My name is Aliya. My friends think it’s a cool name, except they don’t know what it’s like when people mispronounce it. It’s “Ah-lee’-yah” to all you folks who are reading this.
I live an unusual life. My parents have always been nudists, though they prefer to be called naturists instead. That means for as long as I can remember, I’ve spend my summers without clothes on. It’s so natural now I hardly think of it. The place where we stay has a nice beach on a big lake, plus a pool and plenty of sports and games to play.
I remember back to a time when I didn’t have any pubic hair, and I used to walk the beach with curiosity, looking at all the naked people. I saw fat people who probably shouldn’t have been naked. I saw people with nice shapes who seemed like they were showing off to everyone. I saw men with big ones. I saw men with little ones you could hardly see through all the hair. Occasionally I’d see a man with a really long one, and I’d stare at it, thinking how it must be neat to have one like that (if you were a man, of course) though I still had no knowledge of its full utility. Occasionally I’d see a boy with a stiff one, and that sight would make me even more curious.
One summer it seemed like everything sprouted on me at once. My breasts began to grow. They were small cones early on but they were still something I was proud of. My bush grew too. Since I have blond hair, my pubic growth was light. I was proud of that as well. By the time I had my first period, mom had been very open about sex and sexuality explaining things to me in almost explicit detail. After that I looked upon the boys and their stiff penises with renewed interest.
In that summer, one boy (his name was Donnie) asked me rather politely if he could touch my breasts. He wasn’t very cute, but I had my own curiosities. I told him, “If you let me touch your penis.”
He blushed all over, “Yeah, I guess so,” looking around to double check if anyone was watching.
I’d learn later in life what mutual masturbation was. That time wasn’t it. He pawed my breasts, giggling when my nipples stiffened at his touch. My nipples weren’t the only thing that stiffened then. His little dick shot up straight, pointing to the sky. I didn’t actually stroke it. I studied it, squeezing and poking, trying to get a true sense of what those things were all about. While I touched him, he leaked. It was a clear liquid, and unlike pee it was thick and oily like. I asked him what it was, but I caught him speechless. A few years later I learned about pre-cum.
As my parents explained, naturism was all about shedding inhibitions along with your clothes. The way they explained it to me, society is all sexually repressed because people’s bodies are all covered up and therefore creating a mystery around them. To them, if everyone went around naked, there wouldn’t be any sex crimes like rape or anything because people would respect each other’s bodies more.
Okay, no “mysteries” here. Like I said earlier, I pretty much knew what everyone had and they knew what I had. Many of the boys respected my body, especially as my tits grew! I let the boys “respect” me with their hands all the time, but never any further, no matter how hard they got.
Then came the day I saw Mr. Johnson looking at me sitting on the pool’s edge with my feet in the water.
He and his wife were new to the place. When I first saw them, I figured that, though she was fat now, she probably was very good looking when younger, since she had pretty long blond hair and a pretty face. A head cheerleader in high school, maybe. If they had kids, I never saw them. Mr. Johnson, unlike his wife, must have worked out because he had a great body and a really nice big penis for an older guy.
“You’re Aliya, right?” he said when he sat next to me.
“Yes I am, though I don’t know your first name.”
“I’m Stanley. Call me Stan.”
“Hi” was all I could think to say.
He went on talking for a while until, I guess, he got up enough courage to say what was really on his mind. “You know, I think you’re the prettiest girl here,” he said. It was kind of silly, really. It was obvious the way he looked at me, and I didn’t even have to see his penis swell up like it did. “I saw you teaching the younger girls to swim the other day. You were doing a great job, I could tell. I bet you couldn’t guess that I was a swim champ in college.”
I could have guessed, since his body looked like a swimmer’s; well-defined, lean but still muscular. There was another reason he looked like a swimmer. I’ve seen them, like, in the Olympics and such, and they shaved all over, I guess to lessen drag in the water. Stan Johnson was shaved all over, which sure set him apart from most of the men here. I thought it looked kind of cool, not having any hair down there.
“I can swim pretty good,” I said. “Wanna race?” I slid into the water. He came in after me, a big smile on his face. We pretty much had the pool to ourselves, so it wasn’t a big deal to race him. Of course, he won by a lot.
When we got out, he gave me a little hug. It wasn’t sexual or anything, like he was my big brother or something. “You are a great swimmer, Aliya, but I knew that already, watching you teach the other girls. Keep me in mind next time. I’ll help you with their lessons if you’d like.”
I told him I would. I saw his wife come into the pool area, and he did too. He left me quickly with a wave goodbye and went to her. I looked at him as he walked away. He had a real nice ass for a man, and I liked the way his penis swayed as he walked. Just then, an image popped into my head of him lying next to me in bed. I guess as most girls do, I often fantasized about my first time and what it would be like. Unlike most girls, I was a nudist and therefore part of the mystery of men wasn’t a mystery to me. I usually fantasized that a man would take my virginity, not a boy my age. The boys here were silly creatures, always trying to impress the girls, but the men here in the compound all had wives and even if they did check us younger girls out occasionally, it was just a ‘man’ thing. I’ll be honest, there are three or four men here who I would let do me. I added Stan Johnson to my list.
