Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Jeanette Comes to Stay

   Story Code: Mf(13)

   Synopsis: Daniel tells what happened when a 13 year old French girl
stays during the

   summer.



   With a young family most of us need to be careful with our finances, and
often seek various ways of increasing our income.  My wife works a couple
of evenings a week, normally Wednesday and Thursdays, on the bar at a local
Liberal Club.  We also found another way to augment our income, by using
our spare bedroom as accommodation for foreign students.  The language
school we used ran courses of from one week up to a whole year, depending
upon the age of the students and the reason they wanted to learn English.
One of the more popular courses was a four-week course for students who
were learning English at school in their own countries, who would attend
the language school during the day and were expected to spend time with the
host family out of school in order to practice and improve their spoken
English.

   We often accommodated students from this group, an as we had a young son
we specified that we preferred to have students, both boys and girls,
around the 12-15 age group.  In this way we thought that they would get
along with, and possibly play with, our son, especially the girls.  Almost
without exception the students lived in Europe, France, Italy and Spain
mostly.  Needless to say, I preferred to have girls staying with us.  The
fashion at that time was short skirts and dresses, and it was not unusual
for the odd view of their underwear!

   Before accepting any students we were given brief details about them,
their family and their schooling.  After we had been a host family for
about 18 months, we received details of a French girl called Jeanette, who
was 13, and would be staying with us for four weeks.  She had spent a
week's holiday the year before in London with her family, but this was the
first time she had been to the UK on her own.  She had a sister of 11, her
father was a director of medium sized supermarket chain and her mother was
a researcher who worked from home.  They lived in the suburbs of Paris and
Jeanette was in the top class of her year at private school.

   Students usually arrived on a Saturday, so they could get acclimatised
to the family they were staying with before going to school on the Monday.
We always found these pick up days busy when we had a student leaving us as
well, and the day we picked Jeanette up was no different.  We had to take
the outgoing student to the school for 9.00 am where they would be leaving
by coach, rush home to get the bedroom ready for the new arrival and get
back to the school by 3.00 pm to pick her up.  We usually both went,
together with our son.  We felt it was better for him to see the students
arrive and depart so he realised that they were only visitors.

   There was the usual melée of people at the school when we went to pick
Jeanette up.  At one end of the reception hall stood all the host families
and at the other end the students.  The accommodation officer called out
the surname of the host family and the name of the student, and they were
paired together.  I surveyed the students wondering which one was Jeanette.
There were about thirty students, the girls being tall, short, fat (or
should I say a little chubby), thin.  I could see some I hoped would be
Jeanette, and a couple who I definitely hoped would not be!

   "Family Brinston," called out the accommodation officer.  "Jeanette
Joubert."

   As we moved forward, so did Jeanette, who turned out to be one of the
girls I had spotted earlier.  She was pretty, about 5ft 2 inches tall, with
dark shoulder length hair.  She wore jeans and a t-shirt under her
unbuttoned lightweight jacket.

   We introduced ourselves.  "Hello, Jeanette," said my wife, "I'm Lorna,
this is Daniel and our son Peter."

   "Hello, I am Jeanette Joubert," said the young girl a little hesitantly,
not surprising as to her she was speaking in a foreign language and had
only just met us.  It must be quite daunting for a 13 year old girl to be
staying in a foreign country on her own with a family she does not know,
and be expected to speak English.  I didn't envy her and felt she was very
brave.

   On the way home we found that Jeanette's English was fairly good.  We
could understand her reasonably, and she could understand what we were
saying as long as we spoke slower than normal.  Once home we showed her
around the house and where her room was and left her to sort herself out
before our evening meal.

   We all seemed to get on well together and after our meal and Peter
having gone to bed Lorna, Jeanette and I watched television and chatted for
a bit.  I was quite surprised that even after this short time, Jeanette's
English was improving already.  However she was fairly tired after her
journey and went to bed reasonably early, after having a shower.

   The next day, Sunday, we took Jeanette for a car ride around the local
area and out to a country park where we had a walk and Peter enjoyed
himself in the play park.  We were rather pleased that he liked Jeanette,
and she had fun pushing him on the swing and helping him on the climbing
frame and other pieces of apparatus.  I also had fun.  Watching Jeanette
was a delight as today she was wearing some rather short shorts!

   During the first week Jeanette seemed to settle in very well.  She went
to school during the day and in the evening either spent the time with us
or at events organised by the school.  It was a rule of the school that
students under the age of 16 were not allowed out on their own, only on
organised events or with the host family.

   I had also noticed during the week that Jeanette appeared to be somewhat
of an exhibitionist.  On the Sunday after we were home from the country
park, as I was walking along the downstairs hallway I looked up as she
climbed the stairs, and she seemed to linger so I could see up her skirt.
The next day I went upstairs to get something from my bedroom, and as I
passed her room the door was open and she was brushing her hair in the
mirror, wearing only a green t-shirt, honey-coloured tights and white
panties.  No skirt or trousers.  I couldn't help but look in, and although
she noticed me looking at her, did nothing to cover herself or close the
door, just gave me a little smile.  After that I noticed that during her
stay with us she rarely closed the door, even when getting changed or ready
for bed.  Needless to say, I went upstairs on any pretext I could think of
to pass by her room.  Often there was nothing to see, she was just sitting
at the little desk in her room or lying on the bed, fully clothed.

