Employment Sucks & So Do I Pt. 03

On the way home from work that day, Mom seemed to sense something was up and kept asking me what I did today. "I did computer stuff like you want me to. I rerouted routers, doubled the school's ping, and did something to firewalls. It was all really technical and impressive," I blurted out as I tried my best not to accidentally reveal that one of her teachers now knows what my naked tits look like.

"Jenny, why does all of that sound like you are making it up? And you are talking really fast like you do when I caught you masturbating someplace where you shouldn't have been," she said to me, accusatory.

"If you are accusing me of masturbating in the janitor's closet in the science building just because it smells like ammonia, which I'm told is what cum smells like, I wasn't!" Mom luckily dropped the subject, as she normally does when I mention cum, but banned me from all of the janitor's closets.

That evening, after ordering some ammonia-based cleaning supplies... for reasons, I reflected on my situation at the high school. I now had a semi-fake high school senior boyfriend and another high school senior that I accidentally hooked up with, thinking he was a teacher. Shit, was I cheating on my boyfriend? Wait, he isn't actually my boyfriend, well, kind of. Damn it, this is all so confusing. I wish I actually had friends my age I could talk to and find out how they handled having multiple relationships with barely legal boys at the school they worked at and whose moms were the principal of. But no, I had to forgo friendships over the past two dozen years to focus on trashy TV, a healthy amount of online porn, and other ways to stay the cultured individual I am.

After an evening of cultural enrichment, followed by a morning where I tried to get out of work by lying to Mom about how I updated all the computers at school to be self-fixing, I started yet another day of being an IT person thing. I was sitting in my office, asking an AI chatbot ways it could do my job without my mom noticing, when the football coach barged in.

"The god damn internet in my office isn't working again. Do you know how frustrating it is to be watching a guy deadlifting 1000 lbs only to have the video freeze halfway through his lift? Because I do and I hate it. Fix it now!" He didn't appreciate my suggestion that he try and actually spend his day teaching rather than watching videos and shortly after I was following him back to his office while he ranted about missing the old days of VHS tapes, which never stopped halfway through a man attempting to lift a cow's weight in iron plates.

While he yelled at his computer monitor in this office, I, as I had done last time, followed his Ethernet cord to try and find a break again. What the heck would cause the cord to break anyway? It's not like they are water pipes that could burst, right? Actually, maybe they were. I was sometimes amazed at my ability to convince myself of almost anything with the bare minimum amount of evidence to back it up. But it didn't matter, because I found the break in the wire!

"More internet trouble?" A young man's voice said behind me. I knew that voice and realized I was in the same place I was when I fixed the internet last time. The boy's locker room. I let out a big sigh, as I'm sure I had once again walked in on a group of 18-year-olds in their underwear, meaning I would have to strip down to my underwear as well, as logic would dictate.

"Dang it guys. I'm sorry, I once again HUGE TEEN COCKS!" I yelled out. As I turned to face them, I realized I was wrong to assume they would be in their underwear. No, they were all very naked and making no attempts to cover their manhoods.

"Why are you all naked?" I demanded to know as my eyes darted between the ten penises. I was glad I had confirmed all these guys were 18 last time I was here, otherwise, me being a 41-year-old woman standing in a locker room with these young men would be weird.

"It's a locker room, miss," one of the guys with what I would estimate to be a 6-inch dick said.

"But you are all naked at the same time... just casually hanging out with your dicks out. Is that something teen guys do?" Damn, that one guy's cock really has a pronounced head.

"Of course. Do women not?" A 5-incher replied. Back when I was in high school, I thought they did. But my fellow female classmates did not and accused me of being weird and creepy when I talked to them bottomless in the girls' restrooms. The underwear I wore back then was really tight and I liked to take a break from wearing them in the school restrooms. What was the big deal?

"Well, whatever the case, now I've gone and embarrassed myself and you all once again by haphazardly walking in on you," I complained. The guys all looked at me anxiously, almost as if they knew what I was going to say next. "The only way for me to make up for this mistake is to get naked myself, I guess."

All ten guys couldn't help but smile hearing that. "Oh no... You don't have to do that. But if you must..." a three-incher said in a tone that didn't sound like he truly meant it.

"Thanks for saying that, but I think I do. It would be inappropriate for me not to at this point," I said as I took off my shirt, throwing it onto a bench nearby.

As I pulled down my pants, I could see all of them were staring at my body. I was tempted to lecture these boys on how their gazes could dehumanize a woman such that they would only see me as a pair of tits and ass and not a true person. The guy with the 5-inch cock standing off to the side in particular seemed like he needed to hear this based on how lustfully he was looking at my crotch. However, I got distracted by seeing three 7-inchers standing side by side and forgot what I was thinking about.

