Rent a Naked College Girl
by luv2custrip

College girls go nude in public to raise money.

My mom was nervous--I think she was even more nervous than me--even though I was the one who would shortly be dropping my robe, out on the stage, and be totally stark naked in public.

My name is Kat. And yes: it's short for Katherine. I'm a 21-year-old college senior. I am not an exhibitionist... but I was minutes away from leaving this makeshift "undressing room," getting naked in front of at least fifty people, turning and posing, then retreating stage right, having to remain completely nude.

I would eventually be in a line with four other naked female college seniors, waiting to find out which of the fifty paying guests had bid the most to rent us nude for the next two to four hours.

So if I wasn't an exhibitionist, why was I doing it? I thought that it was about time to give sweet little Kat a not-so-sweet little push. If I could do this, I reasoned, then I could do anything.

Mom asked me if I wanted any rouge or even lipstick on my nipples. Did I want a little bit of powder "anywhere else."

"Mom," I said. "My nipples are already hard as rocks under this robe. Once I get out there, all bare in the open air..." I shook my head. "Sorry Mom, but I can't think of any part of my body that I'd like powdered."

She looked away. I knew she was thinking that she brought her makeup kit for nothing. She flew all the way out here, a long trip from the Midwest all the way to Vermont, just to be with me.

I didn't need her makeup. I loved her and I needed her support right now.

I put my hand on her arm and she turned to me. "Was it like this, twenty-four years ago, when you went nude for the Event?"

That brought a big, wistful smile to her face. "Just about the same. And yes: we all put lipstick on our nipples--we even powdered our bottoms! We thought we were absolutely wild, the craziest girls on the planet. I don't know if any of us were literally high, but for me, being nude in public and then being led around town that way by a reasonably handsome guy... that made me high."

Wow. I do love my mom so much. I got up and I hugged her tight. I wish they gave us more room back here--with nothing for furnishings but a metal chair and a table. Neatly piled on the table were all of the clothes I wore here: sneakers, shorts, a t-shirt and plain white panties. I didn't wear a bra because we're all told that the marks from bra straps can be unsightly once we're nude. Can't have that.

"Mom, I--"

And then we heard them announcing girl number one: Gloree, a really hot young lady with a father from Africa and a mother from some South Seas island. I would describe her skin as light olive brown, and her slight but curvy body as the type that men would like to cover with olive oil... or any kind of oil.

So Gloree was number one... she was sure to wow the crowd with that bod and get the highest bids. I fingered the lacy white collar around my neck with an onyx pendant inscribed "3" dangling from it. The collars are to identify each nude girl as leased property--our leaseholders will be given a wristband with the same color and number.

Once upon a time, the collars were attached to leashes, and the naked girls were required to be led through town that way. Well, collars and leashes and full female nudity imply certain connotations that the Senior Trip Committee really didn't want to promote. The leashes are gone, but the collars remain.

I hear the mayor's voice now as he's briefly interviewing naked Gloree. They're all soft questions about her major and about her plans for the future, and about how she feels renting herself out with no clothes on.

We can't really hear her answers, but there's a lot of applause. The audience loves her.

Girl number two--right next to our makeshift booth--is called out. Sandi is a sweet little brunette, a tiny thing. She is so adorable and cuddly cute that, if I was into girls, I would gladly take her to warm up my bed.

My mom and I look at each other. I'm next. I thought I was ready for this--like the other girls here today, I've been running around our dorm naked, even bravely daring to stroll around nude in the sunlight on the quad. But that was in front of other girls... this is in front of an mixed audience, outdoors, who will be looking my totally bared body over from every angle before making their bids.

How did this all start? Back in 1978, the photography studio in town went nude. And by that I don't mean they started doing sexy boudoir shots for wives and girlfriends. They completely changed their business model by opening their doors to any would-be photographer who could pay the hourly fee. Everyone was given an easy-to-use camera--and their choice of available nude models for an hour.

Needless to say, demand soon outstripped the supply--there were very few professional models in the area who were willing to get naked for horny amateur photographers. So the studio put out flyers on Twin Mount College's bulletin board, asking for young ladies who were at least eighteen, and not too shy, who wanted to earn some extra money.

The response from the all-girl college's student body about showing off all of their student bodies went surprisingly well. The girls did insist on certain rules, such as the right to refuse poses that were much too gross, and the surety that they were safe from harm.

Why was the response from those sweet young college girls to display their sweet young bodies so good? First, our college is very liberal-minded; they require all girls to take art classes that include life drawing, and all students must pose nude for that class at least one hour per semester.

Second is the fact that a lot of the girls were saving up some or even all of their naked paychecks to help pay for their Senior Trip.

Senior Trip was a big thing in town--so big that it always has to be capitalized. The senior class traditionally went somewhere in Europe, nearly always the second week in May. The location was always selected because of its connections to art, literature and/or history--the subjects that the College concentrated on.

The girls started raising money for this increasingly expensive trip when they were juniors. Looking back, I find it surprising that no one had thought about raising money by taking their clothes off--until then.

School girls posing naked for money was bad enough. The nude photo studio's moneymaking scheme did raise more than a few eyebrows, and talk that 'something' had to be done. Then, some not-so-bright, would-be photographer took his nude model outside and onto the Village Green. The lure of the sunshine, the trees, the green grass, the winding paths--and especially the round, bricked-in artificial pond with the fountain in the middle--was irresistible. More nudes followed.

Naturally, someone complained, and the matter was taken up before the town council. It should have been an open and shut case of nudity not being allowed in public--but the poor town council found themselves up against the dreaded Senior Trip Committee.

The Committee was not just composed of young college girls who could be easily intimidated. Oh no. There were powerful women in town who had graduated from Twin Mount, ten, twenty--even fifty years ago. These women were then--and now--business owners and real estate power brokers.

Our town has--and had--rules requiring open public meetings. The records are there, with the Committee reminding the council of the thousands of dollars poured into the town coffers simply from the presence of the all-girls school. The Senior Trip itself results in loads of money spent--all in town--on everything from travel arrangements to new clothes and accessories for the girls to look special on their special trip.

