Ms Donnel had always been a hip college teacher. She wore clothes with black sharp corners and shiny metal buttons. English and theater was her teaching staple. Her true passion was in opening our minds to new information and experiences.
Once in theatre class, she guided us through a yoga session. Mind you, this was at a time, when nobody really knew what yoga was, but everyone knew that it had to do with devil worship. I still vividly remember lying on my back on that red brick floor with the white square lines in between. At the height of anticipation for a brisk wind to flow through the hall whirled up by a summoned demon, I finally gave into her requests to close my eyes. And, I never close my eyes but to sleep and keep a bug from flying in.
Eerily quiet, lying on my back, I felt the presence of my ten theatre classmates. Everyone else had left the afternoon program already. Only the ethereal imprint of long lunch lines and screaming was left in the school hall. The teacher taught about sinking our tail down to the center of the earth to ground ourselves. How demonic! Would I be able to tell me ma about this. No, unless I wanted to spend an afternoon in church for deprogramming by our pastor.
"Naked till you make it!" the loud and clear voice of the little woman with the black hair and pointy glasses echoed through the large school auditorium. "Going on stage, we often feel naked and exposed. In dream mythology, dreaming about being naked means that we fear not being prepared. In psychology, we look our fears directly in the eye. And, we find out, they are nothing but shadows on the wall looking like monsters."
"Naked till you make it. What would happen, if you were naked on a stage and everyone could see you? Nothing."
"We are going to rehearse the first act of our play naked. And, everyone gets to do their part over and over until it is perfect. Once you get that bliss of everything working, you can get dressed again."
Ms Donnel lifted her pointy triangular nose before tilting her neck down to unbutton her black blouse with the utmost focus. She dropped the blouse on top of the counter for the lunch line. Her knee long gray tight skirt followed down with a side to side hip movement. Her tall black leather boots fell sideways without her legs inside. The pale pasty body of Ms Donnel was visible.
Her body was average, yet showed that she was a young teacher. Her boobs were thin rectangles. Her face kept the same studious, serious, and focused look. That's why she didn't seem naked and nobody laughed. The faces of the other students were tense. Nobody gestured. Everyone looked.
Sonya, the blond chubby girl of rich parents with a cheerleader attitude, stepped forward as the first. Her face smiled and shined with glee at being open minded and progressive. Her colorful t-shirt came off quickly. The jeans fought tooth and nail coming down her hips. Her panties had golden and red prints on cotton. The cotton was a narrow brief that had eaten itself into her baby fat and vaginal-anal cleft. The sexiest part of her body were her juicy calves.
Roni was the long natural black haired girl with her hair colored red. She was the punk girl that loved snowboarding and drinking beer in alleys with her clique. Her eco hemp t-shirt that called to protect the whales came over her head and revealed her black see through bra. Her legs were tall and slender. Her skin was extra white as Snow White's. Her naval had a ring piercing. And, her shoulder had a star tattoo.
With the unofficial leaders in the nude, everyone else had to follow. And, lastly the boys followed as well. There were only three boys in the group, because theatre in our college was mostly a girls' thing. My biggest worry was getting a boner from all the nudity around me. What turned me on the most was seeing all the little girlish panties rolled in a bunch on the floor. They genuinely called sexy, while the naked girls' faces transcended the explicit nature of the moment.
My own clothes were briefs that my ma had bought me. The rubber band had worn out, so that they often slipped down my butt. The t-shirt had been worn for two years now. The socks had a hole at the bottom that I was careful to conceal. My idea that socks could have holes because of shoes had failed today. My ding-dong had shriveled to its smallest size, where the balls almost seemed larger. I hoped that it would stay this way.
"Ms. Donnel is so brave to teach us this risky theatre technique," said Roni into my ear, while the first dialog was held on the stage. Roni was my secret dream girl friend. The two girls on stage were talking fast to get through their part. Ms Donnel, ever patient, corrected them and had them retake. The college maintenance supervisor was watching on from a respectful distance, while leaning on his seven feet wide broom.
Dave was a stud. His pecs and abdominal muscles clearly showed their definition. His light brown hair was like a powerful lion mane groomed with hair product. His brown eyes twinkled with confidence. His pubic hair was shaved. Emma next to him blushed with red cheeks. Her body jerked from nervous laughs, when her eyes did not glance down at Dave's jewels.
