MEDITERRANEAN HOLIDAY (CHAPTER 1) This adventure took place at the end of last summer, just before we went back to school. We have almost two months’ holiday every summer, and every summer is typically Mediterranean, long and hot and dry. Usually our family went somewhere on holiday, and we enjoyed the seaside best. This summer my parents planned to spend the last two weeks of the summer in London. I was none too keen on this, as on our last visit there six years earlier it had rained almost from start to finish. My sister Jenny is too young to remember that, though, or anything much else about London, and she was excited about seeing all the famous places she had read about for the first time that she could remember. Marina’s family and mine had become good friends, and we were having dinner together at our house at the start of the holidays, with Marina’s nine-year-old brother Scott there as well, when my dad mentioned to the visitors of our plans to go to London. Marina suddenly looked bitterly disappointed, and I soon found out why. Her father responded, “Well, that’s a great pity. We’re going down to Fusari at the same time, and we had been planning to invite Roy and Jenny to come with us.” If I were to have a choice, to me there would be no choice, so to speak. I suppose London is not always rainy, but there was no comparison with going to the seaside at Fusari with Marina. “Hey, Dad,” I burst out immediately. “Do I *have* to go to London with you?” My dad looked rather taken aback, but then he said, “Well, I suppose not, if you’d prefer to go to Fusari . . ?” I assured him that I did, so both he and my mum agreed, and Marina immediately became radiant again. Jenny was also offered the choice, which was much harder for her. In the end she played for safety, deciding to go along with my parents to London. Scott used to be her boyfriend but she has lost interest in him recently, otherwise I’m sure she would have chosen to come with us. Knowing her, the adults decided to give her a few days before deciding definitely, but it was then that Marina suggested, “Dad, if Jenny decides not to come, perhaps we could ask Shelley along instead? You said you planned to book a place for six . . ?” So it was that Shelley and I were to join Marina and her family at Fusari. Fusari is less than two hundred kilometres away to the south, so we drove down the day before the rest of my family left for London. Marina’s father is pretty rich, although Marina is certainly not spoiled, and the four of us - Marina and Scott, Shelley and I - sat together in the back of their large car as we drove down to the coast. Fusari is not a very large town but it is a popular holiday resort. Marina’s dad belongs to a club that owns villas in holiday areas and rents them out to members, so we were going to one of these, situated almost on the beach front. Actually, when we got there we found it was two of these - instead of booking one place for six, Marina’s parents had decided that since they wanted to do some entertaining of friends they would book two villas side by side, taking one themselves and the other for the four of us. We would have breakfast with them, sometimes we could go out with them during the day if we wanted, and if they were entertaining during the evening we would get a meal allowance from them so we could go out and eat at a restaurant. We were all delighted and excited by these arrangements, as we could be as independent as we liked. We arrived just before lunch on that first day and spent an hour getting settled in. Without consulting us, Marina’s parents had allocated us rooms in our villa by sex, Scott and myself in one room and Marina and Shelley in the other, in the old-fashioned way. We could probably have changed it around without their finding out, but in the end decided to stay that way as it would cause least trouble. Scott did not want to go in with Marina, and Shelley did not want to go in with Scott. She gets on all right with him normally, but things would be different if they had to share a room. “He’s too noisy and silly,” she explained to me. “And I don’t like the things he does with his penis.” I understood what she meant. Shelley and I are naturists, so being naked is no big deal to us at all. Marina and Scott come from a family which I suppose might be described as `normal’ - no nudity in the normal course of things but no big hang-ups either: the two of them used to have their baths together until Marina was about eight, for example. (Well, my family was pretty much the same, until I became a naturist, as I have related in an earlier story.) Then we went on a picnic together, as I recounted in the story `Marina’, and for the first time she experienced nakedness outdoors. Marina was able to handle it all right and lost her fear of being naked, although she still isn’t what you would call a naturist - she has never been to the naturist club we still hold from time to time at Shelley’s house. But Scott, not having grown up with nudity, seems to be fascinated by it. He could be a bit naughty before - you may recall how he showed his penis to the girls in the car on our way to that picnic - but now it seemed something of an obsession with him. Fortunately we managed to keep our naturist club secret from him or he might well have tried blackmailing us: let me come or I will tell. Or maybe obsession is an exaggeration. According to Marina, he hasn’t changed much at home, so perhaps it was just the extra freedom and the seaside that over-excited him just on this particular holiday. That was probably why he didn’t want to share a room with Marina, as they usually get on quite well together, but he has a healthy respect for her and she would soon have put a stop to some of the nonsense he was getting up to. I thought I knew what Shelley was referring to as well. There was one incident in particular that caused Jenny to lose interest in her now ex-boyfriend. Since that picnic and our naturist experiences there, Scott has always hated wearing pyjamas. But, since his parents refused to let him go naked in the house, he has always had to wear them at home – in their presence at least. In the hot weather he was allowed to keep clothing to a minimum, though, and just wore a little pair of pyjama shorts. It was one of those with an opening at the front to aid urination, and Scott soon discovered that if he sat cross-legged the slit gaped open and revealed his penis. He was foolish enough to do this at times in front of his parents, persuading his mother to insert a row of buttons down the front. Inevitably, the bottom button got lost. Scott told me he was unbuttoning it to use the toilet when it came off, fell into the bowl and was lost forever. This left a small hole, and again Scott immediately discovered that, if he placed his penis correctly, the hole gaped slightly and revealed the little white end of his penis to the careful observer. If he worked at it with his fingers, he could squeeze his penis through. He made sure this time, though, that his parents did not see it. The same did not apply to other people, though. I was together with Marina in her house one evening when Scott entered the television lounge where we were (their parents were in the main lounge), wearing those pyjama shorts, having just taken a bath. Marina glanced at him as he entered but evidently did not see what I did immediately. I was surprised to see how clearly the end of his little white penis stood out against the light-brown colour of his shorts. The self-conscious grin on his face showed too that it was a deliberate exhibition. He sat down next to me, on the other side from Marina, to watch the film. She was deeply engrossed in the programme, but I wasn’t really interested. After a minute or two I was distracted by movement on my other side. I looked down to see Scott leaning back in his seat, just having finished whatever he was doing. He had pulled his little penis through the hole and was sitting back to admire how it looked sticking through the front of his shorts. Then he reached down a hand and started tickling it gently. A gentle shudder ran through his body. Slowly his little penis began to stand up for itself. Just at that moment his mother came into the room. “Scott, I told you to tidy your room before you watched television,” she said. Scott leapt guiltily to his feet, penis still on the wrong side of his shorts. He realised that immediately and clutched at his crotch desperately so that his mother wouldn’t see. She didn’t, but she did ask, “Scott, what are you doing?” “I – I need a wee,” he muttered, and scuttled out of the room, hand still clutching his penis to hide it from view. He returned a few minutes later to settle next to me again. This time he did not pull his penis through the hole, which seemed to be rather a tight fit, but sat with a finger through that hole, stroking and massaging and giving an occasional shudder. Occasionally he would bend forward to see what he could see inside there. I doubt he had any idea what sort of film he was watching at all. The incident that caused the trouble with Shelley and Jenny took place one evening when Marina was over at my house and Jenny was at Scott’s. Shelley was also there, so Scott had the two girls to himself. They were playing card games on the floor of Scott’s bedroom. “He came into the room with his penis sticking through that hole in his shorts,” Jenny told me indignantly later. “And he had this silly grin on his face so we knew it was deliberate. But when we told him to put it away, he pretended he didn’t know. “Then when we were playing the game, he sat with his legs crossed and we could just see his penis inside the hole. But this time when we told him, he just told us that Willy needed to come out for some fresh air and he wouldn’t put it away again. Then I looked at him again, and he had made it all stiff and had stuck it out through the hole. And he started dancing around the room with it sticking right up through the hole. “Then he pulled his shorts down to his knees and rolled over on his back on his bed so we could see – everything underneath. He tried to make us tickle him there. Shelley got really mad at him and started shouting at him. Then his mother came up to see what was happening, but he heard her coming and got his shorts on again. We didn’t tell her what had happened, but Scott was so silly and pretended it was an argument about the game. We didn’t want to play with him any more. And I certainly don’t want him as my boyfriend any more.” Scott would never have dared to do that if Marina had been there, and I’d have stopped him from doing anything that annoyed the girls if I had been there. He seemed quite ashamed when I tackled him about it later. “I was only having fun with them,” he mumbled. “It’s very bad manners to do things that annoy girls like that,” I told him, and gave him a lecture on naturist decorum. I made him apologise to the girls, and they reached a sort of truce, but he and Jenny were never close again. Shelley got on well enough with him normally, but she certainly didn’t want to share a room with him. Scott’s new-found obsession also showed with his clothes. He has always liked wearing short, loose elastic-waisted shorts, and I think his parents think he looks sweet in them, although they are more the sort of things you would expect five-year-olds to wear. Marina on the other hand does not wear mini-skirts, but seems unconcerned or unaware on the occasions when her panties do show. Whenever Scott sits or crouches, or even bends over, his underpants become visible inside his loose shorts, and he knows it. He has become something of an exhibitionist, although not at home apparently. He doesn’t usually show off when his parents or Marina are around, although on the third morning or so he seemed to forget. He put on his shorts in the morning and pulled them up as far as they would go, so that even when he was standing normally you could see a bit of hideous red underpants hanging down at the back. His mother saw it at breakfast, and called him, put her arm round him and gently pulled his shorts down a bit so they were covered. When wearing these shorts he also has a habit of standing with his fingers, which come down just to the right level, curled around the hem, reaching underneath and scratching his testicles or something. It’s a habit that’s hardly noticeable most of the time, but occasionally as he scratches you can see a flash of underpants or even a little pink testicle in there. Sometimes also he will, apparently absent-mindedly, pull up on the hem, and since the shorts are loose he displays quite a sizeable area of his underpants. That first day at Fusari we had unpacked and chosen our beds before lunch. Scott chose the bed by the window, which had a full-length mirror on the cupboard door opposite him so he could see himself when lying on the bed. Instead of unpacking his clothes, he lay on his back on the bed, with his loose shorts sticking up so his yellow underpants of the day were visible almost up to the waist. He admired the view in the mirror, and then stuck out his penis to see what that looked like as well. “What are you doing?” I asked him with an air of boredom, trying to get through the message that this sort of behaviour wasn’t worth bothering with. “Looking at myself,” he answered, not at all put out. “I wish my piss was bigger. I can hardly see it from here.” Scott has a rather small, thin penis not much more than three or four centimetres long. I personally find it very cute. He has rather a long foreskin, so the penis starts out rather thin where it joins on to his body, swells a little to cover the prepuce, and then finishes rather like a little spout as the foreskin sticks out over the end. Even when he wiggles it enough to get a hard-on, his foreskin is still long enough to cover everything but the tip. When I was first introduced to the cute little thing at that picnic, I hoped he would never need to get it circumcised and so destroy its unspoilt beauty, but I noticed that he pulled the foreskin well back every time he needed to urinate. He told me once that if he didn’t pull it back urine sprayed all over the place. And then he proceeded to demonstrate in case I suspected he wasn’t telling the truth. So I could quite understand how Shelley felt disgusted with some of his behaviour. I thought he was silly too, but about the only thing that Marina and Scott seem to have in common is a great deal of natural charm. So Scott’s silliness never bothered me much, and I went along with it good-humouredly in the hope that it would help him to grow out of it and become a normal naturist. “Roy,” Scott continued dreamily. “Do you think my piss is too small?” “Oh, yes,” I assured him, tongue very much in cheek. “Much too small. You’re the only boy I ever met who can put it inside a keyhole or hide it inside a bottle-top.” He looked up at me almost in alarm. “I can’t do that!” he exclaimed. But I caught him the next day when I came out of the bathroom to find him standing on a chair and trying to push his penis into the keyhole of the bedroom door. It was quite a funny sight to see his little bottom thrust forward as he stood on tiptoe, as the suitcase he was standing on was not quite high enough. It was even funnier when Shelley burst into the room moments later. “You’re wrong, Roy, it won’t go in,” he crowed, a split second before being knocked flat on his back, legs waving and penis askew, with his little pink testicles underneath. We never explained to Shelley what he had been trying to do. Suddenly Scott sat up on the bed and looked at me in excitement, his penis forgotten for a moment but still sticking absurdly out of the side of his underpants. “Roy,” he said, suddenly remembering a question that he had obviously been bursting to have answered but dared not ask in the presence of his family. “Do people go naked on the beach here?” That is a question I had been asking myself ever since I first knew I was going to Fusari, and I had taken the trouble to ask other naturists and read tourist brochures about the place. I had to disappoint Scott. “No, sorry,” I grinned at him. “No nude beaches here. But people can go topless, so you can wear nothing on top if you want.” “Phooey!” he snorted, his face falling as he looked bitterly disappointed. The topless side of it didn’t really interest him; he wanted to go naked himself and, as I soon discovered, was very keen to see naked girls, although breasts don’t interest him too much at the moment. They might have done if Fusari had insisted they be covered; I think most of it was the lure of the forbidden. If he had grown up as a naturist where total nudity is normal, he would probably have been much less interested. “What will happen if somebody goes naked on the beach?” he asked. “The police will come and tell you to put your clothes on,” I answered. “And you will get into trouble with Marina.” “I’ll go somewhere without Marina, then,” he replied, pulling at his penis thoughtfully. “Aren’t there any nude beaches anywhere near here, then?” he asked wistfully. I had asked about that as well. “There’s one about thirty kilometres up the coast from here,” I told him. “But it’s a long way to walk.” I had actually done some thinking about it, although I didn’t tell Scott, and thought we should be able to get there by bus some day. “We can go in my dad’s boat,” suggested Scott. His father is very keen on boats and Scott had been telling me earlier about the big new boat he had bought at Fusari, even though he hadn’t seen it yet. “Are you going to ask your dad to take us to a naturist beach?” I asked him. “Maybe not,” admitted Scott. “But you can borrow the boat and drive it there one day with all of us. Or borrow my dad’s car when he’s not using it.” I didn’t think for a moment Scott’s dad would allow me to use his brand new boat or his car, so I just replied, “Well, you ask him then, and if he says yes we’ll try it. Now you’d better put your toy back inside your shorts while we go for lunch.” The four of us went with the two adults to a nearby restaurant for lunch. Marina’s dad told us that he was going to try out his new boat that afternoon, and asked us if we wanted to go out with the two of them or explore the town. The girls weren’t really interested in boats, although they would be sure to enjoy a cruise later on, and Scott I think still wanted to check very carefully if there was any nude bathing at Fusari. So we decided to leave it for another day and spend the afternoon exploring. We gathered our swimming costumes and towels among other things, and I carried them in a bag as Scott insisted we went down to the beach first. It took less than five minutes to walk there, up a rise to what we would call the promenade in English. Scott rushed ahead of us to the top and peered down at the beach below. His disappointment was obvious even from a distance. “They’re all wearing swimming costumes,” he complained indignantly when we caught up with him. “Well, most of them.” We could see a few people in their underwear, but nobody naked. “Well, of course,” answered Marina, surprised. “You don’t expect them to be naked on the beach, do you?” Marina did not know much about naturist beaches and had no idea that there were any in this country. “Roy