This is not a work of pure fiction; it's not a verbatim record of events, either. Rather it's a recovered and organized memory with partly imagined details. What I mean is -- the events happened; to me and to my friends; but I have had to reinvent the dialogue. The emotions have stayed with me and I have not had to remember, invent or reconstruct a single one. However, all the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictional. No resemblance to real people of events is intended. So there; if you think you recognize yourself or the events, you can't sue me! This part has taken longer to write than I hoped for various reasons. To the young lady in the US who sent me very private photographs of herself: I'm sorry but I was shocked that I deleted them along with your e-mail address. Please write again (you know who you are) without photographs, and we will talk, I promise. Guess what. Miss Buckingham e-mailed me! It's not her real name of course, but guess where she lives now:- Buckingham-shire!
After JJ's party at which I encountered ecstasy in the form of Nikki, heaven in the form of caviar, and purgatory in the revulsion showed by the maid, you join us at the point where I became slowly convinced that Hillie and JJ had become lovers months before.
But I didn't quiz Hillie. Even when I washed her back, lovingly and sensually, running my hands around the sides of her breasts, I didn't ask how she knew about JJ's domestic arrangements; I just didn't know how to. Part of me ached to know the awful details, but part of me knew already. As I had lain there on her bed, I think I worked out the sequence of events; the week after Christmas, when Mum and I -- and Little Brother -- were skiing -- Hillie had come here to JJ's. So when she asked if sex with Nikki was `Ok?' perhaps this told me what she thought of her experience with JJ. After washing her back, I watched her as she dressed. In the languor of the morning I could have watched her forever. Her body moved in calm and liquid motion, displaying perfectly sculpted muscle, tendon and bone in beautiful harmony. A noise behind me. "Knock, knock!" JJ's voice as she opened the door. "Are you decent? I most certainly hope you are not." Hillie turned to face the door and finished doing up her trousers. "Alas, I am too late for a sneaky peek" Nikki followed her into the bedroom and I tried to catch her eye, to find some remembrance in her of our passion the night before. But she just smiled at me with her open and beautiful smile, oblivious of personal meaning or value. She walked passed me towards the window and I watched her pass me, Hillie caught me doing so and kept her gaze upon me as she spoke. "JJ, you were extremely drunk last night. Do you remember any of the awful things you said to us?" "I know darling, but it's just my way of expressing my love of you all. And no, I do not regret anything I said." "Non, je ne regrete rien" She sang, striking a Piaff-esque pose in her black blouse and skirt. "Was I really that bad?" "Yes." We all chorused, and giggled. "Breakfast. I want breakfast!" And she looked at me with furrowed brow and intensive expression. "Rachel, we need to talk." I couldn't help it, my eyes flicked to Nikki and back again. JJ still stared at me, she had seen and knew. She glanced down at my chest. "Rachel, you are changing! How refreshing to find a girl who eschews both convention and brassieres and shows her tits!" We went downstairs for breakfast.
I suppose that one gets used to servants. Both using them and ignoring them at the same time. I carefully observed JJ's interaction with Susan the maid. JJ would calmly pronounce orders to her between sentences of discourse to us with barely a pause, but with acres of difference in the meaning. Susan was expected to discern the difference between sexually charged banter and indirect instructions with barely a demi-quaver delay. So she had to be listening to everything, didn't she? And so JJ couldn't care if Susan heard everything; could she? I could not resolve this.
At eleven-thirty a car scrunched its way into the gravel drive; it was for Nikki and although no parent came to the door for her, she kissed us all on the cheeks and fled JJ's house with her bag flying behind her. "One down." Said JJ airily. "What are we all going to do next year?" and she clasped her hands together in mock imploring of the heavens. "How shall we all find sexual satisfaction without her?" Hillie looked at each other without understanding anything JJ was saying. ""JJ, explain." Said Hillie with a tone of bored finality in her voice. "Darling, it's quite simple. After just one year in our glorious, exalted and peculiar company. Young Nicola's parents have decided that she has learned quite enough of our ways of ecstasy and are intent on removing her to a different, co-educational school where, it is hoped, she will be more responsive' to the opposite sex, rather than her own." Still standing she span and looked at us over her shoulder. "They don't want a queer' for a daughter who gets fucked by girls like me." She looked at us both with crumbling composure. "I'm going to have a bath and a wank. You two can fuck off." And she swaggered off upstairs leaving Hillie and I open-mouthed.
