This story is fiction. Actually, the year being 2063 should have been enough to clue you in about that.
I don't care how old are. I don't care how young you are. However, the law does care, so if you are too young, go away (or at least try not to get caught).
If this story is against the law where you live, then like the young folk, go away. Or at least...
10:01 A.M.
Friday, November 9, 2063
“Coach,” Anika Nakamachi asked, “Is it true that you
used to play pro ball? My dad says he
got your autograph once. Or was that
some other Harold Michaels?”
All eyes turned to me.
This question got asked from time to time. Coming from Anika (a lovely sixteen year old
virgin of Japanese-Nigerian ancestry) it wasn’t so bad.
“Yes, for six years I played z-golo, most of it with
the Comets. I retired four years ago,
and started teaching Sex Ed three years ago.”
The girls were all ears. I was sure that most of them never followed
z-golo, or any of the other sports played in zero-G. Well, maybe weightless gymnastics, and I
remembered Lisa saying that she followed veegeewushu [variable-gravity martial
arts]. Still, the sudden revelation that
Coach had been a pro athlete was exciting to them. The next question was inevitable, and I just
waited to see who would ask it. It
turned out to be Wendi Jones.
“Were you any good?”
“Twice nominated for MVP,” I told them, “most
recoveries in a single season, 2056.
There’s talk of inducting me into the Z-Golo Hall of Fame next year, but
I’m not going to bet any large sums of money on that.”
Time for the next inevitable question.
“So how,” Caitlyn wanted to know, “does a potential
Hall of Famer go from the Comets to teaching Sex Ed in the north of
“I’d pulled my right shoulder out three times,” I
said, “and the docs told me they might not be able to fix it up as well the
next time. You may have noticed that
when I have to pick up something heavy, I always use my left hand, even though
I’m right-handed. When it started
messing me up in the game, I knew it was time to quit. I didn’t want to play if I had to hold back
all the time.”
“Besides,” I added, “Sex Ed was my major at
college. It was my intended career, but
a scout saw me when I went to orbit for a vacation.”
Saffron and Lisa wanted me to bring video of some of
my old games. The other girls groaned at
the suggestion, then looked apologetically at me.
“Tell you what,” I said, “any of you join the school’s
z-golo team, I’ll bring in several hours of highlights from my career and
announce that I am now your z-golo coach.”
This brought general laughter because, of course,
“Now if each of you will look in your basket,” I said,
continuing on with the class, “you will find goggles and a camera. I was able to get these, for today only, from
the multimedia lab. Last year’s class
had to take turns using a single cam, and the image was projected on the big
screen. This equipment will allow you to
examine yourselves at a more leisurely pace, and without showing the whole
class at once.”
There was considerable relief at that; they’d known
that the vaginal self-exam was today, and more than one girl had been nervous
at the idea of her crotch being displayed to the whole room, like Tina’s and
Louise’s had been. The camera and
goggles were stereo, and high resolution.
I had tested them, and it was like an out-of-body experience. It wasn’t like looking into a mirror; it was
as if I were looking at somebody who looked just like me. For the girls, it was going to be like
suddenly finding yourself playing amateur gynecologist to your long-lost twin.
“However,” I continued, “I do need a volunteer to
model for the class, yep, big screen and all, before the self-exams can
begin.” There was some hesitation, and
then both Rita and Amethyst raised their hands.
I smiled. “Amethyst,
I know you’ve got pretty parts, I got a good look while you were being painted
Halloween. But you were one of the
models the last time, along with Linda, Tina, and Louise. So I’m going to ask you to sit this one
out. Rita, if you would step up here
please.”
Rita did. I asked her to lie down, adjusted her
position a bit, and then asked her to bend her knees and spread her legs. I placed the little cam I have for class, the
same one I had used that day with Tina and Louise, and soon had Rita’s crotch
displayed on the one-metre (3’ 3”) screen for the class. I leaned and put my face less than a half
metre (20”) away from the sixteen-year-old’s pussy. She seemed to be OK with this, so I started
the lecture.
