The Permanude Professor

Dr. Penelope Stoddard stretched out her long body--her long arms and especially her long legs--under the transparent cover as she woke. It was a specially designed material: as she stretched and moved under it, it warmed up. It must have been just after seven, but her early-bird students were already entering the converted old theater. They simply loved being there as she got up and went through her morning ablutions.

It certainly helped that they all especially enjoyed the fact that she was always totally nude.

She stretched out her upper body and raised her arms above her head as she sat up. "Good morning early birds!"

"Good morning professor!" They all sounded so energetic and happy. Penelope knew that it was her naked state that energized them. She was a unique specimen to them--and she loved it!

She pushed off the cover and sat at the edge of her queen bed. As usual, her long, muscular legs were casually open; her deep pink openness visible through her thick mat of silvery hair pointed directly at her students.

"How is everyone doing this fine morning?"

The first solar rays were peeking through the window over her shower and toilet area. Both were behind glass on the sides but open in front.

"Fine, professor!" "Great, and you?"

Penelope made a show of shading her eyes and looking all around the old theater seats. "So: where is Cal with my breakfast?!"

That got a laugh as usual.

"It's early." "Don't worry." "You have time to shower."

The shower suggestion came from Ben, as always. He had never been a morning person... until he had learned that his fifty-three-year-old, not-unattractive female sociology professor was going permanude.

It was 2029, and Dr. Stoddard saw all the signs that the 2030's would be a time of a great sexual revolution--especially regarding acceptance of female nudity. Women's fashions were becoming more and more revealing, and major motion pictures were featuring big-name actresses quite literally baring it all.

Penelope saw women going totally nude in public in just a few years; what challenges would they face? Who would be in the vanguard, who would be among the first to dare to go bare?

She saw herself as that woman. And she also saw a golden research opportunity.

The trustees did not see it... until Penelope offered to pay for her permanude project by granting the college an endowment from her father's estate.

It had been quite a shock three years back: not just her father's unexpected death, but the discovery that that goofy inventor/entrepreneur--whose endearing creations used to be featured on late-night infomercials--had somehow amassed a fortune exceeding fifteen million dollars.

Stoddard only gave the college barely over a million... that, it seemed, was the minimum amount required to get their attention. Suddenly, they were "all in" on her plan to convert the old theatre into her permanude pod.

The theatre had been built in 1923. It had fallen into serious disuse by the time that the new, state-of-the-art theatre was unveiled in 2001. (Unremarkably, it's first public event was a screening of the Kubrick film.)

The old theatre building became nothing but a depository of excess junk. The theatre itself was only rarely used for classes.

Penelope wanted to change all that.

Dr. Stoddard sat with an architect. They walked through the building as he shook his head. Then, she told him what his budget would be.

They shook hands. "When do we start?" he asked.

Penelope was there every day during construction. She would appear at the top of the stairs between the seats and walk down to the stage. She would invariably be wearing flats and a sundress, as both were easy to slip off.

She would slip them off and step up on the stage, totally nude.

At first, the all-male contractor crew would stop, stare, leer and comment. But Dr. Stoddard would simply smile and stroll around--acting as if her nudity was natural. She would make a point to speak with each worker. She would ask what his specialty was; she would ask intelligent questions; she would compliment him and his work.

Eventually, the workers came to view her as their lucky charm who was showing off all of her charms, or as their untouchably naked touchstone. Penelope had to randomize the timing of her daily nude appearances as the men came to live for those precious moments spent with a statuesque, brilliant, and totally bare lady.

When the time finally came to not only unveil the good doctor's permanude pod--but also the good doctor--Penelope was stunned. All of the Board was there, as well as at least fifteen of her colleagues.

Once she was down at the bottom step of the theatre seats, she looked up the few steps to the converted stage--her new, nude home for at least the next three and a half months.

She slipped off her flip-flops, then she shrugged her body out of her sundress. Totally nude, she pulled the very last garment that she would wear for a long, long time off her bare feet and handed it to Dean Charles.

"Hold on to this for me."

"I will!" The Dean's voice was unexpectedly choked with emotion.

And that got Penelope started.

She climbed the three stairs to the stage. She turned around.