I think that was the first time I realized that what I felt and what I did actually was repulsive to some people and that they would take positive and drastic measures to prevent it. Parents were powerful; they could re-organise your world on a whim. I felt my world close in about me. Everyone I knew would be a potential adversary to my sexuality unless they proved otherwise. But how was I to test them? How did I expose my sexuality to them to gauge their response without laying myself open to instant condemnation? Maybe that was why Nikki had left our bed so soon after our love making, to tell JJ of her parent's decision. It was clear to both of us that despite her bravado JJ was awfully upset by Nikki's impending departure, and I don't think Nikki had told JJ during the party itself. And I wasn't sure how I felt about it either, I was in love with Nikki although I knew it was hopeless and silly, and I couldn't bear to be without her smile again. All I really wanted to do was stop time somehow so that I could go on living this summer with Nikki forever. But as we left JJ's that morning I could not help but think of Hillie's words about Nikki leading to nothing but a broken heart. I realized it was true, but that the broken heart was not to be mine.
Back at school on Monday, the next-to-last week of term. All the sophistication of the weekend had evaporated as we returned to school in our neat uniforms and sensible shoes. In each subject lesson we received the results of our school exams. JJ had done predictably brilliantly, Hillie had done well through her undoubted hard work and persistence. Me, I did appallingly badly in all the sciences; adequately well in History, French, Latin; and English Literature, and I came top in the only two subjects that mattered to me-- Music and Art. JJ turned up only to receive her exam results; she looked downcast and despondent. All vitality appeared to have left her. And Nikki? We didn't see her at all.
I tried to get Nikki's home address from the Secretary. "I'm sorry Rachel, we can't give you the address of an ex-pupil." "Ex-pupil! She's left?" I was stunned. "I need her home address because she's got my book; she owes me money as well. Please give it to me!" "The School cannot divulge-" "I really need her address, please!" "Rachel. That is sufficient." A new voice. Soft but decisive away to the side. It was Miss Buckingham. "Nicola has left the School immediately at the insistence of her parents. It would be inappropriate for you to compromise their relationship with her by contacting her directly. If you have a legitimate piece of correspondence, please pass it to the school authorities - unsealed- and we will forward it to Nicola's family. Otherwise, please desist and leave her alone now: I think Joanna may need your friendship and support more than Nicola just at the moment" Bucky was right, of course. JJ was nothing short of miserable. Where we had become used to her parading around with gorgeous Nikki on her arm and hurling acerbic comments at all about her, she was now reduced to sullen bitchiness; I felt pity for her. "Did you know she was leaving?" "Not until she told me on Sunday morning -- 'Good morning darling, I'm leaving you' -- definitely demotes a hangover to the least of ones' priorities". "Where's she going next term?" "Another school, darling. With boys in it" "What's it called JJ?" "Oh sod off, Rachel. You had your fun with her just as I did. Leave it -- and her, alone. And me -- leave me alone too!"
As was customary, once proper lessons had finished for the summer, we were all put to work sorting out the school and readying it for summer shutdown and then the new academic year to follow. Hillie and I were allocated to the library, where Mrs O'Connor, the librarian was off on maternity leave and Sister Cecilia, the nun in charge was utterly hopeless. We were tasked with sorting out the tickets for the books out on loan; easy work but absolutely boring. So we chatted as we worked to keep ourselves awake in this warm summer, and I had a book on Michaelangelo's Sistine Chapel open before me.
