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 ï>¿Betty The All-American Cock Tease by RetroFan

   Pretty tomboy Betty teases the boy next door.

   INTRODUCTION - Pretty blonde All-American tomboy Betty already has a
handsome boyfriend, but cannot resist teasing Eric, the nervous and awkward
18-year-old mama's boy next door, who has long had an unrequited crush on
his neighbour and classmate.  What will Betty do to tease Eric this
weekend? Travel back in time to post-war America, meet Betty and find out
for yourself.

   MAINE USA 1948

   From the time I emerged into the world in October 1929, I had always
been an early riser.  More parents have problems with getting their young
children to go to bed and settle in the evening.  I was never like this
when I was a little girl, but I had the opposite problem.  Regardless of
the season, I would be awake well before dawn, pestering my twin brother
Johnny to wake up too and play with me, or going downstairs to the living
room to try and turn on Mom and Dad's radio.

   I think my Dad's boss always wondered why he was so early for work most
days.  I once overheard my grandmother suggesting to my mother, "Alice, why
don't you put a little whiskey into Betty's hot milk before bed?  That way
she will sleep through the night, and you and Harry can enjoy a good
nights' sleep." I don't think Mom ever tried that trick with me, maybe
Grandma did it with Mom and her sister during their formative years, I
couldn't say.

   Years later and I was no longer a little girl, I had turned 18 last
fall, was a senior in high school and would graduate in a few months' time
as part of the Class of 1948, as would my twin brother and our friends.  I
still had the habit of rising early, but now would use the time to study.
With such a busy schedule in my final year of high school, time to hit the
books among fitting everything else in was limited.

   This morning I wasn't studying after I awoke at 4.30.  Instead I got out
of bed, smoothing down my nightdress, adjusting my panties around my bottom
as they had ridden up during sleep and walking as quietly as I could on my
bare feet, so as not to awaken the other members of my family, all of whom
were in deep slumbers in their respective bedrooms.

   My destination was the bathroom, and I carried the clothes I would be
wearing this morning with me under one arm, for me to change into after I
took a shower.  But first I needed to sit on the toilet for a while, the
call of nature upon wakening obvious.

   I opened the bathroom door and turned on the light and exhaust fan,
closing and locking the door behind myself, thinking that I was not the
earliest riser in the area this morning.  So who was up before me?  Was it
the milkman?  Most mornings yes, but this was a Saturday.  No, the person
up before me was next door, and he had probably been awake for some time in
the house next door, hiding behind the curtains in his own bedroom with his
binoculars which he always claimed were for bird-watching, eagerly awaiting
our bathroom light to illuminate in the darkness of the pre-dawn.

   My first stop in the bathroom was the bench near the shower and bathtub,
on which I placed my clothes.  Then I made my way to the window, opening it
and the cool New England early morning spring air fresh off the Atlantic
Ocean flowing in.

   Why would I open the bathroom window like that?  Was it to assist the
exhaust fan to extricate any steam when I showered?  Was it to assist with
removing any unpleasant smells that one associates with bathrooms but best
left undiscussed?  Sort of in both cases, but it was not the main reason.
The reason was that the glass in the bathroom window was frosted to allow
privacy.  And if the window remained closed, he wouldn't be able to see me.

   My vagina tingled between my legs as I walked towards the toilet,
knowing he was watching me.  I reached behind myself, adjusting my
nightdress, giving him a quick glimpse of the white full brief panties I
was wearing underneath.  Soon he would see a whole lot more of me. 
However, there would be a slight delay to this.

   I stopped short as I reached the toilet, noticing several things.  One,
the seat was up.  Two, there was no toilet paper on the roll holder, just
an empty cardboard tube.  This was not a surprise.  As the only daughter in
the family, I shared the bathroom with three brothers, who much as I loved
them, hadn't quite figured out that their sister had to do things somewhat
differently in the bathroom.

   There was my twin brother Johnny of course, and for our formative years
our family was a four person nuclear family -- father, mother, son and
daughter.  Then a few years later my parents must have forgotten how much
disruption two babies in the house at once can cause -- late night feeds,
changing diapers, teething, crying, colic and the like -- and so in 1935
Johnny and I welcomed our younger brother Andy, and less than a year later
our youngest brother Richie came into the world.

   The three boys -- who had brown hair like Dad while I was blonde like
Mom - seemed to take a 'Betty will fix it' attitude to the bathroom.  The
toilet seat left up?  Betty will put it down next time she goes to the
bathroom.  No toilet paper?  Betty will get some more when she needs to use
the toilet, regardless of how much of a hurry Betty might be in or if she
has girls' problems.  Splashing water out of the shower or bath onto the
floor?  Betty will mop it up.  Spill toothpaste or soap around the sink? 
Betty will clean it up.  A wet towel is left on the floor?  Betty will pick
it up and hang it on the rail to dry.

   With Mom's sister and her husband, they had their kids the other way
around to us -- three girls and one boy.  And Dad's brother and his wife
also had four kids -- two boys and two girls.  I don't think my
out-numbered male maternal cousin would have dared upset his three sisters
by committing the sins of leaving the toilet seat up or no toilet paper for
the girls to use.

   Sighing and rolling my eyes, I went into the small storage closet and
retrieved a roll of toilet paper.  As I removed the empty cardboard tube
from the roll holder and replaced it with the new toilet roll, I knew he
was watching me in eager anticipation, a growing bulge not caused by a
hernia at the front of his pants and his trembling fingers on his
binoculars trying to focus on me.

   I put down the toilet seat, then turned around with my back to it,
lifting up my nightdress to expose my white cotton full brief panties I was
wearing underneath, knowing my secret voyeur was watching me.  Hooking my
thumbs into my panty waistband, I pulled them down to my ankles, my
triangle of pubic hair growing all over my feminine mound proving I was a
natural blonde.  I sat down on the toilet, getting my bare bottom nice and
comfortable on the somewhat cold toilet seat, sitting with my knees open
knowing full well that he was focusing his binoculars upon my crotch.

   My vagina was getting very wet knowing he was spying on my genitals, and
it wasn't only because I began to pee, the yellow stream emerging from my
urethra and tinkling against the porcelain of the toilet bowl and into the
water itself, the sound of me urinating filling the bathroom.  I knew he
was looking at me through the small gap in the drapes, not sure where to
look.

   Was it at my face that showed my relief as my bladder emptied into the
toilet?  Was it at my pubic hair and my vagina, visible between my legs? 
Or was it at my lowered panties and my bare feet?  Even when we talked and
I happened to be barefoot, he would always be looking down at my bare feet.
Perhaps it was to do with his shyness around me having had a crush on me
for years, or maybe he liked my feet?

   I looked down at my panties as I finished peeing, seeing my creamy
colored feminine stains all over the soft double cotton panty saddle,
courtesy of my vagina self-cleansing during sleep.  Could my voyeur see my
private pussy stains on my panties?  I hoped so.