says there’s a nude beach thirty kilometres away,” Scott told her eagerly. “We must go there tomorrow.” “A nude beach? Oh, Scott, we don’t need to be naked to enjoy ourselves here,” Marina told him reprovingly. “Remember two years ago we went to Italy and you played on the beach in your swimming costume all the time.” “Well, that was with Mum and Dad,” he protested. “Now I like going naked. I want to feel free. Don’t you?” “It can be nice, but I’m quite happy to swim in my costume,” responded Marina. Shelley completely agreed with Scott on this point, and she was eager to go to the naturist beach. “How can we get there?” she asked me. “Well, Scott’s going to ask his dad if I can drive the car or the boat to take us there . . .” I smiled. “I’m not going to tell him why!” protested Scott. “I don’t think he’ll let us do that,” put in Marina, and I was sure she was right. One of the yellow local buses passing behind us suddenly gave Shelley the same idea as I had had. “Can’t we go by bus?” she burst out. “I’m sure there must be buses that go there.” “Well, if we find an information place we can ask,” I said, playing it casually but really as eager as the two younger ones to go to a naturist beach. Shelley and I had been before occasionally on other holidays, and we thought there was no better way of spending a holiday than to be free and naked in the hot sun among hundreds of other naturists enjoying their freedom. (To be continued) MEDITERRANEAN HOLIDAY (CHAPTER 2) We wandered on to the beach, which was pretty crowded. Many of the girls and women were topless, and Scott did a bit of staring at them until Marina spoke to him, and after that he was a bit more devious about it. Small children up to about six years of age were playing naked in the sand. There were adults as well as children who were wearing only their underpants or panties. This country is quite a bit freer about nudity than places like Britain, and although nobody was actually naked many people were changing on the beach. In Britain most people, I am told, change under towels when they need to, but people in this country were not so fussy, and there were quite a few who were not embarrassed to change into or out of swimming costumes without going under cover to do so. “This is a good place,” announced Scott, finding a spot on the beach for us. “Let’s swim.” The others seemed to agree, so I put the bag down, but Scott was already stripping off. He whipped off his shirt and pulled down his shorts, dragging his underpants partway down with them. Then he pulled down his underpants, stepped out of them and stood there wearing nothing but a big cheeky smile, right hand idly holding his penis. Shelley began removing her thin cotton dress too. “Scott,” frowned Marina, reproving him. “Well, other people are changing like this,” Scott defended himself. “I can put my costume on if I have to.” I found the rolled-up towels and passed them out. Scott shook his loose and then giggled. “Oh, dear!” he announced to the world in general. “I have forgot my costume!” “Do you want to borrow mine?” Shelley teased him, holding out her brief costume to him while she was now wearing only her delightful white panties. Scott pretended to slap it out of her hand. I felt sure he had forgotten his costume deliberately. Shelley meanwhile slipped out of her panties, revealing her beautiful all-over tan, and pulled on the only costume she was wearing, a very small bikini bottom which got stuck at the back up the crack in her bottom. Her beautiful little breasts are still quite small, not much more than little points. She ran gracefully down the beach and into the sea. “Scott, you will have to swim in your underpants, then, or not at all,” Marina told him. “The people here aren’t naturists and they’ll be looking at you.” Scott suddenly seemed to lose his courage a bit. He glanced furtively round and I think he saw one or two of them watching him. He went a bit red and put on his underpants without any further argument. This yellow pair was of the sort that have a slit down the front, like his pyjama shorts, and he managed to put it on with his penis sticking out of the hole. He pushed it back inside and ran down towards the sea. I was stripping off, but Marina was much more wary about changing in public. She sat down to remove her shoes and socks, seemingly unaware that she was revealing her soft white panties as she did so. Then she stood up, shook out her costume, reached under her dress and pulled her panties down. She had a two-piece costume, and she slipped on the bottom part, a floral pattern, without anybody therefore able to see her nakedness. She was less shy at the top end, slipping her dress off and then quickly putting on the top part. It was much less revealing than a bikini. Full one-piece swimming costumes for girls and women are almost unknown in this country - outside our English school. It is either topless or bikini. “You don’t have to wear the top part here,” I suggested gently to her, now wearing my own brief costume. “I know but - I don’t like to leave it off in public,” she smiled at me. She took my hand and we ran into the sea together. Scott was splashing around with great delight, his penis sticking through the slit in his underpants, whether deliberately or not I don’t know. Marina didn’t notice and we splashed at each other and had a bit of fun together. Then I remembered our bag, and thought that somebody at least had better look after it. We went back to it and sat down together on our towels, leaving Scott and Shelley to play in the sea. A few minutes later we saw Scott running out of the sea towards us. He was naked, looked agitated and was holding his hands over his penis as he ran. “Scott, what are you doing?” exclaimed Marina. “My underpants were washed away,” he explained, pushing his thighs together and his hands down firmly on his genitals. I think it was the first time I had seen him really embarrassed. Strange, considering his eagerness to go naked a few minutes earlier, but there is no accounting for Scott. “Where are my shorts?” I opened the bag and handed them to him, while Marina said, “How could they be washed away when you were wearing them?” “Well, when I was out there deep I took them off for fun,” he explained, rather more clearly this time. “I – I put them on my head to wear like a hat. And they were washed away, and I couldn’t find them.” “Well, that’s silly,” Marina told him. “Mum won’t be very pleased to hear that you’ve lost your underpants. Now you mustn’t get your shorts wet. No more swimming - you must stay out of the sea.” Scott looked guilty and didn’t argue. Within a few minutes he was sitting down playing in the sand. But his loose shorts were not much of a cover, and as he squatted a little pink testicle hung out of one side. Then he put one knee up and the other leg down as he moved over, and his whole penis flopped out. He didn’t seem to notice and Marina didn’t, so I just smiled and enjoyed the view. I suppose you could say he was kind of cute, and I do enjoy the nakedness of those who strike me that way, boys as well as girls. It was a good thing he has a long foreskin, as he was getting sand all over it. After a while he decided he wanted an ice cream, so I went with him to the ice-cream caravan further along the beach while Marina stayed with the bag. On the way we passed two or three girls changing after swimming. One girl, aged perhaps eight or nine, had just pulled down her costume, and as she straightened up the wind blew up her short skirt for a moment to give a momentary glimpse of a cute little vagina. Scott saw it as well. “Ooh,” he gasped. He looked at the girl, and as she looked back at him he said gleefully, “I saw your wee when your dress blew up.” She went bright red, looked down and pulled her skirt firmly down over her knees. I looked at Scott, who still had a big smile on his face at his unexpected treat, and decided it was time to teach him some of the facts of life. By the way, he had too much respect for Marina ever to comment when he saw her naked. “Why did you say that to her?” I asked him. He shrugged his shoulders. “Just for fun,” he answered. “Do you like seeing girls naked?” I asked him. “Sure,” he admitted with a charming grin. “Don’t you?” “Beautiful,” I agreed. “But you don’t let them know. That girl you were rude to. How do you think she feels? Do you think she will ever let you see her naked again? Or will any of her friends?” “I suppose not,” he admitted, looking crestfallen. “Well, keep quiet, then,” I told him. “You’ve got to make girls feel safe. If they feel safe with you and they like you, they won’t mind letting you see them naked - a lot of them, anyway. But you must make them feel safe first.” “How do you do that?” asked Scott, very interested. “Well, you never say anything silly or rude,” I told him. “Remember what I often say to girls? `It doesn’t matter.’ I show no interest in seeing their panties or seeing them naked. I never say anything at all if I don’t have to. I even tell them that if they feel shy, that’s quite all right, and I don’t look or I go away while they’re naked. A lot of girls then trust me so much that they let me see after that. For girls, letting boys see their panties or their vaginas is a way of showing they trust boys they like. I have hundreds of girls who trust me like that.” Scott stared up at me in rapt adoration, mouth open. “Wow!” he exclaimed. “That must be fun!” “It is,” I replied. “And girls also trust you more quickly if you’re well-mannered and friendly. Girls like well-mannered boys. If you act silly with them, they’re too shy to trust you, because they think you’ll also act silly if you see them naked.” At that point we reached the ice-cream caravan, but I could see Scott was doing some serious thinking. I was also thinking of myself, I must admit. If Scott were with me on a naturist beach or anywhere else, I didn’t want him putting off any girls by his silly behaviour. I stopped at an information desk on the beach to find out the bus times to Playa Norigo, the naturist beach I had heard about. Buses left every two hours, I discovered, and the best time for the next day would be ten o’clock in the morning. Scott had another question on the way back. “If I show a girl my piss, will she let me see hers?” he asked. “It depends how you do it,” I answered. “If you’re just changing naturally that might help. If you just stick it out and show her, or act silly like you did that evening with Shelley and Jenny” – he looked most guilty – “a lot of girls will think you’re rude. Some of them will show you in return, but they’ll be mostly silly girls. But a lot of girls don’t really like seeing boys naked. They get embarrassed easily.” He was thoughtful again. We returned to the villas at about six o’clock and went out to eat again with Marina’s parents, as they were not entertaining any friends this time. Scott kept yawning throughout the meal, with excitement I think. I guessed his mind was on naked girls and the naturist beach we planned to visit the next day, as he often had a faraway gleam in his eye. But his yawning made his parents think we were tired, and after the meal they suggested we went back to the villa and had an early night. When we arrived back, I invited Marina to have a bath with me, the first time I had ever been able to do so. She was surprised, but agreed. The other two were most indignant when they found out, both wanting the same `treat’, but I have bathed with Shelley many times over the years. I told Scott I wanted a quiet bath and one with him certainly would not be, but he kept pestering me until Marina told him to be quiet. I ran the bath, and we undressed and got in together. I lay back with my feet up against the taps, while Marina sat between my legs and leaned her head back against my collar bone. Her dark shoulder-length hair tickled down my side, and her rosy cheeks glowed with the warm water as she looked up at me with her beautiful sparkling brown eyes. Her little breasts, each reaching up in a gentle slope to a tiny firm nipple at the top, were just above the level of the water. I gazed lovingly down the length of her body, her white hips and loins, that perfect vagina with just the slightest touch of fuzz at the top and a few long hairs at the bottom, and her slender brown legs. I rested my arms gently around her tummy. My penis was not exactly hard, but it was certainly rather swollen, and I wriggled so that it would stick more out to one side instead of into her back. We lay back together and talked quietly. We were interrupted once as Scott came in, claiming he needed to use the toilet, but more likely because he was just curious about what we were actually doing. He pulled out his little penis, slid back the foreskin, tried for about ten seconds before beginning to urinate in a thin trickle, and then turned to look and see what we were doing. “Scott!” exclaimed Marina in reproof as, not looking where he was shooting, he missed the bowl and began to urinate on the floor. Marina made him use toilet paper to wipe it up on the tiled floor - with a hot climate, carpets are rare in the south - while I stared at him with a bored expression on my face. He got the message and went out without trying to urinate again. “What do you feel about going to the naturist beach tomorrow?” was one of the questions I murmured into Marina’s ear. “Very nervous,” she admitted, looking up at me so beautifully from the corner of her eye and smiling shyly. “I mean - all those people naked. I’ve only twice been out of doors naked in my whole life - well, except when I was very small. Since I was about five I haven’t. And then it was with you and a few other girls. And Scott, of course, that time at the waterfall. And when we fell into the water in the old quarry. But there’ll be lots of grown-ups there, won’t there? And boys! I know I probably won’t, but I just hope I don’t meet any boys from school.” “Well, they’ll all be naked too,” I assured her. “But I’m sure you won’t know anybody there. It’s a big beach and there will be thousands of people, but they mostly come from other countries, especially Britain and Italy. I don’t think naturist beaches are allowed in Italy, so the naturists there come to other countries. And in Britain it’s probably too cold or wet for most of the year, though I’ve heard they do have some naturist beaches there.” “I can’t imagine it - thousands of naked people all together,” said Marina, screwing up her nose in a most charming way. “It sounds rude, somehow.” “I wouldn’t do anything that was rude,” I told her. “It’s just that people like you, from families who aren’t naturists, have got the idea from their families and school that it’s supposed to be wrong to be naked in public. But it’s only rude when people start showing off their bodies, like Scott tries to do sometimes, or go round spying on other people. But with Scott I think he’s just a bit too excited about discovering that being naked is fun.” Marina has a lovely smile when her brow is also wrinkled up in puzzlement, and she was wearing it now. “Well, I wouldn’t say it was fun,” she said slowly. “At least, it was with you at the waterfall, but that’s just because I love you and I wanted to share it with you. I’m afraid I’ll feel bad on that beach with all those - those naked people.” “Well, nobody will know you or look at you, I’m sure,” I reassured her. “People usually keep to themselves or their families and enjoy being naked together. I’ve never seen anybody there who goes round spying on other people.” “I - I think grown-ups look a bit - well, ugly, naked,” Marina confessed. “I mean, I’ve never seen any grown-ups naked, except for Mum and Dad occasionally. But some of the photographs that Shelley showed me in her family photo albums . . .” “Well, I thought the same when I first went to our club,” I replied. “But naturists soon learn not to worry about that. Being naked also means we have nothing to hide. Girls like you have such beautiful bodies too, and so do little boys, I think. But I know they don’t look so good when they get hairier, and you see some boys and men with large penises and women with fat floppy breasts, and that sort of thing. Anyway, are you willing to try it? Shelley loves it, and she’s nearly as old as you are.” “Well, she’s used to it, she’s grown up with it,” she muttered. “But I’ll try. I’ll try to please you. But I - maybe we can leave early if I can’t handle it.” “I’ll do anything for you, my darling,” I whispered, nibbling her ear. She turned her head, smiling, and we kissed gently. I began to rub her tummy gently. “And under my arms,” she whispered. I tried to, but there was no room further back for my elbows, and I couldn’t rub under her arms without touching her breasts. She saw the problem. “It’s all right,” she whispered, looking at me appealingly in the eyes. “I don’t mind you touching me there.” “I love you,” I whispered back, beginning to rub her on the sides of her breasts. I could feel them sloping gently outwards, firm and yet soft, and still with cute little nipples on the end. This was the first time I had ever touched her breasts with my fingers. Gently, tenderly, scared I might hurt her, I rubbed them, feeling them wobble a little under my fingers. “Mmmmm!” she murmured, leaning her head back again and shutting her eyes, a smile of sheer pleasure on her face. Perhaps one day she will let me touch her between her legs. But probably not for a long time. I wouldn’t dare ask her to touch my penis, in case she thought me rude, and she might feel the same about my touching her there. It was a long, long time before we finished our bath and returned to our separate bedrooms, myself naked and Marina in her dressing gown. We hugged and kissed goodnight, looking forward to the next day. Back in my room, I found Scott was still awake, lying naked on his bed, looking at his genitals and talking. “Why are you talking to yourself?” I asked him with a smile. “I’m not talking to myself, I’m talking to Willy,” he argued, pointing to his penis. So Scott had found a little friend! And what an original name he *didn’t* give to it. “Is he answering you?” I asked. “No, I think he’s asleep,” Scott said. “Will you come and wake him up?” I leaned over Scott’s penis and said firmly, “Boo!” “No, that didn’t work,” Scott said. “Sometimes he needs to be tickled to wake him up.” “And do you really want me to do that?” I asked. “Yes. Try it,” said Scott. I had rarely touched another boy’s penis before, but if this was what my future brother-in-law wanted, who was I to deny him his pleasure? `Willy’ was lying rather floppily on his back with two tiny pink testicles, quite hairless and with wrinkled skin, lying underneath him. “Let’s get him out of bed first,” I said, putting my fingers round the testicles. They were cool and soft. Inside I could feel two little oval balls. Scott giggled. “Do you think if I squeeze these Willy will get out of bed?” I asked. Scott giggled again. “Just a little bit,” he said. “Not much,” he warned me as an afterthought. Gently I rubbed the wobbly little balls in their tiny bag, rolling them gently between my fingers and feeling them. Then I squeezed a little. “Ooh!” exclaimed Scott, sitting up suddenly and his blue eyes popping wide open. “That’s enough!” “Didn’t