SAILING ADVENTURE (CHAPTER 6) Bit by bit, they told me their story, Sarah doing most of the talking. Basically, they were here on holiday from North Carolina in the United States with their father. Their parents were divorced and their mother, with whom they lived, was back home while they travelled with their father. They had only been here three days and had assumed the weather was always perfect in this part of the Mediterranean at this time of year – which isn’t quite true. So they had gone out the previous day with their dad in a hired motorboat without checking the weather forecast, and as a result had been caught in the terrific storm. It had been a terrifying experience, obviously, and they had got completely lost, with their father trying to steer the boat into the storm so as to avoid being hurled on to the shore of the mainland. Instead their boat had been flung on to the rocks of this island, just on the other side, the girls told us. Although badly damaged, it had stuck on the rocks and, wearing lifejackets, they had survived safely until the storm blew over. The boat was still there, but the bottom had been knocked out and the flares lost. They had had to spend a very uncomfortable night on the island. In the morning their father, unwisely I thought, decided that rather than wait for a search party he would put on a lifejacket and swim for the shore – we could just see the low hills from where we were – leaving the girls to wait for him. The shore was probably even further away than it looked. As I was listening, Lana came and sat down to one side of us, very reluctantly as if she didn’t want to be seen. She had one arm protectively over her chest, and she sat with her knees tucked tightly up against her body. Maggie tried to tell us something about her, but Lana shut her up very firmly. “He’s a very good swimmer,” Maggie assured us about her father, nodding her head seriously. She didn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation with her father, but the two older girls were clearly very worried and upset. “He hasn’t come back yet,” Sarah said in a trembling voice. “We’re so worried about him. We told him to wait, but he just went.” I tried to play it down as much as I could. “I’m sure he’ll be all right,” I assured them. “When he didn’t come back, somebody will have alerted the authorities and they will probably have found him already.” “Nobody would know,” pointed out Sarah. “We’re by ourselves and he didn’t tell anybody we were just going for one day.” I tried another tack. “Look how peaceful the sea is now, and he’s wearing a lifejacket,” I said. “The only problem is it will take a very long time for him to get to the shore, unless he gets picked up by a boat. He may not be able to get back today, but I’m sure he’ll be all right.” I felt I was speaking truthfully, but unless he managed to attract the attention of a boat this far out from the main coast, I was afraid he might be in the water for two or three days, and in hot weather with nothing to drink, that would be very serious, although probably not fatal for two days or so. “We have flares, so if we fire them off, we should get rescued today,” Shelley told them brightly. “And they can look for your dad as well if he hasn’t got back yet.” “So you’ve just been here by yourselves since this morning,” I asked them gently, seeing they were looking a bit more cheerful. “Sure,” Maggie answered brightly. “Dad told Lana to look after us but she’s . . .” “Shut up, Maggie,” Lana said firmly, almost desperately. I looked at Lana more carefully. She was the fairest of the three girls, and looked just a year or so younger than I, with golden hair down to her shoulders at the back, big blue eyes and a clear open face. Her clothing did nothing to aid her beauty, though, as she was just wearing the scruffy sort of clothes that most American girls seem to wear for leisure. She had a dull brown top that left her midriff showing, but I could see little of it as she still had a hand pressed protectively against her chest and her knees tightly up against her body. I wondered whether she was very shy or whether there was another reason. She was also wearing the same sort of ugly cut-off jeans that Sarah was wearing. “Come and see our boat,” said Sarah, standing up and beckoning us to follow her to the right. Maggie bounced up as well, so Shelley and I stood, but Lana remained on the ground, curled almost into a ball. I was about to ask if the others on the boat should join us when Maggie pulled Lana’s arm and said, “Come, Lana.” “No, I’ll stay,” insisted Lana firmly. Maggie giggled. “Lana doesn’t want to get up because she tore her top yesterday and you can see her bra,” she announced. Lana exclaimed loudly to try to stop her, but Maggie prattled on, “Then she went to the bathroom and the zip on her jeans got stuck, so she doesn’t want anyone to see.” “Maggie!” Lana shouted at her, angry and seemingly about to burst into tears. “What about you? You had diarrhoea this morning in your underpants!” “Hey, that’s enough,” I broke in. “Look, Lana, Maggie, that sort of thing doesn’t matter at all to us. If you feel bad . . .” I didn’t have chance to finish, as Lana had had more than she could take. She gave a sort of sob, rolled over, stood up with her back to us and walked off quickly into the trees, head down and back heaving. Left in charge in quite a frightening situation, and with what was for her the great embarrassment of being inadequately clothed, she couldn’t handle it any longer. Sarah started after her, looking worried, but I said gently, “Sarah, I think Lana just wants to be on her own for a while – best leave her. Shall I tell the others to come on shore?” Sarah and Maggie looked thoughtfully over to the boat where the other six were still watching us carefully. Then Sarah decided they should be safe, nodded and said, “Yes.” “Marina, any sign of the yobs again?” I called out. She replied in the negative, so I called them to join us. “Shall we bring our clothes?” called out Danielle. “Maybe best to leave them to dry, or they’ll get even more soaked in the sea,” I suggested, which caused Sarah to stare at me in horror, mouth open. The two American girls watched in amazement and some shock as those on the boat began to pull off their clothes. Kimberley was first to leave the boat, pulling off her dress and leaping in ungainly fashion into the water, naked, bringing a gasp from Sarah. “She’s naked!” Sarah said, turning accusingly to me. “I don’t believe it matters, as long as they’re not rude about it,” I said easily. “Shelley will tell you.” Shelley had enough sense not to lay it on too thick too soon. “We know each other and we trust each other,” she smiled. “We wouldn’t usually do it if it bothers you, but all our clothes are a bit wet, and we don’t want to get them any wetter.” “It’s just different cultures, different ways of living,” I continued. “You must have seen on your holiday by now that people over here aren’t as scared of being naked as Americans are.” All the same, I was a little relieved to see that most of the others kept their panties on as they left the boat, still a little reluctant to be naked in front of strangers, even girls. “Americans aren’t scared,” Sarah replied, a little offended. “We’re just not rude.” “Neither are we,” I smiled. “There’s a big difference between being rude and being natural. We like being natural, but never rude.” I hoped Kimberley would not let me down on that one, but I was ready to give her a mouthful if necessary. Marina, Danielle and Galina all swam and splashed to the beach in their panties, although when wet Galina’s panties tended to slip down a little over her bottom. Last out were Scott and Charlotte. Since Scott had been wearing only his underpants, which he removed, I presume he was waiting for her to join him. She too was naked now. As they splashed ashore together, Maggie stared at Scott, mouth open in amazement. Possibly she had never seen a boy naked before. Scott stared at her and looked pleased. She did have similar coloured eyes to Charlotte. “You’re a boy!” Maggie challenged him. Scott paused for thought, and then came out rather cheekily with, “How do you know?” Maggie pointed dumbly at his tiny penis, proudly shown off by its owner, and then said, “You’re naked!” “I don’t mind if you see my piss. It’s good fun being a naturist,” smiled Scott encouragingly. “Isn’t it, Charlotte?” “Yes, it’s fun,” agreed Charlotte, sounding a little shy, which was unlike her and probably only because she still wasn’t used to nudity. Maggie was quite at a loss for words. I told the others all about the shipwreck of the American family, and Marina in particular looked most concerned, which is always like her. She began to talk to Sarah, but I think Sarah was a little put off at first talking to a stranger wearing only her panties. As they were talking, Shelley took her panties off too, but I thought I had better keep my shorts on for the present, seeing the reaction of the Americans. “Come and be naked with us,” beamed Kimberley encouragingly at Sarah and Maggie. They both looked shocked, so I broke in quickly. “Kimberley, I think you’ll find that most Americans are very shy of being naked, so don’t press them about it,” I told her. “If they don’t want to join us, we understand.” “Well, I want to go for a swim,” declared Kimberley, splashing into the shallows. “Who’s coming?” “And we’re not shy,” insisted Sarah sulkily. “You coming, Maggie?” Charlotte encouraged her. Maggie looked uncertain. “I’ve no swimsuit,” she whispered, looking longingly at Kimberley splashing around. Nearby, Galina was slipping her panties down and going in to join her. Scott and Charlotte, holding hands, ran into the sparkling water. They seemed to have forgotten our difficult situation already. “We can’t go in naked, Maggie,” Sarah warned her, looking rather alarmed, as if her entire moral value system was about to collapse. “Sarah, we aren’t being rude,” I assured her. “But we understand other people who are afraid of it, so please – you do it your way if you want, and we’ll do it our way.” “Okay,” muttered Sarah, but gave Maggie a sharp look. “May we swim in our underwear?” Maggie asked me. “It’s not a very good thing really because it makes them wet, and it’s not good to have wet clothes, especially in salt water, between your legs,” I explained. “But if you’re too shy to be naked, that’s okay. But you will need to take them off afterwards, because if you leave them on when they’re wet it’s bad for your skin, and you may get a rash or something.” Sarah pulled a face, as if hearing very bad news. I thought things might go better if I was out of the way, so I said to them all, “I’ll go and check Lana’s all right now.” “She won’t want you to see her because her clothes are torn,” Maggie reminded me helpfully. “She’s shy if people see her bra.” “Maggie, you know Lana doesn’t like you talking like that,” I said gently, crouching down to put my face level with hers. “Now we must respect people who are shy about their bodies and things like that. So you must be kind, and you must not talk about Lana like that again. And I would never let anybody say things that you don’t like either. We could tease you three girls about being scared of being naked, but we won’t do it. So you mustn’t talk like that either. Okay?” Maggie nodded her head vigorously. “Sure,” she agreed, looking at me with her big round eyes. Before I went for Lana, I thought of something. I removed my shorts and swam out to the boat, conscious of the scandalised gaze of Sarah in particular, although she said nothing. I fetched my shirt, which was really little more than a vest, holding it above my head as I waded through the deeper water, and put on my dry shorts when I reached the beach. Shirt in hand, I then went into the woods in search of Lana, wondering if my subtle psychology with the American girls would work. I had noticed the direction she had taken, but the island was hardly big enough to lose anybody very easily. Still, the trees and bushes were quite thick in the middle, so it might have taken a while to find her had she chosen to hide out in a thicket. When I reached the other side of the island, less than a hundred metres away, I saw her straight away, sitting on a rock about thirty metres to my right and staring out to sea. Her eyes were red and her face looked desperately miserable, but she now looked composed enough, I thought, for me to be able to approach her. I walked round the beach towards her, making sure she saw me coming so I didn’t take her by surprise. She looked around and then turned away quickly, but at least she didn’t try to run away from me. She did make sure that her bra and crotch would not be visible to me, though. Slowly I approached her, but she didn’t look again. I walked over to a smaller rock about three metres away from her and sat down, but she ignored me. “Lana, you’ve had a terrible time, I know,” I said gently. “You had a terrible time in the storm yesterday and had to spend the night here. Then your dad left you in charge, and you’re worried about him, and you don’t know what to do, because there’s nothing you can do, yet you think you ought to. Then maybe you thought we had come to rescue you, and then you found out we couldn’t. Isn’t that right?” I could only see the back of her golden head, but she nodded it vigorously, without turning it at all. “Mmm,” she agreed, with a big tremble in the middle of even that remark. “And I can understand how you feel, on top of all that, when you tear your clothes as well,” I went on. “I know people in America are very fussy about that, but I can tell you we’re much easier in this country. But I can help you, if you’ll let me. Will you wear my shirt, to cover yourself up better?” I thought this would get a response. She turned her head round, and I could see her lovely fair hair sprawling over her swollen red face, and her running nose, as she obviously had nothing to