"Hillie, did you go to JJ's at all over Chistmas?" Lazily, I turned the page and looked at Adam's outstretched hand. "After all, you do live close together, don't you?" I'd worked out that, although they boarded different buses after school, JJ and Hillie lived less than a mile apart. "Yes, think so." Hilie answered vaguely. "Why?" "Were you close with her, you know. Close." I lifted my gaze from the angels on the page to the angel before me. Hillie caught my eye and dropped her gaze to the tray of library cards before her. "Why d'you ask?" "Just want to know. Were you?" "Yes, Rae. I stayed overnight with her. It was when you were skiing and we were both bored. So I stayed" "Did you do anything?" I used Hillie's euphemism deliberately as one she would recognize. And she nodded. "What was it like for you?" "Horrid." "What happened?" She took a deep breath, then raised her head and looked far away through the window. "If you must know, she pulled me about and scratched me, inside" Hillie's head went down and she studied her fingers clasped before her. I sat quietly as it all came tumbling out. "I don't know what you did with Nikki, but JJ just wanted to pinch my nipples and then shove all her fingers inside me. And her nails scratched!" She looked into my eyes. "I just hated it. But I wanted to know, to find out how sex could be. So I let her do everything. I didn't know how to stop her pushing her fingers up and down and biting my nipple at the same time. I thought I'd get to like it after a while, but it was just horrid." Looking back out of the window now, and I felt her shame and despair. "And then she had a thingy, you know, a plastic willy" "A dildo?" I offered. "Yes, and that hurt too." "Did she push it in you?" "Yes, it was awful. And then she wanted me to kiss her, down there. I just couldn't." Her lip quivered. I moved around the table to sit next to her and pulled her closer to kiss her on the temple. It was the first time I had kissed a girl in school, nervously I glanced around to see if anyone in this quiet library had seen, but we were quite private and alone. And so I kissed her again with my arms draped about her shoulders. Quietly she melted in to me as I held her. "Making love is not always like that." I offered. "It should be filled with tenderness and well, love." I continued. "Girls should be gentle with each other and pay attention to all the little important things. Love is easy if you're kind and loving." Listen to me! As if I knew it all, Hillie looked up into my face totally defenceless and utterly beautiful. I looked carefully and deliberately down the aisle of the library, then bent my head towards her and kissed her on the lips. Soft, sweet lips that kissed back and tasted slightly of Parma Violets. My hand swept easily to the outside of her legs. One more kiss and we would be way beyond the point of no return, she would make a sexual commitment to me and I to her. We were going to be open and honest in our sexuality with each other and I would reach her very soul with gentle and affectionate loving. My heart was beating faster as I held this luscious beauty to my breast. And then from around the shelves of books, I heard the door squeak open.
And then, it was the end of term. On the Saturday after the end of term, I held my fifteenth birthday party. It was Mum's suggestion, I wasn't sure what to do, but she kept up the pressure and I just sort of went along with it. She and Little Brother would stay upstairs with the telly from the lounge and I would have the three rooms downstairs plus the kitchen, until midnight. All day Saturday we prepared food and drinks, ready for the evening. I had invited all the girls from my class, with or without partners, and I looked forward to welcoming them all. Mum bought wine, beer and cider for us -- not too much, and well out weighed by Coke and Fanta, but alcohol nonetheless: it was going to be a great party. The evening was warm and sultry and I wore a cerise halter neck top (no bra, again) and a long deep blue, floaty Indian cheesecloth skirt. I pinched some of Mum's Indian silver jewelry to set it off and although she saw it and recognized it, Mum said nothing. So I scooted back upstairs and pinched her Osca De La Renta perfume as well! Everyone arrive between seven and seven-thirty and we started rocking the night away. Most of the girls I knew well, but there were three or four in my year I knew hardly at all and I was specially pleased that they had come as well. Bernadette was one of those. She was slim and dark with black-rimmed glasses and very Irish, we'd hardly spoken in class, but here she was arriving at my birthday party. "Happy birthday Rachel, this is for you." And she gave me a soft package of orange crepe paper. "Oh goodness! I didn't expect this." And I gave her a hug and a peck on the cheek. And I thought, I just thought that she responded. "Shall I open it now?" "Yes. No, save it for later." She said hurriedly looking over her shoulder as more guests arrived behind her. I put the crinkly package on the top of the bookshelf behind me and welcomed the others in.
