Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Dee Does MS 15 By peregrinf

   Pushing off from the bottom of the pool, I practically exploded up the
ladder, a flame rising from watery ashes.

   Okay, it wasn't really quite that dramatic, but I was stoked.

   The team was cheering me like crazy -- Greg especially, I happily noted.
His little sister Drindy was bouncing all over, her blue striped ponytails
flapping wildly, and I was confident I'd resurrected my diving career.

   Up in the bleachers Kathy held her camera up to me, so I knew she'd
captured it all.  It was digital, so I hoped she'd actually caught a movie
of it.

   "We need to work on your feet," Coach told me, smiling.  Smiling!  "I'll
see you in a week."

   That brought me back down to earth with a thud.  Not the "work on my
feet," that was typical Coach speak.  And anyway, he was smiling!  I was
ashamed about the "see you in a week" thing.

   "You heard about my suspension." I hung my head.

   "I was notified, and I also heard, third-hand, what you did to earn it.
Pick your chin up off the ground.  Knowing you, I doubt they exaggerated.
Enjoy your week off and then we'll talk."

   He knew what to say to make me feel better.  I wanted to hug him, so I
did, and he didn't know where to put his hands, seeing as how all I wore
was a coat of paint.  For a moment he hesitated, then he wrapped his arms
around me and we shared a good squeeze.

   There was a breathless hush.  I'd violated God only knows how many rules
with that naked hug.  But, hey!  It's my body, isn't it?  I can press it
against whoever I want, as long as they don't object, and he didn't.

   I leaned my head back to say something and suddenly I was in the dark --
totally!  Letting go of Coach I grabbed for whatever it was my head was in,
but someone grabbed my hands, forced them behind my back, and bound them.
Before I could do anything I was spun around, tossed like I was a feather,
only to land like a sack of potatoes over someone's shoulder.

   Have I mentioned Coach is small, but muscular, like a gymnast?

   I had one thought, of course.

   Birthday!

   The team was screaming, laughing and applauding.  Jeez, was the whole
world in on this?

   I was carried away, ass-up and feet-first, ignominiously draped face
down over someone's shoulder, bouncing and flopping like a rag doll, a
strong arm wrapped around my thighs.  I could only kick from the knees
down! The familiar pool atmosphere vanished, and I was in the cooler, drier
corridor, then outside where breezes and sunshine brushed my painted flesh,
especially my upraised naked tail!  I wondered if Kathy had painted
feathers there.

   There was something incredibly sexy about my helplessness.

   I was unceremoniously dumped on my back across the back seat of a car,
my legs were folded up.  Bodies jostled in, doors slammed, and we were off,
with me still hooded, in the dark, you might say, pinned down by someone
sitting on my stomach.  I couldn't pretend to be terrified, or outraged,
not when I heard a familiar giggle from the person bouncing excitedly on my
gut.  I could almost see her blue tinted ponytails flipping.  Fortunately
she didn't weigh much.

   Greg was there, too.  I heard him talking.  "Yeah, mom, a birthday
party...  The girl I told you about...  Yes, mom, there will be adults
there...  no beer, right mom....later."

   A short, twisting ride, some starts and stops, and after the last stop I
was hauled out of the car, still hooded, again over someone's shoulder,
cool outside air touching me all over, the sun hot on my butt, then it was
a crazy, jostling run, with Drindy cackling gaily, me kicking and flapping
and puffing and cussing from the jostling.

   There was the sound of a gate opening and slamming, a gust of laughter
and shouting, my hands were freed, and the next thing I knew I was sailing
through the air -- oh shit, what was I going to land on?  -- an ignominious
tail-first splashdown in cool, pool scented water.  My diver's reflexes
kicked in fast enough to avoid all but a nose-full of water.  My feet
touched bottom and I kicked up, blowing water out of my nose as I fought my
way out of the bag.

   "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!"

   "PPPHHHHTTHHAAAAH!" I spat, wiping water out of my eyes to see all of my
best, best friends lining the pool, gleefully enjoying my predicament. 
Behind me Carl was standing on the edge of the pool, puffing, with a
shit-eating grin on his face.  Obviously it had been his shoulder I'd been
draped over.  He hadn't done that with me for a couple of years, and never
before with my wrists tied!

   I turned around again.  The Dirty Dozen was there, save for Missy and
Mike.  John was holding Alice's hand-- she from the infamous sex ed party
-- plus all my lunch buddies, some with boyfriends, a few from the swim
team, and Steph and Mom and even Dr.  Smathers.  All I could do was laugh
along with them, I was so happy and touched to see them all there for me.

   I had no idea where I was, but given the cast of characters, I decided
that could wait.  I figured the first order of business was a little
payback.

   "Thanks a bunch, bro," I sputtered, holding a hand up for a lift out of
the pool.  Only, when he grabbed me, I grabbed back, planted my feet on the
side of the pool, and pulled.

   "Gotcha!" I yelled triumphantly as he sailed over me, flapping into the
water, arms and legs every-which-way, with a titanic splash.

   The gang enjoyed that even more.