   Reaching out for the toilet roll, I unwound some toilet paper and
applied it to my vagina, wiping away my pee.  I let the toilet tissue fall
into the bowl, and remained sitting on the toilet to empty my bowels.  As I
did just this, I knew I was being watched by him, and that he was seeing me
do the most personal and private things on the toilet.  My vagina tingled,
and as I advanced the toilet roll to get more toilet paper to wipe my
bottom I felt the tissue sticking to my aroused vulva, before I pulled it
backwards to my anus.

   Knowing I was being watched while I was sitting on the toilet was so
exciting, sort of like a carnival ride at a fair ground, and I relished
every moment of it as I sat pooing, intermittently getting toilet paper to
wipe my anus.  I wouldn't have been so happy had he been in the bathroom
with me, it would have been a bit embarrassing to me for him to hear and
smell what I was doing on the toilet, but being watched from this distance
was very arousing.

   Again, I looked down at my lowered panties and bare feet as I moved my
bowels, and thought about how last week he saw a lot more when he watched
me on the toilet.  Lots of guys -- my brothers among them -- seemed to
think that the notion that non-pregnant women shed the linings of their
uterus every 28 days, the blood flowing down their birth canals and out of
their vaginas, a process known as menstruation or having a period was all a
myth, probably more wishful thinking on their part.  But thanks to his
spying on me, my voyeur would have seen that it was all 100 percent true.

   For one week each month he got to see me using the toilet while I was on
my period -- a process that always took longer due to all the blood that
flowed out of me and the rather unfortunate effects menstruation had upon
my bowels - my sanitary belt pulled down with my panties, a white
rectangular blood-stained napkin attached to it.  And when I finished using
the toilet he would watch me changing my dirty blood-filled period pad,
removing it from the belt and taking a new one and attaching it to the
hoops.  I would then pull up my sanitary belt, adjusting my new napkin so
it would be comfortable between my legs and the right position for me to
bleed into, before pulling up my panties to cover my feminine protection.

   Being watched during my ladies days doing such private and personal
female things was so arousing, and I knew he liked it too.  I would place
my used period pads in brown paper bags to dispose of in the outside trash,
and I would see him hanging around, trying to make it obvious that he
wasn't watching me dispose of my napkins and liking what he saw, failing
dismally but me never calling him out on it.  And another time he was in
the pharmacy waiting for a prescription when I walked in and asked the
female clerk for sanitary towels.  As I paid for the feminine hygiene
products, of course sold in plain brown packaging for maximum discretion, I
could see that he was trying not to eavesdrop, but that he was very much
interested in what I was buying.

   Normally having a period was not something I relished -- I had a heavy
flow, menstrual cramps and didn't feel my best -- things my female cousins
and friends had also complained about when they had their monthlies.  No
wonder we sometimes called it the curse.  And I could not have started my
first period on a more significant day when I was aged 12 -- 7 December
1941, the day Pearl Harbor was attacked by the Japanese, bringing America
into the war.  I sure wasn't going to forget it.  So knowing he eagerly
anticipated my period each month, I did too.

   But just who was 'he'?  Was he my boyfriend?  No, far from it, I already
had a boyfriend named Bobby, one of my brother's best friends and very
handsome, we had grown up together, went to high school together and we had
been going steady for some time.  And there was no way I wanted Bobby to
see me using the toilet or having my periods, and there was no way he would
want to see this either.  My secret voyeur was named Eric, and we had also
grown up together and were now seniors in the same high school.  Like me,
he was born in October 1929, but despite being next door neighbors since
our formative years, he wasn't anything like me or any of the other kids in
the Maine town we grew up in.

   I kept thinking about my neighbor/classmate as I continued to sit on the
toilet, my mind taking me back years.  I had grown up a typical
All-American girl, and something of a tomboy due to my love of sports. 
During childhood I would more frequently be found outdoors climbing trees,
building forts and playing Cowboys and Indians or playing football,
baseball and basketball with my brother, male cousins and male friends than
indoors playing quietly with the other girls.  However, during the cold
snowy winters and wet fall and spring days of New England I would be only
too happy to stay indoors in the warm with the other girls and play
quietly.

   Despite my tomboyish ways as a kid, I always had a feminine appearance
and wore my blonde hair long, and had no qualms about wearing skirts and
dresses.  As I grew older and my body changed into that of a young lady, I
knew that I was pretty (but of course I was always too modest to say it
aloud) and boys found me desirable.  Not least Eric, who had had a crush on
me for as long as I could remember.

   Reaching for some more toilet paper, my memory took me back into the
past again, thinking about how different Eric was from all the other kids
in the town and surrounding towns in this region of New England.  All of us
were sports mad, and most of us played a variety of sports.  I ran track at
school and played for a girls' softball team.

   With his tall skinny frame devoid of any muscle tone and his poor
eyesight that lead to him wearing glasses that lenses as thick as the
bottom of bottles, Eric was not into sports at all, always the last picked
and a hindrance rather than a help to the boys in gym class.  He was most
uncoordinated, and even at age 18 could not throw or catch a ball properly,
or run a lap of the oval at school without getting puffed.  Most
significantly, he was unable to drive an automobile or even ride a bicycle.
Seeing Eric setting off on his tricycle to run errands made me feel
embarrassed, and I wasn't the one riding the darn tricycle, I had been able
to ride a two-wheeler since I was about four.

   Eric's life was not helped by his parents, Mr.  and Mrs.  Higgins.  The
only reason I knew that their first names were Cecily and Fred was because
one day the mailman delivered one of their letters to our house by mistake.
At first I thought that Mr.  and Mrs.  Higgins were Eric's grandparents,
and that he had been orphaned when younger and raised by his grandmother
and grandfather, but no they were his parents.  I also speculated that
perhaps Mr.  and Mrs.  Higgins were unable to have children, and had
adopted Eric from a children's home.  But that wasn't the case either, Eric
and his father both wore the same thick glasses and looked similar facially
so they were biological father and son.  However, Mr.  and Mrs.  Higgins
must have been aged at least in their mid-40s when their son was born.

   Having such older parents was definitely a hindrance to Eric's social
development, as was the fact that he had no brothers and sisters.  He was
the only true only child I knew.  Nor did he have any cousins.  His
grandparents were all long dead, and the only relative we had ever seen
visit the Higgins house in all the time we had been neighbors was his Aunt
Edna his mother's sister.

   Aunt Edna was very similar to her sister -- I think the two sisters were
quite close in age -- but was a lifelong spinster.  Both women who sported
grey curly hair and glasses constantly looked like they drank juice from
unripe lemons and limes, and seemingly disapproved of everything fun in
life.  Just how Eric was born at all was a bigger mystery than Flight 19.
Maybe storks really did deliver infants to families?

