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Dreams Without Guilt or Shame: the CHALLENGE

2022-06-28 00:00:03

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story was written as a submission of the writers' competition by 'eljs' and 'J Jackass Tails'. It is a fictional telling of a sexual awakening by a young
teen. Among the criteria of the submissions is thematic associations with the song:
"All I Have To Do Is Dream", sung popularly by Roy Orbison, the Everly Brothers, and
others. Another criterion is the central character in narrative perspective must be the
opposite sex of the author. I pose the usual disclaimer that the posted themes for
this story will not suit the tastes and preferences of all the readers at XXNX.

"In your dreams, Peggy Sue. Mr. Rodmann would have no more to do with a little frump like you than he would fuck his own grandmother."

Cheryl let out a giggle with a response. "Considering how hot that man is, his grandmother might just be one strutting babe."

They both laughed. But 14 year old Peggy Sue did not appreciate the insinuation of the earlier remark. "Mr. Rodmann is our algebra teacher. I would never expect him to have anything to do with any of us the way you make it sound."

Clarice was the girl who derided Peggy Sue. She let out an intentional unfriendly cackle. "Oh come on there, kiddo. Just look at yourself. You practically went into heat there watching him." From the vantage point of the girls, Mr. Rodmann wore only baggy sports shorts, x-training shoes with white anklet socks, old fashioned style tortoise shell rimmed sunglasses, and a baseball cap not really concealing a white head band very well. He was tanned, fit, nice furry sculpted pectorals for not especially broad shoulders, respectable biceps for otherwise lean tough-looking arms. Toned abs with just a hint of midriff were furry especially about the navel, but the graze plunged below the belt in ways that could inspire the fertile imaginations of teen girls at a time of new awakenings. The hem of his shorts was too low for not revealing enough of great powerful hairy legs.

It was an unusually warm humid day in late October. The 9th grade girls were walking home after field hockey practice. Hollis Rodmann was an assistant coach for varsity soccer, and on days he felt he had not exercised himself in practice as well as the boys on the team, he would run one or two laps around the track. Covered in a sheen of profuse sweat, he recognized his students at the periphery of the campus and waved to them as he sauntered off to the boys locker room, breathing hard - lots of pit hair there.

Clarice continued on with her taunting tone. "Peggy Sue is going to have to change her panties when she gets home." Peggy Sue just shot her a contemptuous glare in return.

Cheryl's focus was still on the 1/2 dressed man they had just witnessed. "I would love to be able to follow him into the showers."

Clarice brightened with the contemplation. "If he is the only one there, do you suppose he does those hygenic things they say boys won't do in front of each other, but only in the privacy of their bathrooms at home?"

"You mean like stick a corner of the bar of soap up their bung holes and open wide to rinse real carefully?"

"Well we don't clean that obviously back there ourselves. But I am told that boys avoid cleaning there altogether because it is considered a gay signal." All 3 giggled now. "And if he is uncut, now he could pull back his foreskin to wash himself under there and make sure he doesn't ferment a skim of cheese."

"Ewwwww. I can almost understand why boys would not want to show each other doing that. But if he has real privacy, he could jack off in there."

The high pitched laughter and chortles continued. "I'll bet he has a great looking dick. And if that nice furry tummy indicates anything, I'll bet he sports a real man's nest of dick weed."

"Yeah, I have been told that boys don't spend much time in the showers cleaning their packages, because for more than just a few seconds, that is considered a gay signal. Now if he is the only one there, he could lather up that bush and shuffle that dick and sac of balls all about and every which way, rinse the man stuff off with all the hot water to his heart's content."

"OhmiGod, that would be such an amazing sight to behold. If someone were to upload it to YouTube, it would get a gazillion hits." The laughter of the girls almost started to assume a convulsive tone.

Cheryl bantered on. "Do you remember when Miss Venusload told us in western history last week about the image of the sensual woman that started in the humanist traditions of the Renaissance times, last week."

"Yeah, so?"

"I really think the emphasis all along should have been on the sensual man."

"If he is a built hunk and a dreamboat like Mr. Rodmann, you got that right."


When Peggy Sue got home, she felt rejected again by her peers at school. Actually Clarice had noticed things about how she felt that she did not think people would notice. It was true that for less than a minute her pulse raced and her breathing became shallow. But she felt certain the other girls experienced the same physiological response. She took off all her clothes and looked at herself in the full length mirror of her bedroom door. Was she really such a 'frump'?

Her tits were developing almost at or better than most of the girls of her year. She had just been fitted with a B-cup bra and did not require much padding to fill out the form fitted garment. Her waist had spread a little and she had shaped out a small but oval ass, when other girls about her age still seemed to have the buns of a little boy. The makings of an hour glass were clearly evident. If only she could get proper hairstyling and her mother would stop with the stupid barrets. Her wardrobe was such a fiasco, she did not even want to think about it. Her menstruation has been in good cyclical order for what as her friends say "has been like forever."

She did not put clothes back on. She merely wrapped herself in her terry cloth robe and dove into her homework assignments comfortably. A year earlier, their parents had argued about her proper attire at dinner time. Her father had asserted that she should be dressed at the table as she chose. His argument was that if the top priority in her life was to be her schoolwork, she should be supported as such in many ways including optimum comfort. If it was good enough for her to immerse herself in her studies after her shower in only her robe and a towel wrapped around her hair, then on school nights she should be allowed to be seated at the dinner table that way. Her mother contradicted that was inappropriate.

As usual, her mother won the argument, and she had to dress at least in informal relaxation for dinner.