   Lorna still carried on her job at the Liberal Club and although Jeanette
was at a dance organised by the school on the Wednesday (another host
family brought her home, as I was looking after Peter) she spent the
Thursday evening with me at home.

   Of course I wasn't alone with Jeanette.  Peter was upstairs in bed, but
he was one of those children who seemed to need a lot of sleep and I rarely
had to deal with him on those evenings when I was looking after him. 
However, as Jeanette was upstairs in her room I thought I would check on
Peter just to see if he was all right.  I didn't really need to do this and
as a rule I would rarely look in on him, but it gave me an excuse to go
upstairs in the hope that Jeanette's bedroom door would be open.  Yes, it
was open, but Jeanette was lying face down on her bed doing her homework,
still wearing the jeans and t-shirt she had on earlier.

   Back downstairs, I gave it a little while before I made the excuse to go
upstairs again.  I needed to go to the toilet, and although I would
normally use the downstairs loo, took the opportunity to once again see if
I could catch Jeanette in a state of partial undress.  Once again, no luck,
but just as I was going back downstairs, she caught my attention by asking
if I could explain something in her homework.  She was sitting on her bed,
and I went in and sat beside her while I helped her.  I couldn't help but
notice that we were sitting very close together, our thighs touching.  I
felt this was unusual as I'm sure that when helping previous students we
didn't sit quite so close.

   After helping her with her homework I went back downstairs, watching
television as before.  At about 10 o'clock I heard Jeanette go into the
bathroom and a few minutes later she came downstairs and into the room. 
Damn!  I thought.  She was wearing a light blue nightdress, and I wondered
if I had missed the opportunity to see her getting changed.  I had seen her
in this night-dress before when Lorna had been at home.  It didn't quite
cover her knees and it didn't look like she was wearing a bra, her nipples
pushing against the cotton material.

   "I'm going to bed now," she said.

   "Ok, goodnight, Jeanette.  Sleep well," I replied.  As she turned to go
out of the room, I could see the lines of a pair of panties under her
night-dress, and I decided I would try to have a look at them as she walked
up the stairs.  I got up from my chair quickly and followed her out of the
room.  She was already going up the stairs and I paused and looked up.

   Jeanette was quite a way up the stairs when I said "Bon nuit," in my
limited French.  She stopped with one foot on a higher stair than the other
and looked down.  I probably made it quite obvious I was trying to see up
her night-dress, but she didn't seem to mind.  In fact I wasn't trying, I
could actually see her panties.  They were white!

   She smiled at me and said "Bon nuit," then carried on up the stairs to
bed.  She had made it obvious she was letting me see up her night-dress,
and that smile indicated that she did not mind.

   During the second week, things did not change much.  We generally
followed the normal family routine, although Jeanette went shopping with
Lorna on the Saturday and we all went out on the Sunday, this time to a
different park than last week, but inevitably we ended up at a swing park
for Peter to enjoy himself.  Once again Jeanette was eager to help him on
the swings and other apparatus.  She was wearing tights and a short skirt
this time, and I was pleased to be able to get quite a few views right up
her skirt.  I also noticed a couple of other men (dads, I assumed, with
their children) also getting some pleasure!

   The week took on the normal household routine.  I was keeping an eye on
Jeanette to see how much of an exhibitionist she may be, and got quite a
few glimpses when she was wearing a skirt, or not wearing a skirt when she
was in her room.  One day I caught (not sure that's quite the right word)
her coming out of the bathroom in just a bra and panties.  I must admit I
was quite surprised, and even apologised to her, but she seemed completely
unfazed by the experience.  Had she engineered coming out of the bathroom
as she knew I was outside?  I hoped so.

   Thursday evening Lorna went to work as normal, and I was alone with
Jeanette in the house except for Peter in bed.  She was upstairs in her
room doing some homework and I was watching the television downstairs in
the lounge.  I suppose it was about half past eight when Jeanette appeared
downstairs with her homework in her hand.  Would I help her with it?  If my
memory serves me right she was having a problem with tenses, past, present
and future.  She sat down next to me on the settee, with the question book
on her lap, and she had to write the answers in the spaces in the book.

   I had noticed as she came into the room that she was wearing a red
tartan style short skirt, with honey tights and a yellow t-shirt type top.
As she sat down beside me she seemed to be showing an awful lot of leg
between her knees and the hem of her skirt.  I'm sure that if she didn't
have the book on her lap by moving forward a bit and turning to look at her
I would have been able to see right up her skirt.

   As I was helping her, we were naturally very close together, and I felt
a sort of frission between us.  Being so close to her I felt a little
nervous, just like I did when as a young teenager I was with a girl I
fancied.  Did I fancy Jeanette?  She was only 13 and I was 32!  As I was
helping and advising her, I let my hands wander a bit - just a touch of the
knee, or brushing my hand against her leg above the knee.  The feel of the
nylon of her tights was wonderfully exciting.  She didn't react in a
negative way, and I wondered if she was even aware I was touching her, her
homework taking all her attention.