   While I more rarely encountered Eric's Aunt Edna, I knew Mrs.  Higgins
had absolutely no time for me.  Well not just me, but my brothers and
parents too, and the same was true of Eric's father, although Mr.  Higgins
seldom spoke at all, just mumbled and let his wife do the talking for both
of them.  Dad had once invited Mr.  Higgins and his family over for a
barbeque, and the man just stared at him before turning and walking inside
and of course they did not come over.  Likewise, Mom's invitations to Mrs.
Higgins to come over for coffee were always refused.

   In our younger years, Johnny and I tried to make friends with Eric,
feeling bad for him living all alone with his much older parents.  But his
mother was having none of it, thinking my brother and I were bad influences
upon her son.  We invited him to play basketball with us one day in our
driveway, an invitation Eric shyly accepted and just when he was coming out
of his shell and starting to enjoy himself, his mother came storming across
and marched her son back to our house, admonishing Johnny and I for
'introducing her son to contact sports where he could get hurt.

   Mrs.  Higgins' fears that we were a bad influence only stepped up from
late 1941, when America joined the war and our father enlisted in the Navy
and our mother had to go back to work.  This meant that Johnny and I had to
collect our younger brothers from their school, walk them home and babysit
them and do chores until our mother returned in the early evening.  It
taught us responsibility that was for sure, but Mrs.  Higgins and her
sister were horrified by the situation, referring to us as 'Latchkey Kids'
and taking even more steps to protect Eric from us corrupting him.

   And it seemed that anything that I did was corrupting upon Eric.  Once
when I was 13 I accidentally hit a baseball into the Higgins' garden, and
Mrs.  Higgins was outraged that I asked Eric to throw it back, thinking
that I was again trying to get him into sports without her permission. 
Then in 1943 my grandparents bought me a new Andrews Sisters record for my
14th birthday, and when Eric was passing by with rain starting to fall I
invited him in to listen to it.

   Eric seemed to like the Andrews Sisters' catchy tunes, shyly saying that
his parents only had a wireless to listen to the news and a gramophone on
which they would play old records from before 1920, but unfortunately what
we didn't know was that Eric's mother had seen him come to our house and
followed her son across.  Eric was marched home and promised a grounding,
while I was afforded a lecture, some glaring and my mother received a
letter of complaint about my behavior, this time by encouraging her son to
listen to corrupting and hedonistic music.

   Five years on, it seemed Mrs.  Higgins' attitude to modern music hadn't
changed and I was still as bad an influence as ever, Mrs.  Higgins clearly
having identified me as a floozy in the making.  Just several weeks ago I
got on Mrs.  Higgins wrong side again in town, when I got talking to Eric
outside the diner where inside other teenagers were playing the jukebox,
listening to Dinah Shore, Jo Stafford and Doris Day.  Soon we heard not one
but two women clearing their throats in disapproval, and tuned to see not
only Eric's mother but his aunt as well.  I was glared at like I was a
cockroach, rodent or some other type of vermin, while Eric was led away to
his aunt's car while getting a lecture from both women.

   I think his Aunt Edna's car was the only car that Eric had been in in
his life.  That he didn't drive wasn't a surprise given his parents did not
drive.  His mother took the bus everywhere, and his father caught a bus to
the office each day and returned every evening the same way.  He had done
this every day for years, leaving the house at the exact same moment and
returning always at the same time, even during the war.  Admittedly Mr. 
Higgins was probably was too old to enlist by 1941, but still, it was odd
that his routine never changed during the war, not once.  Perhaps he had
served in the Great War, but I never asked him, like his wife he didn't
like me and I think I had probably exchanged three words with the man in
all the time I had known him.

   Probably he would have plenty to say if he and his wife knew that I was
deliberately sitting on the toilet with the bathroom window wide open,
while their son hid in his bedroom with binoculars watching everything I
was doing.  Not for too much longer though, I finished emptying my bowels
and unwound a few lengths of toilet paper to wipe myself clean.

   Finally done, I stood up off the toilet and pulled up my panties,
knowing full well that he was watching me.  Adjusting my panties around my
bottom and smoothing down my nightdress, I put down the lid of the toilet,
thinking that as my brothers hadn't worked out how to put down a toilet
seat that they no doubt thought the lid was some superfluous decoration
that served no purpose.  I pressed down the handle and flushed the toilet,
the sound filling the bathroom.

   Walking on my bare feet to the sink, my vagina tingling as I knew I was
being watched through Eric's binoculars and the sound of the toilet cistern
refilling continuing, I completed my visit to the toilet by thoroughly
washing my hands with plenty of soap and warm water, before drying them on
the hand towel.  I did not leave the sink however, as I had other things to
do.

   The first probably wasn't all that sexy to Eric, it was brushing my
teeth.  I did however open my mouth wide on a number of occasions to show
the white toothpaste over my tongue and teeth.  I thought about what other
sticky white substances had been in my mouth before.  Mom and Dad would
have absolutely died if they had known what Bobby and I had gotten up to
when he drove me up to Lovers' Lane and we parked.

   One time, the sticky white substance had ended up over my hands when my
hands freed my boyfriend's penis and testicles from his pants and I gave
him manual relief.  Another time I learned to do something very unladylike
with my mouth, Bobby filling it with that same sticky white substance which
I eagerly drank.  And other times I had taken off my panties and made
myself fully available to Bobby in the back seat of the car, making sure
that Bobby had gone to the barber's store not for a haircut but to purchase
certain items beforehand to prevent the same sticky white substance going
up my birth canal and into my uterus and fallopian tubes to find one of my
eggs released that month.  Much as Bobby and I loved each other, no way did
I want to end up pregnant at age 18 and Bobby and I one of those young
couples who had to get married while still in high school.

   I finished brushing my teeth, giving me minty-fresh breath, and rinsed
out my mouth.  I stood at the open window inhaling cool fresh air and
thinking about what other bad things I could do to tease my neighbor.  I
looked at my safety razor, and the answer was obvious.  I had to attend to
certain female landscaping, and for that I needed to take off my
nightdress.

   Trembling with nervous excitement, I lifted up my nightdress and took it
off over my head, exposing my C-cup breasts.  Knowing he was staring at my
naked breasts through his binoculars, I stood bare chested at the window
and applied some soap to my underarms.  Taking my razor, I shaved the hair
that was starting to grow under my armpits, knowing he was watching the
entire process.

   My underarms now shaved, I rinsed the razor and looked down at my legs.
Being a blonde I didn't have excessive hair on my body, but a leg shave was
still a must.  I could have done it while still wearing my panties, but I
was pretty sure that Eric would prefer me to do it completely nude.

   Accordingly, I turned my back to the window and pulled my panties down,
knowing that Eric could see my bare bottom as I slid my underwear down my
long shapely legs to my bare feet and stepped out of my pants.  The cheeks
of my bottom no doubt held much attention from Eric, but soon I would let
him see even more of me as I bent forward to pick my panties off the
bathroom floor.

   With my legs slightly apart, Eric would have gotten a perfect view of my
vagina and anus as I bent over, thrusting my bottom high in the air so my
voyeur could see my genitals and anal area in some detail through his
binoculars.  I felt the need to sate an itch on one of my bare toes so
stayed in this position longer than I normally would have, my clitoris
feeling aflame and my vulva getting wetter by the second as I picked up my
panties and put them to one side.

