THE ENGLISH EXPERIENCE (CHAPTER 7) Frank and Pam, with the best of intentions, had arranged Friday as a ‘rest’ day for me. The girls were all going on a farm visit with some friends, giving me a day to myself that neither the girls nor I wanted. I think the parents had realised their mistake when they made the other arrangement earlier this week, but they had already arranged this day as well and I didn’t feel it would be polite to complain or try to muscle in with their friends. Reluctantly I took a day in Bournemouth. The weather was very much on and off, but the weather forecast promised that ‘summer is on its way for the weekend’. The British were complaining about this being one of the worst summers they could remember, but Frank assured me that they did this most years. Still, this time, he conceded, they did have more reason for it than usual. But even the worst summers do have brief spells of warm, sunny weather. In Bournemouth the weather was windy, with the wind expected to sweep in the approaching high-pressure system. The sky was largely cloudy, with the sun appearing occasionally, but during the afternoon it began to clear. I went down to the beach, which was beginning to fill up with desperate locals and would-be holidaymakers. But textile beaches have little attraction for me and I didn’t stay for too long. I returned to an enthusiastic welcome from the girls and some real excitement. Saturday was the day when Frank had promised a family outing, and with the good weather finally arriving the girls were eager to go to the beach. Of course it would be a textile beach, but at least I would enjoy their company. I longed desperately to be on a naturist beach back home or at our naturist club, with the warm sun soaking into my bare skin. I had my doubts about the family outing, though. Pam had gone straight to bed on her return from work, and since she had been unwell all week I felt sure she wouldn’t be in a fit state to take part in an outing the next day. The girls, except perhaps for Suzanne, seemed oblivious to this, though, as they chattered excitedly about the beach in Bournemouth. My fears were realised. Pam had a sleepless night, and although she felt a little better after that, Frank knew he would have to take her in to the doctor. Clearly she would not be well enough for the outing, and Frank did not feel he could go out and leave her after their return from the doctor. The sun, though, was now shining down brilliantly from a cloudless sky and bringing England to life in an incredible way. All the greenery shone and thrived in the sunlight, and even the houses looked bright and new and attractive. It would certainly be a terrible shame if we were unable to go out and enjoy it. The girls were bitterly disappointed. Frank did suggest we might take the bus into Bournemouth and go to the beach there, although it was certain to be absolutely packed. Then Pam called me into her bedroom. She was obviously very upset at having ruined all the plans. Now she actually suggested that I might take the girls to Bournemouth in her car. As she knew, I had driven on British roads before, as I had been eager to get the experience of driving on the left and had taken the opportunity with two of my father’s contacts who had put me up at the start of my trip. Earlier in the week, when Pam went to the shops after work, she had agreed to let me drive them there, and felt I handled it well – and, of course, I had driven Suzanne to and from the dance on Thursday. Even so I was amazed that she was willing to entrust her girls to my sole care, however guilty she may have felt. But in retrospect I’m sure she felt I could hardly do the girls any harm. On that sunny Saturday the roads would be so congested with people heading for the beach that I would rarely reach thirty kilometres an hour! Statistics apparently had shown that there are fewer serious accidents on British roads on holidays than on normal days, simply because in the congestion hardly anybody could travel fast enough to hurt anybody else! I immediately thought of the naturist beach at Studland, a place I never thought I would have the chance to visit, let alone with the girls. So, as she handed me the car keys, I suggested, “You know, I’m a bit worried about finding my way in Bournemouth because it’s so big, and it will be so busy as well. I read a guidebook the other day that said there are some good beaches in the Swanage area. It might be easier for me to drive there.” Frank had come into the room a couple of minutes earlier, and he chipped in with, “Well, it is a bit further, but certainly you should be able to find your way quite easily. I know how hard it may be to find a parking place in Swanage on a day like this, though! Let’s have a look at the map.” “What about Studland?” put in Pam weakly, to my surprise and delight. “It’s a long time since we went there, but we have never had any trouble parking. And the beach is lovely.” This, I assumed, was the textile beach they were referring to. Perhaps they were unaware that at the far end of the beach there was a naturist area. “That sounds great,” I agreed, trying not to sound too eager. “Let’s try that.” Frank was just trying to give me directions when there was a disturbance downstairs. Michelle had just vomited up her breakfast in the hallway. I don’t know whether she was overexcited or just copying her mother, but she was full of tears and our group was another member short. Suzanne, with distaste but helpful, cleaned up the mess. “We’re never going to get off at this rate,” said Joy sulkily, without showing any sympathy for the sick or gratitude that her mother had volunteered her car to save our outing. A thought suddenly came to me. “Hey, Suzanne, we have a spare place in the car,” I said. “Maybe it’s too late, but I wonder if one of the girls we met at the party could join us. What about Fiona or Elizabeth . . ?” “Yes, I’ll try them,” she replied brightly, going straight to the telephone. With pressure from Tara and Joy, the rest of us started moving the picnic bags and other stuff into Pam’s car. “Do you know why we’re all wearing dresses to go to the beach?” Joy asked me as I opened the boot. When I replied in the negative, she answered, “That’s so we can change into our swimming costumes under our dresses without anybody seeing us.” I wondered how other English people changed on the beach. We were ready two minutes later when Suzanne came out of the house with a smile. “Elizabeth can come,” I was pleased to hear her to say. “She says she’ll be ready in ten minutes, if we can pick her up.” I drove round to her house, following directions from Suzanne, who was in the passenger seat at the front. It was not far away, and when we arrived I parked outside while Suzanne went to ring the doorbell. I joined her so as to introduce myself as a responsible person to Elizabeth’s mother, who assured us that Elizabeth was almost ready. I returned to the car, where the younger girls were fuming with impatience as we waited about five minutes for Elizabeth to join us. I reminded them that we hadn’t given Elizabeth any time to get ready, so it wasn’t her fault, but they were too excited to appreciate that. They were to suffer a lot more frustration before we were to reach Studland. Elizabeth finally came bouncing brightly out of her house, carrying her bag and wearing a yellow sundress with a wide skirt. “Elizabeth always dresses so posh even when she goes to the beach,” commented Tara, in a critical tone. “I think it’s great to see girls dress so nicely,” I replied. “I like girls to look attractive. Elizabeth looks great.” “Hello, Roy,” Elizabeth greeted me with a beaming smile, gold-rimmed glasses gleaming in the sun, as she climbed into the back of the car. “Thank you so much for inviting me. I hadn’t really anywhere to go today, except the park. My dad says it’s far too busy to go anywhere by car.” I was soon to understand the feeling. We set off, and I soon found out what the overcrowded English roads are like at sunny weekends where everybody in the country, it seems, is determined to overload the system by going to the seaside. Fortunately we had some traffic lights to help us on to the main road, but the traffic was already at a crawl. I needed all my concentration as I joined the queue, but at least our slow speed and the stops and starts meant I was able to check the map at times and was able to study the road signs more easily for the place names we needed. Wareham was the town we had to head for first, and I had to turn off the main road to get there. The turning was only a few kilometres from us, but it took over half an hour to get there. Then we had to crawl, bumper to bonnet, through Wareham and its nearby villages, before coming out into the countryside on our way to Studland. With a carload of impatient and frustrated girls, I drove slowly through the open countryside, stopping and starting all the time as half of Britain headed for the sea – only to find the other half already there and occupying all the parking places. The girls kept themselves occupied by eating their lunch and grumbling between mouthfuls. We finally reached the turnoff to Studland just before the ruins of Corfe Castle. Many other cars also turned off, so we were still crawling along on the narrow country road that was up and down all the way. We passed through a mixture of woodland, open countryside, hills and even some moorland. We had been travelling for more than two hours before we finally hit the coast just before the little village of Studland. Frank told me there were beaches either side of Studland, so we could go either way. However, I knew that the naturist beach was the furthest along the coast and the guidebook named the nearest car park, name beginning with K – I could not remember the name. But a short crawl after passing through the village I saw an entrance to the Knoll Car Park, and knew I had found it. There was disgruntled relief from the restless girls in the car as I drove in and joined another long queue waiting to pay at the entrance. The large car park was almost full and it took a few more annoying minutes before I could finally find a parking place. The girls burst out and immediately headed for the toilet, with Joy having threatened to burst for the last twenty minutes or so. That had worried me, as there was no place on the narrow country roads to stop, and there might have been a nasty mess in her panties and the back of the car. I had had plenty of time to formulate my plan. As I waited for the girls, I surveyed the densely populated textile beach in front of me. On the left was a very overcrowded shop with tables outside, overflowing with customers. To reach the naturist beach, we had to travel a kilometre or more along the textile beach to the left, and I didn’t think the girls would want to take such a journey right away, whatever excuse I used. A hasty look in that direction revealed the crowd on the beach thinning out about halfway down, and I could see tiny dotted figures, many with sun umbrellas, right at the far end. At that distance it was impossible to see if they were wearing anything. As I returned I found the girls looking for me, their impatience having led them to cut their usual extended communal toilet break as short as possible. I led them to the beach, where there was hardly room to move, although there was a long line of people weaving in and out of the crowd as they made their way along the rear of the beach. “Let’s go further up where there’s more room,” I urged them. “Keep together.” Carrying our belongings, we joined the queue weaving through the sand, now heading for the shoreline. Looking around, I saw a number of people changing, mainly children. Most of them wrapped towels around themselves and changed under those, a laborious process that made them look silly and undignified and took a long time. Except for just a few, mainly under five, most of the girls wore swimming costumes covering their tops, and there were a few toddlers swimming naked, and a few more wearing only their underwear. Much more reserved than on the continent, and rather what I expected. Joy gave a giggle. “Look at those women in her bras,” she said. She was pointing to a woman perhaps in their late twenties, sitting together on the beach wearing only shorts and white bras. “It doesn’t matter,” I reminded her. “Remember, there are many places in Europe where people go naked on the beach and nobody minds.” “You can also sunbathe in your bra, Joy,” teased Tara provocatively, which started a bit of silly talk about bras. After about five minutes of walking, the beach gradually became less crowded, and immediately Tara and Joy wanted to stop and make our base. “Very soon this part of the beach will fill up as well,” I told them. “I vote we go as far as we can down to the other end, because the further we go the more space we’ll still have later on.” “There are lots of people there already,” protested Tara, looking down the beach. “Yes, but most people will stop before they get that far,” I told them. Reluctantly they kept following me. We had gone about halfway towards the naturist area when the beach space improved enough for the girls to insist there was enough room for us now. My further persuasion did not move them, but I had expected that, as a temporary measure. The girls did not want to get too close to the file of moving people, which was now by the water’s edge, so they chose a spot by the sand dunes at the rear of the beach, maybe 40 metres from the water. “Now we get changed,” Suzanne told me, with a shy smile. “We’ve got dresses, but you can get changed under a towel, Roy.” “I’m not changing under a towel, it looks so silly,” I said, pulling my swimming costume out of my bag. Uncertain of what would happen there, I had taken the precaution of wearing my longest shirt that day, in case my changing caused a problem. So I just pulled down my shorts and underpants and put on my costume under my shirt, which was almost long enough to cover me. “Roy, people might see your bottom,” Joy informed me with glee from behind, but I’m sure there wouldn’t be much showing. I had my penis pretty well covered at the front, but felt that as long as I had a shirt on, the tolerant English wouldn’t really object if I did somehow reveal anything. The girls were a little shy about changing, despite the cover of their dresses. Elizabeth had no problem, though, revealing little white cotton panties as she pulled them down. Tara and Joy hesitated before changing, looked at each other, smiled and whispered for a moment, then stood facing each other. “This is what we do at school, Roy,” Tara explained with a self-conscious grin. They faced each other, palms out, and then went into one of their chants, patting each other’s hands, clapping their own and doing the actions as they did so. There were about four verses and the chorus went, in silly squeaky voices: “We’re at the seaside;” (claps) “we’re at the seaside;” (claps) “splish, splash” (rapid pedalling of the feet) “quick flash;” (a cursory flick at the front of their dresses) “we’re in the sea!” (more pedalling, then an abrupt start with hands holding skirts tightly around thighs). They finished in a burst of giggles and turned to me for approval. I complimented them and then asked, pretending not to understand, “What’s that ‘quick flash’ business?” They giggled again. Then Tara said, “You’re supposed to – er – just pull your skirt up and flash your panties.” They dissolved into more embarrassed giggles. “Well, I didn’t see any flash there,” I grinned, and they giggled some more. Elizabeth was just finishing changing, and I caught a glimpse of two slightly protruding little nipples as she slipped on her shoulder straps. The other girls took out their swimming costumes and gave an embarrassed giggle or two in my direction. To take off the pressure, I asked Elizabeth a few questions. I noticed they were all very careful to pull their costumes well up underneath at the front before removing their shirts, so as not to reveal their breasts, which in two cases were still non-existent. We went for a splash in the sea, but didn’t stay in long as the water was very cold. Anyway, it was as well to get the girls’ costumes wet, so as not to raise eyebrows if they went home after a swim with dry costumes. The weather would heat up some more as the temperature was expected to reach the high twenties, but there was not too much hope for the water. It was bitterly cold to a guy used to the warm Mediterranean, and even the girls did not last too long. The girls had brought a beach ball and some of us played with that, while others dug in the sand. Our area of the beach was rapidly filling up now, and I wondered about persuading the girls to move on. My problem was solved for me by Joy. I was helping her dig a hole in the sand when she looked up and said, “Ah, I wish we could have an ice-cream. I’m hot.” I followed her eyes and saw a textile family walking past us, parents in front and two small boys behind, all licking ice-cream cones. They had come from the naturist beach area. Reacting quickly, I jumped up and caught them immediately. “Hey, where did you get the ice-creams from?” I asked the boys. The older one turned and pointed. “Over there,” he said. “There’s a big caravan that sells ice-creams.” I looked towards the naturist beach. We were still too far away to see whether the people over there were naked or not, and I couldn’t identify a caravan either. “What did he say?” asked Joy. “There’s a caravan up the beach that sells them,” I answered. “May we go and get one? Please?” she begged. “All right, if everybody agrees,” I answered, trying to sound as casual as possible. “But I thought you ate most of your lunch in the car?” “Yes, but that was ages ago,” said Joy, trotting over to the others and making her suggestion. My heart fluttered as general approval was shown. “I can’t see the caravan,” said Tara. “Should we go back to the shop?” “You saw how busy the shop was,” I replied. “And it’s probably just as quick to go to the caravan, if not quicker.” We picked up the bags – or rather I did, most of them – and set off down the beach again, joining in the public trail next to the water. It was a long walk, but the lure of the ice-creams spurred them on. Looking ahead, I could see the figures on the naturist beach gradually taking shape and wondered how long it would take the girls to notice. Joy was the first to notice. I could see a puzzled look in her face as she stared forward. Then she turned to me and said, with a frown, “Roy, those people up in front. They look – sort of – funny?” I pretended to stare down the beach. The others were already staring. Then Suzanne burst out, “They’re – I don’t think they’re wearing swimming costumes. Roy, are they – naked?” Tara and Joy squealed and giggled. I kept staring, and finally said, “It looks a bit like it.” “Is it a naturist beach?” asked Elizabeth, showing no particular surprise. “It looks like it may be,” I replied. I stopped, and the girls pulled up too, surprised. “Well, I’m sorry about that, everybody. We’d better go back to the shop after all.” There were load moans of surprise and protest from the girls. “It’s too far to go back!” Tara wailed. “We don’t mind a naturist beach,” argued Joy. “I’ve been to a naturist beach before,” put in Elizabeth. “Have you? When was that?” I asked her. “We went on holiday to Spain last year, and we went to a naturist beach there,” she answered. “It was kind of scary at first, but when I got used to it, it was fun. I didn’t know there was a naturist beach here.” “That’s good, but the others haven’t been to one before,” I said. “They’ll feel bad about it, so we’d better not go there.” “We don’t mind,” shouted out Joy, her face beaming with curiosity and excitement. “You’ll be too scared to take your swimming costume off out of doors, though,” I countered. Now Joy did look shocked. “We don’t have to take them off,” she protested. “Look, there are other people there wearing their swimming costumes.” That was an unfortunate weakness in my argument, but at least I had the power to stop them from going any further if necessary. I answered as best I could, “Well, you’re not naturists, and in my country it’s bad manners to go on a naturist beach unless you’re going to go naked. And I know you’d be too scared to do that.” “I’m not,” said Elizabeth. “Are you a naturist, Roy?” I nodded. “Yes, but I’m not going to force anybody else to go naked when they’re too shy,” I answered. “I – don’t really mind,” came Suzanne’s quiet voice unexpectedly. “I’m not going to go naked!” giggled Tara, and Joy gave her firm agreement. “But let’s go anyway.” Surprisingly, it was the two youngest who were the most resistant to the idea of nudity, probably partly because of me. I suspected Suzanne’s silence meant that she might be persuaded. “No, we must go back,” I told them. “We’re not going on the beach when some of you don’t want to go naked.” “Let’s carry on anyway, and we’ll think about it,” argued Tara, a bit too glibly. “We’ll go back if we decide not to.” “All right, then,” I agreed, picking up the bags again, and we set off. Tara and Joy, almost the same size but very different in looks, led the way, finding new energy from somewhere. They were staring eagerly ahead with obvious curiosity, shuffling through the sand quickly, and so to a lesser extent was Suzanne. Elizabeth, walking by my side, seemed largely unaffected. Slowly the figures on the beach ahead took shape as we moved nearer. They were clearly naked, mostly adults in pairs rather than family groups, but there were some children playing in the sand and the sea. I could now see a white caravan, presumably the ice-cream one, quite some way further down the beach. I cunningly waited until it was almost, but not quite, possible to see details on the naked bodies in front. Then I stopped and called to the girls in front, “Right, stop, everybody. We need to talk about what we’re going to do.” Tara and Joy reluctantly drew to a halt. “Right, what are we going to do?” I asked. “Shall we go on, and go naked? Who wants to?” Elizabeth raised her hand. Suzanne slowly raised hers and said, although with reluctance, “I will.” Tara and Joy both looked wary and said nothing. “Oh, come on, you two,” Suzanne urged them. “If I can do it, you can. We don’t need to let anyone else see us.” “Do we have to undress here?” whispered Tara nervously. We were of course still in the textile area. “No, I think we can walk over to a place to ourselves to use as a base,” I said. “Then we can put our stuff down, undress, and fetch the ice-creams.” “Are you going to – do it as well, Roy?” asked Joy hesitantly. “Of course,” I answered. “I do this every week at home. In the pool, at our naturist club, sometimes on the beach. I’d love to do it here, but I can’t do it when some of you don’t want to.” “It’s naughty,” whispered Joy, looking slightly shocked. “Well, this is a place you can be as naughty as you like, and it’s quite all right,” I grinned. “All right, we’ll do it,” burst out Tara. “Won’t we, Joy?” Joy gulped and nodded, looking very anxious. We carried on, with the naked figures in front of us becoming clearer. The girls were staring at their first naked man, a middle-aged man marching down to the sea by himself with his penis dangling in front of him. Other people, mainly in pairs, sat on the sand and some, especially children, swam or paddled in the sea. The girls put their hands to their mouths, with Tara and Joy in particular giggling with embarrassment. We passed a notice warning us that there were naturists ahead, a sort of government health warning, I suppose. I could see Tara and Joy staring around with wide eyes, with a bit of fear in them at the thought of being in that same state themselves. Ahead of us were two boys about their own age, kicking a ball around. “Right, let’s cut up here now,” I said, leading the way from the edge of the sea up towards the back of the beach. There were murmurs of dismay from the two girls ahead. “Not yet, let’s – go a bit further,” suggested Joy. I grinned at her. “You just want to have a closer look at those boys in front, don’t you?” I smiled. They both blushed a little and denied it all too quickly. “Listen, there’s nothing wrong with being curious,” I told them. “But it wouldn’t be good manners to go near them while we’re still wearing costumes, even if others do. When we’ve taken our costumes off, that’s fine – we can go down and play with them.” “But some of the children here – are wearing swimming costumes,” protested Tara. Unfortunately she was correct. “That’s very bad beach manners, then,” I countered. “There are two main rules.” I didn’t tell them where they came from. “The first is no staring, giggling or talking about other people naked. The second is you keep away from people wearing less than you are. If we’re using this beach, then we obey the rules, even if others don’t.” I shepherded the reluctant girls up the beach, but past the caravan. “What about the ice-creams?” asked Tara. “We need to find somewhere for a base first,” I said. “Then we can go for them.” “I don’t want to go there – without my costume,” protested Suzanne, with support from the younger ones. “There are people there with costumes on still. Can’t we get the ice-creams first?” “Tell you what, when we’ve undressed I’ll go and get the ice-creams and bring them back to you,” I said. Amid a nervous silence, I led the way to the rear of the beach, where there was a steep upward slope to the moorland behind, separated from it by tall dunes interspersed with long grass. As the beach began to slope upwards, I put down the bags in the largest open space I could find, away from other people. On one side was a young couple of lovers, on the other two more elderly people, all more than 20 metres away and taking no notice of us. The younger ones were particularly wrapped up in each other. “Is this all right?” I asked. Elizabeth agreed, while the others were silent, unable to make any better suggestions to postpone the evil moment. Then I pulled down my swimming costume, able at last to enjoy the sheer joy of exposing myself to the beautiful warm sun. “At last, I’ve missed this,” I said. Then I reached down into a bag for my money, conscious of three pairs of curious eyes checking out my penis again. “Right, I’ll go and get the ice-creams. What sort do you want?” I took hesitant orders and then set off. Immediately I heard Elizabeth behind me call out, “Wait, I’ll come too.” I turned to see her slipping down her costume and stepping out of it. Her slim white body shone in the sunlight. Her nipples were slightly swollen and her stomach flat as it sloped down to her white loins. Her smooth little vagina between her legs was most precious of all. With Elizabeth by my side, I set off for the caravan, about 60 or 70 metres away. I took great care not to look back, sure that the girls would be watching me. If I so much as glanced round before my return, I might lose all their trust. We joined the queue of people both naked and textile, and waited there for about five minutes. I was burning to know what was going on back at our base but deliberately did not look back. Elizabeth was a quiet interesting talker, and pleased to be back on a naturist beach. She seemed quite unselfconscious as she stood there with her smooth slim white body gratefully exposed to the warm sun. “I don’t know how long we’ll be staying,” I told her. “The other girls are pretty nervous about it. I think they just want to have a look at a naked boy and then they’ll want to go.” “I’ll try and talk to them,” she said. “Maybe if we go off and – swim in the sea or play in the sand or something – maybe they’ll want to join us.” Finally I bought the ice-creams, gave two to Elizabeth and took three myself before turning to make my way back to the other three girls. They were sitting in a silent, tense cocoon, swimming costumes off but with their towels placed strategically over their bodies. I did not comment on that, but just handed out the ice-creams with a smile. Elizabeth did say brightly, “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. I remember I felt very nervous the first time.” “We might see somebody we know,” whispered Jessie with a shudder. “How many naturists do you know?” I grinned in reply. “None – that we know,” replied Serena. “But some of them may be naturists in secret.” “If they keep it secret, they will be even more scared than you if they see you, and they’ll