Dr. Penelope Anne Stoddard, possessor of a dual Masters and a PhD; author of three acclaimed books on female nudity and female sexuality...

"The Female Nude: In History and in the Now."

"From Ishtar to Aphrodite: Female Goddesses as an Early Expression of Female Sexuality."

"The Shock of the Clitoris: The Pleasure and the Power of a Nub of Flesh."

...stood on that stage, head down, blushing down to her heaving breasts, tears running down her cheeks.

Somehow, in her goal of becoming the nude female equivalent of Neil Armstrong, Penelope had glossed over the fact that she was very female in every way. She was--occasionally--a whirling mass or more a whirling mess of swirling emotions.

As her audience applauded and cheered her bravery, she--at that moment--did not feel very brave at all.

Dr. Penelope Ann Stoddard felt like a very shy, very scared girl; a girl who had gotten in way over her head.

Dr. Stoddard smiled and shook her head in the present as she headed--stage left--to her very open bathroom area. The shower was right there, with only a wall of glass between the theatre seats, and another glass wall between her toilet area.

Penelope squatted down over the depression in the tiles that was her urinal. As she released her warm yellow stream, she looked to her students. Eight of twelve were in now, but only half of them were watching her. The other half were suddenly engrossed in their laptops or their U-Pads.

Dr. Stoddard pressed the button that flushed things down, then the bidet button. Once she was sufficiently cleaned belowdecks, she padded to the shower.

She knew this was her morning class's favorite part. It was the reason so many of them got in so early.

Today was not a hair washing day, but Penelope was expert enough in pointing the shower head and positioning her body that she had no need of a shower cap.

She turned and turned; luxuriating in the feel of the hot, pulsating water, in the feel of massaging in her lavender-scented body wash from head to toes--and the feel of now nine sets of eyes taking in every inch of her foamy warm wet nakedness.

Dr. Stoddard shut the shower off and stepped out--standing just in front. In seconds, the pressure sensors activated the hot dry blasts of air that emanated from vents both above and below.

Penelope was deadset against the use of towels. A towel was simply too much of a temptation of a temporary body covering.

As soon as the hot air shut off, she looked down to see Cal at the foot of her stairs. She smiled down at him; he smiled up at her.

Cal was tall, with blue eyes behind wire-rims and with dark brown hair. He was thin--probably too thin--which was one of the reasons Dr. Stoddard was trying to get him addicted to Bikini Barista Bagels. It also helped that the college coed baristas currently wore teeny micro-mini plaid skirts that showed off their g-strings and nothing on top but colorful pasties.

He held up the paper bag.

"Come on up, my dear man."

Cal was grinning as usual as he sat his clothed self next to his starkly naked professor.

"The usual for both of us?" she enquired.

"Yes ma'am. Whole wheat bagels with just a schmear of cream cheese. And coffee."

Cal opened the bag and dutifully spread everything out on the professor's tiny breakfast table--that also doubled as her lectern, when raised.

"Still not interested in joining this crazy old lady in the nude?" she asked between bites.

"Not yet." He looked down.

"Yet" was a good word to Penelope.

"Are you worried about your erection? Arousals are natural... look at me."

Dr. Stoddard leaned back a bit and spread her legs.

Cal knew better by now than to object. He leaned forward. Yes: her clitoris was obvious, even amidst her thick thicket of hair. Penelope's inner labia were definitely puffier, sloppier--more distended-looking than usual.

Penelope thrust out her impressive breasts for her young student. She once had 38DD's--until they started sagging in her early thirties. So: she had them reduced to their current 36D size, and also ensured that the once and future droop was over.

Cal dutifully examined each tit--specifically, her erect nipples. Dr. Stoddard's face and figure had often been compared to the actor Jamie Lee Curtis. Back then, to the way that stunner looked in 'Trading Places;' now, to the way she looked more currently with her short, silvery-white hair.

A very satisfied Cal sat back and nodded. "Yes, professor: you are clearly aroused."

Dr. Stoddard only smiled and nodded back. Eleven of her twelve morning students were in--she had seven girls and five guys--and two of the three young ladies who had opted to attend her class in the nude were here--nude. But then little Cara was always almost late.

