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”.



	
	
		
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