it work?” I asked him. Scott leaned his face forward, but could not get quite far enough to touch his penis with his nose. “No,” he said. “He’s still asleep. You must tickle him.” He lay back again and shuddered in anticipation. I began to feel slightly disgusted, but we might as well finish the game now we had started it. Willy was again lying floppily on his back against Scott’s loins, the long foreskin sticking over the end like a little spout being the only reason why he was more than three centimetres long. I put my thumb and fingers on each side and pulled him gently upright. He felt so floppy and delicate in my fingers. Scott giggled. Holding Willy upright by the foreskin with one hand, I gently tickled him under his chin with the other. Scott gave a very girlish squeal and shivered violently. As I tickled again, Willy suddenly began to wake up. He began to grow in my hand, suddenly losing his floppiness and getting stiff. As I tickled some more, I let go with my other hand and he stood up straight by himself. “Nearly,” Scott encouraged me. “Some more!” I tickled him gently under the testicles and he squealed again. Willy’s foreskin began to pull down and I could just see his little pink head, with an open hole in the middle, sticking out of the end. He was now standing there in all his splendour, a fine strapping giant at five and a half centimetres long. “He’s waking up now!” grinned Scott, propping himself up on his elbows so he could see the action some more. “Go, go! Don’t stop!” But I did stop. “He’s awake now,” I told Scott in a rather bored voice, returning to my bed. “But he won’t stay awake,” protested Scott, taking Willy by the head and wiggling him. “He goes soft very quickly.” “Well, that’s your problem,” I told him. “Maybe you should let him sleep. He has his big day out at Playa Norigo tomorrow, when he will meet a lot of new friends. You must make sure he doesn’t get sunburnt.” Scott giggled again, looking at Willy and wondering what he would look like sunburnt. Slowly Willy settled down to sleep again as I got into bed. “Now it’s your turn,” Scott said, getting off his bed and coming over to mine. “Lie on your back.” “No, thank you,” I replied firmly. “I’m going to sleep as well.” I climbed in and turned off the light. I heard a creak of bed springs, a pattering of feet, and then two hands landed on my back and felt their way up to my face. I felt a sloppy wet kiss on my cheek. “I love you, Roy,” a voice with hot breath whispered in my ear. I couldn’t help smiling. He may be silly and crazy, but he can be terribly cute. I put my arms round him, and in a moment he was sitting on my chest, jumping up and down on me. I reached out and tickled him, and he rolled over on his back, giggling. I could feel his penis against my arm as his legs were on either side of it now. I took hold of it and shook it gently. “Take Willy off to bed now,” I told him. It took quite a while for me to get him back to his bed. It took even longer for me to get to sleep as my mind turned over one thought after another of taking Marina to her first naturist beach. By the sound of it Scott took a very long time to sleep as well. He was far too excited about it. (To be continued) MEDITERRANEAN HOLIDAY (CHAPTER 3) When I woke up next morning, something didn’t seem right. The air felt different, for a start. It felt much heavier, and it seemed a little harder to breath. It did not seem particularly light, either, when I looked at my watch and saw that it was seven o’clock. I got out of bed quietly and tiptoed across to the window. Scott was fast asleep still, lying flat on his back, head to one side and one hand clutching his penis. I parted the curtains slightly and looked out. There was a view of more pleasant-looking walled villas stretching up the hillside. But overhead the sky was covered in cloud, very heavy and a greyish-orange, and the wind was blowing strongly. I knew it did this sometimes in the late summer and it only lasted a few hours. But it might be long enough to stop our visit to the naturist beach. A few minutes later Shelley came bursting into our room, waking up Scott (but not Willy!). She too was very disappointed with the weather, but I wondered if Marina was not secretly rather relieved. I think in herself she liked the idea, but I suspect she felt rather guilty about doing something that she had always thought just wasn’t done. We were rather subdued when we had breakfast with Marina’s parents. We had told them the previous evening that we were planning to go somewhere on a bus ride, but hadn’t said where and they hadn’t asked. But at breakfast Marina’s dad said, “Will this weather spoil your day? Where were you thinking of going?” I had my answer ready. “We were going to take the bus to Avernia,” I answered. We were indeed - Playa Noriga is about two stops before Avernia, where there is quite a well-known playground. “But we’ll have to think about it now with the weather so cloudy.” “We were planning to go out in the boat,” Marina’s dad told us. “But we obviously can’t do that with this wind. So we were thinking of going for a drive in the countryside this morning instead. You’re welcome to join us if you want.” We discussed after breakfast what to do. “Let’s take the bus to Avernia anyway,” suggested Shelley. “Then we can get off at Playa Noriga if the weather gets better, and if it doesn’t we can go on to Avernia and go to the playground.” I pointed out that the problem with that was that tomorrow we would have to tell them we were going on the same bus again, and they would know we couldn’t be going to the playground again because we wouldn’t have had enough money left. I could tell Marina was beginning to feel bad about, well, not lying to her parents but still deceiving them through not telling the whole truth. Shelley and Scott both argued at this, so I said, “Well, let’s go for a short walk around town and think about it. No more talking about it until we come back.” We took a quick walk, but it wasn’t very pleasant. It was still warm enough, but the strong gusty wind, which also blew some sand in from the beach, was the worst problem. Marina, wearing a light skirt, had quite some difficulty in holding it down, and when I was behind her I several times saw generous flashes of white as the wind blew it up at the back. Shelley’s skirt was made of slightly heavier material, so it wasn’t quite blown about so much, but she actually enjoyed it, laughing with fun as a sudden gust blew her skirt up into her face, revealing to the enraptured world a full view of the most beautiful panties I have ever seen. “Everyone saw your panties then,” Scott informed her helpfully. Marina and I both gave him a strong reminder about his manners, but Shelley just laughed and said, “I don’t care! It’s funny!” I made a mental note to warn Scott when we were by ourselves that remarks like that would be counter-productive as far as his desires to see any more were concerned, but unfortunately I forgot, which was to prove a mistake. Other girls in the streets were having the same problem with their skirts, and I often noticed a gleam in Scott’s eye as he spotted the underwear of some hapless female. But girls and women in this country do not seem to be so worried about revealing their panties as the British appear to be, and it is not too unusual to see an adult woman in a mini-skirt, which is the fashion here at the moment, sitting with her legs partly open or the gap between the thighs unprotected, to reveal the delicate lacy panties that many of them wear underneath. There were, you will remember, quite a few on the beach the previous day wearing only bras and panties, and often without the bras. At half-past nine the weather had still not improved, and it was clear that it was not going to be much fun even at Avernia. The others reluctantly agreed when I suggested we accept the car trip; Marina’s dad had told us they planned to leave at ten. So we went on a car trip until lunchtime. In the car, Marina’s dad told us that he was entertaining some friends that evening, but as it was only one family and they had three children they asked if we would be willing to have dinner with them and then look after the children afterwards. We could either watch television or take them over to our villa. There were two boys, aged fourteen and twelve, and a girl of nine. We were quite happy to agree, as all of us are pretty sociable people, especially Shelley and Scott. Those two have a lot in common, actually, but as I mentioned earlier don’t like to get too close to each other. Around lunchtime the weather began to clear, although it was still windy. Scott wanted to go to Playa Norigo even now, but I said we would only be able to have two hours there if we did before we would have to return. It would be better to hold out for a full day, as it was almost certain to be fine tomorrow. So we explored the town a bit by ourselves before returning in good time for the visitors. They duly arrived just after six o’clock. They were a pleasant couple, but the two boys obviously didn’t want to be there. They were sulky and hardly spoke, although I tried to chat with them. The girl was different, though. The first thing I noticed about her was that she had about the most mischievous smile I have ever seen, or perhaps it’s the mischievous glint in her blue eyes that makes it seem so. She has rather short light honey-coloured hair, brushed low across her forehead, and was wearing a red and white dress. It had a little girdle around the waist, and the top part was white and the little skirt was red. She looked very attractive. Scott thought so too, I could tell from the start. As they walked into the door as a family, the girl by the side of her mother and the two boys bringing up a disgruntled rear, I saw Scott’s eyes fix on her and stay there, seemingly fascinated. She looked round at all of us with interest, not a bit shy, and then saw Scott staring at her. She stared back at him, her smile becoming a grin, and noticing the mischievous gleam in her eye I thought here was a very fitting pair. Marina’s dad introduced us all, and then the man introduced his children, so we learned that her name was Charlotte. She and Scott kept looking at each other with interest as we went into the lounge. Scott for once seemed quite speechless. It was at this point that I tried talking to the boys, but came up against a brick wall. In fact, as we sat down in the lounge, they both took out computer games and started to play with them. Their mother made them put them away again, which turned them even sulkier. Marina’s parents had both seen me do my duty and get rebuffed, so I turned back to the others. There I saw a rare sight. Scott was shy. Charlotte was trying to talk to him, but he couldn’t look her in the eye and he was blushing. Marina came to the rescue as always, along with Shelley, and they started talking to Charlotte. She immediately forgot Scott and started telling them some animated story or other that I couldn’t hear against the background of the four adults talking and laughing together. Scott was now ignored, which is also rare, and he didn’t like it. He broke in to say something himself, and within ten seconds he was chattering away to Charlotte, she was listening to him with her hands behind her back, white top of dress smooth all the way down her front and her smile in place, and Marina and Shelley had been forgotten. Marina turned to me, most amused, and we enjoyed a quiet laugh together about Scott and his behaviour. Marina’s parents did not seem aware of this development, though, as when we sat down to dinner, brought in by a local delivery service, they had placed Scott and Charlotte almost at opposite corners of the table. In typically sexist fashion they had placed the four boys on one side of the table and the three girls on the other, with the two young lovers at opposite corners. I was placed between the two boys, tried to talk to them again and failed. It was not too easy to talk to Marina either, although she was opposite me, as she was sitting next to Charlotte and talking to her a lot of the time. I was also aware of Scott’s eyes fixed so much in Charlotte’s direction that at one point he knocked his glass of mineral water over and had to mop it up. It didn’t stop him showing off very obviously as he did so, though, even if he couldn’t meet her eye. Charlotte’s bright eyes also watched him, but she had time for others as well, and I exchanged several smiles with her during the course of the meal. It was a long meal, and when we had finished Marina’s dad made the suggestion that his friends’ children could either watch television or go and visit our villa for an hour or so; we were to bring them back by nine o’clock. I had no doubt in my mind what each of the visiting children would choose. Two couch potatoes slunk off into the television lounge with their computer games, while Charlotte was only too delighted to have the special attention of the four of us. No sooner were we out of the front door than Scott started talking and showing off. Evidently he had got over his unnatural silence and was going to the opposite extreme. Even I recognise his natural charm, as had my sister Jenny not so long before, and Charlotte it seemed was soon captivated. She wanted to talk too, though, and even as we walked between the two villas it was clearly fatal for the talker even to draw breath, because the other would immediately start off. Scott was trying to tell Charlotte about some fantastic adventure that was supposed to have happened to him at school, while Charlotte was more interested in asking him questions. Since they both wanted to talk about Scott in one way or another, they got on very well. I unlocked the door of our villa for us to enter, aware also that Marina was finding it very hard not to laugh at her brother. Marina, who had expected the boys to be coming over to our villa until she actually saw them, had thought a game of Monopoly might be a good idea, and had got it out. She asked Charlotte if she knew how to play and if she wanted to, and got a positive answer to both. We drew up chairs around a low table, and Scott put his feet on the seat, drew his knees up under his chin and carried on talking. As soon as he paused to breathe, Charlotte giggled and pointed. “You know, I can see your underpants when you sit like that,” she told him. “You can see as much as you want,” replied Scott unashamedly. Forgetting Marina was there, he put his knees down and pulled the elastic of his shorts forward so she could have a better look. “Scott!” Marina reproved him with a frown, and he stopped and carried on with his conversation just as if the interlude had never happened. We began to play, amid much talk and laughter, most of both from Scott, whom Marina had to quieten down more than once. I have never known him noisier or to show off more. Charlotte laughed at him and with him, clearly quite taken with him, and often they both had to be reminded that it was their turn. The other two girls and myself found it most amusing, but we didn’t get much chance to talk. Then Charlotte picked up Old Kent Road to add to her Whitechapel Road, and so had a set. She jiggled her legs up and down with excitement, revealing a flash of white panties with little reindeer patterns all over them. “Hey, pretty panties,” blurted out Scott gleefully. Marina and I both jumped on him at once - figuratively, at least - and I said to Charlotte, forgetting for a moment that she had actually started this line of conversation, “Don’t worry, I won’t allow him to be rude to you, I promise. It really shouldn’t matter.” I regretted then that I had forgotten to remind Scott not to do this very thing. “It’s all right,” Charlotte answered, still smiling. “Next time I’ll wear my shorts so he can’t see them. I usually wear shorts but Mummy said I must wear a dress tonight.” “A pretty girl like you, preferring shorts?” I queried, acting surprised as I found a way to state my preference. “You look so lovely in a dress like that.” She beamed with pleasure and I hope the bolt had shot home. I then looked at Scott, who shot me a rather guilty-looking glance. He was also remembering when it was too late that he had broken one of the `rules’ for dealing with girls that I had told him, and it was already being proven to him that the girl did not intend to let him see her panties a second time. Within ten seconds, though, he was busy talking to Charlotte again. Although Charlotte had a set, she didn’t know how to handle it and never got round to build houses or hotels on her property. Shelley had a set and soon Charlotte was in debt to her. “Here, you can borrow some of my money,” insisted Scott, handing her over a wad. She took it, and very soon both of them were running short of money. I bought Charlotte’s set off her, mortgaged all of my other property and had just enough to buy hotels on both. I am rather ruthless at Monopoly, I’m afraid, and within minutes of each other Scott and Charlotte had landed on my property and were out of the game. “Come, let me show you the house,” offered Scott, and the two of them walked out of the lounge door, chattering away while the rest of us continued our game. I was probably winning, but I looked at my watch and saw that we had to take Charlotte back in ten minutes’ time, so I suggested we call it a draw and get to know her a bit better. After we had packed up we went to find the other two. They were sitting on Scott’s bed, still talking excitedly. Scott has a great imagination and was clearly using it to impress Charlotte, acting a story out as he told it and rolling on the bed a few times, revealing his underpants, light blue in colour today. Charlotte must have seen, but she didn’t comment any more, and I suspect he was doing it deliberately to try to tempt her to do likewise. She wasn’t biting, though, sitting demurely on the bed with her skirt almost down to her knees and most of the time hands folded demurely in her lap. When I sat down on my bed with the two girls, Scott jumped on my lap, wrapped his arms around my neck and gave me a smacking kiss on the cheek, no doubt as a sign of what he would like to do to Charlotte if he had the courage. “This is my best friend Roy!” he announced to her. In fun I pushed him off my lap, ran to the corner of the room and grabbed a towel, mopping my face and gasping for breath as if Scott’s kiss had almost drowned me, causing Charlotte to squeal with delight, the others laughing too. Scott came after me again, arms outstretched, and I dodged away from him, shouting, “Blocks!” - our school signal which is supposed to indemnify a person from being touched in any way. Scott, playing up to the game, pulled a funny face, gave a groan and sat down next to Charlotte again, pouting. “Aren’t you going to give Charlotte a kiss?” Shelley teased him - rather silly of her, I thought. I’m sure Scott would not have had the courage, unless he acted the fool quite grossly, but he was prepared to pretend. He put an arm clumsily across Charlotte’s back, going slightly red in the face as he did so, and stuck both lips out. Charlotte was quite up to it, though, and she chipped in quickly with “Blocks!” Scott whipped his arm away and took up his previous position, bottom lip out and