   While he floundered, I waded calmly over to the steps and, wrapped in my
dignity and my coat of paint, walked up out of the water.  At least I was
dressed for a dip -- or, rather, undressed.  Carl was fully clothed.  For a
moment, I posed, this way and that, turning around, raising my arms
overhead so I looked like a flame, then down like wings, so everyone could
admire Kathy's artistry as they applauded.  Then I bowed, deeply, quite
deliberately mooning my brother.

   Then I saw Mom, Beth and Dr.  Smathers seating themselves behind a
table, trying, not very effectively, to look serious.  Uh oh.  Looked like
some kind of a court.

   "Diane Walker, how do you plead?"

   I giggled.

   Well, how seriously could I take the "judge" in the center?  It was
Beth, my brother's petite little GF, adjusting an old-fashioned string mop
on her head like one of those wigs British judges wear -- without the
handle of course, I mean the mop, not the wig!  -- oh, you know what I
mean.

   And that was all she was wearing, her perky little boobies glowing in
the sunlight, her nipples stiff.  The mature women flanking her were just
as naked.  Everyone was naked -- even the lunchroom gang and their
boyfriends, a brave bunch since this wasn't their usual attire --
except....

   I turned to look at my escorts, Carl, Greg and Drindy, of course, and
Kathy, camera in hand, with that great, wide, beautiful smile of hers. 
Yup, they were still dressed, Carl looking somewhat sodden, waist deep in
the water but grinning.

   I turned back to Beth and my brain kicked into gear, drawing on my
civics class about trial by jury.  "What are the charges?" I asked.

   Next to Beth, on her left, was Mom.  Gee, her breasts were beautiful and
full!  She made a great show of unrolling a long scroll.  "Summoned before
us here today is Diane Walker, henceforth to be referred to as 'Dee.' I
hereby I do swear and affirm, that on this day of this month exactly
thirteen years ago, after long and wearying labor, Dee emerged from my own
body.  Therefore, be it known to all here present, she is hereby charged
with being a teenager as of this date!"

   Tumult and booing from the assembled multitude, along with squishing
dripping sounds as Carl slogged his way out of the pool and sloshed across
the deck, his sneakers going squelch, squelch, squelch.

   "And does our medical expert concur?" Beth asked, turning to Dr. 
Smathers on her other side.

   "Having personally examined the defendant in depth and thoroughly within
this last month," Dr.  Smathers announced very formally, reading from her
own scroll, "and being properly appraised of her impending birthday, it is
my professional opinion that she is indeed one Diane Walker, known as
'Dee,' and she is, indeed, in accordance with the information on the Birth
Certificate I have closely analyzed, thirteen years of age on this date!"

   Again a raucous mix of cheering, catcalls, booing and hissing as if I
were a felon -- this from some who were experienced teenagers themselves,
the hypocrites.

   "How do you plead?" Beth repeated formally.

   What could I do but shrug?  "Guilty, I guess."

   "How says the jury?" Beth asked formally.

   "Guilty, guilty, guilty," the blood thirsty mob chanted.

   "It being the unanimous verdict of a jury of your peers that you are,
indeed, now officially guilty of being a teenager, you are hereby endowed
with all of the rights and privileges and responsibilities thereunto and
appertaining.  Therefore, it is my solemn duty to pronounce sentence upon
you.  It is the judgment of this court that you must now formally receive
the appropriate disciplinary action in anticipation of the wild and wanton
acts to be expected from you as a teenager in the future."

   Uh oh.  That sounded ominous.  As if I hadn't already indulged in --
what did she call them?  -- wild and wanton acts.

   "Uh, what does this disciplinary action entail?" I asked warily.

   "Beat her, beat her, beat her!" the undisciplined mob, my friends,
chanted.

   Beth pounded for order, not very effectively since she was using a toy
rubber hammer.  Her smile was more than a little bit wicked, as were Mom's
and Dr.  Smathers's.  "The Charter of BAPOOT, the Benevolent And Protective
Order Of Teenagers, mandates that the inductee must be properly and
rightfully struck forcefully upon the buttocks with the bare hand the
appropriate number of times in recognition of her new status, the aforesaid
spanking to be administered by the executioner of her choice, the
appropriate number of strokes being thirteen, plus one to grow on."

   OOOohh my!  I was going to get my birthday spanking!  I'd had those
before, of course, usually from my brother before breakfast.  But this was
a more formal sentence, and here I was, naked, in front of a crowd.

   Oh my!

   "Did you say I get to choose the -- uh -- executioner myself?" I asked,
playing for time, my whole body tingling.

   "We did," Beth affirmed.

   Oooh my.  Who did I want to do the spanking?  I ran my eye over the
assemblage.

   Judy Liu?  She looked entirely too eager.  And anyway, I owed her
already, and I had plans for her!

   Carl?

   Naaaah.  He's my brother.  None of the adults, and not Kathy, she'd had
her way with me already today, and I with her, of course.

   Really, there was only one obvious choice.

   "If it please the court.  May I have a last request before I name my
choice and accept my punishment?" I asked the court respectfully.

   Beth huddled briefly with Mom and Dr.  Smathers, then nodded.  "You
may."