I was now standing in front of these guys, as I had before, in only my bra and panties, but I had promised them more. "I'm a bit nervous. I haven't shown off my nude body to a lot of people. You guys, though, seem very comfortable showing off your nudity. Have you shown a lot of school staff your penises?" I asked curiously as I worked up the courage to continue.

"Believe it or not, we haven't. I'm pretty sure if any staff showed even hinted at showing us any nudity, they would be fired immediately," a 6-incher declared. I guess that means I'm special, I thought, taking away the absolutely correct message from what he just told me.

Taking a deep breath, I reached behind my back with shaky hands and got the hooks undone. I thought about maybe covering myself up with my hands, as this would allow me to keep my word while not increasing the number of men that have seen my tits by 1000%, but I sneezed, resulting in my bra falling off, causing the metaphorical cat to come out of the bag. The cat being my nude tits.

"Holy crap, do I love gym," a 5-incher who was growing into a 6 said, staring at my chest. In fact, all 10 penises were quickly becoming erect around me. Getting so many guys turned on at once felt like a major accomplishment, one that I wish I could brag about, but somehow I doubt my mom would appreciate hearing about this. Maybe our mailman. I'm always bragging about my sex life to him and for once I won't have to lie about it.

I knew I had one more piece of clothing to remove. A part of me thought that exposing my pussy to a room full of 18-year-old nude and erect guys might not be the smartest move, but a much bigger part of me wanted to see if I could get the guys even harder. I reached down, took a big gulp, and showed off a part of me I never thought I'd show to so many guys at once. "Holy fucking shit balls do I love gym," the newly achieved 6-incher said.

We all stood there staring at each other's respective genitals for a full minute, with no one saying anything. It would have felt awkward if it weren't for the fact that we were all horny as hell. "Are we really the first guys to ever see you naked?" One of the penises, I mean guys, asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah... but not because no one has wanted to. Sooooo many people have asked, even begged. You guys know that really handsome, cool, and successful teacher that all the hot girls in school want to bang?"

"You mean Mr. Goodwin?" One of them asked.

"Yeah, him. Every day he is on his knees in my office begging me to show him even a quarter of my nipple or a sliver of my vagina. Just today he offered me 10,000 dollars to show him my butt. But I refused," I bragged. None of this, of course, was true nor did I even know who the hell this Goodwin was. But now these guys think I'm a total hottie and the coolest lady in school.

"But why not take the money? You showed us your body with almost no second thought, so you shouldn't have any trouble showing it off to a much more age appropriate guy. You probably still could. Do you want us to ask him for you? Three of us have his class just after gym," a 3-incher said, poor guy.

"No! Don't! I mean... I'm holding out for more money. Yeah... that's it. I think I can get 20,000 grand from him. I got double that for stripping for a successful and handsome business guy last week," I bragged again.

"But earlier you just said..." An annoying 8-incher started to speak, realizing my slight fib. I would be mad at him except, well... like I said, he was an 8-incher.

"I should probably fix this internet wire before we talk anymore," I said, turning around. The sight of my naked ass seemed to shut them up well. After five minutes of fumbling with the wires and likely frequently exposing my butthole to the boys, I got it fixed and started to get dressed again. "Are you guys still all naked? They give you guys a ton of time to get dressed for gym, don't they?" I said as I put on my bra.

With my naughty bits put away, I said bye to the guys, walking into 3 different lockers as I exited due to me looking them in the... eyes... as I left. I told the gym teacher I fixed it and he simply grunted before successfully loading a video of a Hungarian man carrying a large amount of cement blocks while running on a treadmill.

From there, the day crawled by with nothing for me to do or people asking me to expose myself to. Not that I was looking to do that, although it was enjoyable seeing nearly a dozen cocks getting hard from my tits. By the end of the school day, I was more than ready to go home and headed to mom's office. "Jenny, I've got some important meetings. It's going to be another hour or so. You can find something to keep you busy in that time, I'm sure," Mom said to me after I walked into her office. I put on a pout, but she was having none of it and sent me on my way.

I wandered the halls, muttering to myself about how I could be at home arguing with an AI chatbot about what does or doesn't constitute a healthy amount of masturbation for a woman in her early 40s to be engaging in while living at her mom's house. As I found myself being drawn in by the subtle smell of ammonia coming from the janitor's closet, a pair of students approached me. "You're the new IT lady, right, miss? Could you help us out with something?" One of them asked me.

"I'm off the clock, so you'll have to figure out your TikTok issue yourself," I said dismissively.