miserable face, while she giggled at him. “You know, Scott is very ticklish,” I told her, getting to my feet. Scott, anticipating what was coming next, started giggling and shrinking away from me already, as if I had touched him by remote control, and scrambled over the bed, while I dodged round the end and caught him in the corner. He could, of course, have shouted “Blocks!”, but he either forgot or, more likely, decided to wait until he could no longer breathe before doing so, as he usually does. I trapped him in a corner, pinned down his giggling body and tickled gently. “Charlotte, come and have a turn,” I encouraged her. She gave a giggle and came round to join me. Scott was now on his back, wriggling and kicking. She came round the side and crouched down next to him, reaching out her hand, mischievous smile glowing, to tickle his ribs. Still roaring with laughter, Scott rolled towards her, bumping her hard and knocking her backwards. She bumped into the soft side of the bad, laughing, and at the same time, as her bottom plonked on to the ground, revealing her panties very clearly. I knew that Scott had done this quite deliberately, and he was now looking right at her while I kept tickling. “Stop!” he shouted. “Blocks!” Obediently I stopped, as Charlotte scrambled to her feet, quite unaware in all the fun of what she had revealed. “Sorry, Charlotte,” said Scott, making a very good job of pretending to be concerned that she wasn’t hurt. “Are you all right?” “Yes - s!” giggled Charlotte, now standing up. Then she leaned forward and started tickling his ribs as hard as she could. He tried to push her over again but failed, so he grabbed her round the waist and pulled her down with him. They rolled on the floor together, laughing and squealing. Just at that moment there was a loud knocking on the door, and Scott froze, suddenly looking rather guilty. I realised that we had forgotten the time, and it was probably Charlotte’s parents come to collect her. I went to the door, while the two younger ones scrambled to their feet, Charlotte grinning broadly and Scott still looking rather guilty. “Sorry, we forgot the time,” I apologised as I opened the door to find all four parents outside. “That’s all right,” smiled Charlotte’s father. “Sounds like you were having a great time, Sharly.” Charlotte pushed past me and threw arms round her father’s waist. “Oh, Daddy, we’ve been having such fun!” she exclaimed. “We just discovered that Scott is very, very ticklish!” She looked back for him, but he was keeping himself in the background. “Oh, is that what the noise was?” her father laughed. “I thought you were killing a pig or something.” “Well, very nearly, yes,” I grinned. “Thanks very much for looking after Sharly so well,” her mother smiled at us all. “I’m sorry the boys weren’t in a very good mood tonight.” “That’s all right, Charlotte’s been such a pleasure,” I assured her. Marina and Shelley also added their appreciation. They turned to go to their car, while I followed them to say goodbye. Then Scott suddenly seemed to remember something, as he pushed past me and trotted alongside Charlotte’s dad. “Please could Charlotte come out with us tomorrow?” he asked nervously. “Oh, yes, please, Daddy,” put in Charlotte eagerly, looking up at him with winsome eyes. Her parents looked at each other. “Sounds good to me, then, if you want,” smiled her mother. “Well, we’d better talk to your parents first, Scott,” her father said a bit more cautiously. I was in two minds at this stage. Much as I liked Charlotte, I knew we could not take her with us to the naturist beach, but Scott clearly seemed to think we could. As Marina’s parents turned to us, Marina said, “That would be lovely,” and Shelley nodded eagerly. I couldn’t very well object after that. “Well, Roy would be in charge, but he’s actually excellent,” Marina’s father. “I’m very happy with the way he looks after my two. They got into a very sticky situation once on a school camp . . .” And he proceeded to outline what happened in the story I called `Camping Adventure’, praising especially the way I had got the girls out of the water when the ledge on the quarry collapsed, got them back to the campsite and protected them throughout the night until we were all picked up the following morning. I did feel rather guilty, though, in the knowledge that he would not have been so happy if he found out some of the things that happened there. Not that I ever did anything wrong to the girls, though, in any way, but people who are not naturists tend to assume that when boys and girls are naked together . . . It was quickly agreed, then, and arranged that Charlotte should be brought round at half-past nine. I bowed to the inevitable, and mentally put aside thoughts of Playa Norigo in favour of a day of fun with this delightful little girl. “Been lovely having you, Charlotte,” I said to her, rubbing her gently on the shoulder with my hand as she was about to climb into the back seat of her car after her sullen-looking brothers. “Thank you,” she smiled, then suddenly turned around, wrapped her arms round my waist and gave me a tight hug. Her parents laughed. “You seem to have made a hit there, Roy,” smiled her father good-naturedly. “He always does that to the girls,” muttered Scott jealously, but not so the adults could hear him. “Remember Scott was the one who first invited you,” I reminded Charlotte, trying to salvage some scraps for Scott. “Thank you, Scott,” said Charlotte, smiling at him and waving a hand as she shut the car door. And he had to be satisfied with that. (To be continued) MEDITERRANEAN HOLIDAY (CHAPTER 4) As soon as they had driven off and we had said goodnight to Marina’s parents, we walked back to our villa together. “Well, we’ll have to think of somewhere else to go tomorrow now,” I said to the others. “Why?” exclaimed Scott immediately, sounding shocked. “We can’t take Charlotte to Playa Norigo,” I said. “She’s not a naturist and I’m sure she won’t want to go. She’d probably tell her parents about it if we even suggested it to her.” “No, she won’t!” protested Scott indignantly. “I told her where we were going! I said it was a nude beach and she said she wanted to come with us.” “When did you tell her that?” I asked him. “When you were all finishing off Monopoly,” he said. “I told her all about tomorrow and said we were all excited about going to the nude beach where people don’t wear any clothes or swimming costumes, and she said it sounded like fun. So I asked her if she wanted to come, and in the end she said yes.” “In the end? Well, she may have another think tomorrow morning,” I said. “If she’s the sort of girl who’s going to wear shorts so you can’t see her panties, I don’t think she’ll want you to see her naked either.” “I told her I was sorry,” muttered Scott, looking ashamed. “And she said it was all right, she didn’t really mind. And she smiled at me.” He flushed furiously. “Well, we’ll have to see tomorrow,” I said, as we entered the lounge and sat down together. “I’ll talk to her before we set off tomorrow and see, but if we take her there when she doesn’t really want to go, there may be all sorts of trouble for us. Marina, will you come with me when I talk to her?” Marina was looking really disturbed. She thought for a moment and then said, “Roy, I - I really don’t think I can go to Playa Norigo tomorrow. My mum and dad think we’re going somewhere else, and we haven’t told them any lies, but we’re still deceiving them, in a way. I - I just don’t want to do it.” “You don’t have to come,” Scott told her. “Quiet, Scott,” I said. “Well, I’m really sorry you feel like that. Maybe we’d all better not go.” Shelley and Scott both sounded most indignant at that, and Marina looked even more uncomfortable. “Well, that’s just the way I feel,” she said, with tears in her eyes. “You can all go, but I don’t think I will. Mum and Dad are going out in their boat, so I’ll tell them I’d like to go with them. Please.” I didn’t want to upset her any more, and she wasn’t going to be too popular with Shelley and Scott if none of us went now, so I just said, “Well, if that’s how you feel, all right, I understand. Anyway, you don’t have to decide now. We’ll decide on it tomorrow.” “Are we still going?” asked Scott, alarmed that his sister might have caused the expedition to be cancelled. “That depends on Charlotte,” I answered. “I’ll talk to her when she comes, and you’d better keep out of the way because you might open your big mouth too wide again. But Shelley, perhaps you can talk to her with me, but don’t push her about it. If she comes and then feels bad afterwards, it could still cause problems. We need to be sure she knows what it’s all about and is happy with it.” Then I went on, “If she does want to come, she’ll probably feel shy when we first arrive and we strip off. So, Scott, you must leave her to do it *by herself* if she wants. When we’ve undressed, Scott, you and I will go straight into the sea, all right? We’ll wait for her to join us then. Shelley, maybe you can stay behind with her while she undresses if she needs a bit of encouragement.” When Scott and I were preparing for bed, he turned to me and said indignantly, “Why did she give you a hug and not me?” I knew he was referring to Charlotte. “Well, two reasons, I think,” I said. “First of all, I’m much older, so she probably thinks of me more like a big brother, while if she gave you a hug, you or somebody else might say something silly about you being her boyfriend. And besides that, she can’t trust you yet. If you talk a bit less, and talk less about yourself as well and show more interest in her and in using good manners, she’ll know she’s safe with you.” “She must trust me or she wouldn’t have wanted to come to Playa Norigo,” argued Scott. “Well, we’ll see tomorrow if she really does want to come,” I answered. As we expected, the next day dawned hot and sunny. I threw back the curtains and the sun streamed in against the side wall. Scott lay on his back on his bed, naked again. “I don’t want Willy to get sunburnt at Playa Noriga,” he said. “Please can you put some sun cream on him for me.” “We don’t know if we’ll be going to Playa Noriga yet,” I said. “We still have to interview Charlotte.” “She wants to go,” responded Scott. “Please put cream on Willy so I don’t have to do it on the beach.” “All right, sir, if that’s what Your Lordship requires,” I said, acting like an English butler. I reached down and took hold of his soft little penis between my thumb and forefinger. “Too long? Shall I cut it off? Too short? Shall I stretch it? Too thin? Shall I pump it up? Too fat? Shall I stick a pin in it?” Scott giggled loudly. “No, silly, just put some cream on it,” he insisted, handing me the bottle. “Very well, sir,” I continued, shaking some cream on to my hand. “Massage it will be, then.” I slipped my hand under his little pink testicles and began rubbing in, feeling the little oval balls inside the cool wrinkled hairless little bag wobble around as I did so. Scott giggled again and wriggled, enjoying the feeling. I enjoyed the feeling too, massaging in the cream ever so gently. Then I held his penis again as before, applying a bit more cream right down at the stem and then working my way along its full three and a half centimetres, over the bulge and right to the end of the foreskin. It began to swell a little with Scott’s excitement as I did so. “There you are, sir,” I finished off. “I’m sure it will taste delicious. Would you like a cherry on top?” Scott giggled again, and jiggled his penis around happily. Then suddenly he looked uncertain. “What do you think Charlotte will think of it?” he asked anxiously. “She might - laugh at it.” “You should have thought of that before you invited her,” I grinned. “Anyway, it’s much bigger than anything she’s got.” “Her brothers will have bigger ones than me,” murmured Scott, pulling the end to see if it would stretch. “Don’t do that, you’ll pull it off!” I warned him jokingly. He looked at me anxiously to see if I was serious, and then said, “Can you make them bigger? I mean, all the time, not just when I wiggle it about.” “I don’t know of any way,” I said. “But with girls, I think if they learn to trust you, they’ll want you to trust them as well. So I don’t think Charlotte will say anything as long as you’re sensible. Of course, if you go introducing her to Willy and trying to play tricks with it, that may be different. I’m glad you weren’t waiting to ask her to put sun cream on for you. That can wait till you’re married.” Scott giggled. Then he asked, “What should I say to her when I take my clothes off, then?” “Well, don’t say anything,” I advised him. “If you feel a bit shy, I know you’ll want to hide it by saying something, but don’t. Just make it as natural as you can. You don’t say anything when you take your shoes off, do you? So don’t say anything when you take your underpants off, either. I never do. And certainly you mustn’t say anything at all when she takes any clothes off. I’m sure she won’t want you around when she does it, so make sure you aren’t. Remember, she’ll trust you much more quickly if she thinks you’re not going to be looking at her when she does it.” Scott stood there uncertainly, one hand idly down holding his penis between the ring he made with his thumb and bent forefinger. Only the very end of the tiny little thing was at all visible. He opened his hand for a moment and looked inside, as if to check it was really there. Then he said, “Maybe she’ll say it looks ugly.” I tried not to smile. “Listen, you have the cutest little penis I ever saw,” I told him. “It’s the big ones girls usually think are ugly. But if you act natural, she probably won’t say anything. Girls usually don’t, unless they feel embarrassed. So if you act quite natural, she’s less likely to get embarrassed.” Scott scratched under his testicles thoughtfully, watching himself in the mirror. Then he said, “It looks funny when I run. It bounces up and down.” “Don’t run, then,” I grinned. “Just walk.” (“Then it wobbles,” he interrupted.) “It will also look as if you don’t mind her seeing it. If you act embarrassed at all, then girls usually feel embarrassed as well. Then, like you, they might say something silly.” Scott thought again while I continued dressing. Then he asked, “What sort of underpants should I wear?” “Well, you didn’t seem to mind her seeing those last night,” I answered. “If you want her to say nothing, just wear plain ones. If you want to discuss underwear with her, then wear fancy ones.” Scott suddenly began to look interested. “I wonder what she’ll wear,” he said, taking out a fancy pair of bright blue Superman underpants. “I liked those ones she wore last night.” He grinned widely. “Did you see when I pushed her over when she was tickling me? I saw all her panties and she didn’t even know.” “Well, I hope you have more sense than to say anything now,” I answered, going into the bathroom and urinating into the bowl. “But you’re thinking too much about seeing things. The most important thing to me is that a girl trusts me so much that she wants me to see everything she has. That’s a really great feeling inside.” Scott followed me in, stood next to me, pulled back his foreskin and splashed his urine into the bowl next to mine. “Hey, I like the way Shelley does a wee,” he said. “She stands up and does it like a boy. I wonder how Charlotte wees. Maybe she’ll show me.” “You’d better never mention it,” I warned him, shaking my penis dry. “And don’t show off to her when you do it, either.” “If she trusts me, she’ll show me anything I want,” Scott claimed, shaking his penis dry too vigorously and sending drops of urine flying through the air. “And will *you* show *her* everything?” I asked him as we went back into the bedroom. He thought for a moment and then said, “If I can trust her I don’t mind. If she wants to, I’ll even take Willy’s jersey off for her.” To demonstrate, he pulled back his foreskin again, showing the tiny prepuce underneath with the hole at the end. He giggled. “Hey, Roy, it looks like an acorn when I have it like this.” At that moment a voice said, “Hi, boys,” and Shelley came in, wearing a flimsy little flowery sundress. Scott quickly pulled back his foreskin. He had no problem with Shelley seeing his penis, but perhaps the acorn was a bit too personal. In fact, the first time I met him, readers of `Marina’ will remember, he quite happily showed his penis to two girls in the back of the car. But today he was suddenly a bit afraid that Willy might not be up to Charlotte’s expectations. Marina was still not happy about going to Playa Norigo, and I didn’t put any pressure on her, or allow the other two to do that, either. She did try to keep her options open, though. As we left the breakfast table after eating with her parents, just after nine o’clock, she told them that she thought she might like to go on the boat today, but would talk to the rest of us about it before she decided, if that was all right with them. They were a little surprised to find she was considering spending the day apart from the rest of us, especially with Charlotte coming, but accepted it. Scott was really rather flushed and excited as we waited for Charlotte to arrive, and had to go to the toilet twice as we waited. As he was in the second time, just before half-past nine, the car arrived and Charlotte got out with her parents. I was disappointed to see that Charlotte was wearing shorts as she had threatened to do, pink ones with an elastic waist that were also rather too tight about the leg for my liking. She was wearing a bright orange T-shirt. She gave us her usual mischievous grin and looked around for Scott. After her parents had left, Scott came out and grinned at her shyly, tongue-tied for the moment. “Hey, Scott, I thought you had disappeared,” she said. “I was just inside,” he said, without further detail. Then, as we had arranged, he said, “I want to tell Mum something before we go. I’ll be back in a minute.” He scooted off to the next-door villa. “Let’s sit down here for a moment,” I suggested, squatting on the doorstep to our villa and patting the step next to me for Charlotte to sit too. Shelley sat down on the other side, while Marina, looking a little troubled, stood a couple of metres away. Then I said, as if I had just thought of it, “Charlotte, do you know where we’re going today?” Charlotte’s face lit up with excitement, but she also seemed a little nervous. “Yes, Scott said we’re going to a – a special beach,” she answered, voice slightly hushed as if telling a slightly guilty secret. She looked at me with her smile and clear blue eyes. “I didn’t bring my swimming costume. My bikini. I like wearing a bikini.” So Scott seemed to have been telling the complete truth. “Have you ever been to a nude beach before?” I asked her. “No,” she grinned, putting her hand to her mouth in a mischievous way. “But it sounds fun. I can’t play without my clothes at home because my brothers will see me.” “What did your mum and dad say about you going to a nude beach today?” I asked. “Nothing,” she answered. “Well, I didn’t tell them. Scott said I must keep it a secret.” “Well, I don’t want you getting into trouble about it,” I said cautiously. “No, I won’t tell them,” Charlotte grinned. “But even if I did, I don’t think they would