   "I believe certain people here are in violation of the dress code for my
party.  I ask that everyone be as naked as I am."

   Greg and Drindy looked at each other and gulped.

   Well, if they were going to hang around with me they might as well get
used to it.  Carl was already getting out of his soggy clothes, and Kathy
had stripped during the proceedings.  Nudity was nothing new for them, but
for Greg and Drindy, being naked in a crowd wasn't something they were used
to.

   I cocked my eyebrow at Drindy and her brother.  Granted, Greg was only
wearing his team racing suit, but he wasn't naked.

   Beth snickered.  "It is the judgment of this court that all who are not
naked forthwith are in danger of being found in contempt, punishment for
which is to be tossed fully clothed into the pool."

   Drindy, fidgeting, looked worried.  Greg bent to whisper to her, and she
shook her head, ponytails whipping.  He whispered again, and she squirmed,
blushing.  Greg pointed across the deck.  Drindy looked over at The Dirty
Dozen, some of whom, the sixth-graders, were little older than she was,
with bodies as immature as hers -- no curves, little breast buds, puffy
little pussy lips.  Maria Sanchez, slender as a reed, nodded encouragingly,
and walked over to ease Drindy's shirt up encouragingly.

   With a theatrical sigh, Drindy raised her arms, letting Maria strip her
shirt off, as her brother stripped off his swim suit.  As Maria gently drew
Drindy's shorts and panties down the younger girl gave a sexy little
shiver, her nipples stiffening eagerly as she tried to cover herself.  As
before, my mouth watered at the sight of her shy cleft, but Greg's greater
maturity was what attracted my eye more -- that is to say the stiffy
jutting out from his groin.  Yum!

   The thought of being bent over his lap, his hand smacking my ass, made
my bottom pucker.  I pointed.  "I choose Greg Anderson as my executioner."

   I wish Kathy had recorded the series of expressions that he ran through
-- surprise, concern, horniness, anxiety, eagerness, almost matched by the
rise, fall, rise of his hard on.

   He blushed like a fire truck.

   A chair was moved out to the center of the pool deck, and Greg was
directed to it.  He was obviously nervous, and aroused, and embarrassed, as
he sat down, his pecker standing straight up from his lap.

   I made a real show of marching to my doom, head high, conscious of my
dramatic appearance thanks to my paint job.  Actually, I didn't march.  I
sauntered, I strutted -- oh, I just showed off.  Reaching him, I paused
dramatically.

   "Do your worst," I challenged him nobly, back of my hand to my brow. 
And then I slowly lowered myself across his bare thighs, feeling the stiff
rod of his hard on against my hip.  Oh boy!

   "Whatever you do, don't be a wimp," I whispered, "or this crew will take
it out on you."

   Oh gosh, did I really say that?  Oh shit, I felt desperately exposed and
vulnerable, the sun hot on my naked, painted butt.  And oh wow, was my
pussy creaming!

   Hesitantly at first, them more boldly, Greg had a lot of fun stroking
and feeling my ass, his fingers poking into the crack, even, making me
squirm.

   "The witnesses will count the strokes," Beth commanded in her most
judicial voice.

   Slap!

   "One!" Drindy counted tentatively in support of her brother.  The others
knew better.

   "Harder," I whispered.

   "Doesn't count," Beth announced.  "Not hard enough."

   "Told you," I whispered, wriggling on his naked lap just to feel him.  I
sneaked a hand under and tickled his thighs.

   SMACK!

   Wow!  That one stung!

   "One," counted the crowd.

   "Harder," I muttered, flexing my cheeks, reaching to find his balls, but
the chair was in the way.

   WHAP!

   "YOW!" I yelped, jerking.

   "Two!" the gang responded more enthusiastically.

   Oh shit, I was already getting really turned on!

   "Better," I encouraged him.

   SMACK!

   Shit!  Oh gosh.  Wow.  Yum.  And that was only three.

   "Take your time, executioner," Beth ordered.  "Enjoy the moment."

   He did.  Greg was really getting into this, lingering between strokes,
taking the time to fondle my butt.  His fingers crept tantalizingly close
to the center of my joy, teasingly touching my butt hole.  I let my legs
part, encouraging him, but he held back from probing my oozing pussy, darn
it, and I couldn't reach him at all.

   He alternated his strokes, first one cheek then the other, taking plenty
of time to cop a feel between them.  My tail began to burn.  The blood was
running to my head, I was kicking my feet between every stroke, and I was
getting more and more turned on.  I tried squirming against him, tried to
get some pressure on my pussy, but couldn't.  I was intensely aware of
everyone watching me get my paddling, knowing they could tell I was getting
hornier with every stroke.  I was squealing now with every blow.

   "Ten!"

   I was close.

   Fondle, fondle, fondle.  Nnngggg.

   "Eleven!"

   Closer!

   Touch.  Stroke.  Poke!  Wow!

   "Twelve!"

   "YEEOWCH!" Still closer.  C'mon, give me more, give me more I pleaded
silently.

   Diddle, diddle, diddle.

   WHACK!

   "THIRTEEN!"