   I turned back to face the window, thinking about Eric looking at my
triangle of blonde pubic hair as I applied some soap to my legs and began
to shave them.  For part of the process I had to put one leg on the
bathtub, my crotch completely exposed to Eric's view, my vagina spread
wide. If Eric's binoculars were powerful, he would not only have seen my
pubic hair, my pussy and my anus, but my tight little pee-hole too.

   With my legs shaved I again rinsed the razor, and knew it was far from
the end of show-time for Eric, and I thought about the young man watching
me as I walked completely naked to the shower and turned it on.  If I had
wanted to shower in privacy I could have closed the curtains.  Did I want
to shower in privacy?  Of course I didn't, as soon as the water was warm
enough I jumped under the droplets and began to shower.

   I soaped up my body from my face down to my bare feet, lathering my
naked breasts with plenty of soap, which in turn ran down my stomach to my
naval and my pubic hair.  I knew Eric was watching as I turned my attention
to my more private female areas between my legs.  I applied lots of soap to
my feminine mound, my pubic hair getting full of soap and bubbles and used
a cloth to thoroughly wash my vulva, as no good girl would want to have a
smelly vagina.  Not that I was a good girl, at 18 I had gone all the way
with my boyfriend a number of times and now I was allowing the weird boy
next door to watch me shower, this after he watched me on the toilet
earlier, but still good feminine hygiene practices should be an essential
part of any young woman's day.

   Turning around, knowing Eric could see my bare bottom I thoroughly
washed my anal area with the cloth, the soft fabric feeling so good on the
entrance to my bowels, the most private part of my young body.  With seven
people in our house I couldn't take a long shower and use up all the hot
water, so I rinsed off, the soapy water running down my legs to my bare
feet and the shower floor and going down the drain.

   I stepped my naked dripping young body out of the shower and onto the
mat, drying myself with a towel.  I think Eric would have liked to be my
towel, especially when I dried my dripping wet breasts followed by my more
intimate areas.  I dried my pubic hair first, then my vagina, moving the
towel between my legs front to back to dry my anus and buttocks, mindful
that like when girls wipe their bottoms during a visit to the toilet they
also needed to dry their female areas front to back too to be more
hygienic, and avoid the risk of a urinary tract infection.

   Nice and dry, I hanged my towel out to dry -- something my two younger
brothers hadn't really mastered yet -- and picked up my fresh new panties,
white full brief panties like the ones I had worn to bed, pulling them up
and adjusting them around my vulva and bottom so they were comfortable.  I
put on my white bra to restrain and cover my big young boobs, then picked
up my checked shirt and then my overalls, pulling them up and adjusting the
straps over my shoulders.  I didn't bother with shoes and still had bare
feet, this combined with the checked shirt and denim overalls giving me a
tomboy look, which was apt given my personality.

   There was nothing interesting for Eric to see now, so I closed the
bathroom window, opened the bathroom door, turned off the light and went
back to my bedroom, where I sat in front of my dresser, brushing my long
blonde hair and extending my long legs out, wriggling my bare toes.  I had
often seen Eric looking at my bare feet, clearly he liked them.  Oddly
enough, Bobby seemed to like my bare feet too, and would play plenty of
attention to them when we were enjoying ourselves at Lover's Lane.

   Eric could also see my pussy, but of course not the one between my legs.
Rather he could see our pet cat, a pretty black and white tuxedo cat named
Rosie which had leaped onto my bed and was cleaning her ears and whiskers.
I had once asked Eric if his family had any pets.  Apparently his parents
didn't believe in them.

   I heard Johnny getting up, my brother walking to the bathroom and I
guessed Eric would probably move away from the window now and hide his
binoculars.  He only wanted to see the female half of the Reilly twins
naked, not the male half.  Other kids had said some very unkind things
about Eric over the years -- and unfortunately my younger brothers were on
the list -- and one of the terms often used was 'homosexual'.  But I knew
that was not true.  Given Eric's voyeurism of me, he was definitely not a
queer.

   *

   All seven members of our family were up and about early today, it was a
busy Saturday for all of us.  Mom and Dad were leaving early to go to a
wedding in another town about 40 miles away, our aunt and uncle were coming
to collect them soon.  Mom was wearing a nice dress and hat, while Dad wore
his best suit and hat.

   As for me and my brothers, we were going to be doing our chores early
this Saturday morning, and had different plans for the afternoon.  Andy and
Richie were going to a sleepover with some of their male cousins and
friends, and knowing what these boys were like I was glad not to be the one
supervising them.

   Johnny had an interesting afternoon and evening planned.  He and some of
his friends -- my boyfriend Bobby included -- were going as observers and
to assist with some basic support functions at a joint training exercise
between the Navy and Coast Guard.  They would be staying overnight and not
back until early Sunday afternoon.  Our high school and others in the other
region often organized exercises with the police, fire brigade and armed
services for boys who were interested in careers in these organizations.

   It would have been neat if the girls had been allowed to go too, but
unfortunately not, it was boys only.  Once during a careers day at school I
had told some female teachers that I would have liked to join the Navy,
given my father served with them in the war.  It was recommended that I
take typing and shorthand, as the men at the naval bases always needed
girls to type for them, until the girls got married and had to leave the
service.

   My Saturday included a girls' softball game in the early afternoon. 
With so many kids at the local schools who loved sports finding time for
all the different teams to play was a challenge, so the girls' softball
games were always played on Saturday afternoons.  This afternoon we were
playing against a team from a girls' Catholic Parochial boarding school,
who were pretty good opposition.

   "So good luck with your game today Betty, and I hope you and your
friends learn plenty at the Navy and Coast Guard training camp Johnny,"
said Mom, as our aunt and uncle's car pulled into the driveway.

   "Thanks Mom," Johnny and I said in unison.

   "I know you and your friends will win today Betty," said Dad as he
drained the last of his coffee and adjusted his hat.  "And Johnny, I hope
you decide that a Coast Guard career is for you after tonight, it is a very
rewarding job.  Pay attention and listen to everything they say."

   "Yes Sir," said Johnny.

   Dad then turned to my younger brothers.  "You behave yourselves at the
sleepover tonight, your mother and I don't want to hear any more negative
reports from your Aunt about annoying the neighbors' dogs again."

   "We'll be good," said Andy.

   "Yeah, we promise," said Richie.

   "That had better be the case, otherwise your father and I will have a
fun summer ahead planned for you two boys of math revision and writing
essays," Mom promised them, collecting her purse as she and Dad made for
the door.

   "Have a good time at the wedding," I said as our parents went on their
way, the sound of our aunt and uncle's car driving away up the street
audible.