   I decided to be a little bit bolder, and rested one of my hands on her
knee and left it there for maybe five or ten seconds.  She must have been
aware I was touching her, but even so she did not make any attempt at
pushing me away.  After removing my hand, I wondered what would happen if I
rested my hand against her leg.  I was becoming quite nervous - after all I
had never felt like touching a young girl like this before, and although we
had had a number of girls staying with us of a similar age, none of them
had such an effect on me as Jeanette.  Chemistry, I suppose.

   I left it a couple of minutes before I plucked up the courage to touch
her leg with my fingers.  Then I moved my hand up and down slowly, even
going high enough that I could feel her skirt and pushed it up just a
little bit.  Although there was a language barrier between us, I looked at
her as I did this and said "Ok?" and received the replay "Oui, oh I mean
yes".  I gather from this that she knew I was touching her on purpose and
that she did not have any real problem in me doing it.  I just hoped that
she wasn't saying yes because she was a visitor in a foreign country, but
because she really did not mind.

   Jeanette was writing the answers in her book in pencil and when she made
a mistake would use an eraser to rub out the pencil and put in the correct
answer.  She had made one mistake and reached in her lap for her eraser,
but it wasn't there.  We looked around where we were both sitting, but
didn't notice it.  I asked her to stand up and she did so, turning round as
she did so to look where she had been sitting.  As we had been sitting very
close together she was standing right by me, and I don't know what
possessed me but I took hold of the hem of her skirt and lifted it up,
saying as I did so, "Is it up here?" In retrospect what a stupid thing to
say, or do for that matter.  I didn't just lift her skirt up a little way,
I lifted it right up above her waist and gazed for what seemed like ages at
what I took to be white panties covered in those honey-coloured tights, but
in reality it could not have been more that about five seconds.  But in
that short time I took in the way the seam down the front of her tights
vanished between her legs; how her panties hugged her body and the
protuberance of her mound.  Was that mound the shape of her body, or did
she just have a lot of hair down there, or both?  Whatever, she did not try
to stop me looking at her.  I was sure now that she was definitely an
exhibitionist, after all, why otherwise would she not stop me lifting up
her skirt.

   After this little episode, we found the eraser on the settee, and she
sat back down next to me and we finished her homework.  She took her book
upstairs and I thought that maybe she would stay in her room.  After a
couple of minutes I heard her go into the bathroom, and thought she was
getting ready for bed.  However, shortly she came back down and instead of
sitting in the armchair she usually used when in the lounge, came and sat
back down next to me, as close as she had been when doing her homework. 
She had not changed ready for bed, but was still in the same clothes as
earlier.

   We were both watching television.  I had not turned it off when helping
her earlier, and with her sitting so close to me I was hardly aware of what
we were actually watching.  As I had done earlier I placed my hand on her
knee, and felt that lovely nylon covering.  Again she made no attempt to
stop me.  Her short skirt enabled a lot of leg to be on show, and I'm sure
if it was any shorter I would have been able to see her crotch.  It did
occur to me that she might be playing some sort of game with me.  Was she
leading me on?  This was something I had not even contemplated until that
evening, but I seemed powerless to stop myself.  Looking back, and with
what we now know about child abuse, I was close to crossing the line, but
in those days it was still something we knew little about.

   Whilst we were watching the television, we were talking, and Jeanette's
English was pretty good, although I had to say things perhaps in two
different ways before she fully understood what I was saying.  But I won't
bore you, the reader, with the small talk.

   I took my hand away from Jeanette's knee and then put my arm along the
back of the settee, before moving it down and around her shoulder.  As I
did this she rested her head against my shoulder.  "Do you like this?" I
asked her.

   "Oui, yes, it is ... it is ... nice," Jeanette said.

   I wondered what I was doing, cuddling this 13 year old girl I had only
known for a few days, especially since during the evening she had let me
lift up her skirt.  The image of seeing her showing off what was under her
skirt had burned itself into my memory, and I so wanted to have another
look.  I put my hand onto her knee again and once again there was no
resistance from Jeanette.  Then I took my arm from around her shoulder and
put that hand on her other knee, and gently pulled her knees apart.  He
skirt was so short that as I was doing this her crotch came into view and I
saw those panties again.  I let go of her knees and reached for her skirt,
and pushed it up as far as I could get it.  Jeanette still had her legs
open.

   With that Jeanette pushed my away and I thought I had gone too far.  I
was surprised therefore when she stood up and put her hands in the
elasticated waistband of her skirt and pulled it down and stepped out of
it. Then she sat back down next to me and I put my arm around her, and
again she put her head on my shoulder.  Sitting next to me without her
skirt on, there was no doubt that she was an exhibitionist.  I knew all
this was wrong, but I was powerless to stop myself.  I wasn't sure who was
manipulating who.  I had started by encouraging her to show her underwear,
and now she was showing her underwear without any help from me.

   I asked Jeanette, "Do you like me to see your panties?"

   "Like this?" she replied, indicating that she didn't have a skirt on by
opening her legs a little.

   "Yes," I confirmed.

   "Yes, I like." Then after a few moments she continued, "but not when
Lorna or Peter are here.  I take off skirt for you only."

   "Thank you, Jeanette, you are very good.  Lorna would not like it."

   Just then I noticed the time.  Lorna would be home shortly, and so I
said to Jeanette that she ought to go upstairs to bed and I watched as she
picked up her skirt and took it with her out of the lounge and up to her
room.