make themselves scarce pretty quickly,” I told her. I sat down next to Elizabeth, on the far side of the other girls, so as to keep their curiosity. There was a tense atmosphere as we ate our ice-creams, the girls under the towels very quiet, but with curious eyes scanning the beach, fascinated by the array of naked bodies. Not too many were children, although a couple of naked girls just beginning puberty were flying kites further down the beach. Apart from Elizabeth, the girls were noticeably slow eating their ice-creams, which suited me. Their nervous eyes constantly darted around the beach, settling most often on the odd naked boy, but none came anywhere near us. Elizabeth continued to talk naturally, and I hoped it was making the others feel more at home. Elizabeth finished her ice-cream first, and I was not far behind. The moment I had finished, she sprang to her feet. “Come on, Roy, let’s go in the sea again,” she urged me. “Suzanne, come as soon as you finish.” She gave me a tug on the arm and went scampering down the beach. “Elizabeth, wait!” Suzanne called after her, but she was gone. I rose to my feet as well. “See you down there,” I told the girls as I made to follow Elizabeth. “No, Roy!” Suzanne called me pleadingly. “We – we’re not really used to this. Please don’t leave us.” “You’ve nearly finished,” I replied. “You’ll be all right, then you can join us.” “Some boys might – bother us,” Tara excused herself, reaching for her discarded swimming costume while clutching her towel with the other hand to keep her front well covered. “That won’t happen on a naturist beach,” I told them. “You can wear your costumes again if you want, but if you do you must stay there till the rest of us get back.” I said this quite firmly. “I’m going with Elizabeth for a while because she’s our guest. So you can either come or stay.” Turning my back hard-heartedly on them and their pleas, I ran towards the sea. I spent several minutes having fun with Elizabeth while at the same time trying to keep out of that cold sea. It didn’t seem to bother Elizabeth, who laughed and skipped as the little waves splashed her body, and then waded further out to swim near some adults. That meant I had to keep facing her most of the time, rather than check on events back at our base. Once or twice, though, I did wade in up to my thighs and quickly turned back to the shallow water. There was no movement in the tight little group of three I had left behind. Then, as I watched Elizabeth swum back towards me, she called out, “They’re coming now.” My heart beat faster, but I didn’t want to reveal my interest. Again I did my trick of wading towards her and then turning back. I kept my head down, but snatched a glimpse of three figures, wrapped in towels, moving down the beach towards us in a nervous huddle. “Doesn’t look as if they’re going to join us,” I muttered to Elizabeth in disappointment when she drew up alongside me. I splashed her gently with water, and she squealed and splashed me back. “Hi!” Elizabeth waved to the girls a minute or so later, and only then did I turn and look at them. They still had towels wrapped around them, leaving only their shoulders bare. The towels were not very big, so any further up would have exposed them at the bottom. “Roy, we’ve had enough here,” pleaded Tara. “Let’s go now.” “Let me talk to them,” suggested Elizabeth brightly, splashing over towards them. She chatted earnestly with them for a minute or so, and I sensed an easing of tension somehow. Then she said, “Come, then,” and splashed out into the sea again. Giggling, the other girls followed her cautiously, wading in until the water level reached their shins and then their knees. Glancing at me with some amused embarrassment, they moved in further until the water lapped up their thighs. A wave lapped up against them, and I caught a glimpse of Joy’s white bottom as she instinctively lifted her towel to keep it dry. Elizabeth came up behind them and grasped hold of their towels. Then she shouted, “Go!” and raised the towels high above her head and out of the water. At the same moment the three girls each emitted a piercing scream and plunged forward into the water. I could see three white bottoms for a moment, and then they were swimming and kicking their way into deeper water, still shrieking, no doubt partly from the cold and no doubt also to hide their embarrassment. “Well done,” I complimented Elizabeth, collecting the towels from her and thankfully wading out of the icy water. I placed them about ten metres from the water’s edge and sat down to watch. Now all the girls were in, they didn’t need my frozen body to accompany them. The girls kept for a while to the deeper water where it came up to their waists and their most secret places were covered. They no longer seemed concerned about their bare chests. They chased each other, and on several occasions Elizabeth would come splashing into the shallower water and the other girls would chase her there. I was not close enough to see any detail, though, but I could wait my time. I had seen them before, but these circumstances were particularly heart-warming. I had been sitting there a few minutes enjoying the scenery when I heard a rather hesitant voice behind me say, “Hello.” I turned, to see a small boy standing there. “Hello,” I responded with a smile, looking at him. He was very freckled all over his body, with dark sandy hair and a rather pointed face that reminded me of a ferret. His little penis was perhaps slightly larger than Scott’s, thin in the middle but rather stubby at the end, his foreskin ending abruptly rather than tapering over as Scott’s does. His name was Kevin and he was nine. When I asked him whom he came with, he indicated his family down the beach, not too far from us. They had only just come, so we had not passed them on our way in. I could just make out two naked parents settling down to sunbathe, and one older girl in a green and yellow two-piece costume lying on her front next to them. “That’s my sister Catherine,” he told me. “She’s 13, and she’s too shy to be a naturist these days.” I immediately felt no desire to get to know Catherine. I have no time for people who turn up on naturist beaches and keep their costumes on, and there were rather too many of that sort on this beach. I can understand it the first time, as with the three girls I was staying with, but after that I feel they should either strip off or stay away. Kevin seemed a nice boy, quite chatty as he sat next to me on the sand, and I wondered how the girls would take to him in their present unaccustomed state, given that they were also curious to see boys naked as well. A few glances told me that they had spotted him and were also eyeing us out, no doubt wondering what to do. I didn’t feel Elizabeth would be bothered. “I wish we’d brought our ball,” Kevin said to me. “But my mum forgot to pack it.” Always mum’s fault! But I said, “We have a beach ball. Shall we play with that?” Kevin was keen, so the two of us walked over to our base to collect the beach ball. I thought it might be best to stay up there to play, so the girls had chance to get out of the sea in a degree of privacy when they were ready. We kicked it around together and had a good time, while I kept my eye on events in the sea. Very quickly the girls began to move out, prompted no doubt by the cold. I saw the three sisters scamper for their towels and wrap themselves up tightly in them. Then they stared in our direction, keen to see what we were doing. They spent several minutes there, no doubt planning their next move, but with Elizabeth, the only one without a towel, no doubt adding her sensible ideas. I kept flashing glances towards them, and finally they started moving up the beach towards us, three of them wrapped tightly in towels again. Well, we would just have to see how things went. Elizabeth was naturally the first to arrive. Unselfconsciously naked, she greeted the boy with a friendly “Hi!” and he responded briefly without showing any undue awareness of her body. “Could we try catching it?” she asked. “I’m not much good at kicking.” “Let’s do that,” I agreed as the other girls shuffled closer, no doubt keen to check out Kevin’s penis. I picked up the ball and tossed it to Elizabeth, who moved back to find her space and then tossed it to Kevin. When the ball next came to Elizabeth, she playfully tossed it at the other girls, shouting, “Catch, catch!” Still clutching their towels, the three backed away, and the ball bounced off Tara’s arm and away past them. “Come and play too,” Elizabeth urged them, as they backed away slightly, uncertain how to respond. Then Suzanne bravely said, “I’ll fetch it.” Tossing off her towel, she scampered after the ball and bent to pick it up, her thin white bottom sticking out and the bottommost part of her vagina momentarily visible between her legs. Then she tossed it to Tara, calling out, “Catch it, Tara.” Tara tried to catch it but dropped it, one end of her towel flying off in the process and giving a view of her bare body all down one side. She let it go, stepping forward to retrieve the ball and letting the rest of her towel slide off. “Joy!” she called out, giggling, tossing the ball to her in turn. Joy was better prepared, turning her back, ducking and clutching her towel. The ball went wide of her, but Tara was quickly on to her. “Come on, Joy, towel off now,” she laughed, tugging at the towel. Suzanne quickly jumped in to help. Joy squealed and rolled on the ground. I wondered momentarily whether to stop them, but Joy did not sound too serious now. Laughing in glee, Suzanne and Tara hauled the towel off Joy, who lay on the ground kicking at them and pretending to protest, her vagina clearly visible between her legs, standing out on the loose pink skin underneath. Elizabeth was fetching the ball and tossed it to Suzanne, who wasn’t ready for it. But they all came into the game now, with the three sisters no doubt feeling a little strange but finally willing to be naked and enjoy it. Moments later we were all in a circle, all naked, tossing the ball around at random and enjoying it. Only a couple of minutes later I saw the eyes of Suzanne and Joy, opposite me, stray behind my head with a little apprehension. I turned round to find Kevin’s sister Catherine approaching us shyly, still wearing her two-piece costume. She looked very much like Kevin, and no oil painting for a girl, with her freckled, pointed face, but she had nice hair, a dark sandy-brown like her brother’s, falling back over her shoulders. She smiled at me rather nervously and said, “Hello. May I – join in?” Her wearing of a swimming costume on a naturist beach annoyed me. She looked likely to have an attractive body underneath it. I had also been telling the girls about behaviour on a naturist beach, so I had a genuine reason for not welcoming her either. I broke away from the group momentarily and replied to her, “Look, this is a naturist beach and these girls are here for the first time. If you’re not a naturist, that’s fine, but I don’t think it would be good for you to join people who are naturists. Okay?” Catherine looked crestfallen and I felt a twinge of pity. She turned her back and walked away, and at the same moment the beach ball hit me on the back of the head, together with a burst of laughter from Tara. “What did you tell her?” asked Suzanne, as the game continued. Kevin also looked most interested. “I just reminded her of the rules I told you about,” I replied. “If she wants to keep her costume on, that’s fine, but she should keep to herself.” “She used to be a naturist,” put in Kevin. “But then her boobs started to grow and she got all shy.” He shrugged as if he couldn’t understand the strange ways of sisters. We continued to play, with a great deal of laughter coming from Tara and Joy, although often there was no reason for it. I realised that this was just their way of coping with a situation they found difficult. They hardly ever managed to catch the ball cleanly, mainly because their eyes for much of the time were on Kevin’s penis, when they were not on mine. Kevin seemed quite unaware of their interest, and he certainly showed no interest in the naked girls. This was the first time I had seen the girls naked together. Their breasts had scarcely developed. Suzanne had two little pyramids that could not be seen unless you were within speaking distance of her, Tara’s nipples were a little larger than a boy’s would be, while Joy’s chest showed no development at all. Suzanne had a tight, smooth vagina, with no hairs visible unless you got close, while Tara’s was rather more rounded and almost hidden between her legs. Joy actually seemed to have the longest vagina of the three, as it curved smoothly upwards to finish gently rounded at the top. It was a sight of bliss. Suddenly it occurred to me that if I wanted these lovely bodies to remain in their pristine state for the rest of the day, I had better take immediate action. Sunburn in unusual places could cause embarrassment, as well as questions back home. In all the excitement we had forgotten. “Hey, we’d better put some sun cream on,” I said when I next had the ball. The girls squealed with some embarrassment. “It would be so uncomfortable if our bottoms were burnt and we couldn’t sit down,” giggled Tara as they gathered round the bag for me to take out the cream. “And it would be even worse if we were burnt – down here – and couldn’t wee either,” snickered Joy, in a tone so quiet I’m sure I wasn’t meant to hear it. Soon we were all spreading cream on our bodies, apart from Kevin, who had already had his dose. He was sitting on the ground facing me, knees up, talking now and then as he scraped the sand into a pile under his legs. His little penis was perched on top of his scrotum, and every now and then he brushed some sand off it. The girls still showed interest, but he was quite oblivious to it. I sat opposite him, rubbing cream into my skin. “Please do my back, Roy,” asked Joy, coming and sitting between my legs and leaning forward. I had little doubt this was at least partly a ploy to get a closer view of Kevin’s penis, as she folded her legs rather uncomfortably across to one side so that he would not be able to see her vagina. He took no interest whatever in that delightful piece of scenery, but instead began talking to Joy, as the girl nearest his own age. Joy went quite red and mumbled her answers, too shy to look him in the face. “Here comes Catherine again,” said Suzanne from one side of me. From the tone of her voice, I gathered Catherine was still not naked. This was partly true. I glanced up to see her approaching self-consciously and hesitantly, stopping about five metres away. She had taken her top off, but was still wearing her briefs. She had her arms folded tightly to reveal her embarrassment, but I could see her well-rounded breasts with large areolas and nipples. I shook my head slightly, but she ventured a bit closer and asked, “May I – join in a bit now?” I didn’t know what she meant by ‘a bit’, but it was obvious she knew she hadn’t fulfilled the qualifications. Again I stepped away from the group and said as kindly as I could, “Look, Catherine, you’re making things awkward for us. If we were all dressed the same, we’d be happy for you to join us, but I’m sure you know that there are certain rules that most people go by in naturist places. You have the right to stay dressed as much as you like, but I don’t think you can expect to play with naturists on the same level. Look, when we get dressed at the end of the day we’ll come and talk to you, okay?” Catherine went quite red and didn’t meet my eyes. I felt bad as she nodded her head silently and turned to walk away. Her parents were back at her base, lying on their backs naked and soaking in the sun. I wondered if Catherine would try again . . . (To be continued) THE ENGLISH EXPERIENCE (CHAPTER 8) “I feel sorry for Catherine,” said Elizabeth. “She can’t help being shy.” “Maybe, but we do need to keep some rules for naturists,” I replied. “If we have clothed people around, for whatever reason, we’ll get others with clothes on who just want to come and stare.” “I don’t want that!” stated Tara very firmly. Sun cream on, we began to play with the ball again. Kevin wanted to kick it around, though, and he began to get rather bored. While the girls were passing the ball around and sometimes dropping it, he tried to do handstands, rather badly, half-squatting, putting his hands down and trying to kick his legs up. Time for my party trick. “Hey, Kevin, this is how you do it,” I grinned. Standing on my hands was one trick I had practised for years. I raised my arms and one knee, kicked off with the other one and lightly stood on my hands. I held the position with my legs straight, and then spread them as wide as I could, as if doing the splits. I heard girls giggling, no doubt at the new position of my penis, and then I gently came down again. Kevin look impressed – in fact, they all did. “Gee, I can’t do that!” he exclaimed, making another half-hearted attempt but not even getting his legs up to the vertical. “Let me teach you,” I offered, showing him the starting position and how to spring off one leg and push himself up with the other knee. He tried it, but still didn’t manage to get up properly. “I’ll help you to start with,” I offered. I stood behind him and, when he kicked his legs up, I stepped forward, grabbed them and held them aloft. Below my eyes was the rounded pink patch of loose skin at the bottom of his scrotum, so like a girl’s in the same place, and his small penis stuck towards me. The younger girls giggled again. “Now do the splits,” suggested Joy mischievously. Kevin obediently spread his legs, and the pink area of loose skin expanded to form a V shape, with his testicles standing out below and penis flopping out more than ever. I heard some muffled sniggers as Kevin, face red with his unusual position, freed his legs and tumbled to the ground. “Hey, that was good!” he grinned, staggering to his feet and unaware that he had been under curious scrutiny. “Let’s try it again.” Obligingly I helped him. “I want to try that,” said Elizabeth enthusiastically. “Suzanne, will you hold my legs, please?” The two girls moved away. As I held Kevin’s legs, I saw Elizabeth kicking her legs up gracefully and Suzanne catching them. Elizabeth’s body was stretched taut at the front, her vagina stretching smooth and tight as Suzanne caught her legs with some difficulty. Then she spread them wide, and from my position I caught a glimpse of a deep, wide black crack running under her legs with pink skin on either side. Tara and Joy stayed with me, openly staring at Kevin’s penis while he was upside down, but refrained from giggling audibly after I glared at them. After several such displays, their curiosity eased enough for Tara to say, “Come on, Joy, let’s try that.” We were now split into three pairs, taking it in turns to do handstands, although I only occasionally demonstrated my skill to Kevin. Of course he was too small to hold my legs and I had no need for him to do so anyway. After a couple of minutes, as I held Kevin gently upside down, I heard Tara giggle as Joy did the splits. Positioned rather infuriatingly as they were, I could only see Joy’s white bottom and the vagina line between her legs as she split and then slumped to the ground. “What’s so funny?” Joy demanded, sitting up. “Oh, Joy, when you did the splits I could see your clitty,” Tara told her, still giggling and shooting me a glance to see if I was listening. I had already shifted my gaze back to Kevin. Joy sniggered, and replied, “Now it’s your turn.” I let Kevin to the ground as Tara swung her legs up. Joy caught them and held them straight. “Now do the splits,” Joy ordered, and Tara immediately spread her legs. Again I could only get a view from the rear, but Joy obviously had something better, as she stared quite unashamedly down her sister’s vagina and giggled with enjoyment. “Did you see mine?” Tara asked eagerly as she let herself down to the ground. Joy nodded. “Now it’s my turn again,” she said, and again they reversed roles. On the other side of me, Suzanne and Elizabeth were continuing their handstands in more orthodox manner. Every now and then I could catch a glimpse of a black slit between their legs, with a slither of pink or white inside. I tried hard to keep my mind on Kevin, afraid my penis might misbehave – already it was feeling restive. But I desperately hoped that soon we might be able to swap partners . . . Tara and Joy had a couple more turns, chattering away excitedly about what they could see without a thought that they might be overheard. Kevin was too involved in his own activities to listen in, and slowly he was getting better. Then Joy said cunningly, “Let’s do it with Suzanne now.” They both walked over to where Suzanne was holding Elizabeth, and Joy said, “Suzanne, do a handstand with us and we’ll both catch you.” Unsuspectingly Suzanne turned her back to them and swung her legs up hard. Tara and Joy each stepped forward to grab a leg. This time I could see Suzanne’s smooth little vagina perfectly, and was not distracted by Kevin, who was sitting on the ground taking a breather. Then she did the splits. I was desperately conscious of my expanding penis as her vagina opened at the top, and I could see, upside down, a glimpse of the white of her clitoris and a bud-shaped area of moist dark pink flesh inside as the labia parted. Tara and Joy both emitted a muffled squeal of laughter, and Suzanne swung herself to the ground. “What’s so funny?” she demanded, obviously aware that she had been the victim of some trick or other. “Suzanne, when you did the splits we could see your clitty,” giggled Joy, nudging Tara, and they both laughed again. “Stop it, that’s not funny,” complained Suzanne, looking embarrassed and shooting me a nervous glance. I was too enthralled to switch my gaze in time, and thought I had better intervene. “Hey, are you two being rude?” I demanded of Tara and Joy. Tara looked slightly guilty, but Joy replied primly, “You did say we could be as naughty as we liked here.” “Not if Suzanne or anybody else doesn’t like it,” I replied. “It doesn’t really matter,” Suzanne broke in, looking slightly sheepish but accepting the situation. “We do that sort of thing together at times. Joy, you do a handstand with Roy now.” Neatly she passed the buck, so to speak. Joy giggled and shook her head, as Kevin asked, “What’s this about?” The girls giggled and looked embarrassed, while I answered, “Just a game they play at home. Hey, Kevin, you’re getting pretty good now.” “Yes, I’ll go show my mum,” he enthused, turning his back and scooting off over the sand to his family. “Roy, show us again how you do it,” Joy urged me, passing the buck on to me now. I decided the buck stopped with me. Turning my back on the girls, so they could feast their eyes on my penis, now just about within the boundaries of normality, to their hearts’ content, I dutifully stood on my hands, then did the splits, displaying my genitals for their benefit. Sure enough, there were a few giggles. “Now let us hold your legs,” suggested Joy. “Like we did to Suzanne.” “Roy doesn’t need anybody holding his legs,” Suzanne responded, sounding suspicious. “It’s all right – they can hold me if they want,” I said, standing on my hands again. I felt two pairs of hands grasp my thighs, right at the top, as Tara and Joy grabbed me. One pair, though, was not quite accurate enough, and I felt some fingers grasping my penis firmly for a moment before letting go and removing themselves to my leg. “Joy!” came Suzanne’s voice in shocked reproof. “Sorry, my hand slipped,” mumbled Joy, obviously lying. “I mean – I – I didn’t mean to.” I did the splits, making the girls move apart, and then lowered myself to the ground. Joy, her face red, was looking both guilty and satisfied. “Come on, Joy, do it with Roy now,” Suzanne urged, perhaps wanting to give me the chance of getting my own back. Tara joined in the urging, doubtless to reduce the possibility of being suggested as a substitute. “What’s all this about?” I asked, playing the innocent. “Joy can do it with whoever she likes.” “I don’t mind,” said Suzanne, smiling shyly. Turning her back to me, she swung her legs up and I caught them stepping forward so her feet were under my chin. I held them there where I could not see down. “Now the splits,” urged Joy with glee. As Suzanne spread her legs wide, just for a moment before letting her body collapse, I looked towards Kevin showing his unenthusiastic mother his skills, making it obvious to the girls that I wasn’t interested in looking downwards. I resisted strong temptation for the long-term good. “My turn now,” smiled Elizabeth, and she too swung her legs up gracefully for me to catch. She had no inhibitions about doing the splits with me, and I chafed inside as again I forced my eyes elsewhere, aware that the younger girls were watching me carefully. “Come on, Joy,” urged Tara strongly. “I will if you will,” said Joy. When Tara agreed, Joy came to swing her legs up, stayed with me holding her for a few seconds, but then swung down again without doing the splits. “Hey, Joy, that’s cheating – you’re meant to do the splits,” Tara scolded her. “You don’t have to,” retorted Joy innocently. Still playing my role of uninterested helper, I supported her, “Nobody has to do the splits. She can just do it the way she likes.” “Well, I’m not doing it either, then,” retorted Tara. Presumably she was just referring to the splits, as she swung her legs up in a handstand for me to catch her, but did not open them before going down again. “Hey, Catherine’s taken her costume off!” Joy suddenly exclaimed, pointing. Instinctively my head jerked round, as did the other girls’, before I realised it might be fatal to have Catherine see us all whip round and stare at her in her birthday suit. At first I couldn’t see her. But then I followed Joy’s finger. Catherine and Kevin were running, not towards us, but down to the sea, naked. Presumably Catherine wanted to gain some confidence before confronting us naked. Her white bottom protruded noticeably, and perhaps this was part of the reason for her shyness. I watched their flashing legs as they headed for the water. “She’s got a big bottom,” noted Tara with a giggle. “You know, one rule of being a naturist is never to make any comments about somebody else’s body,” I told them. “Even if somebody looks really peculiar, if they have a fat ugly penis” (the younger girls giggled) “or sagging breasts or – or a bright red vagina” (more giggles) “then it’s very bad manners to say anything. These things don’t matter at all.” “Kevin has quite an ugly penis,” Joy put in brightly. “But I quite like it.” She giggled naughtily. “I didn’t notice anything,” I retorted. “But even if I did, I would never say anything to him or to anybody else. So, Joy, it’s bad manners even to say things like that to other people. I never do it myself, and I won’t let anybody else.” Here I was, shamelessly self-advertising in the hope of building their trust in me. By now Catherine and Kevin were in the sea, and we were only just able to identify them. “Shall we join them?” suggested Elizabeth. “Maybe not just yet,” I replied. “I think Catherine is still shy and she isn’t ready to meet us yet. They’ll come when they’re ready.” “She’s just shy of meeting *you*,” observed Tara. “She won’t mind us, but you’re a boy.” “Yes, I know,” I agreed. “It’s difficult for her, and people like you as well. I know you’re still a bit shy and feel people are looking at you and that sort of thing. It’s much easier for me, because I’ve been a naturist for so long it doesn’t bother me at all. Also, because you’re not used to it, you keep noticing other people’s bodies and having strange feelings about what you see. But don’t worry, because when you’ve been naturists for a while you just don’t notice any more.” “That’s how I felt when we were in Spain,” broke in Elizabeth. “But I don’t notice any more now, and it doesn’t bother me.” “Let’s do more handstands,” suggested Suzanne. “I’m getting better. Roy, can you catch my legs?” I caught her legs as she swung them up, but again restrained myself from looking downwards, knowing Tara and Joy were still watching me. Instead I glanced out to see again. Elizabeth came for a turn, and then Tara suggested to Joy that they continue by themselves. Suzanne had another turn with me, and I wondered if I dared glance down. Next time, if nobody