Breakfast done, Cal graciously excused himself. He adjusted her table and lifted it up to lectern height, then locked it. My goodness, Penelope thought, watching him, he was so obviously aroused, almost to the point of discomfort. Why oh why were all the males in her class so shy about hiding their very natural erections?

"Well. Let's begin--" then Cara burst in. Such a sweet, cute little blonde; even cuter with her clothes off. Everyone, male and female turned to take her in.

Penelope pressed her remote and the big screen TV mounted over her rear office slider came on. Her tiny office consisted of a clear, plexiglass, squared-off U-shaped "desk" with a chair for a student. In back, all visible through more glass sliders was her even tinier, open balcony. Just below her balcony was a spot of soil that she was using to grow totally organic vegetables.

Dr. Stoddard was out there--always nude and often squatting--nearly every day. The theatre was a good two to three minute walk uphill from the main campus, and yet there always seemed to be several curious students who just happened to be strolling by.

Penelope had only strayed away once for an ill-advised casually naked walk around campus. There were simply too many stares, too many whispers, too many pointed fingers. Shock and awe simply wasn't what her nudity was about. Currently, she stayed around the theatre building; walking and jogging around it in circles as if leashed by an invisible tether.

"Today," she began, "we're looking at female nude scenes in film history, and how they have evolved over a hundred years."

This class was a version of her book on the female nude in history, with an addendum and indeed an emphasis on female sexuality. Dr. Stoddard contended that the female nude evoked a reaction in both genders, regardless of sexual preferences. In her worldview, female nudity and human sexuality went hand in hand.

The class watched film clips from the early 1920s to the late 2020s. All had been selected and seamlessly edited with the help of an AI program. Stoddard paused before each scene to discuss the director's motivations and how the actors felt. She played the scene and then paused again to go over the audience's reactions.

That was Penelope's main goal: to collect data re the audience reaction to her nudity. She did not intend to only safely bask in the general adoration of her students. She intended to bring in visiting academics. If they agreed with her mission, she would host a nude symposium. If they disagreed, it would be a nude vs. clothed debate.

Either way, Dr. Stoddard would invite as many students as could fit in the theater: just over one hundred in the seats; maybe one hundred fifteen if some stood.

Finally, the presentation ended and she clicked the television off. Everyone knew what was next. All eyes were glancing at Cara.

Cara had made the decision to go nude toward the end of last week's class. She had not yet had to opportunity to take the stage and "discuss" her to-be-expected accompanying feelings of newfound sexual freedom.

It was by no means required, but Dr. Stoddard did encourage her newly naked students to express themselves sexually.

Curvy blonde Libby--the first girl to go nude--decided to masturbate herself to orgasm whilst leaning back in a chair on stage.

Slim brunette and overall tanned Mae Ann--to the delight of the class--chose to lie down with the good doctor in her queen bed and engage in kissing and cuddling and mutual touching until both not-so-fair ladies climaxed.

It was up to the student. They were all seniors, aged twenty or twenty-one. They had all signed releases stating that they were consenting adults, that any activities had to be consensual, and that participating or not would have no impact on their grades.

Little naked Cara licked her lips. She started to stand.

"No! It's not right!"

Cal was standing up. The theatre went still. It was one of those frozen in time, pin-drop moments.

"We guys... we sit back and watch. 'Great! Another cute girl's getting naked and getting off.' Enough's enough! Women fought for the vote; they fought for equal rights. Too often, all you see in those old pictures are women. Where are the men? This lady... she's fighting for us all. Women will go first. Women will go nude. But shouldn't we all have that right? As long as we don't hurt anyone, as long as we stay away from children... shouldn't we all have the right to dress or undress as we please?"

Then Cal started undressing.

It was warm for early November, so young Cal was wearing nothing under his shortsleeved golf-style shirt. He looked surprisingly good for such a thin lad. Not overly muscular, not overly hairy, just straight-as-an-arrow thin.

Penelope tore her eyes off Cal's striptease to observe her other students. Notably, it was the three naked young ladies who seemed to be relishing the undressing the most. It was if they were letting out one long, group sigh--finally a man is joining the team; some of the pressure is off us!