   Johnny turned on the kitchen radio, and all four of us got busy with our
chores.  One of mine was doing my laundry, and soon I was carrying my
clothes out to the line to dry.  Not to my surprise, who should be on the
other side of the hedge that separated our garden from the Higgins' garden
but Eric with a pair of garden shears, pruning the hedge.

   He looked at me through his thick glasses, delighted and almost
disbelieving to see me appear.  It was like I was a famous movie star like
Lauren Bacall, Olivia de Havilland or Rita Hayworth and he was star-struck.
Or if President Truman or King George VI from England had both turned up
and cheerfully greeted Eric with 'good morning.' I acted casually as Eric
looked my overall clad figure up and down from my blonde hair to my bare
feet, and gave him a friendly wave and greeting.  "Hi Eric."

   "Oh hi, um, hello, good afternoon, I mean morning Betty," Eric
stammered, getting tongue-tied as he always did with me.

   One thing about Eric was that he dressed more like he was from actual
England rather than New England on the other side of the Atlantic.  Today
he wore a beige shirt, beige knee-length shorts, a beige knitted pullover
and brown shoes and socks.  Coupled with his glasses it made him look so
square, and a target for bullies male and female.

   Still, at least Eric wasn't wearing socks and sandals like one day at
the beach down on the Maine Shore last summer, his parents and aunt dressed
like they were going to church.  My two younger brothers thought Eric's
socks and sandals funnier than watching a Laurel and Hardy movie, and
despite Johnny and I warning Andy and Richie not to laugh at Eric, it only
seemed to encourage them even more and they sounded like a pair of hyenas.

   The awkwardness thing around me was nothing new either.  It happened
everywhere, at home, at school, at church and in many other places.  Like
most teenagers Johnny and I had part time jobs to earn money, Johnny and
Bobby working at a store packing shelves while I would work shifts at a
restaurant waiting tables in my black dress and white apron.

   One time, Eric came in with his family and I was to serve them.  Poor
Eric, at 18-years-of-age having his mother and aunt sitting next to him
constantly reminding him to sit up straight, use his cutlery properly with
his mother at one stage using a table napkin to wipe soup from the corner
of her son's mouth.  I felt embarrassed for Eric, especially as all this
was happening in front of me.  All the time his father sat there saying
nothing as usual, plus they were lousy tippers.  I would have preferred
them to leave me no tip, rather than the insulting amount they did leave.

   "So, it's swell weather today?' I said, beginning to hang out my
clothes.

   "Yeah, I mean no, I mean I guess," said Eric, blushing and again looking
at my bare feet.

   I just acted casually and kept talking about various things as I pegged
out my clothes on the line, Eric getting more and more flustered especially
as I reached my underwear.  Most of my bras and panties were pure white,
but I had some pink, light blue and lemon colored underwear as well, and I
had to hide my amusement as Eric tried to make it seem as though he wasn't
looking at my bras and my panties now drying in the sun, his
spectacle-covered eyes going from the sky to the grass, to my bare feet, to
the trees and the power poles.

   With my last pair of panties now pegged out, I picked up the laundry
basket.  "Well see you later Eric," I said.

   "No, I mean maybe Betty, see you later," Eric stammered while blushing,
me feeling him watching the shape of my bottom through the denim of my
overalls.

   Eric kept casting discrete glances at my drying underwear as he
continued to trim the hedge, and my brothers and I continued to do our
chores, this time cleaning the first floor windows.  Our chores done, we
went back inside mid-morning to get ready for our afternoons.

   I noticed that Eric also headed back inside at the same time as I did,
and from my bedroom I noticed that Eric's bedroom curtains again were
twitching?  A spot of bird watching perhaps?  Or spying on the girl next
door?

   Knowing it was the latter, I went into the bathroom and opened the
window, before unclasping and pulling down my panties and sitting down
barefoot on the toilet, the seat again left up thanks to my ever thoughtful
brothers.  This time I wasn't on the toilet as long as this morning for the
simple reason I only needed to pee, but no doubt Eric enjoyed the show and
focusing his binoculars upon my pussy and my pubic hair, me keeping my
knees wide apart as I sat urinating into the toilet so he would have a good
view between my legs.

   My pee over, I got toilet paper and wiped my wet urethra and vulva, then
stood up and flushed the lavatory, pulling up my panties and overalls, then
washing my hands and leaving the bathroom.  Eric would see more interesting
things in my bedroom as I undressed completely and put on my sports briefs
and bra, then my baseball uniform, a light blue uniform with knee-length
pants and matching light blue socks.  I braided my blonde hair into two
long plaits, and put on my light blue baseball cap, grabbed my catchers'
mitt and was ready to go.

   While all this was happening, my brothers had been getting ready,
Johnny, Andy and Richie packing overnight bags.  The two younger boys were
already outside as Johnny and I emerged, me holding the keys to our
parents' car to drive into town.  Andy and Richie were staring at a passing
aircraft that flew away at some distance, a Catalina sea plane.

   Johnny laughed.  "You two boys looking for UFOs again?"

   Andy and Richie turned around and became defensive.  "No," Andy
asserted.

   "No we were looking at the plane, not for flying saucers," said Richie.

   It was my turn to laugh.  "Who are you two kidding, you're obsessed with
flying saucers."

   "No, you are obsessed with flying saucers Betty," Richie said, my
younger brother glowering at me.

   "Yes, I am," I joked sarcastically, knowing that my two brothers were
well and truly caught up in the UFO craze that had been sweeping America
since the last summer.  "So, have you remembered your toothbrushes?"

   Andy snorted in derision as we went into the garage.  "Yes Mom!"

   The boys put their things in the trunk, and while Andy and Richie
climbed into the back of Dad's car, while I got into the drivers' side and
started it.  Johnny stayed outside to close the garage door after I
reversed out, then jumped into the front passenger seat.  Before I could
back out further, Andy yelled out, "Hey Betty, there's your boyfriend!"

   Puzzled that Bobby was here as he was supposed to meet us at the sports
ground, I turned to look and there was Eric, pacing up and down near the
bus stop looking worried.

   "Yeah, really funny Andy," I said.

   "Eric really loves you, Betty," said Richie, he and Andy laughing.

   "Yeah, he does love you," said Andy.  "Betty, Betty, where for art thou,
Betty?"

   "He is such a square," said Richie.  "But he loves you Betty."

   From the back seat of the car, both of my younger brothers began to
sing. "Eric and Betty, sitting in a tree, K I S S I N G!"

   "Okay, you need to stop making fun of poor Eric," said Johnny.

   "But he's a loser, and it's fun to tease losers," asserted Andy.

   "Yeah!" agreed Richie.

   "No it's not, how would you feel if some boys thought you were losers
and teased you?" I pointed out.  I noticed that Eric was pacing up and down
still, looking most worried.  "I wonder what's wrong with him?  We'd better
see."

   "Oh, you're not going to stop are you?" the horrified Andy asked.

   "Yeah, if any of the other kids from school see they'll think we're
squares too," complained Richie bitterly.