"No, it's not that. It's not anything IT wise really. Sorry, I know this isn't your area at all and you probably will think it's stupid, but we are desperate," he explained. Hearing that got me intrigued. What could they need me for outside of fixing computer stuff? Did they need me to mentor them on life? Career advice? Maybe to get into their dream college, they needed a stellar recommendation letter that only an IT woman working at their high school for the past four days could provide. It's probably that.

"We're rehearsing our all-seniors play and our lead actress Sandy got detention for blowing her boyfriend and his friends during study hall. We can't afford to cancel today's rehearsal as we have less than two weeks till the premiere. Can you stand in for her?" This was so much better than having to bullshit my way through some recommendation letters. When I was in high school, it was my dream to have a part in the school play. I tried out every year but got rejected each time. The director kept saying I was weird and creepy for constantly implying I was willing to have a foursome with him while reading lines. Forgive me for knowing how Hollywood / small town high school play casting actually works.

"I'd love to help you out," I said, following them.

"We tried the teachers that were still here, the student athletes practicing, random people driving by the school. We almost had a janitor agree, but he wanted 50 bucks and Sandy's phone number but we were short on cash."

"And then you realized me, your first choice, was actually still here," I said proudly.

"Oh, we knew you were here the whole time," he said in response. I chose not to hear him say that.

Inside the drama classroom were about 15 or so students scrambling around. "Where's the drama teacher? Isn't he directing this?" I asked.

"No. It's like I said, this is the seniors' play. Everyone here is 18-years-old and thus we are fully in charge of the play. We act in it, direct it, build the sets ourselves. One of us even wrote the whole script. This will be an entirely original play."

"Interesting," I said, but didn't really mean it, as all I cared about was being the center of attention on the stage for a time. "Well, enough bull-shitting around. Let's do this," I said, marching up onto the small practice stage.

"Oh... okay," the student said, seeming to be taken aback by my eagerness. I was handed a script with my lines and directions highlighted and was told some junk about why I was in this scene and who the male student on stage with me was. I didn't really pay attention and figured they could just fix any mistakes in editing or with CG. The students next went on about how this was a high school play rehearsal and the idea of editing or CG had nothing to do with what we were doing, but again I didn't pay attention and figured any mistakes I made could be corrected later on with ADR.

The stage was cleared and finally we got to reading the scene. The guy I was in the scene with spoke various lines about our feelings and other boring stuff. Within the script, there were lines giving stage directions, telling us to walk here, do this, feel that. Eventually I got to an interesting note about my character right before one of my counterparts' lines. She stands before him, exposed, nothing between them now. She lets her guard drop completely.

"I demand the truth! You will not... what are you doing?" As I removed my shirt, I looked at the script and realized he totally messed up the last part of his line, the amateur.

"Unlike you, I'm following the script. It says I stand before you exposed. aka, I take off my shirt. I'm wearing a bra underneath, is that okay?" I asked, looking at the director and writer standing in front of the stage.

They both looked at me, aka, my chest, for a bit before responding. "What? No, I think you misunderstood..." The director started to say before the writer quickly whispered something in his ear. The director looked over at the writer and smiled. "What I meant is, it's absolutely not okay for you to be wearing a bra. That defeats the total purpose of this scene and the whole message of the play!"

I nodded and reached behind my back. My male counterpart then spoke up. "Guys, that's absolutely not what is meant when the script said she is exposed. We've done this scene twenty times before and..." He started to say.

"Brad, I swear to god I will Brutus your ass if you don't shut the hell up," the writer said.

I wasn't sure what all that was about, but as soon as my bra fell off my chest, the argument stopped. In fact, everything stopped as everyone seemed to simply be staring at my nipples for what felt like a solid minute. I'm sure other actresses had similar things happen when they undressed for their movies as well. Now that my tits were exposed to a room full of barely legal high school seniors, I think I truly knew what it felt like to be like Demi Moore, Kate Winslet, or any of those big titty chicks from the Porky's movies.

"I think it's your line," I said to my co-actor who hadn't stopped gawking at my chest.

That seemed to inspire the writer, who called on us to wait for a minute. He grabbed our scripts and, seemingly inspired by something, rapidly scribbled new lines and directions while scratching out old ones. "Here. I think you'll agree these new changes really work much better with the overall story," he said, handing them back to us, almost out of breath.

"I agree," I said, looking over the changes but having no clue what the overall story was, and just wanted to sound like I knew what I was talking about.

"Jesus, are we really doing this?" My fellow actor said.

"I could add in a pegging scene if that's what you want?" The writer said threateningly back to him. That seemed to ease whatever worry he had.