When Peggy Sue was a little girl of 8, she happened to be walking to the kitchen from her bedroom and walked by the bathroom when her father was inside taking his usual Saturday night shower, so the bathroom would be free for her mother before church the next morning. She heard him make loud grunts and then moans. She ran to her mother. "I think there is something wrong with Daddy. He needs help."

"No hon, there is nothing wrong with Daddy. He just has a funny way of enjoying his shower. When you are older and better able to understand it, I will tell you."

Last year, her mother explained to Peggy Sue her father's moaning in the shower and it shocked her at first, and then she came to resent her mother. "Your father is masturbating in there. I have asked him to stop being so vocal about it because he is embarrassing his family for it. We have talked to you about boys and girls your age and how your hormones take off. Your father and I are going to do our damndest to be sympathetic. You know you can talk to us about anything. Well, it is as if your father's hormones have never settled down much, but mine have. I really do my best to please him, but at the end of the day and night, I just don't have the energy."

Peggy Sue could not accept her mother's explanation. Here their daughter was at a time in her life when she was expected to displace all her feelings and sense of physical excitements for other responsibilities. By contrast, her parents were together, as so many of her friends' were not, and they had license to connubial bliss. Who did her mother think she was? She was supposed to be partner to her father in all things related to physical intimacy. She should make the effort to fulfill her father's needs no matter how urgent or elevated. If her mother did not have the stamina to keep up with the man she was committed to in love and matrimony, then she should see a doctor.

That night, she had a dream that she heard her father moaning in his masturbation even from within her bedroom. It kept getting louder. But the moans started to become cries of distress, much like those of the nightmarish Jack Nicholson character in "THE SHINING". Worse yet, he was calling out to her. "Oh Peggy Sue, I need your help. Please come to me and help me."

"Oh Dad, what's wrong? Wait! I'm coming." In her dream, the young teen seems to have trouble pulling her bed covers away. Somehow her nightie gets tangled in them and she desperately appreciates that the only way she is going to be able to free herself from the jumble of restraint is to pull her nightie off herself.

"Oh please Peggy Sue. I love you so much and I need you to help me now."

"I love you too, Dad. Please wait and I will be right there to help you." It is an effort for the teen in her nocturnal fantasy to arise from her bed, even though she is as naked as on the day she was introduced to her parents in the world. Even though she attempts to sprint across her bedroom to its door, every step seems a tiny increment in the goal of reaching her destination. When she finally reaches the bathroom door and opens it, the normal scale of her momentum is restored and she is able to bound through even nearly knocking through the shower curtain into the tub.

"Oh Peggy Sue, what took you so long? I need you to come to me, now." Oddly, the voice behind the shower curtain seems different from what she knew to be her father's, but somehow strangely familiar. She tears back the shower curtain and is delivered a jolt of adrenaline for the sight of the soaking man under the rush of hot water from the shower head is not her father, but Mr. Rodmann, all glistening from shower soak, the curl of his chest hairs all stretched out by the weight of the wetness, smiling at her.

She awoke by jerking herself upright and gasping. She had broken out in a sweat with an odor that was more unpleasant than usual. She was angry that the sound slumber she craved was interrupted by such an annoying dream. She impatiently lifted off her nightie, bundled it up into a ball in her fists, and lifted it to her nose. "Pewww!" She tossed it away. She was going to sleep nude in her bed for the rest of that night in an effort to enjoy some much needed deep sleep. Screw this house, screw her parents, screw the girls at school, and screw school. When she got up the next morning. she resolved that she would not bother to take the time to wrap herself in her robe to the shower. She would just stomp to the bathroom her natural self and if her parents said something about it, she would tell them to fuck off. The next morning she saw her father as she was about to step into the bathroom sitting in their small living room as usual in just his underwear, reading the morning paper with his coffee and orange juice. Still fatigued, he did not bother to look up, thereby missing the encounter of his daughter in the regalia of the nudity of a female in wondrous transformation to well-heeled womanhood. It was only just after the bathroom door clicked that she heard her father greet her. "Good morning, Peggy Sue."

"Good morning, Dad."


That day, she could not get the dream out of her mind. Hours later, it did not seem so obnoxious to her. In algebra class, just as briefly as the day before, her breathing became shallow and her pulse raced for the whole of the 40 minutes. She did not really hear a word Mr. Rodmann was saying, but she was tuned in more than usual to the conviction in his voice. The confidence in his classroom oratory was almost as song-like as an impresario's. He regaled to students how to sort out thorny equations as if he was mastering the riddles of the Sphinx and recounting the wisdom of the sages from time immemorial. It was a symphony of spoken authority, never talked down to, but bursting enthusiasm by one desperate to pass on skills of great utility to new generations. By the end of that class, the admonition of her taunting neighbor Clarice from the day before held true. No mistaking, now she did need to change her panties.

At lunch, as luck would have it, Mr. Rodmann was assigned to be a monitor in the cafeteria that day. She did not listen to a word the girls and boy she was sitting with have to say, but had her eyes trained on the teacher the whole time. Near the end of the hour, she approached him not sure what she was going to say. She stuttered and stumbled trying to articulate a confusion about her recent algebra assignment.

"Young lady, I do not think you understood what I said in class today very well. You seem to be distracted with other issues. I understand, we all have our off days and you seem to be someone who tries her best. You know how eager I am to tutor students one-on-one. . . But you know I have my coaching duties at this season. You have field hockey practice?" The teen nodded. "Ok! Why don't we schedule a short meeting this afternoon in my home room classroom. If that is not enough, remember I have an open house for math tutoring every Saturday afternoon at my little home. So let 's meet at my home room, say between 4:30 - 5:00." She nodded again. He beamed a sunny smile and gave her an infectious pat of encouragement on her shoulder blades. She melted into a swoon of gooseflesh and electric heat that especially settled into her growing pair and between her legs.