   YowWowshoot!  So near but yet so far!  And one to grow on!  Please, one
more to grow on!

   Or come on, as the case may be.

   Tease, tease, tease.

   "And one to grow on," Beth ordered.

   YESSS!

   Whack!

   NNNNGGGGGHHHH, shit, so close, so close, so close, but no cigar.

   But still fondling my seared butt, Greg leaned over and kissed my ear,
and that was almost enough, but still not quite.  I wanted to jump his pole
right then and there, but my blazing butt demanded some relief.  Scrambling
off Greg's lap I dashed for the pool and did a sloppy front flip off the
edge to hit the water ass first, yet again, and I swear I was engulfed in a
cloud of steam.  The cheering crowd joined me in the pool and, after being
tossed around and ducked, it degenerated into a massive water free-for-all.


   But I had sort of a mental clock ticking away in my head.  Ten minutes
to wash off the fixative, Kathy had said.  One minute in the pool at school
because of my dive.  Another minute here, after Carl launched me off his
shoulder.  By the time my mental clock reached about seven the spray had
died down and I shared a watery hug with Greg, hot, slick skin to hot,
slick skin in the cool pool water.  I lightly licked my arm, tasting orange
mixed with lemon.  The paint was ready to come off!

   And anyway, I was getting hungry.  After all, my birthday breakfast had
consisted of a bowl of cold cereal, and Kathy had only fed me some fruit
and cheese.

   I saw Stephanie emerge from the house with a platter, followed by Kathy
with another one, and realized it had to be Steph's house.  I knew her
folks were well off -- she owned the gelding that Beth made her dramatic
pep-rally entrance on, after all.  The swimming pool was no surprise.

   "Let's eat," I urged Greg, taking him by the hand.

   "You're not mad at me?" he asked fearfully.

   What could I say?  I turned on him and wrapped him up like the birthday
present he was, and kissed him, really, really kissed him, a spit-swapping,
tongue-tangling, lip-locking sucker of a smooch.

   Cue the chorus: WOOOoooooOOOOOOO!

   "Does that feel like I'm mad at you?" I asked as we bumped foreheads, my
excited titties brushing his naked chest.

   "You're sweet," he told me.

   What could I say but, "Aww shucks."

   He licked his lips.  "No, I mean you're really sweet!"

   "That's the paint," I giggled.  His once again stiff cock was trapped
between us beneath the surface of the water.  But my timing, and our
stomachs were taking priority over our crotches so we dripped our naked way
to the buffet, trailed by the rest of the gang.

   "Plague of locusts" is a weak cliché compared to what happened at the
table when The Dirty Dozen and all the rest of us descended upon it.  There
were heaps of sandwiches, mounds of chips, even some carrot sticks and, of
course, gallons of soda.

   The last, naturally, resulted in the rude eruptions you'd expect from a
bunch of kids.  Started by the boys, of course, it soon turned into a
belching contest.  In the end, Drindy put the boys to shame, rattling
windows two blocks away, and she won by acclamation.

   "Someone's here to see you," Steph whispered to me as the cheering died
down.  "I do believe you're ripe!" she added, impishly licking my ear.

   Oh yeah!  "Excuse me," I said to Greg.  "I'm needed in the house.  No,
you stay put, I'll take care of it."

   "But you'll miss dessert," he protested.

   He's such a gentleman!  Little did he know I was the dessert.  I gave
him a coy wink and followed Stephanie into the house.  She pointed, and I
followed her directions to the living room.

   Uh oh!  Even from the back I recognized Missy's mom.  She was standing,
appraising the painting over the mantel.  She was as impeccably turned out
as ever, a trim knee length skirt, white blouse, stockings, low heels.  No
Casual Saturday for her.  I bet even her gardening clothes were ironed and
creased.

   I was suddenly very aware of my nudity.  Drawing a deep breath, I braced
myself.  "Mrs.  Wilson?  You wanted to see me?"

   She spun around, and my appearance obviously startled her.  "Oh, my! 
Uh. Very striking," she observed.

   "Yes'm," I agreed.  "Thank you.  Kathy Powers did it.  She's a real
artist.  I believe the painting over the mantel is hers as well."

   "Marvelous!  I'm -- uh -- sorry to intrude on your party," she
stammered. She was obviously uncomfortable, but didn't seem angry.  "Missy
sends her regrets -- she -- well, I just couldn't let her come.  Not after
what she'd done.  I'm sure you understand."

   "Yes'm." And I did, though I felt a pang.  If I'd pulled what Missy had
I'd have been grounded until I was 18.  I hoped she wasn't as hard on Missy
as that.

   "This is hard for me."

   I nodded.

   "Missy and I, we've talked.  She told me that you tried to stop her. 
She's sorry she was so mean to you, and says that y...you were right."

   I nodded again.  I didn't hate the woman.  Didn't even dislike her.  But
I wasn't going to let her off the hook, either.  If she hadn't been so
stiff-necked, more willing to listen, Missy might have confided in her.

   "She told me, too, what you did for her, that you saved her from -- uh
-- being raped."

   "I don't think it would have come to that, though it certainly was
attempted," I admitted.