With a shaky voice, he read his next line. "Oh, my lady. You must remove your pants and underwear, else the... demons will come." I thought I remembered the director saying this was a play about life in 1700s Austria, based on the diary of some aristocrat's daughter. It seemed weird that there were now demons, but whatever.

"Oh yes, I agree. It makes total sense for me to do that and I will do that now," I said, reading my new line. She takes off her pants and underwear and then faces the writer, the new directions read. I did just that, but it felt odd to face the writer instead of the guy I was in the scene with. As my panties hit the stage floor, I once again felt like a true big name actress as several of the crew members high-fived and gathered around the front of the stage.

"The school is seriously okay with you presenting a play in which one of the female students will display full frontal nudity?" I asked, briefly breaking character.

"Oh well... they'll censor it, of course, for the actual performance," the director explained. That made sense, I thought. Although as I thought about it, it didn't make any sense at all.

"Ummm... Oh. You should turn around, my lady and bend over, making sure your butt is pointing towards the writer, as he likes fat asses like yours," my co-actor said, reading his newly created line. As I did, I told myself that line could use a few edits. For one, I don't think fat ass was a term used in the 1700s. Also, it's doubly weird that the character would request that I bend over for the playwright, breaking the fourth wall, which I thought was a big no-no in acting. But as I felt the cool breeze of the room flow over my exposed ass, I remembered these were just 18-year-old high schoolers and I really shouldn't expect too much from them. "And now do some jumping jacks," he said, reading his next line.

At the end of the scene, I got a loud round of applause from the males in the room, which I took to confirm my suspicions that I was a pretty good actress and my high school drama teacher would greatly regret not casting me if he saw me right now, naked on stage in front of high schoolers. "We should do that scene again. Just to make sure we get it perfect," the director suggested.

And so we did, though they told me I didn't need to bother getting dressed again. In fact, we ended up running the scene five more times with the writer adding in some more things for me to do, like licking my nipples, slapping my ass, and getting on my hands and knees and mooing. That last action the writer seemed to greatly enjoy, but the other guys thought it was weird and that he should indulge his fetishes on his own time.

Several other female actresses at this point voiced some concerns. "We've spent the whole god damn afternoon watching this fat titty whore make a slut of herself instead of practicing the actual play. Can we please move on and get some real rehearsal in?" One of them complained.

"I thought it was a good scene. Maybe I could stand in for the guy's role this time?" A short blond girl said meekly. An argument erupted among all the students, which told me I should get dressed and leave. Mom was probably ready anyway.

"You helped the seniors with their play? Doing what?" She asked me on the car ride home after I told her what I had been doing.

"Teaching them about the art of acting, of course," I said proudly.

"What do you know about acting? You've never acted in anything in your life," she countered.

"But I seem to have a natural ability for it. They all loved seeing my acting and I kind of liked showing it to them. The way they just stood there staring at my acting gave me a warm feeling inside. One of the crew members in particular really liked it when my acting bounced up and down."

"Bounced up and down?" Mom questioned.

"Ummm, I meant... jiggled just a foot away from his face. It's any acting term that you wouldn't know." She had a lot of follow up questions to that last comment, but I pretended to suddenly get my period, thus preventing me from talking.

The next day, after trying to convince her that school was canceled due to temperatures being in the mid-fifties, I sulked into my office. Having a job was really starting to suck compared to staying home and doing whatever I wanted while mooching off my mom. I planned on spending the morning trying to figure out how to get past the school's internet content filter before a teacher entered my office. He was older, in his fifties if not more. But he had a cool gray mustache and wore a blazer that made him look all fancy.

"Excuse me, Miss Jenny, is it? I'm Mr. Grant Holloway, the school's journalism teacher. I know you are here for IT purposes, but I heard you will at times help out in other areas, as you did with the senior play yesterday," he said.

My eyes opened wide with fear. While it had been innocent fun showing off my pussy to people under half my age, in retrospect, some people, like my mom, the principal, might take issue with my actions. "Yes, I lectured them on the virtues of keeping their clothes on when they get older and their moms hire them to work at the school they are the principal at. Just like I do every day without exception," I said, expertly dissuading him from any rumors he might have heard.

"Indeed. But I was hoping you could help my students. You see, they are practicing their camera work and I need someone for them to actually photograph. Would you be willing, or are you busy?" He glanced over at my computer, which was currently displaying the results from when I searched 'How to trick school computer into showing me rock hard southeast asian cock with mom finding out.' I quickly turned off my monitor and told him I would be happy to help.

As we walked the halls, he told me more about this class. "This class is dedicated to helping students learn modern types of media, including social networking, online video creation, and streaming. However, we are starting with good old fashioned photography because taking a good picture will always be a needed skill," he said.