The next time we had one of our impromptu swim lessons, I thought about Mr. Johnson’s offer but I didn’t call him. I had four girls in the pool with me that day, ranging in age from seven to eleven. Cindy was the youngest, a smallish, chunky blond who was trying desperately to rid herself of her fear of the water. The oldest was Celeste, a cute little brunette, a late bloomer, too skinny for her own good, who nonetheless was doing well in her swimming. The other two were the Baker sisters, Jackie and Joanie, who were a loud, squealing pair and quite a handful to deal with. I felt for their parents.
As I taught them things in the pool, the sisters kept asking me questions about their bodies and sex. Jackie wanted to know what it felt like having your first period. As she often did, Joanie asked me if I’d had sex yet. She always seemed disappointed in hearing I was still a virgin. Amidst the questions, Celeste chose that day to wonder about men’s penises. She went on, as if talking to herself really, about different boys who “got stiff” when next to her, and how she so much wanted to touch them but was afraid.
The Baker girls started teasing Celeste. Jackie mimed being a boy, rubbing an imaginary penis against her sister, saying in a false voice, “Can I put it in you?”
Celeste said, “Shut up. What do you two know about sex?”
I waited for some false bragging but the girls kept quiet for a change, probably realizing the lies wouldn’t work with me. I glanced at Cindy to see her blushing all over, knowing her imagination was probably in overdrive. Like with all of us girls, a man’s anatomy was no secret. What they did with their equipment was.
And like magic, thinking of equipment, Stan Johnson appeared above me. “My offer still stands,” he said. His penis looked even better today, a little thicker perhaps, and not so dark-looking, though that may have just been the sun’s doing. “Is it okay if I join you?”
I looked at my ‘crew’ and asked, “Okay girls? Mr. Johnson here used to swim professionally.”
Their heads bobbed in unison. So soon after talking about sex, here was a good looking adult male specimen ready to swim with them. I saw the reaction in all four.
He jumped into the pool and swam up next to us in the shallow end. “Not professionally, Aliya, but in college, yes.” He introduced himself to the girls. I particularly got a kick out of the way Celeste looked at him; maybe I wasn’t the only one with him on my ‘list.’
He was good with them, I had to admit. As he touched each one in the course of his instruction, they responded in kind. I easily saw their reaction. And he reacted to them, growing an erection he couldn’t hide if he wanted to. While he was holding Cindy, teaching her a swimming technique, Joanie swam next to him and I overheard her say, “You can touch me again if you want, I won’t tell anyone.” She was looking at his penis grow even harder, so she didn’t see him nod.
Stan made a point to then show the Baker sisters a few things. While he held them each in turn, I saw him put his fingers between their legs. Whether Celeste and Cindy saw anything, I couldn’t say. I looked around to see if any adults were watching, but nobody seemed to be paying attention to the pool. My reason for looking wasn’t so much what he was doing. I thought that if the girls wanted him to touch them it was okay with me. I just didn’t want to get in trouble myself.
By the time Jackie opened her mouth in a big “O” I knew that he had put his fingers in her. I didn’t have to see under the waterline to know it. What I did see was her sister’s hand around Stan’s penis and a big smile on her face. The other two were noticing by now what was going on. Cindy’s young jaw dropped and Celeste and I gasped as streams of milky while liquid suddenly poured out of Stan’s penis underwater.
I didn’t know about the others but this cumming thing wasn’t a new experience for me. Last summer I saw Billy Dawson sitting in a cabana on the beach, rubbing himself. I guess he thought no one could see him as he watched a group of girls playing volleyball. I saw him. While he rubbed his swollen penis, he sort of trembled and then several ropey strands of white goo flew out of its end. I was impressed; some of it travelled three or four feet in the air! If the concept of ejaculation was only theory up to that moment, it had swiftly become real for me. Mr. Johnson’s ejaculation was maybe even more impressive, since it was underwater and it still went far.
Joanie and Jackie were laughing and splashing about. Stan waded up to me and said, “I’m sorry, Aliya. I didn’t mean that to happen. Those girls…”
“I know you liked it, so don’t blame those two. I won’t tell anybody,” I said.
“You’re the best,” he said, before giving me a little kiss on the cheek.
Instead of being angry or disgusted with what he’d done, I was jealous! Why hadn’t he tried to touch me like that? Was it just because they were more aggressive?
Celeste went under and when she came up, she had a string of cum on the palm of her hand and she was studying it. I went to her and whispered, “I’ll explain it all later, okay?” Her head nodded quickly. Swimming lessons were one thing; later it would be sex education.
Cindy was next in getting Stan’s full attention. She was beet-red and laboriously breathing as he held her at the water’s surface. The other girls watched with keen interest to see how the youngest would react to being touched by the man they all seemed to be smitten with. I think I should be included in that too. Cindy was noticeably shaking as he taught her a new stroke. I wondered if it was possible for a girl her age to have an orgasm, since that’s how she looked.
In a little while, we were all sitting on towels at the edge of the pool. Celeste was so close she was practically in his lap. Cindy, bless her, asked her question, “How come you don’t have any hair, you know, down there?” pointing to his pubic area.