else is watching, I thought. Then I heard her voice, rather strained due to her position, asking me, “Roy, is my body straight?” An invitation! I looked down. She still had her legs together, with her vagina just visible with its puff of hair at the top, while her body curved slightly towards me with her stomach bending outwards. “It’s fine,” I told her. At that she spread her legs and I was perfectly positioned. Her vagina lips parted and I could see a thin sliver of pink inside the slit, with the little white protrusion that was her clitoris clearly visible above, fastened to the top of her vagina. Between her legs was a wide dark pink area of loose skin, with the vagina running down the middle and a few longish hairs visible. I almost gasped and hoped my penis could stand it. It was only for a moment, as she quickly slid to the ground. I could sense that she knew what she had done, and had done it deliberately. Sometimes I have found that girls, in delicate positions but wanting to share something with me will deliberately talk to me to ensure I look their way, and I am sure this was what Suzanne had just done. There was a certain tension in her movements and the way she avoided looking at me when she stood up that gave it away. Then Elizabeth came for her turn and asked me before we started, “Please look and see if my body is straight enough.” Then she swung her legs up. I think she was merely borrowing the idea from Suzanne and was unaware of Suzanne’s real motives. I assured her that her body was correctly positioned, and then she opened her legs wide. The skin stretched between her legs, the loose skin, not as pink as Suzanne’s, contained her beauty, and her clitoris appeared clearly at the top of her vagina. I let her down, and then gasped to the girls, “Hang on a moment while I go to the toilet.” I ran over to the sand dunes at the rear of the beach and began to scramble up, just hoping that nobody, especially the girls, would notice that my penis was semi-erect, bouncing around badly out of control and ready to burst. At the top of the dune I found an open area of sand and grass where a number of people, mostly singles or young couples, were enjoying greater privacy than was available on the beach. I squatted by a patch of tall grass and let my penis burst – and it wasn’t urine that came out. I had to wait a couple of minutes before the implement began to return to its normal size, and then made my way back to the top of the dune. Looking down, I saw the girls continuing with their handstands. As Tara did hers, I saw Joy rest her sister’s legs against her shoulders and then tickle her between her legs as she did the splits. I heard a squeal from Tara, who collapsed in the sand. I scrambled down the dune, to hear Tara splutter out, in a mixture of giggles and indignation, “You tickled my tuzi, you rude girl!” They pretended to wrestle for a moment, and then Tara said, “Now it’s your turn.” I knew what would happen, and I’m sure Joy did as well. They were so absorbed that they didn’t see me. Joy spread her legs wide, strain marks and sinews visible on the skin at the bottom of her groin, and a double line clear at the top of her vagina to indicate the clitoris. “Kutchi kutchi kutchi!” burbled Tara, releasing one hand to tickle her right in the middle of the perineum between her legs. They both fell to the ground, laughing helplessly. I walked by on my way back to Suzanne and Elizabeth, who were giving each other turns, and suddenly they saw me and stuffed their hands in their mouths, looking very guilty. I’m not sure whether it was guilt about what I had seen them do, or shame about what I had actually seen. I thought a low-key approach would be best, as they were both treating it as fun rather than a case of indecent assault. “You naughty girls,” I grinned, winking at them, and then carried on to the older girls without taking any more notice. Elizabeth looked rather shocked. “Did you see what those two were doing?” she asked. I nodded. “Yes, but I think they’ll get over it more quickly if we ignore it,” I replied. A glance at Suzanne showed her looking uncomfortable, so I guessed this was another game they played at home together. Elizabeth did not seem too happy about that. She paused, and then said to Suzanne, “Let’s go for a swim in the sea again.” Suzanne nodded, so Elizabeth turned to me and said, “We can keep away from Catherine.” “Well, I’ll come too, and we’ll go not too far from them, so they can come and join us if they want,” I said. Suzanne called to her younger sisters and they decided to come too. We all scampered down towards the sea, Suzanne carrying the ball, and I led them to a spot about 30 metres away from the place where Catherine and Kevin were still splashing around. We plunged in, my body reacting to the cold. I only spent a minute or so in the frigid water before splashing back to the shallows, letting the waves come no higher than my thighs. Already the cold have shrivelled my testicles to a tiny bag clutching desperately to my body for warmth, and my penis to about half its normal size, almost frozen solid into a white spike sticking out almost horizontally. I wondered if Scott’s penis would disappear altogether in such hostile conditions. Kevin came splashing towards me, his shrunken penis wobbling as he ran. “Hey, Roy,” he called, loudly enough for anybody around to hear. “Catherine’s taken her costume off now and she wants to know if she can play.” Catherine was taking care to keep the water up to her waist, so I wasn’t sure whether to look towards her, smile and wave. I thought it perhaps safer to feign indifference, so I just nodded my head and turned towards the beach to fetch the ball, dropped there by Suzanne. “It’s all right, Catherine, you can come!” bellowed Kevin. I hurled the ball out towards the girls, noticing from the corner of my eye Catherine swimming slowly in our direction. Joy fielded it and tried to throw it back, but it only travelled halfway. Kevin swam for it and, with nobody else interested, got there first. He tossed it to me. “Come on, Roy, let’s keep the ball away from the girls!” he called. Provoked, the girls started to swim towards us, and I tossed it back to Kevin. He quickly returned it to me before they reached him, but Elizabeth called out, “No, that’s not fair because there are five of us and only two of them. Let’s have teams and play a game. Catherine, are you playing?” Catherine flushed slightly and nodded. She was keeping her nether regions below the waterline, and had her arms folded, not covering her breasts but close enough to show her self-consciousness. Since I was taking care to keep most of myself out of the water, we were about ten metres apart. “Let’s have the four of us against the three of them,” suggested Suzanne, indicating myself, Kevin and Catherine. “Roy’s the biggest, so that evens things up.” That seemed to suit everybody, so the game started, amid a great deal of shouting and squealing. I first hurled the ball to Catherine, aiming above her head and forcing her to reach high to try to catch it, exposing her protruding breasts. The ball bounced off her hands, and the pack of shrieking girls was quickly upon her. It was in the deeper water, so I kept out of it, and Catherine and Kevin had little chance against four. Most of the time the two of them were urging me to come and help while they struggled in vain against numerical (and vocal) superiority. I did make the occasional foray into deeper water when the ball was dropped or thrown badly, which happened quite often, and I thought I could get it. Then when I tried to carry it with me into shallower water, the girls made a rule that we had to throw the ball from where we got it. I solved that by going in deep, grabbing the ball and hurling it into the shallows where nobody else was. They all scrambled after it, except for Catherine, who preferred to keep her lower half under cover of water. I followed them, and for a while it was Kevin and myself against four girls in the shallow water. “Come on, Catherine, don’t be shy!” urged Kevin, who had obviously guessed the reason for his sister’s refusal to venture into the shallows, so I quietly shut him up. Finally I got the ball, only to find all the girls leaping at me at once, trying to knock it out of my hand. Tara leapt at me and I lost my balance. They were all over me, scrambling for the fallen ball, and my main aim was to keep from drowning as naked white flesh hit my body and filled my eyes. Kevin was there as well, struggling for the ball, and as the ball finally bounced away, Joy turned to me with delight in her eyes and whispered, “I felt Kevin’s penis.” I presume it was an accidental encounter in the scrum, or I’m sure she wouldn’t have told me. We soon got the ball back, as Suzanne grabbed it, threw it to Elizabeth, not very accurately, and Elizabeth’s outstretched arm knocked it straight to Kevin. All the girls had left me to chase the ball, so he threw it straight to me. The girls headed for me now. I looked for Catherine, who was standing with water just covering her loins, some distance away. “Catch it, Catherine!” I yelled. I deliberately made a bad throw, hurling it into the shallow water almost ten metres in front of her. The ploy worked. The other girls turned, shrieking, and headed for the ball, but Catherine was nearer. For the first time she forgot herself enough to push herself through the shallows in half-swimming fashion at first, her white bottom sticking out of the water. Then, when that was no longer possible, she stood and headed for the ball, conscious enough of her nakedness to keep one hand close to her groin. I had a quick glimpse of pubic hair, the colour of wet sand. She duly reached the ball first and clutched it to her midriff, it being large enough to cover her lower abdomen. As the other girls converged on her, Kevin called to her. He was standing shin-deep in the water now by himself. Forgetting herself, Catherine raised the ball above her head and threw it to him. For a brief moment I saw a small V-shaped patch of pubic hair between her legs. The ball didn’t reach Kevin, but he ran forward to grab it and then splashed out of the water, scooting away over the sand with it, laughing. The girls, loudly indignant, accused him of cheating. But they were growing weary now and by silent mutual consent it seemed the game was over. I followed Kevin out of the water and the girls came too, with Catherine tagging along on the far side of them. I took good care not to look in her direction until she was more comfortable with her exposed body. “I won!” crowed Kevin, coming to join us as we found some dry sand and sat on it, Catherine at the far side of the group from me. He threw the ball down and tried a couple of handstands to celebrate. I noticed Joy, grinning, whispering something in Catherine’s ear. She gave a quick tight smile and stood up. “Let me hold your legs, Kevin,” she said, standing facing almost in my direction. Now I could see clearly that she had just a small patch of pubic hair, quite short but too thick to see through. Clearly she had now forgotten she was supposed to be shy of letting anyone see that region. She held Kevin’s legs as he swung them up and then, quick as a flash, let go with one hand and tickled him on the loose skin under his crotch. He gave a shriek of laughter and collapsed to the ground, upside down and rolling over. Catherine jumped back, laughing. “Catherine, you pooh!” Kevin yelled, scrambling to his feet. “I’m going to do that to you now!” Still laughing, Catherine ran off in the direction of their parents, protruding white bottom wobbling violently, with Kevin after her, a mixture of anger and laughter. She could run faster than he, and arrived back in safety well before him. “Joy, don’t start things like that with other people,” I told her crossly. “The next thing is that Kevin may come back and do that to you. Do you want that?” Joy shook her head, looking suddenly anxious at that thought. “Catherine did it, not me,” she protested. “Stupid of both of you,” I snapped. “You’re just as responsible because you put the silly idea into her head.” Kevin was on his way back to us, while in the background I saw Catherine slipping on her bikini bottom again. I felt most frustrated, after all the trouble I had had getting it off in the first place. When Kevin returned I gave him a piece of my mind as well. “That was stupid of Catherine, but it only causes trouble to do it back to her,” I told him. “When you’re with us you don’t do that sort of thing, okay?” I was sharper with him than I should have been because my plans had been messed up. Kevin nodded, taken aback by my sternness. “Let’s go and eat lunch now,” suggested Elizabeth brightly. Then she added with a laugh, “Whatever’s left of it, of course!” I wasn’t feeling hungry, as I was too excited by the events of the morning, and probably the three sisters felt the same. Anyway, we followed Elizabeth back up the beach to our base. The beach was gradually filling up with people but we still had quite a good space to ourselves. I could tell the sisters were hot and tired by the way they slumped down on the sand, without talking much. Kevin and Elizabeth were as chatty and lively as ever as Elizabeth opened the lunchbox, but this wasn’t a new experience for them. “I feel as if I’m burning,” said Joy, inspecting her body. It did look to be turning pink in places. She took out the sun cream. “We’d all better use some,” I suggested, worried that sunburnt bottoms might go noticed by their parents or Michelle might ask some awkward questions. I held out my hand. “Joy, please give me some,” I asked. She looked at me, and I could see an idea come into her mind and light a gleam in her eyes. “Roy, you lie back and let me rub it on for you,” she instructed, trying to push me on my back. Grinning, I lay back and let her loose. She slopped a lot on her hand and started rubbing it in, from my face and neck down to my arms, chest and stomach. Then she gave a giggle, looked at me shyly and asked, “Shall I do your – your penis as well?” I had suspected this. “Well, I don’t mind, but as naturists we share things,” I told her. “If you do it to me, then you must let me do it to you as well.” She thought for a moment, and I wondered which way it would go. Then she smiled, nodded and said, “All right.” She rubbed her greasy hands down my groin, stopped at my pubic hair and then took my penis in her fingers. I was relieved to find that it scarcely misbehaved as she quickly rubbed cream on it and on the testicles underneath. She felt my scrotum carefully, no doubt wondering just what was inside, and then started work on my legs, as if embarrassed to be touching me so intimately once she had satisfied her curiosity. Then she made me turn over and did my back, taking pleasure no doubt into rubbing it into my bottom. She finished my legs and then squeezed out some more cream for herself. “Remember, it’s my turn,” I smiled gently at her. She looked a little apprehensive, but nodded and gave me the bottle. Immediately she turned to lie on her stomach, no doubt wanting to leave the most delicate areas for last. I rubbed the cream in gently all over, using the full palm of my hand on her firm little white bottom. I had to tell her to turn over, and she did so slowly. I continued my work. Her breasts hadn’t started growing at all, but I felt the area wobble under my fingers and could feel some rather spongy flesh underneath. I felt her tense as I reached the most vital area. “Don’t tickle,” she whispered. “I’ll try not to,” I said, rubbing gently along the sides of her hairless little slit, feeling it between my fingers, but not daring to open her legs and rub in underneath. It was over in a moment, and then I finished the job with her legs. “Thanks, Roy,” she said, a little relieved. Then the gleam in her eye reappeared. “Kevin, you’re burning a bit,” she said. “Do you want me to put some cream on you?” Kevin, who had been digging in the sand, looked up in surprise and nodded. Joy got him to lie on his back and began her work, no doubt in keen anticipation. “Roy, can you do me as well, please?” asked Suzanne, looking at me in her shy way. What a pleasure! It was a virtual repeat of the previous night, except that Suzanne was now awake and I was operating with her full consent and approval. Trying to hide my delight, I rubbed cream into her body with such tenderness, trying to pass on through my hands and fingers the love I felt for this sweet girl. Her little pyramid breasts wobbled loosely under my fingers as I rubbed, feeling at the same time the jelly-like flesh underneath. I felt her ribs, just visible through her skin, as I did her stomach, and then ventured further downstairs towards the basement. I could see the little purple veins in her groin as I rubbed, so gently, and then over that delightful vaginal area, with its little wisps of hair, that I had secretly enjoyed the night before. “Underneath,” she whispered, so quietly that nobody else could hear. She lifted her knees slightly and opened her legs. Amazed but delighted, I slipped my hand under for a moment and rubbed the loose skin underneath. I thought I heard her give a slight moan of pleasure. Then the moment was over, and I had to finish the job in more mundane areas. I had been keeping half an eye on the others. Elizabeth was eating, the only one of us who was hungry. Kevin might have been, but he didn’t say so and I didn’t think we had enough food left to offer him any – the girls might have got hungry later. Tara, playing in the sand, seemed to have got some up her vagina and had turned away to clean it out so that I couldn’t see exactly what she was doing. Joy reached Kevin’s lower half. She asked him something I couldn’t hear, and he nodded. Then he giggled and asked, “Are you going to tickle me?” I was relieved to see her shake her head, and hoped she meant it. Gleefully she took his penis in the fingers of one hand and began to rub it with the other. I saw it harden somewhat, although it didn’t seem to bother him. Then she did his scrotum with equal care. He did give a giggle of slight embarrassment as his penis reached almost vertical position. I think this worried Joy, as she moved quickly down his legs, and his little organ gradually subsided. “Come on, Tara, let Roy put cream on you before you burn,” Suzanne urged the remaining sister. I acted uninterested, looking down and rubbing in one or two vestiges of cream on my body. Tara hesitated, then got up and came over. She lay on her front for me to do the job. When I finished her back, she turned over, but kept one hand close to her vagina, a sign of embarrassment. I ignored it and started off at the top, going slowly to give her time to get used to it. Her breasts were still almost flat, though they wobbled a little as I rubbed them. Her body had more flesh on it than either of her sisters’, and I could hardly see her ribs. Her little vagina was almost tucked away between her legs, but she grew nervy as I approached the vital area. As I was working down her groin, she blurted out, “Not there. I’ll do that.” So I hadn’t quite won over all the sisters. Regretful, I finished my job and let her sort out her own private area. “My turn now,” smiled Elizabeth, standing in front of me as I knelt next to Tara. Her vagina was at about my eye level, and I could just make out a little line of tiny dark hairs reaching upwards three or four centimetres from her vagina, like a millipede with an invisible body and only the legs showing on either side. She willingly lay down on her back first, and I started work. When I reached her most precious area, I could feel those little hairs, still only just visible, under my fingers as I worked in the cream, and the soft rounded lips of her vagina. She did not open her legs for me as Suzanne had done, but then that wasn’t really necessary. We went for another dip in the sea to cool off, and soon Catherine came to join us, naked again. “Kevin, I’m sorry,” was the first thing she said, at a safe distance from her brother. “No more tickling, okay? Do you promise?” “Okay, then,” Kevin agreed, and I dropped a casual reminder to everybody that tickling in certain places wasn’t really a good idea on a beach like this. As we came out of the sea again, Kevin did a few more handstands, practising his new skill. The he said, “Come on, Catherine, you do some. You’re good at it.” He turned to the rest of us and said, “Catherine does gym, so she’s good.” Catherine looked embarrassed and shook her head, though. I’m sure she felt embarrassed about the prospect of doing it naked, seeing how exposed the rest of us were while on our hands. Kevin tried to persuade her, and I had to stop him, reminding him that everyone had a right to decide for themselves. The others plunged back into the sea again, while I kept well out of the frigid water. Over to one side, though, Catherine took the opportunity to show off a few cartwheels, but not close enough for anyone to get a good look at her private areas. Despite her large bottom, she was straight and elegant as she performed. As she came to a stop, I deliberately looked over at her, smiled as I caught her eye, and then looked back at the others in the sea. I was sure the performance was mainly for my benefit, but I didn’t want to seem too interested in case she was embarrassed by her nudity again. She did a few more, and I occasionally showed an interest. Then she walked over to me. “Roy, can you do cartwheels?” she asked. “No, I never got any further than standing on my hands,” I replied. “Try it. You start off like this,” she said, putting her arms up, doing one cartwheel and then stopping abruptly, as if she suddenly remembered she might be exposing herself a bit too much. “Try it,” she repeated. I put my arms up and tried, kicking my legs over and then trying to land upright. I didn’t manage it very well and came down hard on my ankle. Instinctively I let my ankle collapse, so as not to put any strain on it, but landed with a bump on the sand a few metres away from Catherine. I gave a loud gasp of pain and clutched my ankle. Catherine was laughing at my crash landing. Then she asked, “Are you hurt?” “I landed on my ankle and I think I’ve strained it,” I answered, making a bit more fuss than was necessary in the hope that she would come over. It worked. She walked over, one hand protectively close to her thick little mat of wet-sandy pubic hair, and knelt down to have a look at my ankle. Even now she was very careful, keeping her legs tightly together so that her pubic region disappeared as she crouched. Kevin saved the day. He had come out of the sea, and now he ran up behind Catherine and leapt on her back, piggyback style, emitting a loud yell into her ear. She squealed and sprawled over backwards with a bump. Her legs splayed outwards and for a second I had a vivid view of the very place she had been so anxious to hide. There was a large triangular patch of dark pink flesh between her legs, crisscrossed by a network of long loose hairs, with the vagina through the middle, until it disappeared into her thick patch of hair at the top. “Kevin, you pest!” she raged at him, aiming a slap at him on the sand where he had fallen off as she first crossed her legs, causing a sliver of pink to appear in the dark slit that was her vagina, and then hurriedly curled them under her. Taken by surprise, it took her a moment to muster her defences. When she snatched an embarrassed glance in my direction, she found me examining my ankle again and I could almost hear her inward sigh of relief. Kevin was darting away, laughing, while Catherine glared after him, still blushing. “Catherine, would you just help me up, please?” I asked her, holding out my arm. Feeling exposed, she held out one hand for me to grasp, while the other slipped into her groin, covering all evidence of femininity down there. I grabbed her hand, pushing myself up with the other hand, and hobbled around, testing out my ankle. It was really only slightly painful when I put my weight on it, but I limped for a few minutes in case Catherine suspected I had been tricking her. After that it didn’t really hurt much at all. It was now midafternoon and the beach was well populated as far as I could see, far round the bay. The others, unused to the heat, had periods of energy followed by periods of tiredness. At one stage the girls decided to bury Kevin in the sand. He was a willing victim, lying on his back while the girls slowly piled sand on him. He seemed quite unaware that the three sisters were using this as an excuse to examine his penis, which lay on its side across his groin, small and white. This was almost the last area that they covered up. Then he sneezed, and shook a lot of the sand off his chest, so they had to cover him up again. A little later on Catherine suddenly exclaimed, “Mum’s calling us.” I could see her mother, now partly clothed, standing up and waving in our direction. “Aw, it must be time to go home,” groaned Kevin. “Come and see them, and maybe they’ll let us stay a bit longer.” We followed Catherine and Kevin over to meet their parents, where he introduced us simply by saying, “These are my friends.” Then he begged them to stay longer, but in vain. It seemed they lived quite a distance away and wanted to get home before the returning traffic became too horrendous. Catherine in the meantime was slipping shyly into her clothes, putting on a white blouse and short black shirt first before sneaking her lacy white bra and tiny white panties on underneath. Kevin was finally persuaded to dress as well, and the three sisters now decided they wanted to say goodbye and take another dip in the sea. I suspect they did not like the idea of being naked still once Kevin was dressed. Elizabeth and I waited until they left and said goodbye to them all. It had been a good time with them, and perhaps we had done a little to ease Catherine’s self-consciousness. Catherine looked at me and smiled widely as she thanked me, more confident with her clothes on, I’m afraid. Kevin gave a big grin and turned to wave a couple of times as they headed off along the beach towards Textile World. I wondered if we also should start moving home so as to avoid the worst of the traffic, but the girls wouldn’t hear of it. They had been waiting so long for the sun that they wanted to enjoy it for as long as they could. But most children have had enough of fussy parents dragging them away when they are having a good time for reasons such as that, so I decided I would not be like that. I merely warned them how long the return journey might be and left it to them. Finally they had had enough. It was almost six o’clock in the evening and most of the people had left, although so crowded were the beaches that many remained. We returned to our base and reluctantly I put my clothes on again. “That was good once we got used to it,” grinned Tara brightly as she began to put her dress on. “I’ve never done that before.” The others murmured their agreement. “Hey, let’s be naughty and leave our panties off until we get home,” giggled Joy. “Nobody will know.” The others agreed, except for Elizabeth, who presumably found no excitement in walking around naked under a dress. She pulled on her white panties and then her dress, the last I was to see of her lovely body. We set off back along the beach, past the remaining naturists towards the textile beach. “Do you remember how scared we felt when we came along this morning?” Suzanne reminded the others. “It felt so strange at first, before we got used to it.” “That’s the first time I’ve seen a boy naked – a big boy, anyway,” put in Joy. Obviously she had forgotten about me, or else she meant a boy of her own age. “I quite liked Kevin,” said Tara, rather condescendingly. “He was nice. I mean, he was fun.” “He didn’t mind us seeing his penis,” giggled Joy. “And that funny bag thing underneath – I’ve forgotten what it’s called. It’s not very big.” “That’s his testicles,” Suzanne informed her. “Did you see it go a bit stiff at times?” I let this conversation continue, as I suppose it was a case of three poor deprived girls suddenly released from the Dark Ages and brought into the light. They happily discussed Kevin’s attributes, and those of two or three other boys we had met briefly during the day. It was a long journey back for the tired girls across the sand, and there were a few complaints before we reached the shop by the car park. Most of the textiles who remained were now