"Uh-huh," I replied, indicating to him I was highly engaged in what he was saying and not day dreaming about Vietnamese men in various states of sexual excitement.

"Another interesting thing about this class is all the students are 18-years-old, which is an odd occurrence."

"That seems to happen a lot with classes and clubs at this school. At least the ones I interact with," I replied.

As I entered the class, about twenty students were spread out, taking pictures of various objects and comparing the photos they'd taken on their digital cameras. "Class, I promised you I would secure a much more human figure for you to picture and with that in mind, I present to you Jenny," he said, pointing to me.

"Oh thank god. We've been taking pictures of nothing but staplers for the past two weeks," one of the students said excitedly.

They all gathered around me, holding their cameras with anxious looks. "So... what do I do?" I questioned.

"We have a small platform that you can stand on in the middle of the classroom. Simply get on it and let the students practice their craft," Mr. Holloway said. I did just that, and soon I heard an almost unrelenting barrage of shutter clicks sounding off around me from all angles. "Anyone can take a picture of someone straight on. Try experimenting with different angles, tilts, distances and whatever else you might think of," he said, encouraging his students. Soon some students were right below me, taking high angle pictures of me while others did the opposite and got on top of desks to get shots from above me. It's a good thing I had a well deserved inflated opinion of my looks or else I might be feeling self conscious about all of this.

After a few minutes, one of the male students brought up a concern. "I'm trying to achieve a minimalist look, but her shirt is adding unnecessary detail to the photograph," he said.

This prompted another male student to complain as well. "Yeah, I agree. I'm exploring the theme of vulnerability and I think having the model without a shirt would better convey that emotion," he added.

Mr. Holloway considered what they were saying for a moment before making a recommendation. "I concur. Jenny, could you please remove your shirt?"

I also considered for a moment how stripping to my bra in a classroom full of 18-year-olds might be a bad idea, however it's not like they were asking me to do this for weird, perverted reasons. It was no different than the play I helped out with yesterday. I was facilitating art with my body. "You got it!" I said before removing my shirt and tossing it aside.

This action seemed to reinvigorate the students' passion for photography, and the sound of their shutters was louder than ever. The male students all seemed to be focusing on top down shots now that I was in my bra. However, that soon changed when the students again claimed I needed to adjust my wardrobe further. "For this photograph, I want to emphasize the model's strength and resilience, and removing the pants could highlight that," a guy said.

"The pants are disrupting the flow of the composition, and I want a more fluid and dynamic image," another added. I didn't understand all these terms they were throwing out, but I took it to mean I was doing a fantastic job and could do even better if I took off my pants.

"Should I take off my pants then, Mr. Holloway? I'm wearing panties, so that won't be an issue. Well, less panties and more a thong, but still."

Hearing the word thong seemed to be the key phrase he was looking for. "Yes! I mean... the students are right and taking off your pants will enhance the composition. But could you face away from me while you take them off and do it slowly," he said, explaining his decision.

With my pants off, the students were much more interested in getting shots from below me. At least the male ones were. The female students seemed to keep their distance, taking only the occasional picture and getting increasingly annoyed by the whole situation. "Greg! How many pictures of her ass do you need to take from like four inches away?" One of them asked.

"So many... I mean. I'm trying different... aperture settings. Yeah, that's right," he replied.

"Jake! I don't think your girlfriend would be so inclined for you to be photographing some random woman's crotch so enthusiastically," another woman commented to another guy.

"Sally encourages me to pursue my passions and right now my passion is getting just the right shot of this chick's thong clad vagina. Could you turn a bit, miss? I want to get just the right lighting on your camel toe," he asked me.

After a while, a number of the guys gathered together in the corner of the classroom discussing something while staring at me. They seemed to agree on something, then returned to photographing me. After taking a few shots, one of them then stood up and addressed the teacher again. "Dang it. I'm trying to capture a photograph that really speaks to 3rd wave feminism, but her bra is making weird shadows that are totally ruining my vision!"

"I know what you mean. I want my pictures to speak to women across the ages, but the bra is acting like a barrier to it, both metaphorically and physically," another of the guys added.

A third guy, who hadn't been in the small meeting before, seemed to catch on and added his own opinion. "Yeah, I'm with you guys. The bra is totally preventing me from capturing pictures of her naked tits. It should go." The two guys glared at him and he seemed to back away.

"Okay, that's enough. You guys are obviously just making up shit because you want to see this lady's tits. This is a photography lesson, not a strip club," one of the female students said, speaking up.

Mr. Holloway spoke up in the guy's defense. "Actually, almost 60% of professional photography involves a naked woman's chest," he claimed.