“I shave it just like I do the whiskers on my face. You think you’re the only ones allowed to be nice and bald down there?”
Joanie, Jackie and Cindy giggled. Celeste looked like she was going to die, though unconsciously spreading her legs so we all could bear witness to her pubic baldness. I was the only one there with pubic hair, and don’t you think they all looked.
Stan then said, “I admire you girls, all in the springtime of youth, like flowers ready to bloom. You’re all such beautiful girls, you know that, don’t you?” Even though he said ‘girls,’ he was looking at Celeste when he said it. Now I was really jealous.
Celeste sure looked like she was about to “bloom.” Anyone looking could easily see the moisture at her labia. Cindy looked star-struck; probably hearing for the first time an adult tell her she was beautiful, even if it was bullshit. The Baker girls knew what they’d done to him in the pool, so there was a certain feeling of new-found power surging through their developing, pre-pubescent bodies.
Stan Johnson’s intent was clear enough. He wanted to fuck us. Being an older man, he was still cute and had a great body. I couldn’t speak for the others but I liked him. Even though he may be nothing more than a pedophile, I was still willing to give my cherry to him. He walked away after waiting for his penis to wilt; all of us looking at his ass and his swinging penis as he did so.
I ran into Celeste later and she told me she wanted to talk—in private. We walked to a more secluded part of the complex, all the while I noticed how nervous she was. “Is it true you never had sex?” she asked when we were alone.
“That’s right, I’m still a virgin. What about you?”
“Oh…my…oh…never…” she sputtered while I waited patiently for her to get to the point. Finally, “But when Mr. Johnson touched me I had all kinds of like, feelings, and my mom explained everything about sex so I know what those feelings, like, were all about.” She was almost hyperventilating, so her pause was about trying to catch her breath. “Would I be…bad…if I let him touch me again?”
“No, it wouldn’t make you bad,” I said. You know that ‘touching’ isn’t as simple as it sounds. My mom always tells me that sex is special and should come with special feelings like love, I mean, I guess your first time is supposed to be special, that’s all.”
“You mean, like, full sex, like having a penis inside you, right?”
“Well, yeah, but I guess there’re other ways, like oral sex.”
“Not like I really know, but it’s like using your mouth on the other person. Like a girl would put a boy’s penis in her mouth to make him feel good, and like a boy sticking his tongue, like, in the girl’s vagina to make her feel good.”
“That would really feel good? Having a boy’s tongue down there?”
“Have you ever, like, masturbated?”
“What’s that?” she asked, genuinely puzzled at hearing an obvious new word for her.
“It means basically touching yourself, to make yourself feel good when you want sex.”
“Touching yourself, you mean like putting my fingers in me instead of a penis?”
“Like that. What boys do is rub their penis with their hand until they cum.”
She was now totally confused. “What’s that? —cum?”
“You saw the white stuff that came out of Mr. Johnson’s penis in the pool, didn’t you? That’s what everyone calls it, cum. I know that’s not the right word, which is semen, but that’s what most people call it anyway. It’s the stuff that makes babies. I’m sure your mom explained that to you.”
“Oh yeah. She said it was like seeds coming into you.”
“I guess that’s one way to look at it. Now, back to masturbation—touching yourself. Never?”
“No…like I’ve touched myself but it wasn’t like I was thinking about sex or anything.”
I grew mischievous. Could I actually teach this naïve girl to masturbate? “I’ll tell you what, tomorrow let’s meet at the lake and I’ll show you.”
“Yeah. It’s always best to have some visual stimulation,” I said. She had no idea what I meant, but she did agree to meet me.
The next day was beautifully sunny but mild. I brought a blanket and sunscreen, and she met me on the beach. “How about we go to the far end over there so we can see everyone else but we’ll be far enough away for some privacy.” We sat on the large blanket and took turns rubbing sunscreen on each other. Normally this wouldn’t be such a big deal, but looking at how keenly aroused she was already, and that this would be about masturbation (and about Stan Johnson, I won’t fool myself) I grew a little aroused too from our mutual touching.
“Okay, here’s what I want you to do,” I told Celeste, “put your fingertip right where I guide it.” I held her trembling hand and guided it down between her labia. “Yes, right there near the top…that little piece of skin…do you feel it?” She nodded. “That’s your clitoris. It’s where all the good sensations come from.” With my fingers pushing hers, we began rubbing her clit. “There, doesn’t it feel good?” She nodded again. “Okay, now while you’re rubbing down there, look at the boys across the beach playing volleyball. See Billy Hayes? You used to like him. Look at his penis. See how it’s stiffer than the others? Imagine he’s right here in front of you, looking down at you. Imagine his stiff penis is right in front of your face. He’s about to get on his knees and kiss you.”
I kept up my fantasy narration as she grew more and more aroused, her finger now self-propelled. “Good, your eyes are closed. Now imagine it’s Mr. Johnson who’s here. Imagine he’s sitting next to you like he did at the pool. Imagine his penis…so close. Imagine he’s going to kiss you, touch you; his penis touching you…”
That’s when she climaxed with a shudder, a deep moan escaping between clenched teeth.
