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another view of the bottom

Corey looked out the window of his room at the full moon on this frigid, still night. He was dressed in his bathrobe. That was as far as he got and he knew he was chickening out. Lisa had asked him to make “his big move” tonight, going naked with her to Colleen Reilly’s little get-together at her apartment in the faculty quarters, just a short walk across campus. Under the cover of darkness, he wouldn’t get caught and charged with indecent exposure, and of course Colleen and everyone at her party would be cool about it. Colleen, in fact, had even signed the petition.

Corey was so happy with Lisa, they had a great sex life, he just didn’t agree with her that BSC guys were being emasculated and marginalized by having to wear clothes while the girls got to be naked and strong all around them. But she did have something of a point. Guys in 1968 were not like guys today, certainly not like him. Nudity was a benefit to the girls and would probably be a benefit to the guys too if they tried it nowadays.

They had talked about whether Blanke Schande girls were dominant or submissive. Having to be naked all the time -- but they agreed to it! Having to present -- but the guys couldn’t touch! One might think that the girls, being stripped, would be submissive, bordering on sex slaves, but of course at BSC nothing could be further from the truth. He had written an essay about it once for class. So complicated.

He wandered down his hallway, past Ahmad’s room and Hank’s, then past the doorless rooms of Shelly and Keisha and Erendira. Erendira was sitting on her bed, reading her sociology book, legs splayed open in full view, idly tugging on one big nipple, flexing her toes lazily. So unself-conscious. And now here was Corey, a typical covered up BSC male.

Maybe he had been looking at Erendira longer than he thought, but she looked up with a pleasant expression and assumed that he was asking her to “present”.

Keisha walked past him and said hi. She always had a smile for him. As she passed by her high, bare butt cheek brushed his hip. These halls were so narrow.

Erendira spread her legs, her large breasts languidly rolling a bit off each side of her chest, and spread her lower lips for Corey. Corey smiled. “You seem depressed,” the voluptuous Hispanic girl said.

Corey smiled faintly and shrugged. “I’d hate it if I was the one who had to do that.”

Erendira looked at him and then turned over onto all fours. Her firm breasts, like hanging grapefruit, almost touched the bed as she reached back and spread her brown butt cheeks, displaying the asterisk of her anus. “It’s nothing, after a while. It’s just me.” Keeping this position, she said, “You think of the petition your girlfriend has, no?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe you’re afraid of being gay, seeing the other guys naked.” She shifted so as to get better anchoring and spread her butt wider.

“Maybe.”

“Well so what? You know whether you’re gay or not. I think you’re not.”

Corey looked at her brown eyes, then at her brown asterisk. She shifted again and to his amazement he saw the anus open to a dark little hole about half an inch across. “Wow,” he said.

“Go ahead, look closer,” Erendira said, as if with pride. “I just learned how to relax this week. Olga showed me.”

“Well I’m impressed,” Corey said.

“Like the scent? Mexican Lily.” Blanke Schande females pride themselves on their wide variety of enema formulations.

Corey smiled. “Very nice.” It reminded him of springtime. “So,” he said, as he leaned forward and peered into the dark red interior walls of Erendira’s empty, recently irrigated rectum. “What should I do?”

“Be brave,” she said.

“Thanks, it’s not easy.”

“Yes I know,” said the sympathetic naked girl with the breasts like big hanging grapefruit and the anus that was open to reveal her most inner depths, as if it was her very soul.

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