Open meeting rules aside--some talks must have gone on behind the scenes. The council then issued this now legendary declaration:

"Declared: that although the Council recognizes the economic impact of, not only the presence of Twin Mount College for Girls, but especially from the monies spent on their very special Senior Trip, we cannot condone nor allow our girls appearing unclothed in public for the purpose of nude photography.

However, the Council also recognizes the uniqueness and the impact of this type of fundraising effort. Therefore, we authorize, for only one day per year, a very special in-town fundraising Event. During this Event, select representatives of the Senior class may: disrobe partially or completely in public, and/or may appear partially or completely disrobed in public. However, lewd and/or lascivious behaviour, by persons clothed or unclothed, shall not be tolerated.

The Senior Trip Committee shall consult with the Council as to the timing of this Event. Weekend days in months during the school calendar year that are known to have usually dry, warm weather are preferred.

Off-duty police will close roads and set out signage indicating that this is a private Event. We want our girls who participate to feel as safe and as comfortable as possible. All rules and regulations as regard to indecent exposure shall not be enforced, only during the day of this special Event.

Resolved: this 29th day of April, 1979."

I believe that this is the only official, governmental proclamation ever issued authorizing college girls to get naked.

There was banging--or the equivalent of banging--on the tarp to our left. Gloree's mom poked her head in. "Are you decent? Decent or not, it's time to get indecent! You're next, sweetheart--go out there and knock them dead!"

As we followed her out, I was whispering: "Gloree's mom is hot, you're hot, and some of the other moms--"

Mom hissed: "This is your 'rent a naked college mom' idea?! That is SO not happening!"

Gloree's mom--I think she was Pat--led us to the curtain at the edge of the stage. (How could a woman this exotic-looking be named 'Pat?')

"Okay," Pat said. "As soon as you hear the mayor introducing you, go out there and drop your robe. You can be facing in any direction at first, but once you hear your music start, turn around and start dancing. Let them see this beautiful girl from all angles."

Then she gave me a quick hug and told my mom she'd see her soon. All of the moms, sisters or older female friends who showed up to support their nude seniors were also enlisted as volunteers.

"Just think about it, Mom. It would be a great way to earn some extra money for the Trip."

She shook her head. We were both so nervous at this point, we both knew I was trying to distract her.

"I will think--" she started and then our horny mayor's voice boomed through his mic:

"And now... let's all put our hands together for our next bold and beautiful senior girl. I present to you--for the first time in public without her clothes--Kat!!"

Mom hugged me so tight and I knew she was crying--she could not get any words out.

"Love you Mom," I said. "You're still so beautiful... you can still go naked too."

And then I stepped through the curtain wearing nothing but my robe, into the sunlight.

This was the moment that my informal support group warned me about: when you first step out, about to get naked, but are temporarily overwhelmed by the sea of staring faces.

'Turn around--don't focus on faces yet. Drop your robe and get yourself together while they concentrate on your naked ass.' That was an older woman--about my mother's age--giving me her sage advice over coffee one morning in town.

Announce that you're going nude next Event, and suddenly all these veterans of being naked on stage want to contact you. I welcomed all of their shared wisdom, from how to deal with your first time stripping and dancing naked for a crowd, to tips and tricks for getting around the silliest Committee rules once you were strolling bare-assed around town with your holder.

I don't really remember it being a big deal over losing my robe--the last thing that would be allowed to cover my body for hours. I had no problem showing off my ass. I am exactly 32.5 on top, but 34 on the bottom... and I love that extra 1.5 inches!

I put my hands on that bare butt--one on each cheek. In a practiced move, I turned my head to look at the crowd over my left shoulder. My hands were kneading my ass--was I about to open things up back there?

I quickly turned around, throwing the crowd off by displaying my full frontal nudity for the very first time. I was getting a lot of good-natured laughter and bouts of applause, and I was starting to enjoy the attention.

I had to keep thinking: all girls have the same stuff in front--boobs, bellies, and slit-split bushes. But guys--and some girls--just couldn't get enough of seeing just one more girl in the nude.

I was kind of dancing, but more like strutting my stuff--thrusting out boobs, butt and even bush. My hands were on my hips, and I was swaying back and forth, opening my legs wider and wider with each thrust of bush as I knew my chance to display the goods for my hopefully eager bidders was almost up.

Then I saw him. My professor, my mentor, my senior thesis advisor. He was in the back row of the fifty seats reserved for those who had bought tickets--and he was smiling at me as he was looking me over.

Thank goodness the music was stopping soon!

The singer was wryly observing: "Anything that feels this good--it must be illegal." Technically though, public nudity was not illegal in the State of Vermont. However, our town, in its infinite wisdom, declared public nudity a misdemeanor after a few isolated incidents of public urination in the scandalous 1950's. Had to protect "our girls" from the sight of penises. One generation later, five college girls per year volunteered to run around in public with their vulvas on display. How times change!

My minute was up, and the grinning mayor was getting up close for my naked interview. I had to catch my breath. My professor now knew what I looked like naked, and he would never be able to look at me the same way again.

"So, Kat: how are you doing today? Fabulous dance by the way."

"Fine, fine." I sounded breathless to myself.

"What is your major, sweet girl?"

"English Lit, with a concentration on 20th Century poetry."

"Well. You seem to be as bright as you are beautiful. But how do you feel about showing off absolutely all of your beauty for us today?"

For some reason, I made direct eye contact with Professor Herbert as I answered.

"It's a very different feeling for me; it's embarrassing and exciting, all at the same time. But, it's a beautiful day; I just hope everyone's enjoying the scenery."

The Professor smiled an even bigger smile, and nodded as I received more good-natured laughter and generous applause.

The mayor thanked me, and, after thoroughly checking out my breasts, belly and bush, directed me stage right to stand third in line with the other two nude girls.