“Wow, that was something!” she declared after she relaxed, having enjoyed the aftershocks of her first orgasm. “Is that how sex feels?”
“I’m a virgin like you, so how could I know, though I suspect it’s even better than that. Why else would you do it if it wasn’t better?”
She hugged herself tightly. I thought she was still feeling remnants of the orgasm. I knew that happened to me sometimes when I masturbated, that’s why I thought of those moments as “aftershocks,” like the ones that follow the big quake. She looked so special, so beautiful once she climaxed that even though she was so young (and I usually didn’t go for girls that way) I suddenly felt like kissing her. She was startled at first when I moved my lips toward hers. In a whisper, I told her I thought she was beautiful and knew that any man would want to be her first. That lit her up, and our subsequent kiss was full of electricity. I mean, I never felt like that before while kissing a boy. She melted into me. While we kissed, my hand went to her vulva, and found her sopping wet. Whether from her orgasm or renewed arousal from our kiss I wouldn’t know. What I did know was that it turned me on to feel it.
“Touch me too,” I whispered before returning my lips to hers.
Tentatively at first, her fingers explored me. She pulled her lips away and moaned, “You’re all wet.”
“You think you aren’t?” I replied in a whisper.
Our lips came together once more. I looked into her gorgeous eyes while my fingers worked on her most tender spot. Suddenly her eyes rolled back and she groaned. Her labia twitched and a torrent of moisture seeped from between them. Probably because of her orgasm, her finger that had been working on my clitoris lurched forward and went deep within me.
“Oh…Celeste…” I moaned, as it was now my turn to cum.
The most amazing thing about what we’d just done was that it appeared nobody noticed us! The guys were still playing volleyball. Families sunned on the beach. People swam. And no one witnessed two girls masturbating each other.
“Don’t tell anyone about it, okay?” she pleaded. As if I would. She went on to tell me how much she appreciated what I’d done, teaching her all these things. “I can’t wait to have real sex and have a penis inside me. Should I let Mr. Johnson have me?”
“Celeste, dear, I can’t answer that. It’s really not right for a man his age to have sex with someone your age. Besides, it might hurt you, seeing he’s bigger than you are inside, you understand what I’m saying?”
I wasn’t sure if she got it or not, even while she nodded in answer to me.
As I did, I bet she had dreams that night of sex with Stan Johnson.
The following morning I went looking for some of my friends so we could do something fun, and instead found Celeste and Cindy, along with a ten-year-old named Lena, talking by the pool in hushed tones. Lena was a new girl here. I saw a lot of men look at her, since she had the prettiest long blond hair and cute freckles, and unlike the other girls her age she already had tits growing. Whatever they were talking about, they quieted when I came up next to them. That meant I knew what they were talking about.
“I just saw Mr. Johnson,” Celeste said to me. “He wanted to know if we wanted more swimming lessons.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“That we would love some lessons.”
Yeah, just not the swimming kind. “Is he coming here now?”
“In a few minutes. I saw him talking to his wife so I guess he has to like get an okay from her.”
I bet he does, I thought. I’ve been so obsessed with him that I never contemplated his sex life until now. Here I’ve been thinking about how great he looks for an older man and how much I’d love to have sex with him, yet only now thinking about how often he had sex with his wife. She was probably hot before they got married, like maybe a cheerleader or something. I bet they had some hot sex, but maybe not so much anymore since she put on all the weight. And now he likes younger girls. Once more I thought: how do I know anything, being a virgin and all; what is ‘hot sex’ anyway? I sure wanted to know the answer to that question.
When he arrived at the pool, I felt the moisture build down there. I couldn’t take my eyes off his penis. He couldn’t take his eyes off Celeste and Lena, who were standing side by side like the mismatched bookends they were. Both of these girls were the prettiest in the camp, yet Celeste was dark and lithe while Lena was golden and curvy. They were certainly looking at Stan’s penis too.
And then there was Cindy. I knew she had all the internal reactions we were having, but apparently she didn’t understand it all as well as we did. Maybe her body wasn’t mature enough for the same physical reactions, but that didn’t stop her heart from fluttering, I guessed.
While the other two held back, Cindy went right up next to him. “Can you teach me first?” she said, looking up at him.
“Sure can,” he said happily, and then they all got into the pool. All except me. I sat on the pool’s edge and watched them, figuring out what would happen but curious enough to stick around to see if it did.
Unlike the last time when no one had been at the pool, Stan had to be careful this time. He couldn’t touch and be touched like with the Baker sisters. He held Cindy at the water’s surface on her tummy. If he had one hand at her crotch (which is what I expected) I couldn’t tell. As he explained things about a swimming stroke to her, he interjected other comments in a more hushed tone. Was he telling her how pretty she was? Was he asking her if she liked him? Was he asking her if he could kiss her later? He must have been saying things like that because I saw the change come over her, as right along with that change I saw him grow hard and rise.
I imagined that Celeste and Lena heard every word he said to Cindy as if he was saying it to them. They could not have been any closer to him if they tried. He looked at each of them in turn, most likely imagining them as ripe fruit waiting to be picked and eaten.