wipe it with. She looked at the shirt I held out to her and reached out her hand for it. “Thank you,” she said in a broken voice. She turned her head away again, ashamed of her tear-stained face, and slipped my shirt on over her head. I could see it would come down far enough to cover her broken jeans zip as well. I was unable to see any of the damage for myself, she had made sure of that, but I thought that was a temporary sacrifice I would have to make in order to win her trust! But honestly, my heart went out to her and my main longing at that moment was to give her the help and comfort she needed. “May I lend you a handkerchief as well?” I asked her gently. “You’ve had so much bad happen to you that you just needed to have a good cry for a few minutes, I know. But that’s all right. That’s why I left you till I thought I might be able to help you. You’ve done a great job looking after your sisters, but it’s been an awful strain for you.” “Thank you,” she sniffed, turning round and taking the handkerchief. She looked me in the eye for the first time, the quickest of timid glances, as I smiled tenderly at her. Then she turned her head away again and blew her nose several times, then wiped her eyes and face. “Just put it in the top pocket of the shirt when you’ve finished with it,” I told her, and she did. She still sat with her head turned away from me, though, still too ashamed or shy – or probably both. My loose sleeveless shirt hung low under her shoulders, and she clearly never imagined that I could see inside most of what she had been trying so hard to cover up. Her brown top was torn almost all the way down the middle, hanging down now that she was no longer holding it, to reveal a large expanse of her white bra underneath it. Her breasts looked quite well grown, and remembering Sarah’s development I wondered if the American diet enabled them to reach puberty earlier than local girls did. I personally prefer to see girls taking their time to develop and bud slowly and naturally. I still cannot imagine Marina or Shelley with big bulging breasts; I find cute little ones so much more attractive. Perhaps I have a soft spot for Scott’s penis for the same reason. I thought I needed to get our relationship developing slowly. “You have such beautiful hair,” I told Lana. “What do you do to get it looking so good?” “Oh, it’s not so good now because it’s all straggly and it’s been in the sea,” she said, suddenly interested. I had correctly guessed the best point of contact. She began telling me, with a bit of hesitation, about how she looked after it and how she liked it cut and washed, and before she had finished she was turning round almost to face me, still with a blotchy red face, and talking in quite a lively way all about it. I then went on to ask her questions about her home and her school, and she was very quick to tell me all about these things, even beginning to smile once or twice. She also earned money part-time modelling. I asked her what she modelled, and she told me all about the fashions and her favourite clothes. “You know,” I smiled at her, shaking my head in puzzlement. “Americans are such strange people.” I was teasing her gently. “So many Americans have such beautiful bodies, but they’re scared to go naked, and girls like you, I’m sure, look so beautiful in your best dresses, but your casual clothes look so ugly.” “That’s not so,” she argued, but she was also half-smiling. “Well, only sometimes. About our clothes, I mean. We dress up swell to go out on a date, you know, or things like that.” “Our girls dress beautifully all the time!” I claimed, still teasing her, and she knew it was all in fun. “You wait till our girls get dressed, and you’ll see how pretty they look even on holiday like this.” “But – they’re *naked* now,” Lana replied, looking very confused as it seemed her entire value system was being destroyed. “That’s . . .” She stopped, not wanting to cause offence. “Isn’t that rude?” I repeated what I had said to Sarah about the difference between being rude and being natural. “I think there’s a bit of a mix-up about that in America,” I told her. “People are so shy about being naked, and there’s so little of it. But don’t you have a lot of dirty magazines for men with photos of naked women and all that sort of thing? And lots of dirty films as well?” “Oh, yes,” she replied, pulling a face. “They’re awful.” She named a few. “Do you know why they’re so popular?” I asked her. She shook her head. “I think when they’re young, American boys and girls aren’t able, or aren’t allowed, to see each other naked much at all. So they’re curious, and of course they get attracted by anything that’s forbidden. In this country, it isn’t such a problem, because people don’t worry about that. And for people like us who are naturists, we don’t worry at all. We think people are most free and most beautiful when they’re naked and natural, and we just don’t have any hang-ups about it. But we respect people like you, and we certainly won’t try to force people like you to be naked when you’re scared of that sort of thing.” “Oh, we’re not scared of it . . .” Lana began, and then stopped, looking away into the trees for a moment. I could tell that she had just remembered her own fear of having us see her torn clothes, and she went a little red. “It’s okay, you’re just not used to it,” I told her, smiling. “Marina, my girl-friend, was a bit like that when I first met her. But she tried it, and once she got used to it she found it was great. She felt so free. And it’s also a way of trusting each other. We feel so much closer to each other by showing trust like we do when we’re naked together. But don’t worry – you’ll never have to try it and you can just stay the way you like to be.” I suppose that’s what you call reverse psychology! I found it usually works in the end! “My dad says . . .” Lana began, and then suddenly stopped. She had suddenly thought of her father again and all her fears flooded back to the surface. “My dad . . .” she choked, her eyes filling with tears. She bowed her head, put a hand to her face and began to sob helplessly. I came closer, but didn’t touch her yet. “I’m sorry,” I whispered into her ear. She didn’t respond but kept sobbing with a choking sound. I put my hand gently on her far shoulder. “May I do this?” I asked. She still didn’t respond, but she didn’t try to turn away at all, so I took that as a positive sign. Gently I put my other arm round her and drew her towards me. She almost threw herself into my arms, burying her face in my shoulder and sobbing deeply, her back heaving with the effort. Then she let out a thin wail of despair and cried heartbreakingly into my shoulder. I held her tightly but tenderly, stroking the back of her neck under her golden hair and placing her forehead, hot and sticky as it felt, against my cheek. Soon she was quieter, panting for breath, but she kept her face buried in my shoulder. “Lana,” I breathed lovingly into her ear. “It’s so hard for you. I love you. Let me look after you now. You’re so special.” After a minute or so she came up for air. She looked at me with her tear-filled blue eyes and then pressed her hot wet cheek against mine. “Thank you,” she whispered. “But I’m so . . . I’m so scared for my dad. He may have drowned.” Her voice broke again. “I’m sure he won’t,” I replied, and I meant it. “He’s a strong swimmer, the water is calm and there are lots of boats around. It may take a day or two, but he’ll be back.” “You think so?” she answered doubtfully, lifting her head and looking deeply into my eyes. “I do,” I smiled at her confidently. “In the meantime, you don’t worry about a thing. You know something? I’m so glad we got landed on this island, because if we hadn’t I’d never have met you. So don’t worry, because I’ll look after you all.” “You’re wonderful,” she smiled at me, smiling through her tears and placing her head lovingly against my bare chest. Then she lifted her head, looked at me and said with some hesitation and embarrassment, “What’s your name?” She hadn’t even known! We talked for a few more minutes, sitting together on the rock with my arm round her, pressing her gently against me. Every so often the tears came for a moment, but she smiled beautifully through them. Then she said, “Won’t your girlfriend – Marina – be jealous?” “Not at all,” I smiled. “Marina’s special to me, and she knows I can love other girls too in a different way. Shelley is my cousin – that’s the girl I first came ashore with. Let me think of you as my lovely sister.” She laughed through some more tears. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have a big brother,” she said, smiling up at me. “Now you know,” I grinned back. Very tenderly I kissed her in the middle of her forehead. She gasped, looked startled for a moment, and then smiled. “Thank you,” she whispered, and gave me a light kiss on the cheek. We sat in silence for a minute or two, both enjoying the love of each other. Then Lana breathed deeply and sat up straight, looking at me with smiling eyes. “I feel better now,” she said. I squeezed her hand. “You make me feel so happy,” I told her. Then she said, “I feel so hot wearing your shirt on top. I guess that’s silly of me. It doesn’t matter with you. May I take it off for a while, until we go back to the others?” She looked at me nervously, nervous I’m sure of what she was about to do rather than of anything I might say. “That’s fine,” I smiled, and she slipped it off over her head, handing it back to me. From the corner of my eye I could see an expanse of white in her chest area but I deliberately kept my eyes from it so as to gain her confidence. There would be time enough for that later. Girls doing this sort of thing for the first time often talk to cover their embarrassment, and this was what Lana did. “There was a big nail sticking out of the boat,” she told me, slightly flustered and red in the cheeks. “We had to get out quickly and I didn’t see it. I caught my top on it and it ripped before I knew it. It scratched me, too.” And she pointed to her chest and looked down, an obvious invitation for me to see, too. She did keep one hand half over the area, though. I looked, first darting a glance at her jeans while her eyes were averted. The broken zip was not gaping wide, but it was enough to reveal a narrow sliver of silky white panties inside. Then I looked to where she was pointing. Her brown top was holding together by only about an inch of material at the bottom. Above it gaped open, revealing a white lacy feminine bra inside, looking quite well filled. Almost down the middle was a red scratch, about eight centimetres long from the top to the point where it disappeared under her bra. Fortunately it was almost in the middle and so had avoided her young breasts. I couldn’t quite visualise how this damage had been done by catching it on a nail, but I didn’t ask. I made a bit more of a fuss than I suppose was necessary about the scratch, expressing my sympathy. As she looked up at me and I immediately had to lift my eyes as well, I said, sounding quite concerned, “That must still be sore. You can’t have been able to put any antiseptic on it.” She shook her head. “I think you should rub some spit into it,” I told her. “That’s the next best thing.” She wiped a finger, delicately put some spittle on it and rubbed it in gently while I watched, enjoying the view, warming my heart and my loins. She didn’t mention her jeans, so I didn’t ask. Then she said in a hurt voice, “And Sarah and Maggie laughed at me when it happened.” “Would you laugh if anything like that had happened to them?” I asked her. “Or to anybody else?” “Oh, no,” she denied it. “What would you do, then?” I asked. “I . . . I . . .” She paused, as if she was remembering something with a twinge of guilt. “Well, I . . . I suppose I might.” “Why might you do that?” I asked, smiling gently into her embarrassed face. “Well, I . . . I wouldn’t know what else to do,” she admitted, slightly red in the face again. “Perhaps don’t be too hard on your sisters,” I said. “Although I’d soon stop them if they laughed at you. But people so often laugh at others because they don’t know what else to do, they feel embarrassed and they’re always afraid something like that might happen to them. Don’t you think so?” “I guess,” she answered, smiling shyly at me. Then she kissed me again on the cheek. “You’re so wise,” she said. We spent a few more minutes talking about this and that. Then Lana stood up. “I’d better go back now,” she said, “and make sure my sisters are all right.” “Don’t you fuss about that – I’m in charge now,” I smiled, but stood up as well. “Let’s do that, then.” She put her arm through mine, and we strolled gently back towards the beach where we had left the others, although we had to unlink arms at times as we pushed our way through the bushes. I was still carrying my shirt, as she had either forgotten about it or decided she no longer needed to cover herself. Then Lana suddenly asked me, “Do I look all right? My eyes, I mean?” I looked at her. Her eyes were still a little red and swollen. “Not so bad,” I said. “The rest of you is beautiful.” She laughed lightly and we walked on, although she did drop my arm as we could see the beach ahead, through the trees, in case the others should see her. (To be continued) SAILING ADVENTURE (CHAPTER 7) Lana and I arrived back at the beach where we had left the others, to find that most of them were still swimming. Marina was sitting in the shade talking to Danielle, both naked, while the others were in the sea. Kimberley was kneeling to dig a hole in the sand, legs splayed wide and bottom up, with her plump vagina easily visible from the back, reaching under her crotch like a zip. “Maggie!” I heard Lana exclaim in shock. Following her horrified gaze, I saw her youngest sister chasing Scott in the shallows as he splashed away from her, laughing, with Charlotte tagging on behind. All three were naked and having a great time. “Lana,” I chipped in quietly, smiling at her gently. “Aren’t they having great fun? Rather than being rude?” “I guess,” she muttered, but was obviously feeling confused at the moment, as she was forced to question the repressive attitude in which she had been brought up. Maggie had seen Lana looking at her in shock, and she fell silent and began splashing reluctantly out of the water towards us. Of course, at her age she was quite flat-chested, and had a lovely curved little vagina, one of those that is slightly larger at the top of the opening and looks as if it has a little buttonhole there. Maggie was prepared to defend herself. “It’s such fun, Lana, and it doesn’t matter,” she began with a touch of defiance. “I love playing with Scott – he’s such fun. And everyone can see your bra.” For a moment Lana’s hand flew up to cover the frilly white of her bra, but then she realised, I think, the silliness of it all. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, and then she suddenly realised that she had said exactly the same as Maggie and laughed suddenly. “Oh, Maggie, you shouldn’t, but – I suppose so. All right.” Maggie looked most surprised at such an easy victory. She stood frozen to the spot for a moment, then suddenly raised her arms in triumph, shouted “Whee!” and turned round to run back into the sea. She had not noticed that Scott had been standing right behind her and cannoned straight into him. They fell over on the sand in a wriggling, laughing heap, Maggie’s bare bottom lying sprawled over Scott’s chest. “Maggie, where’s Sarah?” asked Lana urgently, still taking her responsibility for her sisters very seriously. Still giggling, Maggie rolled over and sat up, knees up and legs open to show completely unselfconsciously all there was to see of that cute little vagina. She pointed to the boat and answered, “She went to look in the boat. Sarah!” she called. A light ginger head with what seemed to me to be a rather sheepish grin appeared above the deck of the boat. “Hi, Lana,” she called. “Just exploring the boat.” I couldn’t see what she was wearing, and my heart began to beat faster as I speculated. Just then I realised, through a tugging on my arm, that Charlotte had all this time been trying to tell me something. Marina was standing next to her to back up her urgency, and I could guess what it was. “Roy, the flares!” Charlotte insisted. “You must send up the flares so that my dad will know where we are and come to rescue us. We forgot them.” I hadn’t actually forgotten them, but I felt there were more immediate things to do first. Now was the time to get on with the urgency of being rescued, although I would have very much liked to stay longer on the island with all these lovely girls, most of whom I had only just begun to know. Like a few weeks longer, for example. “Right, I’ll go out and do that straight away,” I assured them, to their relief. I quickly slipped off my shorts, aware that it was causing Lana some embarrassment, and splashed out towards the boat. I did not want to waste any time, not least for the reason that I would also be able to discover what Sarah was wearing, if anything. I couldn’t imagine her going naked, especially with Scott around, but I needed to satisfy my curiosity desperately. I emptied some excess from my bladder into the sea on my way. There was no sign of Sarah as I drew closer to the boat. I put my hands on the side and heaved myself up and over quickly. There was a squeal and a scramble of arms and legs, and as I swung my legs over I could see Sarah rolling over into the far corner. As I had thought most likely, she was wearing her underwear. She had a little plain white bra on top, not frilly like Lana’s, but she had not struck me as being quite so feminine. She was also wearing a small tight pair of white panties. They were wet from the sea and had become a little transparent. As she moved, I could make out the dark marks of her nipples under the bra, and also a dark line and indentation down under the crotch of her panties for her vagina. “Hello, Sarah,” was all I said, smiling at her, taking everything I could in at the quickest of glances, and then looking away from her towards the little cupboard that held the flares and matches. “I need to send off some flares so we can be rescued.” “Hi,” she mumbled, curled almost into a little ball, trying to hide her underwear from me, like Lana had been earlier on when she had first decided to come out and investigate us. She paused and then added, “I thought it was Lana.” “Why, would you be in trouble?” I smiled, looking around for some way to break into the cupboard. “Yes, and so would you be if she saw you now,” Sarah warned me, obviously thinking her older sister hadn’t seen me yet. As I squatted on the floor beside the cupboard, which was only a metre away from her corner, she knelt next to me and looked to see what I was doing. So often I find that if I ignore underwear or nakedness, girls will immediately lose all shyness and forget they ever worried about me. “Do you think I look so rude?” I asked her, turning my head and laughing into her eyes. She didn’t know what to say for a moment, then she said, “I guess we’re just not used to seeing boys . . .” She didn’t finish the sentence. “Haven’t you ever seen a boy naked before?” I smiled at her. “Just little ones, babies,” she answered. “Until you and Scott today.” She snatched a quick, embarrassed glance at my penis. “Apart from the boy next door.” She spoke with a note of disgust but didn’t elaborate on that one. “It’s all right, I don’t mind you seeing it,” I reassured her. “I know it’s not easy for you when you’ve been brought up to be shy.” “Yours is the first proper – er - big one I’ve ever seen,” Sarah continued, sounding clearly embarrassed but unable to stop talking with it. “I didn’t know boys got hairy too.” Obviously she was referring to my pubic hair. “Scott still has a baby one.” “Both boys and girls get pubic hair when they reach puberty,” I told her, wondering if she knew what that meant. “When you get older, you’ll find you start growing hair in that place as well.” I strongly suspected, from the way she spoke and her rather impressive breasts for her age, that she already had some. “I’ve got some now,” she answered indignantly. Then she realised what she had said, and giggled with embarrassment. “But you’re not going to see it,” she added. “No, that’s fine,” I answered, trying in vain to force the door and slopping around in the water that was still in the bottom of the boat. “I know you American girls are shy about that sort of thing, and I’ll respect your privacy.” “We’re not shy!” retorted Sarah crossly. “We just don’t want to be rude.” “And besides, you might get into trouble with Lana,” I grinned sneakily. “But don’t worry – your hair will grow when you’re a bit more mature.” “I do what I like. I don’t have to obey Lana,” insisted Sarah. “And I’ve got hair, whatever you think. And I’ve worn a bra for nearly a year. I suppose you think that’s padded.” I smiled as if I was humouring her, but didn’t answer. I could tell she was annoyed, and in something of a dilemma. She was not about to let me see naked, but she did want me to appreciate her physical maturity. She stood up and moved behind me, obviously forgetting her fears of Lana seeing her if she stood. Then she moved round and stood on my right, leaning her hip against the side of the boat and then edging closer until she was as close as she could reasonably get. I jerked the door hard, allowing my eyes a quick glimpse at Sarah. Somehow the elastic of her panties had sagged lower, and I could see just a tiny fringe of golden-gingery tufts of hair peeping out at the top. My penis lurched convulsively, but I didn’t show I had seen anything. “How are you getting on?” Sarah asked, for something to say. “Not very well,” I answered. “I think I’m going to have to break this open.” I stood up and took a couple of steps back, looking at it and frowning, thinking hard. This gave Sarah the opportunity to stand more in my line of vision. One hand was fingering the elastic of her tight white panties as she too pretended to look at the little door. “I suppose, being a naturist, you’ve seen lots of teenage girls naked and you’re used to it,” she said. I nodded and grunted. “What do you think about them?” she asked rather timidly. “You know, I really think those girls whose bodies are just beginning to develop, who are just becoming real women, are the most beautiful of all,” I told her, smiling warmly at her. “You’ll be like that too, soon, so it’s something to look forward to.” “I’m nearly thirteen,” objected Sarah crossly. “I’ve been growing a long time.” Again I smiled, trying to give the impression that I was humouring her and didn’t really believe her. I could tell what she was thinking. One part of her was longing to prove her physical maturity, but all her upbringing rebelled against her exposing certain parts of her body in public. I could see her fingers trembling. Then suddenly a thumb pushed down on the elastic and I had a quick flash of some strands of pale ginger fuzz down there. My penis jerked again, but I decided to frustrate Sarah a little more. Immediately I turned towards the shore, as if I had seen nothing, and said decisively, “I’ll have to go and get a stone to break it in, I think.” “Do you want to see me naked?” she asked, as a challenge rather than an invitation. “Not when it will make you feel bad,” I answered, after some quick thought but trying to sound completely casual. “People’s bodies are their own business, and I would never do anything to hurt those who feel too afraid, or those who don’t trust me.” She said nothing for a few seconds while I looked towards the beach. Then she said, “I’ll wait here for you.” I quickly leapt overboard, went ashore, found a suitable stone and hurried back to the boat. I couldn’t help wondering if she would be naked when I arrived back, so I was as anxious as possible to be quick about it. Sarah was waiting for me as she had said, sitting inside the boat with her underwear a little more disarranged and her face flushed, obviously rather embarrassed but going ahead slowly anyway. Her panties were a little further down at the front, and quite definitely a few wet strands of golden ginger pubic hair were sticking out over the elastic. Her bra also seemed to be a little looser, giving a view of the side of her little breasts. But I pretended not to notice. “Are you hot in this weather?” she asked me. “Quite hot, but it’s much cooler without clothes,” I grinned, hammering selectively at the little cupboard door and not looking at her. “My clothes keep sticking to me,” she complained. I made no comment, so she went on, “I wish I could take off my bra inside the boat. Where nobody can see me.” “Well, you can if you want,” I said casually, as the wood around the lock began to splinter. “I don’t mind.” She was half behind me and I deliberately did not look at her. There was a moment’s silence, and then there was a bumping and a scraping noise on the side of the boat. Then I heard Scott’s voice. Turning, I saw him face peering over the side of the boat and he scrambled on board. “Have you done it yet?” he asked. He had interrupted me just as Sarah might have been ready to undress further. I was nearly very rude to him. “Don’t come in, I need room to do the job properly,” I growled, quite untruthfully. Scott scrambled on board all the same, crawling on to the bonnet like a dog, on all fours, and looking down on my work from that position, little penis dangling down. In frustration I gave the door a harder bang, the wood splintered and the door flew open. “Got it!” grinned Scott. “Oh, no!” I exclaimed, looking inside. I could see the flares, strapped to a shelf in their packet, good and dry. On the floor the water had flowed in, and it was about two or three centimetres deep. In that water, loose and having fallen off the shelf, were the two boxes of matches! “The matches are soaking wet!” I exclaimed in dismay. “We can’t light flares with wet matches!” The others’ faces fell. “Are we stuck here, then?” asked Sarah, tears in her eyes. “Only for a while,” I said, suddenly thinking that a few more hours with all these girls wasn’t such a bad thing after all. “We’ll have to put these matches in the sun to dry for a while. And just hope they still work then.” Eyes brimming over with tears, Sarah stood up and slipped over the side of the boat. I stood up and watched as she splashed her way over to Lana in her underwear, unafraid of rebuke now and ready to cry over the bad news. Holding the matches and feeling frustrated that Scott had come at such an inconvenient time, I began to slip into the water as well. “Hey, Roy,” grinned Scott, seemingly unbothered by the bad news. “I bet you can’t get Lana and Sarah to go naked!” I glared at him. “Not with you around, I couldn’t,” I snapped at him, then struck out for the beach. I arrived back to find that Sarah had told the news about the matches to the others, who were dismayed. “Look, don’t worry,” I told them. “After an hour or two in the sun, the matches should work just fine. We just need to be patient.” I spread out the matches on a rock in the sun, away from sea, to dry. I wasn’t at all certain of success, as a lot of the phosphorus had washed away. “I’m hungry,” decided Scott. It was by now early afternoon, and seemed much later after all that had happened, but the others had not thought much about food after the frightening experiences we had all had. But I went back to the boat to fetch the lunch, much of which was soggy. I put the wet food in the sun to dry, and we all shared the dry food with the American girls. Not many of us wanted to eat very much, though. The Americans had found some fruit trees and bushes and eaten from those, and their father had shown them how to dig in the sand on the beach for fresh water – not that I thought it tasted at all fresh to me – so they had managed for food