Gloree nodded at me; that nod said: 'Good job!" Sandi did more than nod. Sandi grabbed me and hugged me, while bouncing up and down. Did I mention that we were both naked? Our breasts, bellies and bushes were merrily bouncing against each other in public.

How many people were staring at us? There was the mayor, along with four members of the town council. There were the five members of the Senior Trip Committee: three current seniors, and two alumni. There were at least two off-duty cops who were very carefully watching over the proceedings. Then of course we had the fifty paying guests, the only ones who would be allowed to bid for our naked company.

So I had just stripped and danced quite naked outdoors in front of sixty-two people... and there were more to come.

Next amateur stripper was Debbie, a cute beyond cute little blonde. With her obvious bikini tan lines. and her continuously red face, she just looked so totally naked during her dance routine. The crowd was eating her up.

Last but not least was Stana. Stana and Sandi were both in a lot of my classes, and I thought I knew them pretty well. They were absolutely the last two girls I would have predicted to volunteer to go nude for the Event. But they probably thought the same of me.

Stana came out in a really short plaid robe that really showed off her long, skinny legs. When she turned around nude, the crowd was thrilled to see that she had kept her eyeglasses on. Stana had long brown hair that she kept twirling around the nipples of her A cups. Yes; here was a girl who had decided to embrace the image of a naughty, naked schoolgirl... and she was doing great!

Once Stana joined our naked line, the mayor stepped up and asked for a big round of applause. We actually got a semi standing ovation--and all we had to do was take our clothes off!

Now was the time for the fifty paying guests--each had coughed up $100 for the privilege--to bid on their naked date. Each picked their number one choice, and the amount per hour they would pay to spend time walking around town with her in the nude. They all had to pick their number two choice as well--the worst thing that could happen would've been some poor girl not getting any bids. and dejectedly having to walk away and put her clothes back on.

The bidding process used to be all on paper, but now there's a one-time app that our guests download, an app that only works on Event day, and that has to be connected to the password-protected Event WiFi.

As I said before, guests can bid for two to four hours of a nude senior's time--the guest who bids the highest per hour wins. The Committee actually recommends a two-hour time period; in their humble collective opinion, there isn't that much for a naked girl to do in town that would take four hours. And... there's of course the concern that too much time on one's hands might tend to be filled with some "lewd and lascivious behavior."

The mayor kept checking in with the Senior Trip Committee. He finally declared that the time limit was up and the votes had been tabulated. Sandi started to try to hug me again, she was "so excited;" I did my best to turn away from her without being obvious. She ended up bouncing her stuff against my back and my bare ass.

The mayor took Gloree's hand and led her to center stage. "And... the winner and holder of Miss Gloree is... Professor William Herbert!"

Oh my god, I thought, then--wait a minute--he bid on her?! I didn't know if I was more jealous than relieved.

He had to come up on stage to claim his prize--I mean his date. As he climbed the concrete stairs, I swear that he almost tripped, as he couldn't take his eyes off me. Well... I was standing there with three other equally naked girls. Maybe he was looking them over too.

The mayor had Gloree and the professor move over to center stage left to make room for the other winners and their nude dates.

Then bouncy little Sandi was claimed--by a couple! The Event veterans warned me about couples. They told me that, alrhough everyone who bid may have their own fantasies about what might happen later, couples were only into kink.

The guy was older, maybe in his fifties with graying hair. The woman looked younger--a flashy, voluptuous, very fake-looking blonde.

Sandi though, was still so excited and still bouncing up and down as she hugged them both. I wished I could warn her. I suddenly felt so protective for this sweetly naked little brunette. I had to shake my head.

Then my holder was called up, and I almost missed his name, as I was so worried about Sandi. Mark Davis was tall and thin with glasses and brown hair. I really did not look at him too closely as I walked over and he put his left hand on the small of my back.

I was getting more agitated than embarrassed. I felt that making us stand there for so long, naked in front of a happily leering audience was unnecessary. This Event shouldn't be about gawking at naked college girls; it should be about honoring young women who were going WAY out of their comfort zones for a good cause. And I really really wanted to start on my naked date, and try to have some good clean fun--with my clothes off.

Another surprise as blond Debbie's holder was named. She was a very well-dressed older woman, maybe in her fifties, with long shiny grey hair. Debbie looked shocked. I didn't know Debbie well, but I assumed having an older lady as her holder was not her naked dream.

Finally Stana was claimed by a very rugged, good looking guy. He looked to be in his thirties and had the build of a linebacker. Stana kept staring at him... lucky girl! She appeared to be in some kind of sexual daze.

There was one more round of applause aa our holders took our hands and we all raised our arms high. At last, our imposed nudity on a public stage was over.

Mark didn't know what to do next. "What do we--" he started, and then my mom came out. My mom, by the way, has a figure that is a slightly larger version of mine. She is still so hot.

I saw Mark's face light up as she introduced herself. "It is so nice to meet you, Ms. Carlson; you and your beautiful daughter." My mom melted, then he turned his smile to me. And I melted like the Wicked Witch in the movie. Oh my god: big, beautiful blue eyes--and how did I dismiss him as thin? He had a slim, athletic build that was visible under his form-fitting black sweater and his grey cashmere sport coat.

"Isn't she cute?" my mother said. "With her hair short like that, she looks like Lois Lane."

Older people make comments like that. I wanted to ask her which Lois Lane, from what movie or TV show? But with Mom, it was best to move on.

Now my mom was looking at me in her way. Mark was looking at me in his way. I was twenty-one, and my mom hadn't seen me naked in like twelve years. Mark had never seen me naked before, and this was going to be his all-time initial memory of me. I was suddenly blushing... not like me at all!

Mom saw how uncomfortable I was. "Let's get you off this stage, and I'll get you two ready for your date." Leave it to mom. I wanted to hug her, but certainly not with my clothes off on a public stage.

We trudged down the concrete steps, me in my bare feet--not comfortable! Mom noticed. "Mark," she said, "it's up to the girl's holder, whether or not she goes barefoot. We did bring flip-flops and high heels."