Three people in that pool had reached a moment of truth, or more accurately, one person reached that moment and the other two were most eager to follow. Stan gave Cindy a kiss on the cheek before setting her down on the pool ledge next to me. “Aliya, will you keep Cindy company, maybe teach her some more swimming tips while Celeste, Lena and I go to the lake for a while?”
As they walked away, I couldn’t help seeing that Stan’s penis was still semi-stiff. The girls followed him, one on each side, like puppy dogs.
Cindy said to me, “They’re going to, you know, like, have sex, aren’t they?”
I looked down at the obviously flushed young girl and said, “I don’t want to know what they’re doing.”
“Well, I do,” she said, pouting. “Can you walk with me to the lake, Aliya?”
“You want to follow them? Spy on them?”
“No, I just wanna go to the lake.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, let’s go, but we’re not spying on them. Maybe they’re just swimming, that’s all.” I felt silly. Actually I’ve felt silly and childish for days now, leading these younger girls around like the pied piper, telling them all about sex, doing what I did with Celeste. I wasn’t happy with myself, especially since I had fantasies of sex with Mr. Johnson just like they did.
Keeping at a safe distance behind them—safe meaning that they wouldn’t see us—Cindy and I watched them go into the lake. I saw Mr. and Mrs. Fredericks look at them funny as Stan and the two girls played around in the water. It wasn’t like they were touching each other in a sexy way, but I supposed a grown, married man playing around with two pretty, prepubescent girls would look suspicious to anyone. Maybe because people were watching, or maybe because it was the plan all along, they soon left the water and walked together to the far end of the beach, where it was reedy and therefore more secluded.
I knew where they were going.
Around that side of the lake there was an old abandoned boathouse. A friend and I checked it out once long ago. Maybe because of all the plant growth over there, it had been left to rot. It was falling apart, and had been moldy and smelled of dead animals when I last visited the place.
Stan led the girls across the marshy beach and into the old structure. Cindy and I followed them. I peeked in a window (glass long gone, of course) and was surprised at the insides. The place had been cleaned out and there were thin mats spread all around. In one corner was a box with towels resting on top. Mr. Johnson, or someone with the same intentions, had built a love nest!
Cindy grew impatient. She wanted to see, so I moved a rock as silently as I could for her to stand on next to me. We watched Stan pick up the towels one at a time and help the girls dry their hair. He sat cross-legged and they sat with their backs to him, one against his left side and one at his right. He told them that they were the most beautiful girls in the world. His hands reached around and caressed their chests, fingertips teasing their budding nipples. They leaned against him and sighed. I didn’t know where it came from, but he picked up a brush and in turn brushed each of the girls’ hair in slow, gentle strokes. When he was done, he moved their long hair aside and kissed the nape of their necks.
“Do you like me?” he asked, and they both said they did. “Do you see what you pretty things are doing to me?”
They did, like I did. His penis was standing almost straight up, looking even thicker and more swollen than it had been in the pool that other day when the Baker girls made him cum.
He pulled each of them closer and went back to rubbing his hands over their bodies as he leaned down and kissed their shoulders. When he turned Lena to him and began kissing her, she melted into him with no resistance at all. While they kissed, Celeste touched his erection, tentatively at first by running her fingers lazily along its length.
Cindy made a small sound next to me. I looked at her quickly, more worried that she’d make another and give us away than anything else. She was flushed, her skin a deep red, and her eyes were like two dinner plates focused on what was happening in the old boathouse. I put my hand on her shoulder to get her attention. I gently prodded her away from the window. When we were a ways away, I whispered, “You have to be quiet if you want to watch them.”
“They’re…gonna…do…it…sex…aren’t…they?” she wheezed, all out of breath because of what she was seeing—and imagining.
“It sure looks like it,” I whispered back. “You still want to see it, don’t you?” I put a finger at my lips, signaling she needed to be quiet if we were to return to the window.
We snuck back in time to see Stan with his face buried between Lena’s spread thighs. He was licking and kissing her down there, and she seemed to love it. Celeste was still lightly rubbing his penis, but her other hand was rubbing quite a bit more vigorously at her clitoris. Both girls were making some interesting noises.
I smiled when I glanced down at Cindy to find she had her hand between her legs while she watched so intently. I imagined that it was like a reflex; her hand going to the aroused place like fingers scratching an itch. I don’t really remember feeling like that when I was her age, so I wondered if she could have an orgasm. I figured maybe I’d find out soon enough. Of course, I had my own reactions to what I was seeing, though I restrained my fingers from reacting for the time being.
“Do that to me,” Celeste begged.
“I love you girls,” Stan said before kissing Lena again with his lips and his tongue. She didn’t seem to mind that his mouth was wet from her own juices. He then turned to Celeste, picked her up, and like someone drinking the last of the milk from a cereal bowl, put his head between her thighs and ate her as he had with Lena before. “Oh, sweetheart, you taste so good,” he said between licks. “Does it feel good?”
“Yesssssss,” Celeste hissed.