"There's no way that's true, sir," she shot back.

"Oh I'm sorry. Am I the ignorant student and you're the teacher who's spent his whole life taking pictures? Did you spend 2 years in the nineties traveling around India capturing the culture there in the form of candid images? Do you have a binder at home filled with over 400 topless pictures of beautiful Indian women that are expertly framed? No?" Mr. Holloway said mockingly.

"Geez, fine. If you want to take photos of her tits, then just do it. Sorry for questioning you," she replied.

I took that to mean I should take off my bra, so I did. As I stood there with my tits exposed and the guys were pushing each other to get a spot right in front of me, I realized in just two days I had shown off my nudity to a large portion of the senior class. However, I'm sure this would be the end of it and no more crazy things would happen where I would be exposed to barely legal students anymore. Besides, these guys were only seeing my tits, which was only like the second most intimate thing I could show.

"And now the thong, Jenny," Mr. Holloway informed me. I didn't even hear the excuses this time for why having a thin piece of cloth covering my baby maker was an issue, but I'm sure there were a ton of totally valid ones. Tossing my thong aside, I was now fully nude for a classroom of twenty students and one teacher.

"Do you think next time we could get a guy to model nude for us, Mr. Holloway? I know a lot of guys who would love to expose themselves to a room full of high schoolers," one of the female students asked, with several others nodding at her suggestion.

"What? When would a photographer ever need to learn to take pictures of a cock? That's a really weird suggestion to make to your high school teacher, Kendra," he replied judgmentally. With a defeated look on her face, she and the other girls resumed taking pictures of vagina.

"Could you spread your legs apart, miss? And also your butt cheeks? I'm... trying to get my shutter speed set correctly," one of the guys said.

"Damn it Jeff! Can you at least be a bit ashamed taking pictures of a naked woman while I, your girlfriend of three years, am in the room with you?"

"What? I've asked you like a dozen times to take photos of your butthole and you always tell me no! Don't act like you didn't have your chance!" The guy replied as I fulfilled his requests.

"Miss, can you make a face like you think that guys who watch hentai are actually really cool and dateable? Perfect! You see, Helen? It's not a big deal and you should feel bad for breaking up with me because of it!" A guy taking pictures of my tits said.

"I broke up with you because you were watching hentai on your phone while eating dinner with my parents! And now my mom is obsessed with it, you jerk!" A student shouted back at him.

"Miss, can you angle towards me? I want to get a photo directly underneath you, looking straight up," a nerdy looking guy said.

"Damn it Greg! That's really not cool to do!" a nerdy looking girl yelled at him. "I told you I wanted to take that shot! You're stealing my ideas!" Man, letting myself get photographed by high schoolers was really stirring up some strong emotions.

That's when I realized I should address something. "There are no memory cards in those cameras, right? They are just taking practice shots and not actually saving images of my naked body?" I asked while fulfilling a request to raise my right leg as high as possible.

"What? Of course they have memory cards. What would be the point of this if they couldn't admire their photos afterward?" That made sense but also made me a bit concerned.

"So if they are keeping these photos of me... they aren't going to do anything weird with them, are they?"

"Jenny, these are 18-year-old high school boys. What is the worst they could do with hundreds, if not thousands of nude pictures of a woman?" He had a good point, and I relaxed a bit before following directions and sitting on the ground with my legs fully spread.

Twenty minutes later, I was dressed again and heading out the classroom door. "Bye guys! Good job with your photography today! I'm glad I could help out. Sorry, Billy, for getting fluids on your lens, I really don't know what came over me." With that, I headed back to the office, having fulfilled my job as an IT specialist again. Kinda.

However, it seemed my job that day wasn't done yet. This job was proving harder than I'd like, even though I wasn't actually doing much IT stuff. Monique, my friend Ashley's daughter, approached me with her two friends in tow, as they had before. "Jenny! We've been following your advice and practicing kissing each other every day, even at school during our free time," Monique said.

"But guys still aren't asking us out! In fact, they think we're lesbians now. Just because we spend 40 to 70 minutes every day kissing each other," one of the friends said. I had shown these girls how to kiss a guy last time we got together, in what turned out to be my first ever kiss, although I didn't advertise that to them as I liked being this cool, experienced chick they feel like they could approach for love advice.

"What else can we do to get a boyfriend because I really, really want one," the other friend said in an almost whiny tone.

I took pity on these three girls once again and brought them into an empty classroom. "It's great that you three have been making out with each other so much. One day you'll thank me for it. But of course that isn't enough to get a guy to ask you out. A guy wants to know that you know more than just kissing," I explained.