"Uhhh..." Mr. Mark at last had an excuse to break eye contact with me and pretend to be studying my feet. I'm sure he was checking out my legs, and everything in-between my legs.

"What do you prefer, Kat?" He looked up at me. That smile again. I tried to collect myself.

"The uhhh... the heels aren't too bad. They're comfortable..."

"And they match her collar!" my mom exclaimed. "I'll go fetch," and then she bounded up the stairs.

Now, for the first time, I was alone with the man who had just bid to date me nude. Talk about really feeling naked...

I was not allowed to hide; not allowed to cover myself or even close or cross my legs. Whenever they depict a naked woman in a mainstream movie, it's all breasts and bush. Well. Real women are a lot more complicated. We have prominent mounds, mounds that are split by pink folds. I had grown my pubic hair out, thinking that was a way to cover that pink. Standing there in front of Mark, I realized that all of that hair only made my mound look even bigger. And all of that thick black hair down there only emphasized the pink.

But that's what the Event is all about: the excitement and the privilege of having a pretty naked college girl as your very special date. Your eyes should always be on her, and she should always be exposing ALL of her feminine beauty.

"Kat, huh; short for Katherine?" Mark was graciously trying to fill our awkward silence.

"Yup: Katherine Julia Carlson on my birth certificate."

"Marcus Donnelly Davis on mine." That smile again, eyes twinkling.

"Marcus? Really??"

Mom came bounding down the stairs. It was impossible to ignore her. Just add a few inches to each of my physical dimensions--and add dyed blonde hair--and you get my mom. She had on a much too tight tee, as well as much too short shorts. She did have great legs, and I'm sure Mark--Marcus--noticed.

Mom had my heels in one hand and Mark's matching wristband in the other. "Do you want your heels on first, sweetie?"

"Let's do the wristband first. I want to get this started, so lets make it official."

"You want this official? Lets do this." She dropped my heels on the steps and placed the wristband around Mark's left hand. Then she took Mark's right hand in one hand, my left hand in the other.

She stared at Mark.

"You are the holder, watch over my daughter--

She is naked, so keep her from harm."

Then she let go of my hand and gave Mark a big, tight hug. When she finally pulled away, she had to turn her head and wipe her eyes.

Wow. You wouldn't think of my mom as a traditionalist, what with her long, muscular legs hanging out of her shorts, and her 36Cs stuffed into her tight tee--but she tended to surprise.

I liked the traditional verbiage. It reminded all participants that this Event was not just an excuse to leer at naked girls--it was more of a coming of age ceremony, or a naked coming out party.

"I will take her of her, Mrs. Carlson, I promise!" Mark gushed.

"Jeanette," Mom cooed, "call me Jeanette."

Okay. It was time to regain Mark's attention from those 36Cs and those legs. "Mark," I said, "now that you're my holder, you should only have eyes for me. Every part of me is now available for your gaze. Starting now." Then I plopped my ass down on the fourth concrete stair, grabbed my high heels, and spread my legs wide.

Mark was shocked at first, then I saw him visibly relax. No more attempting to maintain constant eye contact, while all he wanted to do was take in my naked body. I had just given him my express permission to do just that.

With my legs spread, things open up pretty nicely. Mark had a view of all of me--at least from my elongated hoodie down to my teardrop-shaped frontal hole. While his attention was downstairs, I looked around to see if I had any other admirers. Sure enough, my professor was about twenty feet away, his arm around Gloree's bare waist, chatting it up with the members of the Trip Committee. But his eyes kept glancing my way.

I had to shake my head--he had his arm around the most gorgeously exotic girl in our college--naked--but he kept looking at me. Then why bid on her, Professor?

I suddenly remembered why my legs were spread--I was supposed to be putting my high heels on. Now Mark's eyes were greedily looking me over, from my now high-heeled feet, all the way up to my smiling face. He was positively glowing; I was guessing that he liked what he saw.

I held out my hands and he helped me up. Did I say he was smiling and glowing before? Now he was beaming like a little boy on the best Christmas morning ever--although Mark's very special present was already unwrapped.

"Time for you two cuties to get going," Mom said. "It's almost one o'clock, and I've been informed that Mr. Davis has you rented until three."

I was grateful that our date would only be two hours. I did have some little surprises planned, tricks for getting around the rules and having some good old naughty fun. I had a really good feeling about Mark; it was going to be a great day.

Mom had one more thing to say: "He is so cute--don't you think he looks like somebody?"

"Mom..."

"Well," Mark stepped in. "When I went to college in the City, I lived in New Jersey for a while. And some people there said that I looked like a young Bruce--"

"Billy Joel!" Mom interrupted.

"Billy Joel??" Mark and I both exclaimed in perfect unison. We looked at each and tried so hard not to laugh. He was good--I'm sure it's in the etiquette manuals somewhere--try not to laugh at the mother of a naked girl whom you just met.

"A young Bllly Joel," there was no stopping her. "Don't you see it in the hair, in the eyes?"

"Mom: Billy Joel never wore glasses."

"But if he did..."

Do you see now why it was best to just move on?

I hugged my mom goodbye for now, ignoring my naked state. She was getting teary-eyed again as she patted my back.

"You two have fun. But not too much fun." And then she actually winked at us. Older people!

As we walked away, Mark reached out and took my hand. That was so sweet, and I so loved the feeling of holding hands with him.

My mom later told me that, as we walked away, "those cute round buttcheeks of yours were twitching with every step." Yes. Thats why I always exercise, and occasionally diet: so that my mom can compliment me on my cute round buttcheeks twitching as I'm walking away from her naked.

For a while there, as we cut through the Village Green, we were laughing and talking like a perfectly normal couple on their first date. I mean, Mark was obviously enjoying the view, looking down upon my nakedness from his lofty height of probably 6' 3"--but there was no overt discussion regarding my exposed condition.