It was Lena’s turn to study his penis, which was still hard but now leaking some fluid that she found very interesting, moving a fingertip from the end of his penis to her lips, tasting it. She smiled, so it must have tasted good.
Celeste moaned and shook, so I knew she was having an orgasm. That didn’t surprise me, though it surprised little Cindy. She moaned too, and I worried, like the first time, that he’d hear her, so I pulled her away from the window again. She was wet! So much moisture was trickling down her legs that at first I thought she’d peed. But it wasn’t that; it was all her own juice of arousal, more lubrication than I ever produced.
“What’s happening?” she whispered.
We moved farther away from the old boathouse before I spoke. “It’s natural, Cindy. You’re watching them in there and your body is responding in a natural way.”
“What’s that mean?”
I explained. Her mouth formed a big “O” as she listened to me speak about sex and her body. “I wish I was in there,” she said.
“Maybe not, Cin, because he’s gonna want to fuck one of them and with you being small it would hurt bad.” I thought for a second, then added “It might hurt them too.”
“You said ‘fuck.’ My mommy said that was a bad word. Does it mean sex?”
“Yes, it means the penetration part, like when a penis goes into a girl’s vagina.”
“Is that what’s gonna happen next?” she asked, motioning toward the boathouse.
Even as she said this, I heard Stan’s voice say, “Oh, Lena…I want you so bad it hurts.”
Poor Celeste, I thought. It sounds like she would be the runner-up. Cindy said, “Can we go back and watch some more?” I reminder her to be quiet and we returned to the window.
Both girls were all over him, but anyone could see his focus was on the blond. He was whispering nice things to both of them: how pretty they were, how special, how sweet. But his eyes were on Lena. He reached into the box and removed a small bottle and a foil packet.
“What’s that?” Lena asked. He tore open the packet and removed the condom, explaining what it was for (“so we won’t make a baby”) and then explained that the bottle was lubricant (“to make it go in easier”). It was now Lena’s turn to have eyes the size of dinner plates. Both girls helped roll the condom onto him as he explained how. He poured a few drops of the liquid lubricant onto Lena’s already wet vulva and used his thumb to spread it around and in her opening.
“Relax, Lena baby, it might be a little uncomfortable at first but then you’ll love it.”
Lena, agog and panting up a storm, quickly nodded. Celeste said, “What about me? Will I have a turn?”
“We’ll see,” was all he said to her as his attention went back to Lena.
Stan was seated with his back against the wall. He pulled Lena into his lap, facing him. He kissed her with his tongue in her mouth again, and I could tell she was crazy and breathless with anticipation. She was rubbing her taut little nubs and nipples against his chest as he held her ass up and slowly lowered her onto him.
Lena gasped when his penis went deeper. She made a whimper which sounded like she was going to say “No” but couldn’t get it out. After he was into her part of the way, he stopped, held her up, and whispered “It’s okay, sweetheart, I love you, you know, and this is how we show love,” like he was getting her used to having him inside her vagina.
After a while he lowered her some more until he was most of the way in, but I got the idea watching them that he was way too big (or really that she was too small) to fit all of him inside. At the same time Cindy was wiggling and panting again beside me. I was amazed that the three in there hadn’t heard us by now. Stan took it slow with Lena but soon was going in and out of her at a steady pace, her body quivering as it bounced upon him, and her head resting against him.
Celeste was right up against him, rubbing herself against his side while her hand did a bit of its own rubbing.
Stan moved Lena’s head while he said in a hoarse voice, “This is too much, baby, you’re so tight. I’m gonna cummmmmm,” before kissing her again. Even without really knowing what was happening, she must have at least known what he just did because she moaned very loudly, a moan the kiss couldn’t stifle. I saw him sort of shudder and his ass cheeks scrunch up and I knew what that meant even if I hadn’t understood his words (which I did, of course). Celeste instinctively knew what just happened too, for now it was her turn to moan and shiver.
That was it! Little Cindy squirmed and moaned herself, and I looked down to see (I swear it actually happened) some juice squirt out of her little pudgy cunny and run right down her legs! I guess girls her age can have an orgasm! I pulled her away from the window once more before they heard her.
She looked at me with big eyes, flushed all over, and said “Wow, that’s how sex is?”
“I guess it is. We just saw it. Lena’s not a virgin anymore.”
“Is he gonna do it with Celeste now?”
I explained as best I could something I knew only in theory; once a man cums he has to wait a while before he can get hard and do it again. I think that if I hadn’t explained this to her she would’ve run into the boathouse, pushed Celeste out of the way, and begged Stan to do it with her next. For a young girl, she certainly was a spunky one. After what I just witnessed with her, I imagined that someday soon she would be a sex machine.
We heard more noises coming from inside, so we crept back to the window in time to see that Celeste and Lena were desperately trying to get him hard again by rubbing his penis. He told them, “I think you both need to try oral stimulation.” Celeste understood what he meant (maybe because of my earlier ‘tutoring’) as her eyes lit up and she went right for his penis, putting the end in her mouth. He coached her until he grew erect again and she had a hard time fitting him in her small mouth. All the while Lena watched in awe.
