"Well, I have to admit. The Program helped, but it was mostly Ed," I smiled.
"Good for Ed," she laughed. "You really do look nice," she managed.
"Thanks," I grinned.
She watched the rest of the movie with us. I actually enjoyed it.
Afterwards, she went to work. So, we were alone in the apartment. Did we take advantage of it? What do you think?
The funny thing was-the only article of clothing that Ed took off me was my panties. He fucked my brains out with my tank top and bra still on, and my skirt bunched up around my waist. He really liked that outfit!
So, that’s the story of Ed’s and my week in The Program. Looking back on it, it almost seemed like a month rather than a week, so much had happened. For both of us. It was quite a week-one I don’t think either of us will ever forget.
We gathered at the entrance to school on Monday morning clothed. Though, I must say, what I was wearing was closer to naked than my old straightjacket outfits! Will I ever pull a Jared and Amanda and go nude for the hell of it? I might. Ed and I have talked about that. We both found it liberating at times. But we also appreciate the ‘hint’ of a sexy outfit. Both ways are fun.
And a good friend of ours was about to find out the fun of nudity. As Ed and I and his gang gathered outside the school Monday morning, we heard, over the loudspeaker, "Frankie Gutierrez, please report to Mr. Tilling’s office."
Yup, it was Frankie’s turn!
FRANKIE AND CASSIE NAKED IN SCHOOL
PART ONE MONDAY
I suppose it was inevitable, huh? I mean, it looked like they were going through the baseball team one-by-one. First Mike and Lily, then Ed-and now me. March/April seemed to be Baseball Player’s Month in The Program. You’d think they’d let us ballplayers do this at a time when we didn’t have to go out on to the field naked. Ah, well. Not that that would have done me any good, anyway-I play soccer during the fall.
I’m Frankie Gutierrez. Francisco Roberto Gutierrez DeJesus, if you want to get all technical (and Spanish) about it. I’m of Mexican heritage-though I was born here; right in Westport, as a matter of fact-my parents came from Mexico when they were teenagers. My grandparents-both sets-were poor folk who came here hoping for a better life for their children. My parents didn’t let them down. Mom’s a schoolteacher, and Dad’s a computer programmer. We’re not rich-Dad says that if he wanted to be rich, he wouldn’t have had five kids-but we don’t want for anything, not by a long shot. All of my Grandparents are still alive, and all take great pride in my parent’s-and aunts’ and uncles’-accomplishments. Family’s a big thing to Mexicans.
And there’s enough family in my house! I turn 17 in a couple weeks, and there was a hiccup after me-Mom had two miscarriages-but then the floodgates opened. Rosa is 12, Maria is 10, Gabriella is 7, and Ricardo is 5. After Ricardo, Mom said "finito!" Being the oldest of five in a Mexican family is a bit of a responsibility. I’ve done a lot of babysitting. I’m also supposed to lead by example. I think I do OK. I’m a good student. As I said, I play baseball and soccer-a pretty mean feat considering you wouldn’t peg me as an athlete if you saw me walking down the hall. I really do love my brother and sisters. I have good friends and don’t get into trouble.
I wondered how Mom and Dad would react to me being in The Program. We’ve discussed it at home-not a big surprise considering so many of my friends have been through it. Mom and Dad are still a bit Old School. They grew up Catholic. Now, with the changes in society, the Catholic Church some time ago stopped prattling about the evils of premarital sex and birth control and all that. I guess they were sick of empty pews. But my parents grew up with that, and it’s sometimes hard for them to shake. They do try, though. When they got the info on The Program, and the form to fill out to opt me out of it, they told me it was my decision. I can talk to them about this kind of stuff, though Mom gets faintly scandalized. It’s become kind of a joke-especially between me and my oldest sister, Rosa. Rosa started developing a few years ago, and started getting interested in that kind of thing. She hasn’t done anything yet, of course, but she asks me questions, which I try to answer. We’ve always been close, despite the 5-year age difference. When she came along, I really wanted that elusive sibling, so I’ve doted on her her whole life. So, we talk, and she knows what sex is. And our big joke is that, whenever the topic comes up, Mom tries her best but always lets a "Madre de Dios!" escape her lips. When Rosa has a question she wants to ask, she’ll come up to my room and say, "Hey, Frankie, I’ve got a question about ‘Madre de Dios!’" It’s funny.
Anyhow, so now it was my turn. How did I feel about it? Mixed, to tell you the truth. I’m nobody’s sex god, let me tell you. I’m about 5’7", and not exactly muscular. To be honest, I’m scrawny. I’d probably be the type that people picked on, if I didn’t have some athletic accomplishments. Luckily, fast-which I am-is better for soccer than big and bulky is. It’s also better for playing center field. As for pitching-well, I get by. One thing I do have is nice, long, supple fingers. Mom jokes that I should’ve been a piano player. Instead, I put those fingers to use throwing a baseball. With my body, I don’t throw hard. Hell, I have a girl teammate that throws 20 mph harder than I do! If I didn’t like Lily a lot, I’d be jealous. But what my fingers do enable me to do is throw a ball that whistles "God Save The Queen" in seven languages on the way to the plate. Whatever gets the job done.
So, yeah, parading my scrawny body around Westport High in the nude wasn’t my first choice of activities. But, you know, I really didn’t have anything against it. I had seen so many friends go through it, and they all came out of it changed-and for the better. Of course, most of them also came out of it with Significant Others. I wasn’t counting on that. I’m not Mister Suave with the girls. I’m everybody’s buddy. I’ve had a few girlfriends-I’m not a virgin-but they always seemed to be short-lived. One ex-girlfriend told me I was "too easygoing." I still don’t know what that meant! I’ve come to think it’s code for "too scrawny." Hey, if girls really do think I’m too easygoing, I don’t know what to do about that. When you’re the oldest of five, you’d better be easygoing.
Anyhow, I walked into Mr. Tilling’s office that Monday morning, and found him behind his desk.
"So, are we just checking off the names of the baseball team one by one, or what?" I joked.
He chuckled. "Come on in, Frankie. No, I’m not. You were selected for The Program this week, yes, but for a reason."
"OK, fill me in," I said.
"When your partner gets here."
"And who might that be?" I asked.
"Cassandra Vyshenko."
Ah, Cassie. Cassie and I had been friends forever. She moved to Westport the summer before fifth grade-moved in four houses down from me, as a matter of fact. We’d been friends since then. We weren’t best friends-we ran with very different crowds, and I didn’t like much of hers. I did like her, though. I often wondered how she ended up hanging with the status-is-everything catty-gossip crowd. Her two best friends, Missy Jenkins and Laura Elliot, I couldn’t stand. And, for a while last school year and into the beginning of this one, she dated Nick Chase, who was the prototypical full-of-himself asshole football player. So, I didn’t run with Cassie much. But I did like her-she was a lot different from her friends, which is why I often wondered why they were her friends-and Rosa was best friends with her sister, Tanya.
I knew, however, that they preferred not to pair up friends in The Program. I was about to ask Mr. Tilling about that, when Cassie walked in.