   "Thank you," she whispered.

   "She's my friend.  It's what friends do."

   To my surprise, Missy's mom stepped close and suddenly hugged me. 
"Thank you."

   For a moment I just stood there, stunned, then hesitantly put my arms
around her, and felt her shaking.  Was she crying?  I held her close,
feeling the person behind that stiff facade.  When she let go and stepped
back I suddenly realized my paint was more ready than I'd thought.

   Uh oh.

   Wiping tears from her cheeks with her fingers, she saw where I was
looking, and looked down at herself.  For a second I thought she was going
to faint at the smears of orange and yellow and red that had rubbed off on
her white blouse, her beautiful skirt.

   "Oh dear!" She actually managed a laugh.  "I guess I deserved that."

   "No'm, I'm sorry it happened," I apologized.  "It's water soluble, and
I've been in the pool.  It should come off easily."

   She dabbed at it, got some on her fingers, went to suck it off, and
looked surprised.  "Sweet!"

   "Uhm -- it's edible," I admitted.

   "Oh!  I -- I'd rather not know the details." She went to her purse on an
end table and dug into it, taking out a carefully wrapped little package.
"This is from Missy.  She found it in a shop months ago, and knew you'd
love it.  She saved her allowance to buy it for your birthday.  Please,
won't you take it?"

   "Of course I will.  Thank you." I was biting my lip, blinking back
tears, my voice husky.

   "Well, I'll be going.  Happy birthday."

   "Thank you." I wanted to say more, or maybe it was The Stick.  "Mrs. 
Wilson, Missy's a good, sweet, wonderful person.  Give her a chance."

   "What should I do?" she asked, almost desperately.

   I thought about what my mom did so well for me.  "Listen to her without
judging her."

   "That's what Ms.  Andrews said.  Missy and I -- we're going to be
meeting with her again." She laughed nervously.  "A little family therapy,
I guess."

   I nodded.  "Ms.  Andrews is a very kind, wise woman.  I think what Missy
needs most, right now, is just for you to listen to her.  We're all growing
up, and we need all the help -- all the understanding -- we can get."

   Mrs.  Wilson nodded.  "Thank you," she whispered again.  "Have a nice
party."

   She hurried away, leaving me standing there, looking at the little
package from Missy.  I knew if I opened it right now I'd cry a river.

   "Dee?  Are you alright?" Stephanie asked.

   "Oh, yeah, thanks, Steph.  Could you put this someplace safe for me,
please?"

   "Sure." She took it from me.  "Ready to be dessert?"

   "Oh yeah!" That got me back on track.

   "How do you want to handle it?"

   "I've got an idea to get it started.  Is the table cleared, and do the
guys know I'm edible?"

   Stephanie nodded.  "I told Beth to pass the word about the paint."

   As I stepped out onto the sun-washed pool deck, I felt a real tingle at
the thought of what I was about to do.  Everyone saw me coming and
conversation died.  I walked straight to Judy Liu, and saw just a flicker
of concern in her almond eyes.

   "Truth or dare, Judy?"

   "Dare," she challenged confidently.

   I giggled, a tense, horny giggle.

   "I dare you to kiss my sweet ass."

   That brought a roar of wicked laughter, especially from The Dirty Dozen.


   Sauntering to the head of the table I turned on Judy.  I beckoned with a
crooked finger.  When she was beside me, I grinned, and bent slowly over to
press my aching tits to the cool plastic tablecloth, squirming erotically.

   Oh, I do so much enjoy being sexily naked!

   "Come on, Judy.  Kiss my ass!" I ordered her huskily.  "You know you
want to."

   Judy went around behind me.  She knew exactly what I was asking.  I
flinched at the touch of her hands on my cheeks, felt kisses and nips on
each bun, felt her press them apart.  I felt her breath on my crack, and
shuddered at the first touch of her lips to my crevice, then the first,
tentative tickle of her tongue right on my sweetly painted pucker.

   "Mmmmmm," I purred.  "Make sure you get nice and deep.  Get every bit of
the paint out.  Taste me."

   Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, was I going to enjoy this.  Kathy had gone deep
with the paint.  I'd enjoyed the way her finger drilled into my tail,
pressing the cold, wet, edible finger-paint deep, deep, deep.  I wished I
could see Judy now, with her face pressed to my butt.  I could imagine it,
Judy bent over at my tail, her own cute naked body in the sun, her nose in
my crack.

   Then I realized that Kathy had her camera, and knew she wasn't about to
miss this opportunity.  I'd see Judy humbled.  Maybe I'd blow a copy up and
hang it in my room.

   Oh, I wasn't vindictive.  I didn't hate Judy -- anything but! 
Humiliation was part of the game!  When she'd jammed that butt plug up my
rear at the party, part of my horny pleasure was the knowledge that
everyone was watching my humiliation.  I was just returning the favor, and
we both were loving every minute of it.

   Oooooo!  Me especially.  The warm stroking of her tongue as she slurped
away at the delicious paint on my bung was pure sensuous ecstasy.  I
stretched my arms out and gripped the edge of the table.  "Deeper," I
moaned.  "Deeper."