“Notice that, while Rita has much in common with
Amethyst, Linda, and even Louise, she is also different in some ways. The vagina,” I continued, “is almost like a
fingerprint: each is different in some ways, but each is the same in overall
conformation.”
The girls nodded, they knew this already. Well, we had been looking at pictures and
watching video all year that made this obvious.
I knew that some of them had examined themselves already, at home, and
two or three had even taken pictures to compare with each other. There seemed little chance that any of these
girls thought of their vaginea as looking unusual, which was a common fear in
the days when it was thought somehow improper to let young girls look at pics
of what they themselves had. Still, it
was good to remind them just before they started examining themselves.
I took two fingers and spread Rita’s vagina open. There was a small gasp from her, and some softer
ones from a few of her classmates. Up to
now, I had not actually touched any of the girls’ sexual parts, except for last
Tuesday, when I had briefly run my fingers over Amethyst’s nipples, and of
course when dancing with the girls Halloween, there had been a lot of bare skin
pressed against mine. But actually
touching the vagina was new.
With my face still between Rita’s thighs, I
continued. “While examining yourselves,
note not just how your vagina is different from Rita’s or the others you have
seen, but how they are similar. Note not
only how they are similar, but also how they are different. I want you to open yourself up, get a really
good look. Don’t be afraid to touch what
you see. In fact, this is a good idea,
as it lets your brain correlate tactile and visual information. That is, it lets your brain compare what you
*see* to what you *feel*.”
I spread the girl open a little wider, and started
touching, just barely, each part as I mentioned it.
“You will note the vaginal cavity,” touch, “the
urethra,” touch, “and the clitoris,” touch.
I kept my finger on her clit as I continued, “Now, some of you will have
a smaller clitoris than Rita, and some of you will have one that is
larger. It may stay behind the hood, or
it may peek out. This is just the normal
variation in human beings.”
I let go, repositioned my fingers, and spread her
again, wider this time.
“You will note that Rita’s hymen is gone, but that is
because Rita is sexually active. Some of
you will have a hymen, and some of you will not. In fact, some of you who are virgins may find
that your hymen has left for parts unknown.
It is also possible that some of you who are sexually active will find
that it has decided to stay, though that is rare. Rare,” I hastened to add, “but not
abnormal. And if you *do* have your
hymen, be gentle with it. There is no
reason to tear it in class. This can
cause pain and bleeding. Then again,
don’t think that you can’t tear it yourself at home, or that you have to treat
is like an already-cracked eggshell.
Just be careful, and be sober. Or
keep it until sexual intercourse or some other event finally tears it. And you absolutely do not have to save it for
me!” There was some laughter at
this. “Well, I know, but there are
always some girls who think that if they enter this class a virgin, they have
to protect that like
I attached a slim probe to the cam, spread some lube
on it, and slipped it into Rita’s vaginal cavity. This drew another gasp from the girl. Of course, they had all, including Rita, had
probes like this inside them before, but only when visiting the
gynecologist. Perhaps a couple of them
had gotten a hold of probes and played around with them, but never in front of
an audience. Even kinky young Rita
hadn’t done that.
I now found myself glancing back and forth from the
sixteen-year-old’s pussy, wrapped tight around the probe less than fifty
centimetres (20”) in front of me, to the giant projection of the same organ’s
insides. The whole class was staring at
this, and several of them were starting to breath heavy.
“Of course, we’ve seen these structures before,” I
told them, “in pictures and video, but I wanted to show you again with Rita,
and I want you to search for these same structures inside yourselves. Ah,” I stopped the probe, “here is the bit of
spongy tissue commonly called the G spot,” I highlighted it, “and here is the
cervix,” another highlight. “Each of you
has a probe like this in your basket. Now,
I know that some of you will be used to inserting objects into the vagina, but
those of you who are not, just relax.
I’ll help get you started.”
I withdrew the probe, thanked Rita, and sent her back
to her patch of padded floor. I had the
girls turn on their cams and put on their goggles. They looked a bit weird, buck naked except
for those goggles, legs splayed open wide, pointing cameras at their
crotches. A little weird, but a lot
wonderful.
