Date: Sun, 29 Apr 2012 15:47:19 -0400
From: Blonde Mountaineer <blondeallover@hotmail.com>
Subject: Dreams Without Guilt or Shame - part 1

		  Dreams Without Guilt or Shame  - part 1
		       by blondeallover@hotmail.com

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story was written as a submission of the writers'
competition (CAW6) at XNXX.com/stories.  It is a fictional telling of a
sexual awakening by a young teen.  Among the criteria of the submissions
are thematic associations of unrequited love 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.  All the
usual disclaimers apply as well as explict detail involvinga pubescent
adolescent.

"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 jackknifing 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.  to be continued
. . . .