   "Shush," Johnny warned our younger brothers, who looked out the car in
dismay least should anyone from their Junior High be in the vicinity and
see me stop and wind down the window.

   "Hey Eric, everything okay there?"

   Eric looked at the sky and then the sidewalk.  "Mother said I could go
into town."

   "Well, that sounds nice," I said.

   "It would be but I missed the bus and now I have to wait another hour,"
said Eric.  "I would ride my tricycle but one of the tyres was flat.  I
pumped it up but I'm worried it might go flat again and I'd get stuck in
town."

   The very mention of the word 'tricycle' had my younger brothers cringing
in horror.  They were embarrassed enough to live next door to a boy who at
age 18 rode a tricycle, hearing the subject mentioned in conversation made
them want to run away and join the army.

   "Well, that's no good, but how about we give you a lift?" I suggested.
"We're going into town anyway?"

   "Are you sure Betty?" Eric asked nervously.

   "Of course I am, plus it will save you money," I said.  "Now you'll only
have to buy a bus fare home."

   "Okay, thanks Betty," said Eric.  "As long as it is okay?"

   "Yeah, it's swell," said Johnny.  He turned to Andy and Richie.  "Boys,
shift over so Eric can get in the back."

   The boys rolled their eyes and did what Johnny told them only with the
greatest reluctance, and they looked most horrified as Eric got into the
back of the car and sat with them.

   "Thanks Betty," Eric said.

   "My pleasure," I said as I drove down the street, Andy and Richie
looking at the floor as much as they could, in case any classmates saw
their faces.

   "So um, ah, Betty, are you going to play softball today?" Eric asked.

   Andy snorted with derision.  "No of course not, she's just dressed like
that for fun."

   "Andy, mind your manners," Johnny warned as I brought the car to a stop
sign, and Andy and Richie slid down further in their seats as they saw a
group of boys and girls from their school riding towards us and worried
that they might be seen with America's biggest square.

   Finally we arrived at our first destination, and to the relief of Johnny
and myself our younger brothers they were dropped off to our aunt and
uncle's house to sleep over with their cousins and the other boys.  The
speed they both ran towards the house suggested that they might make the
USA running team for the upcoming London Olympics this summer.

   "Sorry about our brothers, they have no manners sometimes," I said to
Eric.

   "I haven't got any brothers," said Eric, somewhat sadly.  "Nor any
sisters.  Or cousins."

   "So where were you headed?" I asked.

   "I um, thought maybe, if you don't mind, if nobody else minds, that I
might watch you play softball?" Eric asked nervously.

   "Of course, you don't need to ask," I said laughing.  "Anyone who wants
to go can go."

   "Please don't tell Mother, she doesn't like sports," Eric pleaded.

   "I won't say anything, cross my heart, hope to die," I said.

   "Neither will I, your secret is safe with me," Johnny assured our
nervous neighbor.

   We reached the sports ground where our softball team played and we got
out of the car when I parked it, Eric managing to trip as he did so and go
sprawling, his glasses falling off his nose.

   "Eric, you okay?" I asked, as Johnny and I helped him back to his feet
and got his glasses, which fortunately were not broken.

   The major casualty seemed to be Eric's pride, the poor young man
blushing bright red at embarrassing himself in front of me again.  "I'm
okay thanks."

   "Hey Betty!" came a young male voice I recognized only too well, and I
turned to see my tall handsome boyfriend Bobby walking towards me, his
sister Evelyn behind him.  Like me Bobby was blonde, and his sister Evelyn
had brown hair, sort of the reverse from our family.  With them was Judy,
an attractive 18-year-old redhead who was Johnny's girlfriend.  Evelyn and
Judy were likewise on the softball team and wearing the same uniform as I
was.

   "Hey Bobby, how are you?" I asked as we embraced, and I felt his strong
arms around my waist.  We all stood talking, other players and their
boyfriends, friends and relatives joining us.  Bobby and I were holding
hands and I could not help but notice that Eric stood to one side, feeling
left out as was the case every day in school, his longing for me obvious.

   Bobby of course knew that Eric had had a crush on me for the longest
time, and he was very gracious about it possibly as Eric posed no threat at
all, in fact Bobby was very nice and polite to Eric.

   The game commenced and we took the field against the Catholic girls'
team, whose dark red uniforms contrasted with our sky blue uniforms. 
Several times as I stood at second base I saw Eric pacing up and down on
his own, clearly not understanding how to play softball, but he kept
looking at me while trying too hard to make it obvious that he wasn't.

   Johnny, Bobby and some of the other boys departed during a break between
innings, needing to get on the bus that would take them to their training
exercise overnight.  The game was a close one and bases were loaded as
Paula took the bat and strode to the plate, me standing at first, Doris on
second and Susan on third.

   We needed a miracle, and while Paula was good hitter Brenda, the
Catholic school pitcher, was very good at her craft and we already had two
out.  After incurring strike one from Brenda's pitch, Paula managed to belt
the ball way over the fielding teams' head right into the outfield for a
home run.  We all sprinted for home, and Paula had already reached home
plate and was safe as the ball was thrown back, we had won by one run in a
thrilling game.

   In the showers afterwards, my vagina felt all tingly as I imagined Eric
hiding in the change-rooms watching not only me shower, but my 18-year-old
team-mates too, Eric able to see our bare breasts and bottoms and the
brunette girls' brown triangles of pubic hair, the blonde girls with blonde
pubic hair and the redhead girls with curls of red hair over their public
mounds.  He would also have been able to observe lots of naked and nubile
18-year-old Catholic school girls in the next door change room showers,
brunettes with brown pubic hair; blondes with blonde pubic hair and
redheads with red pubic hair.

   Drying off and dressing again in my regular bra and panties, check shirt
and overalls, I put on my shoes and my softball uniform in my bag to take
home and wash.  I talked with the other girls and some of the kids from
school who had come to watch us play, then left to drive home.

   Eric had long gone, presumably to catch the bus home and avoid rousing
his parents' suspicions that he might have been doing something that they
disapproved of, like not only watching sports but watching the bad
influence girl from next door playing sports.

   It was quiet at home with my brothers all away overnight and our
parents' not due home until late in the evening.  I brought in my laundry,
and fed the cat her dinner with Rosie very impatient that I wasn't
performing the task as quickly as she would have liked.  I talked to my
boyfriend's sister Evelyn on the phone for a while, wondering if Eric was
listening in to the call on the party line, but if he was it wouldn't have
heard anything interesting, most of it was about the baseball game this
afternoon, what the boys were getting up to on their night away and school.

   I heated up some left over casserole for my dinner, and then finished
off an English essay and a calculus paper for school next week while
listening to the radio.  My parents would have been pleased with me being a
square and studying on a Saturday night then retiring to bed early after a
busy day.  True, my boyfriend being away overnight was a major factor in me
doing bad things with my hands, mouth and vagina.  But there was something
else definitely in my mind.  And it was something Mom and Dad would never
approve of me doing.