   She paused, and I felt her hot sigh, and knew she was contemplating this
with mixed feelings of fear and hunger and disgust and desire.  She
wriggled her tongue at my rear gate, and I relaxed it just a teensy weensy
bit.  Don't think I didn't remember the awesome feel of Carl's cock
penetrating my ass, how I'd granted him admission.  I was more than willing
to grant Judy's tongue the same access.

   She wriggled the tip of her tongue into the crinkly pucker, and I purred
like a pussycat.  Yum, yum, yum.

   Then someone began licking my right hand, and someone else my hip.  I
was being turned into a smorgasbord!  There was hot breath at my ear, and a
tongue going to work there, too.  I opened my eye to discover it was Greg!
I smiled and twisted my head enough to kiss him, let his tongue explore my
lips and mouth before I relaxed and gave him my ear again.  Eventually he
moved away to sweeter pastures and someone else took his place.

   Meanwhile, Judy was slowly gaining ground.  Oooogoody!  She was as bold
as I'd hoped, not afraid to explore further.  I yielded to her probing
tongue as it wormed its way into my sphincter.  My pussy was creaming like
mad, and suddenly, somehow, there was someone under the table, lapping at
my pussy!

   Ohshit!  That was enough to send me over the edge, and I knew Judy was
feeling the pulsing of my coming with her tongue buried in my ass.  The
delightful little witch proceeded to pace her own probing in time with the
spasms of my tail-hole, the clenching of my pussy, reinforcing every
delicious wave, probing just a tiny bit deeper with every pulse.

   Someone's teeth scraped my ribs, someone else was licking my armpit,
while a tongue made long swipes on my back.  I was surrounded, engulfed.  I
was being eaten alive and loving every minute of it.  There were so many
mouths working at me I lost track.  But the focus of my pleasure remained
my ass, as Judy dug in with gusto, squirming her face in my crack even as
her tongue drilled my butt, until I simply could not take it anymore, my
legs curling, closing, squeezing her out while my whole body convulsed with
my orgasm.

   When I finally went limp, there were hands all over me, lifting me,
turning me over, moving me so I wound up on my back on the table, my legs
sprawled off the end so the hungry crowd could continue their feast on the
front of my body.

   Oh, I was going to miss that lovely paint job so much, but I was so
enjoying the process of it being swept away by their loving tongues.  I
looked, and marveled at my wonderful friends, so eager to partake of me. 
With Kathy coaching her, Drindy gave me an impish look, and nipped at one
of my nipples, sending sparks through my whole body.

   She learned fast, the little rascal.  Leaning farther across me, she
gave the other one the same treatment, her ponytails dancing with her
giggles while I jumped and jittered with every nip.  When she finally
backed off, by lifting my head, I could see her brother between my thighs,
familiarizing himself with the intricacies of my pussy.  He stroked me.

   "Oooo that was nice."

   He looked up at me, his face inches from my twat, his fingers even
closer.

   "Oh yes, touch me there, gently, lick your fingers first."

   He did, watching my reaction.

   "Taste me.  Go ahead, taste me!" I could see him hesitate, then
tentatively lick.

   "Wow!  A little further up.  ZOWIE.  Don't stop now!" I was floating on
wave after wave of pleasure.  His lips closed on my clit -- Beth was
whispering in his ear -- and the skyrockets went off again, until I eased
him away from my hypersensitive folds.

   My neck was tired so I let my head back down while the crowd finished,
seeking out every little bit of paint.  Even Frannie, and Inez, Peggy and
Cindy, the whole lunch gang, their boyfriends, the people from the swim
team, late arrivals, were taking licks at me, washing my face, my neck, my
shoulders and torso, my thighs.  The Dirty Dozen had a rough time finding
someplace to slurp, so they enjoyed each other as much as they did me.

   I was a toy in their hands by now, boneless, limp, totally awash in the
sensuous tongue bath.  The licked my ears, my face, my arms, between my
fingers, sucked on my toes, even the soles of my feet.

   "Can we turn her over again?" Judy asked.  "I wanna make sure I didn't
miss any in her ass."

   Oh, that wicked little witch!  She explored my butt-crack again, from
pussy to spine, teasing my anus until I couldn't take any more and had to
get up.  They helped me to the pool on my wobbly legs.  For a moment I
teetered on the edge before I plopped face first into the cool water and
rolled around, sluicing off their saliva along with any lingering traces of
paint they might have left.

   When I surfaced, I saw that they were all engaged with each other, most
in the pool.  Judy, that little oriental nymph of a gymnast, was wrapped
around big, black Terrell in a lip lock, his big musician hands cupping her
tight tail, his fingers digging into the crack, of course, while she
squirmed ecstatically against him.

   The rest of The Dirty Dozen had paired off, as well, and were suitably
entangled, though none of them, I noticed, were actually fucking.  It was
so cool to see skinny little A.  J.  -- well, his cock was anything but
little -- wrapped up with Mickey of the Marvelous Mammaries, her plushy
breasts squashing against his bony chest.  She was clutching his ass as
well.