At field hockey practice, she could not concentrate and could not do anything right including retain her appropriate position on the field. Her coach yelled at her. "Kid, I told you about the importance of ingesting a lot of fluids well before the beginning of practice, especially if it is your time of the month. The heat today is getting to you much more than it should. Get to the showers now and be better prepared for tomorrow." She showered in cool and tepid water, but still could not help from tingling all over in her nakedness with the prospect of the upcoming interview with a profound masculine presence.


She was at Mr. Rodmann's home room classroom just before 4:30. She waited patiently rummaging through the classroom, checking through the math books he kept there. Some of them seemed to be very advanced. She looked under the desk seat racks to find doodling pads some students had left behind. Inserted between pages were printouts of porn, obviously left behind for friends to view. Vanilla and anal sex between younger men and presumed MILFs seemed to be the flavor of the month ~ very unoriginal.

It seemed that appointment would commence past schedule. In her boredom, she canvassed the top drawer of her teacher's desk. She found photos of some teachers, some of them with him posed among them. She found pictures of his blond former fiancee who Peggy Sue thought resembled the late Farah Fawcett. In one, she was clad in only her bra and pantie thong. She was smiling radiantly reaching back as if to unclasp her bra. The teen wondered how many months and years she would have to wait before she would be at the age where it was considered routine for couples to be sexually active even if not married?

But in the back, she found photos of Bruce Sideways, a friendly younger man who had been with the PE staff in the town for a couple of years right out of college. He was a few pounds on the chunky side, but sported a trim beard and moustache which the girls thought an emblem of appealing maturity. Some of the pictures were of the 2 assistant coaches with arms around each other or arms draped around each others' shoulders, a beer in the other hand by one or both. Why so many pictures like this? She found a woodsy outdoor picture in the middle of the pile which showed Bruce bare chested as she pulled it up, but he seemed to still to be bare some below the belt as more than 1/2 the photo was being revealed to her.

"What are you being such a bitch about?"

It sounded like her teacher and that appointment was finally going to ensue after 5:00 PM. They sounded like they were still a little way down the hall, so coolly and quietly, the young student was able to return contents back into the drawer and noiselessly close it before she was caught in a brazen breech of privacy.

"We've been away from all those boys for nearly an hour."

"Where do you come off thinking I am a bitch. I am coming back to your classroom the way you asked me, am I not?"

"You're just pissed off because there were still PE staff using the showers when we were there."

Peggy Sue just froze, but she did not want to freeze. If Bruce Sideways was going to come into his classroom with him, then her teacher probably forgot about their tutoring appointment. But somehow spying on the 2 was going to be so much more interesting than reminding him of their brush with algebra, even if the student and teacher would ultimately be alone together. She did some quick thinking and remembered that on that floor there were 2 doors to every classroom. One into the other side of the supply and cloak closets. She could peek at the 2 for awhile, and then quietly escape out to the hall to knock at the classroom door while the 2 of them were in the middle of who knows what. The sense of delicious mischief was overwhelming.

She managed to sneak in to the closet and close one of the wide doors so it was only open a crack just as the 2 stepped into the classroom.

"No don't sit down there, cutie." Bruce had started to seat himself at one of the attached desk seats at the front of the classroom.

"What, are you too much of a stud to sit on a teacher's lap at his desk chair?"

The heavier man picked himself up and inched his way over to the teacher by his institutional desk. "The way you order me around, you have the nerve to call me a bitch?"

"Shut up and let me get my groping paws on you." The man in the chair pulled at the short haired dark blond heavier man and he practically fell into his lap. The man in the lap of the other wrapped his heavy arms around his shoulders and their heads moved into open mouths for deep kissing. More than lips, tongues clashed and explored, moving in and out, they would pull back every 20 seconds or so for an affectionate juicy smack.

Even more interesting to Peggy Sue was the hand of her teacher firmly gripping the inside of one of the thighs of the man seated on his lap. Its intention was obviously to move up to the end of the thigh where male anatomy was situated between the legs and in an evident state of momentous excitement against the fabric of the man's jeans. Outside of maybe still life porn representations, Peggy Sue had never seen this behavior between people of the generally bulkier sex and it served as an entertainment of greater fascination and deserving of more focused observation than any other that had been presented to her to date. If being voyeur to such spectacles between men of substance was to be the brunt of her life's experiences in their remainder, then it would be a life of enriched fulfillments. More than her pulse racing, her heart pounded in the anticipation of revelatory explicit renderings ahead.

Those renderings were not the slightest disappointment to her. Captivated into a sort of hypnotized spell, her eyes followed the details of the fingers of her teacher's hand move up and now gently embrace the fabric that covered the orbs that festered the millions of microscopic seeds to wriggling life within the man seated on his lap. The palm and fingers boldly moved up the pillar of aroused male flesh so stretched and bound by the inhibition of below the belt garments. It was all too apparent that despite firm attentive caresses, an organ writhing below the fabric suffered from terrible constraints. But wait, her teacher's fingers started to fumble with the opening of the zipper. Could it be that blessed liberation was in store for torrid masculine presence?

