Paying Arielli some attention.

Time to set some of those primal ideas into motion.

A clap rattles the air, drawing back the attention of our surreptitiously -- and in some corners, so obviously you could glare at it through the wall -- distracted audience.

"Enough about Cartesian products! It's time to look at some very special articles." Mr. Marks turns his eyes to a certain side of the room, when his eyes settle on the just-right, optimally suitable subject. "Arielli, I think you'd be a great volunteer. Why don't you come up to the front of the class?"

When she realizes she's being called on, the girl breezily removes her hands from her 'lap' and looks up at the teacher. Recomposing herself, she begins to open her mouth when a pulsing glow colors her pupil and her words melt away.

The class and I watch her stand up, quietly clearing her throat. "S-sure." She goes to the front of the class, shoulders slightly bunched together, and shyly looks around. Then, following a sturdy breath, she looks down and hesitantly wedges one soft finger into her jeans before applying a more appropriate degree of ****. Her spare finds her zipper, tugging it down. The waist of her pants demurely loosen over her hips. Then, in front of all 28 bored classmates, the teenager cleanly peels her jeans away from her legs after kicking her casual skating-style sneakers off.

"Does... does anyone want to explore my legs' scent?" She hangs the jeans up in front of her with both hands as the class blinks. "I... I promise I smell nice."

I sight at the cricket-embracing room. Time to help my not-as-kink-inclined mates out.

"I'll take it, Arielli!" suddenly insists an honors student.

"Here, right here," impatiently taps a jock.

"I want your pants! I want your tight, fitting pants..!"

Hands in every row jerk up as if on strings. I nod approvingly.

That's more like it!

Arielli goes down to the middle column, now about half-naked from the waist down, showing her smooth, cute legs and ass. Pimply faced Paul takes her jeans from her, loudly vocalizes his thanks, and gives them a sniff from waist to cuff.

When she returns to the front of the room, she twists forward. Her hands briskly move to the next target, her unbuttoned jacket, which ends up on the front desk. Underneath is her thin-layered, white long-sleeved tee. It is quickly lifted over her bellybutton, and then her head.

Finally, the inexplicable code of dress for any civilly resembling society is now discarded and spat.

Before us stands Arielli's bra-encased tits and bare torso, one leg timidly bent over the other as her arm covers up part of her right boob, only to make it look even more squishily appetizing from the act.

An appetite well justified indeed. Her chest is modestly sized and nice enough to snuggle into. Below, her belly is taut for a girl of her figure, and despite being no model, she has a fresh, cozy looking set of skin that would look just fine on a pin-up page.

Not bad, Arielli, I scratch the back of my hand, I've never seen you showing off this much skin since never. You actually look pretty good!

The girl swings her hair back into place and shivers a little as she holds her shirt up to the class.

"N-now, time for my shirt. Who wants to take the article I've had hugging my body all morning so far..?"

Another cascade of hands reach for the sky. She walks to the front row to hand Conner her top, and awkwardly makes her way back to the front of the room, now unguarded and left exposed, in nothing but her plain, matching blue undies and white socks, to all her watching, smirk-concealing acquaintances and classmates.

"I... I... um..." stammering, she looks at the teacher.