That was about to change. I'd like to say I had some tricks up my sleeve, but of course I didn't have any sleeves on. No, but it was my job to get this man totally invested in my totally nude body. Otherwise, what was all my angst that I went through the past few months for, wondering if I could go through with all of this?

The Event veterans who gave me advice were split on using one's female sexuality to get properly noticed. My mom was notably reluctant to talk about what happened during and after her own naked date. After-Event sex happened--of course it did. All my mom ever said was "This is the first and probably the last time you'll ever do anything like this; do what it takes to make yourself happy."

So. We were sharing our origin stories. Mark had grown up in upstate New York, had gone to college in the City, but then left college rather abruptly for a unique opportunity. He had "almost accidentally" developed his own method of internet research, and ended up designing a completely new type of search engine. A company in northern Virginia eventually bought him out. He moved there, working for them at first, then opened up his own internet consulting business.

He was twenty-nine, and he told me--rather reluctantly--that he had made his first million at the age of twenty-three. He didn't blush as he said that--he looked away. That was the tell that he was uncomfortable.

I asked him how he happened to be in Twin Mount on the day of the Event. He told me he'd been at a conference in upstate New York. It was going to be a beautiful weekend, so he extended his car rental and drove into Vermont. Like most people, he had found our normally sleepy little town quite by accident.

"What... what would you like to do?" he asked, a bit nervously.

"What time is it?" We weren't allowed to wear watches or carry cellphones. We were only allowed two pieces of minimal jewelry. I had a sparkly gold chain around my neck--barely visible under my collar--and my grandmother's ring on my left hand.

"1:15," Mark said.

"Already?" I grabbed his arm and leaned in to him. "I'm starving, and there's this great Italian restaurant not too far away. I like to think of it as my--" I stopped.

"What were you gonna say?"

"I can't!"

"Say it, young lady!" He was suddenly bold.

"My Italian restaurant!"

Mark groaned.

As we walked in, our eyes had to adjust from the bright sunlight to what at first seemed like total darkness. I heard someone say "Oh! Oh! It is already starting!" A little old Italian man had been sitting on a stool on a raised area way back in the corner. I remembered that this stage featured music on Friday and Saturday nights.

The man had been reading a newspaper. He dropped it to the floor as soon as he saw me. I was afraid he was going to fall, but he nearly jumped off that stage with surprising agility.

He came up and pumped Mark's hand. He appeared unsure as to what to do with me. He leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"I knew today was the Event, but no one comes in! Oh! You are so beautiful lady, I will make everything special for you."

Mark asked for a booth, the man nodded and brought a chair over. Mark looked confused. "What is the chair for?"

I intervened. "It's for me. He's following the rules: when we're naked, we're not allowed to hide any part of our bodies behind or under a table."

I sat down and spread my legs, knees about eighteen inches apart. The man was happily grinning as he took in the view. Mark was nonplussed.

"Do you have to sit like that?"

"Yes I do. It's the rules; otherwise, why go naked?"

Mark wasn't done. "But, do you have to face the door? People will be walking in, and--"

And the door opened, and a couple walked in. Both maybe mid-thirties, she was a tall blonde and very thin, he had brown hair and a brown mustache and a brown beard and appeared shorter than her--maybe it was her spiky heels. And I was their instant center of attention.

"A happy couple enters the restaurant," I began. "They just wanna stare between my legs."

Mark continued: "The restaurant owner looks up from his newspaper..."

We smiled at each other, which broke the tension. I loved that we were both trying to show off how smart and funny we were. You only do that when you really like someone and you so want them to like you back.

Ernesto, the owner, wisely put them at the farthest corner table from us, and opened the curtains on a somewhat grungy window. Both of them, the guy especially, nearly tripped over the table legs as they sat down since they couldn't take their eyes off of me.

Ernesto brought over the menus. I had been in here maybe seven or eight times over my four years--but that was with my parents, and when I had clothes on. Ernesto would be hard-pressed to remember me as that always well-dressed, prim and pretty young lady.

The couple in the corner were talking earnestly, and constantly glancing over at me. Finally, the skinny blonde stood up. She grabbed her husband's cellphone. "Alright," she said. "I'll do it. Do you think that's appropriate?" She headed in our direction.

"Okay," I said quietly. "Here comes the first request for pictures."

"What?! Pictures?!" Mark was sputtering. Didn't he read the Event rules manual? I know it was sent by email now...

"Oh: I'm so sorry to bother you but--we're visiting friends and we thought this whole nude Event thing couldn't possibly be real, and then we heard that we're allowed to take pictures..." That all came out without her taking a breath. She was desperately trying to only look into my eyes, and not at my body.

"You have to ask my holder." I tilted my head in Mark's direction.

"Is this allowed??" He was still sputtering. Guy was gonna hafta lighten up.

I nodded. "They can take a few pictures, as long as my face isn't included. But requests like these for pics or poses are always up to you."

He glared at the woman, then leaned back to glare at the husband, who was pretending to be studying the menu. Coward, I thought; sending his wife over to take his nude souvenir pics.

"Only three pictures," said Mark, in a much calmer voice. "And we get to look at them when you're done."

The blonde nodded and swallowed. She was clearly uncomfortable with her assignment of taking a picture of my naked body that her hubbie would undoubtedly be perusing sometime later. Her first pic was of nearly all of me, straight on between my legs, then she surprised me by taking her last two photos at slightly different side angles.

She wordlessly handed over the cellphone. Mark looked at the pictures and grunted before giving me the phone. Yes, the first picture was the money shot: full frontal from my collared neck down to my open knees. The last two photos were actually creative, with two slightly different views of my body from the side that emphasized my breasts and showed just a tuft of furry black pubic hair.

I handed her the phone back. "Thank you, thank you," she got out before she practically ran back to her table. We saw her nearly throw the phone at her husband, then she turned away from him and stared out the window.

"Well," I said. "That was..."

"Intense," Mark filled in.