   Drindy was in the cluster of my lunch buddies and boyfriends, enjoying
their attentions, giggling and wriggling, her soggy ponytails gleaming in
the sun.  It was too bad there were more girls than boys, but they were
making do, playing with each other's budding bodies as well as Drindy's, no
holds barred, you might say.

   Greg, in his shy way never one to be in the crowd, was sitting on the
edge of the pool watching me, his legs dangling in the water, so I paddled
over between his knees and hooked my arms over his thighs.  He delicious
cock was right in front of my face, and it seemed only fair that it get
some attention from me.

   After all, payback doesn't have to be a bitch.

   Looking up at him, I licked his dick from base to tip.  Apparently his
activities on my behalf had stimulated his libido (I've learned what THAT
word means in the last couple of weeks!), because there was a muskiness and
saltiness to his savor, and he was still hard as a rock.  Poor baby, if I
didn't do something for him right away, he was going to have a severe case
of blue balls!  I just couldn't possibly let that happen!

   I pursed my lips over the plummy, spongy head of his cock and sucked
gently, drawing a spurt of pre-come from the slit at the tip.

   "Are you sure?" he asked nervously.

   "Don't you want me to?" I asked between licks.

   "Oh, uh, yeah, sure, if you want to."

   "Oh, I do!  I really, really do!" I engulfed the knob of his prick with
my mouth, slurped my way up off it.  "Tell me, did you enjoy licking me?"

   "Heck yeah!  I mean, that was so hot!  It tasted so -- I can't even
describe it.  You were hot, and juicy, and I could see how much you were
liking it, and that only made it better for me.  I almost came without
touching myself!"

   "Well then," I mumbled around his delicious hard cock, "you know exactly
how I feel."

   "But, what if I come," he stammered.

   "I told you the other day, didn't I?" Slurp!  "It's even better straight
from the source.  Now don't bother me, it's not polite for me to talk with
my mouth full."

   "Oh, gosh!" he sighed.

   Oh, yum!  It was scrumptious, hot and tasty, and I savored new, fresh
waves of pre-come mingling with my saliva, coating his warm meat.  I loved
the feel of his flesh against my tongue.  I could get about half of him in
my mouth, and that was enough, especially since I could use my tongue on
that specially sensitive spot just below the cap.  I used the fingers of
one hand to stroke the rest of his shaft, while I fondled his balls with my
other hand, looking up to see him watching me.

   "Oh God," he moaned, his eyes closing.

   I slurped and sucked, stroked and fondled, and I knew he couldn't last
long.  I had plans for a bit later, and I wanted to make sure I took the
edge off now.

   "I'm gonna," he gasped.  "I'm gonna...."

   Oh, he sure was!  His hips were working, his butt was clenching, and my
mouth was more than ready for his thick, gooey load.  I felt the first
pulse with my tongue and lips before my mouth was filled with his hot jizm,
my head swimming in its rich, musky scent.  He was grunting and gasping,
his balls drawn up tight, and just knowing I was giving him that wonderful
feeling only made it all the sweeter as he filled my mouth with his
delicious come, squirt after hot squirt, some of it escaping from my lips
to drool down my chin, some over my fingers.

   There was a last, lingering squeeze from his groin, and I did my best to
keep it going as long as I could, until I'd wrung him out, his pecker
reluctantly softening.  I sucked him clean.  Then I looked up at him and
let him see me swallow his delicious cream.

   "Sheeeeeit!" he gasped, his arms sliding out from under him so he was
lying on his back on the pool deck, panting, while I carefully licked off
the last tasty oozings from his shriveling cock, the spill from his balls.

   "Ice cream and cake!" Mom called.

   Never let it be said that we teens let our carnal desires interfere with
our appetites for high-calorie food!  I was treated to a serenade of "Happy
Birthday" accompanied by Terrell on a keyboard and Steph on flute, before I
blew out thirteen candles on a gorgeous sheet cake.

   The icing incorporated one of Kathy's quick sketches.  She must have
done it at Thursday's practice.  With a few graceful lines she'd somehow
caught me in mid-air doing one of my racing dives off the blocks, head
between my arms, all stretched out, my feet slightly scissored.  She'd done
me nude, instead of with the racing suit pressing my modest boobs flat, so
they projected like gentle cones, capped with turgid nipples.  It's amazing
how erotic a few graceful strokes of her charcoal can be.  I wondered if I
could entice her into doing a portrait of my pussy.

   "I have the original, Dee, if you want it," she offered, seeing my
interest.

   "What if I want it?" Greg asked, a little offended.

   I giggled.

   "I'll turn it into an etching and run off a few copies," Kathy offered.
"Might even make a little money off it.  Or maybe silk screen it as a logo
for the swim team's warm-up sweats?"

   "Cool!" Greg and I both agreed, me totally flattered, of course.

   Then we turned our attention to the cake itself.  With some of Greg's
flavor still lingering in my mouth I quickly discovered that ice cream,
cake and icing and cum are a delicious combination.

   And after ice cream and cake there was a concert by Terrell and
Stephanie, and we sang some songs as the sun sank slowly in the west.