and drink. The younger girls especially were looking very tired and became rather weepy. Charlotte was most unhappy, with her father’s boat so badly damaged as well, and I held her closely to comfort her, kissing her gently on the side of her forehead. Maggie looked at me with a mournful face and I smiled at her, but she seemed a bit shy of me and looked away again. After lunch I suggested we all lay in the shade and rested for a while. Not even Scott argued with this, so we found a large shady area of sand under the trees at the rear of the beach and lay down together. I did not want to lie down myself, so I sat up against a tree while the others lay down. Galina was looking very frightened, so I paid special attention to this little girl, who curled up right next to me on one side. On my other side was Marina. Slowly she had been gaining in confidence with regard to nudity, and it was wonderful, in more ways than one, to see her lying on her back quite naked and unselfconscious, her lovely white vagina, with just a few long threads of brown hair growing between her legs, pointing at the sky. Within a few minutes most of the others were asleep. The Americans were dressed, or undressed, as they were. Maggie was curled up naked nearby, her little round white bottom quite beautiful. Sarah had disappeared for a few minutes into the undergrowth to put on her jeans and shirt, and she returned to put her bra and panties on a rock some distance away to dry. Lana was still clothed, or mostly, lying on her back with the gash in her jeans evident and her bra very visible. It didn’t seem to worry her any longer. Not far away, Scott and Charlotte were lying on their sides facing each other and talking, with Scott quite clearly drinking in the beauty of her naked body whenever she wasn’t looking directly at him. Shelley and Danielle were lying side by side, eyes closed. Kimberley was lying in a hollow, lying on her back, knees up and gently masturbating from time to time, stroking and gently pulling her vagina every now and then. After a few minutes Lana stood up and tiptoed over to me. “Will you come with me?” she whispered. “I want to show you round the island.” “Yes, sure,” I agreed. I looked over to Marina, whose eyes were open now. “Marina, Lana wants to show me round the island,” I told her. “You want to come?” She shook her head. “No, I’m so tired,” she smiled. “I’ll stay.” I pulled a face. “You’re not frightened Lana’s going to run off with me?” I asked her. Marina looked smilingly up at me with her big brown eyes. “I should be so lucky,” she teased me mischievously. That is just like Marina – so confident in an unassuming way that she can always trust me, that we’ll always be special to each other. She is always so trusting and lacking in jealousy. But I couldn’t let her comment pass. I knelt down and tickled her, feeling the warm smoothness of her skin and the firmness of her ribs beneath my fingers. She squealed quietly and pushed me away. “Too tired,” she excused herself. “You can leave a bookmark and come back to finish off later.” I stood up to follow Lana. “Roy, please put your shorts on,” she asked me, rather embarrassed. “Aw, shucks,” I grumbled in best American fashion, and looked around for them. Galina, fast asleep, was using my clothes as a pillow. “Sorry,” I shrugged with a smile. “Can you find me some fig leaves instead?” Lana giggled, still embarrassed. “I – I guess I’ll just have to get used to it,” she said, looking to one side, as she often seemed to do when I was naked. Lana led me off our beach to one side, so we would circle the little island in an anti-clockwise direction. At times we had to scramble over rocks or among the trees for part of the journey, but it was not too difficult. As we went, we talked, mainly about the other girls who had come with me, as Lana was interested in knowing all about them. We soon arrived at the place where their boat had landed on the rocks, and could see the remains a few metres out from the shore. Looking at Lana, I saw tears running down her cheeks again as she looked at the boat, and I knew she was thinking about that terrifying experience and was also worrying about her father. “I’m sorry, Lana,” I whispered, putting one arm round her back and my other hand on the back of her head, drawing her gently towards me. She buried her face in my shoulder, flooding it with tears as she sobbed quietly. I held her close, taking care to keep my penis from coming in contact with her and embarrassing her. Eventually she looked up at me, trying to smile through her tears. “It’s all right, I understand,” I whispered to her. “Things are just awful for you at the moment. But don’t you worry, I’m handling everything for you now.” She cried again with the relief of being understood, while I rubbed the back of her neck, under her hair gently. Then she looked up, tried to smile at me again and said, “There is one good thing about it all. I’ve found my big brother.” I smiled lovingly back down at her. “I’m glad of that,” I whispered, ruffling her thick golden hair at the neck gently. I was glad also that she didn’t seem to think of me as a possible boyfriend, as this might have caused me a problem since I already had Marina, but perhaps in her time of need she thought of me as too much older than herself than that – even though she was only a year younger than I. As we continued our walk, we were both feeling the heat, even when we were walking in the shade of the trees. I must confess that, as usual, I was trying to think of ways to encourage Lana to strip off and join me in nudity. I would never abuse her or any other girl, but the intimacy of being naked together with those for whom I feel affection is a very strong desire in me. But I always try to bring the other to the point where she wants that as well. It would only cause hurt, and probably serious trouble as well, if I persuaded a girl to strip off when she doesn’t really want to. As we continued our walk round the island, Lana suddenly said to me, “I have to go to the bathroom?” She made it sound like a question, as I’ve found Americans often do when they are uncertain of themselves. She disengaged herself from my arm, which had been around her still. I was tempted to reply to that stupid American euphemism that she wouldn’t find any baths around there, but it wouldn’t have been helpful. “Okay, I’ll wait for you,” I said. “Please don’t look?” she pleaded, almost looking at me with embarrassment out of the corner of her eye. “I won’t, I promise,” I smiled at her. “I’ll keep looking out to sea until you come back.” She moved off, and I faced the sea. It was very frustrating, but I forced myself to keep my promise - it might have been a test. Everything comes to him who waits, I thought - softly softly catchee monkey. Anything too soon might ruin everything. I walked closer to the sea, my bladder aching with frustration and excitement. I relieved the pressure, and it burst out of me in a stream into the shallows. It took about five frustrating minutes for Lana to return. Then I heard her gentle American accent behind me, again sounding like she was asking a question. “It’s okay, Roy, I’m back?” I turned round with a smile. The smile grew bigger and my heart lurched as I saw her. She had removed her outer clothes, which she was carrying in her hands, and was standing there in her frilly bra and delicate smooth white panties. She was looking at me with a nervous smile, as if uncertain how I would react. “I felt so hot?” she tried to explain. “Is this – all right?” I smiled again tenderly, trying not to show my excitement. “Yes, that’s fine,” I assured her. I gazed deeply into her eyes. “That’s lovely. You know, I feel so happy you can trust me like this. I know how hard it is for you.” She smiled, looking away as she did so. It really had been difficult for her. Then I said, “I was thinking of going for a swim to cool off myself. Can you wait a minute for me?” “Yeah, sure,” she answered. “That looks a good rock for diving from,” I said, pointing to one about twenty metres away that stood high and about ten metres out into the sea. “I’ll try that.” We walked over to it together and I climbed up on to it, then stood at the far side, studying the water carefully to make sure it was deep enough for a dive. I was really hoping that she would say something. She did. “Roy?” she said, hesitatingly. “Would it – be all right for me to swim as well? In my underwear?” “Yes, of course,” I answered. Then I frowned, as if I had thought of something. “The only problem is you’ve only got torn clothes to change into afterwards.” “Well, I – I guess it wouldn’t really matter just for once if I walked around in wet panties for a while?” she said. “Would it?” I couldn’t very well disagree without pushing things too far. So I just said, “Well, I suppose not.” Then I bent down and dived in. I dived in, the depth being about a metre and a half, and swum far. Then I surfaced, looking out to sea, before slowly turning back to see what Lana’s reaction was. I nearly left it too late. I saw her standing for a moment on the edge of the rock, quite naked. Her young breasts swelled out from her body and there was a lovely patch of deep golden hair on her loins. I just thought I had the quickest glimpse of the lips of her vagina down between her legs when she dived in. She came up about two metres from me, laughing and spluttering. The water was just deep enough for her to stand in, which no doubt had helped to persuade her to come in. It covered her whole body from the neck down, and she did not feel as exposed as she would have done had she had to wade in through the shallows. “Hey, that’s great!” I exclaimed in delight. “Hey, I bet you feel better for that now.” “Yes,” she admitted, smiling but still sounding uncertain. “Roy, I – I know I can trust you.” She seemed about to say more, but then put her head down and swam out towards the open sea, overarm crawl. Her slim white bottom splashed through the waves. I splashed around by myself, feeling I should still wait for her to take the initiative in any further contact between us, now that she was naked. Sure enough, she came swimming back in a couple of minutes. “That’s lovely,” she smiled in a rather high-pitched voice as she came to a stop and stood on the seabed just over a metre from me. “I should have done that before?” “Well, it wasn’t easy for you,” I said. “It’s really taken a lot of courage and trust for you to do this. And I love you for it.” Smiling at her, I held out my arm towards her, an invitation, but I was ready to withdraw it if she wasn’t ready for it and didn’t respond quickly. She did respond. Kicking off with her feet, she swam into my arms, reaching up her own arms and wrapping them around my neck. I almost gasped as I could feel her strong firm breasts pressing against my chest. My penis throbbed, and I could feel it push up against her hip, but she didn’t seem to notice. Then my heart lurched, as I could feel her soft public hair tickling the end of my penis. Fortunately the cold of the water prevented it from going properly hard and I managed to keep under control. (To be continued) SAILING ADVENTURE (CHAPTER 8) We stood there a while, the water just shallow enough for me to stand, but Lana had to keep her arms around my neck to stay up comfortably. I had no objection to that at all! We just enjoyed the cool water massaging our bodies, and I enjoyed the feel of her own lovely soft flesh against mine, especially those maturing breasts. I had seen little, though, and I wanted to feast my eyes. So after a few minutes I said to her, “That’ll do for me, I think. I’m getting out now.” “That was – just so good?” she said nervously as we disentangled ourselves and I led the way round the rocks, paddling through the shallows up to the beach, having more sense than to turn round and look at her and embarrass her. I wondered if she would follow me or dive straight for her clothes. Anyway, I wanted to be fairly close to whatever happened, so I walked up close to the rock where she had left her clothes. I chose a sloping rock on a sloping area of sand and sank down next to it, turning round as I did so and wiping my hair away from my face and rubbing my eyes so as not to be seen staring at her open-faced. She kept coming towards me, despite faltering for a moment, smiling nervously, a naked beauty. Her breasts stood out perhaps a little further than I like in a girl. She was so lovely and slender, her waist tapering in then spreading out at her hips, with costume lines on her skin very clear. It was quite obvious that she usually wore a one-piece costume, but occasionally a bikini. And down below her navel was a thin tangle of lovely golden hair, with a clear vagina at the bottom, slightly open and pink in the middle. She had one hand very close to it, her embarrassment clear, but did not actually cover it. I smiled at her, looking her in the eyes, and held out an arm to her again. Nervously she turned round, giving a glimpse of her smooth white fleshy bottom, and then sank down between my knees, back to me, wrapping her arms around them as she did so. Then she looked back at me over her shoulder, smiling red-cheeked. “This is – just so good?” she blurted out. “It’s lovely with you,” I assured her. Then I said, “You know, I promise you that I will never ever do anything to you that you don’t want me to do. Okay?” She smiled and nodded. “So tell me to stop if you’re not happy about anything,” I said. I reached out my hands and put them gently round the stomach, taking great care not to touch either her breasts or her pubic hair, which wasn’t very easy since she was rather crouched and leaning forward. I pulled gently and whispered to her, “May I do this?” Again she nodded, but I felt her tense. Gently I pulled her back until she was leaning on me, as Marina and Shelley so often do, her back against my chest and my penis pushed between my own skin and her bottom. She leaned back, smiling, and