“Don’t use the probe yet,” I told them, as I moved
over to Wendi, “Get a good look at the exterior first.”
Wendi Jones, a fourteen-year-old from
“Here, Wendi,” I suggested as I knelt beside her,
“just use these two fingers, here,” I helped get her fingers extended just
right, “then you can lay them here, yes, and just prop yourself wide open. Oh, how nice!”
I moved on to Mary, then Lisa. Lisa was obviously embarrassed by all this,
but she also was interested in what she saw.
“Coach, look at this,” she whispered as I came near.
“With pleasure,” I answered, bringing a grin to her
face. I put my face right between her
thighs and took a good look. I didn’t
see anything unusual; it looked like a fourteen-year-old’s virgin pussy, which
is what it was.
“Check out the lips!
Look how much darker they are than the rest of my skin! These” she gave them a tug, “must be as dark
as Veronica’s!”
“I don’t know,” I moved them about a little to get a
better look, “I’ll have to let you know after I get a look at Veronica. Anyway, it’s not unusual for the labia to be
darker than the general skin tone.”
“OK,” she shrugged, “But check this out.” Moving her hands out of the way, she set her
pussy to twitching. “I thought a girl
couldn’t do that until she’d had sex.
Oh!” she spread herself open again, “and look at my hymen! I thought it would’ve been destroyed by all
the gymnastics I did when I was a kid.”
“Yet here it is,” I mused, touching it and drawing a
nervous giggle from the young girl.
“Well,” I advised, “just be careful when you use the probe.”
Linda was next, then Violette, then Saffron, then
Anika (whose lips were darker than Lisa’s).
Next was Turio, who was disappointed to find her clit did not come out
from under the hood.
“I could swear it comes out at home,” she assured me,
“It sure feels like it does. I’ve never
actually looked at myself though; you think it might be hiding? I mean, I *am* kinda nervous.”
“It’s possible,” I admitted, “Happens to both sexes. More than one guy has been ready to go, only
to find that one part of him is not, and sometimes that is because of nervousness.”
She turned the camera towards my groin. “I guess you’re not nervous, Coach!”
I chuckled and gave my cock a few strokes. Turio grinned big, and I knew that her eyes
were sparkling behind those goggles.
“When do I get to do that, Coach?”
“January,” I informed her. “Now, about this clit and hood issue; sometimes
it just doesn’t come out, and that isn’t always a bad thing. A clitoris isn’t like a penis; it doesn’t
have to get that big, it doesn’t have to stick out all that much. I mean, it works just fine, right?”
“Well, yeah, I guess,” she allowed, “I mean, I cum and
everything.”
“It sounds to me like there’s no problem. In fact, sometimes a clitoris is just too
sensitive to touch and rub directly, and having that hood as a “soft shield”
can make all the diff. Of course,” I
added, “sometimes an exposed clitoris takes direct, even borderline rough
treatment just fine. It depends on the
woman. It may also come out after
extended teasing. I guess we’ll see next
month.”
A quick word with Gloria, and it was time to talk to
Mimosa.
“God, Coach,” she complained, “this just ain’t right.”
“It looks OK to me,” I told her, leaning in for a good
look. “What’s wrong?”
“These *lips!*” she cried, then blushed, lowering her
voice to tell me, “They’re huge!”
“They look fine to me.” I then took hold of them myself. I heard her take a sharp intake of air, but I
continued to look, turning them over, even tugging gently. “Yes, these are well within the normal
range.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, and she sounded
worried. “I know I have this freaky
vagina…”
I chuckled.
“Mimosa, you hardly have a ‘freaky vagina.’ In fact, it looks like your standard, sixteen
year old vagina.” I looked a bit
more. Her hymen was still intact, and unlike
with Turio, the clitoris was extended from behind its hood. I wondered…
“Mimosa, is your clitoris really sensitive?”
She turned her head to look up at me, and then
couldn’t see me because of the goggles.