mind very much. But I don’t want my brothers to know. They would be very silly.” “So could Scott!” I smiled. “Scott was silly about your panties last night, but you’re still willing to go with him to a nude beach?” She looked a bit nervous all of a sudden. “Well, I didn’t want to at first,” she said. “But he said he was sorry and promised not to say anything like that again. Then I asked if you would be going, and he said you would be in charge, so I said I would come.” “Why me?” I asked her, smiling into her sparkling mischievous eyes. “Well, I know you won’t let anything bad happen or anybody say anything silly,” she answered. She trusted me already! I smiled tenderly at her and reached out a hand to rub her on the shoulder. She laughed and snuggled up to me, resting her head for a moment against my shoulder. I put my arm right round her shoulders. “You’re very sweet,” I whispered to her. “I’ll look after you.” Marina looked quite disappointed to hear that we were going to Playa Norigo after all. “I’ll go and tell Scott you’re ready to go then,” she said to me, and walked away. She turned back, tried to smile and then said, “Have a nice time.” “Thanks.” I smiled rather weakly at her. “So sorry you’re not coming.” Charlotte looked surprised and disappointed. “Isn’t Marina coming with us?” she asked. “No,” I answered. “Her mum and dad might not want her to go, and she doesn’t want to do that.” “Is Scott coming?” she asked quickly. “Yes, Scott’s coming,” I answered, and saw the mixed emotions on her face. She liked Scott, but was clearly rather nervous about visiting a naturist beach with him, in spite of what she had said earlier. “Don’t worry, Scott will be all right,” I told her. “He does tease other people a bit sometimes, but he said he wouldn’t be silly with you again. Do you still think it’s going to be fun?” Charlotte sat up again and gave her big mischievous smile. “If you’re there I know it will be all right,” she said. (To be continued) MEDITERRANEAN HOLIDAY (CHAPTER 5) We set off for the bus stop, with Scott and Charlotte strangely subdued. I presumed that they were a little nervous at the prospect of their first visit to a naturist beach. We arrived at the bus stop at about five minutes to ten, to find the bus waiting but still almost empty. This was not really surprising, as people in this country are very lax about time and have a reputation of being late for everything – so naturally buses and trains rarely run on time either. There was a long seat at the back that was still empty, so the four of us took it. I had Scott and Charlotte sitting on my left and Shelley on my right. It was very hot inside the bus. Scott and I took off our shirts, which is considered quite acceptable in this country in public in the hot weather, while Shelley unbuttoned the front of her dress, which hung open far enough to see the waistline of her white panties. Charlotte had a T-shirt that she could not unbutton, so all she could do, seeing she didn’t want to take it off, was to untuck it from her shorts and let it hang loose. We all chattered quite a bit as the bus began to fill up, mostly with locals but with some holiday-makers as well. At last, about ten minutes late, the engine started and the bus began to rumble off. Scott and Charlotte suddenly fell rather quiet, as the anticipation of their first naturist beach became more real to them. I saw Scott wriggle in discomfort a couple of times and wondered what the matter was. Then I saw him surreptitiously slip his hand inside the leg of his shorts and fiddle with something inside. Willy was evidently misbehaving and giving him a few problems. Charlotte saw him, and was quite uninhibited. “What are you doing?” she asked curiously. Scott flushed a little. “My underpants are uncomfortable,” he explained. Then, to turn attention elsewhere, he began to tell her about our time on the beach two days earlier. “I forgot my swimming costume so I had to swim in my underpants,” he told her. He grinned and became more confident again. “Then when I went in the sea they came off and got swept away. So I had to come out with my hands over my piss” – he demonstrated – “because everyone else was wearing a costume, and I had to wear my shorts instead.” Charlotte giggled. “What are you going to wear today?” she asked. “At Playa Norigo? I’m going to wear nothing,” Scott told her. “It’s a naturist beach, so nobody will be wearing anything and it won’t matter.” “Don’t you mind people seeing your – seeing you with nothing on?” asked Charlotte curiously. “No, I don’t mind,” boasted Scott proudly but not quite truthfully. “I’ll show it to you now if you like.” He put his hands on the hem of his shorts, ready to oblige and pull it aside. Charlotte ignored his offer. “I wondered if we could just wear our underwear,” she said, giggling a bit with embarrassment. “Hell, no, not on a naturist beach,” exclaimed Scott. “It’s going to be exciting. You’ll see my underpants, too. I’m wearing my Superman underpants today. Look!” So saying, he pulled down the elastic of his shorts to reveal his bright blue underpants with a picture of Superman on the front. There was only a very small bulge at the bottom, so it seemed that Willy was now behaving a bit less aggressively. Charlotte looked with interest. “I’ve got a picture of Minnie Mouse on my panties,” she volunteered. “Show me,” said Scott immediately. Then he suddenly remembered, and stammered, “I mean – I – I won’t see them if you don’t want me to.” “I don’t mind as long as you don’t say anything rude,” Charlotte smiled at him. “Promise?” “Promise,” agreed Scott, trying to hide his eager anticipation. Charlotte’s shorts were not elasticated, so she undid the buckle at her waist and opened a few buttons to show white panties underneath, with a picture on the front of Minnie Mouse, who in turn was revealing her own frilly white panties as she so often does in cartoon pictures. “That’s nice. I haven’t seen that sort before,” said Scott, who was finding it rather difficult to know what to say. “Do you always wear white panties?” “No, I have different colours,” she told him, buttoning up the fly again. “I always wear white ones for school. But I have some pink ones and some blue ones. What about you?” “I have all sorts of different colours,” boasted Scott. “Do you have many with pictures?” They held quite an enlightening conversation about Charlotte’s underwear, in which they both obviously had an interest. But then they fell rather silent again as our destination drew near. They shivered in anticipation when I announced that we should get out at the next stop. We had been following a coastal route through one small town after another, with little countryside in between. Now we passed through about half a kilometre of open road, with a rocky beach on our right, before coming through to the next town, where Playa Norigo is. As we entered the little town, with holiday hotels on either side of the road, Scott and Charlotte were straining their necks trying to catch a glimpse of the beach without wanting to appear too interested. “You won’t be able to see the beach from the bus, according to the book I have,” I told them. “We have to walk over half a kilometre to get there. Right, we move out here,” I added as the bus began to slow down. We pushed our way down the aisle as the bus drew to a halt at the next stop. We dismounted, to find ourselves on the main street outside numerous shops and restaurants. “How do we get to the beach?” Scott wanted to know immediately. “Round the next corner, I expect,” I said, and led the way for about thirty metres along the side of the road before we came to the corner and turned right. There in front us was the sea, with a beach very much like the one at Fusari, with people in skimpy swimming costumes inhabiting it. “So where’s our beach?” demanded Scott impatiently. “That’s probably it round there,” I answered, pointing. About a hundred metres to our left was a small harbour, with at least twenty yachts and other pleasure craft in it, and plenty of room for more. Then the coast swung round across a wide bay, and we could see another beach on the other side of the harbour, and could see the tiny pink bodies of a large crowd of people on it. It was too far away to see whether they were clothed or not, though. We walked in that direction, Scott impatiently out in front. Charlotte clung to my arm and clearly wanted to talk to me. “Roy,” she whispered, looking anxious. “When we get on the beach – do we have to take our clothes off straight away?” “Not straight away,” I answered. “Don’t worry, we’ll find a base where we can put our bags, and you can change then if you like.” “Will everybody be naked?” she asked nervously. “I expect so,” I answered. “People would be very suspicious of anybody who kept their clothes on. But don’t worry – you’ll just be part of the crowd and nobody will be looking at you – unless you’re wearing clothes, of course! Then they might stare at you because you would be so different.” We were now walking past the harbour. There was a rocky area for about a hundred metres on the far side of it before the beach began, and there were a few fishermen of all ages using it, and some children rummaging around for shellfish. We could now see that the bodies on that beach were indeed uncontaminated by swimming costumes. Then we stepped down on to the sand, to be confronted by a notice announcing in various languages, `Naturist beach’. The sand here was rather gritty and the nearest people were about fifty metres further on. There the crowd began. “When do we take our clothes off?” Scott wanted to know from the front. “As soon as you like,” I answered. “But all the fishermen will be able to see you if you do it right now.” “Hey, Roy, imagine fishing like this,” giggled Scott, pretending to stick his penis out and use it as a fishing rod. “Scott, that’s rude,” Shelley rebuked him with a frown, and he shut up. We walked along the beach, with Scott scampering ahead. There were the same sort of people as on a normal beach – the odd individual, usually reading a book, couples, family groups, groups of teenagers, older people – only here they were all free of costumes. As soon as he arrived at the cleaner area of sand, where the crowd began, Scott flung off his shirt. Down came his shorts next, revealing his Superman underpants. He stood there for a moment, displaying them proudly to anybody who was interested, grinned at us, and then pulled them down. His little penis popped out and gleamed in the sunlight as he ran back towards us, holding his clothes in his hand. “Come on, everyone, this is great!” he enthused. “Come on, everyone, lets’ strip off now.” I didn’t have to be a mind-reader to guess that he was waiting eagerly for Charlotte to strip off. He stood in front of her, proudly displaying his little pink penis and the tiny scrotum hanging down, barely visibly, underneath, even though he was looking at me. She was looking at him with a sort of concerned fascination. Shelley was already slipping off her dress. I put down the communal bag I was carrying and began to undress as well. Charlotte looked most alarmed. “Roy, I thought you said we were going to find a base first?” she whined. “Well, that was for you,” I explained, removing my shorts. “You can stay dressed until then if you feel bad about it, but the rest of us want to start right now.” “Just wear your panties until then if you feel bad,” suggested Shelley, slipping out of hers. Charlotte was certainly feeling rather uncomfortable to be standing there clothed in a crowd of naked people, and with three friends who had suddenly stripped off before she was quite ready for it. She looked at my penis with some trepidation for a moment before looking away and taking her shirt off. Her flat little body showed clearly where her school swimming costume, one-piece, and her bikini had been, with three different sets of colouring. Her shoulders were brown, the place covered by her straps and her tummy were light brown, and the small area across her flat chest was very white. But she was in good company, for Scott’s bottom, normally covered by his costume, was also very white. Shelley and I had all-over tans, although they were slightly lighter in the areas normally requiring to be covered at school. “Quickly, Charlotte, let’s go,” Scott urged her, rather unwisely. She glanced at me, blushing slightly, but I just smiled and said, “No hurry. Don’t worry about it – it doesn’t matter.” Then she unbuckled her shorts and slipped them off. She gave me her clothes to put in the bag, wearing only her white panties with the Minnie Mouse picture on the front and a little edging of lace around the bottom. Shelley in the meantime was enjoying her nudity, and so was I. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of seeing her lovely slim naked body, as long as it stays that way. I only hope it isn’t spoilt as she gets older by misshapen breasts or too much pubic hair. As it is now, with her little pointed nipples and a tiny smattering of hair at the top of that lovely smooth vagina, she is perfect. She knows I worship her body, though, and she does show it off a little to me at times, standing there and enjoying my admiring gaze. We trust each other perfectly. We continued our way along the beach, picking our way through the crowd. There were a few clothed people in view, but they were all on the move to find their own spots, and most of them were stripping off to do so anyway now they were on the beach. Scott stared around, quite fascinated. Charlotte for the most part kept her head down, looking rather flushed and self-conscious. Shelley and I, of course, were used to it and revelled in our freedom. We passed a woman of about thirty or so coming out of the sea, dripping wet. Drops of water were sparkling in the sun from her mass of black pubic hair. Scott burst into giggles at the sight of her, and then stifled them quickly. He sidled up to me and hissed, “Hey, Roy, look at that woman. She looks like she’s got a big black hairy slug between her legs!” “It doesn’t matter,” I told him, my usual saying. “Naturists don’t bother about things like that.” Then a little later we passed a short, bald man weaving in the opposite direction, and Scott again burst into stifled laughter. Again he shared his reasons with me. “That man there,” he whispered. “His piss looks just like a big pork sausage!” “Do you want me to tell you what yours looks like?” I asked him. Fearing something rude, he clammed up and made no more personal comments. Charlotte looked at us with her big blue eyes, still somewhat fearfully, and I asked her kindly, “Where do you want to go for our base, Charlotte?” She smiled timidly and said, “Somewhere near the back, if we can get in.” She pointed to the back of the beach, where there were some sand dunes and a few scrubby trees. “There’s a place,” she said, pointing, but looking apprehensive as she anticipated the moment she would have to expose her secret area to the fresh air. The back of the beach seemed very popular, and it was crowded already, but we did see a space between two families. We headed for it, but before we got far another family had got there first. “Well, we’ll just keep walking until we find somewhere,” I said, guessing that Charlotte wanted to go at the back for extra privacy, so we would be looking down on the other people rather than have them looking down on us. About fifty metres further along, Charlotte suddenly gave a gasp and a squeal, and scuttled behind me. “What’s wrong?” I asked her. “Those two boys,” she hissed, pointing. “The ones hitting a ball to each other. They’re in the same class as me at school. They mustn’t see me!” Just ahead, amid the crowd, I could see two boys with wooden bats hitting a tennis ball to each other. The one on the far side, facing us, certainly looked a rather rough customer, with wiry fair hair and a pug face. I could only see the back of his partner, who as I watched bent over to pick up a ball, with his testicles dangling down between his legs. Both boys looked a year or two older than Charlotte, but I had learned that the English school she attended here was much smaller than ours in the capital, and there were two or three years in the same class. “Hey, who’s that guy facing us?” asked Scott excitedly. “Look what a big piss he’s got!” Sure enough we could easily see the boy’s long, thick ugly-looking penis, bouncing around at this moment as he jumped to hit a high ball. I thought I could make out a dark line of hair just beginning to grow above it. “That’s Greg, and he’s horrible,” answered Charlotte in fear. “The other boy is Rodney. They mustn’t see me! They’ll tease me so much if they see me here.” “I don’t see why they should tease *you*,” put in Shelley. “You could tease *them*, actually, because you can see their penises, but you’re wearing panties.” “Have you ever seen their wees before?” Scott wanted to know. “No – and I don’t want to look now,” blurted out Charlotte. “They look horrible and – and *grizzly*.” I only just managed to keep myself from laughing at Charlotte’s graphic description, but the other two thought it very funny. “Please be quiet – I don’t want them looking this way!” Charlotte urged them pitifully, still hiding behind my back. “If they do see you, I promise you I won’t allow them to say anything nasty to you,” I assured her. “No, but back at school you won’t be there,” Charlotte argued. “They’ll go round saying all sorts of horrible things about me. Last term Greg picked on a girl called Elizabeth and he told everyone he had slept with her and said she had a big soft pussy, and she was most upset. Please, can we go back?” “No, we’re not going back!” retorted Scott indignantly. “Look, there’s plenty of beach and I’m sure we can get past without their seeing you,” I assured Charlotte. “If we go round that side, I’ll hold the bag like this and you can just walk on the other side of me, and I’m sure they won’t see you at all. Then we’ll go right down to the end of the beach, far away from them.” “At least give me my shorts back,” she said, reaching in the bag for them. “Your shorts are too bright,” Shelley told her. “You’ll stand out too much against all these skins. Even your panties will show up a bit, so they’ll be least likely to see you if you take them off.” “No,” was all Charlotte said, quite miserably. She looked back over her shoulder, and was obviously thinking of returning home. (To be continued) MEDITERRANEAN HOLIDAY (CHAPTER 6) “Look, I’ve an idea,” said Shelley. “I’ll create a diversion.” I was impressed - that was the first time I had heard her use the term. “You walk round that side, hiding behind Roy and Scott, and I’ll go the other side. I’ll talk to them and pretend I know them, and while they’re looking at me you can sneak past behind them – and there’s plenty of room. Okay?” Charlotte thought, then nodded her head slowly. “Good,” said Shelley firmly, and before there were any more objections she set off round towards the back of the beach, where it was less crowded apart from the families on the dunes some way further back. “Shelley doesn’t mind them seeing her naked!” exclaimed Charlotte, watching after her in amazement. “They might be so rude to her.” “Shelley doesn’t mind a bit, and she can be rude back,” I grinned. As