She watched with a sense of enlivened celebration and emotional triumph as her teacher was able to pull down the zipper, but the organs of interest were still bound by their constraints. By tactile explorations alone the fingers worked their way into the fly and perhaps a boxer fly? Peggy Sue could not know for sure. She was at one with the intentions and enthralling purposes of the 2 men she was spying on. But as fingers curled in presumed grip of the excited flesh that was in need of liberation, Bruce seated on the lap of the man who must be his lover breathed a shuddering sigh of unmistakable pleasure. Fingers alternately curled and straightened and a hand grip shifted about. This was to be a moment in Peggy Sue's life almost as significant as her first period. At long last she would be witness to a living male penis in all its glory of excited straining arousal ~ the throbbing cock that is at the heart of so many girls erotic ardor. The hand tugged at what was in its embrace and just as something seemed to emerge what would next be in full view, this was the moment that books fell from a shelf above her on the closet. Shuffling against just a couple of jackets or coats, Peggy Sue must have rustled items that were not well secured in place.

She heard Bruce jump off her teacher's lap and try to obscure released body parts again and zip up. She tried to make a hasty exit through the door from the closet out into the hall but was appalled to find that it was locked from the inside. From where she stood in darkness, she could not be sure how to unlock the door or even if she was able.

"Hello in there." Mr. Rodmann was calling out to anyone concealed in a seedy den of secret witnessing - an almost cowardly cover for anyone who would surreptitiously leer at acts between people of such personal intimacy normally functioning in scrupulous privacy.

Busted! There was no other way for the adolescent student to think about it. There was no escape. Moments ago, she was about to behold a live spectacle of such enthralling erotic human endeavor, it was grist for a dream mill she would never have been able to conjure until now. But as she stepped from the cramped closet to reveal herself to lovers just seconds earlier in passionate embrace, she was living a nightmare of guilt, shame, and nerves on edge for the raw fear of bitter consternations directed toward her.

When the spying culprit was sighted by the teacher he just shook his head in dismay. "Bruce, I cannot be sure if you have ever been introduced to Peggy Sue?"

The other man broke out into a forced smile. "At some point I am sure I have been. It is always a great pleasure to be acquainted with the many pretty young ladies who are students here." It was obvious to the other 2 that Bruce was being obsequious.

"Indeed! The young lady had schedued a tutoring session with me just now. In an unforgivable lapse of occupational memory, I failed to make that appointment. I owe you both a bigger apology than Peggy Sue owes us." He signaled the student to be seated at the front most desk seat. "Bruce, if you don't mind, I would like to be alone wih my student for a few minutes."

Bruce left them with mannered expressions of greeting on exit oddly incongruous to an unusually embarrassing moment. "So nice to see you again, Peggy Sue."

The teacher rolled his chair from behind his desk to directly in front of his seated student. "Now, Peggy Sue, it is getting late and I would like to make up our tutoring session tomorrow evening. Just before practice I checked your progress in this class and you are getting along with a constant C. I think you could do better. This is what I would like to do about it. I have your email address and I want to send a message that will be read by your parents. I want them to agree to an extended tutoring session tomorrow evening where you would be my guest for dinner here on the school campus. I'll get pizza or something. I would make sure you are home no later than 8:30 to finish your other assignments. I will notify them about the Saturday sessions at my home. You kids often don't like this, but parents are welcome then too. I am going to recommend that you be present at least one Saturday a month. Now is this all agreeable, to you?"

She nodded up and down again. Her pulse was racing.

"Please don't just nod, Peggy Sue."

"Yes, Mr. Rodmann. I think it could work for me. It might depend on what my other homework assignments are tomorrow night."

"Fine, thank you, if we get this far, we will consider that tomorrow night. " Now the teacher leaned over in his chair to make sure his young student was looking at him directly in the eye. "Now Peggy Sue, I think you know between us that tomorrow night I would like us to talk more than about your progress as a student. It is up to you if you would also like to talk about what you saw here this afternoon. . . I will just say now that the conduct of Mr. Sideways and myself was inappropriate on school grounds. It is your right as to whether or not you want to report us. I would probably lose my job. I think I could get Mr. Sideways to keep his."

The teenage student broke out into a frown and then soft little sobs. "I wouldn't want any of that to happen."

"Ok, I apologize to you for so many things, most especially that I have upset you now. Please try to stop crying. It would help us both if you could start to think about this situation with objective reason and not so much emotion. Again, I am so sorry. We could start to forget about this now, or we could talk about it tomorrow."

The young student struggled to fight back tears. "Why are you apologizing? What I saw you doing with Bru . . Mr. Sideways was beautiful. I was the one who was the mean little sneak, spying on you." The young teen so flooded with hormones was in a tangle of mixed feelings. They only upset her more and the sobs surfaced again.

The teacher tried to tone down his voice to generate a more soothing effect. "Oh young lady, that is a sweet and very precocious thing to say. It is nothing to weep about. You may have bad feelings for, as you say, 'spying' on us, but if you learn constructive things from your mistakes, it will all work out better in the end. There may be something beautiful about what you were able to see this afternoon. If you really feel that way, then I humbly thank you for your appreciation. You will learn there is always a time and place for everything in life. I made the mistake of bad choices in time and place."

The teacher had developed good skills in oration right down to a bedside manner. His choice of words and overall tone was having the desired effect on the teen. "Now I only want that you brighten up and go home and concentrate on your studies. Check on your email in the next hour or 2. If it helps, for a little while, think about the things this afternoon that you think are beautiful. Forget about any mistakes any of us made for the next day or so. Even more than algebra, Peggy Sue, I want my students and all young people your age to know that mistakes and our bad conduct toward others are to be learned from. Never allow guilt and shame to control our lives. Never inflict guilt and shame on others except in the rare instance where we must to protect ourselves. Guilt and shame corrupt our dreams. Without them we can dream sweet dreams."