rested the back of her head on my shoulder. I kept my hands on her stomach, massaging her skin gently. In our new position, I could now see over her shoulder down the length of her body, which perhaps she didn’t realise. Her breasts stood out almost like inverted teacups, swelling out at the sides but rounded on top, with a bright pink nipple standing up a little in the middle. My hands itched to massage them, but I knew I had better wait my time. Beneath those breasts I couldn’t see my own hands, still massaging, but I could see that layer of straggly golden hair, with the dark wide slit of her vagina emerging beneath to disappear between her legs, with a touch of pink inside. “This is – lovely,” she declared. “Please don’t stop.” Then she said, “I’m glad you’re so different from the guys at my school. Some of them just want to see my body all the time, but you don’t. I had one jerk who wanted to feel me, too. But you’re different.” “That’s just lust,” I told her. “There’s a world of difference between love and lust. My feeling for you – is love.” This, I must admit here, is a half-truth. The lust to see and to feel is alive and well in me, but the secret is not to let the girl know until she wants it. I had been very successful with Lana. “I hate wearing a bikini in public, you know?” Lana went on. “I feel some of the guys are just watching me, hoping to – to see inside. And I know they talk about girls sometimes when they watch us, but I don’t know what they’re saying. But you’re not like that.” “It’s wonderful to me that you trust me so much – my little sister,” I smiled at her, kissing her gently on the ear. “Mmm,” she murmured in pleasure, turning her head so that her cheek rested on my neck, just under my chin. “I like it when you rub me,” she murmured. I realised that I had stopped, without realising it, so I resumed rubbing her stomach. “Massage service resumed, ma’am,” I said. She didn’t invite me to massage any of her more private areas, so I just kept on gently kneading her soft but firm skin, moving imperceptibly down inside her hip, rubbing the thin smooth skin of her loins but without touching her pubic hair or vagina. The water on our bodies evaporated and I began to feel hot again. So clearly did Lana, as after a few minutes she said, “I feel like a swim again.” “You feel like a girl to me,” I joked, still rubbing. Then I said, “Let’s do that.” We climbed off the rock and jumped in together, holding hands. It was a wonderful feeling, the fresh cool water against our hot skins, and ourselves against each other. After a brief swim we stood in the water in each other’s arms again, myself facing the shore and Lana facing the sea. We held each other gently and talked. After a couple of minutes, a movement in the trees behind the beach caught my eye. I saw something of a light ginger colour disappear behind a bush, and I was sure it could only have been Sarah’s head. No doubt she had come to find us. Sure enough, her head popped out again from behind another bush, and I could tell she had seen us. I half-closed my eyes, trying to pretend I had not seen her and wondering what she would do, especially when she saw Lana was now naked. Slowly Sarah moved round towards the big rock that was to our left, not aware that I had seen her. She was still wearing her white shirt and cut-off jeans. Lana, of course, had her back to Sarah and could not see her, and her hair was half-covering my eyes so probably Sarah could not see my face properly. No doubt she expected me to move or call out if I saw her, but I kept quiet and still, wondering what she would do, and listening all the time to Lana telling me about her family, school and friends. Sarah was quite still for about three or four minutes, crouched behind a bush watching us. As I expected, she got bored in the end and crept out. She waved a hand in the air, probably to check whether I had seen her. But I kept my eyes half-closed, pretending I had seen nothing. I learned later that she was a little short-sighted and did not realise that I would be able to see her more clearly than she could see me. For another minute or so Sarah kept still, crouched on the ground, twice wiping sweat off her face. I could feel my heart pounding harder as I guessed she wanted to swim with us and cool off. Eventually the desire overpowered the fear. She waved again vigorously, but I took no notice. She seemed to decide that I couldn’t see her and it was safe. Slowly her hands went up to her shoulders. I gave a shudder as I anticipated with excitement what was about to happen. Lana stopped her story to ask if I was all right, and I replied that I was, but could hardly believe how lucky I was to be holding her in my arms. She hugged me tighter at that, but I was distracted. I watched Sarah pulling off her shirt, in one swift movement once she had decided to do it. She had not put on her bra again. I caught no more than a glimpse of little pointed breasts before she covered them up with her hands and froze to the spot, no doubt terrified by what she had done. It was another half minute, I suppose, before she slowly lowered her hands and even more slowly rose to her feet, standing in a crouch, looking at us. I could see her growing breasts, unlike Lana’s, were cone-shaped, with her pink nipples forming the point at the top. Then her hands were at her waist and she swiftly dragged off her jeans, just as quickly clutching them up in her hands to cover her groin. I had only a quick glimpse of a patch of light gingery pubic hair. For a few seconds she stood there, bent double with her ugly faded blue cut-off jeans clutched to her loins, before she found her next batch of courage. She dropped the jeans to the ground, again giving me the quickest of glimpses of a little oblong patch of her pubic hair, and then scampered like lightning over to the rock on our left and out of my line of direct vision. Moments later there was a great splash about a metre away from us, a scream of fright from Lana, and a scream of joy and fun from Sarah. Like some girls do when somewhat embarrassed by nakedness, Sarah wanted, I am sure, to draw attention away from it with noisy excited behaviour. As Lana, quite startled, let go of me, I felt Sarah grab hold of me round my neck and try to duck me, and could feel her knees pressed up against my body, laughing loudly all the time. I had expected Sarah to jump in but I hadn’t expected to be attacked, in fun. I pretended to be completely taken by surprise and wrestled with her, shouting for help. I forced her over on her back and turned her round, pushing her right over. I pushed one hand between her legs, feeling my fingers brushing hard against her pubic hair. She was squealing and wrestling all the time, so I kept wrestling with her, pretending I was trying to capture her but unable to get a grip on her. As I rolled her again, I felt a breast under my hand, firm and pointed, and for a moment held it in my fingers, pressing the soft flesh and feeling the nipple at the end. Then I heard Lana shout from behind me, “Sarah! Roy, it’s only Sarah!” I grasped her firmly and pressed her back to mine, holding her by the chest and feeling her half-grown breasts under my fingers again. She squealed and fought. “Roy, it’s all right, it’s only Sarah!” I heard Lana shouting at me, pulling at my shoulder, afraid I would hurt her sister. I released Sarah and she swam away to shallower water in a hurry. Then she turned round and looked at me, a rather shocked expression on her face. She obviously hadn’t expected me to resist her. “Sarah!” I exclaimed, trying to sound amazed. “I was wondering if it was those thugs come back! Sarah, I hope I didn’t hurt you.” Sarah looked quite indignant. “You hurt my boobs,” she protested, her hands pressed over her breasts, which were under water so I could not see them clearly anyway. “And you touched me – privately.” “It wasn’t Roy’s fault, Sarah,” Lana burst out in my support. “You gave him a fright. He didn’t know it was you.” “I’m sorry, Sarah, I just felt somebody attacking me and trying to push me under the water,” I apologised, sounding really concerned. “I might have hit you or something. I’m so sorry I hurt you.” This is the only time I have ever deliberately touched a girl in her private places without knowing she wanted it, but these were different circumstances. I had only been defending myself much as anybody else would, wasn’t I? But certainly I hadn’t been aware of doing any violence to her breasts, and I wondered if this was not just an excuse to cover her embarrassment – even if it didn’t cover anything else! “I think I’ve got bruises,” muttered Sarah, still talking about her breasts. “They’re sore. You hurt them.” “Let me look, Sarah,” said Lana, propelling herself through the water towards her sister, looking most concerned. Sarah turned her back to me and waded through to shallower water. Lana followed her and turned round to examine Sarah’s breasts, at the same time giving me my first full frontal view of her own breasts. They were beautifully white and smooth, with moderate-sized pink nipples, the rounded shape, like an inverted teacup, being very clear. I couldn’t see what they were doing, as Sarah intended, but Lana quickly said, “That looks fine, Sarah – no marks or bruises.” “It feels all right now,” admitted Sarah. She turned round and looked at me, then she turned back and put a hand over Lana’s breasts, to cover them. “Lana, he can see you,” she warned. “I don’t mind, I trust him,” replied Lana, smiling a little nervously in my direction. “He’s a naturist - he’s seen hundreds of girls.” The word `naked’, I gathered, was implied. “I don’t look if people are shy,” I assured Sarah casually. “Do you think Lana has a beautiful body?” Sarah asked pertly, turning and propelling herself through the water towards me, using her arms. For a few seconds the top part of her breasts was visible above the water and I had a better view of those little pointed cones. “Very,” I answered, smiling at Lana. “But naturists don’t worry about that. We accept each other’s bodies, whether they are beautiful or not.” “Mine isn’t beautiful, so you won’t want to see that,” denied Sarah. “Trust him, Sarah,” Lana urged. “I do.” “Duck him, more likely!” laughed Sarah, reaching out for me. “Come on, Lana, let’s duck him!” Lana suddenly laughed too, and surged towards me. “Wait, wait!” I cried out. Holding up my hands, urgently enough to stop them. “If you’re going to jump on me, Sarah, I can’t help it if I touch you privately!” “Yes, you can!” laughed Sarah, surging towards me again. Lana came with her. They reached out to grasp me, obviously not caring what I touched. I counter-attacked, pushing my way through the water towards them with an arm outstretched to each. They grabbed my arms and the romp began. I certainly had my hands full. As we wrestled, the most prominent part of their bodies seemed to be their breasts. Wherever I pushed or pulled, it seemed impossible to avoid them. As the girls tried to pile on top of me, the undersides of their breasts were forever pushing against my arms. As I grabbed them and pulled them, I always seemed to be wrapping my arms round their breasts. I kept my arms up and made sure I kept them away from their vaginas. Twice I felt Sarah’s leg brushing against my penis under water, and felt rather afraid I might get kicked accidentally in the testicles. It was for fear of hurting their delicate breasts that I lost the fight. I dared not hold or push too hard when, with two attacking me at once, I could not be careful enough where I put my hands. Slowly I felt them pushing me under the water, laughing with delight. I took a deep breath and sank, keeping my eyes open to try to see under water, but there was too much turbulence. As soon as I was underneath, they let go of me. I opened my eyes, hoping to be able to see them under the water, but the salt water stung my eyes and the water was too unsettled. I floated to the top, to see them laughing at me. Still laughing, we splashed our way together over to the shallows towards the beach. Lana splashed alongside me this time, but Sarah kept behind and out of my line of vision. Just as I was about ankle-deep in the water, Sarah gave another loud scream and leapt on my back. I could feel her arms wrapped around my neck and her knees around my waist. I gave a roar and reached back round her waist, ripping her off me. She gave a startled squeal, not expecting me to be so strong. Laughing, I pushed her down on her back in the shallows, kicking wildly. My eyes had a glorious second-long view of a long vagina, reaching down between her legs, but with the top end obscured by a thin line of golden-ginger pubic hair fluffing up the middle of her loins. I so longed to get my hands down there and fondle and massage, but I could never do that uninvited. Under normal circumstances! I only had a moment to enjoy the view, as Lana grabbed me round the neck, coming playfully to the defence of her sister. I wrapped an arm round her waist, feeling her breasts under my armpit, and staggered out of the water to find somewhere dry to continue. Then I collapsed deliberately on the sand, pulling Lana down with me. We rolled over together, myself on top, and I began to tickle her in the ribs gently. She squealed and laughed, wriggling and kicking. Again I had a breath-taking view of her loins, her vagina wider and pinker inside than Sarah’s, but not so visible because of the thicker mass of lighter-coloured pubic hair at the top. Sarah now leapt on top of me, shouting and laughing. I could feel her cool, smooth, wet skin on my back, and the soft swelling of her breasts. “Wait, stop!” I shouted at her. She stopped, startled, and let go. “We’d better stop this,” I said to them both, but especially to Sarah. “I’m afraid I’ll touch you privately by accident, and then you won’t like it again.” “I don’t care,” snorted Sarah, and jumped on me again. I rolled over and pinned her down