   As the party began to calm down I was getting more and more wound up
with my plans for Greg.  Taking him by the hand we moved down away from the
house, toward the diving board end of the pool.  The pool lights were on, a
few people paddling around or nuzzling in the shallows, the water making
the lights dance.

   For a while we sat on the board, talking as I leaned against him, his
arm around me, his body warm against mine.  Then we started necking, and
petting, of course, his hand toying with my tits, my fingers stroking the
side of his neck, down to his chest where his teeny nipples, too, responded
to my touch.  Then I slid my hand down farther, feeling his gut tighten as
I got closer to his cock.  He was already stiff -- boys are so eager, I
love it!

   The kisses got hotter, and wetter, the hands bolder.  It didn't take
much to encourage him to explore my oozing cunt.  I was ready, oh so ready,
but I didn't want to hurry.

   I could hear the talk, and laughter, the gurgle and slop of pool water
in the gutters, some sighs and groans, and whispers from the far end of the
pool.  I could see Kathy and Stephanie cuddling as Steph played a soft,
mournful song on her flute, and knew they were thinking of the future, when
Steph would go off to wherever -- Curtis, I hoped -- and Kathy would stay
behind to finish high school.  I loved them both so much I had a fleeting
thought that maybe, before Steph left, the three of us could get together.

   I am SO wanton I felt a wave of guilt and virtually attacked Greg.  He
responded in kind, and there was a sort of wrestling match, the board
flexing under us, but I knew what I wanted, and he wasn't sure, so I had
the advantage.  In the end he was on his back, his head at the outer end of
the board, I was straddling his legs, the board wide enough to give my
knees a purchase on either side of him.

   Leaning forward over him, we kissed, his hands gently exploring my front
and sides, tickling in a nice way.  I moved closer to my goal, his cock
against my crack.  We painted each other with our juices.

   "Do you...?" he asked, and of course I knew what he meant.

   "Do you...?" I asked.

   "I've never...."

   I kissed him, my tits just brushing his chest, little points of fire. 
"I know." I didn't say I had, not wanting my history intruding.

   "Yes, I do," he sighed.

   "Yes," I agreed, rising to my knees, tilting his cock up, the head
stroking my crevice, brushing against my juicy tissues.

   "Oh God!" he gasped, reaching for my tits.

   "Yes!" I lowered myself, teasing myself with the tip of his hot prick,
slippery with pre-come.  "Oh yes, yes, yes."

   Slowly, slowly, exquisitely slowly, I lowered myself on Greg's wonderful
hard-on, engulfing him with my hot, slick flesh, loving the feel of his
bulk filling me for the first time.  It was so different from my time with
Mike and Missy, all hurried and horny, or with John, quick and hard,
driving to a swift peak, him barely conscious.  This was slow and sensuous
and loving as I slid down his pole until we were together, my crotch
pressed against his pubic arch, his pole throbbing within me.

   Leaning forward, my hands on either side of his head, I began slowly
rising, then sinking, just a little bit at first, slowly.  His hands found
my breasts, my swelling, growing breasts, my rock hard tits digging into
his palms.

   My moves picked up, rising higher, dropping faster, the board responding
as diving boards will, sinking and rising, and I raised my head and laughed
with the joy of it, my body finding the rhythm of the board, his hips
rising, thrusting, working all together to get him deep, deep, deep inside
me with every stroke.

   Bump, bump, bump we thumped together, the board and Greg and me, thumpa,
thumpa, thumpa.  I dropped my head, my lips finding his and we kissed and
humped, until we were on the edge, the very edge, and then tumbling
together into our comings, my eager young cunt clenching around his hot,
pulsating cock, his come spurting into my clutching pussy, filling me to
overflowing with his hot semen until the last clenches and pulsings finally
faded to aftershocks and quivers, and I lay atop him, my body almost
melting into his, our sweating flesh together as we cuddled.

   "Happy birthday," he murmured in my ear.  "Happy birthday."

   As we cuddled in the afterglow, the board's bouncing fading, I suddenly
realized the only sound was the lapping of water in the pool, like the
whole world was holding its breath.

   Greg and I were, of course, in full view of everyone.

   And suddenly everyone was applauding!  Not yelling and screaming, but
clapping their hands.  Stephanie blew a jolly rising trill on her flute
into a sweet, sweet melody, and I flushed to realize that everyone,
everyone had watched us, even Mom.  Especially Mom.

   Blushing furiously, I rolled us off the board, landing in the pool with
a splash, where we hugged and kissed, our legs tangling as we treaded
water.

   I found out later that Kathy, ever the artist, had had her sketch pad
out, and captured us in a quick series of thirteen clever sketches she
calls "Dee 13," beginning with Greg and me talking and cuddling, ending
with the two of us interlocked, rolling off the board in a silly, useless
attempt to hide from everyone.

   The one I like best, which she later turned into a beautiful,
impressionist oil for me, is the one where you can see Greg's cock half-way
into my pussy, my back arched, just a little, my head thrown back, my
expression one of pure ecstasy, the night sky overhead, his hands on my
tits, as I slowly lowered myself on to him that first time.
   I know that is the "first time" that I'll remember all my life.