"So what do they want us to know?" Monique asked. I paused as I hadn't actually thought about what I was going to say next. Something I commonly do.

"It's better if I just show you," I said, getting up and heading into the school hallway. It was mostly empty, but I managed to find a handsome looking student wandering around. "Excuse me! Are you 18 and willing to participate in a demonstration on how to please a guy?"

He looked at me, almost scared and replied, "... Yes?" I grabbed his hand and dragged him into the classroom.

"Oh, hi Tommy! " He and I are in AP Biology together," Monique's friend said. Tommy waved back, confused. I pulled out two chairs and dragged them in front of the girls, making Tommy sit next to me.

"Okay, so let's say you are in a guy's car and just got back from an awesome date where you... I don't know... threw empty bottles at a billboard for several hours," I said.

"That sounds like a weird date. How does that even count as a date?" Monique questioned.

"Yeah, I would never do that, let alone ask a girl to go do that with me," Tommy added.

"It doesn't matter! It's just an example of an awesome date, okay! Now, let's do a bit of roleplay, Tommy and show these girls how guys want a date to end." Tommy nodded but still looked scared and confused.

"Wow, Tommy. Thanks for driving me to the side of the highway and letting me throw several hundred glass bottles at that advertisement," I said in my horny high school girl voice.

I paused to let Tommy reply. "I... what am I supposed to say? I'm still really confused about why a girl would want to spend a date vandalizing something," he replied.

"Dear lord, fine! Forget the billboard. You make up the date we just had then," I shot back.

"Oh, okay. Well, that was a nice movie we just saw," he said, demonstrating terrible acting ability.

"A movie? Dear Lord, your generation is lame. But fine. Anyway... Yep! And now that the... movie... is done, I'm horny!"

Tommy looked at the three girls watching, hoping they could help him understand what was going on, but they just kept watching intently. "I'm sorry?" He said back to me.

Rolling my eyes, I pulled my shirt over my head. "Guys like it when you show them your naked body. In fact, a good way to get them to go on a date with you is to show it to them before you ask them out. Strippers, for example, get dates all the time. As do female flashers," I said to the girls. Tommy looked like he might object to what I was saying, but then I took off my bra and he seemed to forget what he was about to say.

As I took off my pants, I continued to impart my vast knowledge of getting lots of dates onto my eager to learn audience. "Some girls might say showing a guy your pussy makes you a whore, slut, tramp, or hussy. I promise you all those girls don't have boyfriends, so who cares what they think?"

One of the friends pointed something out to me as I took off my thong. "Lisa Treads calls other girls a slut all the time and she has been dating the football captain for the past year."

"Lisa is likely paying him, blackmailing him, or acting like a total slut and showing him her pussy in order to get him to agree to date her." Monique was about to raise a question, but my next actions seemed to make her forget what she was about to say.

"But as I was saying earlier, you need to develop skills that show you would be a good boyfriend. The primary skill being getting a guy to cum," I explained as I reached for Tommy's pants. He stood up quickly, looking scared as to what was about to happen. "Tommy, we're pretending to be in a car, remember? You can't just stand up, you'd bash your head on the ceiling." Obviously, he didn't have the acting ability that I had.

"This can't be real. You're naked and now you're going to... make me cum in front of three of my classmates? Why are we doing this?"

"These girls want to know how to get a boyfriend. Now, take off your pants," I demanded.

"Oh? How about I just be one of your boyfriends? I would love to date any of you," Tommy said, smiling at the girls.

All three of them perked up and seemed open to the idea. However, I pointed out the obvious. "No. That's a terrible idea. You're the practice boyfriend. You don't date your practice boyfriend. You use him to get really good at dating and then you go after the big fish. The really hot guys," I explained. Monique and her friends looked disappointed but accepted what I said.

"Use me?" Tommy said.

"Pants!" I yelled, tired of repeating myself. Startled by my tone, he finally pulled off his jeans, leaving him in his boxers with an obvious bulge.

"I'm not sure if the advice you are giving these girls is exactly right... in a factual or moral sense. Maybe we should... Hey!" Tommy was going on about some unimportant bullshit and in an effort to get to the point, I grabbed and pulled down his boxers. When I looked up, I was face to face with his 6-inch, erect cock, way closer than I had been to any of those in the locker room before. It was almost mesmerizing. After staring at it for half a minute, Tommy asked, "So... what are we doing?" I shook myself awake and pushed him back into the chair, resuming our role play.