It was wonderful to have everyone, well almost everyone, here with me. JJ had declined the invitation, gracefully. She and her parents were leaving on Sunday for the Maldives -- whatever they were -- and time did not permit etc etc. And of course, Nikki was not there either. I couldn't help it. I looked for her everywhere; silly, I know. But I half expected to just turn and see her from the corner of my eye smiling at me. We danced and sang and drank and ate for what seemed like hours. Some girls had brought boyfriends and actually, Hillie had brought boyfriend Vernon and someone else with her. She'd telephoned earlier in the day and asked if she could bring Vernon's cousin too as his family were down for a visit. Of course, I'd agreed, in many ways thankful for another male! But when I met Vernon's cousin, I realized this was no token male. Guy was gorgeous. Tall, dark and beautifully handsome. And perfectly muscled and chiseled and everything. He was, as they say sex on legs'. And to cap it all, he was utterly unassuming and genuinely charming. He didn't presume or dominate. He was witty, lively and captivating. I suppose that as I was the hostess' so to speak, Guy would be expected to pay me most attention. But after making friends with the crowd, he did exactly that and paid me the wonderful compliment of his company. As the evening progressed we laughed and played together. I was flirting outrageously with him and genuinely uncertain what I would do if he took the bait'. It was so delicious to fold myself into him, into his broad chest and just be weak and girly' for a few minutes. We danced the fast songs and now, we came together for a slow one. I held him with one hand on his back and the other clasping his. Guy's right hand rested on my back; at about waist level. Everything was respectable as we started to dance, but I became aware that something else was coming between us. Guy was getting an erection! I was horrified, but also slightly curious as this hard lump kept thumping into my navel as we glided round the room. It felt enormous and unbelievably hard; it felt hot, powerful and well, potent. In spite of myself, I wanted to know more. He dipped his head towards me and mumbled into my hair. "Rachel. I most humbly apologise." "What for?" I asked and stood back slightly to look up, demurely into his eyes. "For my monstrous stiffy!" And I erupted in laughter. I couldn't help it, I just screamed with laughter as Guy tried his best to hold me upright. I prised myself away from his grasp and ran out of the French doors onto the terrace. He followed, as I hoped he would. So I carried on walking down the garden. "Your what?" I screamed. "It's never really happened before." "You're seventeen; it must have happened before." "Yes, but not like this!" "Not like what?" "You know. With a girl." I just stood, open mouthed and watched Guy squirm. This big, beautiful male was going to tell me something Very Important Indeed. "It's just that I haven't. I mean I don't, well. You know. At school it's just boys together. And I have never felt y'know close' to girls per se. It's difficult. " "Tell me, Guy." "I haven't ever kissed a girl before, only boys. And I've only ever been with other boys -- at school. So I don't know what. A girl is like. But you make me excited' and I'm embarrassed." "Are you telling me that at school you have only had homosexual liaisons, and that as a result, you're not sure how to relate to me?" His big shoulders went down and he visibly sagged two or three inches before me. "Yes, I suppose that's right. You get lonely in school, so it's the only way when your younger. And all the older boys know it, too. So when you grow up, it's too late." "Guy. It's ok, I understand. Come here and hold me" He stumbled forward like a lost child and threw his arms about me. I had power over him. And he was beautiful. Privately, I knew exactly how he felt, and that was the power I had over him. Gently, I broke our embrace. "Now let's go back. It'll be fine. You'll be with me." He nodded.