   I really wanted to follow her, with the hope of seeing her maybe
undressing, but thought I had better not.  I was beginning to realise that
although I had started the events of the evening, Jeanette was instrumental
in carrying it on, and I thought that I would let her lead events, if
indeed anything else happened.  I hoped it would, and I would try to
encourage it, but only if Jeanette was willing.

   It was not long before Lorna arrived home.  "Did you have a good
evening?" she asked.

   "Yes, watched telly a bit.  Jeanette wanted some help with her homework.
Not a peep from Peter."

   "Is Jeanette in bed?"

   "Maybe.  She went up to her room, haven't seen her for a while." I
didn't tell my wife any lies, but then again, I didn't tell her the whole
truth.

   "I'll just pop up and check on Peter," said my wife, and she left the
room and went upstairs.  A few seconds later I could hear my wife talking
to whom I assumed was Jeanette.  There appeared to be a fair amount of
movement upstairs, and a few minutes later Lorna returned, having changed
into her pajamas.

   I'm going to go up to bed now, I've had a busy evening and feel quite
tired," said Lorna.  Are you coming up?"

   "Yes, shortly," I said.

   "Oh, I haven't had any washing from Jeanette and I've asked her to put
her laundry outside her door."

   "Ok."

   "It's a good job you weren't upstairs just now," said Lorna.

   "Why's that?" I queried.

   "Jeanette came out of her room to go to the bathroom in just her
underwear.  I expect she would have been embarrassed if she'd bumped into
you up there."

   No she wouldn't, I thought, and it wouldn't have been the first time I'd
seen her like that!.  I wondered if she had thought it was me coming up the
stairs and had purposely gone to the bathroom in her undies.  "Pity I
missed that!" I responded boldly.

   "I bet you are," said Lorna in a jokey sort of way.  "She's a pretty
little thing, and will break many men's hearts in the future.  Anyway, I'm
off to bed now." With that Lorna went upstairs leaving me to think about
the evening, and missing seeing Jeanette in her underwear again.  But the
strange thing was, Lorna did not seem annoyed in any way that she was
walking around upstairs partially dressed.  Admittedly Lorna and I often
walked around like that (not when the students were there, though) but then
we were married and our child was only six years old.

   I heard Lorna go in and out of the bathroom, and then go into our room.
After a few minutes I turned the TV off, checked around downstairs, and
went upstairs myself.  As requested, Jeanette had put some washing outside
her room, and I noticed a pair of white panties amongst it.

   I couldn't resist picking those panties up, feeling the cotton fabric,
and wondered if these were the pair she had been wearing during the
evening. They may only have been an ordinary pair of white panties, but
because of whose they were they were special to me.  Whilst I was handling
them, standing there, I noticed that they were a little damp.  I wasn't
sure whether this dampness was sexual excitement (if she had been wearing
them when she took her skirt off) or where she had leaked after going to
the toilet.  Whichever it was, I could feel myself hardening inside my
trousers.  Then I lifted the panties up to my nose and sniffed them.  WOW!
The smell of adolescent female wafted into my nostrils and I felt myself
harden even more.  What I really felt like doing was to go into the
bathroom and relieve myself by hand whilst sniffing those wonderful
panties, but somehow with my wife only feet away I was a little nervous of
doing so.

   I bent down to put the panties back and then noticed that were some
other pairs in the pile as well.  The thought came to me that surely she
would not miss one pair of panties, and instead of returning them to the
pile of washing I slipped them into my pocket.

   I went into the bathroom to have a quick wash, and go to the loo.  As I
stood there infront of the toilet my cock was still quite hard, and I
realised I just had to relieve myself.  I pulled the panties out of my
pocket and sniffed them again.  My cock suddenly rose, and I felt harder
than I had for ages, even with my wife.  I just had to do the job properly,
so I undid the belt of my trousers and lowered them to my feet together
with my underpants.  I then wrapped those panties around my cock and
started rubbing gently.  I could feel the slight dampness next to my skin,
which made the sensation feel even more intense.  I made sure that the tip
of my cock was well clear of the cotton material, as I did not want to
dirty the material with spunk.  As I rubbed the panties up and down on my
cock, I thought back to when I had lifted Jeanette's skirt up and when
shortly afterwards she had taken off her skirt.  The thoughts encouraged me
to start rubbing faster until finally with the greatest intensity I shot my
load into the pan of the toilet.  I seemed to spurt time after time, it was
the most satisfying wank I had ever had.  The thought suddenly crossed my
mind that I would like to do exactly what I had just done, but with
Jeanette watching, preferably naked.  But I knew that was only imagination;
there was no way that was going to happen!

   Having finished shooting off, I had to stand for ages until I could
actually have a wee, and after I had wiped myself off and flushed the loo,
I pulled up my pants and trousers, and left the bathroom.  Before going
into my bedroom, I put the panties back onto the pile of washing, hoping I
had put them where they had been originally.  When I was in my bedroom I
was gratified to see that Lorna was already asleep.  Thank goodness, I
would not have to make any excuse not to have sex with her tonight.  The
intenseness of my recent wank would probably mean I could not perform for a
few days!!