packing up to go home, and those who were changing were doing it under towels, causing themselves a great deal of trouble and looking rather foolish into the bargain. We reached the shop to find it was now closed, but the girls headed for the benches to put on their sandals. The three older girls sat on the benches, while Joy and I sat on the ground in front of them. Joy had evidently forgotten that she had left off her panties, as she lifted one knee and then the other to put on her sandals. Her long, soft vagina was clearly visible under her light green skirt to anybody who was looking in her direction. I was a little worried that some old granny might see and object, so I sat in front of her to bar the view as much as possible. But the English are a very tolerant race, and if anybody saw they ignored it. Suzanne and Tara were more decorous, with Suzanne bending her head down to put on her sandals without lifting her legs, while Tara only did it slightly, giving me a tiny glimpse of something pale pink up her skirt. Elizabeth, unconcerned, put one leg on the bench and then the other, revealing a small area of her white panties under her yellow skirt. I realised this was the first time I had seen her panties up her dress. Then the girls decided they wanted to visit the toilet before they went home. Tara stayed behind at first. “I did a wee in the sea,” she told me proudly. But then she found she couldn’t resist the lure most females seem to have for communal gatherings in the toilet, and scuttled after the others. They were quite a long time, but eventually I got them into the car. As they climbed in, chattering, I quietly adjusted the rear-view mirror in the front downwards so I could see what was going on in the back seat. This time Elizabeth sat in the front, while the three sisters were in the back. They were soon in ‘naughty’ mode. “Ooh, Joy, watch out for the wind,” giggled Tara, who was sitting in the middle, as she lifted up her sister’s dress at the front, while Joy squealed and bent forward in her seat to protect herself. “Yes, it may blow your clothes away,” giggled Suzanne, pulling up Tara’s dress, and soon all three of them were tugging away at each other’s clothes. Elizabeth, the most balanced of the four as far as nudity went, obviously found this very immature but was too polite to say so. We joined the long string of cars crawling out of the car park and back on to the main road. As I negotiated the traffic, keeping an eye on the mirror, the girls grew weary of that game and returned to the exciting subject of Kevin’s penis. “Did you see the way it bobbled about when he ran?” Tara asked the others, illustrating this with her hand movements. “So does Roy’s,” put in Joy eagerly, no doubt forgetting I could hear. “I felt it when we were playing. It was so cold after being in the sea. I wonder when Kevin will get hairy.” “When he’s a teenager,” Suzanne told her. “Boys are slower than girls.” “Yes, you’re getting hairs already,” giggled Tara. “Show us your hairstyle,” and she lifted Suzanne’s skirt again. “Let’s sit like this,” giggled Joy. She was behind me, so I couldn’t see what she was doing, but I did see Tara quickly copy her. She pulled up her skirt and tucked it behind her at waist level, revealing her white thighs and loins, but with her vagina tucked between her legs. By moving my head towards the door I could see Suzanne had done the same thing, her thin hips and waist exposed almost up to her belly button. She was giggling silently, looking very naughty. “We can see those people but they can’t see us,” giggled Joy, presumably staring at the people in the car behind us. “They don’t know what we’re doing.” “Let’s show them,” snickered Tara. “Let’s do handstands for them!” So saying, she slumped down in her seat and put her legs high in the air, trying to reach the roof of the car with her toes. In my mirror I got an incredible picture of her bare white bottom, with the soft area of pink flesh between her legs clearly exposed and her vagina appearing to meet the crack in her bottom somewhere in the middle. That sight always reminds me of a zip fastener. “Yes, let’s do that,” squealed Joy. I got a foot in my ear and a muffled apology, so apparently she was doing the same thing. “Come on, Suzanne, we’ll all do it.” By their attitude I feel sure they were confident that those outside the car would be able to see nothing more than their legs. By moving my head surreptitiously, I could just see Suzanne hesitate, then apparently decide “What the heck,” and lift her thin freckled legs up. Again I could see that narrow patch of pink skin under the legs and her thin vagina, fully exposed to those in the right position but invisible to those in the car behind. “Roy, turn round,” Joy encouraged me. “Suzanne and Tara want to show you a sight you have never ever seen in your life before.” Tara gave a squeal and slipped her hands round her thighs to hide most of her vaginal area. “I can’t turn round when I’m driving,” I told them, as we pulled out of the car park and joined the slow-moving queue of traffic on the road. “You can see right up their – right up their bottoms if you look,” giggled Joy. “Right up their fannies.” “Joy, that’s rude talk,” I scolded her. “You can have fun if you want, as long as you don’t annoy anybody else. But cut out that rude, silly talk.” I still didn’t turn round. That should finally prove to the girls that I was not remotely interested in viewing them when they were naked. The girls put their legs down and turned to stare out of the back window, laughing and waving. My side mirror showed me that the family in the car behind were waving rather idly, obviously having no idea of what was really going on in our car. The girls did it a few more times before they grew bored. They did a few more silly things, like pulling up skirts again and daring each other to take off their dresses in the car. Joy at one stage seemed as if she was going to, and from the sounds she made it seemed that she was trying to do so while crouched down on the floor, but it was too cramped for her to complete the job properly. Finally they began to settle down and talk instead. Tara sat there with her knees up and arms wrapped around them for a while, providing my mirror with another view between her legs. On the seat was the crack in her bottom, surmounted by the pink area of loose skin. The small vagina with its rounded lips could not have been more clearly visible. The lips were slightly parted, and every now and then she reached down, no doubt enjoying the novelty of being in the car without panties, and felt or rubbed it. Sometimes the labia at the top parted, revealing a tiny white clitoris. Hers was the only clitoris I had not had displayed to me on the beach, so against my expectations I had a full house today. They had shown some embarrassment but had not really minded too much what I had seen. I was accepted and trusted. I just loved these girls. My eyes misted up as I drove. I would do anything to look after them and protect them. (To be continued) THE ENGLISH EXPERIENCE (CHAPTER 9) It took about three hours to get home from Studland. The biggest hold-up was where the Studland road joined the main road from Swanage and all the cars had to give way to traffic on that road. As we had two gridlocked roads joining each other, that was a major problem. Fortunately many English motorists are very courteous and helpful to each other, and the only way we could get on to that main road was for some of them to allow cars from our road into the queue. That was how we finally got on to it, and even so it took almost an hour. Then we had another half-hour to wait at a slow roundabout near Wareham. The girls got rather bored and irritable after a while, which increased as we crawled home, stopping and starting all the time. About half an hour from home, Tara decided she needed to go to the toilet, but there was nowhere to stop. “You’ll just have to hold it in,” Joy told her unsympathetically. Tara had to sit with her legs tightly crossed and hand down to her groin during the last stages of the journey. By then I had other things to worry about. Pam’s car began to misbehave, with a slight knocking noise in the engine and jerky movements while I was driving. That, I was afraid, would stop any chance of a similar trip the next day – but in any case the traffic problems were making the girls lose their enthusiasm. As we finally neared home, Suzanne and Joy put their panties back on again. Tara, in a voice of great strain, claimed she couldn’t put hers on again because she would be sure to wet them if she did so. It was after nine o’clock before I was able to drop Christine off at her home, where Tara plunged out of the car and raced inside, hand between her legs, to go to the toilet. We had used Pam’s mobile to tell the parents we would be late, and they understood the situation. When the rest of us finally arrived home, the girls were so tired they just ate a small meal and then went to bed. We were all late up the following morning. It was another hot, sunny day, and the weather forecast told us it would stay that way before a weather front approaching from the North Atlantic Ocean would bring cooler, cloudier weather, followed by rain, on about Wednesday. At least that should see me out of the country by then. Pam was slightly better – which her car wasn’t – but felt it wise to spend the day in bed. Michelle was mostly better but rather weepy, and Pam thought she should stay at home again as well. Frank resisted the girls’ pleas to lend us his own car and suggested we went on a picnic. We weren’t too far from the countryside and there were some nice walks. After the excitement of the naturist beach, this was rather tame stuff for the girls. I suggested we invite some friends and go as a large group. They did some phoning around, but the only girls able to come were Fiona and her cousin, a 12-year-old girl named Ashleigh. I was glad I would have the chance of seeing Fiona again, but disappointed Christine wouldn’t be able to come. The girls were all wearing their white shirts and black skirts again. “Are you wearing any panties this time?” I teased them, knowing the answer as I had already seen Suzanne’s shiny white ones when she sat down. Tara and Joy looked at each other, grinning, and Tara said, “Let’s show him.” They immediately went into their “We’re at the seaside” chant, and the ‘quick flash’ section clearly revealed that Tara was wearing her baggy white ones and Joy dull pink ones. A few minutes later Fiona’s mother dropped off our companions, insisting on thanking me as ‘the boy who was so kind to Fiona at the dance’. No doubt that was what had encouraged her to entrust her daughter to me. “I hope you don’t mind Howie coming along as well,” she said. Howie, it appeared, was Ashleigh’s brother, seven years old. I soon found that my first impression that he was a delightful kid was correct. He had light brown hair, grey eyes and a well-groomed appearance. He reminded me of Scott without the silliness – although I realise regular readers might be asking, “What does that leave?” Well, it left a lot of charm, a big smile and a quiet, pleasant way of speaking. I was slightly wary of taking a boy, though, as he might well inhibit the girls if we had any exciting moments during the day. Ashleigh was an athletic-looking girl with darker hair than her brother and big warm brown eyes. She bulged somewhat at the front, so a degree of development had obviously started there already. She was quite attractive, although she did have a habit of walking round with her mouth slightly open. Fiona, who greeted me with a big smile and I think she might have attempted a hug if her mother had not been there, was wearing a white shirt and a short, tight black skirt like the three sisters, so presumably Suzanne had left instructions when she phoned. Ashleigh it seemed didn’t have such clothes with her, but she was wearing a white shirt, through which her bra clearly showed at the back, and a loose brown and orange skirt. Even Howie had done his best, with a white shirt and dark grey shorts, the British kind that travel halfway down the thigh. We set off along the road, heading for a hill about three kilometres away which Pam had recommended. The girls had been there before and knew the way. As usual, I had to carry the lunch and etceteras, but this time I had a knapsack on my back, which made it easier. As we walked along, Howie walked next to me, chatting in an interesting fashion and holding my hand as he did so. The girls stared at him in disapproval, and Joy actually told him with contempt, “Boys don’t hold hands.” But he took no notice, and I suspected that the girls were jealous. We had to cross a main road on the way to our picnic spot. It must have taken us about five minutes before we were able to cross, with so many cars all heading for the seaside. At least the cars were still moving. Further on their journey they would no doubt find the roads as gridlocked as we had the previous day. “I wish we were going to the beach again,” moaned Joy as we waited to cross. The girls had been talking among themselves a great deal about their thrilling experiences at Studland, but not when their parents or other children were around. “Did you go yesterday?” asked Ashleigh. “So did we. Which beach did you go to?” “So that’s why I got no reply when I tried to phone Fiona yesterday morning,” said Suzanne, ignoring the question. “It just rang, and you must have already left.” “Yes, we left early. Which beach did you go to?” repeated Ashleigh. “Oh, we went – near Swanage,” put in Tara. “We went to Swanage,” said Fiona. “But I didn’t see you there.” “Near Swanage. It was Studland, actually,” Suzanne said daringly, taking the plunge. “Oh, Studland’s nice,” said Fiona, without mentioning the naturist beach, and they started talking about how crowded the beaches and the roads had been. No doubt they were just the same today, but we would miss them. Once we had crossed the main road we headed up a narrow country lane towards the hill, or the beacon as they were often known locally. There were few cars, and what cars there were seemed to be heading one way – the seaside, no doubt. Our convoy moved slowly and it took at least an hour for us to reach the beacon. I was used to the hot weather, but the others obviously were not. The beacon was covered in trees, with a few rocks here and there. The girls did not want to climb right to the top, but slumped down in the shade, faces red, and demanded water from my knapsack. Fiona lay back, legs slightly apart, showing slightly loose white panties under her short, tight skirt, but Ashleigh’s skirt was longer and looser, revealing nothing. “I’m hot,” complained Howie, wiping his sticky face. “Take your shirt off, if you like,” I suggested, wondering if the girls would take a hint. I peeled my shirt off, and with a bit more difficulty Howie struggled out of his. He sat near me in the shade, with his little white chest catching patches of sunlight through the leaves. After a few minutes Howie stood up, went to Ashleigh who was flopped against a tree, and said in a low voice, looking slightly embarrassed, “Ashleigh, I need a pee-pee.” There was a silly murmur of giggles from the girls, but I caught some of their eyes and they stopped. Ashleigh grinned and replied, “Just go round the corner where nobody can see you, okay?” Clearly this was a traditional textile family, complete with baby-talk and unnecessary privacy. Howie looked around hesitantly, then disappeared behind a clump of bushes some way to our right. About two minutes later he returned, looking worried. Again he sidled up to his sister and said, “I can’t get my zip open. Please help me.” That is the trouble with the long British shorts, where a boy cannot use the leg, as we do in my country, when we need to urinate. This time the other girls hardly laughed, having sensed my feelings on the matter. Howie had unbuttoned the shorts at the waist but had only been able to move the zip down three or four centimetres. Ashleigh fiddled around with it and pulled, several times, harder each time, but without success. “Maybe Roy can do it,” suggested Suzanne. So Howie, looking unhappy and face slightly red, came over and stood in front of me. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t matter,” I assured him with a smile, grabbing hold of the top of the zip. It wouldn’t budge. I peeled over the top of his shorts and had a look inside, but I couldn’t see what was wrong. Whichever way I tried to pull, nothing co-operated. “I need to go,” he whispered, with a hint of urgency. “Well, look, I can’t get it unstuck at the moment,” I told him. “Perhaps we can pull your shorts down a bit do you can go to the toilet and then I’ll try again.” He nodded, so I took the waist of his shorts and began to pull them down. Suddenly he grabbed them himself to stop me. “They’ll laugh at me,” he whispered furtively. “I’ll stop them if they do,” I assured him. “But I don’t think there’s anything else we can do, do you?” He shook his head glumly, and allowed me to ease his shorts downwards. He was facing me, while I looked back at the girls, who were watching with big grins on their faces. I stared hard at them and they seemed to get the message, as the grins diminished and there was no laughter. Suzanne and Fiona turned their eyes away and began talking about something else. As I pulled Howie’s shorts down, it seemed his white underpants were being pulled down as well, as his bottom began to appear at the back, and he reached round to hold his underpants up as his shorts went down. It was a tight fit as I slowly eased his shorts over his bottom and began to pull them down his thighs. Then he put his hands down and whispered, “That’s enough.” “All right, just go to the toilet now and then I’ll try and fix your shorts,” I told him. He nodded, and started to move away. But his shorts, once over the hump of his bottom, began to slip until they were around his knees. He came to a stop, looking round anxiously at me. “I can’t walk,” he said. “Just take your shorts off, then, so you can walk,” I suggested. “It doesn’t matter,” I added reassuringly. But he shook his head unhappily. “Well, just use this tree over here. I’ll look after you,” I assured him. As he hesitated again, I stood up, picked him up gently and stood him in front of the tree in question, giving the girls another meaningful look. He looked up at me with big fearful eyes and I assured him again, “Don’t worry, it doesn’t matter.” Awkwardly he pulled down his underpants, revealing a thin little white penis rather longer than Scott’s, with a kink in the middle. He pointed it at the tree and then after a second began to urinate on to the bark. I stood there with a hand on his shoulder, I stared back again at the girls. Tara and Joy in particular were sitting there hunched over their knees with their hands in their mouths to stop the giggles, and I suppose it must have looked quite funny to see Howie from the rear right then, shorts around his knees, underpants around his thighs, white bottom in full view and a stream of urine hitting the tree on the far side of his body. Joy immediately stood up and come over to me to ask me some ridiculous question. It was quite obviously an excuse to have a closer look at Howie. I saw him stiffen as she stood on the far side and began to speak to me, all the time shifting her gaze to and from Howie’s penis. But he kept his eyes and his hands firmly on the task in hand, until he had emptied his bladder and shook his penis dry. “There now. Do you feel better after that, Howie?” she asked patronisingly and quite unnecessarily as he began to pull up his underpants. Always being well-mannered, he nodded but his face was red. I glared at Joy. “Now can you fix my shorts?” Howie whispered to me, pulling them up as far as they would go. Since he couldn’t get them up over his bottom, the vital area where I had to work was directly on top of his penis. As I put my hand inside to try to work the zip free, I could feel the lump there through his underpants with the back of my hand. Ashleigh stood up, revealing a quick flash of white under her bottom as she did so, and came over. “Can I help?” she asked. “No, it’s all right,” whispered Howie, turning his head away. That surprised me, but it seemed he was trusting me ahead of his sister now. She shrugged and returned to the other girls. As I struggled with the zip, Howie suddenly gave a grin and a giggle. “That tickles,” he said. “What does?” I asked. “When you did that,” he explained. “It tickled my wee-wee.” “Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” I replied, again trying to get at the inside of the zip and tickling him again. “I don’t mind. It feels funny,” he grinned. “Do it again.” “I can’t do it again,” I protested, but at the same time gave him a little squeeze with my fingers under the testicles. Again he giggled. “You did it,” he chuckled. I continued to struggle, but amused Howie by frequently holding his penis for a second between my fingers or giving his testicles a scratch. The girls must have wondered why he was laughing, but I don’t think they dared ask me. Then I felt something begin to harden inside his underpants and thought I had better stop. “Look, I just can’t do it while you’re wearing them,” I told him. “Can you take them off for a few minutes and I’ll try with them off?” Rather to my surprise he immediately said, “All right,” and began to pull his shorts down himself. I could see a bulge in the front of his underpants and the material was tightly stretched in one place. “You made my wee-wee stiff,” he chuckled, holding the point with his fingers for a moment. He was now naked apart from his underpants, which had a suspicious bulge in the front. He turned for a moment to look at the girls, who were trying not to look in case they earned a glare from me. Then he made like an aeroplane, spreading his arms out and tearing around making engine noises. Some of the girls could not stop themselves from laughing now, but tried to hide it as well as they could. I struggled with the zip on his shorts, but couldn’t fix it. I did finally manage to get it to the bottom, but it was very difficult to pull up again, and when it did it immediately came apart again. While I was struggling, the girls, tired and sweating, recovered in the shade. Then suddenly Joy asked me, “Roy, is it all right if – if I take my shirt off?” I looked up, surprised. “Yes, of course, you don’t really need to ask,” I replied. “Well, I – just wondered, because this isn’t a naturist place and I didn’t know if it was allowed,” she answered. “For girls, that is.” “A naturist place?” echoed Ashleigh, disbelievingly. Without meaning to, Joy had given the secret away. “Yes, when – when we were at Studland yesterday we went up to the naturist beach to – get an ice cream,” was Tara’s hurried half-truth. “And we tried it for a while. Without our costumes, that is,” put in Suzanne, deciding to come clean. “You went naked on the beach?” asked Ashleigh, still sounding mildly incredulous. Suzanne nodded, looking a little embarrassed. “Was it fun?” asked Fiona. She didn’t look too surprised, but she was interested. “Well, it took a while to get used to it, but it was fun after that,” Suzanne said. “We went with Elizabeth.” “Was Roy there too?” asked Ashleigh, in a slightly lower tone, but I could still hear. “Yes, he – he took us there,” Tara said. “He’s a naturist, you see. Back home in his own country. They do that sort of thing there.” “I don’t think I’d dare,” giggled Fiona. She was sitting with her legs crossed now and a wide area of her white panties was visible. “I wouldn’t do that,” declared Ashleigh. “I don’t want people looking at me.” “They don’t look at you there,” Suzanne told her. “Or else I wouldn’t want to do it. We even played with a boy of nine, and he didn’t stare or anything. So we didn’t mind.” “It was real fun,” Joy burst out enthusiastically. She had her shirt off now and her bare white body was in sharp contrast to her black skirt. “Come on, let’s all pretend we’re naturists and take our shirts off. But we’ll keep our skirts on.” “Yes, let’s,” agreed Suzanne. “Come on, Fiona.” She and Tara began taking their shirts off. After a pause, Fiona suddenly decided to do the same. Ashleigh, probably more developed physically than the others, shook her head. She glanced over at me. I could see what they were doing from the corner of my eye, but kept my focus firmly on Howie’s shorts. I often find that girls, when doing something in my presence that embarrasses them a bit, will actually start a conversation, though I’m often not sure whether it’s to draw attention to themselves in a non-sexual way or just to try to cover that embarrassment. Anyway, Fiona quickly asked me, “Roy, have you found what’s wrong with Howie’s shorts yet?” I looked up and replied, “The zip is badly stuck somehow, and I think it’s broken. Even when I pull it, the teeth won’t stay together.” Fiona, I saw at a glance, looked rather like a boy with a muscular chest, having spread out a little as she approached puberty. “Maybe it’s hungry,” put in Ashleigh, in a burst of humour, making the others laugh. They laughed much more than necessary, another cover I suppose for the unusual feeling of being outside without shirts on. After a few minutes they got to their feet and began to wander around, in between glances around to make sure the rest of the world wasn’t watching them. Strangely, I regarded them with new eyes. It had appeared natural enough to me to see them naked on the beach the previous day, but here in a textile environment it was different. I noticed their thin, immature bodies, complete with ribs and shoulder-blades and flat chests and stomachs, as I had not done before. When Howie finally came back to see how I was managing, I told him I couldn’t fix it. At least I had managed to pull the zip to the bottom, so he could put his shorts on, which he did. The fly gaped open at the front, clearly revealing his underpants. Amid more giggling as I made accidental contact with the little bulge in the front at times, I managed to pull the zip up halfway again, to pull it together in the middle, but the teeth wouldn’t mesh so it was still open above and below. Howie would have to walk round like that for the rest of the day. He didn’t seem to worry about that here, but Ashleigh instructed him as to how he would need to hold his hand or his hat or a bag over the front of his shorts when we were in a more public place. The girls had been talking about their day at the beach, although the three sisters were a little sketchy about certain details of ours. Joy did a bit of whispering, and I suspected she was remembering James’s penis. I’m sure it wasn’t mine or there would have been sneaky glances in my direction. Then Tara said, “Roy, show us how you do your handstands.” I obliged, swinging my legs up straight and then spreading them wide before coming to the ground. Fiona clapped in admiration, while Joy giggled and said, “You show your underpants when you do the splits.” As usual, I shrugged and said, “That doesn’t matter.” To prove it, I repeated my act, hoping this would convince them all, especially Ashleigh the shy one, that I was ‘safe’. Howie tried to do it, but the girls, wearing skirts and no tops, were a bit more inhibited at first. I helped Howie by holding his legs up. Wearing his long English shorts, he did not reveal his underpants up his legs, but of course his fly gaped all the time. The girls seemed to have got the message now and made no silly comments. “Now hold me,” requested Suzanne with her shy smile. She tucked her skirt into her panties and then stood on her hands for me to grasp her legs. A sliver of her white panties was visible as she stood on her hands, with my holding her legs, and no doubt a lot more as she ‘did the splits’, going by the gasp from Ashleigh. But my eyes were deliberately elsewhere then, as I sought to prove I was not interested in looking. Then the other girls had their turns, slowly at first and all with skirts tucked in, so Howie kept sneaking in for extra turns. Ashleigh was an exception at first, but Fiona shyly had her turn. After she finished, she looked up shyly and asked me, “Could you see my knickers when I did the splits?” “I don’t know, I didn’t look,” I told her truthfully, having used my self-control in the present with the hope of gaining the girls’ confidence for the future. But the other girls nodded