The teacher smiled more to himself than to the student with whom he shared very candid and personal conversation. "I am a very reckless man who enjoys the adventure of taking risks far beyond prudent calcuation - even more than mathematical calculation." He chuckled. "I think you witnessed some of that this afternoon. I don't know if you are old enough to understand what I am saying, but please be much more prudent than I am for the rest of the day and don't take any unnecessary risks. Then you might be able to dream sweet dreams tonight, my friend. One day you will learn how beneficial good dreaming can be to all of us."

The teacher smiled and patted his young student's girlish hands. She melted again in a flush of warmth and a swoon of gooseflesh.


The young teen left the school grounds to walk home on her own. A janitor allowed her to use one of the administration phones to call her mother to say she was on the way, now that it was nearly dark. Cell phones had become cheap and convenient. Why could they not let her have one now?

Her mind was overwhelmed with a flood of questions. Is Mr. Rodmann gay? How could that be if he had just been engaged to a beautiful woman? When he was talking with Bruce in the hall about other people using the showers late in the afternoon, did that mean they would have liked to have had sex in the boys locker room? If the books had not dropped from the shelf in the closet, and she would have been able to see Bruce's captive cock freed and pulled from his pants, what would have happened next? That question sent the teen's pulse racing again. The question was a catalyst for a whole slew of followup questions involving an almost endless number of permutations involving explicit acts of intimacy between grown men.
Most important of all, if they include discussion of today's events in tomorrow evening's extended appointment, will Mr. Rodmann reveal more about his personal life? If so, than that would be an opportunity not worth passing up. Peggy Sue thought about what her teacher had to say about guilt and shame. Her sense of both was now past tense where her furtive and secret observations were concerned. If anything, she felt cheated for being denied an almost nonexistent voyeur's paradise into the passions of men who commit themselves to each others' bodies in any way they can achieve maximum pleasures. For the love of life and its spirits, they both might have been naked when they achieved the most intense carnal gratifications with each other. For the loss of such enrichening dramatic entertainments, she felt entitled.

True to form, Mr. Rodmann's email message arrived seeking approval of their daughter's appointment with him the following evening. The teen's parents were impressed with the solicitous attention he seemed to have in Peggy Sue's academic progress. They readily agreed and applied their signatures to a hardcopy that their daughter would bring to the school the next day. They were generous and included a $20 bill.

That night, the teen had a strange dream that drifted in and out in lucidity and for her ability to recollect later on. It involved Mr. Rodmann, her father, a deceased uncle whom she thought of fondly for kindnesses to a litte girl, 2 or 3 older boys with whom she was only casually acquainted at school, and her mother who was shockingly derided by the males just mentioned and a host of others. She woke the next morning with the folds of her nightie above her tits and about her neck. She was not sweating with the same intensity as the dream of the previous night. But she found that her legs were spread wide open and bent at the knees. The nipples of her newly bloomed tits were rigid and sensitive. The buildup of fluids at the sumptuous places between her legs had all the heady aroma and texture of formidable feminine arousal. Those parts had the distinctive slightly aching and needy feel about them and Peggy Sue set about attending to them in digital function to satisfying peaks in shudders of warm pleasure.

When that sense of giddy fluster subsided, she noticed on her satellite clock that it was only about another 1/2 hour before the beginning of sunrise. She arose out of her bed in her nudity. It had been another too warm night for the time of the year and she would be done with her shower before her parents arose. When she walked close to the bathroom door, she noticed it was closed and over the din of the running water from the sink, she heard her father clear his throat. She was about to scoot back into her bedroom, but decided "to hell with it." Within seconds, he opened the door in just his underwear with an expression of surprise to encounter his daughter in her complete exposure. She scooted by him to open the shower curtain but then lowered the toilet seat that her father had left up to seat herself on it.

"Peggy Sue, are you alright? You look a little damp and peaked. Is it your time of the month, hon? We could call the school and tell them you won't be in today or will be arriving late."

"No Daddy, I am fine. It was just such another warm night again, I wanted to take my shower early."

The parent started to hear the piddling noise prompted by his naked daughter on the toilet and in a flash of embarrassment for being rude in not observing his daughter's privacy, he closed the bathroom door. From the other side he spoke more loudly. "I want you to go back to bed after your shower, sweetheart. Get up a little late and I will drive you to school."

"Thanks, Dad."

After her shower and she opened the bathroom to return to her bedroom, to her surprise, her father was waiting for her on the other side of the door with a sort of cunning lit up expression on his face. "Now Peggy Sue, you know how no matter what age you are or are going to be, you will always be my beautiful girl. You're a sweet kid and as far as I am concerned, you should be entitled to traipse around our small home however you like. But Mom is more old fashioned than young people today. When not in the privacy of your room or in the bathroom, she has this weird idea that you should always be wearing at least a robe. Now I so respect your mother's efforts to make a nice home for us, I ask that you honor her wishes on this point."

"I know Dad. I will. I just thought no one was up, yet." She only was holding the bath towel up to her front. In the back, she was still bare so as she stepped past him back to her bedroom, he could see how her woman like ass would move.

He called out to her again just before she reached her bedroom door. "You know, I remember we used to have a little girl who lived here. When we told her it was her bath time, she would throw off all her clothes every which way and terrorize us tearing around our house like some little devil on too much coffee. I miss that and I miss that little girl."

Peggy Sue turned around and smiled at her father. "I remember that and I remember that little girl. Sometimes I miss her too. But you and I will never forget her, will we Dad?"

"Not in a 1000 lifetimes, gorgeous. Sweet dreams for another hour or more."

Back in her room and climbing back in her bed still nude, she thought to herself, why couldn't Mom be as nice to her as Dad.