   The next morning I was having breakfast with my wife and son when
Jeanette came down for hers.  I was pleased that there seemed to be no
awkwardness between her and either myself, after she having taken off her
skirt the previous evening, or with Lorna who had caught her in her
underwear upstairs.  I hoped that Jeanette and I would be able to spend
some time on our own again, but the next time Lorna would be out for the
evening would be the following Wednesday, nearly a week away.  I also knew
that on Wednesday evenings there was usually an activity for the students,
so barring anything unusual happening, such as Lorna being called in for an
extra evening, it would not be until the next Thursday that we would be on
our own again.  Of course there was no guarantee that Jeanette would want
to carry on with her exhibitionism, but I had high hopes as the week
progressed.

   As I have said previously, Jeanette had lingered on the stairs letting
me look up her skirt and often left her bedroom door open when getting
changed.  During the week this continued, and I contrived to take advantage
of the opportunities if they arose.  Jeanette did not always wear skirts or
dresses, often wearing jeans or trousers.  But she was certainly not shy
when she had the opportunity to be exhibitionist.  For instance on the
following Sunday afternoon we all went out to the play park again so that
Peter could enjoy himself on the various pieces of apparatus.  Jeanette
wore a skirt and this time no tights, as it was particularly warm.  She had
shown in the time she had been with us that she was good with Peter, and he
seemed to like the attention she gave him.  Jeanette took Peter to play on
the apparatus and in doing so I could tell she had light blue panties on.
For instance, she seemed not to be bothered about what she was showing as
she was helping Peter on the climbing frame.  She was not the only teenage
girl wearing a skirt at the park, but she was the only one who gave more
than a couple of glimpses.  Exhibitionist she was, definitely.

   Later, when we were at home, Lorna was in the kitchen preparing tea, and
I was in the lounge with Jeanette and Peter.  Peter had pulled Jeanette
onto the floor to play with his toy cars with him, and I could not but help
notice that she was letting me have a good look up her skirt.  Of course
Peter would have been unaware, but if Jeanette's legs were apart or skirt
high up her legs, when I caught her eye she would smile at me.  She knew
she was showing off, and knew I was looking.  Little minx.  Lorna came into
the room a couple of times while Jeanette was on the floor, once she closed
her legs, but the other time left them open, showing her panties.

   During the evening, after Peter had been put to bed, Jeanette went
upstairs, leaving Lorna and I in the lounge.  Although the television was
on, we were talking, and the conversation got round to Jeanette.

   "How do you think Jeanette is enjoying herself here?" said Lorna.

   "You mean here in this house, or here in this country?" I asked in
return.

   "I meant in England, I think she likes it here, and I'm sure she likes
being here with us."

   "Yes, and she and Peter seem to like each other, " I said.

   "They do," said Lorna, "and what about you, do you like her?"

   I wondered where this conversation was going.  Did she have any inkling
of what had happened last Thursday, or was this just an innocent question?
"Yes, I like her.  She's polite, and not really any trouble, not like some
of the students we've had.  What about you?

   "Yes, I like her too.  She's quite charming in some ways, she reminds me
of myself when I was her age."

   "How do you mean?"

   "Like with the clothes she wears.  Like wearing skirts when going to the
play park.  Did you notice this afternoon, she was moving around on the
climbing frame as if she were wearing trousers."

   "How could I not notice?" I felt I had to brave this one out, go along
with the conversation, see where it was going.  "Why, did you used to do
the same sort of thing?"

   "Sometimes.  My friend and I used to go to the park and purposely let
boys look up our skirts or dresses."

   "You've never told me that before," I exclaimed.  "And I bet men looked
as well."

   "I suppose so, but it was the boys we were keen on."

   "And you think Jeanette is doing the same."

   "Possibly, although as she is French, and they have a different attitude
to things like that there, it may be just natural."

   "Maybe." I was sure it was not quite as easy as that.  After all, surely
not all French girls take their skirts off like Jeanette had done. 
Certainly we had not had any stay with us before who had done that.

   "And you had a good view this afternoon when she was playing with Peter.
I think she was letting you look up her skirt on purpose."

   This made me very uncomfortable.  She was showing me on purpose, but I
couldn't admit it outright.

   "Do you mind me looking then?" I said, stupidly.

   "Not really, I suppose.  I think most men would look, and she is very
attractive.  In fact I thought she looked very nice the other day when she
came out of her room in her underwear.  It reminded me of the times my
friend and I used to do things like that when we went for a sleepovers. 
There was always the possibility of being seen."

   "You really were a naughty girl when you were younger.  What sort of
things did you do?  Were you ever seen?"

   "Oh, yes," said Lorna, somewhat excitedly.  "That was part of the
excitement.  It wasn't so good if we were seen by our mums, but was fun if
our dads or brothers saw us.  We would sit carelessly when wearing a skirt
or dress, or walk around upstairs in our undies, or even topless.  We
thought we were daring if we undressed completely in our room."

   "Do you think that's what Jeanette's doing, but just on her own?" I
asked, hoping to sound innocent.

   "As I said, maybe.  I've also noticed she leaves her bedroom door open a
lot.  I've seen her in there getting changed.  I expect you've noticed that
as well."

   "Actually, yes."

   "Well, just don't take too much advantage of it.  After all, she is only
13 and we don't want her reporting to the school that she is staying with a
peeping tom!  We need the money these students bring in."