I looked at the boys, Greg produced a hard shot that hit Rodney on the cheek. He stood there and laughed, scratching his testicles, while Rodney swore at him and bent to collect the ball, his own testicles again showing through his legs as he bent over. “Hey, that guy’s sure got a big piss,” said Scott again in awe of Greg, absent-mindedly cupping his own genitals in his hand as he watched. “Charlotte, does he have to wear a special swimming costume at school to fit it all inside?” “I didn’t notice,” she answered rather miserably. “Do you wish you had one that size?” I grinned at Scott. “Well – not quite as big as that,” Scott admitted. “I hope not,” Charlotte put in with some disgust. “Yours looks quite all right but Greg’s is so ugly. I hate those big ones.” Scott looked quite taken aback that Charlotte should pass a comment about his penis, even if it was a favourable one. But at that moment I saw Shelley, from the far side, walk towards the boys and greet them cheerfully just as they were about to resume hitting. “Right, let’s go,” I said, putting my arm round Charlotte on the far side of me and starting to walk, taking a path some distance away from them, almost by the edge of the sea. Scott followed on behind me, to try to ensure that Charlotte was completely hidden. I was certain that, even if Shelley was not doing her bit, they would not have seen Charlotte, hidden behind me in quite a crowd, except for the fact that her white panties did stand out among so much bare flesh. As we marched quickly on, I could see Shelley and the boys engaged in some sort of argument, and I could guess from the gestures she was making that she was trying to persuade them to let her play. They were getting quite annoyed with her, and I could hear their upraised voices as she teased them. When we were well past them and almost out of sight, I could see her walking away towards the dunes, grinning. They were glaring after her. They spoke to each other for a few seconds, then Greg shrugged his shoulders and they got back to their game. Shelley wisely did not come straight to us, but continued to walk near the dunes until they really were out of sight. Then she walked down the beach to join us. “Well, it worked,” she grinned. “You’re very brave,” said Charlotte in admiration. “What did you say to them?” “Well, I said `Hello, Greg, hello, Rodney’ nice and loudly, and they just stared at me,” Shelley laughed. “They’d no idea who I was. Then I asked to join in their game, and they wouldn’t let me. So I kept pestering them, and they got mad at me. Greg even said I must go to bed with him if I wanted a game. So I told him he was too ugly for that, and he started swearing at me.” “Well, it worked, because they never looked in our direction at all,” I said. “You feel safe now, Charlotte?” “Thank you very much,” Charlotte remembered to say shyly. We worked our way down towards the far end of the beach, walking perhaps another kilometre, to put as much distance between ourselves and the boys as possible, for Charlotte’s peace of mind. It seemed that she had not really thought too much about the possibility of meeting people she knew, as she was now looking rather fearfully around all the time, hoping there was nobody who would recognise her. “What’s the matter – are you afraid of meeting anyone else from your school?” I asked her. She nodded. “I didn’t think – there might be anybody else here,” she said. “Well, you know, all the people who come here are naturists, like Shelley and me,” I told her. “We’re so used to seeing people without their clothes on that we really don’t notice, or think anything bad of it. So even if somebody you know did see you here, it wouldn’t be any big deal for them. They wouldn’t think or say anything bad to you, or about you.” “Those boys would,” said Charlotte very definitely, with a shudder. “If they did see you naked, how do you think you should behave?” I asked her. “I don’t know.” She shuddered at the thought. “The best way is just to act confidently, even though you don’t feel that way,” I told her. “If you show them that you mind them seeing you, they will probably tease you all about it. But if you can make them think you don’t mind at all, they won’t think there’s any purpose in teasing you.” Charlotte thought about it. “I’ll try, but I hope it doesn’t happen,” she said. “It’s hard.” Just as we were talking, we heard a shout from the sea to our right. “Hey, Charlotte! Charlotte!” Charlotte gave a gasp, tried to hide behind me, and then looked round me to see who it was. A small boy of about five or six was coming out of the sea towards her, waving furiously. “It’s Stuart! He’s a boy from just down the road to me,” she gasped. Stuart ran towards us, shouting, “Hello, Charlotte! Charlotte, come play with us!” He stood before us, with a cheerful friendly freckly face, light brown hair and a big smile. His cute little penis looked as sun-tanned as the rest of him. It was slightly smaller even than Scott’s, but then he was a few years younger. He grinned at us, and certainly wasn’t shy of strangers. “I like this place,” he told us happily. “We can play here without our clothes on. Charlotte, look at my wee.” He held it out towards her, foreskin neatly covering it to the end. Scott giggled at his lack of inhibition. “What a lovely little wee,” he grinned. “You’re just so relieved to find someone with a smaller penis than you’ve got,” Shelley told him curtly, realising that he was making fun of Stuart. “It’s bigger than what you’ve got,” retorted Scott, pulling his penis in her direction and looking at her flat vagina. “I don’t have one and I don’t want one,” Shelley informed him. “That’s a pity because you could have had Stuart’s,” grinned Scott. Stuart looked slightly alarmed, taking Scott seriously. “No one’s going to take my wee,” he stated, holding it safely between his fingers. “I was just showing you.” He looked at Charlotte, who was trying her best to follow my advice and appear unconcerned. “Hey, that’s Minnie Mouse,” he said, releasing his little penis to point. “I saw you in your panties, and then I saw it was you. Why are you wearing your panties? You can take them off in this place.” Charlotte stood dumbfounded, not knowing how to reply. Stuart pulled her by the hand and said, “Come play with us in the sea.” I came to her rescue. “Maybe later, thanks very much,” I said. “Charlotte is our guest here today and she’s coming along with us this time.” “I want to play with Charlotte,” he said, rather disappointed. “Come back soon, Charlotte. Why are you wearing your panties?” “Yes, I’ll come back soon,” Charlotte assured him untruthfully. “See you later, Stuart.” He waved and ran back towards the sea, his tight little bottom as brown as the rest of him. Charlotte looked worried. “He’s brown all over,” she said. “I never knew he was a naturist. I wish he hadn’t seen me.” “Your panties stand out so people can see you in the middle of all this skin,” Shelley pointed out to her. “If you took them off, people wouldn’t notice you so much.” Charlotte looked worried. “She’ll take them off when she feels ready,” I said casually. “Let’s go.” We continued towards the far end of the beach, with little Stuart shouting and waving after us. Even over there most of the places by the dunes had been taken. In the end, just before the beach came tapering in to meet a headland, we decided to make our base. There were only small spaces between the people and families who had taken up their positions near the dunes, so we would not have much privacy. Charlotte was really the only one of us concerned with privacy, though, so we invited her to choose where to go. In the end, after much dithering, she chose a place between a young couple who were very engrossed in each other and a pile of bags that had obviously been left by a family who were probably in the sea. “Come on, let’s go!” urged Scott to the rest of us, with a sidelong glance at Charlotte. “Okay, Scott,” I agreed, preparing to leave Shelley to help Charlotte with the difficult part of removing her panties, as we had previously agreed. I was just on the point of setting off with Scott when there was a plaintive wail from Charlotte. “Roy, please don’t leave me!” I turned back. “It’s all right, Shelley will stay with you until you’re ready,” I reassured her. “Then you can come with her.” “I want you to stay,” Charlotte replied, looking at me pleadingly. “I’ll go with Scott, then,” suggested Shelley, and as Charlotte did not protest, the two of them ran off towards the sea. Charlotte looked nervously after them, biting her lip. They had to weave their way through crowds of people as they ran down to the deep blue sea, where the waves were splashing gently on the shore. There were people everywhere but, as I had said, we were lost in the crowd and there was nobody watching us. Charlotte had made up her mind what to do, though, it seemed. “The sea looks great – lovely and cool,” I said by way of encouragement, as I stood looking idly out to sea, just in case she wanted to remove her panties behind my back. That, it seemed, was just what she did want. I suddenly felt two arms wrapped around my neck as she leapt up on my back, calling out in my ear, “Giddy-up, horsey! Let’s go!” I tried to start off too quickly, as she had taken me by surprise and I was off balance. I caught my foot in a scrubby plant that was trying to grow in the dunes, put my other foot in a hole as I tried to regain my balance, and ended up tumbling right over. “Look out!” I called, as I fell, putting out my hands in front to save me. I landed on my elbows in the soft sand, while Charlotte tumbled over my head. Fortunately it was a soft landing for her, as she sprawled and rolled over with a scream. She landed on her side and rolled on to her back, and I saw her legs spread-eagled wide, with a long slit down the middle. She gave a gasp and a sort of long sob, but then decided she wasn’t hurt after all and changed her mind about crying. “Sorry, Charlotte, you took me by surprise,” I apologised, getting up into a crouch and looking at her as she sat up dizzily with her legs still sprawled apart. Her little vagina was spread apart with a little piece of white flesh showing in the middle, but she had forgotten about that for a moment in the shock of the fall. “Are you all right?” “Ye – es, I think so,” she gasped. She put her hands behind her to push herself up again, with help from her legs, knees up and bent. She was halfway up when she suddenly realised that in that position I would be able to see her vagina, and with a gasp she quickly whipped a hand over it, almost falling over again in the process. “Let’s try again,” she grinned, blushing at her own nakedness, and began to walk round behind me with a hand still covering her vagina. I reached out an arm and drew her to me. “You’re lovely,” I told her, smiling into her blue eyes. “I’m so glad you’ve come with us today.” “I still feel shy,” she murmured, smiling coyly with her head on one side. “But I know I’m safe with you, really.” She gave me a kiss, and I responded with a gentle one on the cheek, hoping Scott wasn’t watching. Then she climbed on to my back and I set off down towards the sea, weaving in and out among the families on the sand. It took a minute or two to spot Shelley and Scott in the sea, which was quite thick with bodies, all naked. I suspected that Charlotte had decided she wanted a piggyback so as to ensure her vagina, pressed into my back, was not open to public viewing on the way to the sea. I plunged into the water and almost lost my balance again as the little waves dragged at my ankles. “Hi, Roy! Hi, Charlotte!” Scott called out from deeper water, waving at us. He began to work his way towards us, no doubt drooling at the prospect of seeing Charlotte naked. She squealed, perhaps thinking the same thought. “Quick, Roy, get away from him!” she urged me. I did my best, but it wasn’t easy, encumbered with her on my back as the water rose to my groin and I couldn’t use my hands to propel myself for holding on to her legs. Scott soon caught up with us, with Shelley not far behind. “My turn now, Charlotte,” yelled Scott, grabbing her from behind and trying to pull her off. I struggled to get away, and we all fell over, Charlotte screaming and laughing at the same time. “Roy, help me!” she called, still laughing and reaching out her hands towards me as Scott caught her round the shoulders and started dragging her away from me. I grabbed for her and she kicked a leg up for me to pull. I quickly found her other leg and pulled. Her torso was now up almost to the level of the water, and I could see Scott staring over her shoulder as he greedily tried to catch a glimpse of her most private place. As Scott pulled harder, I let go and they both fell over in a spray of giggles and water. They both scrambled to their feet, still laughing, in water that came up to their hips. “Scott, leave us alone, you naughty boy!” Charlotte scolded, slapping playfully at him. “Can’t catch me!” he teased her cunningly, dodging out of the way and splashing towards the shallow water. Seemingly unconcerned about her nakedness now, she splashed after him. He turned to face her, still laughing, and now the water was low enough for him to fill his eyes with Charlotte’s naked beauty. Not that I would begrudge it to him. Just as I was enjoying the sight of those two, so naked and enjoying themselves so uninhibitedly, I felt a strong pull at my leg. Shelley had approached me under water from the back and was trying to topple me over. I kicked out at her and then splashed down on top of her. As I looked up, Scott and Charlotte were on their way towards us to share in the fun. (To be continued) MEDITERRANEAN HOLIDAY (CHAPTER 7) We had plenty more fun in the sea before we began to get hungry and think of lunch. The guide book I had read had mentioned that there were a few caravans on the beach which sold food to the bathers, and I had noticed them on our way up, so I suggested that we went there and then had lunch up by the dunes. We had to go up to the dunes first to fetch my money from my bag. I hadn’t given a thought before to the safety of the stuff, but it was all still there, and I knew this part of the country had a good reputation for being crime-free. The couple on one side of us looked to be fast asleep in the sun, lying with their arms round each other. On the other side the family that had left their belongings here were just packing up to leave. There was a married couple with two small boys, aged about five and three. The older one came up and stared gravely at us as I collected my money, his little penis fat at the top but tapering down almost to a point at the bottom. When I said “Hello” to him, he turned away shyly. “I hope we get nice neighbours coming there next,” said Charlotte as we set off for the nearest caravan. “Or nobody at all. I don’t want big boys there like Greg or Rodney.” “Ooh, it would be fun to have all my class here,” chortled Scott. “I can just think of them, all naked on this beach! I wonder if Christie’s boobs . . .” I glanced at him and he dried up, realising he was out of line again, especially with Charlotte there. She had heard him, though. “My boobs haven’t started properly yet,” she announced the obvious with a smile. “It must be a nuisance having to wear a bra. Shelley, do you ever wear a bra?” “No, I don’t want to,” answered Shelley, fingering her small pointy breasts. “Rather not wear clothes at all when it’s hot. Roy says I’m fine without a bra.” “Look at that woman there,” giggled Scott, pointing at a dark woman sitting in the sun with two big melons hanging right down over her stomach. “It must be awful having them that big.” “A lot of girls want to have big ones,” Charlotte informed him. “Just like boys want to have big wees, like Greg’s.” I thought the conversation was going slightly astray and might zero in on Scott’s undernourished penis, so I said, “You know, proper naturists don’t bother about that sort of thing at all. We know people are all shapes and sizes, but we don’t bother. You three just happen to have beautiful bodies, all of you, so it’s not good to talk about others.” “Beautiful bodies,” giggled Shelley, although I had told her that about herself often enough before. “Especially Charlotte,” put in Scott unexpectedly, for some reason, looking Charlotte’s little bare body up and down with a smile of appreciation on his face. Fortunately Charlotte seemed quite taken with the compliment, and she smiled and blushed charmingly, but did move one hand shyly down next to her cute little vagina, half-covering it for a moment. “I don’t want you to have big boobs.” “Some boys look ugly naked,” Charlotte told them. “Especially Greg. But you look very nice, Scott.” Scott wasn’t quite sure how to take this, and he looked rather self-conscious about his penis for a moment, fingering it thoughtfully. Then he changed his mind, took it in his hand as if he was showing it to her and said, “I don’t mind you seeing it.” “I think Shelley looks better than me, though,” said Charlotte. “When she’s naked, I mean. She has a sun tan all over, but I’m very white under my costume.” Scott stared at her white loins a little too long, and I thought she began to look uncomfortable. Then he walked right into the back of a woman standing talking with a friend, and had to apologise in embarrassment. By now we had reached the caravan, situated near the rear of the beach about a hundred metres back from where we had settled. We joined the queue, behind a talkative bunch of nude teenage girls, probably a little younger than myself. I noticed Scott staring in fascination at the light covering of hair between their legs, sometimes hiding the vagina completely and sometimes leaving the bottom part as yet still exposed. We bought what we wanted and stood for a moment next to the caravan to take our first mouthfuls, as we were now feeling starved. Just then we heard a voice calling excitedly, “Scott! Hi, Scott! Scott!” A family was passing by, clothed and carrying their bags, so clearly they had just arrived. There were two girls there, and the younger one, about Scott’s age, was calling to him and waving delightedly. “Hello, Scott!” she called again. Scott seemed quite taken by surprise. He stared at her and instinctively clasped a hand over his penis. Then, perhaps realising how silly it would look on this beach, he moved it away slightly, but still clutching the inside of his thigh. He went slightly red, but in the end recovered himself enough to splutter out, “Hi, Penny.” “Who’s that?” Charlotte wanted to know. “She’s in my class at school,” he answered, still looking most uncomfortable. Penny had no reservations about meeting somebody she knew on a naturist beach, though. She came dashing up to us, beaming at Scott. She was quite a nice-looking girl, with shoulder-length light-brown hair and a wide inquisitive face. She reminded me of somebody, but I wasn’t sure who. She was wearing a thin, pale blue dress with a flowery pattern round the collar. “I never knew you came here as well!” she exclaimed. “Well, I didn’t know *you* came here,” Scott replied defensively, keeping a hand near his penis and tweaking it nervously with his fingers. “I was hoping and hoping I’d meet somebody I knew here,” Penny carried