Sarcastic Ben was the one male who was watching the most intently. Dr. Stoddard noticed that Ben kept glancing back and forth from the three nude coeds to Cal. She was no psychiatrist but she knew that the self-described "big mouth Ben" did not like the attention that normally silent Cal was suddenly receiving.

Cal worked off his shoes and socks and threw them down. He unbelted his jeans and tugged them off, including his briefs.

He was stripping angrily, Penelope observed. She didn't think she had ever seen anything like that before.

When he was naked at last, Cal held out his arms as if to say "here I am!" Dr. Stoddard noted that Cal's penis was at "half staff" but as he was looking down at her, it began perceptively rising.

Penelope smiled. He was ready.

"Come down here, young man, and join me naked."

Dr. Stoddard was impressed with how young Cal carried himself. Nude males were initially over-aware of their floppy penises. Nude women obsessed over floppy breasts and the very idea of exposing their sacred pubes.

Cal was doing so well because he wasn't concentrating on his throbbing, rising cock. As he ascended the few stairs to the stage, he was only concentrating on his naked professor.

Dr. Stoddard was so happy with him. She took his hand and gripped it. They stood on the edge of the stage, facing the students.

The trustees were, of course, officially against students participating in any sexual activity. Dr. Penelope Stoddard was, of course, officially in favor of it.

"Naked only means your clothes are off; sex only means you're having fun with your clothes off. Let's get over it; let's enjoy our bodies while we're still able to," the doctor was fond of saying.

She faced her students, although she was addressing the naked youth.

"Calvin Albert Drew: before these witnesses: do you affirm that you are a consenting adult, and that any activities you chose to enjoy are consensual?"

"Yes."

"Do you understand that your participation--or lack there of--will not affect your grade in any way?"

"Yes."

Penelope smiled as she noted that he avoided saying "I do;" such a response would make this seem too much like nudist wedding vows.

She turned to him. She took both his hands in hers.

"What do you want, beautiful boy?"

"I want you, Ms. Penelope. I want all of you."

Now, he was clearly addressing her, but, from his attentions, he may as well have been addressing her vagina.

Penelope's breath left her... for just a moment. He looked into her eyes. Her eyes widened. He nodded.

Her breath returned. Dr. Stoddard led her naked student by the hand to her bed.

"Lie down," she said, softly. "I am going to take care of you."

Cal sprawled out on his back; his long legs out, wildly. Dr. Stoddard took his legs in her hands and pushed them together. She was molding his body to serve her own needs.

Cal didn't seem to mind. He was her beautiful boy.

Cal was so long and lean; his legs were more muscular than she had anticipated. His chest had the finest hair--she smoothed it down with her fingers and he sighed at her touch.

Then her hands went lower.

Cal was so hard. Dr. Stoddard leaned over him. She kissed the head of his penis.

"My big man," she said--speaking to his penis. It was as long and as lean as Cal. But its head--oh yes--that thick knob would feel so good, from the outside and all the way in.

"My beautiful boy," she said--speaking to her naked student.

"My lovely lady," he replied.

"I do love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," she whispered back.

Cal was special; he was her favorite. There was something about his shy smile, his beautiful eyes, his long lean look--and his witty intelligence. Dr. Stoddard had been setting him up for this... event. She hated to even think of the term 'grooming.'

That was why she chose him to deliver her breakfast--and sit nearly on top of her nakedness every morning. Sending poor Cal to pick up mediocre bagels and even worse coffee from half-dressed coeds was just to get him all sexed up.

Penelope knelt over him--a knee pressed against each of his hips. The best method, she mused, would be to simply do her squats--in this very special exercise, the goal would be to properly position herself to ride that pleasantly protruding tower of hardened man-flesh.

She almost laughed as she thought of her own squat exercise routine. Dr. Stoddard was not getting enough exercise jogging and walking endlessly around the outside of the building. So she had her own exercise bike, exercise mat, and free weights over in the far left corner. Penelope was increasing the weights she held in both hands as she squatted up and down.

Her increasingly powerful thighs were showing the results.

How fun it would be to bring young Cal back to her pod in private. She would have him lie back on her mat, she would grip her free weights--and she would combine her special exercises with some very special hot cock-riding.