on her back, tickling her ribs gently. Her little pointed breasts heaved as she laughed and giggled. She drew back her legs and tried to kick me off her. I grabbed her and held her round her ankles, but she still kicked. I tucked her shins under my armpits while she heaved and kicked. Beneath me was the glorious sight of her vagina gaping between her legs, with those long strands of ginger hair right down between her legs and the shorter strands, stuck together with seawater, spreading their tendrils across the top of her vagina but without obscuring that secret place very much yet. Lana was pushing at me and I rolled over, dragging her down on top of me. I could feel her soft but firm breasts wobbling under my hands as she struggled, and her leg pressed down on my penis. Sarah pushed in and sat on my chest. I put my hands on her shoulders and pushed. She rolled back against Lana, kicking her legs up as I swung myself upright again. For a second her lovely developing vagina was right under my eyes, almost close enough for me to reach out and kiss. I had a glimpse of the black slit inside the lips, the strands of pale ginger hair adorning the top and below the curve under between her legs and the loose darker pink skin underneath. I almost choked with the delight of it all. But this was enough for the girls. They collapsed on the sand, laughing and panting for breath, breasts heaving and legs spread apart to reveal those magnificent maturing vaginas that they had been so anxious to keep hidden such a short time earlier. I found a rock and leaned against it, tired as well and trying not to make my admiration of their charms too obvious. “Sarah, this is how I sat with Roy before you came,” Lana said proudly, standing up and coming over to sit between my legs again, leaning back. I dutifully massaged her tummy gently. Sarah watched in envy, and then said, “Let me have a turn.” Kindly Lana rolled out of the way and Sarah sat down between my legs, brushing my penis gently with her hand as she did so – deliberately, I suspected, but mainly I think just through curiosity as to what it felt like. I kept my hands to myself unless invited. “Massage me,” ordered Sarah, bumping back against me to get me moving. I held up my hands on either side of her. “Where?” I asked. “On her butt,” giggled Lana. “Here,” retorted Sarah, taking my hands and slapping them down on her breasts. My heart thudded as I began to rub. “No, I didn’t mean there!” scolded Sarah with a giggle. But she didn’t move them, so she obviously had meant `there’! “Oh, all right then,” she consented, with a typically false feminine show of reluctance, as I went on massaging. I could feel her firm little nipples under my fingers and the little smooth breasts wobbling under my hands. There was a murmur from Lana, supposedly of disapproval but really, I’m sure, of jealousy. “Now it’s me again, Sarah,” said Lana, hardly able to contain herself more than about ten seconds. “Oh, I’ve room for you both,” I assured her, taking a hand off Sarah and holding it out to Lana. “Come and lie on my side.” She sat down, leaning her head back against my shoulder and placing my hand on the side of her breast. I indulged myself, rubbing gently, feeling the softness, the roundness, stroking the contours, rubbing the hard knobbly nipple very tenderly. I hoped Sarah could not feel my penis struggling under her back to cope with the strain. “Enough,” said Sarah after a couple of minutes. “Now my tummy.” She picked up my hand and slapped it down on her tummy. Only it wasn’t quite her tummy. I could feel the groove as her loins joined her leg and I could feel strands of light, damp, downy hair under my fingers. Trying to control my breathing, I rubbed gently, feeling just the top of the little groove that was her vagina. “Lana’s very ticklish between her legs, you know,” suggested Sarah mischievously. “Oh, Sarah, so are you,” Lana counter-accused. “No, I’m not,” Sarah denied. “You can try me if you like, Roy.” “I could never tickle you there,” I protested. This seemed to strengthen Sarah’s resolve, as I had hoped. “Try it,” she giggled, taking my hand and placing it between her legs. Trying to hide my excitement, I reached out my hand and rubbed, feeling the loose skin, feeling the long strands of hair, feeling that little opening beneath my fingers. Then Sarah squealed and wriggled, pushing my hand away. It did seem a bit much for Lana to handle, though, and she didn’t make any further suggestions about what I could do with my hands. “My friend Nancy would be so jealous if she could see me,” giggled Sarah. “She likes to boast about what she does with her boyfriend.” “I don’t think it’s true,” said Lana scathingly. “She’s just showing off. But I know some girls in my class aren’t virgins any more. They ask me if I’ve ever seen a boy naked – an older boy, I mean, like you – and I tell them yes, but really I haven’t – or not until today.” “Except for Chuck Schuller,” put in Sarah in disgust. “He’s the boy next door,” she explained to me. “He’s disgusting.” “He’s only eleven, though,” said Lana. “He doesn’t have a grown-up - thing.” “You know what he does?” Sarah continued. “He pulls down his pants and sticks his butt out at us.” “His bedroom window is opposite mine,” Lana told me. “And he takes his clothes off and dances around naked inside, when he knows we’re watching. He even waves at us. We can see his – his thing.” “And he opens his window and pees out of it,” put in Sarah, looking disgusted. “It all goes in the flowerbed underneath.” “Sometimes he gets it stiff and it all goes up first,” Lana contributed, referring presumably to the stream of urine now. “We tell him to stop but he does it all the more. He just laughs.” “Perhaps you should laugh at him, like Kimberley would,” I chuckled. Then I had to tell them both about Kimberley and the yobs in the other boat. Lana and Sarah were disgusted at that behaviour. “But it’s good being naked when it’s in the right place,” said Sarah, whose ideas of what constituted a right place had changed radically during the last hour. “I’m glad we met you.” “Is that the only reason?” I grinned, as Lana signalled to Sarah that it was her turn to be massaged by me again. Sarah reluctantly got to her feet, raised her hands in the air and did a handstand. The breasts almost flattened themselves as her chest stretched, and her long legs stuck up gracefully in front of me, her elegant light-ginger-coated vagina curving up between her legs. She could not stay upside down for long, so I said, “You really need to do it against a tree or get someone to hold you when you do that.” “Will you hold me, please?” she asked. Despite jealous protests from Lana, I stood up to help her. This was an invitation I could not refuse. She did her handstand towards me and I caught her legs as she swung them up. I held her legs a little apart, one against each shoulder, and below me I could see those lovely deep pink folds of skin between her legs, creased and lined with her downy hair at the top. I feasted my eyes, talking to her all the time lest Lana should suspect me, before gently pushing her down again. Of course after a few turns Lana wanted to try it, and that was even more a sight for sore eyes. Being older, her vagina area was more developed, more fleshy, more pink, more open at the bottom and more hairy, although not in an ugly way like so many older girls’ are. Or perhaps I am just biased. This was bliss, the wonderful trusting intimacy of two girls who had never trusted even their underwear to any boy before. (To be continued) SAILING ADVENTURE (CHAPTER 9) After a few more minutes of intimacy, Lana’s natural sense of responsibility returned to her. “The others are alone,” she said. “I think I’d better be getting back to them.” “I suppose so,” I groaned reluctantly. “But remember, they’re my responsibility now, not yours.” Lana put her arms around me and we kissed gently, which of course made Sarah jealous. So I took Sarah in my arms next, feeling her pointed cone-shaped little breasts against my chest. She looked up at me with her light ginger hair, still wet, straggling across her forehead, a hopeful smile on her face and her snub nose raised. Gently I kissed her on her soft damp cheek. She giggled, and kissed me on my jaw rather wetly. “Now it’s our turn,” I heard a pert voice say. Turning round, I saw Shelley and Galina coming up just behind me, hand in hand. Galina, with her little round glasses, her timid demeanour and her thin, bony little naked body, looked so vulnerable and miserable, but Shelley was as confident as ever. “Galina was upset because she woke up and was missing you, so we came to find you,” she explained, wrapping her arms round my neck. She gave me a kiss and then jumped straight into the sea. She hadn’t seemed at all surprised to see the American girls naked. Gently I knelt down to put my arms round the miserable-looking little Galina. I was rewarded with her thin white arms around my neck. I rubbed my cheek against her cold little cheek and then kissed her gently. “You all right, darling?” I whispered in her ear. “Yes,” she breathed. Then she said in some surprise, “Nobody ever talked to me like that before.” “That’s because you haven’t found a good boyfriend yet,” I teased her with a smile, running my fingers up and down her flat, thin chest and tummy. “I don’t want a boyfriend,” she answered. “I just want you.” “And I want you, you lovely little thing,” I smiled at her, rubbing her cheeks. Nobody could call her pretty, but she was so timid, so vulnerable, so helpless and now so trusting that I only wanted to build her up and protect her. I stood up with her arms around my neck and held her like a baby, astride my hip, with her thin little vagina tucked in against my side. “Is Maggie all right?” Lana called out to Shelley, who was still splashing around in the water. “She’s fine,” called back Shelley. “Building a sandcastle last time I saw her.” “I guess we’d better get back to her, though,” said Lana, going over to her clothes and picking them up, ready to put them on. Sarah joined her. “Yuch! They’re a bit wet,” she complained. “No need to worry about Maggie,” I assured Lana. “Marina’s with them, and she’s brilliant at looking after younger ones.” “She may have gone off to look for us,” Lana replied, starting to drag on her damp panties. “No, Marina’s not like that,” I assured her. “I promise you, she’ll look after Maggie well.” “Lana, I reckon we should just leave our clothes off for now,” Sarah suggested. “They’re too wet and – we really don’t need them here.” She giggled, then added, “Besides, yours aren’t working too well, anyway!” “I guess you’re right,” said Lana doubtfully. “Nobody else is wearing them.” Then she straightened up and asked me, “What about that little boy – Scott? Will he – what will he do if we go there without any clothes?” “He won’t do anything,” I assured her, hoping that Scott had also reached the stage of maturity when he wouldn’t say anything either. “He might stare a bit at first, but that’s because he was sure you’d be too scared to take them off.” “Oh, that’s silly, we’re not scared,” Sarah tried to assure me crossly. “We’re just not used to it. But I like it now. It doesn’t really matter. But, Lana, we’d better not tell Mum and Dad. And we’d better tell Maggie to keep quiet about it as well.” “I do hope Dad’s all right,” worried Lana, tears coming into her eyes again. Then she suddenly looked worried. “What if he’s come back already – and sees us like this?” “If he was back already, we’d hear him calling you,” I assured her. “You’ll have plenty of time to get dressed before he sees you.” “Still, we’d better hurry,” decided Sarah, picking up her clothes and setting off into the trees. Lana hurried after her. I followed, holding Galina by the hand, and Shelley, grumbling a bit, came out of the sea and joined us. “Why do you two wear such awful clothes?” she asked charmingly of Lana and Sarah. They looked at her in surprise. “They’re not awful!” exclaimed Sarah indignantly. “What’s awful about them?” demanded Lana. “They’re not proper *girls’* clothes!” Shelley informed them. “They’re – just weird. Like untidy boys’ clothes. How can you look good in clothes like that?” “What do *you* think we should wear, then?” Sarah challenged crossly. “Dresses, skirts, blouses, like we do,” pointed out Shelley. “In our country girls like to look pretty. We certainly don’t want to dress like boys.” “Shelley, remember people live in different ways in different countries,” I put in cunningly. “Girls may like to be real girls in this country, but in America so often they want to behave more like boys, so they dress that way. They’re not interested so much in what they look like.” “That’s not true, so!” shouted Sarah. “We do care!” “But not really about clothes,” I replied gently. “I think you really wear clothes like these mostly because your friends do – don’t you!” I smiled at them. “It’s the fashion,” argued Sarah. “What’s wrong with the fashion?” “Nothing, if that’s what you really want,” I answered. “I love to see girls looking beautiful, like Shelley and Galina do in their lovely dresses, but it’s for you to decide what you wear.” “We do have beautiful dresses,” put in Lana, who was taking this discussion more thoughtfully. “We just wear them when we go somewhere special, though. Not when we’re going out on a yacht because we’ll get them dirty.” “That’s all right – it’s just a pity,” I smiled at her. “You two would look so beautiful if you dressed well.” “I don’t care,” snorted Sarah. Shelley snorted too, but I didn’t argue. I thought I had made my point, and they looked thoughtful as we made our way back across the island. In a few minutes we were back at the beach where we had first arrived. On the way I did see, through the bushes some distance away, a little white bottom squatting near the ground. Judging by the tanned legs, I guessed it was Danielle, finding somewhere private to defecate. Back on the beach