"I was just about to show these girls how to make a guy feel... good," I said, trailing off. All my previous bravado and pretending to be a highly experienced man-pleaser had caught up with me. I had never touched a dick before, let alone made one cum. Obviously, I had seen many, and I mean many, videos of various women, men, and, during a weird phase I was going through two years ago, robots, make men cum with their hands, mouths, genitals, or linear actuators. But all that extensive research hadn't prepared me for the real thing.

"Miss? Is part of making a guy cum staring silently at his penis with a worried look?" One of the girls asked me.

"What? No. I mean yes. It's a secret trick of mine that drives guys wild. But that part is over and now I'm going to... touch it."

With a trembling hand, I slowly reached for the fleshy rod. After twenty seconds of slow movement, I finally made contact. I had touched a dick after so many years of thinking about it, especially when I was showering or waiting on a red light in traffic. I gently wrapped my fingers around him, taken aback by how soft his skin was, almost velvety. But as I gripped him, I appreciated how firm he actually was. It was also so warm, almost radiating heat into me in such a way that I found it thrilling. I swear I could almost feel the pulse of his heart through his dick. Man, cocks were awesome. No wonder guys like having them so much.

While I didn't know much about pleasuring a guy with my hand, I did know that simply holding onto it stationary while gawking at it probably wouldn't get the job done. I began to move my hand up and down his length, feeling his silky texture glide along my skin. Each stroke brought a new sensation. The way his skin shifted, subtle twitches and more. As I continued and began to pump him with more vigor, I could feel and hear his breathing increasing, telling me that I was rocking his world and that I was a hand job goddess.

His cock became soaked in a combination of sweat and precum that had begun leaking generously from his tip. It was an odd but highly erotic feeling on my hands. Whatever concern Tommy had about getting a hand job in a classroom while three girls watched seemed to have evaporated as I saw his face grow flush from the pleasure I was gifting him. He grabbed onto my shoulder, growing dangerously close to being the first man to ever touch my naked body, not that I would have cared if he did in the moment. I was beginning to have my own reactions to the experience, almost as if his own ecstasy was fueling mine. Suddenly I felt a desire to go further. I wanted him to explore my body like I was his. I wanted more than just my hand to touch his cock. I wanted him deep inside...

Hot liquid began to coat my hand and I looked down to witness the completion of my first ever hand job. I continued to stroke him as wave after wave of cum squirted out of him, absolutely drenching my hand in his seed. Its scent hit me hard and seemed to drive me even more toward making bad choices. But I held off, figuring doing so would be inappropriate. After all, I didn't want to do anything weird in front of these 18-year-olds.

"And... that's how you pleasure a guy," I said, concluding my lesson. Monique and her friends looked amazed then stood up and applauded me.

"Wait, what?" Tommy said, coming back from his orgasm induced haze. "You didn't teach them anything. You just gave me a hand job in front of them. Shouldn't you have guided them through it? They could have just watched videos of girls giving guys hand jobs instead of this!"

"Are you suggesting I show high school girls porn, Tommy? That's against school policy!" I shot back. "You're excused."

With a look of highly mixed feelings, Tommy got his pants back on and left. "I would recommend you girls now practice giving each other hand jobs on a daily basis at least," I said to the three of them.

"But... we don't have penises," Monique pointed out.

"Fingering a girl and giving a guy a hand job involves 90% the same skills," I said, making a bit of an assumption.

"Couldn't we just practice on Tommy? Isn't he our practice boyfriend now?" One of the friends suggested.

"Trust me, you don't want to do that. If you start giving him or other guys hand jobs on the regular, pretty soon he'll want to start hanging out and getting to know you better. Then he'll start getting you gifts, taking you out for dinner, and all kinds of other bullshit that won't increase your chances of getting a boyfriend. Best to just practice fingering each other," I explained.

The three of them seemed to understand. "Oh! We could finger each other during our free period in a stall in the girls' bathroom!" Monique suggested.

"Yes! And in the locker room before gym class. They give us so much time to get dressed after all. Why not use some of it to practice hand jobs on each other?" As I got dressed, I couldn't help but smile at how much I was helping these young ladies and not leading them down a sexually confusing path. I was also smiling because I had successfully completed my first hand job. On a guy 23 years younger than me too!

The rest of the day went without issue or me finding an excuse to jack off any more men, despite me making eyes at the assistant principal when we happened to walk by each other. Maybe if his wife hadn't been walking with him, he would have been more open to what I was trying to say with my eyes.

"Did you have a good day, Jenny?" Mom asked as we got in the car.

"Best day yet!" I declared.

"Why do you smell like ammonia? Don't tell me you got into the janitor's closet. I told you to stay away from that."

"Oh, don't worry, Mom. After what I did today, I don't think I will ever need that closet again," I said slickly.

"What the fuck does that mean, Jenny?"