on excitedly. “Where are you sitting? May we sit with you, please?” “Yes, we’ve got a space next to us,” Charlotte put in, keen to meet another girl she could talk to. “We’re up there, near the end.” She pointed. “Oh, goody, I’ll ask my mum and dad,” Penny beamed, turning and running back to her parents. There was an older sister too, called Shirley, I soon discovered. Shirley was much darker in complexion than Penny, like her father who looked like a local man who had married an English woman. Shirley was quite tall, a little on the thin side, with big brown eyes and long dark brown hair that was plaited down the back, right down past her waist. She looked a pleasant, intelligent girl, and immediately something about her reminded me a bit of Marina - her manner rather than her looks, although they both have dark hair and eyes. Shelley actually knew Shirley a little before, as Shirley had been a year behind her at the English junior school. So Shelley walked over as well to say hello, while Penny talked excitedly to her parents. I thought I should follow, and heard her father say, “Well, certainly, if they’re happy to have us join them.” I glanced round to see Scott hanging back, but I was sure he would soon get over what was really something of a shock for him, and I couldn’t very well refuse just for his sake. Shelley turned round and introduced me to Penny. “This is Roy. He’s in charge of us,” she said. Penny’s dad heard that and said, “Roy? Not the Roy who saved those girls at the high school camp, is it?” I smiled and muttered something, and then said, “We’re sitting up there by the dunes, so you’re all welcome to join us if you like.” The two parents both smiled at me, and had obviously heard an impressive report of what I had done. “Thank you very much,” smiled the mother. “We’ll follow you,” beamed the father. He turned, stared some distance into the crowd and then waved to somebody and pointed towards our place on the dunes. “Our oldest daughter,” he explained. “She’s following behind us - if she feels like it!” Penny went back to Scott and started chatting to him. Despite what he had boasted about earlier to Charlotte, Scott seemed to feel at a disadvantage when naked talking to a fully dressed girl, but I was sure he would liven up a bit when the time came for her to take her clothes off. Looking at how pleased she had been to see him, I was sure she would not be put out at all to undress in his presence. She looked to be quite comfortable with the nudity around us. I led the way among the sunbathers towards our place by the dunes, and could see that the spare place next to us had not yet been taken. On the way the parents asked me a few questions about what had happened on that camping adventure, and were very complimentary about what I had done. When we arrived there, the four of us sat down to eat our food while Penny’s family undressed. Shelley went straight over to Shirley and began talking to her. I sized Shirley up quickly. She was wearing a white shirt and a pretty dark green skirt that came down to her knees. “What’s this that mum and dad were saying about Roy?” I heard her ask Shelley as she began to slip her shirt off over her head. It seemed she hadn’t heard the story. “Roy, come,” Shelley beckoned to me, and then started to tell the story of how we arrived by accident at an old quarry, as related in my story, `Camping Adventure’. Shirley, topless, looked at me in admiration. She has a lovely light brown skin and her little breasts are perhaps only about four or five centimetres wide but stick up sharply and sweetly from her chest. She began to unbutton the top of her skirt. Suddenly I found her most attractive, and enjoyed her beauty as she undressed. While Shelley told the story, Shirley slipped her skirt down to her ankles, revealing lovely soft pale pink panties underneath, with just a little embroidery around the crotch. Next to her Penny was much quicker. Scott, as I had figured, was now willing to be associated with her at this stage. I noticed his little penis had grown suddenly and was beginning to stick out a little, but Penny, like a true naturist, seemed quite unconcerned if she noticed at all. She was beginning to get to know Charlotte now, talking to her enthusiastically. Within seconds Penny had whipped her dress off over her head, showing a chest without breasts yet but looking slightly padded over the area, in preparation for puberty. She wore very nice-looking plain white panties, smooth and rounded over her body and between her legs. She sat down and whipped those off as well, still talking to Charlotte, revealing a fleshy mound and an ample vagina down the middle of it. I could feel rather than see Scott staring in fascination, and knew his heart was beating in excitement. Looking casually back to Shirley, I was just in time to see her remove her panties, still listening while Shelley told her story. She is a little slimmer than Penny, and her skin a little darker. Her mound is less prominent, and I felt the familiar warmth in my loins as I saw her light-brown skin run smoothly down to a narrow vagina between her legs. She looked at me, and we smiled warmly at each other. The girls continued talking to each other as they applied sun cream. Penny spread her legs wide to rub the cream between her legs, which opened her vagina to reveal a white clitoris apparently attached to the top inside. Scott squatted, no doubt to get a better view, and I could see him clutching at his penis, unable to control it any longer. Fortunately nobody else seemed to be taking any notice of him at the moment. Shirley, more ladylike, did not spread her legs so wide when treating that area of her body, and her lovely little slit remained closed during the operation. Talking slowed them down, and their parents were ready before they were. “Hurry up, girls,” called their mother gaily as the two of them jogged off down the beach towards the sea, brown bottoms wobbling as they ran. “Oh, please stay till we’ve had our lunch,” begged Shelley, still talking to Shirley. Both the girls agreed, eager and excited to talk, and soon we were sitting round in a group, Shirley and Penny talking and listening while the rest of us ate. They sat cross-legged, unashamedly exposing their vaginas, with the lips of Penny’s still a little apart to give a glimpse of the clitoris within. They did not want to share our food, as they had just eaten and had come to the beach after lunch. Scott sat opposite them, too overcome by the experience it seemed to talk much. His heels were together, his hands holding his ankles but his knees were spread wide to the side. His penis was still a little swollen, but not too badly, and his little pink testicles were sitting peacefully underneath. At one point something must have irritated Penny’s vagina, as she reached a hand down there and rubbed the side of it with her thumb as she was talking. This pulled it open slightly more, revealing a sliver of something inside that looked a shiny white colour. This was too much for Scott. He scrambled to his feet, muttering something about needing the toilet, and disappeared up the sand dune behind us. None of the others took much notice, but I did see him clutch his penis as if in serious pain as he disappeared from view. “Where do you go to the toilet on a nude beach?” asked Charlotte, the thought suddenly occurring to her. “We usually just go into the sea,” answered Penny. “Or if we’re too far away we dig a hole and wee into it, then cover it up.” Then they carried on their normal conversation. A few minutes later Scott returned, looking slightly red in the face and with his penis still sticking out a little. He came and sat down again opposite the girls, clearly relishing the place with the best view. I have never known him so quiet. It’s a serious job getting educated as a naturist when you haven’t grown up with it. He had just sat down when Shirley pointed back up the beach in the direction we had come from and said, “Ah, here comes Andrea. At last!” We gathered this was the oldest sister, and I glanced round to have a look. Suddenly I realised that I knew her, and this was who Penny had reminded me of when I first saw her. This Andrea is in the second form at the English high school I attend, although I didn’t know her at all well, not well enough to know that she had two charming younger sisters. She is in the year above Shelley and Marina, so Shelley recognised her too and said straight away, “Oh, I know Andrea. But I didn’t know she was your sister.” I didn’t think much of Andrea, to be honest, and I still don’t. For a start, she likes make-up and jewellery, which most naturists ignore completely, and she also struck me as being rather silly and vain. I do remember that she was once in trouble for wearing nail varnish at school, and she was wearing it again now, a hideous dark pink colour. As I said, she and Penny look a little alike, but while Penny looks pleasant, Andrea has a rather wild look in her eyes. She was still clothed, but only just, wearing a short black mini-skirt and carrying a large handbag. She had with her a very wimpish-looking naked boy of about her own age, straight out from England by the looks. He had pale and rather effeminate features, greasy-looking fair hair, hairy legs and a long, limp-looking penis with a little sprout of pale hair at the top. “Hello, everybody,” she greeted, looking round at the group with two black eyes, compliments of some eyeshadow or something she had smeared on. “This is Harold.” Then she saw me. “Roy!” she exclaimed, in what sounded like feigned excitement. “Fancy seeing you here!” She looked down at my penis with obvious interest. I returned her greeting rather coolly, then she greeted Shelley. “Mum and Dad in the sea, then?” she asked her younger sisters, turning and bending to put down her handbag and in the process exposing a pair of very small, frilly white panties at the back, half-stuck up her bottom. Harold gave a muffled giggle. “Well, I had better join all of you, hadn’t I?” she said in her artificial voice. “I’m the only one still with clothes on here.” She was standing opposite me, and I could see she was about to put on something of a performance for me, although she wasn’t looking directly at me. For my part, I pretended I wasn’t looking, keeping my eyes on Penny, who was sitting nearly in front of her and talking excitedly about something or other, but I was very much aware of what was going on. She did everything very slowly, just like an expert striptease artist might be expected to do. I wouldn’t know, though - I’ve never seen one and don’t want to. Who needs to, as a naturist? I can see much more natural beauty almost whenever I want to. First of all Andrea reached up behind her neck to undo the clasp there. As she put her arms up at the top, her skirt also rode up at the bottom, as I’m sure she knew. She had quite long legs that seemed to go on up for ever, apart from a thin, frilly, flimsy-looking strip of white panties up the middle. The gusset was so frilly as to be slightly transparent, and at the bottom I could just make out a darker vertical line through the material that was obviously her vagina. She made quite a meal of undoing that clasp. Harold, sitting to one side, was quite openly watching her, or rather watching up her skirt, with a goofy grin on his face. He was sitting with his knees up, arms around them, with his long weary penis trailing on his towel underneath like a pink hosepipe. At last Andrea managed to get it undone, and she slipped her dress off over her head. Her panties were indeed quite tiny, not much more than a silky thong, tied at the side with strings, and there were little light-brown hairs sticking out at the side and at the bottom. Above that was a large area of slightly tanned midriff, with a tiny frilly white bra at the top. Harold was sitting there grinning, obviously enjoying the show. I could see Charlotte looking at the intentional display of deliberately sexy underwear with slightly alarmed curiosity. Over on the other side, Scott could not help showing his fascination, staring almost with mouth open and one hand touching his penis. Andrea didn’t seem to like this - she wanted admiration, not curiosity. She looked at him and said, with a touch of ice in her voice, “This your first time at a naturist beach, little boy?” Scott stared at her but seemed too awestruck to answer. She looked at him with a bit of scorn and said, a little too sweetly, “That’s a nice little willy you have there.” Scott at last found his tongue and was able to give as good as he got. “It’s not as ugly as your boyfriend’s,” he said. The startled look on the younger girls’ faces showed that they thought that Scott was being rather rude, but it certainly shut Andrea up. Harold looked rather uncomfortable, but pretended to take no notice. Andrea began to remove her bra, but she seemed to decide that I was taking no notice of her when she wanted it, so she began to speak to me. “Roy, where are you staying?” she began, dropping her bra to the ground and revealing lightly tanned breasts, long half-grown points that I didn’t really fancy at all. At least it gave me the opportunity to look at her fully, though, which was what she wanted, but I did my best to hide any interest in her body. She continued to question me as she removed her panties. The top of her vagina was covered in light fair hair, but the bottom was just visible between her legs. She turned round briefly to bend over and pick up her towel, deliberately I’m sure to show me up her backside and the bottom part of her vagina, which reached down between her legs until it appeared to join her crack at the back. Then she sat down, continuing to question me, crossing her legs so that her vagina gaped enough to give a small view inside at the bottom. Harold was watching all this with a bemused smile on his face, while Scott was trying not very successfully to keep his eyes elsewhere. This exhibition was not naturism at all, and I felt rather disgusted. Her sisters were sitting there with legs crossed, true enough, Penny’s vagina still slightly open and Shirley’s still pressed gently together, but that was in innocence. Andrea knew what she was showing and doing it deliberately. (To be continued) MEDITERRANEAN HOLIDAY (CHAPTER 8) “I’d better put some cream on,” Andrea decided after a few minutes, speaking to me. “I never manage to get it properly on my back, though.” This was an obvious hint to me to offer to put it on for her, but I said nothing. Harold was eager, though. “I’ll do it,” he gushed, about the first time he had spoken apart from a brief hello when he came. He had a voice that matched the rest of him, very effeminate and very upper-class English. Andrea I suspect would have preferred me, but she allowed Harold to do it. He came round to sit next to her and took the tube, rubbing the cream all over her back while she leaned forward. “Does that feel good, now, darling?” he asked when he had finished, putting an arm round her shoulders. “Oh yes, thank you,” smiled Andrea, leaning back on his arm. Quite deliberately they both rolled over backwards together, giggling, giving the whole world a brilliant view up their legs. Andrea’s private parts were visible right from the middle of her bottom through the dark pink skin under her legs and up her vagina to the growing hair at the top. Harold’s penis, suddenly not quite limp any longer, was emerging from its foreskin and looking up Andrea’s vagina with interest, stretching for it. His big wrinkled hairy scrotum wobbled and twitched underneath. There was more artificial laughter, and they kicked their legs as they wrestled together. I felt absurdly like giving out a mocking hoot of laughter, but kept quiet with the younger ones there. It was a bit too much even for the genuine naturists among them, though. “Andrea,” reproved Shirley, frowning at her. “We can see right up . . .” She didn’t finish the sentence. Scott I could see was staring at their exposed genitals with bemused wonder. Andrea took no notice, so I thought that, as the oldest there, I should put a stop to it, for the sake of the younger ones. Naturism is natural, and deliberate exhibitionism is not naturism. “That’s enough, you two,” I said to them sharply. “There are younger ones around.” My authority at school seemed to work with Andrea, and Harold was clearly a wimp. They slowly sat up, looking rather guilty. Andrea tried to recover herself and said, “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to stay here.” “No, we don’t,” I replied. We had all finished our lunch by now, although I think Scott was too excited to eat much. “Come on, everyone, let’s go into the sea now.” They all stood up, and we ran down to the sea together, leaving the two lovers behind without an audience. We splashed into the water, which was thick with other bathers. “Come on, Charlotte, let’s duck Roy!” shouted Scott, as we splashed out into water that reached up almost to their waists. He leapt on me and Charlotte, laughing, joined in, although less roughly. Shirley and Penny in the meantime were off to join their parents. It was the old rough-and-tumble, so as usual I picked Scott up, howling with laughter, and put him over my shoulder, feeling his slippery smooth wet skin under my hands and his penis wobbling against my shoulder. As Charlotte reached up for my neck to join in the fun, I dropped him head-first in the water and grabbed for her. I held her soft wet body tightly in my arms with her laughing head pressing against mine, wet hair in my face. Under my hands I could feel her firm little wet bottom as I held her. I swung forward, and she let go of my neck to flop upside down while I held her legs under my armpits, that delightful little vagina right in front of my eyes, not at all puffy as some of them are, but flat and tight. I swung her up again, and at that moment Scott decided to attack me. As I swung Charlotte up, she laughingly kicked out with her feet, and her heel accidentally caught Scott right in the testicles as he leapt for me. I heard him give a loud scream and collapse into the water, bent double. Charlotte had felt her foot kick something hard, and she wriggled round to see what it was. “Oh, Scott, I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed. I half-dropped her into the water and grabbed hold of Scott, who was in such pain that he could hardly keep his head above the water. He was howling loudly, face bright red and quite doubled over, and causing nearby bathers to turn and stare at what was happening. I picked him up in my arms, curled into a little ball and yelling in agony, and carried him back to the beach, with Charlotte following very anxiously. Shelley, who had not joined in our fun for some reason, trailed along behind. I found a space on the beach and laid Scott down. He lay on his back, legs curled up like a baby, hands clutched over his testicles and the end of his penis sticking out absurdly at one side. He was still crying loudly. “I didn’t mean to,” explained Charlotte anxiously. “I didn’t know he was there. I didn’t know it was sore for a boy to be hit in the wee.” “It’s not the penis that hurts, it’s the testicles, in that little floppy bag thing underneath,” Shelley explained, teaching Charlotte the facts