   I agreed with Lorna, but as Jeanette had seemed to almost initiate what
happened last Thursday, I thought, or rather hoped, that the school would
not find out.  I was looking forward to this coming Thursday when Lorna
would be out again, hoping that Jeanette would want to show her skills at
exhibitionism again.  After that there would only be one more Thursday
before Jeanette went back home, and it seemed unlikely that there would be
any other days when Lorna would be out.

   I felt I was becoming almost besotted with Jeanette.  I was eager to be
with her alone again and the week dragged through until at last it was
Thursday again.  As in previous weeks, Lorna went to work in the evening,
and after having put Peter to bed I was feeling nervous, wondering whether
Jeanette would want to spend her evening, or at least part of it, with me
again.  After all, we had said nothing to each other about the previous
Thursday, and there had only been two or three occasions during the week
when I had been able to catch a glimpse of her underwear.

   I suppose I must have been downstairs watching the television for about
half and hour when Jeanette came into the room.  I was pleased to see her,
obviously, but disappointed as she was wearing jeans and a t-shirt.  I was
hoping that she would at least wear a skirt, as last week, and perhaps a
blouse.  I tried not to show my disappointment, as she came and sat next to
me on the settee.

   I asked her if she had any homework, and she told me she had finished
it. We were watching the television, but also talking about various things.
Her English had become very good.  I was still feeling nervous, but was
thinking that perhaps nothing would happen tonight.  Time seemed to go so
slowly.

   Jeanette was interested in the programme which was on, a nature
programme had started as we were talking.  She was fairly tired and rested
her head against my shoulder.  Rather hesitantly I put my arm around her
shoulders and cuddled her into me.  She had no problem with me doing this,
and snuggled around so she was comfortable.  It wasn't until this time that
I realised that she was not wearing anything under her t-shirt.  I cannot
for the life of me understand how I had not noticed before.  From the
position she was in I could see down the top of her t-shirt and I could
clearly see the mounds of her breasts.

   We sat there for some time snuggled together and a couple of times I
managed to move my arm so that my hand brushed the outside of her t-shirt.
I was not really touching her breasts, just brushing the one I could reach.
I wanted to be a bit more adventurous and actually put my hand on one of
her breasts, but it was one thing her letting me look at her in her
underwear, another thing actually touching her!  However, I needn't have
worried, as very shortly afterwards she moved herself round a bit and I
could feel her left breast firmly against my hand.  She must have been
aware!  My arm was starting to ache a little, so I moved around a bit and
she readjusted herself.  In this new position I once again had a view down
her t-shirt, and becoming more brazen than I had been so far used my other
hand to pull the neck of her t-shirt away from her.  As I did this I said
to her, "That's nice," making sure she knew I was having a good look down.

   "Thank you," she said.  Very polite!  She obviously like compliments.

   I let go of her t-shirt and we continued to cuddle until the end of the
programme, brushing her breasts a couple of times, and once having another
obvious look down her t-shirt.  She certainly didn't mind!

   Now that the programme had ended she said, "I'm going to get ready for
bed."

   Ok, I thought, so nothing else is going to happen tonight.  Perhaps it
was too much to hope for that she would take some of her clothes off.

   "Ok," I said, disappointed.

   "Then I come back down?" she said in a questionable sort of way.

   Was she asking me if she could come back down in her night-dress, or was
she stating that she was going to come back down?

   "Yes," I said eagerly.  Then a thought struck me.  "You can get ready
for bed down here if you want to."

   Jeanette thought for a few moments.  "Ok," she said and went upstairs.

   I needed to go to the toilet but I thought it better to use the
downstairs loo, in case Jeanette wanted to use the one upstairs.  The
thought of watching her get ready for bed (I assumed she would let me
watch) made me excited.

   A few minutes later she came back down, still dressed as she was before,
and carrying her night-dress and a pair of white panties as well.  This
looked like it was going to be fun.  She was obviously going to put a clean
pair of panties on which would mean she would have to take those she was
wearing off (assuming she was wearing some - I hadn't actually got around
to checking during the evening!).  But she may be clever, like a lot of
woman are.  Even if she didn't hide behind me, all she had to do was put
her night-dress on and take her jeans and panties off underneath and then
put the clean ones on.  I hoped she was not going to do that!

   "See, here I am," she said with a smile.

   "So you're going to get ready for bed now?"

   "Yes.  Will you watch me?"

   "Do you want me to watch you?" I asked, hopefully.

   Ponderingly she said, "Mmmm ... Oui.  Yes."

   With that she kicked her slippers off her feet and undid the button at
the waist of her jeans.  She was facing me directly, and even though she
had not done much yet, I was starting to feel uncomfortable in my lower
regions!  The she pulled the zipper of her jeans down and lowered them to
the ground, stepping out of them.  She stood in front of me in her t-shirt
and pink panties.  Grabbing the bottom of her t-shirt she then lifted it up
to just below her breasts and stopped.  Oh no, I thought, she's not going
to do it, she's not going to take her top off.  But she did.  She carried
on lifting it up and over her head, and taking her arms out of the short
sleeves.  She had nothing on underneath and those lovely breasts of hers
were on view.