I led Guy back indoors and we danced again to another song -- fast this time and I twirled off into the shadows to collect someone I had spotted there. I wound my arm around Bernadette's waist and pulled her out away from the wall into the light. "No, Rachel. Please." I ignored her remonstrations and twirled her about between me and Guy. With my arm around her slim waist we danced together as I pulled her closer to myself and steered her towards Guy who took my lead and grabbed one of Bernadette's hands, kissing it and raising her arm as we three now danced together. She looked so shy, and Guy looked so carefree as he threw back a lock of his dark hair from his forehead. The song was Roxy Music and Guy moved exactly like Brian Ferry. Bernadette began to dance, and although she faced me not Guy, she loosened up and began to respond to the music. When my arm had encircled her waist I felt the waistband of her high knickers beneath my fingers; she held promise and was interesting. As she danced I watched her carefully, trying to imagine the shape of her body through her purple dress. I pulled her in front of me, back towards me and put my hands on her hips as we danced. Just girls having silly fun, but oh, how I enjoyed it. Hillie appeared, dragging that oaf Vernon into the dance behind her. Hillie was in a strapless ruched aquamarine top that was beginning to offer a little too much to the eye, and so I tried to gesture to her to pull it up, but she was oblivious to my meaning. Eventually, I pulled her away on the pretense of getting a drink and reached over to pull the top further up over her boobs. Hillie looked down as I did it. "Rae, I thought you cared!" And she dissolved in laughter. At the makeshift bar on our dining room table, she reached beneath and fished out her shoulder bag, fumbling with the draw-string tie. After a struggle she produced a bottle of Smirnoff that was already half consumed. "Got some!" she yelled triumphantly. "Let's have a drink" and she sloshed huge measures into paper cups, barely diluting the spirit with Coke. She gulped hers down, while I sipped cautiously. "Hillie, I think you've had enough." "Bugger off. You're worse than my mother, Rachel!" And she lurched off back towards the music where Bernadette was now dancing enthusiastically with Guy.
Suddenly it was time for everyone to go. Parents and taxis started to appear outside and my guests ebbed away. JJ, Vernon and Guy left together, and I while I gave Hillie a squeeze, I made sure to kiss Guy on the lips for several seconds. One of the last to depart was Bernadette; her father arrive just after the witching hour I walked her to the door and as she said her goodbyes, I remembered her gift on the shelf behind me. "Thanks so much for the present, Bernadette. So unexpected. It's awfully sweet of you!" And I pulled her to me intending a kiss on the cheek, but at the last second she twisted in my arms and we kissed on the lips, breaking apart immediately. She looked at me through her dark-framed glasses and said, very quietly "Thank you" and ran down the garden path to the waiting car. I wasn't sure what I had experienced or what she had meant, just wasn't sure. I had never paid her much attention at school, she was one of a few science and maths experts that I neither understood nor observed. But here she was, offering me an unexpected glimpse of her character that I would now have to wait until September to examine more closely.
Later, much later, in my bedroom I opened Bernadette's gift. It was the lightest, sheerest, white camisole top you could ever imagine. The soft fabric was shot through with silver so that it shone and sparkled as it turned in the light. I slipped it on; it felt cool and smooth on my boobs. Examining myself in the mirror, I could see my nipples outlined through the translucent fabric; this was erotic wardrobe and the message of the sender was becoming discernable
And although the summer holidays stretched away before me like an undiscovered country, I wished to be in the familiar territory of September, returning to school and learning more about Bernadette.
I spoke to Hillie on the phone just before my family went away for the summer. "Did you enjoy the party?" I asked. "Mmn, great. But not the ride back. Guy was in the front; Vernon and I were in the back and he was getting y'know -- lusty. I wasn't having any of that of course. We were almost home when I threw up all over him!" And we both descended into gales of laughter. I just couldn't imagine Vernon's disgust and discomfort at having half a bottle of second hand vodka over his trousers. "He was furious! And Guy just laughed and laughed, which made it all the worse! Vernon nearly hit him!" Her voice descended to whispered intrigue."Anyway what did you to Guy? He' wouldn't stop talking about you and how wonderful you were to him?" "Guy? I did nothing to him" "You kissed him. On the lips." she said accusingly. "What else did you do?" "Nothing!" "You were down the garden with him!" "Were you watching?" "No. Did you like him?" "Not like that." "No, I know." "I still don't know really. Even after Nikki." "I know that, too."