Was he ready to play? I had had such high hopes for him, but his reaction to the photo request... I could put it down to jealousy-- jealousy was fine. That at the very least meant that he was developing some feelings for me.

I was in this Event to push prim and proper Kat way out of her comfort zone. I wasn't looking for a lover, and I certainly didn't want a one-night stand. But... if these feelings continued to develop...

Still, I had at least ninety minutes left of being nude in public, representing the college, with everything that went along with that. Nude Event girls had responsibilities to their eager, viewing public.

Ernesto brought out a chicken parm sandwich for Mark, and spaghetti and meatballs--with extra sauce--for me. Spaghetti was not my favorite, but I did have plans for the sauce.

We kept up the first date talk. I thought it was going well, but now I was getting nervous. What I was about to do could totally turn Mr. Mark off--and ruin any chance of any further, personal developments.

I was almost done with my spaghetti--it was now or never.

I dipped several long strands in the sauce at the bottom of the bowl. I had to keep leaning over the table awkwardly anyway, which made what I did fairly realistic. I dropped at least three long strands on my body. "Oops!" I said. I looked down. Success! I got globs of sauce just to the left of my right nipple, on my tummy, and on my pubic hair--just above and to the right of my hoodie.

Mark's first reaction was good--really good He reached out and plucked the spaghetti off my naked body--obviously without thinking about what he was touching.

"Oh!" he said. "I shouldn't have... I'm not supposed to touch you--"

"On areas that would normally by covered by the teeniest bikini" I quoted. "Well no: you touched me in between my breasts--that would be exposed... if I was wearing a teeny bikini."

Mark sat back, relieved, thinking it was over. Then he noticed the sauce. He handed me his cloth napkin.

I held up my hands. "I can't use that. I'm not allowed to have those body parts covered, however briefly, by any type of cloth or material."

Mark was still holding out the napkin, frozen in place. "You have got to be kidding."

I shook my head. "Rules are rules--especially when I'm being observed by my public." I inclined my head toward the not-so-happy couple in the corner.

Mark sat back. "So--how do we get around these rules? Or are you supposed to walk around with spaghetti sauce all over you?"

Excellent question! I leaned forward. "There's nothing in the rules about a holder licking off any type of spillage from his date's body."

I never really knew what it meant to be looked at 'in askance' before. That was how Mark was looking at me.

Then I saw him take a deep breath. He looked all the way around the restaurant. I held my breath: he had made his decision.

"Stand up. We're going to turn your chair around."

"Oh. That's not allowed; I'm not supposed to hide from my public."

Mark pointed to his left, my right. "You'll still have your public." I followed his gaze. The owner and the cook were standing at the end of a long hallway that led to the kitchen on the right, restrooms on the left. There were staring at me and talking; probably discussing the merits of my various physical attributes.

"Oh," I said. I stood up and let Mark turn my chair completely around. The two men's eyes got wide as they saw that they would be getting an even better view of me. I plopped my ass down quickly. I paused for a second, then I somewhat reluctantly opened my legs for my new audience.

They didn't have that 'Hello Kitty!' view for long, as Mark knelt between my knees, blocking the bushy scenery.

He was going for it! I couldn't hold my breath forever, so I decided to stare back at my two watchers. That didn't deter them at all--until the owner frantically informed the cook that something was burning on the stove.

It had been my morning coffee friend who had suggested this "tip or trick. Hey," she said, "you're supposed to create an intimate relationship with your holder? How are supposed to do that--keep asking him over and over again to please look at your pussy?? You might as well make a date with your gynecologist! All of your girly bits are hanging out there--why not use them?!"

I was using them now--or they were about to be used. Mark got so close, I could see the top of his head. I had to resist an impulse to kiss him. He licked the sauce off next to my nipple... then he went for the nipple! He gave my right nipple the tiniest of love bites, then swirled his tongue around it.

Did I say my nipples were hard before? Both nipples responded to his attention; my tits had never felt so swollen and so hard.

Then he went for my tummy. He nibbled all around my navel as he cleaned me up, and I had to suppress an impulse to giggle like a little girl.

Finally, he licked up the sauce on my bush. I thought he was done, then I heard him mutter:

"Well, as long as I'm down here..."

Mark gently pushed my thighs apart as he dove in. He wet his lips and then kissed and licked me all the way from the sensitive flesh above my vag to the top of my hoodie. Oh my god; pretty soon I was gonna have to use that napkin, just in a different area.

Mark stood up, silently. I stood up. He moved my chair back to its original direction. The couple in the corner were both staring with their mouths open.

We both sat down. Mark licked his lips.

"Did you like the taste?" I asked.

He considered. "Mostly sweet, but tangy too. A lot like you."

I blushed.

Mark waved his credit card at the owner.

"Oh no no no," Ernesto said. "The first girl in a year comes in oh so naked, oh so pretty, I do not charge."

After a brief, mild back and forth argument, Mark relented. On the way out, he surprised me by strolling over to the corner table.

"Oh: I'm so sorry to bother you, but," Mark was deliberately mimicking her. "But you might want to check your hubbie's phone before he hides everything. He made a show out of putting the phone in his pocket, but it's actually been against his thigh, pointing in our direction.

Have a nice lunch!"

Out on the street, I hugged him. "That was great! I can't believe you! You're my hero!"

"Oh, weren't nothin' ma'am." He did his best Western movie accent and turned away.

"Don't turn away from me." I reached up--it was a long reach--and took his face in my hands. I gave him no choice--he leaned down and kissed me.

"Where is our next adventure?"

"Oh! There's an upscale lingerie shop; everyone goes there, especially Event girls. It's--" I stopped.

"What?"

I took his arm and tried to recover. "It's just across the street, and around the corner."

On our way, we saw only a handful of people out shopping. Most looked our way; some smiled and waved, others gawked.

Then we saw little blonde Debbie--or rather her bare ass--entering the shop from about a block away. Her older female holder had her hand on that ass.

"That's the shop." I pointed. "I'm guessing a few of the Event girls will already be there."