of life. Charlotte looked blank, so Shelley went on. “They’re like little round balls,” she told her. “And they’re inside that little pink bag. And if you hit a boy there it really hurts him. I know of a boy who got kicked there by a horse once. He couldn’t even wee properly and they had to take him to hospital.” Charlotte looked very shocked. “Roy, will Scott have to go to hospital?” she asked, quite frightened and upset. “I’m sure he won’t,” I said, noticing that Scott was now making less noise as the pain slowly wore off, but still putting on quite a good show. “You’re not as strong as a horse!” Shirley and Penny came splashing up, having seen, or probably heard more than anything else, what was going on. They looked most concerned as they saw Scott lying on the ground in pain, and Shelley gave them an account of what had happened, complete with anatomical description. “Andrea should do that to Harold,” declared Penny, who obviously didn’t like him. Scott at last stopped his howling and began groaning instead, which I took as a sign he was recovering slowly. I noticed his eyes were open and fancied he was recovering more quickly than he pretended. From his place lying on his back, he would have an excellent view of Charlotte, Shirley and Penny crouching around him, and I strongly suspect he was feasting his eyes on certain areas of their anatomy less than a metre away from his greedy little blue eyes. Finally he half-sat up, wiping his wet face. As he removed his hands from his testicles, three fascinated girls leaned over to stare at them. “There, you see, it’s in that loose little bag there,” Shelley explained. She had seen it all before, so she was not among those in the ringside seats. “It looks quite red,” commented Penny. “Scott, is your wee still sore?” “It’s not my wee - Willy’s all right,” sniffed Scott, recovering quickly now. He reached down to rub his testicles again. “It’s my balls. They hurt when they get hit.” He held them gently between his fingers as he explained. “They’re still sore. Roy, I don’t want to swim any more now.” “Do you want to go back to our place by the dunes?” I asked, and he nodded. So I picked him up and carried him gently back up the beach, with the girls all following. Andrea and Harold were lying side by side, so engrossed with each other they didn’t seem to notice us. Harold’s penis was trailing on the sand like a dead snake, so probably they were not too sexually involved at that moment. His big wrinkled scrotum hung mournfully down towards the sand as well. Andrea had her top leg straight and lower leg bent at the knee, giving a clear view of the bottom of her vagina and the light brown fuzz covering the top. I wonder why so many teenage girls are so red between their legs. Her younger sisters were both a light pink fleshy colour there, which is much prettier to my eyes. There was more space now to one side, so I laid Scott down on the sand a good few metres away from them. He lay on his back, rubbing his testicles gently, wobbling his penis up and down as he did so, and I think he was now just showing off a bit. “It looks very pink,” said Shirley, sounding genuinely worried. That was probably only because Scott had been rubbing his scrotum so much, though. “I’m so sorry, Scott,” apologised Charlotte again. “Are you better yet?” “Kiss him better, Charlotte,” encouraged Penny with a giggle. To all our surprise, Charlotte bent down and gave Scott a kiss on his cheek. Scott’s mouth fell open, his face went red and then he broke into a big grin. “That’s better now!” he exclaimed. “Nearly better.” Then he added stupidly, “Kiss my balls as well.” This spoilt it. Charlotte looked rather shocked, so I chipped in and said, “Scott, that’s just silly. You’re all right.” Penny knelt down to check my statement. “They still look very red,” she said. “That’s because Scott’s been holding them for the last two hours,” I said, sure he was better now. “My piss is all right, though,” Scott informed us, holding it between thumb and fingers. “You can feel it if you want.” Charlotte looked shocked again and drew back slightly. This time Scott knew he had made a mistake. Penny put out her hand, though, and said with a giggle, “I will.” “That’s the sort of thing for Andrea and Harold to do, isn’t it?” I put in, trying to sound contemptuous. Penny looked a little embarrassed and pulled back her hand. “I was only teasing, Charlotte,” Scott tried to explain, not very truthfully. He patted the sand next to him. “I’m all right now but I don’t want to move yet. Sit down and talk to me.” The girls sat around him, and they began to talk of other things. I heard a little squeal behind us, and looked around. Harold had his hand on Andrea’s vagina and seemed to be tickling gently. Andrea giggled and squealed again and tried to move away. Harold’s hand followed her, so she giggled again and seized hold of his penis, running it through her fingers. “Either of you two have the time?” I enquired loudly, in a bored tone of voice. They broke off guiltily and stared at me. I stared back, very pointedly. Then Harold mumbled, “No,” and they lay back together again, hands under better control now, though Harold’s penis now looked merely bent rather than limp. I looked at the others. Scott was talking animatedly in his usual style, and the girls were listening mostly while he showed off. If they had noticed the sideshow they had not paid any attention to it. After a minute or so I heard a noise of movement behind me. Andrea and Harold were picking up their belongings and shipping out, obviously going to find a place where they could continue their dubious activities in private. They walked past us without a word. “Andrea’s going to get pregnant one day,” said Penny, with an air of self-importance. The rest of that afternoon at the beach is largely a blur of sheer pleasure. Charlotte, in the presence of other naturists, blossomed in confidence and looked as though she had never been shy. I can visualise her vividly again now, as we came out of the sea later on, standing there naked in the sunshine, arms back over her head to shake the water out of her wet honey-coloured hair, eyes closed and facing the sun, beautiful smile on her face, and her smooth little body in the shape of a crescent, tummy out, smooth and soft right down to that lovely little slit between her legs. I could also see Scott staring at her in awe, his mouth round, his whole expression saying “Wow!” as he gazed at the beauty of her bare body. She now seemed completely careless of who saw what as she enjoyed the freedom of nakedness in the sun. Finally the time came to return home. We said goodbye to Shirley and Penny, sorry that we would not be seeing them again until next term as this was their last day there. Then we began the walk back, carrying our clothes with us. “Let’s come again tomorrow! Please!” begged Charlotte, looking up at me with her pleading blue eyes. “I think we’d better be careful,” I said. “If we come to the same place every day, Marina and Scott’s parents will wonder why, and we don’t want any trouble. We don’t want to tell them any lies, either. Besides, Marina doesn’t want to come, and it wouldn’t be fair to leave her alone two days in a row.” “Is there another naturist place around here?” demanded Scott. “Not that I know about,” I said. “You know what I’d really like to do,” grinned Scott. “I wish we could hire a boat or something. Then we can sail out into the sea and have a naturist boat! And we can come here as well. We can park our boat in the harbour and spend the day here so we won’t need to go by bus.” “We can borrow my daddy’s boat!” Charlotte exclaimed excitedly, eyes sparkling. “Roy, you can drive it and we can do that! Let’s do it tomorrow!” “I don’t think your dad would want me sailing in your boat,” I smiled at her. “He won’t mind!” Charlotte assured me, clutching my arm. “It’s a motor boat and it’s very easy to drive. He can teach you. You have to be sixteen to be allowed to drive it, and you’re sixteen!” “Well, see what he says,” I replied, liking the idea but feeling that Charlotte’s father would hardly be likely to approve. “Hey, Charlotte, there are your friends again,” grinned Scott, pointing in front. Sure enough, only about twenty metres away were Greg and Rodney, building a huge sandcastle. They had not seen Charlotte yet, through the dense crowd. Charlotte gave a gasp and darted behind me. She was obviously not yet confident enough to be seen by her schoolmates, but at least this was an improvement on her behaviour on the outward journey. “Quick, my clothes,” she squealed, dropping her bag on the ground and rummaging through it. “Aren’t you going to say hello to them and frighten them?” grinned Scott. “I can’t find my panties!” exclaimed Charlotte, rummaging in the bag. She pulled out her shorts and began to drag them on without any panties underneath. “They must have fallen out somewhere. We’ll have to go back and look for them where we were sitting.” “Try using these instead,” grinned Scott, holding out a small white bundle he had been hiding in his hands. Charlotte looked, and squealed crossly. “Those are mine,” she said, snatching them and putting them into her bag without putting them on. “Where did you get them?” “You dropped them back at the picnic place,” Scott grinned again, but it was clear Charlotte was not amused by it. He had obviously been carrying them along with him all the time instead of giving them back to her. “Now you can go and say hello to Rodney.” I glanced over to the boys. Greg had his back to us, bending right over and brushing away sand from a moat back between his legs. It was not the most beautiful sight. His backside was spread open, the wrinkled pink scrotum was hanging down with his testicles like a couple of inverted hot-air balloons joined together, and on the far side his large penis hung well down, wagging about from side to side as he brushed. I resisted the temptation to walk up behind it and give it a tug, like a bell pull, and hoped Scott would also desist. Rodney was standing on the far side, almost facing us but intent on building turrets. He also had his legs apart, with his penis hanging down, rather smaller than Greg’s, but bent in the middle. It was still quite a bit larger than Scott’s. I looked at Scott, still grinning naughtily and holding his little pinkish white penis idly in one hand as he often did when he was naked. “Better let sleeping dogs lie,” I suggested to Charlotte. Charlotte did not listen to me, though. She had that mischievous gleam back in her eye and a wicked smile on her face. Suddenly she seemed transformed and no longer wanting to avoid them. She marched towards them, while the rest of us followed, with myself urging her to hang on a moment. Trouble was always possible. Charlotte, safely clothed in her shorts, stalked up between the boys and announced loudly, “Hi, guys! I like your castle!” They stopped and gaped at her, then after a moment Rodney’s hand shot down to cover his penis. Greg seemed less inhibited, but he was speechless for a moment or two. Having announced herself, Charlotte threw them a smile, then turned and joined the rest of us. “Be seeing you at school,” she said lightly, waving to them. “I’ll tell my friends I met you on the beach.” “Hey, Charlotte, come and join us,” Greg called after her. “Stay a minute!” “And take your shorts off,” demanded Rodney, who had decided to follow Greg’s example and uncovered his penis. “Not now,” Charlotte called back cheerily over her shoulder. “See you!” “You can have a look at our knobs, too!” Greg shouted after her, perhaps thinking this the highest form of incentive. “Been there, done that,” Charlotte called back gaily without turning her head, but fortunately I’m sure they didn’t hear her. We continued along the beach, and I was relieved that no real trouble had developed. There were a couple more shouts from the boys, but that was all, although they might have caused a bit more trouble had I not been there. Shelley I noticed had been wise enough to keep out of the boys’ view, in case they recognised her and suspected they had been the victims of a plot earlier in the day. Still, I did not think Charlotte had been very sensible, and told her so. After a minute or two, Charlotte suddenly looked rather worried, as she had thought of something. “Roy, I hope those boys won’t tell my daddy they saw me here,” she said with a touch of alarm. “You should have thought of that before,” I reminded her. “But they probably won’t. They probably wouldn’t want your dad to know they were here, and they’ll probably think your dad knew you were here anyway.” “If they do, you can always tell the class you saw their ding-dongs,” put in Scott brightly. “You should have taken a photo.” He giggled. “You could have put it on the school notice board!” “That’s enough, Scott,” I silenced him. “We naturists don’t take photos of people like that, not without their permission. Would you want people to take photos of you?” Scott looked down at his smooth little hairless three-and-a-half-centimetre penis, decided it did not pass the test, and shook his head. Then he looked at Charlotte, and it was obvious what thoughts were going through his mind. I decided it would be better to keep an eye open in case Master Scott brought a camera with him on future expeditions. Being a lifelong naturist, I don’t mind nude photos of myself, and there are quite a lot in existence, and the same with Shelley. Others like Scott and Charlotte may come to enjoy nudity, but they don’t generally like to be photographed, and I always respect that. At the end of the beach we sat down to put on our clothes. I noticed as Charlotte sat with her knees up and apart to put on her shoes and socks, I could just see up her shorts as far as a soft little vagina. Scott, sitting next to me putting his Superman underpants on, was staring again, but she didn’t notice. His face went slightly red, and Willy began to wake up, sitting up and growing a bit longer and harder. Hurriedly Scott pulled up his underpants up to hide his excitement, but the bulge would have given the game away to anybody who was interested. When we were dressed again, we walked back to the bus stop. Charlotte took us briefly to look at the little harbour nearby, so that we could come here in her father’s motor boat - if he approved of our borrowing it, which I thought most unlikely. We had been on the bus, having bagged the big back seat again, for about two minutes when Charlotte suddenly began to look worried once more. “Roy,” she whispered to me. “I forgot to put my panties back on. My mummy may find them in my bag and ask me why I’m not wearing them.” “Well, put them on now, then,” I suggested. “We’re in the back seat, so nobody will see you.” “Somebody might - turn round,” she replied uncomfortably. I could tell Scott was following this conversation with keen interest, although he had the sense to keep quiet this time. “Well, just do it under my towel, then,” I suggested, taking it out of my bag and handing it to her. It was really only a hand towel, just long enough to cover from her waist down to her knees. Blushing a little, she spread it on her lap and then began to pull down her shorts. As the towel started to move down with her shorts, I held it in place with my hand. She pulled her shorts off, then took her panties and bent down to place them over her feet, then pulled them up and over her knees. In a final rush she pulled them right up, lifting her bottom and pulling the towel from my hand. There was a final flash of her little smooth vagina and then her panties were in place. She decided she had no more need of a towel as she put her shorts on over the top. I could feel rather than see Scott’s greedy little eyes taking everything in over my shoulder all the time. Once his hands went secretly inside his shorts for a moment, probably to secure some much needed extra space for an unruly member. Perhaps one day his curiosity will be satisfied. Or perhaps it is just because this is Charlotte, whom he had now claimed as his girlfriend, because he never seems to show any interest in seeing Marina naked. Marina seemed quite a bit happier when we arrived home. She had had quite an enjoyable day on the sea with her parents, and had managed to sort out one matter quite satisfactorily. It seemed that they had passed by our beach, and her father had said to her with some amusement, “That’s actually a naturist beach there. It looks well populated today.” Marina had then asked her father curiously, “Dad, what do you think about naturists and naturist beaches? Are they wrong?” And her dad had replied, “Oh, I don’t think they’re wrong - just a bit crazy perhaps, to strip off in public.” He added jokingly, “Would you like to go to one?” Marina, laughing as if she was continuing the joke, answered, “Yes, Dad, let’s try it.” A little later, when they were well out to sea, Marina’s dad stopped the engine and they enjoyed sunbathing in the peace of the open sea. Marina was amazed when her parents stripped down to their underwear. She did the same and then dared to ask, using her delightful little-girl charm and mischief no doubt, if she could pretend she was a naturist and go for a swim in the sea naked. Her parents laughed and agreed, so she did that for a while, and then sunbathed with them on board, still naked. There were no adverse comments from her parents, and she was now happy in her own mind that they would not be very angry if they found out she went to a naturist beach. “Maybe we can get them to come with us!” exclaimed Scott. “Best leave it to them to suggest that,” I replied. Nudity in a public place would probably be different, but it sounded as if Marina’s parents were not too strongly against it. But I prefer to be independent and in charge of the group myself, with the extra freedom I have. “So do you think you can come with us next time, then, Marina?” I asked her. “Yes, I think so,” she smiled, with her head charmingly on one side. Charlotte quickly told her of her hopes that we might be able to borrow her parents’ motor boat - none of us thought for a moment that Marina’s father would lend out his new boat - and Marina looked eager to come if that unlikely event took place. Charlotte’s parents came to collect her soon after we arrived home. Charlotte ran out and threw herself into her father’s arms, crying, “Daddy, Daddy, please can we use the boat to go out tomorrow. Roy can drive it for us!” Her father was rather surprised by the request, but of course he was not too keen on the idea of lending out his personal boat to a 16-year-old boy he hardly knew. But I suppose having a good reputation is a great help, as Marina’s parents had been speaking very highly of me to him, and Charlotte did get him to say he would think about it. Anyway, he suggested that we all went out in his boat the next morning, and give me a chance to sail it if I wanted. Well, I was to pass the test, but it was only to lead us into another dangerous adventure, out on the Mediterranean Sea this time - with a bunch of lovely girls! I couldn’t have arranged it better if I had tried. This story will be continued in “Sailing Adventure”. ___________________________________________________________ BT Yahoo! 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