their heads and Ashleigh said strongly, though with a grin, “Yes.” I was glad that Howie seemed to take no interest in this. “It doesn’t matter,” I told her casually, though she didn’t seem unduly worried. “You can do what you like here.” “We can’t go naked here,” pointed out Joy. I looked around. It was quite an isolated spot, but it was rather open and people could have seen us from some distance away. Tempted as I was, I had to be careful. So I answered, “Maybe not quite, but other things don’t matter.” “If we had some more trees so nobody could see us, we could go naked,” suggested Tara, and laughed when there was a squeal or two. I didn’t think she was serious, so I didn’t pursue the matter. We did some more handstands, and as I sensed the girls were trusting me more, I didn’t feel I needed to keep my eyes so obviously away from them when they did the splits. Fiona spread her legs enticingly wide, stretching the gusset of her thin panties that didn’t quite hug her legs, and giving me a glimpse or two of her groin further in. Ashleigh tried a few handstands herself, having tucked her skirt in more carefully than the others, but still revealing a sliver of tight-fitting white cotton panties when in the right position. Her shirt was too short for her to tuck into her skirt properly, so it would obey the law of gravity and often give a glimpse of her white bra. However, she was not good enough to stay upside-down for long. “Come on, Ashleigh, let Roy hold your legs,” Fiona encouraged her, but Ashleigh shook her head. “Fiona, why don’t you and Suzanne hold Ashleigh’s legs?” I suggested. All parties involved agreed, so Ashleigh swung her legs up for the others to grab. A small triangle of white panties was visible at the crotch, while her shirt slid downwards, bringing the bottom of her plain white bra into full view. Joy gave a giggle and made some comment, just as Suzanne and Fiona decided to help Ashleigh out by doing the splits for her. They spread her legs, revealing the entire crotch of her panties, just as Ashleigh appeared to realise that she was revealing too much and started struggling to get free. Ashleigh landed in a red-faced heap on the ground, amid laughter from Tara and Joy. She sat up and hurriedly adjusted her clothing, while Tara told her wickedly, “We saw your bra when your shirt went up,” and Joy added, “And your knickers.” “Hey, cut that out!” I broke in indignantly, seeing the embarrassed look on Ashleigh’s face. “I’ve told you, it doesn’t matter. People can do what they like here without having silly people like you making silly comments.” “It serves her right for not taking her shirt off,” protested Joy. “She doesn’t have to,” I retorted. “If you’re confident enough to do that, it’s great, but have respect for other people who don’t have your freedom. Ashleigh, are you all right?” Still rather flushed from both embarrassment and being upside-down, Ashleigh struggled to her feet. “I’m all right,” she smiled, trying to shrug it off. She really did have a lovely smile and I was sure it was only initial shyness with me that had been bothering her. I was sure I would soon be able to win her over. We spent three or four hours there, including lunch, playing games, exploring, talking or just lazing in the shade. It was not a very high beacon, but the surrounding countryside was quite flat so we could see some distances. One main road was visible, filled with slowly moving cars. Apart from Ashleigh, we left our shirts off, and I was invited to help with applying sun cream. Parts of the girls’ chests and backs were slightly red from the previous day, however careful I had been with the cream, so I took even more care this time with those parts. When we went round to the far side of the hill, I found a tree with a long horizontal branch about the height of my chest. I put my hands on it, then swung my legs up between them, to hang upside-down on the branch, just above the ground. I sensed that again some of the girls were looking at my underpants, but this time did not dare say so, even to me. Howie immediately wanted to do that, but also wanted me to hold him. I held him from behind as he swung his legs up and clumsily hooked them around the branch, and then held his knees as he swung. His underpants peered out from his fractured fly. Then Fiona wanted a turn. As she swung herself up, with my help, Ashleigh called out, “Fiona, your skirt!” She had forgotten to tuck it into her panties. Fiona took no notice, and as she swung herself upside-down her skirt flopped down over her stomach, exposing her panties completely. She gave a stifled giggle, but allowed herself to swing freely, moving her head to try and look up at what was happening. Again I found I could see inside the slightly loose elastic on her legs, which gave a glimpse of the flesh inside. Ashleigh gave a gasp at the sight, while I acted totally unconcerned. The three sisters no longer had any inhibitions as far as I was concerned. Joy was next to demand a turn. “Tuck your skirt in, Joy,” urged Ashleigh, anxious at the impropriety of what Fiona had done. Joy took no notice, and seemed to take delight in having her skirt flopping down over her bare chest and her pale pink panties exposed to the sky. “It doesn’t matter,” I told Ashleigh very casually, as she stood there watching with her hand to her mouth. “This is how mermaids dry themselves after they come out of the sea,” Tara told us all as she came to me for her turn. I didn’t quite see the connection, but after that this game was called Mermaids. Suzanne had a turn, and it gave me special pleasure to see her soft white panties exposed on her thin, freckled body, hugging her bottom closely. Then Tara looked at Ashleigh and urged her, “Come on, Ashleigh, be a mermaid.” Ashleigh looked reluctant, but when the others joined in, she finally began to tuck her skirt into her panties in preparation. “No, you can’t tuck your skirt in, you must do it properly, like we did,” protested Tara. “Don’t be such a spoilsport.” Ashleigh shook her head, but the others kept urging her and she began to look upset. That’s when I decided to break in. “Look, Ashleigh, if I turn my back and promise not to look, will you do it?” I asked. She looked at me uncertainly, and then nodded. “All right, I promise not to turn round,” I said, turning my back on them all. “Tell me when I can turn round again.” “I’ll tell you if he looks, but he won’t,” Joy assured Ashleigh. I heard some scraping, no doubt Ashleigh swinging up, as she was old enough to do by herself, and then cheers from the other girls seemed to indicate that she had indeed become a mermaid. Then came Tara’s mischievous voice, “All right, Roy, you can look.” “No!” came Ashleigh’s voice urgently, so I didn’t turn. There was a scramble and a thump, no doubt indicating that she had returned to earth in a hurry. Then Suzanne’s voice said, “It’s really all right now, Roy.” As I turned, I heard Ashleigh in a hushed whisper ask Fiona, “Did he look?” and she replied in the negative. “You know, Ashleigh, you really can trust Roy,” Suzanne told her. “We were all naked together on the beach yesterday and he – he was great. He’s used to it.” “Yes, but Ashleigh isn’t used to it,” I put in, trying to put her at ease. “Don’t worry, Ashleigh, I understand. I won’t do anything to make you feel bad.” “Mermaid!” yelled Howie, clamouring to be put up again. The affair about mermaids seemed to leave him unmoved – certainly he showed no interest and made no comments, as Scott would have done. “Howie, you can’t be a mermaid,” protested Joy. “I’ll be a merman, then,” he insisted. “You need a skirt for that and you haven’t got one,” she told him. “If I take my shorts off, will that do?” he asked, unbuttoning his belt. The girls seemed to agree, so he pulled them down. They were rather a tight fit, and he pulled his underpants down over his bottom for a moment and had to pull them back up. Then, shorts off, he swung upside-down with my help, shirt falling right down over his face so that only his underpants covered his body. The other girls wanted to go again. When it was Ashleigh’s turn this time, I automatically turned round, but wondered if it was really necessary. Nobody said anything this time, and I turned round without an invitation when it was clear Ashleigh was down again. All the girls needed my help except for Ashleigh, even if it was just to hold an arm in case they fell on their heads. The third time, Suzanne decided she could do it herself, and scrambled up rather nervously. Then she couldn’t bring herself to let go with her one hand and swing freely, so she called for me to hold it to make sure she didn’t fall. When she had finished, she put up her hands to grasp the branch again and let her legs slither down to the ground. “This is how I do it without any help,” Ashleigh said, looking at me as she grasped the branch. Then, trusting me, she swung up her legs, put her feet against the branch and hooked them over. Her skirt flopped down and exposed her bottom, covered with thin cotton panties, the indentation down the middle outlined. Then, with her legs firmly over, she gently eased back, one arm at a time, so that she hung loosely, her arms hanging down and trailing on the ground. Her shirt flopped down almost to her chin, revealing most of a plain white rounded bra, and her skirt down over her stomach. All of her panties, tight and rounded at the crotch, were easily visible. She hung there for perhaps ten seconds, and then put her hands on the ground and let go with her legs. She landed with a bit of a thump, skirt stuck up over her bottom until she shook it down, and then scrambled up, looking to me for approval. “That was great,” I praised her, smiling at her warmly and loving her for her trust. “Do you do gym?” I was sure she didn’t, as her movements were rather clumsy, but I felt I had to say something, and it shouldn’t be connected with what she had shown me. She just smiled and said, “No.” “Roy, you haven’t been a merman yet,” grinned Joy, looking at me meaningfully. “All right,” I answered, unbuckling my shorts. “He doesn’t have to,” put in Ashleigh, earnestly seeking to protect me. “No, it’s all right, I don’t mind,” I assured her, pulling my shorts off and going on to be initiated into the game, to the delight of the girls. It was at about two o’clock that the others began to get rather bored with this hill. So we decided to make our way back home, by a different route as they wanted to stop at some shops. Fiona knew the way, and we soon found ourselves walking along a rather lonely little country lane, full of dried mud and potholes, some with rainwater still in the bottom. We had wooded country on either side of us, and it was really like being out in the wilds. We had drunk quite a lot when we had lunch, and none of the girls had been to the toilet while we were on the hill, as far as I knew. So it wasn’t a surprise when Joy finally declared her need for plumbing. “There are probably some toilets at the shops,” Fiona told her. “But it’s still quite a long walk.” “You’ll just have to hold it in,” Tara told her pointedly, obviously remembering Joy’s reaction to her own predicament in the car the evening before. “I really need to go as well soon,” put in Suzanne. After about ten minutes it was clear Joy was having some difficulty. “Can’t we just go in the woods?” she asked. “I need to go as well,” said Fiona. “I don’t think anybody owns these woods, so it should be all right.” The girls quickly decided that it would be a good idea if they all went to the toilet. “Howie, you’ve been, so you and Roy wait here for us, and we’ll be back soon,” Ashleigh told her brother, making it quietly clear that the two of us were not invited. The woods were not very thick, so they would have to go quite a way in to relieve themselves in private. Howie stood watching them with mild curiosity as they wound their way through trees, occasionally looking back to check whether they were private enough. They must have walked for more than fifty metres before they were out of clear sight, although I could still see coloured clothing moving through the bushes. “Roy, how do girls do a pee-pee?” Howie asked me. “Ashleigh won’t tell me.” “They have to sit down and do it between their legs,” I told him, omitting to mention my cousin Shelley as an exception to that rule. I moved in among the trees and sat down on a log to wait for them, knowing that when girls decide to go to the toilet, they can be a very long time. Howie came and stood in front of me, resting his elbows on my knees. His fly still gaped open a little in two places, but at least I had fixed it so it held together in the middle, which saved it from gaping wide from top to bottom. He looked me in the face and then said, “Please, Roy, try and fix my zip properly.” I suspected he had an ulterior motive, so I teasingly suggested, “Okay – just take them off so I can get at it properly.” He immediately looked disappointed. “I can’t – I don’t want to do it out here,” he excused himself. “Somebody might see me. Do it now – with them on.” I reached out and took hold of the fastener in the middle, where it was still holding the fly of his shorts together. The teeth above and below had parted, giving a view of his white underpants in both places. I reached inside and fiddled with it, although I knew I would have no success. As I put my hand inside, I could feel a lump in his underpants just below the fastener. “It would help if you would get this thing out of the way,” I teased him, prodding it. He giggled. “What thing? My wee-wee, you mean?” “Well, a penis is the proper name for it,” I told him, rather tired of the silly baby-talk, although I’m sure it was his parents’ fault rather than Howie’s. “It feels funny when you touch it,” he told me with a charming grin. “I can’t help touching it if you want me to fix your zip with your shorts on,” I replied. “I don’t mind,” he grinned. I kept fiddling around with his zip, pretending I was working at it, but prodding his ‘lump’ all the time to make him giggle. I found it was most effective to give it a tiny pinch at the end of the lump, which made him wriggle and giggle. Each time I did it, the lump became a little larger and harder. After about five or six prods it was pushing its way through the gap at the bottom. I prodded it again, and suddenly he gave a gasp, doubled up and clasped his hands over his groin. “Ooh!” he gasped, suddenly looking shocked. “Did I hurt you?” I interjected, worried. He shook his head. Then he drew his hands away and looked down. The lump was still poking out through the lower hole in the fly of his shorts, but there was now a wet patch about the size of a large coin. “I think I did a pee-pee in my pants,” he muttered. Now he was the one who was worried. He put his hands up to the waist of his shorts and started pulling them down, wriggling out of them. “Ooh,” he gasped, as his lump caught in the hole. I reached out and pushed the bony little thing inside so he could get his shorts down. He pulled his shorts down to his thighs, revealing the prominent lump sticking forward at the front of his underpants. He now pulled down the front of his underpants, revealing his thin, spiky penis pointing upwards towards his chin. “I didn’t know I needed a pee-pee,” he told me seriously. “But I can’t do any more while my wee-wee – my” (I prompted him) “my penis is like this.” But already it was visibly sagging, down to the horizontal and then slowly back towards its normal size. Relieved, he moved to one side and began to water a shrub next to the log. There wasn’t much urine to come, so I presume it was just the excitement that had made him burst. When he had finished, he gravely shook his penis and held it in his hand while he asked me, “What do I do now? My underpants are too wet.” “Just take them off, then,” I suggested, not seriously, but wondering what he would say. He thought about that, and then replied, “But my – my penis would – it would stick out through the hole, maybe. People would be able to see it.” He looked as if he was about to cry. Scott, I fancy, would have had some unseemly ideas were he in this position. “Well, maybe just turn your underpants round, then, so the wet part is at the back,” I suggested. He nodded, blinked back his tears and struggled out of his shorts, following that with the removal of his underpants. They were not too different at the back from the front, so it was no great problem. He was now standing naked from the waist down right next to the road, penis hanging down, but it was deserted and he was too preoccupied to worry. He turned round his underpants and then put his shorts on again. Having done that, he turned to me again and asked with a slightly damp grin, “Please try and fix the zip again. I won’t pee-pee any more this time!” I tried to protest that I couldn’t fix it, but he insisted he wanted me to try. I felt I had already gone a bit too far, but as I wasn’t actually touching his skin I reluctantly decided to humour him again, as he needed a bit of cheering up after his accident. He giggled as I fiddled around inside again, gently scratching the end of the bulge with my forefinger as I did so. It didn’t take long for that bulge to expand. I also slipped my hand lower and could feel his wobbly little scrotum down below. A few more scratches there, and he was giggling with appreciation. Curiously, he pulled away from me, reached clumsily inside the open zip and pulled down the top of his underpants. Then he pushed his penis out through the bottom hole, where it pointed towards the sky like a little stalk. “That feels funny,” he chuckled, examining it closely. He faced me, thrust his hips forward so that his penis pointed in the direction of my nose and urged me, “Again!” That, I felt, was too much. “Look, Howie, I think that’s enough,” I told him. “I’ll tickle your tummy, but I’m not going to touch your penis. I don’t think that’s good.” He looked crestfallen. “It doesn’t matter, I like it,” he assured me. “Ashleigh’s coming back at last,” I said with some relief, observing the girls moving steadily towards us through the trees and bushes. Howie looked really guilty as his head jerked round and he tried to push his penis back inside as quickly as he could. Still stiff, it did not co-operate easily and he gave a cry of pain as it caught on the metal teeth of the zip. Finally he managed to slip it inside and pulled up his underpants again, obviously afraid Ashleigh would see what he was doing, but the girls were too far away. He sat down next to me on the log, trying to look innocent as the girls approached, but it was obvious from his bright red cheeks that he had been up to something. The girls didn’t notice, though, as they called out to us. “Roy, come and look,” Suzanne called. “Look what we’ve found.” (To be continued) THE ENGLISH EXPERIENCE (CHAPTER 10) Howie and I followed the girls away from the road and through the trees. Howie kept demanding to know what it was they had found, but they refused to tell him. It was much cooler among the trees, with the sunlight making dappled patterns on the ground and among the shrubs and ferns that grew on the forest floor and kept scratching against our legs as we made our way through them. “Are we going the right way?” asked Joy after a while, as we kept moving forward. “Yes, it’s just on the left of that fallen tree,” answered Ashleigh, pointing ahead. Still about thirty metres ahead of us, I could see where a tall tree had fallen to the forest floor, its dead branches still spreading out and making a barrier. We passed it on the left. It had clearly been there for some time, as some of the dead wood was rotten and a cluster of little green ferns had grown along the sides. “That’s where we did our wee,” said Tara with a giggle as we passed it, pointing to the shin-high ferns on the far side. No doubt they had all squatted there, hidden on one side by the dead trunk, and urinated while the ferns had tickled their bottoms. No evidence was visible now. Just on the far side of the dead tree the ground began to slope downwards. Then Ashleigh suddenly said, “Stop. Quiet.” We all stopped and were quiet. “Can you hear anything?” Ashleigh asked me, with a shy smile. We listened. No, we couldn’t actually hear anything. “Let’s go down,” said Suzanne, leading the way down the slope, still largely covered in shrubs and ferns. It was a long, gentle slope down, and we could see it before we could hear it. “A river!” exclaimed Howie. Through the trees below us we could see the surface of a gently flowing stream, perhaps two or three metres wide, dappled in the sunlight shining through the leaves. The ground was still damp as we scrambled down towards it. “We saw this after we had our wee,” Joy smiled. “Roy, do you think we can swim in it?” “Well, not in your clothes,” I answered, feeling suddenly hopeful. “You can’t get those wet.” “We can take them off,” suggested Suzanne, quite casual after the day at Studland. “We can swim in our knickers,” said Joy, more cautious. “Can’t we, Ashleigh?” She looked to the older girl for approval. Ashleigh hesitated and then nodded, and I answered, “Well, if you do, you must take them off afterwards, when we go back home. You can’t go home in wet panties.” Tara gave a giggle. “Then we’ll be wearing our short skirts in public with no knickers on,” she sniggered. “That might be dangerous!” “We’d better not play Mermaids any more,” sniggered Joy. “I’m not getting my knickers wet,” said Ashleigh, as we reached the bottom. It was slightly slippery on the damp banks of the stream, covered in moss but without ferns. “I want to swim,” announced Howie, peeling off his shirt. The girls, more sedate, squatted and began to unbuckle their shoes or sandals. More slowly still as I awaited developments, I too began to remove my sandals and then my shirt. Howie was ready first, slipping off all his clothes and slithering over on to the stream bank. “Howie,” came Ashleigh’s voice with mild reproof at the sight of his little penis bobbing up and down not far in front of her. The three sisters eyed it with interest, Joy giggling a bit. Howie stepped out into the stream, the water being deep enough to reach the top of his legs. “Ooh, it’s cold!” he exclaimed with a grin, facing us with his hands cupping his penis and testicles to protect them from the chilly water. Tara quickly joined him, wearing only her baggy white panties. She too gave a squeal at the cold. She hauled her panties up at the sides, revealing her flesh right up to the hipbone. “I don’t think I can keep my knickers dry in this,” she exclaimed. “Take them off, then,” suggested Joy, standing up in her tight pink panties which curved smoothly between her legs. I suspect she was hoping Tara would take the lead and enable her to follow. Howie was jumping down in the water with squeals of shock and glee, dipping his wrinkled little testicles into the water and then pulling up straight again, and examining them each time. “Roy, does your wee – your penis – go all small when you put it in cold water?” he asked me. I nodded, and the girls dutifully giggled. From the corner of my eye I could see Ashleigh sitting on a mound with her skirt off but pressed over her lap, while Fiona was in the act of standing up wearing only her white panties. Suzanne joined her, also wearing only her shiny white panties. “Roy, are you going to swim – naked?” she asked shyly, as I removed my shorts but left my underpants on. “I’d like to, but I don’t think it would be good manners when all the girls are wearing their panties,” I answered casually. Suzanne looked thoughtful. “If I – take my knickers off, will you do as well?” she asked. “Yes, all right,” I agreed, ready to pull down my underpants. Suddenly a thought struck Suzanne, and she turned to Ashleigh. “Will Howie – say anything if we go naked?” I heard her ask. Ashleigh clearly was uncertain how to handle this talk of swimming naked, but she shook her head. “No, he’s all right,” she answered. “Like Roy,” she added, and I suspected she did it for my benefit, possibly as a future insurance policy. Suzanne turned back to me, looking slightly embarrassed. Probably this was a little more difficult for her than the naturist beach, where we had been surrounded by others who were already naked. “Let’s,” she said. I agreed, and we pulled down our underwear together. I was glad to see Howie taking no notice of Suzanne, but he held out his hand to me from the water and said, “Roy, come and play.” I stepped forward and carefully into the water, followed by Suzanne. It felt very cold, but also so refreshing in the heat of the day. Moments later Tara and Joy had removed their panties and were also in the water. “This is colder than the sea!” exclaimed Tara. I wasn’t sure about that, but it was certainly colder than anything in my own country. “Fiona, come,” Suzanne urged her friend. “It doesn’t matter.” Fiona was standing on the bank, looking at our naked bodies and looking very indecisive. I affected no interest, concentrating on playing with Howie. “We’ll wet your knickers if you don’t take them off now, then you’ll have to take them off when we go home,” teased Joy, splashing gently in the direction of Fiona. The water came halfway up Joy’s thighs, short of her long slender vagina. Fiona moved back, and then suddenly made up her mind. She pulled down her panties, stepped out of them, and then, in shyness, bent forward at the waist with a hand over her groin, giggling. Her eyes darted towards me, so I had to keep them on Howie. Seeing I was not watching, she stood up and tiptoed over the clumps of grass and moss to the bank of the stream, still giving a nervous giggle or two. “Roy, look at Fiona,” teased Joy in a silly way, causing Fiona to move her hand more protectively over her groin and say, “No,” with another giggle. “It doesn’t matter, Joy, so don’t be silly,” I replied sharply, keeping my head away from Fiona. “It’s all right, Fiona, Roy doesn’t spy,” Suzanne assured her friend. “Help me in,” asked Fiona, stretching out her hand to Suzanne. The corner of my eye told me she was now looking at Suzanne, so I risked a quick glance. I could just see the top of Fiona’s fleshy, rounded vagina between her legs as she bent forward and slipped into the water, aided by a hand from Suzanne. “Ooh, this is cold,” squealed Fiona, splashing around. Then she squatted in the water until it came up to her waist, to cover her vagina, and fluttered out her hands by her sides. “Roy, I bet the water in your country is warmer than this.” “Yes, it is, but there aren’t so many streams there,” I told her, looking at her casually. She remained submerged from the waist down. “But we do know a couple which are very nice for swimming. There are rocks as well, so we can play on those, and sometimes the water splashes down like a waterfall.” “That sounds like fun,” burst out Tara. “I wish we had some rocks here like that.” “Do you swim naked there?” put in Howie, who was clutching his penis with one hand. “Always,” I answered. “People don’t mind there, where it’s out in the wilds, and we have a lot of beaches where people can swim naked.” “Like Studland,” put in Joy enthusiastically. She turned to Fiona. “Ooh, that was so scary, but it was so exciting. It’s the first time we ever went naked in public, but we soon got used to it.” “Come on, Ashleigh, come and swim!” called out Howie. His sister was now standing by the side of the stream, watching us rather wistfully. All she had done was to remove her skirt, so she was standing there with her top still on and her white panties, tight and smooth around the crotch. I could see the colour of her skin through the thin material, except for the crotch where there was double the material. “I may do soon,” she replied. “Take off your knickers,” Howie urged her. “Nobody’s going to look at your wee-wee.” “And your bra,” giggled Joy. I thought I should break in, with my usual reverse psychology. I had done so often enough already, but they still hadn’t lost the impulse to make silly comments. “Look, Ashleigh can do what she wants,” I told the others. “If she feels shy, that’s all right – she doesn’t have to get in the water.” Then I continued chasing Howie. About five metres further along the stream, on the far side, there was an overhanging tree, although the branches were not as horizontal as the one where we had played mermaids. “I’m going to climb that tree,” announced Howie, scrambling out and trotting over to it. It was not so easy to climb, but soon he managed to push his way along the overhanging branch. He had to do it flat on his tummy for much of the way, propelling himself by legs and arms. “It’s squashing my wee-wee – my penis,” he complained as he did so. I turned my attention to Suzanne, who was telling me something, with Fiona next to her. Fiona had now lost her inhibitions and was adding one or two things to what Suzanne was saying, standing there quite naked. Her pubic mound was prominent and the lips of her vagina wide and parted, so that the little white strip that was her clitoris was easily visible inside. Then there was a sudden yell from Howie. He had slipped on the branch, and although he was still holding on under his shoulders, the lower part of his body was hanging over the stream. His head was hidden behind the leaves, so all we could see of him was from his tummy downwards. His legs were pedalling desperately but with nothing to fasten on to, and all the time his little penis was hanging down and bobbing about. The girls could not help laughing. I splashed over to try and help him. His legs were about the height of my head, but as I reached up to grab them, he lost his grip. He tumbled down on top of me. For a split second I felt his cold, smooth little penis brushing against my cheek, and then I lost my balance and fell backwards into the stream, with Howie on top of me. The girls all squealed loudly and helplessly with laughter. Howie scrambled up and I got up with him. He was still in a bit of pain. “It hurt me,” he complained, looking downwards between his legs and cupping his hands under his genitals while he studied the area underneath. His wet white penis gleamed in a patch of sunlight, with his wrinkled little bag of testicles below. “It hurt – these.” He indicated his scrotum and obviously didn’t know the word. “Testicles,” I told him, and he repeated the new word. “Yes, that can hurt your testicles very much if you squash them or bump them.” “I did it once before,” he told me, without inhibition. “I was playing football with Ashleigh, and she kicked the ball and it hit me right in the – the testicles. It was so sore I couldn’t play for a while.” “Yes, you should have seen him lying on the lawn in a little ball,” grinned Ashleigh from the other side of the stream, looking a little guilty at the same time. “And he kept saying, ‘My wee-wee! My wee-wee!’ But he wouldn’t show me. It was an accident, though,” she hastened to add. “I don’t mind now,” boasted Howie, thrusting forward his genitals. “I’m not shy because Roy’s not shy. You’re the one who’s shy.” “It’s good not to be shy, but it’s not good to talk to other people about it like that,” I told him mildly, for Ashleigh’s benefit. “Look, Roy,” came Tara’s voice from one side and at my level. “I told you I was a tomboy.” I looked around to see her sprawled across the branch Howie had used, and pushing herself along it with much greater skill than he had shown. “I can climb it better than Howie.” “That’s because you don’t have a – you don’t have testicles to hurt you,” he retorted. “Jump into the stream, Tara,” urged Joy. “I’m going to,” Tara answered, pushing herself until she was almost above me. She pushed herself into a reclining position on the branch and slipped her legs over the side. They dangled down, rather as Howie’s had done. Her tight little vagina, which she had been so eager to hide such a short time before, was right in front of my eyes, coated with tiny little fair hairs as there was still no sign of puberty there. There was still that little crease in the middle, otherwise the labia were pressed tightly together. “Now let go,” Joy encouraged her. “I can’t see with all the leaves in the way,” gasped Tara, her head almost hidden. She tried to manoeuvre herself to a better position, but failed. “Roy, please catch me,” she begged. I grabbed hold of her legs behind her knees and held her as she let go, and I let her naked body down gently into the water. “We need to clear away the leaves first,” said Fiona. “I’ll do that.” She scrambled out and began to climb the tree. When she reached the leafy part, she sat up and started to pull off the leaves in that area, dropping them in the stream. Then she wobbled. “Ooh, Roy, please hold my legs,” she asked me. I was only too happy to do so. She had her legs on either side of the branch, so I held them apart, one in each hand. Looking up and making the occasional comment to guide her as to which leaves to remove, I could see her vagina just above my eyes. Fiona had one of the most exciting, widest, juiciest vaginas I have seen. It was still almost hairless, although there were a few tiny darker hairs just beginning to grow at the top. It opened immediately, revealing the walls of the labia, a slightly darker pink and glistening with moisture. Below the clitoris there were pink folds of skin, also moist. I could have put up a hand and touched her there without any trouble at all – just like the boy who had felt her panties up her skirt at the dance. But I would never do that to a girl. At the same time I was conscious, from the corner of my eye, of Ashleigh on the farther bank, removing her shirt. I could see the white of her bra but did not look directly. I wondered if she would go any further, but she seemed to decide that was enough for the time being. Fiona soon cleared the leaves so she could see the stream below her. Her courage almost failed her, but eventually she dangled from the branch and let go. She landed with a splash in the stream and squealed with delight. The others then wanted a turn as well. They would climb the tree (“It feels rough between my legs,” commented Joy) and then let go to land in the water. Fiona, on her second turn, was the first simply to sit on the branch and plunge all the way down, rather than do it in two stages by dangling first. Howie still wanted me to catch him, but I suspect that was more for the attention, and so he could rub his penis against my skin. Ashleigh waded into the stream in her white bra and panties, but did not come too close, wanting to keep herself dry. Then suddenly, as Fiona was about to have another turn, Ashleigh gave a gasp. “There’s somebody coming!” she exclaimed. We all looked up the slope above and behind us, as Ashleigh was pointing. Through the leaves of the trees we could see two figures making their way along the top of the bank in our direction. “It’s all right, it’s a girl,” said Joy. I could make out the head of a girl, with long black hair, through the leaves. Behind her was another dark head, but the owner was not so tall, so I could see nothing more than the very top. “It’s Karen, she’s a girl from school,” gasped Suzanne. “Her brother Donald is in my class, and that must be him with her. Quick, Roy! Can you stop them from coming?” Filled with panic and afraid they would see her if she left the water, she moved back and sat down hurriedly in the water, back to the bank. Ashleigh grabbed her blouse and skirt, and began to dress frantically, trying to hide behind a tree. Fiona dropped from the branch and landed with a splash in the water, which made the girl’s head turn round and look. “She’s seen us!” exclaimed Suzanne. “Donald will see us as well. He – he’s a nice boy, but I don’t want him to see me now. Please, Roy, go and stop them!” “All right, I’ll try,” I answered. “Just stay where you are. They won’t be able to see us as well through the trees as we can see them.” I waded to the bank and began to scramble up the slope towards the pair. Then I realised it might not be wise for an older teenage boy suddenly to appear naked in front of them, so I grabbed my shirt. I had no time to dress, but would hold it in front of me while I spoke to them. I managed to arrive at the top just before they did. There was a tall girl aged 13, I later found out, with long black hair tied back over her shoulders, and dark brown eyes. Her brother was Suzanne’s age but taller than she. He also had black hair, but his eyes were blue. He looked a pleasant, sensible boy. Both had towels over their shoulders. They must have had seen me scrambling up towards them, and they looked at me with surprised smiles. “Hello,” I greeted them breathlessly, and they responded. I tried to hold my shirt casually over my genitals, but knew they must have seen them when I reached the top of the slope. I didn’t mind, of course, but I was afraid I might have offended the girl – Karen, Suzanne had said. She didn’t look offended, but rather pleased to see me. “Sorry, we’re just swimming in the stream,” I blurted out. In that situation it might have been best to ask them to allow us five minutes in private to dress and leave, but I was reluctant to draw our swim to a sudden close just when everything was going so well, and just when I felt Ashleigh was slowly preparing to join us. I hesitated, not knowing what else to say, but Karen was beaming. “We’re so glad to find some other swimmers here,” she smiled at me. “Please may we join you?” “Well, I – don’t know,” I tried to explain. “I don’t – the girls I think would rather swim in private.” Again I searched for words, glad I only had to explain it to younger kids rather than adults and could get heavy with them if necessary. “I know Suzanne,” put in Donald eagerly. “She’s in my class. She won’t mind.” Obviously he had seen more through the trees than I had thought, and I suddenly became bothered that this situation might cause difficulties for Suzanne. “She might, Donald, when she doesn’t have her clothes on,” Karen answered him. “She may not really be a naturist.” “A naturist?” I answered, suddenly feeling more hopeful. “Are you naturists, then?” “Oh, yes,” she answered proudly, and they both nodded, with beaming smiles. “We’re quite new to it, really. We’ve been over to stay with our cousins in America, and they took us to a naturist beach – well, a CO beach, clothing optional, they call it over there.” “They’re all girls, and they’re teenagers, and they don’t mind at all,” grinned Donald. “Well, you’ve got used to it very quickly, then,” I replied, playing for time. “We did do it sometimes before, but only in the stream here where it’s private,” said Karen. “So as soon as we got back we wanted to do it again, and we’re so pleased to find you here.” By now I had slung my shirt over my shoulder, wondering what their reaction would be. They didn’t even seem to notice, and did not even glance down my body. “I’m not sure if – the girls would agree,” I replied. “They’re not really used to it and they’re a bit shy.” “They’re shy of you, Donald,” Karen grinned at her brother. “You’ve been to school with her since first grade and she doesn’t want you to see her naked for the first time.” “I don’t mind her seeing me,” Donald answered, shrugging his shoulders. At that moment there was a scrambling just behind me, and Howie appeared at the top of the slope. His face, tummy and penis were all smeared with blackish mud, so he looked rather a sight. Hurriedly I glanced down at myself. In my haste climbing the slope I too had my stomach and genitals partly muddied. “Hello, I’m Howie,” he greeted them with a big smile. “Are you coming to swim with us?” Karen laughed. “We hope so, but – this guy says the girls may not want us to come.” “Oh, it’ll be all right. Just come,” Howie urged them. “And his name’s Roy.” “I’ll go and check with them,” I told Karen and Donald. “Can you wait here a couple of minutes?” I grinned at Donald. “It might help if you keep out of sight as much as possible!” I scrambled back down the bank and straight over to the stream, where I washed myself as I addressed the girls. Ashleigh was now primly dressed again, while the others were half-submerged in the water with only their heads and shoulders sticking out. “Yes, it’s Karen and Donald,” I told them. “Suzanne, did you know they were naturists as well?” Suzanne looked surprised. “No,” was all she said. “They were coming to swim naked too, and Karen says she’s very pleased we’re here so she can swim with us,” I continued. “I’m sure Donald is safe and won’t cause any problems – he seemed quite disappointed when I told him you might not want him to. Like I said, they’re naturists, so he won’t be interested in looking at your body or anything. I’m sure you can trust him.” This time it was Tara and Joy who looked willing to trust him, while Suzanne, no doubt because she had known Donald for so long in the textile world, looked very doubtful. Fiona looked indecisive, so I tackled her. “I’m sure Donald won’t do any harm, don’t you?” I asked her. She still looked uncertain but, “All right,” she whispered. Suzanne still wasn’t happy. “I – maybe, but – I’d rather not,” she muttered. I could understand her reluctance, after so many years of knowing Donald and just reaching puberty herself, to allow him to see her body. “Well, I’m afraid we’ll have to go then, because we can’t stop them from swimming here just because we’re shy of them seeing us,” I answered. “I’d have to ask them to go away for a few minutes, while we change and get out of here.” “No, I want to stay here longer,” put in Fiona, amid groans from the others. “I know Donald,” put in Joy. “He’s nice and, Suzanne, if he sees us, you’ll also see him. You’ll see his penis. Have you ever seen it before?” “Roy, do you think he’s hairy?” Tara wanted to know, and I indicated I didn’t know. Ashleigh didn’t contribute, and as she wasn’t swimming I didn’t ask her. It was hard to tell if this was the thought that finally won Suzanne over, but thinking about it later I’d say it probably was, together with a reluctance to leave this delightful cool place. Finally, with a rather strained face, she said reluctantly, “All right, they can come.” I scrambled back up the slope, hearing a hushed and excited murmur behind me from the girls, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. At the top I found Karen and Donald had obligingly moved out of sight, along with Howie, who was chattering excitedly to them. “They’re pretty shy, but they’ve agreed,” I told them, and was rewarded with beaming smiles. Howie gave a whoop and shot off back down the slope, slithering and sliding and getting mud all over his bare bottom now. I followed, ahead of the two newcomers, hoping that would give confidence to the shy girls in the stream. “Hi, Suzanne!” I heard Donald greet her cheerfully from behind me. “We just got back from America yesterday. Chris told me we missed a dance last week. Next time I’ll take you, okay?” Suzanne forced a smile and tried to be friendly, but it was pretty artificial. She was sitting against the far bank, with water up to her shoulders. It was possible to see the colour and general outline of her body through the clear water, but no detail. She was taking no chances, though, and I could make out one hand pressed to her chest and the other floating around over her groin area, while she had her knees up. The other girls, apart from Ashleigh, were also sitting in the water, keeping most of their bodies below the surface. They all looked most embarrassed and awkward. For a change, Tara and Joy were the most natural, but then they hadn’t known Donald for years as Suzanne and Fiona had. Karen was wearing a T-shirt and a blue denim skirt. She joined in the conversation with the girls, putting her arms up and peeling off her shirt, to reveal a fair-sized and quite well-filled bra underneath. That came off, revealing well-rounded breasts with a touch of sunburn, and large pink nipples. Then she unbuttoned her skirt and slipped it down. Her panties were white and silky, transparent down the sides. Donald was a most impressive naturist, undressing as he continued to chat to Suzanne and Fiona. Off came his shirt, and then his shorts. He was wearing dark blue underpants, which he peeled off with no inhibition right in front of Suzanne. His penis was really small for a tall boy, sitting on top of small testicles, and there was not a trace of hair yet. Suzanne was trying to respond to him with a forced smile, while Fiona looked quite shocked to see Donald’s penis after knowing him for so long only with his clothes on. Tara and Joy did not even try to hide their fascination, as they stared at it without shame and whispered together. Donald didn’t seem to notice at all. Karen had now removed her panties, revealing a long strip of pubic hair that looked strange to me, thick and curly so her vagina was invisible as she was standing there. She stepped forward, quite naked now, and tested the water with its foot. “Ooh, that’s freezing!” she laughed. Donald turned to her, grinning broadly, and said, “Come on, Karen, tell Suzanne about your racing stripe. I know you can’t wait to do that!” Karen turned to him with mock indignation. “Shut up, Donald,” she scolded him with a wide grin. “You’ll have to tell her about your penis as well, because it’s so small nobody can see it.” “It’s bigger than what you’ve got,” grinned Donald, stepping into the water with a gasp. It came up to his thighs, and his penis was still above water level, little more than a metre from Suzanne, who kept glancing at it briefly through curiosity and then looking away guiltily. “Come on, Karen, show off your racing stripe.” It was all very good-natured teasing, and they didn’t seem to mind at all or feel too shy to get involved in such intimate joking in front of the girls. “What’s a racing stripe?” asked Fiona, quite puzzled. Karen indicated her groin. “In America a lot of the girls wear very narrow bikini bottoms where the sides go up like this,” she said, drawing with her fingers almost vertically upwards from the sides of her vaginal area. “But if you do that, your pubic hair sticks out at the sides. So they shave their hair off, like this” - she indicated the vertical sides of her pubic hair – “and it leaves this long strip. They call it a racing stripe, like racing drivers wear on their helmets.” Howie came up and had a close look, drawing objections from the other girls and an indignant reproof from Ashleigh. Karen laughed. “Oh, I don’t mind,” she said gaily. “He’s just curious.” “I told you she wanted to show everybody,” grinned Donald mischievously. “We’re taking her to the newspaper tomorrow so they can put a photo in the paper.” She aimed a slap at him, but was still grinning. “And we’re taking you to the science laboratory so they can give you a microscope to help you find your penis,” she retorted. “I don’t mind,” grinned Donald. He turned to Suzanne and said, “I know it’s small but I don’t mind. It’ll grow one day soon.” “I know a kid back home who’s ten and has a very small penis,” I told him. “He went and bought a T-shirt especially, saying ‘Small is beautiful’.” Donald laughed. “I’ll have to try that,” he said. “Hey, Suzanne, Fiona, you won’t tell the girls at school about this, will you? I don’t want to have to go down into the bushes to show them all.” He was still joking light-heartedly. Suzanne seemed quite dumbfounded by his lack of inhibition. Thinking about it now, I suppose he did feel a little embarrassed, as perhaps did Karen as well, and all the joking talk was a cover for it. “I’m going to get a racing stripe when I grow up,” announced Howie, thrusting his loins forward with his own little penis sticking out and causing laughter all round. “My wee-wee – my penis is bigger than yours, Donald.” “No, it isn’t,” countered Donald, stepping forward so they could compare. “Roy, whose is bigger?” asked Howie, calling on me as referee. “They’re both about the same,” I answered. “But I don’t think it’s very good manners, Howie.” I sensed Donald at least was feeling slightly self-conscious, although he tried to hide it. Actually when both were in the same state I think Howie’s penis would have been longer, but he had immersed it in the cold water and it had shrunk – in fact, his testicles had contracted completely into a tiny little tight pink ball. His penis was thinner, perhaps, with a little bump on the end where the foreskin covered the prepuce. Donald’s penis looked to be a regular tapering shape, hanging out over his testicles at an angle of about 45 degrees and closing fairly sharply at the end. “Oh, Donald, Howie’s is longer than yours,” grinned Karen, teasing again. “It doesn’t matter,” he grinned, with a shrug. “I’ll reach puberty next year and then I’ll shoot ahead.” Tara and Joy had now emerged from the water and were standing nearby, trying unsuccessfully not to look interested in what was going on. I thought the conversation, if not deliberately obscene, was a little dangerous, so I tried to change the subject. “So, Donald, whereabouts in America did you go?” Donald seemed to think I was referring to the CO beach. “It’s on Long Island near New York,” he said. “Our cousins are aged 19, 17 and 14, so we’re older than we are, and they took us.” “Boy, you should have seen Donald’s face when they stripped off,” laughed Karen, standing in the water and sprinkling it over her bare body. “He’d never seen them naked before, and suddenly they were down to their underwear and then naked! He just stared!” “Well, they didn’t mind,” broke in Donald. “We just weren’t used to it. And then we went to Fay’s flat – she’s the one who’s 19 – and we all took our clothes off with some of her friends and had a naked party. They were mostly girls.” “Some of them were a bit rude, actually,” Karen said. I noticed Fiona had now stood up and joined the group so she could hear better. “One of them took a photo of Donald’s penis because she said it was the cutest little one she had ever seen. She tried to tie a ribbon on it, but it wouldn’t stay on because his penis is too tiny.” “I’m famous now,” boasted Donald, grinning widely. “I’m a male model.” But I did notice he was half-turned away as if he didn’t relish the conversation altogether. I wanted the girls to feel free to be naked, but I didn’t want them preoccupied with nudity. I liked Karen and Donald, but they were obviously much further along the road than the girls with me, so again I tried to cut this line of conversation short. “Come on, Howie, show us how you do it,” I called, seeing Howie climbing his tree again, and they all turned round. “Have you ever done that when you’ve played here?” I asked Karen and Donald, wading over to give Howie a hand when he wanted to jump. “No, we usually play further up where the water is deeper,” answered Karen. “We can take you there if you like.” Fiona was already following Howie up the tree trunk for her turn. From the corner of my eye I could see Suzanne, now everybody’s back was to her, shyly stand up and wade quietly after us. Ashleigh had found somewhere dry to sit on the bank and was watching us rather miserably. As I caught Howie, Donald climbed out of the stream and followed Fiona up the branch. Her bottom, with legs spread as she edged along on her tummy, was just in front of him, but he didn’t seem to pay any attention. He found a better way – or so he thought – edging along on his knees. It needed a good sense of balance. He also needed a branch supplying him with a little more friction. He was halfway along, and Fiona was ready to jump, when suddenly one of his knees slipped and fell to one side. He landed with a bang on the branch, one knee either side. He let out a tremendous shriek of pain and tumbled off the branch, landing in the water near me. I stepped forward quickly and pulled him up. He was bent double, yelling with pain. As Karen came to help me, I dragged him over to the bank and sat him down. “What happened?” asked Suzanne anxiously, joining the circle around the wounded soldier and standing there naked. “He must have landed on his testicles,” answered Karen, bending over her brother. Donald was at last beginning to recover. “Ooh, that was so sore!” he gasped, sitting up with his face white. He put his hand under his testicles and lifted them up to check they were still there. They certainly were a bright red colour now. “Oh, poor little things, let me kiss them better,” teased Karen, putting her head down and puckering her lips in pretence. “You do that and I’ll wee in your face,” spluttered Donald, giving a weak grin. He seemed remarkably unconcerned for his genitals to be the centre of attention of a group of watching girls – on the outside, at least. But I did sense that inside he felt a little uncomfortable about it all, as would be natural. “It looks very red,” said Joy primly, inspecting the area in question. “It’ll get better, it’s just sore now,” sighed Donald, pushing himself to his feet. “Ooh, right in the balls.” It was clearly painful to move, but even naturists have their limits as to how closely they want their assets examined. “It’s a good thing they’re so small,” grinned Karen. “If they were as big as Bernie’s, they’d have burst all over the branch.” Bernie, I discovered later, was their cousin Fay’s boyfriend who had long loose red dangling testicles. At about this point Karen walked over to Ashleigh on the bank and began to talk to her, although I couldn’t hear what she was saying with the gentle noise of the stream and the less gentle voices of the others. Donald, trying to show he wasn’t sore, had another go at climbing the tree, this time contenting himself with crawling along the branch like the others. I casually splashed around with Howie, but from the corner of my eye I could see Ashleigh stand up. She hesitated, and then slipped off her skirt. Her shirt followed, and she stood there in her bra and panties, slightly crouched as if wishing she could hide it all. Then she reached up and began to pull off her bra. “Hooray, Ashleigh’s coming in!” cheered Howie, who had seen her. “Look, Roy, Ashleigh’s coming in!” I had to behave naturally, so I turned my head, caught a glimpse of Ashleigh staring at us and looking embarrassed, nodded my head and then gave Howie a gentle push that almost knocked him over, all in fun. I hoped Howie’s intervention wouldn’t put her off. >From the corner of my eye I saw Ashleigh suddenly bend over and pull down her panties. She stepped out of them and then walked with Karen to the bank of the stream. When I sensed she wasn’t looking in my direction, I had a quick glance. It was just at the moment when she turned away and slid herself into the water. I caught a glimpse of a small, slightly rounded breast and, between her legs, that dark pink area of her perineum. Howie splashed eagerly over to her, taking no notice of her nakedness, so I suppose he must have seen in now and then at home. He splashed her, and she turned and splashed him in return. The water came up to her thighs, so I could now see her two small rounded breasts, perfect in shape, with the pink nipples apparent but not too prominent in the middle. Her vagina curved between her legs, with a thin line of hair at the top. She looked up at me, but her eyes were elsewhere. Then she asked me, “Roy, what time is it, please?” When I turned to reply that it was almost four o’clock, she had her side to me, rather defensively, but turned a little to thank me. Again I noted the phenomenon of girls when naked before me for the first time speaking to me or asking me a question that obliged me to look at them. I have never been quite sure whether it has been to indicate trust, or as a means of relieving the pressure caused by embarrassment. We played together for the next few minutes, and then Karen said, “Let’s go to our usual place now. It’s just a bit further upstream. We’ll take you there.” “All right,” I agreed, splashing over to the side. “Come on, everybody, we’re going to Karen and Donald’s usual place. Grab your clothes.” “Oh, they’ll be all right here,” Karen assured us. “Nobody ever comes.” “I think we should take them anyway,” I said, climbing out and collecting mine. “If somebody did come here and take them, we’d be in a real mess without clothes, wouldn’t we?” There was some nervous mild giggling as the others considered the possibilities. “We’d have to walk back home wearing nothing but our pussies,” giggled Tara. “Or our penises, for the boys,” added Joy. “But I’m sure Donald doesn’t mind.” She was just teasing again. “We can’t go everywhere naked,” answered Donald, grinning. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could?” chattered Tara, as we made our way upstream along the rough river bank. “We’d see everybody naked then. All the boys in our class.” “And the teachers,” giggled Joy, eyes open wide with a slightly fearful wonder at the possibility. “Come on, that’s silly talk,” I grinned at them. “It will never happen, so we just have to enjoy times like this when we can do it with friends.” “I never thought I’d do it with you, Donald,” I heard Suzanne say quietly as they walked together. She held her clothes against her side and wasn’t trying to cover herself at all, but I could sense a touch of embarrassment – probably due to both the subject and also through saying something personal to a boy, always a major step at that age, as I well remember. “Neither did I, but I – I knew you were somebody I could trust,” answered Donald, and I sensed the same sort of awkwardness. Ashleigh had climbed out as well, and after all her hesitation earlier on she seemed pretty unconcerned about her body now. Perhaps my words had had a positive effect, but it had taken Karen’s example and quiet urging to complete the job. I took the chance to study her vagina from closer quarters. It was just parted enough to give the smallest glimpse of her clitoris, and there was a narrowing ridge of little dark hairs vertically upwards from the top. Smaller dark hairs, I could see, were forming along the sides. It must have taken us five or ten minutes to reach the spot Karen had mentioned. At her direction we put our clothes down on the bank. Here the main stream had narrowed but there was an inlet with sloping banks, and the water was clearly deeper in the middle. It was also calmer, as just a little water flowed in and out so it was not stagnant, but there was no real current as there had been in our place. Karen dropped her clothes by the side and waded in. It was about two or three metres wide, and in two steps the water came up to her knees, and then almost up to her hips, just covering her pubic area, although I could see her racing stripe easily below the surface. Within moments we were all splashing around happily in it, although one end was rather shallow, so we hadn’t too much room. There was quite a lot of physical contact at times and I must say it was a pleasure to rub my bare skin against Ashleigh’s several times. Each time she looked at me with his big brown eyes and smiled. Then Donald said, “Watch what I can do.” He moved some of us back a bit and then plunged beneath the surface of the water. His legs came kicking out of the water as he stood on his hands. His genitals were just above the water line, small and neat. There were giggles and murmurs of appreciation from the two youngest girls, while Suzanne stared as if she still couldn’t quite believe it. When he came up, grinning, Joy cried out, “Roy can do it better than that! Come on, Roy, show him your trick.” “Well, it’s not better, it’s just different,” I replied. I plunged under the water and thrust my legs up. All around me I could see legs through the water, with Karen’s racing stripe prominent. I pointed my legs upright and then spread them wide, accidentally knocking somebody’s shoulder as I did so. I held the pose, wondering how many of them were giggling. Then I came up, pausing for a moment to identify Ashleigh’s sweet vagina, which had its little new-grown hairs floating gently in the water. “Hey, that’s a good trick,” I heard Donald say as soon as I could hear again. “Let me try that.” He plunged under the surface, pointed and then spread his legs wide. The dark pink triangle of loose skin between the legs, which in boys also includes the testicles, was almost under my nose. His little penis, upside down, stuck out briefly. At that moment Howie said to me, “Roy, when you were under the water Joy pretended she was going to tickle your wee-wee.” Joy exploded at him, and at the same time Donald came up. “Hey, that was fun,” he grinned, panting for breath. “Can you do that, Karen?” “I bet I can,” she said, and immediately plunged under the water. There was a stirring and a splashing, causing us to back away, before she thrust her sturdy legs up. The front was towards me, and she opened her legs to reveal a huge red patch the shape of an African war shield, with her wide pink vagina running through the middle. At the top end it gaped wider to reveal a pink clitoris, looking like a stalk, through the covering of black hair that formed her racing stripe. There were gasps from the girls, who had not seen an adolescent vagina in this pose before. The two younger ones looked hugely fascinated. Karen came to the surface, laughing. “Oh, that felt funny, I nearly overbalanced,” she laughed. “Come on, Ashleigh, you try it.” Ashleigh looked rather taken aback and shook her head. But it only took a moment’s persuasion from Karen before she grinned shyly and plunged into the water. Her legs came up rather unsteadily and parted. Her vagina spread and her white clitoris stuck out almost like a little knob. The little dark hairs coated the sides lightly and then thickened a little as they spread upwards. I felt amazed that this girl who had been so shy less than an hour before was now willing to show us all she had. Ashleigh came up looking a little embarrassed, and immediately performed the usual girls’ trick (well, all right, boys’ as well, I suppose) after doing something dubious by persuading somebody else to do it. “Come on, Fiona, you try it,” she urged her cousin. “I don’t think I can,” murmured Fiona, looking apprehensive. “My legs would fall over.” “Get Roy to catch you,” advised Suzanne helpfully – helpful to both Fiona and myself. “Look, I’ll show you.” So saying, she plunged in herself and parted her legs, giving me another view of that delightful slim vagina and its inside workings that I loved so much. This gave Fiona confidence, and I cannot deny my interest in seeing what she had to offer when she opened her legs. Her vagina was not unduly long, but as she spread her legs it opened wide and deep. Her clitoris almost hung out like a tiny penis. Beneath it were those delightful glistening pink folds of skin, just below my eyes, and I could have feasted on them for ever. The English Experience was certainly some experience for me, I mused, as Fiona came up again and Howie began clamouring for a turn with me. Never before had I enjoyed so much intimacy with the secret workings of young girls in an innocent situation, and never before, I felt, had I been trusted so much with their intimate secrets. The memory of their trust will stay with me all my life. (To be continued) THE ENGLISH EXPERIENCE (CHAPTER 11) Monday was to be my last full day in England before flying back home. Pam, after her weekend’s rest, was feeling limp but ready to return to work. She was very apologetic about supposedly spoiling my weekend, but I had been very happy with the adjustments that we had made. It may sound unkind, but I had a far more enjoyable time with the girls to myself and without the parents. Now Frank and Pam both had to go to work, for which they were also apologetic. They tried to make a suggestion or two as to what I could do, but the girls were adamant. They had secret plans for me. The parents were doubtful, but I assured them that I was very happy to fit in with the girls’ wishes. After their parents had gone, the girls ushered me into Suzanne’s bedroom. Tara disappeared downstairs somewhere to ‘make arrangements’, I was told mysteriously, and she took Michelle with her, while the other two talked to me and showed me photos and their collection of posters and everything else they could find to try and distract me. They also kept me away from the window. It was warm inside and I would have preferred to be outside, but I had an idea what was intended, and that could not be done outside. After a few minutes I could hear voices downstairs. I was sure I recognized Paula’s voice, and Tara hushing her urgently. Only a couple of minutes after that I heard more voices, although these ones were not so friendly. There had been no sound of the doorbell for either Paula or the newcomers, so I presumed that Tara was expecting them and had been waiting by the door to make sure they didn’t ring and alert me. I pretended to hear nothing, although it was clear that Suzanne and Joy did. There seemed to be some sort of argument downstairs, and I could hear raised voices at times, with Tara trying to keep things quiet again. It seemed no agreement could be reached, as the voices grew louder at times. Suzanne and Joy looked uncomfortable and tried to distract me further. But eventually I heard Tara’s angry voice at the foot of the stairs, “Just wait! I’ll get Roy and he’ll make you go!” Tara’s footsteps pattered noisily up the stairs and she burst into the bedroom, looking flushed and angry. “Suzanne, I can’t help it,” she said. “Samantha’s come, and she’s brought Gina and a friend with her, and Gina won’t go away. Roy, please come down and tell them to go. And she says if we send her away, she’ll tell what we’re doing.” I could guess what they planned to do, with Paula and Samantha present. Suzanne looked cross and frustrated. “She would try and spoil everything,” she fumed. “Roy, we were trying to arrange a surprise for you and now Gina’s trying to spoil it.” “Tell her we’re not going to do it after all,” burst out Joy. “We’ve changed our plans.” “Please, Roy, can you help with Gina?” asked Tara. Reluctantly I followed the others downstairs. They were all looking pretty angry, apart from Michelle, who didn’t seem to mind. At the front door we found Samantha, looking very unhappy, Gina, looking defiant, and another girl, quite tall, with shortish dark hair and big brown eyes. Gina was wearing a loose white blouse that revealed her bra through it and a white skirt rather like a tennis dress that flounced out. I wondered how long it would be before she decided to show me her panties. At least she wasn’t wearing any make-up. Her friend wore a red top almost like a vest and a short black skirt. “Hello, Roy, this is my friend Mona,” said Gina, smiling sweetly. Mona smiled rather nervously, looking embarrassed about the fuss over their presence. “We wanted to say goodbye to you and to ask if we could take part this morning.” “It wasn’t my fault,” put in Samantha urgently. “She heard you on the phone, Suzanne, I didn’t tell her anything, I promise. She said she was going to come as well and I couldn’t stop her.” “I was only going to ask if we could join in,” said Gina sweetly. “Roy, please may we do that?” “You said you’d tell what we were doing if we didn’t let you join,” accused Tara. There was an explosion of anger from the others, and Gina started arguing back loudly, so I stopped them immediately. “Look, we need to talk about this,” I said. “Gina, can you come outside, please. The rest of you, stay here.” Gina followed me out of the front door, looking rather guilty. Mona followed, looking embarrassed. I shut the door behind us and led the way to two little benches facing each other in the front garden. I sat down on one and Gina sat opposite. Mona sat down next to her, and I caught a glimpse of pink panties under her black skirt as she crossed her legs. There was also something a darker red, but I couldn’t make out what it was. “Gina, wouldn’t it have been good manners to phone ahead and ask if you could come?” I began. “But they would have said no, and I did want to say goodbye to you,” replied Gina, her eyes filling with tears. I suspected it was more good acting than anything else. “But you threatened to tell what everyone was doing if they didn’t let you join in,” I reminded her. “That was only – when Tara was rude to me,” Gina excused herself. “I didn’t really mean it.” “And are you going to join in properly and do everything that Suzanne wants you to?” I asked her. Gina nodded firmly. “I don’t mind – you seeing me,” she smiled self-consciously, confirming my suspicions about the nature of the activities. “Is Mona going to take part as well?” I asked. Mona looked embarrassed, squeezed her legs more tightly together and forced a smile. Gina looked uncertain and said, “Well, she doesn’t have to, but she’s very good at ballet and she can give us all sorts of ideas. I thought Suzanne would be pleased for her to join in.” She looked pleadingly at me, at the same time adjusting her blouse to give a glimpse of her bra inside. “Roy, please would you talk to Suzanne – and the others? We promise we’ll do everything properly with them and not argue.” “Mona, I didn’t see you at the dance last week,” I said. “I was away,” she murmured, looking at me shyly out of the corner of her big brown eyes. “We went to France. We got back on Saturday.” In normal circumstances I might have decided differently, but my desire to see Gina perform was a bit too strong. Mona also might be persuaded . . . I would do what I could. I told her so and made my way back to the house, well aware that all the girls had been watching closely from behind the lace curtains in the window. I went back inside, to see the girls looking rather concerned that Gina and Mona were not heading off down the road. “Are they going?” Tara queried anxiously. “If I tell them to go, they’ll have to go,” I replied, wondering if I really carried that much clout. “But I think they really want to join in properly. Gina could have told me what you were doing and given away the secret, but she didn’t. What’s Mona like?” “She’s – quite nice,” volunteered Suzanne. “We don’t want them,” put in Tara crossly. “They’ve no right to push in like that.” “Well, if you want me to send them away I can do that, but then Gina might tell people what you’re doing – whatever that is,” I answered carefully. “Would that be a problem?” There were cries of outrage from the girls and Suzanne said, “We want to keep it a secret.” I quietened the other girls and said, “It’s your show, so you can decide, but right now I think it’s a good idea to try letting Gina and Mona join in. Gina says she wants to say goodbye to me, so I don’t think she’ll cause trouble in case I send her away. And if Mona’s quite nice, it shouldn’t be a problem. Gina says Mona is good at ballet, so she can give you some ideas if you like.” “Is Mona going to dance – I mean, is Mona going – going to join in with us as well?” asked Tara, trying to cover her confusion. “I don’t think so, but she wants to help,” I answered. “Mona must join in as well,” burst out Joy. “It’s for everyone to take part. If she doesn’t want to join in, she must go.” “All right, I’ll see what I can do,” I said, turning for the door before they changed their minds. They were still trying to discuss it as I went outside. “Roy, they must agree I’m in charge of it,” Suzanne called after me, in a voice Gina and Mona must have heard. I went back to my place on the bench. Gina carefully raised a leg to pull her sock, giving me a glimpse of delicate white panties under her bouncy little skirt, no doubt an encouragement of what to expect if she were allowed to stay. “I think it will be all right, but they want certain conditions,” I told them. “It’s only fair that Suzanne is in charge and you must do things the way she wants without arguing, even if you think she’s not being fair. Remember, it’s the last time I’ll see you, so I want to have good memories of you.” Gina nodded solemnly, and then asked, “Will you – write to me when you get back home? I’ll write to you. Please?” I pretended to think carefully. “Well, I’m very busy, so it isn’t easy for me to write,” I answered. “But if you can do a good job today and get on well with Suzanne and the others, then I’ll do it, I promise. As long as you write first.” “Thank you, Roy,” beamed Gina, and moved towards me. I knew she was about to kiss me, so I held up a hand and said, “Wait. Wait till you go home – if you do it now, the other girls will be jealous and think you’re trying to show off to them, because I bet they’re watching.” Fortunately Gina saw sense. She nodded and, stretching out a hand to her friend, said, “Come on, Mona, let’s go.” “There’s just one more condition,” I told her. “The girls say everybody must join in, so they say that if they let Mona come, she must join in too.” Mona suddenly looked rather shocked and frightened, and shook her head. “Oh, come on, Mona, it doesn’t matter,” Gina told her. “Look, I’m going to do it, so you can as well. And Roy’s going to do it.” Mona didn’t seem the arguing type, so she clammed up, sitting there on the bench hunched up with her arms folded tightly and unhappily. “The girls would like to have you, Mona, and get your ideas, but they want everybody to take part,” I said. “But don’t do it if you’re not happy.” “Come on, Mona, you’ve been to France, everybody goes naked there,” Gina encouraged her. “They don’t,” whispered Mona. “On the beach, anyway,” Gina insisted. “Didn’t you go to the beach?” “They have different beaches in France,” I put in. “We always go to the naturist beach, but there are textile ones as well.” “Well, come on, Mona, what did they wear on the beach?” Gina wanted to know. “Swimming costumes and bikinis, like us,” answered Mona. “But some of the girls went topless. They did have a naturist section, but I didn’t go there.” “Did you go topless?” Gina asked, laughing at her. Again Mona looked very embarrassed. “I tried, but – I tried once,” she answered quietly, looking down. “It felt – so strange.” “Here you’re going to be inside the house and everybody else will be naked too, bare bums and all,” Gina assured her. “So will Roy. You don’t have to worry about Roy, because he hates wearing clothes and he’s used to it – naked girls and all.” She giggled. “Look, Mona, you don’t have to,” I told her quietly, catching her eyes and looking into them. “If you’re too shy and you’d rather go home, I’ll understand, and I’m sure the other girls will too. I’m just sorry you don’t feel good about it.” Again my reverse psychology seemed to work. Mona gulped, and then looked nervously at Gina. “I – don’t know how I’ll feel about it,” she whispered. I acted very casual again. “Well, if you like, go in with Gina, and then if you feel bad when the time comes, you can just go home and nobody will worry,” I suggested cunningly, feeling sure that peer pressure would win her over. Mona didn’t look like the sort of girl to make waves. “But you can understand the other girls, I hope – they want to do it all together, and they want you to join in, but they’d feel uncomfortable if you weren’t one of them. So maybe if you just go and see how you feel, and come out if you still don’t feel good.” “Come on, Mona, give it a try,” urged Gina, a bit more forcefully. Mona hesitated, and then whispered tremulously, “All right, I’ll try.” She uncrossed her legs, again giving me an unintentional flash of her pink panties, and stood up next to Gina. “Just let me go first, and I’ll tell the girls you’ve agreed,” I said, returning to the house. Again the girls were all crowded at the front door, apart from Michelle, who had disappeared somewhere, bored. “Are they going to behave?” Joy wanted to know. I nodded. “They’ve agreed,” I told them. “But I’m a bit worried that it might not work, because you might be a bit bossy, and if there’s an argument we won’t be able to do the show because there would be trouble.” “We’ll do it properly if *they* do,” said Tara firmly, and the others nodded. “What about Mona?” asked Joy. “She’s rather shy, so can you be kind to her so she feels good about joining in?” I asked. “But are they going to do what *I* say?” Suzanne insisted. “They’ve agreed, but can you make it work?” I asked her. “You need to talk about things with them instead of telling them what to do, or they may get cross and that’s the end of the show.” There was a bit more discussion on this, and finally we reached agreement, with everybody keen to co-operate – or appearing so. I went out to Gina and Mona to invite them in, both looking a little wary after a rather long wait. There was a sort of guarded friendliness between the two sides when they met. “Suzanne, I know you’re the boss, so that’s all right, I’m not going to argue,” Gina said firmly rather than warmly. Suzanne looked at me. “Roy, we need a dress rehearsal,” she said, bringing muffled giggles from some of the other girls, as ‘dress’ was clearly not going to be involved. “Could we use your room, please, because it’s bigger, and you can wait in my room till we’re ready?” I agreed, at the same moment that Gina bent over in my line of vision to get a clearer view of a pot plant, revealing to me her cute little bottom clad in delicate white panties. Probably she knew I wouldn’t be seeing much of them during the ballet. As I climbed the stairs I heard sniggers breaking out behind me. “Suzanne, it’s really an *undress* rehearsal,” giggled Joy. “She had to say that or Roy will know what we’re doing,” put in Tara. Those girls really did seem to think I was deaf. “I think he’s probably guessed by now,” responded Suzanne, with remarkable wisdom and insight. “Come on, gang.” They pattered away through the lounge to my room, while I wandered upstairs to Suzanne’s room. I had no doubt it would be a long wait, as the girls would have some elaborate practising to do, and I just hoped there would be no quarrelling. There was also the self-consciousness factor, which would also encourage some of the group to drag their heels and put off the trauma of appearing naked on stage in front of me. Sure enough, it took them over an hour, and I had to spend my time looking through the books in Suzanne’s bookcase, which had a well-used pair of panties draped over the top. It was not easy waiting, anticipating the delights to come, and it was a relief finally to hear footsteps on the stairs. Joy, fully clothed, put her head in at the door with a beaming, if slightly nervous, smile on her face. “Roy, you can come now,” she invited me. Heart thumping, I followed her downstairs, through the lounge and into my room. The curtains were drawn, although I did not think gate-crashing spectators in their back garden were likely. Several double-bed sheets and bedspreads had been hung up at the far end, just as they had been on the previous occasion except that the hidden area was larger this time. Nobody else was in sight, but from the whispers and giggles coming from behind the sheets it would appear that they were all there. “Here’s your seat,” Joy told me, pulling up a chair for me facing the clear area of floor in front of the screen that was clearly to be the stage. I sat and waited eagerly as Joy disappeared behind the screen. There was another wait, with non-stop whispering behind the screen, no doubt the girls’ way of finding the courage to start. Then at last Joy, Michelle and Paula emerged, still clothed, from behind the screen to make the announcement, as they had on the last occasion. Joy stuck her tummy out, probably intending it to be her chest, and announced, “Dancing is a celebration of the human body.” She tried to quench a giggle, no doubt remembering her Freudian slip of the previous show. “It is best done naked.” She stopped there this time and gave a self-conscious smile. “The audience may now remove their clothes if they wish.” This was my signal, I knew. Some girls would not be willing to perform in front of me unless I had set the standard. So I quickly stripped off my shirt, followed by my shorts and underpants, while the three watched me. I was also conscious of other pairs of eyes watching me with great interest from between the small gaps in the sheets. Naked, I placed my shirt on the seat of the chair and sat on it. Joy smiled and the other two giggled. “We will now begin our show,” she said. They turned and went behind the screen. There was more whispering and the screen kept fluttering in places, no doubt due to certain girls checking out on me through the gaps. Then Suzanne, clothed, appeared round the screen and announced, “We will start with some modern music. And modern dancing.” She nipped back smartly, and a moment later some loud disco music started up. Then all the girls, all still clothed, marched round the screen and on to the stage. They stood in a line facing me. The four sisters all looked confident and eager, as did Paula. Caroline didn’t look worried, but Gina and Mona were clearly very nervous and self-conscious. I couldn’t guess where this was going, but it did look as if naked ballet was eventually to take place, even if they delayed it. When the music, if you could call it that, gave a sudden loud beat the girls sprang into action, with sharp, aggressive movements very like those of the Spice Girls, as shown me by Suzanne. They strutted all over the stage, looking as if ready for a fight. Then came the real action. In a quick movement, Suzanne reached her arms up and pulled off her shirt over her head. She was wearing her little white bra underneath. The other girls followed suit, the younger ones still wearing half-vests even in the hot weather. This was crisis time for Gina and Mona. Their hands went up to their blouses, but their eyes darted from the other girls to me and then back again. I pretended I was not watching them and not particularly concerned with the striptease that was evidently part of the show. But they went through with it, Gina pulling off her blouse and Mona her red top. Both wore little white bras underneath, with Mona’s looking slightly more filled. Mona especially was red in the face and looking desperately at the other girls rather than me. Presumably they had enjoyed their fill of seeing my penis through the gaps in the sheets. The gyrations continued. Suzanne’s hands went to the waistline of her skirt, and the other girls followed, with greater or lesser promptness. They certainly weren’t keeping together. Seductively, Suzanne pulled it low, and then her hands went to her zip. Down it came, and she slipped out of her skirt, tossing it to one side and doing her best to keep moving all the time. She was wearing my favourite shiny white panties, no doubt to please me. The other girls followed her. Michelle pulled her panties down at the same time, and had them round her knees before she realised she was ahead of the others and had to pull them up again. At her age she was not embarrassed. Joy again had her pink panties on, and Tara her usual baggy white. As for the other girls, Beth was wearing tiny thin little white panties under her skirt, and Samantha had white panties with pale blue patterns on. But it was Gina and Mona I was mainly interested in, all the while trying to give the impression that I wasn’t. Both looked strained, and with each new discard Gina would wait for the others to complete it, and Mona would wait for Gina. Gina nervously undid her zip and dropped her skirt around her ankles, revealing her tiny pair of white panties with lace around the edges. Mona visibly gulped, and then did the same with her skirt. Her panties too were notably for economy of material, same design as Gina’s but different colour. There was a bright red heart on the front with a little message on it in white that I couldn’t read from where I was. Her face was the same colour as the heart, and she kept her eyes well averted from me. The music continued, with the girls capering around in their underwear. Suzanne, perhaps rather shy with the outsiders there, let it run on a bit before finally she put up her arms and pulled off her bra. Her chest looked very pale in these surroundings and her little breasts were hardly noticeable. The younger girls quickly slipped off their half-vests, leaving Gina and Mona. Gina may have been happy to fake an accident, as she did when I caught a glimpse of her naked in the bedroom a few days earlier, but she was rather more self-conscious when she couldn’t hide behind that façade. She looked strained, but duly put up her arms and clumsily pulled off her bra. This time I could see more clearly the two soft rounded little pyramids sticking out from her chest, white in colour and with a pale pink nipple at the end of each. The bikini lines were clearly visible, and it was not wasteful of material either. Mona turned her back on me and slithered out of her bra. She turned halfway round, but kept a hand up to shield her nearest breast from my gaze. It was just a defensive motion rather than a deliberate cover, and I caught a glimpse now and then of two little rounded breasts. The girls continued dancing, with Suzanne somewhat slow to reach the next stage. Joy, I think, grew impatient and decided to take the initiative. She danced behind Suzanne, put out a hand and then pulled her panties down to expose her bottom. Suzanne gave a start and looked annoyed, which made me think that she had been expecting to start everybody off. She swung round and pulled down Joy’s panties in the same way, unnecessarily hard perhaps, so they came right off her bottom but stayed at the front, just covering her vaginal area. The others now joined in the act, in pairs. Tara pulled down Samantha’s