Mark finally caught the name of the place. He groaned, which was becoming a habit. He was still a gentleman and graciously held the door for me as we entered 'Uptown Girl.'

"it's just a coincidence," I said.

"There are no coincidences," he responded in some kind of European accent.

"Carl Jung?"

"No, I was trying to do Carl Reiner from 'Ocean's Eleven.'

I burst out laughing. The few clothed ladies who were shopping, and who hadn't yet noticed yet another naked lady in the store, turned around and stared. Some were glaring.

"Not everyone's a fan?" Mark asked.

"No. A lot of women think the Event is sexist. Some female business owners refuse to open up their shops on Event day. Then there are the religious folks who believe that we're promoting sinful lust."

Mark smiled. "I am, at the very least, in lust with you already. And I don't care if that's a sin."

I hugged him again and then led him back toward the adult lingerie section, where I knew the Event girls and their holders would be gathering.

Sure enough, little Debbie was back there. She was modeling a see-through baby doll negligee--with nothing on underneath. Then I saw him: my professor had Gloree wearing nothing but a red shelf bra that brazenly lifted up her breasts and emphasized her hard, bare nipples. Of course my professor saw me. Of course he was looking me over.

Mark was oblivious to all of the sexy modeling as he kept looking for something. "I have something in mind for you. Why don't you stay here--there are two other holders, so you'll be safe. I need to check up front."

"Mark!" I hissed. "Please don't leave me--"

He disappeared behind the sexy panty aisle.

"--alone!"

I looked around, frantically. Naturally, everything happened at once. Debbie's holder stepped behind her and peeled off her baby doll. She kissed Debbie on each bare shoulder and that little blonde seemed to melt. The older woman gently took Debbie's little hand in hers and led her away.

Then Gloree was suddenly whispering in Professor Herbert's ear. She was blushing. He smiled and whispered something back. She turned and walked away--but not before he patted her on her ass. She giggled.

Now the professor and I were alone.

He glanced around, then walked up to me. I instinctively backed up, but I had nowhere to go: crotchless panties behind me, and nipple-baring bras in front. I was trapped in a veritable sea of naughty lingerie.

"My god! Let me look at you. I never thought that I would see you this way. I had fantasies of course, but this reality is beyond my wildest dreams."

He put his hand on my right shoulder and indicated with a movement of his fingers that he wanted me to turn around. I meekly complied. He was a holder, and my own holder had abandoned me.

"Oh my god, what an ass! When you came out on stage and dropped your robe, and put your hands down there, I nearly lost it. Those cheeks look firm, but soft. Let me see." And then he reached down and cupped one cheek in each hand. I swallowed hard.

He put his hand on my shoulder again and I turned back around. "Everything I see: breasts, belly, legs--and especially the contrast between your creamy thighs and that dark thicket of hair--everything is simply wonderful."

I had just had my naked body evaluated by my professor, my mentor.

And he wasn't done. "Why didn't I bid for you? I really wasn't expecting you! Always such a good girl in class--what a thrill to finally see absolutely all of you, dancing naked on a public stage. No more need to mentally undress you!

But no: I knew it would be awkward--just as awkward as this is now. My god: you haven't even said a word to me! I've been bidding on nude Event girls for the past ten years. Well--we missed two years due to the pandemic. But, I've been successful at bidding--and winning--the best-looking senior, seven out of eight years. And... they nearly always end up in my bed."

I looked away. I was so uncomfortable. "I thought--I thought you were married!"

"I am." He stepped closer to me. He put a hand under each breast and lifted them up. "My god: are your nipples always this hard?" He released my tits and stepped back. "My wife, due to health reasons I won't go into, is unable to have sex with me in the traditional way. But she does understand my needs. She doesn't expect me to go through life, never making love to a woman again."

"Katherine. Look at me." I did, reluctantly. "My wife knows I have needs, and that I often indulge in one night stands. But she so prefers that I find one special girl per year. A girl who will not only fulfill my physical needs, but will also challenge me intellectually as well as emotionally."

He put his arms around me, running his hands, his fingertips, up and down my back, from my shoulder blades to the top curves of my buttocks. I was standing ramrod staight, arms at my sides. I wasn't actively resisting him, but I was NOT hugging him back.

"I want you to be that special girl. Oh, I know it's ridiculously late in the school year, and you'll be graduating in three weeks, but I believe we can make it work. I will be there for you if you're there for me. And no matter what you choose: to continue your education, or to jumpstart your career, I will be there to help. I have resources and contacts all over the country."

He suddenly let me go and I thought it was over. Then he put his right hand between my legs. His palm was pressing into my upper slit; his middle finger was probing my entrance.

"Uh... uh..." I was incapable of speech.

He withdrew his hand and sniffed it. "Very much aroused. And I could feel how hard your love button is, even through all that hair. Is it because you like being naked in front of men? Or is it because you're finally naked with a man who knows how to handle--"

He broke off and stepped away. "Well, Katherine, it really was quite a pleasure running into you. I will so be looking forward to seeing you on Thursday." Then he gave a mock salute to an open-mouthed Mark, who had just reappeared. As the professor walked away, naked Gloree joined him. He whispered something into her ear. She giggled as they departed and he put his hand on her ass.

"Was he bothering you?" Mark asked. He held out a plastic package. "I bought you something!"

I went up to him, and he naively thought I wanted a hug. Instead, I balled my hands into firsts and pounded his chest.

"Never!"

"Leave me!!"

"Alone!!!"

And then I surprised both of us by bursting into tears. I reluctantly collapsed into his arms. He kept patting my back. "it's okay. It's okay. Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"

I finally got a hold of myself. I pulled back and tried to wipe away my tears with the back of my hand.

Mark pulled out one of those cellophane wrappers of travel tissues. "My mother always said to carry these." I took them from him, wordlessly. "I'll have to tell her--they really came in handy when I hurt a beautiful girl, and I made her cry."

I blew my nose. "You think I'm beautiful? You're just... dazzled by my nakedness." I tried to smile.