I wasn’t sure why all of a sudden he grew even more aroused (one guess of mine, and I don’t know why I thought of it, was he realized if she had a small mouth that maybe she had a small vagina too—and remembering how he said Lena was “tight” and that appeared to be a good thing). To Celeste’s delight, he spread a big dollop of that lubricant on her cunny and had her get on her knees in front of him. When he put it in, she yelped so I knew it hurt. Like with Lena, he kept repeating soothing words that it would “feel better” shortly.
I wasn’t sure how ‘shortly’ it was, but after a while her yelping noises were not conveying a message of pain. He muttered over and over about how “tight” she was and how good it felt. I had a great view from the window of his hard penis sliding in and out of her, and how it was all wet and slippery looking. That’s when my fingers went down there; I couldn’t help it. I was about to close my eyes and let myself build to an orgasms when my subconscious burst through to my conscious mind, realizing what was about to happen.
I saw his butt cheeks start to scrunch up and it came to me he hadn’t worn a condom this time. I shouted, “Don’t…pull out…don’t cum in her!”
I startled all of them, but I think I yelled in time. He pulled out and sprayed all over her quivering backside. That’s when I saw the blood on him and on her. She must have had a very intact hymen and he broke it (something else my mom explained to me once upon a time).
With our presence now known, Cindy and I went into the boathouse. “How long have you two been watching?” Stan asked me.
I lied. “Not long, mostly we heard something and came to see what was going on.”
I doubt he believed me but what could he say? What he did say was, “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
I looked at Lena and Celeste. Both certainly looked happy about losing their virginity this way. They may hurt tomorrow but they didn’t seem hurt today. “No I won’t, and Cindy won’t either, right?” I said, looking at my young companion, who was still flushed from watching them. She shook her head to indicate that she wouldn’t talk.
Parading a bit before him, I hoped he would look at me with desire like he first looked at them, but he didn’t. Instead he looked at Cindy that way, and she looked back, staring at his slick penis, still half-erect and leaking the last of his semen.
I helped the girls clean up while he cleaned himself up. He gave Lena and Celeste big kisses like before and said he wanted to “spend time” with them again. The way the three younger girls were acting, fidgeting and wanting to cling to him, made me nervous as we walked back to the compound. I figured everyone could tell what happened and I didn’t want them to get in trouble.
That night in bed I relived the whole thing in my head like it was a movie playing. Little snippets of memory, like movie scenes, made me wet and I masturbated. I remembered Lena’s face when he was in her, her eyes rolled back just so. I remembered the look on Stan’s face at the moment he pulled out of Celeste. I remembered the blood, glistening on his penis. I remembered Celeste’s cries of pleasure. I orgasmed so hard the bed shook.
A couple of days later, while I was at the pool with friends, Cindy walked up to me and said she wanted to talk. We walked away from the pool to an adjacent building so we could talk privately. She looked very agitated, so I thought she was still dreaming of sex with Mr. Johnson. What she told me was far worse.
“He did it. He put it in me, and it HURT!” she said, beginning to cry.
“Have you told anyone else besides me?”
“N…No…I’m afraid, and you’re the only one I trust to tell. Please don’t tell my parents.”
“If he hurt you, we have to tell somebody.”
I walked her further away from other people and down to the lake. She explained how she had talked to him and basically told him she wanted sex. He’d taken her to the boathouse and fucked her there. He hadn’t used a condom.
Now away from everyone, I asked her to spread her legs so I could look. She was beginning to turn black and blue inside her labia where he had stretched her out far too much. I saw a couple of small tears of her skin and some dried blood. That’s when I knew she wasn’t exaggerating---he did hurt her. “Did he, like cum inside you?” I asked her.
“You mean squirting his stuff? Yeah, he did. It kept leaking out after for a long time, and I was so nervous about walking home after because people would see it.” She hadn’t cared about the blood and the pain, just her embarrassment. The poor kid. Thankfully she hadn’t reached puberty so getting her pregnant wasn’t a worry. At least I didn’t think so. I wanted to kill Stan Johnson so much, I had an image flash through my mind of cutting off his penis and making him eat it I was so mad at him.
I promised Cindy I wouldn’t say anything. What I didn’t promise was that I wouldn’t DO anything.
The next day I borrowed my mom’s razor and shaved off my pubic hair. I looked at my cunny close-up in the mirror and commended myself on the good job (I didn’t want to think about if I’d cut myself!)
I went looking for Stan Johnson. Luckily he was easy to find, being at the pool with Celeste and the Baker girls. All I had to see was how they looked at him to know that he had fucked Joanie and Jackie too. I waved to him and dove into the pool. When I swam up next to him, I whispered in his ear “When can I have my turn? I’m all bald now like them, and I’m not that much older.” I brazenly touched his penis underwater and felt it stiffen in my palm.
“I’ve got to go, girls, but I’ll be back later,” he said as he swatted my hand away. I guess he didn’t want to bring attention to himself getting out of the pool with an erection.