Mum had booked a cottage for three weeks. It was far to the west, in a small town on the coast that had ferries across the river and fishing trawlers and tiny paved streets climbing the flanks of the steep river valley. Our cottage was on the Market Square, one of the few patches of flat land in the entire town. And so on the last day of July we crossed the country in our overloaded car to X. The plan was that Mum and I would stay three weeks, but Toby -- little brother -- would join his father in Z after a week or so leaving Mum and me alone. The cottage was tiny with just two bedrooms on the first floor and the bathroom on the ground floor, so the arrangement was that Mum and I would share the double bedroom for the first half. And then when Toby was with his father, I would have the back bedroom to myself. The owner's of the cottage also lived on the square and had another cottage to rent next to us. By sheer chance the owners had a daughter of about my age, Diane. She was a Celtic' beauty with black hair and blue eyes, full figure and flamboyant temperament. Diane and I made friends almost immediately and through her I met Eloise and Queenie' King. Queenie's real name was also Rachel, too. But I was reliably assured that she hadn't been called that for more than four years -- so Queenie it was.
Both Eloise and Queenie had holiday jobs, one in a café, the other selling tickets for river cruises on the quay. Diane earned a little money at the riding stables walking youngsters as they clung to their ponies. And so it was only on Sunday that we were all free. "Let's all go to the beach, then. For the whole day!" We all agreed enthusiastically and made plans of how to get there and who would bring what. What fun we would have! I looked forward to spending a day with these new friends on the local beach. "Have you told her about the beach?" Queenie to Diane. Diane said nothing. "You haven't. Have you." Eloise to Diane. "What about the beach?" I asked nervously. Diane didn't answer. She just looked at Eloise. "You tell her." Said Queenie. Eloise kept looking at Diane, but spoke to me. "You see, it's very private. And it's about half a mile from the road. So no tourists ever go there. So we don't bother with clothes." Her eyes flicked towards me. "You all right with that"?" All eyes swiveled towards me and the room stilled, so what else could I say "Oh yes. That's fine with me."
Saturday night, before the great beach adventure, I sneaked into the tiny bathroom with a pair of scissors. There was a shaving mirror on the wall and I unhooked it so that I could give my fuzz a neat and symmetrical trim. Next I had to collect all the trimmings into a paper bag and dispose of it without Mum seeing. I still wasn't quite sure whether the girls were telling the truth about the nude beach or not, or even if I would have the courage to peel, so I put my bikini on underneath my clothes just in case. I'd heard about nude sunbathing but neither seen it or done it. The closest I had come, the night with Nikki apart, was a quick flash in the changing rooms at school.
We collected together all laden with food and drink and caught the early bus up and out of the town before the road led it down to XX Sands and then to YY. We got off at the first stop and walked back under the towering red cliffs for the half mile or so that Eloise had described.