Marina, as I expected, was watching over the others very responsibly. Charlotte had buried Scott in the sand and was just finishing the job. Kimberley and Maggie were building a sandcastle, Kimberley sitting there with her legs wide open and her plump vagina looking ready to spill its contents as usual. Maggie was squatting with her knees up, the loose skin at the bottom of her vagina clearly dark pink and visible next to her heels. Maggie jumped to her feet, mouth open with astonishment as she gazed at her sisters. “You – you’re naked!” she gasped in surprise. “Who cares?” snorted Sarah, who had cared very much until about half an hour earlier. “Our clothes got wet,” Lana excused herself, spreading them out on the rocks to dry. “But Maggie, don’t tell Mum or Dad, okay? Then I won’t tell them about you either.” Scott came up, also looking astonished as well as very sandy. Fortunately he remembered not to stare too much at the girls. He sidled up to me with a bemused grin and whispered, “Roy, you’re a genius! How did you do it?” “Do what?” I asked him, pretending not to understand. “Get them naked,” he answered, pointing back over his shoulder at the girls with his thumb. Fortunately they were still talking to Maggie and so did not see the gesture. “It wasn’t difficult without you there,” I smiled down at him, as he shook his penis about to get the rest of the sand off, and out of it. “Tell you later if you’re sensible.” I left Scott pulling back his foreskin to seek and destroy any grains of sand that might have dared to invade the privacy of his little pink prepuce. Maggie was watching him with an expression of utter fascination, but he didn’t appear to notice. “Roy, are you going to try those flares again?” Lana asked me. “I’ll try the matches,” I agreed, going over to them. I did, but could get no more than a little spark from them. The wet matchsticks broke very easily. I was just giving it up again when I heard some sounds of dissatisfaction behind me. Turning round, I could see Scott shouting angrily at Maggie, who was running away. She stopped and turned just as I thought she was going to disappear into the trees. “What’s going on?” I asked, while Lana was asking the same question to Maggie. “Maggie pulled my piss,” complained Scott crossly, stretching out his penis as if to show me the damage. “She did it like this,” explained Charlotte, reaching out her open hand, palm downwards, about ten centimetres above Scott’s penis and then closing the fingers into a fist and pulling her hand away, but without touching him. “It wasn’t hard. I don’t know why she did it because he didn’t do anything to her.” “Maggie, how *could* you?” demanded Lana, looking very shocked. Maggie just stood there near the trees, her cute button-hole vagina clear on her little mound, looking very guilty and unhappy. She didn’t answer. “Lana, don’t worry – remember, I’m handling things,” I smiled at her quietly. “Let me talk to Maggie about it.” “Come a minute, Maggie,” I told her quietly, leading her kindly over into the trees. At that moment Danielle slunk out of the undergrowth, looking a little embarrassed. I had forgotten about her. She joined the others, who were watching us. But Marina as usual handled the situation well. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she started a conversation of some sorts that took attention right away from Maggie and myself. A few metres into the bushes I stopped and squatted in front of Maggie, at the same level as she. “Maggie, what did you do?” I asked. She swallowed hard and looked very frightened, with big staring eyes and red cheeks. “Maggie, I’m not cross with you,” I said gently. “But what did you do?” “I – I pulled it,” she whispered. “His – his thing.” “Why did you pull it?” I asked her quietly. “I – I don’t know,” she whispered, looking down at the ground and speaking so quietly I could hardly hear her. “He – he was pulling it.” I could understand what she meant, because Scott has a habit of idly pulling at or fidgeting with his penis in relaxed moments. Maybe he thinks that will make it grow, especially after my teasing him in the bedroom. “So why did *you* pull it, then?” I asked gently. Tears welled in Maggie’s eyes as she looked hard at the ground. “I don’t know,” she whispered in the end. I thought I could guess. “Did you just wonder what it felt like?” I asked her. She looked up at me, eyes wide in surprise, and slowly she nodded. Her face crumpled as she prepared to cry. “I understand that,” I told her, smiling at her. “I know you just did it without thinking. But do you think it’s a good thing to touch people in their private places? Would you let Scott touch your vagina?” I immediately realised that Maggie was not familiar with that word, but she looked down at herself and realised what it was. Then she suddenly brightened up and said, “Kimberley calls it her pussy. Or her twinkle. Or her cunt. She says it can be called lots of things.” She sounded very proud of her new store of knowledge. “Kimberley uses a lot of rude words that I would never use,” I told her. Then I got back to the issue. “But would you want Scott to touch your vagina?” Maggie looked serious again. Slowly she shook her head. “I won’t do it again,” she whispered. “Do you need to say anything to Scott?” I asked. She nodded. “Sorry,” she muttered, so I could hardly hear her. “I’m sure Scott will forgive you,” I assured her. “It’s all right – you know now not to do it again. Okay?” I smiled at her and held out my arms. In relief as much as anything, she flung herself into them, her hot little bare body pressed against mine. She gave out a wail and sobbed loudly, the tears flowing on to my shoulder. I could see the others looking towards us to see what was happening, but Marina stopped them from doing more than stare. Maggie soon got over it. She quietened down, then turned her head to look at me, her mouth pulled down. I smiled into her eyes and kissed her gently on her hot wet cheek. “It’s all right,” I assured her. “Just tell Scott.” I let her go and she walked uncertainly over to where Scott was standing, looking uncertain himself. All the others were now watching, and it was beyond the power of Marina or anybody else to distract them. “I’m sorry, Scott,” Maggie whispered to him as he stood there, unconsciously holding the end of his penis with his fingers. Then she stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. Scott looked quite taken aback. He recovered himself enough to say awkwardly, “It’s all right, Maggie.” Kimberley gave a rude snort of laughter, but fortunately she looked at me, and I was able to shoot her a warning glance before she added some rude words. Charlotte burst in with, “What about the matches, Roy? Won’t they work?” “Not yet,” I answered, feeling very much as if they would never work. Locally made matches are not very well made and spending some time in water had probably finished them off. “But don’t worry – they’re sure to find us today or tomorrow.” “Tomorrow!” exclaimed Charlotte in dismay, her eyes filling with tears. “What about our dad?” wailed Lana, sounding almost like a plaintive little girl. “If they don’t find him soon, he’ll die!” “No, with his life jacket he’ll be fine for two or three days,” I assured her, knowing that logically I was correct but just hoping it would prove to be the truth. “But there are so many boats between here and the shore he’s certain to be picked up soon, if he hasn’t already.” It was just after four o’clock now, although it had seemed like an age since we first landed on the island. If it seemed like that to me, it must have seemed an eternity to the younger ones, who were beginning to look unhappy. We carried on playing on the beach or in the sea, but with less enthusiasm now. Danielle was beginning to get weepy, especially as some of the white areas usually hidden under her costume were beginning to grow red from the sun. I used some more of our sun cream on her, rubbing it in for her, and sat on the beach, holding her gently. Her silky black hair flowed over my shoulder as she leaned her head against it, seeking comfort. I looked down at her lovely slim two-tone body and rubbed her cheek gently. Looking down, I smiled warmly as I saw her two little nipples just emerging from her chest, and could just see her lovely little vagina slipping down between her legs, with her brown birthmark just in view. It had felt just like a tiny, very slightly raised bump when I had rubbed cream on it, as she had asked me to. She had not seemed shy about it since we landed on the island. As the sun began to go down, I tried again with the matches, but still without success. All the others were getting weepy now, except for Shelley, Marina and Scott who were quite confident with me, but the rest were missing their parents. Lana and Sarah were worried about their father, while Charlotte was still very shocked and worried about the damage to her father’s boat. The sun set, but fortunately the moon was almost full and gave enough light for us to see where we were, and the stars were brilliant. It was still scorchingly hot. We found some berries to eat and dug for more water in the sand. The best way to keep cool, I suggested, was to lie in the shallow water of the sea. There is little tide in the Mediterranean, and the waves were no more than ripples on this little island, so it was very pleasant to do that. We each scooped up some sand, although it was likely to slide away very easily, on which to rest our heads and lay down side by side in the water. I had Galina on one side of me and Scott on the other, both close enough to be touching me and resting their heads on my shoulder rather than the slithery sand. I could see Scott watching fascinated as his little penis bobbed about gently in the water as it rippled. Well, mine was doing much the same thing. We talked, and Marina and I told stories to try to keep everybody interested. Having had a nap in the middle of the day, it was a couple of hours before the younger ones began to feel tired. We dragged ourselves out of the water and set to work digging beds for ourselves on the beach. “May I sleep next to you, Scott?” I heard Kimberley ask plaintively. “No, I’ve got Charlotte,” he answered firmly. “And – and Roy.” Even though he was nowhere near me this time. Scott’s interest in Kimberley obviously began and ended with anatomy. It was clear from his voice that he disliked her. Kimberley sidled up to me. “Roy,” she whined quietly, trying to keep anybody else from hearing. “Please may I sleep next to you? I’m missing my mum and dad so much.” This time Danielle was settling down on one side of me but nobody else had yet showed an interest in the other side, except Scott, who was still talking to Charlotte a couple of metres away. I did not really fancy the idea and did not really believe she was missing her parents very much, but I thought it might be a way of building a bridge with Kimberley and perhaps influencing her for good, so I agreed. My good deed for the day. We all settled down, the others rather belatedly showing an interest in sleeping next to me, but that had already been settled. Everybody seemed to want a good-night hug and kiss from me, so I obliged all round. There was a lot of hugging and kissing among the others, too, especially between Scott and Charlotte. We settled down, with Danielle holding one of my hands. I was next to Kimberley, but I deliberately kept the other hand by my side. It was no use, though, as she grabbed it and wrapped it around her neck, nestling the back of my head against her shoulder. I hoped I would not be expected to stay like that all night, but I was trying to show some friendliness to the girl, however difficult that was. “Roy, massage me,” she murmured. Stifling a groan, I rubbed her tummy gently. “All over,” she instructed after a few seconds, taking my hand and moving it upwards. I found myself rubbing her flabby chest, with those bulging wobbly things that passed, at the moment, for breasts. The nipples were very floppy under my fingers and beneath it felt more like fat than anything else. “Now down again,” she whispered after a minute, moving my hand down sharply. I could feel a depression under my fingers and some little folds of flesh. It was, of course, her vagina. I could feel the flabby folds wobbling under my fingers, which felt as if they could just slide into the large slit in the middle. “Ooh, that’s too far,” she giggled, but did not move my hand. I pulled a face, which she could not see, of course, and continued to rub gently, telling myself that would be as far as I would go. Suddenly I felt a fistful of fingers slowly wrapping itself around my penis. At the same moment there was a dirty giggle. I thrust her away angrily. “What do you think you’re doing?” I hissed indignantly, trying not to disturb the others. “My dad lets me do that to him,” she replied, sounding hurt. “He tells me to make it stiff for him. He says it feels good. Then we play sex together. When his chop is hard, he opens my twinkle and puts it inside. He bounces up and down and we have fun.” I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I knew there is such a thing as incest between fathers and daughters, but never expected to come across it. I was disgusted. “And what does your mother think of all this?” I asked coldly. Kimberley gave her famous dirty giggle. “She doesn’t know,” she said. “Daddy says it’s our private game. We do it on Wednesday nights when my mum is out playing bridge. The first time he did it, I didn’t like it, because it hurt so much and made me bleed. But my dad said it would get more fun next time we did it and he’d buy me a bicycle, so we did it again. And he was right, because it’s so much fun now. You should hear what funny noises he makes when we play. So that’s why I want to play it with you, because I like you. Do you know how to play?” “I am not going to play it with you and it’s not a game,” I whispered to her angrily. “So