   Turning out the lights on the first floor, I mounted the stairs into the
bathroom and brushed my teeth, then went into my bedroom, the drapes wide
open.  I could see that the lights in Eric's bedroom were illuminated
through the drapes, but as the curtains twitched the lights went out.  I
smiled.  Eric was there and now he could see what I had planned for his
eyes only.

   I removed my shoes and was barefoot, then took off my overalls and
shirt, putting them away and walking around in my bra and panties.  I then
took my hairbrush and a wash-cloth and initially used the hairbrush for its
proper purpose; brushing out my plaits while sitting on my bed in my
underwear.  What I did next however was definitely not proper behavior for
a young lady.  I laid on my back on the bed, opening my legs wide and
showing off my white pants to the boy next door.

   My vagina was already aroused even before I put my hand between my legs,
touching my private female area through the soft white cotton of my teen
panties, tracing the shape of my vulva in my pants.  My nipples tingled as
I touched my breasts through the white fabric of my brassiere.  Knowing
that Eric was watching all this drove me wild.

   The double cotton saddle of my panties was plenty damp when I removed my
underpants, and the nipples of my large breasts hard as I took off my bra,
casting my underwear to one side.  I spread my legs wide open, giving Eric
a grandstand view of my vagina, opening my legs wider still so he could see
my anus too.

   I stroked my own pubic hair, thinking about Bobby touching me there and
Eric wishing he could touch me there, then inserted some fingers up my damp
and aroused pussy, writing on the bed as I self-pleasured myself, my
fingers getting sticky as I pushed them further up my female love hole,
stroked my slim vaginal lips and circled my clitoris.

   Other fingers I moved lower down, fingering the sensitive skin that
separated my vulva from my anus, and then my anus properly, pushing the
finger at the tight puckered opening.

   Fingers were all well and good, but what I really wanted was something
long and hard inserted up my vagina, and the rounded handle of my hairbrush
was perfect.  Taking my wet and feminine-scented fingers out of my crotch,
I took hold of my hairbrush and inserted the handle up my pussy, gasping as
it entered me and my bare toes clenched.

   There was plenty of lubrication for me to move the brush back and forth,
and I did just this, the phallic object feeling so good up inside me.  Not
as good as my boyfriend's penis, but still pretty good, and even better
given Eric was watching the whole show.  While masturbating I put the
fingers of my left hand to my anus, and this time not only did I touch my
most forbidden and private place with my index finger, I inserted the digit
up there, feeling the hot tight walls of my rectum close around it.

   Whenever I put a finger up into my anus I always felt a bit funny at
first, like I needed to sit down on the toilet and have a bowel movement,
but always got used to it and the feeling of having something inserted up
my rear end and Eric watching me doing it drove me wild.  I spread my legs
wider, and pushed the hairbrush handle up my vagina more, feminine moans
escaping my mouth and my bedroom starting to smell like vagina.

   I wasn't sure what to be more aroused by, the thought of my boyfriend's
penis going up my vagina rather than the handle of my hairbrush or the
strange boy next door watching me masturbating like this, but with the
sticky wetness flowing from my pussy I knew my orgasm was approaching as I
writhed on the bed.

   The feelings in my clitoris turned to one massive wave of pleasure that
went through my vagina and up into my uterus, spreading through my body and
into my back passage, the muscles in my anus and rectum closing tight
around my finger.  I cried out, my face contorted as I reached my orgasm,
and sticky vaginal wetness flowed everywhere, the female smell in my
bedroom getting stronger.  My long legs kicked out, the toes of my bare
feet clenched tightly and knowing that Eric could see me in this state made
it even hotter.

   My orgasm reached my bare breasts, my nipples tingling and I gasped as
the climax swept my entire body.  Recovering my breath, my heart pounding
with excitement at my forbidden display I lay on my bed, my legs still wide
apart with my hairbrush handle still up my post-orgasmic pussy, my index
finger still up my bottom.

   Getting back to normal, I extricated my finger from my anus and the
hairbrush handle out of my vulva, the brush as to be expected sticky and
smelling of pussy.  I took the cloth and wiped the handle, then got off the
bed, deliberately bending over and thrusting my bare bottom in the
direction of the window so Eric could see more of my rear end.

   Totally alone in the house aside from my cat, I walked in complete
nudity to the bathroom with my washcloth, the window still wide open. 
Running the cloth under the faucet and standing naked in front of the
bedroom showing off my breasts to my voyeur, it was time for my bottom to
have a wash.  Well, both my bottoms to be accurate.

   First I squatted slightly then dipped the cloth between my legs, giving
my vagina a thorough wash.  Rinsing the sticky remnants of my orgasm from
the cloth, I then turned my back to the window and applied to cloth to my
bare bottom, washing my anus and the surrounding areas.  Rinsing the cloth
again and putting it aside to dry, I got a towel and dried first my vulva
and then my bottom.

   Feeling nice and fresh between my legs and around my backside, I closed
the bathroom window, turned off the light and walked naked back to my
bedroom where I put on the finale to my little show for Eric by taking
fresh panties from my underwear drawer and putting them on, then my
nightdress.  I closed the drapes, turned off the light and slid my bare
feet under the covers and falling asleep, only stirring when my parents
returned home later in the evening.

   *

   Sunday meant church but it began in a way that was definitely sinful, me
sitting on the toilet emptying for five minutes with the window open while
the strange young man watched everything I was doing in my private moments
in the bathroom, then me undressing to take my shower and dressing in my
'Sunday best' -- a pink dress, a pink bra and pink panties underneath,
white flat shoes on my feet, my blonde hair pulled back in a prim pony-tail
with a pink ribbon.

   Normally, the trip to church meant me crammed into the back of the car
alongside my three brothers but with the boys away it meant I got to enjoy
the back of my father's car to myself today.  As Dad pulled into the car
park, I could see that the Higgins family had already arrived, driven by
Eric's Aunt Edna as neither Eric nor his parents could drive an automobile.

   The three older members of the family were talking -- well Mrs.  Higgins
and her sister were as Eric's father stood in silence as usual -- and Eric
was clearly looking out for me to arrive, while trying to make it obvious
he wasn't.

   A look of relief came over his face as soon as he saw Dad's car with me
in the back seat, Dad driving and Mom in the passenger seat.  He again
tried and failed to make it look like he wasn't watching me, and I
pretended I didn't notice, but as I exited the vehicle I couldn't resist
being bad again.

   Somehow, I allowed my knees to come open, giving Eric a great view up my
pink dress and to the matching pink panties I wore underneath.  I saw
Eric's eyes bulge even through his thick glasses at my panty flash, and was
more than a little amused by what happened next.  Eric was wearing a suit
-- a very dull brown suit that smelled like mothballs despite him wearing
it every Sunday -- and he very quickly had to remove the jacket and hold it
to cover the front of his trousers.

   This excited me in intimate ways too, but with the advantage of being a
girl I didn't have any problems walking to church unless somebody happened
to look down my panties, which of course wasn't going to happen.