"Let's test that theory... I'd like to see you later, with your clothes on."

"Really?"

He nodded. "I have your cellphone number, and I told you where I'm staying..."

I swallowed. "You are so good. I would like you to see me with my clothes on... briefly."

He smiled. "I like a girl who keeps her clothes on... briefly."

We hugged and he took my hand. He led me toward the front of the store--but ducked down their bra-fitting aisle.

The shop was well known for being able to fit any sized female into the perfect bra. As Mark led me back, we went from upper 20s As to upper 40s triple letters. Then he indicated a metal chair against the wall.

I sat down and began to open my legs.

"No need for that," Mark said. "I'm not an artist, but I could draw you down there from memory."

I bit my lip as the tears amost started again. This was a good man. He never meant to hurt me--and he bought me a present!

I opened up the bag and pulled out a pair of long, white stockings. "Garters?" I asked.

"Don't need 'em," Mark said. "They stay up on their own." He took off my heels, unstrapping them expertly. I showed him how to roll up the stockings, and how to slowly unroll them over my legs.

"I hate to cover up these gorgeous legs. So I'm gonna kiss every inch as I do so." And he did. He kissed me from the toes on my right foot, up to the inside of my right thigh. Then he did the same to the left, unrolling the stockings as he went.

"You're wonderful," I gushed.

"Stand up. Take a look at yourself in the mirror. You're the one who's wonderful."

Mark led me to the nearest mirror. I took a deep breath. First of all, his choice of stockings was perfect. The elasticized white stocking tops were a perfect match to my collar. But... who was this nude vision? Who was this with her hard pink nipples, her soft round belly, and her hairy mound split with a flash of of even hotter pink?

This was a centerfold, a fantasy girl; someone's wet dream. This couldn't be me, I kept thinking. This couldn't be me.

* * * * * * * * *

We cut back through the Village Green. Mark kept looking at his watch. "It's after three!"

"Mark. No one's keeping track; they aren't going to charge you overtime."

We stopped at the edge of the Event area. Most of the metal poles and frames and tarps and curtains had been pulled down. The concrete stage looked strangely empty.

The fifty or sixty chairs were still there, but the only people seated were small groups of women. I spotted my mom talking with Pat and a younger lady I didn't know.

"I think I will make my exit here."

"Are you sure you don't want to... interact with my mom again? She likes you," I teased.

"You deserve some time alone with her. And you deserve to get dressed without me hanging around."

I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him. I felt his hardness press against me. "Are you sure you're gonna last until later?"

"I'm holding out for you."

Then, after nearly two and half hours of naked togetherness, he turned and walked away.

Why was I blinking back tears again? This wouldn't do--my mom picked up on stuff like that. I straightened my shoulders, I thrust out my breasts, and I walked tall--or 5' 5 1/2" tall--into the rows of chairs.

Pat noticed me first and nudged my mom. Mom jumped up and wrapped her arms around me. Pat waited, then gave me a peck on the cheek. The other lady--very pretty and slightly overweight--gave me a shy wave. The two ladies left us with what little privacy we could have, sitting out here in the open.

"Look at you! Are those stockings a present from Mark? Tell me all about your date! Don't leave anything out!"

Ri--ight. Of course I edited out the parts that included Mark going downtown on me at the restaurant, and everything about my uncomfortable encounter with the Professor.

I looked around for my clothes. Mom handed me a tote bag. I pulled everything out and into a pile on my lap. I was strangely reluctant to get dressed. Yes, I had had quite enough of being stared at, and all of the other things that I went through being nude. There was something though, about the free feeling of the sun and the air on my body. I had grown to like that feeling.

I looked over at mom and she was grinning That usually meant that she had something to tell me.

I sighed. I pulled my little white panties out of the pile and began to slip them on over my heels. "So. Mom. Tell me what you're dying to tell me."

"We're doing it: 'rent a naked college mom.' It's on for tonight."

My panties stopped at mid-thigh. "You're... what?!"

"Pat, Debra, and I. Oh! Debra is Stana's older sister. She's a mom to a two-year-old, but she's technically not a college mom. Still, she's so pretty and plump and men do like the plus-size models. You know what men say: bigger boobs and bigger butts means more woman to love. And she's only twenty-eight which lowers our average age considerably."

Mom was so stoked--or so nervous--she was babbling. "And... where are you... stripping?"

She put her hand on my arm. "Your favorite restaurant! We must've just missed you! Ernesto said he would be so happy to host and he already has a stage. We've got fourteen guys--all guys--paying fifty dollars, and half goes to Ernesto, half to the Senior Trip. Whoever bids the most to get our clothes off gets to have a free dinner with us nude. The other guys get a discounted dinner and they get to stay and enjoy the view if they want."

Her hand began stroking my arm. She lowered her voice. "We're already talking about next year. We want to make it a bit spicier--have a mother/daughter strip. Guys would bid to have the daughter undress her mom; the mom undress her daughter. Once they're both nude, maybe they'd kiss and..."

I pulled my t-shirt over my breasts. I was not believing what I was hearing. "Mom? We are SO not doing that!"

"Sweetie," she said. "This whole Event: it's all a fantasy. All of the girls have their own reasons for taking their clothes off: it's empowering, it's a challenge, it's a sexual thrill. But it's all a fantasy in the end--someone else's fantasy of getting yet another girl naked."

I leaned back. I was finally dressed and it felt so strange. I thought the stockings would look weird under my powder-blue shorts, but they actually looked good. No matter what I wore for Mark tonight, I would still have these stockings on. I wanted them to be the last thing he took off me.

"Oh Mom. As long as you're okay with all this naked craziness. I mean--thank goodness Dad doesn't know anything about the Event!"

"Oh sweetie!" Mom got her serious face on and stared at the ground. "I'm sorry if I mislead you--it wasn't intentional."

Now my hand was on HER arm. "Mom? Tell me!"

She looked directly at me. "Your father knows all about the Event--because that's how I met him!"