   She didn't appear to be at all embarrassed in being topless in front of
me, not for a moment trying to cover herself.  I'm not an expert in young
girls, but her breasts appeared to be fairly big for a 13 year old - I'd
seen women with smaller!  They were fully rounded and it would not be long
before she would be able to push them together.  Her areolas were dark with
a very pronounced nipple sticking out from the middle of each one.  This
girl was excited!  She stood in front of me completely unashamed as my eyes
feasted on her body.  But even better was when she wiggled them around a
bit.  I was mesmerised, and she knew it.

   "Very nice," I stuttered, wishing my growing erection in my trousers
would subside.

   "You like?" she asked unnecessarily.

   "Of course - you are very sexy?" I just couldn't help myself - I had to
tell her.

   The television was still on and there was some dance music playing. 
Jeanette started to dance to the music, gyrating her hips, her breasts
wobbling and her hair flounced from side to side.  My god, what a sight. 
And I was getting in a state as well.  I was becoming even more
uncomfortable and said, "I've got to go to the toilet - just stay like
that." I rushed to the loo and just had to relieve myself.  Jeanette was
having such an effect on me that I only had to rub a half dozen times
before I shot my load down the toilet pan.

   I returned to the lounge and got what must be one of the biggest shocks
of my life.  Jeanette was not just still topless, she had taken off her
panties and was dancing around the room naked.  Although I had just
ejaculated, I was starting to get hard again.  I sat down, and Jeanette
stopped dancing and faced me about five feet away, hands on her hips and
legs about eighteen inches apart.  She smiled again at me as my eyes took
in her naked body.  "You like?" she asked.

   "Oh, yes, yes, yes.  Beautiful," was all I could get out.  She was
actually enjoying showing me her body.  Between her legs was a bush of dark
hair.

   "Can I sit down next to you?" asked Jeanette.

   "Yes," I replied.

   "You like me like this - how do you say - naked?"

   "I like it very much - do you like it?"

   "Yes.  It is nice being ... naked," she replied.

   "Have you done this before - been naked with other people?"

   "Oh, yes," she confirmed.

   I didn't know how far I could go in questioning her, but I continued,
"Who with?"

   "With the family of my friend - they go to, er, er, naked beach."

   "Nudist beach we call it."

   "Ah, thank you.  And also with my sister and boyfriends."

   "Lucky them," I replied.  I didn't feel it fair to ask her any more,
although I was intrigued by the mention of her sister.

   Whilst I was enjoying having a naked 13 year old sitting next to me, I
was concerned that we shouldn't really be doing this, and I said to
Jeanette, "I think you ought to put your nightress on now, don't you?"

   "Perhaps," she said, and got up, found her clean panties and put them on
before putting her night-dress on.  Exhibitionist to the last, I thought.

   She sat back next to me and I said to her, "You enjoyed that, didn't
you?"

   "Yes, I did."

   "But you know you must not tell anyone - not Lorna or anyone at the
school."

   "I know - it is our secret."

   "Yes," and in a strange way I felt that she actually meant it, not just
saying it to please me.

   Time was getting on and Jeanette was starting to get tired.  "I go to
bed now." She stood up, and surprised me by giving me a kiss goodnight on
the lips.  It did not feel in any way inappropriate, just friendly love. 
She put her slippers on and picked up her clothes and went upstairs to her
room.

   Sitting on my own in the room, I turned the television off.  It was so
quiet, and I thought back over the evening.  Seeing Jeanette naked was a
big surprise, I thought I might be lucky just to see her in her underwear.
I was also feeling tired and closed my eyes.

   I was woken by becoming aware of someone in the room.  It was Lorna and
I guess I must have been asleep for over an hour.

   "Wakey, wakey, sleepy head," she said.

   "Sorry," I said, "I was really tired."

   "Good evening?"

   It couldn't have been much better!  "It was ok."

   "Was Peter all right?"

   "Didn't hear a peep out of him." Truth to be told I had forgotten all
about checking in on him.

   "What about Jeanette?  Did you see her?"

   Yes, and how!  "She came down for a bit and watched tv." No lie, just
not the whole truth.

   "Let's go up to bed," said Lorna, "I'm shattered."

   So we went up to bed and again I fell asleep with the thoughts of the
evening uppermost in my mind.

   It was so strange the next morning when Jeanette came down for
breakfast. She was bright, like she was most mornings, and there didn't
appear to be any recognition between us as to what had happened the
previous evening.  That situation did not change for the whole week,
although a couple of times Jeanette indicated to me when Lorna was not
around that she was going to get changed, on the Sunday evening when she
got ready for bed and on the Monday when she got home from school.  On both
occasions Lorna was in the kitchen and luckily she stayed downstairs while
I watched Jeanette get changed.  Each time I stood at the door in case I
heard Lorna coming up the stairs, and each time Jeanette stripped
completely before putting different clothes or her night-dress on.

   Although this happened, we didn't actually talk about it, not that we
had much chance with Lorna around.  It was just something which happened. I
was once again looking forward to Thursday, which would be the last time we
would be alone before she went home on Saturday.  I was sure that if
Jeanette was willing, and by her past performance she would be, she would
undress again for me, maybe dance around naked again, maybe let me cuddle
her while she was naked.

   However, my hopes were thwarted on the Wednesday when in conversation
Linda mentioned that Jeanette had started her period.  Well that would put
paid to seeing her naked again, but I was hoping she would at least get
topless, and hopefully take everything off except her panties.