   Eric hoped that nobody would notice that he had taken off his jacket to
deal with a certain problem, but his mother did.  "Eric, put your jacket on
when we go into church," she hissed.

   Her son blushed bright red.  "Mom, it's warm today."

   Today was a grey day, although it didn't look like rain, contrasting
with the spring sunshine we had enjoyed on Saturday.  "Nonsense Eric, it is
a cool day, put on your jacket right now," snapped Mrs.  Higgins.

   "And straighten your tie while you are at it, young man," admonished
Aunt Edna.

   Being chastened by his mother and aunt seemed to solve Eric's problem
and he was able to put the jacket on without any embarrassment and walk
into church.  His family sat through the service on their own as usual, and
when it came to an end, I noticed him looking with interest at my bottom as
I discretely adjusted my panties through my dress when walking by.

   The drive home was a bit more crowded, my younger brothers having been
delivered to church by our aunt and uncle and Dad driving us all home. 
Johnny returned just after lunch with Bobby, and along with some of our
friends both male and female we decided to go cycling in the afternoon.

   For this, I changed into an old blouse and a pair of knee-length pedal
pusher pants before cycling away with my twin brother, boyfriend, his
sister and the rest of our friends.  I noticed Eric looking wistfully in
our direction as we went on our way, and just for a minute or so raised my
bottom off my bicycle seat.  I could feel him watching my rear end, as he
always did when I was wearing my pedal-pusher pants, overalls, blue jeans,
shorts or even just a casual pair of slacks.

   *

   Monday morning dawned grey, cool and drizzly but as we had high school,
it didn't seem to make too much difference.  In the corridor Eric, dressed
in his trousers, shirt and pullover was at his locker, my own locker right
next to his.

   "Hi Eric," I said.

   "Oh hi um, Betty, how are you, isn't it a nice day?" Eric stammered
awkwardly.

   I smiled.  "Eric, it's raining and cold today."

   Eric blushed.  "Um yeah, so it is, it is raining, I forgot," he said, me
feeling him looking at my breasts today encased in a blue sweater, a blue
knee-length skirt on my lower half.

   "So calculus first up," I said.  "Did you manage to work out question
nine?  I only guessed it, I couldn't make head nor tail of it."

   "Um yes, I mean no, I mean I don't know," said Eric.

   Again, I laughed.  "You don't seem very sure."

   Eric stared at his brown leather shoes.  "Um yeah."

   Adjacent to these lockers was the high school's main girls' bathroom. 
It was a long bleak narrow room with 50 toilet cubicles, 30 along one wall,
and 20 against the other, and a long row of sinks.  The partitions and
stall doors weren't designed to give the girls maximum privacy, there was a
fair bit of space underneath, but there was one toilet few girls dared to
use.

   This was the first cubicle in the row of 30, and the problem was that
the external door of the girls' toilet was always kept ajar during the day,
and this first cubicle was visible to anyone passing by.  Therefore if a
girl was sitting on this toilet, any person who glanced in could see her
feet and her lowered panties under the door and partition.  Girls avoided
it like the plague, and I don't think the school would have had to change
the toilet roll in there since 1918 due to lack of use.

   I turned and indicted the female toilets.  "I just need to go to the
bathroom, so I'll see you for calculus first period."

   "Yeah, see you then Betty," Eric said, giving me a shy wave.

   I went into the girls' room.  It wasn't really a place I relished
visiting.  Peeing was okay, but if I needed to empty my bowels it wasn't a
nice experience.  Reality dictated though that I had to do it once a day at
least, often twice and more when I was on my period.  Actually periods were
another reason these girls bathrooms were not my favorite place, each stall
contained an open bin in which menstruating girls placed their used
sanitary pads when changing them.  Therefore when you went in here to go to
the toilet and looked into the bins, you could see the soiled napkins of
girls who had been in here earlier in the day.

   Another problem was the toilet paper, which was rough and scratchy and
seemed to have been designed not to absorb anything, bad any day of the
month, much worse for the girls having their monthlies.  Even the school
putting newspaper in the bathroom for us to use to wipe our bottoms would
probably be better than our toilet paper.

   Today of course wasn't my ladies' days but even if it had been, I
wouldn't have let it stop me from what I was going to do.  I went into the
first cubicle, the one the girls avoided at all cost, and closed and locked
the door, knowing that Eric could see the lock change from the green vacant
to the red engaged.  I lifted my skirt, pulled my light blue panties down
to my ankles and sat down on the toilet.

   I looked down at my lowered panties as I urinated, my vulva getting damp
not only from pee but from feminine excitement too as I thought about how
Eric could see my panties under the stall door and partition.  Getting
toilet paper I wiped my damp and sticky pussy, then remained sitting on the
toilet to have my poo, spending well over five minutes on the toilet.

   Each time I got the school's awful toilet paper and wiped my bottom, I
would think about how Eric was looking at my panties right now.  That this
was happening at school was even sexier than his voyeurism at home.  My
toilet paper would stick to my aroused vagina, before I dragged it
backwards to my anus.

   Finally finished, I stood up and flushed the toilet, literally having to
pull the chain as the school's toilets were old fashioned and had
chain-pull cisterns.  I emerged from the toilet stall adjusting my panties
through my skirt after pulling them up, then went to the sink and washed my
hands.  Not to my great surprise I saw Eric sitting on the bench opposite
the girls' room, and feigned surprise to see him.

   "Hi Eric, what are you still doing here I thought you would have gone to
math by now?" I asked, acting the mock innocent.

   Eric blushed.  "Oh hi, um Betty, I just um, ah, forgot to, I mean I
dropped a file and had to pick up the papers," he said, his face showing
relief at thinking up a lie.

   "That's annoying when that happens," I said.  "So what say we walk to
math class now?"

   Eric went bright red and he looked most afraid.  "Oh no, sorry Betty, I
um, have a bit of a leg cramp and I can't stand up.  You head off without
me."

   "Well, see you in class Eric, I hope your leg cramp feels better," I
said.

   "Thanks Betty," he managed to stammer.

   I went to class, feeling more than satisfied with what I had done, and
Eric arrived about two minutes later, his 'leg cramp' having cleared up.  I
sighed as I noticed that in the short distance between the lockers and the
classroom that some idiots had stuck a 'kick me' sign to Eric's back, and
fortunately Bobby and Johnny noticed as he went into class, relieving him
of the sign.

   We all sat at our desks and seemed to be paying attention to our teacher
as he wrote lots of complicated equations on the blackboard.  But I kept
feeling Eric's eyes upon me, no doubt thinking about his unrequited crush
upon me and how he saw so much more of me in the bathroom and my bedroom
not to mention glimpses of my panties up my skirts or dresses and my
underwear on the line than he ever could have dreamed of.

   And under my skirt, the soft cotton saddle of the light blue panties I
was wearing absorbed my feminine wetness between my legs as I thought about
all the naughty displays I would put on for the voyeur boy next door.  I
couldn't wait.