As we walked to the old boathouse, he kept telling me how pretty I was and how he didn’t mean to bypass me for the others. When we got there I curled up on one of the mats and spread my legs for him. He appraised my newly-bald vulva and said he liked it before he put his mouth down there. There was no surprise, since I just knew I’d love to be licked. It felt so good I knew that if he kept doing it I’d orgasm. That wasn’t my plan. I stopped him and asked how his penis was doing. He smiled and put it close to me. I rubbed it before putting it in my mouth. He held my head and made his stiff penis go in and out between my lips. A few times he pushed it too far and he choked me so I made him stop and asked that he have sex with me.
I told him to wear a condom, and when he asked how I wanted it, I said shyly, “Like you did with Cindy.”
He couldn’t know that I was clueless of how he fucked Cindy, but he never flinched. He felt me and said I didn’t need extra lubricant. While I was on my back, he lifted my legs and rested an ankle on either side of his chest. He put the end of his penis between my labia and pushed. I gasped. No matter how much I fantasized about how it would feel, it was nothing like this. When he pushed further in, I gasped again, and then said, “Is this…how…you…did it…with…Cindy?”
“Oh yes,” he said. “I had to be careful with her though since she’s so damned small.”
Not careful enough, I thought. He wasn’t careful with me at all, as he pushed all the way in then began going in and out of me. It didn’t hurt that bad.
He was sort of lost in his own world, like he was daydreaming with his eyes closed as he fucked me. I wondered if he was fantasizing that he was inside one of the younger girls. It took a while, longer than when I masturbated, but it started to feel good. I watched his face as he started going faster. His face suddenly looked like he was hurting, but I knew he was cumming. I felt the pulsation of his penis as he filled the condom. Wow, that was a neat feeling, though the rest of it seemed highly overrated. Maybe I’ll just keep masturbating.
He pulled the condom off and tossed it aside while saying how much he enjoyed me. He didn’t say nearly as many nice things to me as he’d said to Lena, so I knew where I stood (as if I hadn’t known already). He didn’t notice me picking up the condom and palming it.
I let him walk back to the compound ahead of me. I snuck a look at the condom and saw a little blood on the outside but not much. I guess I still had a bit of my hymen left. It’s gone now.
I went straight to the camp office and told them I was raped and that I wanted to see the police right away. A mad scramble ensued but the bottom line was that two officers, a man and a woman, came to talk to me. I thought it was funny to see them in full uniforms while everyone else was naked, though of course I didn’t laugh. I told them that Stan Johnson took me to the boathouse and had sex with me. I handed the lady cop the dirty condom and she placed it into an evidence bag, but not before noticing the blood. I told them my name and age. They waited for my mom and dad to show up before asking me more questions, like did he force me (“No”) and did he hurt me (“Only down…there”).
My mom got me some panties, a smock and some sandals, and the lady police officer drove me and my mom to the hospital so they could check me out, like on TV—taking pictures swabbing for DNA, etc. I was a little uncomfortable, but once more being a nudist had its advantages, since I was used to people seeing me naked. They collected my panties (“for secretions” the officer told me) even though I only had them on for the ride over. By the time we got back to the compound, other policemen had already taken Mr. Johnson away. I had been worried about my dad; he was pissed but thankfully he didn’t try to assault Stan before they took him.
All in all, I thought the police were very professional. It must have been difficult dealing with a bunch of naked folks in a nudist camp but they did it well, though one policeman couldn’t help ogling me when I pulled off the smock as soon as we got back.
And there it was: my “Cindy’s revenge.”
My parents were proud of me and the adults all said I was brave. They called me a hero. My friends and kids my age all thought it was cool and kept asking questions about what it was like and all. My virgin girl friends were very keen on hearing juicy details of my deflowering. On the other hand, the younger girls all seemed to hate me. Celeste especially wouldn’t speak with me at all. Except for the swimming lessons I didn’t have much to do with them anyway. I’d left it up to the girls if they wanted to be added to the accused, but so far I was going it alone.
Cindy was the exception.
She cornered me one day and said, “You did it for me, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I guess. He hurt you and that wasn’t right.”
“He didn’t just hurt me, did he? He hurt Celeste and Lena and Jackie…and the others too. They won’t be the same anymore and that’s his fault. I’m glad he’s going to jail.”
I remembered the aroused girl, shivering and squirting next to me. She really was older than her years. I gave her a big hug and said I was glad she was okay. She too called me a hero.
I knew I was no such thing. My motive was pure jealousy and I wasn’t proud of that. I remembered the self-recriminations, wondering why he didn’t want me like he did the younger girls. I didn’t suspect a pedophile’s perversity. To me, it was simple sexual attraction, and I viewed myself as deficient somehow. Cindy had turned out to be the real hero. She didn’t let me go it alone. She came forward and testified against Mr. Johnson too. She was so brave up on the stand.
Eventually, my notoriety around the compound faded and I went back to being a regular girl—naked with growing breasts and re-growing pubic hair—but still regular. Technically I wasn’t a virgin any more, but in my mind I still was, so I ‘saved’ it for the special boy who someday would find me.
Or maybe it would be a man.
Amazing, a new story after all this time! If you liked this, you can e-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org and let me know what you think. If you liked it, the rest of my stuff can be found at my Candy web site. Thank you.