"Fine with me."

I decided to be aggressive -- I put an arm around his waist as we
walked.  We walked without saying much.  His place was built a
little before ours, I'd guess; we'd been here for about five
years.

He let out a big sigh as we went in the door.

"What is it?" I asked him, rubbing his shoulders.

He had a funny look on his face.  "I'm still getting used to it
-- Ushida-san, the man I worked for, he was my swim coach too,
his whole house was only a little bigger than my bedroom."

We went upstairs to his room.  "Look at this," he told me.

Looked like a normal room to me, except that it was way too
clean.

"Yeah?"

He shook his head, that funny smile again.  "Six of us lived in a
space smaller than this!  And we didn't have a big TV, or a
computer, or a fancy bathroom."

He had a cool iMac with the big LCD screen and a nice TV.  Nice
big bed, too....

"Uh," he muttered, "I'll take a quick shower."  He got clothes
out of drawers and went into the bathroom, closing the door
behind him.

I sat on his bed.  I started looking around when I heard the
shower going.  I was totally evil -- I picked up his pillow and
pressed my face into it, falling back with my other hand going
past my waistband and into my panties.

I wanted his scent, and more.  Oh God -- so soon I was twitching
and coming, there on his bed.

The shower stopped.  Panting, I pulled his pillow off my face and
sat up.  I plumped up the pillow and replaced it, standing up and
smoothing his bed out as I caught my breath.  So quick!

He came out of the bathroom, dressed and wearing the same
sandals.  He must have seen me looking at them.

"Not much sense wearing shoes for the rest of the week," he
said.

"Been there," I told him with a nod.

We headed downstairs, but he turned to the kitchen.  "What's your
phone number?" he asked.

I smiled and told him.  Then I saw him writing it on a little
whiteboard on the refrigerator.

"Letting them know where I am," he told me.

I took his hand again as we left the house.  We walked past the
pool to my place.

We went in and to the kitchen.  "Lasagna okay for dinner?"

He nodded.  "Sure."

"Something to drink?"  I opened the refrigerator.

"Ah, 7-Up?"

I handed him a can and grabbed a Pepsi for myself.  I took the
lasagna out of the container and put it in the oven, setting the
timer.

"Why don't we go in the other room?  It's going to take about an
hour to cook," I told him.  Ten minutes in the microwave, but
what fun was that?

We sat in the living room.  I opened the drapes while he sat
down, then I sat next to him.

We sipped our drinks for a while.  "How was your first day?" I
asked.

"In The Program?" he said.  "I'll live."

"My first day was rough.  It took me completely by surprise.  It
was also February -- it was cold, and those hallways are drafty
between classes!"

He managed a chuckle.

I moved closer to him on the couch.  "I heard you had an
interesting time in the shower after P.E.," I said in my sexiest
voice.

He sighed and put down his can.  I put mine next to his.

"Tell me," I whispered, "Did you like that?"

He sighed again and turned slightly, looking at me.  The look on
his face was so complex.

I closed my eyes and pulled him closer.


Ron

I don't know what happened, that first time.  One moment we were
sitting there talking, and the next we were kissing, our clothes
came off, and I was so hungry, and I think she was too, and I was
inside her.  She held me, pulling me into her as we moved.  I
came so quick and so hard it left me dizzy.  I collapsed on top
of her.  She held me.

I'd read that the first time was supposed to be special.  I
wasn't sure what hit me.  I could hear and feel her quick
breathing and her heart beating fast, just like mine.

When we got up, I reached for my clothes.  She pulled me to a hug
and whispered, "Why bother?" in my ear.  I closed my eyes and
held her; she was right.

We sat in the kitchen and ate dinner.

Gloria is very pretty.  I cleaned up dishes after dinner.  When
she asked me why, I explained how we lived in Japan -- so little
room that everything had to be put away after it was used.  Then
she said it -- "You aren't in Japan any more."

Talking to Hamada-san, Ms. Kelsey, and Ms. Foster stirred up a
lot of things inside me.  I wasn't in Japan any more.  And I was
realizing something else -- I wasn't Japanese.  That was scary.

She stepped closer to me.  I guess I laughed a little.  When she
asked me why, I told her -- "Pink."

She didn't understand; I didn't expect her to.  I explained that
in Japan, and especially where we were, it was dark hair, brown
eyes, almond skin -- and she was so pretty, and so pink.

I remember reaching out and touching her breasts, hearing her
take a breath, and watching her nipple respond.  I felt myself
respond, too.

We gathered our clothes and went to her bedroom.  Even without
the light on, it was a mess!  So many things strewn about!

She closed the door and pushed me back on her bed.  We kissed,
running our hands over each other.  She took me inside her and
sat up on me.  I held on, at first to her hips, then to her
breasts.  I remembered how Yuki liked me to squeeze her nipples;
I did that to Gloria and she cried out, rocking, coming, and
making me come inside her.  She rocked more, then collapsed on
top of me.  We went from kissing to snuggling close, skin against
skin.

"Gloria sweetie, I'm home," a man's voice called out.

That's how I woke up, in the dark, in someone's bed, in someone's
arms -- Gloria.

I tried to move, but she grabbed me and held me close.

"I love you, daddy," she answered out loud.

Then she whispered, "Shhh -- he'll go right to the shower.  It's
okay."

We heard a door open and close.  I got up and she helped me
dress.  It was a little after nine.

She led me downstairs and to the door.  We kissed on the porch,
and I headed back to my aunt and uncle's place.

What a day!  I spent half an hour trying homework, but gave up
and crashed.

My head was still spinning as it hit the pillow.  When I rubbed
my eyes, I could smell her on my face, and on my hands.

It had been so nice in bed with her afterwards.  I thought about
it -- something else I missed, or at least was different.  In
Japan, all of us sleeping in the same room, a room always full of
the sounds of other people.  During the heat of the summer, we're
only covered by light cloth.

So different here, so quiet, so alone.  I closed my eyes and
tried to remember what she smelled like, what she felt like, what
she sounded like as we snuggled together.


Work in ProgressRev 03/22/2004

Naked in School: About Ron By silli_artie@hotmail.com
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/artie/www




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