“Yes, it is,” she mumbled, then turned her head from
me. “In fact, I can’t even get myself
off most of the time; it just hurts too much.
I mean, there is a good feeling, but there’s also pain. That’s what I mean by ‘freaky vagina.’ Are you sure everything looks normal?”
“Yes, it’s normal,” I assured her, “you just have an
exposed, sensitive clitoris. Here…” she
shrank back, “…I’m not going to rub it, just point. Right here,” I pointed, almost but not quite
touching it, “you see, it’s come out to play.
The hood isn’t covering it any more.”
“Oh, God,” she sniffed, “it looks like a little dick!”
“Well, Mimosa, it *is* a little dick, sort of. You remember when we studied fetal
development? If you’d been a male fetus,
this is what would’ve grown into the penis.
These,” I touched her labia again, “would have fused together to become
the scrotum. Which means they’d have to
be a lot bigger than this!”
That got a giggle out of her. “OK, I guess my *brain’s* a little
oversensitive when it comes to my cunny.
But what can I do about the pain?”
“Well, how do you usually go about it? Do you stroke or rub it directly?”
“Yeah,” she confirmed, “I rub in little circles
and… God! I can’t believe I’m telling you this!”
“That’s what this class is for. And now I know the solution to your
problem. Just don’t directly touch your
clit. And don’t let your lover touch
it.”
“Lover, hmph!”
“Well, for future reference, then,” I suggested, “but
in the meantime, you might try this.
I’ll need to touch. I might even
rub a little, but if it hurts, let me know and I’ll stop.”
She nodded, so I gently pinched the labia together,
over her clit, and slowly rubbed, applying very little pressure. She gasped, then smiled.
“*That’s* all I had to do?! Just make a new hood out of these big
lips?” She tried it herself, and applied
more pressure. She smiled bigger than
ever. “Wow! This was worth the price of admission!”
“Knowledge is power,” I grinned, and gave her a small
kiss on the knee before moving on to Caitlyn.
Amy was next, and asked if I thought she was pretty “down there.” I assured her that yes, I thought she was
pretty down there, up here, and all around.
Veronica was next.
“Hey Coach,” she asked, “What was up with you and
Lisa? I heard her say my name, and I
think you did, too.”
“Lisa just wondered if her labia are as dark as
yours,” I informed her.
Veronica chuckled.
“Well, I don’t normally swing that way, but if she wants, I’d let her
come over and take a good look for herself.”
“She will,” I remarked, “next week. So will the other girls.” That set her back a bit, but I quickly added,
“For now, why not give *me* that good look?”
“Sure thing, Coach,” she agreed, pulling herself
open. She shaved herself, but hadn’t
before. She’d apparently started over
the past weekend.
“Well, these are darker than Lisa’s, but only a little
bit.” I poked about a bit with my
finger. I made a couple of brief
comments before concluding, “All in all, a very nice vagina.”
“You must love this job!” the fifteen-year-old
laughed, “Looking at naked teenaged girls every day, getting to touch us and
stare us right in the crotch. Yeah, you
must love this job.”
“Hey,” I laughed right back at her, “you don’t think I
took this job for the money, do you?”
The whole class laughed at that, as neither of us had
bothered to keep our voices down.
Witashnah was next, then Amethyst. Witashnah made some joke about trying to grow
another clit, since the first one was so much fun. Amethyst, naturally, wanted to ask questions,
most of which were excuses to get me to touch her. She even asked me to taste her! “Soon, Amethyst, soon,” I assured her.
Only Rita was left, and I asked her if she needed
assistance inserting the probe.
“Nah, I’ve used one of these before,” she informed
me. I didn’t doubt it.
I helped a few of the girls insert their probes, but
mostly I just stood at the front of the classroom and mentioned structures,
asking them to check out the same inside themselves. Mimosa wanted me to put the goggles on and
check for damage. There was a story with
that girl, and I was starting to think that she needed to tell it to me.
I finally assigned today’s quiz, and it was a short one, a simple True/False quiz.
* * *