   Thursday evening came and Lorna went to work and Peter was tucked up in
bed.  What was going to happen with Jeanette, if anything.  When I had put
Peter to bed, Jeanette's door was unusually closed, and I thought that
maybe she wasn't feeling great and had gone to sleep.  I went downstairs
prepared for a lonely evening.

   After a while I heard movement upstairs.  I didn't think it was Peter,
so it must have been Jeanette going to the bathroom.  A few minutes later
she came downstairs and joined me in the lounge.

   "Hello," I said, "I didn't know if you were coming down tonight."

   "I wanted to," she said with a smile.

   We continued talking for quite a time, and the television was on which
took our attention as well.  Her English was really good now, and I was
nervous about broaching the subject of her taking any of her clothes off.
Not that she was wearing much.  She had on a multicoloured striped
strapless band which just about covered her breasts, but showed off their
shape beautifully, and white shorts which showed off her legs.  I didn't
think she was wearing a bra.

   Whilst talking she leant against me again, and I put my arm around her.
I would have liked to have a feel of her breasts, but thought that maybe I
shouldn't, although with the top she was wearing it looked like an
invitation.  She was certainly making her breasts noticeable.  Eventually I
plucked up the courage to let my hand drift toward her left breast, and
brushed it a couple of times.  She didn't stop me and the second time she
uttered a quiet "Mmmm".

   Becoming bolder I rested my hand on her breast.  She did not knock it
away and let me keep it there.  Similarly she did not stop me when I
started to move my hand slightly, massaging her breast gently.

   "Do you like that?" I asked, seeking approval from her.

   "C'est bon.  It's good."

   I carried on fondling her.  Then I started to push her top down.  As it
was strapless it would move either up or down.  It was easier for me to try
to push it down.  Again, she did not stop me, and I thought maybe she would
let me push it right down to expose her breasts.  Gently I eased the top
down and then reached over with my other hand to push the other side of it.
Slowly I could see more of her breasts, and managed to push the top right
down and her breasts were free of the constriction of the top.  They looked
beautiful, and for the first time I felt those naked breasts.

   "Ok?" I asked Jeanette.

   "Mmm.  Yes.  You know I can't be naked today."

   "Yes," I said, indicating that I knew her condition.

   "But I can take my shorts off.  I keep my unders on."

   "Yes, that's fine," I assured her.

   She then moved away from me and stood up.  She took off her shorts and
she had dark red panties on.  She also took off the top I had pushed down,
so she was completely topless wearing just her panties.

   When she had done this she sat down again next to me and grabbed my arm
and put it round her shoulders.  It was really exciting cuddling this 13
year old topless girl and it was not long before I was feeling her breasts
again.  Her nipples were sticking out and I rolled each of them with thumb
and finger.

   "I like that," she murmered.

   I continued playing with her while we were watching the television,
although I don't think either of us were paying particular attention.  When
the program we were watching finished I had to go to the loo again, and had
to relieve myself as had before.  Jeanette also took the opportunity to go
to the bathroom upstairs.

   I was back on the settee before her and the next programme had started
before she returned.  Thankfully, she was still topless with just her
panties on.  She came and sat by me again and we cuddled while watching the
programme.  Needless to say I did fondle her a bit but I think we were both
happy just cuddling.

   When the programme had finished Jeanette went up to bed, and once again
I had a goodnight kiss.  This was the last time I would spend time on my
own with her.  Life would get back to normal now, I supposed.  I couldn't
see the same sort of things happening with any other foreign students we
had.

   On the Saturday morning Lorna, Peter and I took Jeanette back to the
school for the journey back home.  I looked at the other host families and
the girls they had and wondered if any of them had had similar experiences
over the last four weeks.  I doubted it.  We said goodbye to Jeanette and
she gave me a lovely kiss and pressed her chest hard against me as she did
it.  We all waved her goodbye and made our way home to prepare for the next
student, a 12 year old Italian girl, but I was sure nothing would happen
with her.  After all, Jeanette was the first, and I assumed would be the
only, student anything had happened with.

   About two months later we received a letter from Jeanette's parents.  It
had arrived whilst I was at work, so hadn't seen it when it was delivered.

   When I got home, after the usual pleasantries, Lorna said, "Hey, you
remember that French girl we had, Jeanette.  We had a letter from her
parents today."

   "Oh yes," I said, somewhat concerned at what was coming next.

   "They wrote to say how much Jeanette enjoyed staying with us, and how
kind we were to her."

   "That's nice," I said, relieved.

   "Anyway, they say that Jeanette wants to come again next year, and also
her sister, and can they stay with us.  What do you think?"

   I was a bit dumbfounded by this.  Jeanette AND her sister!  "Both at the
same time?" I didn't want to appear too eager.

   "It sounds like it."

   "Yes, why not?  And I dare say Peter will enjoy seeing Jeanette again."
And I will, I thought.

   "Ok," agreed Lorna, "I'll write back saying that it is ok with us, but
they will have to tell the school when they book their places."

   Roll on next summer!

   THE END

   FROM THE AUTHOR: I hope you enjoyed reading this story.  I would
appreciate any comments you may like to make.  It is always useful to know
what readers think of my stories, and whilst I have many ideas for future
stories, I am always open to suggestions.  Thank you.