panties, and Samantha whirled round and pulled down Tara’s. Michelle pulled down Paula’s panties, and Paula returned the compliment. There was, as would only be expected, an undercurrent of stifled and not so stifled giggles. But my attention was on the fourth couple. Gina darted for the reluctant Mona, who edged away. Gina missed the first time, but caught her as she shyly tried to avoid contact. She grabbed Mona’s panties by the side as she could not reach round the back, and gave a big heave downwards. As Mona spun around, I thought I caught a quick flash of dark brown public hair, but she whipped down a hand and pulled her panties up at the front to cover it. Then, with her bottom bare, she pulled at Gina from the back and exposed her cute white bottom. The dancing continued, but the girls were puffing a bit now, as well as giggling, some coyly and some naughtily. They spun round, their white bottoms flashing in the half-darkened room, now quite naked except for the smallest possible piece of cloth covering their vaginal areas. I heard Michelle, panting for breath, say, “Come *on*, Suzanne!” At last Suzanne decided it was time for the final stage. Facing me, she stopped her dancing for a moment to pull her panties down over her knees and then jump out of them. She picked them up, did a naked swirl and then tossed them at me. They hit me on the leg and then dropped to the ground. The other girls followed suit, with greater or lesser speed, but I heard Gina hiss, “Suzanne, that wasn’t part of the script!” But Suzanne’s three sisters quickly followed by throwing their panties at me, as did Caroline. Paula was held up briefly, as she fell over while taking her panties off and rolled on her bottom and back, legs in the air with panties around her ankles, and the long curve of her vagina from her bottom and the loose skin between her legs clearly visible. Laughing, she pulled them off in that position, sprang to her feet and threw them at me with great inaccuracy. Gina hesitated, and so did Mona, as she always waited for Gina’s lead. Then Gina took the plunge, stepped out of her panties, held them for a moment and, as Joy urged her, threw them at me, hitting me on the shoulder. There was a round of laughter. Mona, forcing herself, quickly pulled off her panties and also threw them at me, but they fell short. In an instant I took in her vagina, wide and rounded, with a developing ridge of dark brown hair above it. One hand quickly crept down and partially covered the area. All naked now, the girls threw themselves into a final burst of energetic dancing, no doubt trying to hide their nervousness. It didn’t last long before Suzanne nipped behind the screen and the music suddenly stopped. The girls stood for a moment, stark naked and giggling, before fleeing after her. I had a glimpse of a whole posse of white bottoms jostling each other in their hurry to get out of sight. I started arranging the panties in front of me on the floor, an excuse really to read Mona’s message. In white letters on the red heart, it read simply, ‘Sexy girl’. There was a lot of muttering and giggling from behind the curtains, and then the naked figures of Michelle and Paula emerged. They walked completely without self-consciousness up to me, and Michelle announced, “This is the first interval.” Then she added, “Please could the girls have their panties back?” “Do they want to come and collect them?” I asked, clearly enough I think for their hidden colleagues to hear, but making it sound like an option rather than a demand. The little delegation took this as an answer, turned and made their way back to the screen. There was some discussion and I thought a bit of dissent. Then six grinning girls, the older ones still self-conscious but making no effort to hide themselves, appeared through the curtains and marched towards me. They collected their panties but made no move to put them on again. “Did you like it?” Joy wanted to know. I expressed my pleasure while Paula hopped on to my lap, her bare bottom on my thighs. “Gina and Mona want us to take their panties back to them,” said Suzanne, a hint of contempt in her voice. “That’s all right,” I said and added, hoping my voice would carry far enough, “Don’t blame them – they just don’t trust me yet like you do.” Perhaps about five seconds later, I heard Gina’s voice from behind the screen, urging, “Come *on*, Mona.” She emerged with a loud giggle, pulling behind her the reluctant Mona, who still had one hand coyly straying around her pubic area. She did leave her breasts uncovered now, and they were rounded with little pointed nipples at the end. I gave them a glance but pretended I wasn’t really interested, turning to Michelle, who was chattering away into my ear. She too had a hand down at her vagina but for a different reason from Mona – she was rubbing it gently with her fingers. “Did you like the show, Roy?” Gina asked me, standing in front of me stark naked and beaming. She sounded unnatural, but was determined to show me that she trusted me just as much as the others. She kept glancing downwards at my penis. Mona picked up her panties and stood there with them dangling loosely over her vagina. “Yes, that was good,” I smiled at her, and she kept talking with inconsequential remarks to keep my attention. “Yes, Gina, Roy loved looking at your little boobies and your new hairstyle,” Joy put in provocatively. “You’re just jealous because you don’t have any yet,” Gina retorted before I could intervene. It wasn’t too vicious so I decided to let it ride for the time being. “Mona’s got more than you have,” put in Tara. “Hey, Mona, have you had a period yet?” Mona shook her head and looked down, her face red, and I thought it was time to step in. “Girls, you need to stop this sort of talk when we have guests who aren’t used to me,” I told them. “I don’t want them feeling bad because I have to listen to you being silly about them.” “We don’t mind you being here,” Gina told me, with an ultra-sweet smile. “We trust you, don’t we, Mona?” Mona suddenly seemed to come to a decision. She nodded her head, slid her hand away from her pubic area and smiled gamely. I did not allow my eyes to dwell on her beauty for more than a split second. “I think Mona’s got a beautiful body,” said Joy, though I wasn’t sure if it was to be nice or to try to make Gina jealous. “Doesn’t she, Roy?” This rather put me on the spot, but as best I could I replied, “Listen, I’m a naturist and I don’t go round staring at people’s bodies, especially with people who aren’t naturists and might feel bad.” “I don’t really mind,” came Mona’s soft voice, little more than a whisper. I looked into her eyes and she was smiling shyly at me. “It – it’s natural, isn’t it?” I smiled back and nodded. She looked down at herself, giving me the opportunity to do likewise. “It’s - just that I’m at puberty now, and I’m not really used to it. You can look if you want.” She finished with a puff of embarrassment. “Mona, you look very pretty,” said Samantha, definitely trying to be nice. “It’s all right, Roy, you can look at her, she doesn’t mind.” “She’s got lots of hair,” put in Michelle in her blunt five-year-old way, making the other girls laugh. Mona didn’t seem to mind, looking down at it, and so did I. The vagina lips protruded slightly and were round at the top, and just wide enough for me to see the white of her clitoris inside. The little dark hairs, still so soft and downy, were creeping upwards and spreading towards the sides. “My hair’s growing as well, you know,” put in Gina, not wanting to seem inferior. “It’s just that my hair is fair so you can’t see it as easily.” Since she was wiggling her hips not too far in front of my nose, I took this as an invitation for inspection. She had more than Suzanne but less than Mona, just a small wispy patch at the top of her vagina. “I can’t see anything,” proclaimed Joy, putting out a hand. She took a few hairs between her fingers and pulled. Gina jumped back in anger, slapping at her hand. “Hey, cut that out, Joy,” I ordered strongly. “You don’t touch people like that!” “I don’t mind *you* touching me, Roy,” said Gina in a simpering tone. “Come on, you can feel me.” There were gasps of simulated shock from the other girls, with Tara and Joy both slapping their hands over their mouths to stifle giggles. I was strongly tempted, but knew this would just be a step too far. It could lead to trouble, it could lead to the other girls all wanting me to feel their vaginas, and it would probably lead them into areas where they shouldn’t go at their age. “No, it’s not for touching,” I said with reluctance. “It only causes trouble in the end if people touch each other there.” The girls looked slightly disappointed. They were standing round me in a semi-circle now, the ballet apparently forgotten. Then Gina said, “Roy, I stubbed my toe when we were dancing and I think there’s a bruise. Can you see anything?” So saying, she put her foot up on my knee, pointing her toe towards me. I looked at it, and past it to her vagina, stretching upwards. Normally small and tight, it was slightly open at the top now when stretched at that angle. That was Gina just seeking an excuse, I was sure. “I can’t see any bruise,” I told her. “I think I cut my nail a bit,” Gina went on, rubbing her finger over her perfectly smooth, pink-painted toenails. “Ooh, she cut her nail!” came the mocking voices of Tara and Joy, gasping in mock horror and making similar comments. Then Joy said, “We can see your clitty when you put your leg up like that.” “I don’t care,” retorted Gina, probably only too happy to give me that extra treat. “Gina, you should see Fiona,” burst out Joy, laughing with delight. “She swam with us yesterday and you can see her clitty all the time. Her pussy is so wide you can see right inside it – everything!” She went off in loud giggles, joined in by Tara. “Cut that out, Joy,” I ordered harshly. “It’s disgusting manners to talk like that about somebody, especially a friend right behind her back.” I was genuinely angry this time and unintentionally moved my knees, making Gina put her foot down. “What’s a clitty?” asked Paula innocently. “I’ll show you,” Tara volunteered, bending down. “Spread your legs.” Obediently Paula did so. “It’s that white thing in *there*,” Tara told her, putting in a finger and touching it quickly. Paula gave a squeal of laughter and backed away, mouth open and hands pressed over her vagina as if she was about to burst. It was proving hard for me to set limits. This was a borderline case, so I decided to let it ride as long as it went no further. “Come on, girls, time for our next dance,” said Suzanne after a bit more inconsequential chat. They all trooped off behind the screen – and they all left their panties on the ground next to me. The next half-hour or so was a period of classical music, accompanied by somewhat less than classical ballet, although it wasn’t for want of trying. The bodies, yes, they were beautiful, but they completely failed to co-ordinate their movements, especially the younger ones, and they must also have been feeling self-conscious still. There were some sexual overtones from Gina in some of her movements, but the other girls were still innocent, but just enjoying the freedom of nudity – even the feeling of naughtiness seemed to have disappeared by now. They took another interval, and this time Gina was the first to march out of cover and across to me, still sitting on my chair. She stood by my right-hand side, so close that the top of her thigh pressed against my arm, and asked the usual question as to whether I had liked it. Then she said, “Roy, I just love your muscles. May I feel them?” Reluctantly I agreed. I had done a certain amount of bodybuilding for years, mainly because it impressed the girls. Gina lifted my arm, pulling my hand up near her chin and running her fingers up and down it. On the other side, Michelle copied her, doing the same with my left arm. Then, as Gina took my hand in one of hers, I felt her brush my fingers against one of her little breasts. It felt soft and rubbery, with a more solid bit underneath, rather like a jelly. She ran her fingers up and down my arm and then carefully lowered it again. This time, she brushed the back of my hand against her pubic hair. I felt for a moment the soft little wispy fair hairs tickling the back of my hand. “Gee, Roy, you’re so strong,” she said admiringly, putting my arm back on the armrest, her present intentions now complete. I smiled up at her knowingly, perhaps breaking unwritten twelve-year-old rules somewhat by signalling that I knew very well what she was up to. On the other side, Michelle and Paula were stroking my arm completely without sexual intent. “Come on, Mona, feel Roy’s muscles,” urged Gina, taking me by the wrist again and handing my arm over to Mona. Mona was not in Gina’s league, and seemed rather embarrassed as she ran her fingers cursorily over my arms. “Pick me up,” Michelle begged me, testing my strength. It was easy enough. From my sitting position I could put my hands under her armpits and lift her above my head, with her plump little vagina right above my eyes. “Me now! Me now!” demanded Paula, stretching her arms towards me. I soon had her in the air too, with a close view of her cute little vagina. I knew that for the older girls it might well be considered against the unwritten rules to clamour directly to be lifted up, but there were ways around it. Gina was very quick. “You could never do that to me, I bet,” she grinned at me. “Yes, I could,” I grinned back. I was quite confident because I had done a bit of weight training and could still lift my cousin Shelley like that, although it was a bit of a strain. “Come on, then, I dare you,” retorted Gina precociously, standing in front of me with her hands on her hips. I had to stand up to lift her, so I stood, slipped my hands under her armpits and lifted her quickly, with a quick jerk, to make sure I succeeded. Her loins were about level with my eyes but I kept looking upwards, and could see the soft little nipples sticking out next to my hands and partly obscuring my view of her face. She dangled her feet gently, deliberately feeling around, and twice brushed them against my penis. Then she raised her knees and wrapped them around my armpits. As I tried to lower her, she hung on with her knees pressed tightly against my chest and her legs wrapped around my back, laughing teasingly. I bent forward, lowering the top part of her body, and slowly she turned upside down, amid her own giggling and those of the other girls. As I lowered her back on to the carpet, her legs were still around me and her tight little vagina was partly open again. I had a perfect view of the fluffy little fair hairs just beginning to sprout above her vagina. Then she let go and slithered down on her back, still beaming. Michelle and Paula were again clamouring for another turn, while the older ones were trying to tell me I couldn’t do it to them. I took Suzanne next, so as to try to avoid possible jealousy. Suzanne had her own ideas. As soon as she was above my head she spread her arms wide, forcing me to tighten my grip a bit in case she slipped out of it. She wrapped her legs around me and then, as I lowered her upside-down to the floor, she threw her head back and spread her legs wide, exposing her clitoris. There was a mocking “Ooh!” from Gina, and one or two other gasps, which I put down to jealousy. Then the girls were all over me, eager to try out their daring ideas. Mona shyly stayed out of it, but Gina wouldn’t have that. “Roy, you couldn’t do that to Mona, she’s the tallest of us,” Gina challenged me. “Only if she wants me to,” I replied casually. “Come on, Mona, have a turn,” Gina urged, pushing her friend forward. Mona’s face was flushed but she was smiling shyly, an indication that she was willing, perhaps eager. The taller girls I often find the hardest, as I can’t get my arms low enough to give the sharp jerk I need, so I was slightly worried. But Mona was slim and by risking a hernia by squatting slightly and pushing upwards from underneath, I managed to shoot her up above my head while the girls gasped in admiration. As she was taller and slightly more cumbersome than the others from my point of view, I couldn’t control her as well as I wanted or hold her outwards to avoid contact. I found her navel level with my eyes and her loins resting against my chin. As, encouraged by the others, she began to wrap her legs around me, I fancied I could feel her dark pubic hair tickling my chin. As I lowered her to the floor, she spread her legs wide as Suzanne had done. Like most teenage girls, she was beginning to develop a reddish area shaped like an African war shield between her legs, and there were a few long straggly hairs in evidence. Her vagina spread and I could see pink folds of flesh inside, with a lighter pink clitoris almost hanging down from the top. Above was that growing patch of dark pubic hair, not yet long enough to curl. Again the girls laughed, a habit I’m sure was more through embarrassment than anything else. But Joy had to have her say, and came out with, “Wow, Mona, nice view.” This time Suzanne turned on her. “Oh, stop it, Joy,” she scolded her. “We can do what we like and it doesn’t matter, it’s just fun. Those things don’t matter any more.” What she meant, I’m sure, was that in the past they felt they did matter, but now they knew they didn’t. They were exploring their bodies and each other’s in freedom, and didn’t need any silly, rude or immature comments from anybody else. And they had learned it because I had spent ten days with them on my trip to England. That evening I relaxed in my room and watched television while the girls had their bath. I had been invited, but it was in the presence of Pam, who pre-empted me by saying, “Oh, give Roy a bit of a break, I’m sure he won’t want to be there while you have your bath as well. Off you go.” I didn’t argue, aware that as it was I had been taking risks and thinking that if something did come out I didn’t want to be seen as trying to get in on their bath as well. The weather was still hot, although the weather forecast mournfully pointed out an approaching low-pressure system across the North Atlantic that ‘will probably mean the end of summer for the time being, at least’. I didn’t feel I could go naked in a textile household with the parents at home, so I did wear an old pair of baggy shorts, but nothing else. In due course the girls trooped in, all in their nighties. Unusually, they shut the door after themselves. They all had cunning grins on their faces and looked self-conscious, and I suspected I knew the cause. They walked over to the sofa and sat down on it, chattering away to me and to each other as usual, except with a bit more giggling than was the norm. I suspected the giggling was more because their parents were home and didn’t know what they were up to. “Roy, please could we try another channel?” Joy asked me. I walked over to the television set and bent down to change the channel. I heard some smothered giggles behind me as I did so. Later on I tried the same position, looking back into a mirror as I did so, and saw that my testicles were dangling down and visible up the back of my baggy shorts. I turned to find them all sitting primly facing the television with their short nighties pulled down and their hands in their laps – the older three, at least. Michelle, unable to sit still, had slidden down to the floor, her nightie pulled up by the sofa seat, revealing bare hips. “Come on, Michelle, sit up properly,” Tara admonished her, perhaps anxious that they should keep their secret from me for as long as possible. Obediently Michelle pushed herself up on to the sofa again, but immediately slid down until she was lying on her back. She swung her legs up and over her head so her bare bottom was completely exposed, along with the protruding area of loose skin with her vagina running through the middle. “Michelle!” giggled Joy in reproof, but probably just a little disappointed that their secret had been given away so quickly. “Let’s all do that,” suggested Tara enthusiastically. “Roy, we decided not to wear our panties tonight.” As if I hadn’t guessed. Then she, like Michelle, swung her legs up and over until they touched the back of the sofa behind her head. Suzanne and Joy giggled and did likewise. It was one of the funniest sights I had ever seen – four bare white bottoms sticking towards me with legs straight up and over, and short nighties hanging uselessly down below. It was all I could see of them, those bare bottoms, all with the cracks down the middle appearing to meet the vaginas in those bulging patches of soft loose skin, and then running over the top to disappear down the far side, reminding me of long zip fasteners as they always did. I choked back my laughter, afraid it might put the girls off. “What did that look like, Roy?” asked Suzanne shyly, swinging her legs back down, to be followed by the others. Now they were no longer keeping a secret from me, she sat on the edge of the sofa with her legs slightly apart and her vagina still visible up her nightie. “That looked very funny,” I grinned, still managing not actually to laugh. “Let’s see,” smiled Suzanne, springing up and joining me in front of the television set. “Come on, girls, legs up again.” The other three obediently swung their legs up again, providing the same view as before. Suzanne gave a squeal of laughter, which brought all the legs down again and led to demands from the others to have a turn in the audience while the others performed. Television programme forgotten, they took it in turns to watch each other in those undignified positions and squeal with laughter at the sight. Once Joy pulled her bottom wide to reveal the hole in the middle, but Suzanne, who was spectator at that time, rebuked her strongly for it before I had to. They were in the middle of this when there was a knock on the door. Suddenly white of face, the girls shot back on to the sofa and clutched their nighties to their thighs, allowing me to answer, “Come in,” without too much delay. We had all forgotten the parents, and it was a good thing they closed the door and that Pam was mannerly and trusting enough to knock first. Pam suggested a family game for my final night with them, and I didn’t feel we could refuse, though the girls were rather disappointed. Suzanne had the presence of mind to ask if they could return before nine o’clock “because there’s a programme we want to watch.” I put on a shirt and went through to the main lounge. We played a family card game, the girls no doubt aware that probably for the first time they were naked under their nighties in the presence of their parents. They kept unusually still so as not to give it away, although in the middle of one game Michelle wanted to go to the toilet and walked off with a hand up her nightie at the back, revealing part of a bare bottom. If Frank and Pam noticed, they did not respond. After an hour we were back again, for the last time, in front of the television set. Michelle had been sent to bed, amid weeping and wailing. As soon as I sat down in the chair, the remaining girls were on top of me, scrambling to sit on my lap, and of course there was not room for all of them. “Suzanne, you get off, you’ll have time after we’ve gone all to yourself,” Joy told her. I had reluctantly to agree that this seemed the best solution. Two I could manage, but not three. There was at least enough room on the seat for Suzanne to snuggle up next to me. Tara and Joy seized a thigh each and sat on it. I could feel their bare bottoms under their nighties pressing against my thighs. Supposedly we were watching the television, but they wanted to talk and they wanted to snuggle up. They soon had their legs curled round and their heads pressed up against my bare chest. Tara took one of my arms and wrapped it firmly around her, and Joy would not be outdone, so she did the same with my other arm. They each snuggled under my armpit, and I found my hands resting against their bare bottoms. There was a fair amount of wriggling, and the usual bits of silliness as they took turns pulling up each nighties and giggling. With their little bodies so close and so warm, I found my penis misbehaving at times and only with difficulty managed to keep the girls from discovering that fact. After about fifteen minutes Joy suddenly rose and shut the door. I suspected there must be some reason for this. Then she pulled off her nightie over her head, saying, “It’s too hot to wear anything tonight.” Expressing their agreement, her sisters stood up and slipped off their nighties as well. “Come on, Roy, take your shorts off so we’re all together,” Tara urged me. Reluctantly I shook my head. “It would be bad manners to do that when your parents are home,” I told them, thinking it might be safer to make sure they kept their nighties on as well. But the real reason was that I couldn’t trust my penis to behave with those little naked bodies pressing against mine. “They won’t know, they never come in,” they protested. “It’s the last night, so they might come in for some reason or other,” I argued, although I didn’t think they would. They tried to persuade me, but I had to refuse. Disappointed, they snuggled down again in the same positions as they had before, their naked bodies pressing warmly against my chest, their legs curled up and their little bare bottoms under my hands. I was fearful that Frank or Pam might suddenly decide to put in an appearance, but I decided to take the risk – it was just so precious to have those three loving girls snuggling up next to me for the last time. It seemed all too soon that Tara and Joy had to go off to bed, but at least it meant I was left with Suzanne. Reluctantly the two younger ones stood up and put on their nighties again, whispering together as Suzanne slipped on to my lap. “Wait, Suzanne,” ordered Tara urgently. “Roy, stand up so we can say goodnight to you properly.” A bit suspicious, but not knowing what of, I stood up and they came up close. Suddenly they each grabbed a side of my shorts and pulled downwards. They came halfway down my thighs – I was so relieved my penis had subsided at that stage – and then the girls were clambering on me, hugging and kissing and brushing against my penis as well. No doubt they wanted a final view. I finally pulled up my shorts and chased them out, giggling. I now had Suzanne to myself for half an hour. I sat down and she quickly put on her nightie, explaining that she felt safer that way with her parents in the house. Then she slipped her slim body on to my lap with her quiet loving smile. She curled up, her little white bottom protruding from under her nightie, and put her head on my shoulder. We talked, we kissed, and that night I was as close to her as I have been with anybody, except Marina. But finally, reluctantly, we reached her bedtime. “Carry me up like you did the other night, after the dance,” she begged me. I carried her through the lounge, where she said goodnight to her parents, who were amused at her mode of transport. I remembered fortunately to keep her head in their direction, so they did not discover her shortage of clothing. Then, with a lump in my throat, I carried her up to her bed, tucked her in and it was a goodnight kiss and loving final messages. Yes, there were tearful farewells the following morning, and Frank and Pam were both surprised and amused at how much their girls had become attached to me in just over a week. There were promises of undying love, promises of letters and pleadings with parents to allow them to go and visit me as soon as possible. Sadly, I am learning that most girls their age are fickle and soon forget. I did write to Gina, as I had promised, and later got a Christmas card, but that was all. Having got to know her, I hadn’t really expected any more – there were other boys in England and she was always concerned with the bird in the hand. I had loving letters from the four sisters, but the second versions were much shorter than the first. >From three of them, anyway. Suzanne still writes, still in quite a lot of detail, even if those tyrannical unwritten rules of twelve-year-olds do not permit her to express her feelings as well as she would like. I have very special memories of my English Experience. ***The End ___________________________________________________________ALL-NEW Yahoo! Messenger - all new features - even more fun! http://uk.messenger.yahoo.com