keep your hands off me and go to sleep.” “Aw, please, Roy,” she whined, nagging at me and tugging my arm. I pushed her off. “Keep your hands off and go to sleep, or else I’ll make you move somewhere else,” I ordered her. “I’ll go, then. See if I care,” she snorted, standing up and stamping her foot. I glared at her as hard as I could in the light of the moon, then turned away. She stood there for a moment, then I heard her stamping away to the outskirts of the group, trying to get as far from me as possible. I heard mutterings from some of the other girls whom she was disturbing. Maggie gave a little murmur and sneaked into the place Kimberley had vacated, just beating Galina to it. She snuggled up closely to me, sprawling over my side and chest, and promptly went to sleep. I think I did too, very quickly. (To be continued) SAILING ADVENTURE (CHAPTER 10) Things happened quickly the following morning. All the parents of those in my original group had of course raised the alarm when we didn’t return home, but there had only been time for a search close to shore that night before night fell, although they did continue to try. Thanks to that search they picked up the Americans’ father from the sea at about nine o’clock at night, not in a very good state but not needing to go to hospital. So they had his girls to look for the following morning as well as us, and were able to come almost straight to the island as their dad knew more or less where it was. They were very relieved to find us all together. They arrived almost at first light. We were just getting up slowly after a rather disturbed night when we heard the buzzing of two helicopters in the distance. We had just enough time to throw on our clothes before they arrived, and we were airlifted out. The parents were all waiting for us, worried and bleary-eyed. Lara, whose new confidence did not extend beyond the island yet, borrowed my shirt to cover herself in front of the adults. They were very relieved to see us, but very angry to hear what the yobs had done, especially Charlotte’s dad, who would be held responsible for the loss of the boat or any damage to it. The police got to work, and within an hour had picked up the three yobs by the harbour, as I identified them. Of course they denied they had ever seen us before and refused to pay the damages the boat hire company was demanding of Charlotte’s dad. We were all at the police station, and I asked the police if I could speak to the leader of the yobs in private. They rather reluctantly agreed, putting us in an empty room together but ready to rush in if there was any violence. I told the yob leader straight away, speaking in his own language, that Charlotte’s dad was furious and he was determined to take the matter to court if the yobs were not prepared to settle outside court. He just laughed mockingly. “We have proof it was you,” I told him, playing my trump card. “We have one little girl who would be absolutely delighted to stand up in court and describe to the whole world and the newspapers exactly what your penis looks like. She will think it is very funny.” After that, it was easy. He did not even seem to consider the possibility of having plastic surgery on that part of his anatomy, or of doing a private mutual exchange of organs with Scott. He very quickly persuaded his friends that the game was up, and Charlotte’s dad was virtually able to dictate terms to them. We didn’t have any more problems in that direction. Later that day we had another problem, though. I was in our flat with Charlotte, Marina, Scott and Shelley when a large car screeched to a stop outside and Kimberley’s father hammered on our door. Kimberley had told him about our proposed visit to a naturist beach and about how we were all naked on the island, as well as a few lies about how I was supposed to have seduced her. Being a man of such high moral standing, he was outraged. He told me he was going to take me to court. I went cold inside at the thought. But I did have a trump card to play here as well. “There is one problem about a court case, sir,” I told him, successfully putting on an act to appear bold and confident in front of the others. “If we go to court about this, other things will come out as well. Kimberley told me quite a few things that you do with her at home sometimes.” “I don’t know what rubbish you’re talking about,” he blustered at me. “If you think you can threaten me, it will be far worse for you.” I gave him some news he did not want to hear. “About Wednesday nights?” I suggested. “`Oh, good, no babies in there’?” I thought he was going to strangle me. He went purple in the face and started shouting at me, almost out of control. He didn’t even let me speak again, but left shaking his fist and swearing that I would hear more of this. I had a few very tense days, dreading the possibility of his carrying out his threat, although I was sure he knew very well that he could not possibly take the matter any further now. Sure enough, I never heard anything more from him. The others with me all thought I had handled him wonderfully well, without knowing the cold fear within me. They did of course ask exactly what I meant with those two phrases I had thrown at the man, but I did not enlighten them. I also got to know the American family very well. Their father was a noisy, friendly, talkative and impulsive man, but he seemed rather irresponsible to me, as he had been when he swam off and left his daughters alone on the island. He took to me very enthusiastically, and in a couple of days I got the impression he wanted to use me to take care of his daughters while he went off and enjoyed himself in other ways. I was very happy to do this, but I did think his girls deserved more commitment from their father. I was sorry that I never managed to persuade the girls to go to a naturist beach. I think the American fear of nudity had been too deeply instilled in them and they were never willing to go naked in public. In fact, the only time I saw them naked again was when they changed in our flat in preparation for a visit to an ordinary, textile beach. They showed embarrassment at first, in completely different surroundings from the island, but then rather self-consciously changed as we did. We did have some good times together, though, the first of these being just two days after we returned from the island. We went to the amusements together, and their father dropped them off in the morning. I was amazed and delighted to see how beautifully they were dressed, clearly as a result of the conversation on the beach and their desire to win my approval. Lana wore a beautiful light-weight yellow dress, with quite a narrow skirt a few inches above the knees. Sarah wore a white blouse, through which her bra was clearly visible, and a black skirt, quite short and tight. Maggie wore an orange shirt and a knee-length fawn-coloured skirt held at the waist by elastic. “Hey, you lot look so gorgeous,” I exclaimed, beaming. “I think this is what American girls really should dress like!” “We thought you’d like it,” smiled Lana shyly. My girls as usual were wearing pretty dresses, with Charlotte as well. I saw Danielle and Galina again on a couple of occasions, but they were not with us this time. I did not see Kimberley again, nor did any of us really want to, even Charlotte. She told me that now she had found out what Kimberley was really like, she did not want her as a friend any longer. That was sad, as Kimberley needed good friends, but she had only herself to blame – and her father. Perhaps I should have reported her father’s sexual habits anyway, but I was afraid this might cause more trouble than I could handle, especially as Kimberley had apparently been telling lies about me. Even the truth could have been a problem, but the other girls had the sense to keep quiet. In spite of what people may think, I do not enjoy girls in pretty dresses just so I might have a better chance of seeing their panties, although it does help. I’m a great admirer of beauty, and I feel strongly that pretty dresses bring out all the best in a girl’s shape and gracefulness. I am quite capable of admiring a girl in an ankle-length skirt, but don’t think much of shorts, even if they are revealing. Worst of all are the jeans or trousers, which to me take away all a girl’s femininity. It was a while before I had the chance to enjoy the American girls’ underwear this time. I had of course seen it before on the island, but not under a skirt. As we sat together on the bus I admired the beauty of their well-shaped bodies under their dresses and lusted after a sight of their panties, a glimpse of visual intimacy. The three of them had all been given a certain amount of money to spend, and were rather careful how they spent it. When we first arrived, Maggie was eager to go on the trampolines, as were Scott and Charlotte. The others decided to wait a while before spending their money, so we stood and watched them. Every time she bounced up and down, Charlotte’s little blue skirt flew up and down, revealing her delicate white panties. “Tuck your skirt in, Charlotte,” Sarah called out, but she didn’t hear. “Oh, it doesn’t matter,” I said casually, as I so often did. “People in this country aren’t as fussy as Americans. Why make Charlotte feel bad when she’s obviously not worried about it?” “Ooh, look at Maggie,” gasped Lana, with her hand to her mouth. The elastic at Maggie’s waist was clearly a bit too loose. As she bounced up and down, her skirt began to slide down, revealing her light pink panties underneath. After another big bounce, the skirt slid down to her knees. Now aware of what was happening, Maggie tried to pull it up again, but only succeeded in tripping over the hem, which was now down to her ankles, and landing on her bottom. We all had a good laugh, with even Lana and Sarah unable to help themselves, but we were laughing with her, so she didn’t take offence and laughed happily herself. Pulling in up, she started bouncing again, only for it to keep sliding down. Enjoying the fun, she showed off a little, letting it slide down over her bottom each time before pulling it back up. When she had finished, Lana said to her, “You know, Maggie, it’s not so good that people see your underwear like that.” “It doesn’t matter,” piped up Scott. “I don’t mind people seeing my underpants.” He pulled up the leg of his shorts to reveal his light blue pair, to prove his point. “That’s one reason why we don’t wear dresses often,” Sarah told me. “People can see your underpants sometimes.” She was taking a bit of a risk, I thought, with a short skirt like hers, then. But I just answered, “Well, it’s like being naked, as we talked about on the island. The freest people are those who don’t let it bother them. I don’t let worry spoil my freedom.” My best chance came on the big dipper, where the eight of us squeezed together into one carriage. I sat on one side with Marina, Shelley and Maggie, while Scott and Charlotte sat opposite us with Lana and Sarah. Some girls have the shape of legs and lap that tend to cover the view up their skirt when they sit, while some don’t. I was delighted to see straight away that Lana doesn’t. Her skirt was down almost to her knees, but it let light through very easily, and I found I could enjoy a view of the gusset of her white panties as she sat there, with a whole lot more visible for a brief moment as she moved along the seat to make room for Sarah. Sarah’s skirt was shorter, and she had no hope of concealing her panties unless she crossed her legs or kept her hands over the opening. Sitting directly opposite me, I was disappointed to see her do both at first. But we had to hold on to the bar in front of us once the train got in motion, although she still kept her legs crossed at first. As we reached the top and began to shoot downwards, the pressure building up, though, she soon forgot about that and leaned forward, screaming with delight, unfolding her legs but keeping her knees together. I could just see a small patch of light orange panties up her skirt. Then, as the pressure forced her forward and we shot downhill at terrifying speed, she forgot everything else as she screamed with delight. Her knees were spread as wide apart as her tight skirt would allow, revealing a large area of smooth orange underwear inside her black skirt. Looking at Lara, I was similarly thrilled to see her legs open and white panties visible, stretched tightly across that precious vagina I had been honoured and privileged to see on the island. We were all panting for breath and with exhilaration when we finished. “I nearly did a wee in my panties,” Maggie told us gleefully. “So did I,” boasted Scott, pulling at his penis through his usual loose shorts to make his point. “I did really,” he giggled, looking down and revealing a small wet patch on the front of his shorts. “Better wear a nappy next time,” I smiled. “Diaper,” I explained a moment later, seeing the Americans looking puzzled. “If my piss was as long as that horrible man on the boat’s I could tie a knot in it,” Scott smiled brightly. He giggled as the thought took hold of his mind. Yes, it was a great day and a great adventure. Parts of that adventure were not pleasant when they happened, but they were worth it in the end for what I think we all got out of it – the love and intimacy of each other’s company. I can still remember so clearly the soft warmth of those girls’ bodies pressed against my own, the warmth of their love and admiration, and the feeling of gratification that I had, however temporarily, wiped away the fear of nakedness from three lovely American girls. How sad that they will not be going back to spread nudity throughout their country. But, if I need cheering up, I can always remember Scott and his wine bottle . . . The End ___________________________________________________________ BT Yahoo! Broadband - Free modem offer, sign up online today and save £80 http://btyahoo.yahoo.co.uk