Peggy Sue shined through the next day with sort of a radiant confidence that was unusual for her, to say the least. Her carefully selected outfit included an odd item of party clothes that others noticed seemed to have the effect of her attractively blending in with the sharper dressed girls. Those girls looked and said nothing. However more than one teacher passing her would say something like "you are looking especially nice and chipper this morning, Peggy Sue."

"Thank you!"

Between classes, she would make a point of approaching boys at their lockers and asking them about the new games for their X-boxes and Wiis. She wanted to know who was making the best progress in their impromptu skate board competitions and assured them that as soon as the field hockey season was over, she would take time to watch them. This was a girl who seemed to them had joined "the eyes cast down" crowd. She had suddenly blossomed into a grinning flirt. Especially coming from one they noticed as "coming along so nice", they liked the sudden switch. More than one boy had his gender organ prompted to stir and enliven in appreciation to the new interest.

She smiled at Mr. Rodmann when she handed in her math homework. She had spent an hour longer with it than usual the night before and sincerely felt she understood. She enjoyed her class for the information imparted as well as her teacher's style of presentation. She noticed that there were moments when her pulse would race.

She was focused and motivated at field hockey practice. Never a sterling athlete, she assisted her scrimmage team with many assists on goals. Her coach was tuned into the energetic difference from the day before. "Great improvement kid. Let 's see that kind of moxie on game days." She curtailed her shower more than she would have liked to. She felt those sparks of tingle as the hot water ran over her, and she did not want other girls to see evidence of her physical feelings.


At 4:30 sharp, Mr. Rodmann was also seated next to the young teen in one of the student desk/chairs he had arranged to be next to flush with his student's. Some papers were set to one side on the smooth surface. The odor of just a hint of his cologne mixed with the warm soapy scent of his recent shower set the young woman to tingling again, especially about all her womanish places.

"Now I have checked through both your assignments of the last 2 nights, young lady. I may have underestimated your comprehension. You got a C+ and and then a B+. That makes me feel so much better about you." He smiled infectiously at his student seated in such close proximity. She immersed herself in his smile. She was so profoundly attracted to the hazel eyes that shone with wisdom, sensitivity, and just a touch of rakish mischief. His not too short curly light brown hair with blond highlights was always so appealing, no matter how "bad hair day" askew and the sweet small vulnerability of a bald spot at the top and back. His moustache with the not quite "Mexican" growth corners lent itself to a daring quality to someone who was already a jumble of masculine intrusions.

The teacher was no unfeeling lout. The look of sadness and neediness in the young teen's eyes disturbed him. "Peggy Sue, it is not appropriate for me and somewhat against policy for us to have that other talk about you and me. But I am going to take another one of those risks we spoke of yesterday and I am really going to get into it with you."

He noticed a tear forming at the corner of her eye. "Come here, sweetie. Come to my teacher's chair with me." The image of Bruce in his lap was still fresh in her mind and she sprinted to do the same. Seconds later he was rocking her in his safe warm arms, being smooched on her cheeks.

"I know so much more about kids your age than my students think I do. You should have seen me at the PTA meeting just after this year started. I let the parents have it. I told them that as teachers of kids your age we cannot give you many critical things you need to do well in school. Yes you need discipline and boundaries. But even more than younger children by a few years, you need constant physical affection. Yes, even the boys. You struggle with so many changes and are nagged by so many unending impulses, you need constant loving attention from your parents, for affirmative self-esteem and to help cope with the mixed signals and feelings of confusion. If they cannot provide it, then they are to see to it that brothers, sisters, grandparents, aunts, uncles, or close family friends are there to provide a constant stream of sugar, unrelentingly.

If they do not do their job, then people your age and a little older will seek out both lots of affection and sexual release from other sources that are inappropriate and risky. The consequences for both sexes can be devastating for the rest of their lives. If they have those needs fulfilled, at least in large order, then they can enjoy sweet dreams both day and night. Then both boys and girls can dream for the brass ring and have the confidence to reach for it.

I followed up a couple of questions. Yeah that kind of attention can increase the sexual tensions. They should make it their job that you have plenty of time and venue of privacy for you, for your satisfying release - both boys and girls. Most people there thought I was nuts. But a couple of teachers and mothers came up to me later and thanked me for exhibiting some guts there that evening."

The young almost pint sized teen in his arms hugged him even closer. "Oh Mr. Rodmann, you are so smart."

"Not so smart, my little friend. Just someone who has a mission to learn from my life - to listen to my dreams. Now, let 's talk about your feelings. Do you have any questions about Bruce and me?"

The girl in the teacher's lap straightened up in a sense of genuine curiosity. "Yes Mr. Rodmann, are you gay?"

The teacher smiled and hugged his student again before answering. "I don't think it would make a difference to you if I am, and that is nice. For tonight, please call me 'Skip.' I recently found out I am gay, but I also am str8 at the same time. I think I am more str8 than gay, because as Fabienne put it, 'I will go nuts if I don't get some pussy after a while.'"

The teen giggled and broke out in a wide grin. The tone in her voice started to take on a litany of quick gesticulations. "You mean the woman you were going to marry knows about you and Bruce? I didn't know you could be str8 and gay at the same time? That 's so cool. When did you and . . ."

Her teacher interrupted. "Whoao, whoao, there young lady. One question and one topic at a time. First, I need to tell you how much better you look with a smile on your face. Yes Fabienne was the first to know when Bruce and I became intimate. She congratulated me. She said our love will broaden my horizons. When we were together she said it was so frustrating. It was always about 'math, math, math'. Poor Fabienne! She tried to yank me out of a box and criticized herself when she thought she failed. But she succeeded in so many little ways, I just never showed her that."

