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



	
	
		
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