"Why did you break up with her?"

"For a lot of reasons, sweetheart. I do not want to tell most of them because I was ashamed of myself for them. Remember what I said about guilt and shame. A couple of weeks after we were apart, I sent her a long email message and wrote what I was ashamed of myself for. That helped me get through it. It was very hard for me to fall out of love with her. But I did. But I still love her so much and I need her friendship. I love all my students. But in the last 2 days, I have learned I can count on your friendship. In subtle and not too obvious ways, I will need your friendship Peggy Sue, for years to come."

The teen pressed herself into her teacher's chest. "Oh Mr. Rod . . . Skip, you will have my friendship in my dreams - I hope yours too."

"But you think I am skirting around the whole issue of Bruce Sideways, don't you?"

She lifted herself up and nodded up and down with the biggest grin yet.

"Well when Fabienne and I were together during the last sort of dark days of our relationship at the beginning of the year about 2 months ago, we had a coaches meeting still sweating in the main mens PE office. Bruce and I still stayed behind to talk with the 2 scheduling people. There seemed to have been some screw up conflicts with some of the girls games, which has since been sorted out. There were only about 4 of us in the showers. Bruce was under the shower head next to me and I guess when the other 2 were not looking, he flashed me a gay cruise."

She looked up to show her teacher a puzzled expression.

"Well let me shorten the explanation by saying that when a dude is naked in a locker room setting, a cruise is when he is ogled up and down with interest by another man who is checking his ass, dick, nuts, maybe his tuft of weed, and then looked in the eye in a way that shows the naked dude that the other likes what he sees. Well Bruce did that to me, and I found myself liking it. We both waited until the 2 guys stepped from the shower, and I mean I thrust my hips around and flaunted washing my package and then the crack between my ass cheeks so that he could get a real close look. He tried to make a pass at me later when we were dressing. I whispered, 'no, maybe later.'"

Peggy Sue sat up and shook her teacher's shoulder. She had something to say. She wanted him to know that she knew more about this matter than what he thought. "Peggy Taleteller has an older gay cousin who tells her almost everything. She adores him."

She spoke with the most confident tone of conviction in her voice of the afternoon up until then. "She has shown us pictures of him. He is so cute he is dreamy. He lives in the city where there are a lot of gay men and he goes to the gym where about 1/2 the other members are gay. He told her he doesn't cruise other men so much, but loves to be looked at by them. He spends a lot of time naked in the locker room. She says when he isn't taking a long shower, he spends the maximum amount of time with other guys in the sauna, peeing into a urinal, using a sink to shave, weighing himself at the scales, or having long conversations with friends.

She told us he figured out tricks for getting looks and I guess cruises from other guys. If he thought most of the other guys assigned to nearby lockers were into other guys the way he is, after he would come back from his workout all sweaty, he would take off all his gym clothes and take out his towel and shampoo and combs, then he would pretend he was having trouble closing his locker door before he could walk to the shower room." The teen was nearly convulsing with titters and giggles.

"Get a grip girl. Don't giggle out on me now. What happened next?"

"Well, of course all the other men would look to see what the problem was. But he would pretend he needed to put some strength into shaking that door, so the other guys would get to see his muscles tweak and his dick shake and flop about. . . Hee! Hee!. . . And he would also do that thing where he would keep clenching and relaxing his ass cheeks quickly. Even though the pictures I have seen of him are always with his ass covered, that must have been a show that even all the girls would enjoy looking at. Anyway, he would get the looks he wanted.

I think you and Bruce should get guest passes to the gyms in the city and maybe get cruised hanging out naked in the locker room or maybe cruise other men."

The teacher hugged and kissed the teen in his arms, once again. "Now that shows the kind of imagination and sense of humor a girl your age should have. It should be a part of your dreams. As a suggestion to a friend which I will take up with Bruce, it is a very thoughtful and generous gesture."

Peggy Sue was starting to get impatient. "So when did you and Bruce finally start kissing and when did, you know, you start having sex?" The teen spoke over her teacher who had started to answer, but she was determined to vocalize her litany of questions to its conclusions. "And what kind of sex did you start with and when did you move on to other things?. What kinds of positions have you tried?"

Her teacher looked a little astonished at his student. "You really want to know the gammit of our sex lives, don't you? Don't you want something left for your imagination and dreams?"

"Just a little. You told me I should not be ashamed. Now I wish I had seen you with Bruce's cock in your hand and seen whatever else you 2 were going to do together, from when I was inside that closet." She pointed in the direction of the closet. Her other hand was trying to wrap its fingers around her teacher's own cock covered as it was by Dockers and whatever else.

The adult man liked the feel of the hand of the young girl that was exploring the length of his straining aroused organ, even though she was applying too much pressure. He had to collect his thoughts. "I tell you what. Maybe some evening I could get Bruce to come up here with me again and we could proceed with a repeat performance. You would be alerted in advance and safely hidden away to watch the whole show uninterrupted, this time.

"What did you plan on doing?"

"I figured this desk was just the right height. I planned on getting him on his back and raising his legs so that his ankles or calves would be on my shoulders. That way he would be doubled over and propped up just enough so that when I was standing behind the desk, it would be real easy for me to fuck him up his ass."

"Would you both have been naked?"

"That was my intention. But maybe it would be more fun for you if you watched him fuck me?"

She looked at him with wanderlust and sincerity. "Oh Skip, either way, that would be just dreamy."

"Good! Well let it sit with your dreams." He moved into whisper loudly into her ear and she allowed herself to be entranced by the hot breath as it hit her ear, cheek, and neck. "If it really happens, compare the reality with what you had dreamed about. Do you like the feel of my hard cock under my pants?"

She nodded again in the affirmative.

"You would like me to show it to you, wouldn't you?"

"Oh Skip! I am not sure, but I think I may have dreamed that one already."

"It would at least be a daydream fulfilled."

"Oh yes, please!"

"Would you want to see it just by having it pulled out, or instead from my having gotten naked?"

"Oh Skip would you do that? Yes, naked, please!"

He breathed hard on her neck before he asked her the next question. "I would never have to touch you when it happened, but would you be willing to get naked with me?"

There was a pause. "I would want us to hug if we got naked together. It would be dreamy if you would hold me that way. But I am not sure I am pretty enough for you."

The teacher suddenly pulled away and looked his young partner directly in the eye. She had stopped tugging at his masculine organ. "Don't say such a stupid thing. Of course you are pretty and sexy enough for me. I have had you on my lap for how long, now? Do you think I would have gotten hard if I didn't have a little goddess in the making on my lap? My hormones have ramped down compared to those of my students. I wouldn't get aroused by just any girl or guy."

They hugged again and lips met. She started to point her tongue and try to insert it into his mouth right away. He pulled away and placed his forefinger to her lips, encouraging her to purse them. The two sets of lips met again and just explored each other for a minute. He opened his mouth slightly and she followed his example. Tongue tips met, tasted each other, and tasted soft lips. More tongue from both explored slowly.

Suddenly the teacher pulled away. "I know a place where you can get me naked and we can have comfortable privacy if a janitor isn't hanging around. . . How about the little bed in the nurses station?"

They gathered books and his briefcase. On their way, Peggy Sue put her books in her locker. That gave her both free hands to feel about the front of her teacher's pants. But on their way, they encounterd another teacher and Peggy Sue had to straighten up and act demure.

"Staying behind to grade papers again, Pete?"

"You bet. Glad to get it done before returning home. Good evening, Peggy Sue."

"Hello Mr. Guyser."

"We were staying behind for some extra tutoring. But her recent homework shows she is getting the hang of it better than I thought."

"Glad to hear it, Skip. Goodnight"

Out of earshot, "do you think I am getting the hang of your other tutoring?"

"You are a remarkable student."

"Well, why won't you tutor me about Bruce Sideways?"

"We keep getting distracted. About a week after I knew Fabienne and I were through, we kissed in the faculty parking lot. Part of the thrill for us then was that we might get caught. A couple of times earlier in the locker room, we dried each other off with our towels and then while we were still naked I caressed his shoulders and back. There was a football coach and one of the janitors just 3 aisles away and other coaches in the main PE office. Those were the first times we saw each other get hard. Now, I think most of the faculty including the PE people know we are an item."


They had arrived at the nurse station and there were tell tale signs that the janitor had already been through. The student assumed an extraordinary confidence now. "Get on the bed so I can undress you."

"The day we kissed, we drove back to my place in his car. He had his hands all over me. Inside the little house I rent, we immediately started undressing each other. Well when we got down to boxers, his chubby cute guy was peeking out of his fly. We had both been dripping and leaking. You do know what it means when turned on boys and men leak, don't you?"

"I want to see it." She had both of his shoes and socks off and was unbuttoning his shirt.

"Well, we were naked together for the first time outside of the locker room and we just sat and lied down on each other on my sofa. We both wanted to just explore what was there for each other. We sniffed and rubbed. I don't know what I was expecting, but a man is just as soft as a woman mostly, only there is more of him. Soft body hair seems to be a bonus to the touch."

Peggy Sue had his shirt off and was pulling off his tank top style undershirt. He was about to be bare chested. She immediately plunged her hands into his dense chest hair and massaged all about. "Oh Skip, you are so soft and warm." She moved in to rub her face all about and kiss his nipples. The teacher had one of his large hands patting her hair at the back of her head.

"We kept tugging, sniffing, kissing and sucking at each others' hard cocks. Eventually we were sort of just below the belt and between the legs to each others faces. What people call 69ing. I was on top"

The teen was reminded that what had really been secret from her all her life. She unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his trouser but before unzipping, found his bulge again. It seemed longer than she expected and pleased that she could feel it throb and grow even more when she massaged it. What intrigued her most of all was the amount of warmth that emanated out of just human flesh even through the fabric that covered it. That experience more than any other triggered the warm wet heat to flow from her own sex. Her thoughts were spontaneous. "No wonder the girls like these things to pump up into their snatching pussies. Now I know why some older girls brag that they even love them ploughing into their shit holes."

The teacher had stopped talking, noticing his young partner's focus on his body. She pulled down the zipper and tugging his pant legs to pull off his trousers away from his feet was not difficult. The outline of his 8 inch bulging cock was visible and little wet spots were apparent near the band of his boxers. She was attracted to hairy strong thighs, but that was not going to be her focus right then. With her right hand, she slipped it through his fly to cop a feel of smooth almost searing velvet flesh, noting the little rises of pulsing veins, all for the first time in her life.

The last garment had to come off. She could see the bouncing twitches and flinches of excitement of the most enticing small animal she had ever encountered. She tugged at the band and pulled down the one remaining covering. The musk of it hit her nostrils instantly. She wanted to sniff more. She bit her lower lip as to try and curtail overwhelming desire. It was odd but deliciously protruding warm flesh. It was all nestled in a dense but very disheveled growth of what instinct told her must be the softest fuzzy most fragrant long hairs for personal enjoyments. She surrendered to her impulses and dropped her head into the mess of masculine corpus. She sniffed, kissed, licked, lightly sucked, and gently fondled in slow exploration all she beheld there. From the salty sauce at the end of his cock dow