We had walked along a deserted stretch of sand, but here, as the beach curved around into a cove, there was a light scattering of bodies. And on closer inspection they were all naked. A couple of families, two or three couples and three teenage boys -- and us. We plonked ourselves down just above the water and spread organized our pitch for the day. I sat between Queenie on my left and Diane on my right; Eloise was further to the right. Queenie started first by pulling off her t-shirt and pulling down her pink bra, turning it around her middle and unclipping it. Queenie's skin was pleasantly tanned and she had dark brown hair, so a pink bra looked a little strange on her. Sitting down she unzipped her jeans and lifted her bottom to push them and her knickers down to her knees. Knickers were also pink, but didn't match her bra. She kicked them down and off, scooping them up to make them tidy in her shoulder bag, She was beautifully dark with a tanned body, pointed deep red nipples and discreet patch of dark, private hair. Looking carefully at her, I could only just perceive tanlines around her waist and thighs; she must come here often. Diane was far more certain and demonstrative; she stood up as she stripped from her sensible bra and white, low-leg knickers. She had magnificent breasts that stood out proud from her chest capped with large, pink and pointed nipples. Her skin was lightly gold showing good effect of being exposed to the sun -- all over, but like Queenie, she had trimmed her pubic hair and shaved it from her stomach and thighs, leaving just a tiny patch over her very pubis. Diane's buttocks were firm and muscled, when she moved her thighs showed wonderful detailing of developed muscles, she would be wonderful to draw or paint. Diane's nostrils flared as she stared defiantly along the beach at the other visitors as she disrobed, but they were sufficiently far away not to be intimidated and certainly too far away to be able to make the precise details of her nakedness. Now it was my turn. I tried to do it neatly and privately. Bu there comes a point in all events where one crosses an invisible boundary of commitment and I had to reveal myself. Bikini bottoms down and off in one movement, hoping that no-one along the beach had noticed. Naked and trying to cover boobs and crotch, I sat there vulnerable and embarrassed. "Hmm. You don't get much sun then, do you?" said Diane looking down at my milk white skin. "We don't do much nude sunbathing in London. Anyway, I burn." "Do you want me to put some stuff on you?" asked Queenie, laying on her front with one eye hoisted open. "Yes please." I lay down on my front as Queenie knelt up and took my tube of Ambre Solaire and squeezed some with a farting noise onto my back. "'Scuse me!' She shouted. And we all giggled.
Down my back, onto my buttocks and down my thighs her soft hands smoothed the creamy liquid. She was having an effect on me, and I was relieved to be face down to avoid showing my hardening nipples to the other girls. Whatever happened, I had to preserve my friendship with them and avoid staring at Eloise as she quietly shed her clothes. Eloise was a redhead with small features and clear, almost transluscent skin. She had worn pale green hipster trousers with an emerald t-shirt. Now she sat upon the shingle straightening and folding her trousers, naked from the waist down. Her long copper hair contrasted perfectly with her emerald top and I immediately pictured Degas' girl having her hair brushed on the beach. That task done, she hauled the shirt over her head, pulling her hair out of the clothing in front of her. Blowing straggling hair from her mouth and shoving her mane back, she folded out her clothes and turned across to look at me looking at her. Small, but pretty breasts with neat little red nipples, she seemed about to say something when Diane cried out "Oh shit! It's Maggie." "'She coming this way?" squealed Queenie diving for the shingle and wiping her hands on her towel. I was about to sit up to see who this unwelcome Maggie was, but Queenie hissed "Stay down!" It seemed several minutes before I heard the scrunch of steps on the shingle nearby. "Hello, you lot! Ooh, there's a bum I don't recognise; who's this?" I had to turn over as the other girls mumbled their hello's to this mysterious Maggie. And there she stood with her hands on her hips and feet apart looking squarely down upon me as I lay naked before her. She was far older than us, probably in her late twenties or even thirties, well built with a good figure and large and pendulous boobs. Her all-over tan suggested that she came here often and I noted that her pubic hair was close cropped and shaved about. "Introduce me, then." she commanded brightly and Diane did the honours. "So, a bloody foreigner. Are you staying in Market Square cottages?" "Yes." I answered, "for two and a bit more weeks." "Ooh. I'll be seein' yer then! But now, must swim!" and she turned and trotted easily down to the incoming tide. "You've done it now.' Said Diane. "She'll be round to see you tomorrow." And she looked at me with intrigue and secret knowledge. "What's Maggie all about, then" I asked. Queenie swore and Eloise looked away but Diane looked at me straight. "She's a lesbo. She likes to get her hand on girls and play them about. Used to be a riding coach at the stables, but got asked to leave." "Why?" I asked innocently, doing my best not to seem over interested or 'knowing'. Behind me, Queenie replied. "She was seen putting her hands down the knickers of a girl. My sister."
All day long, I lay with these three delectable girls, able only to glance occasionally at their beautiful naked bodies while desperately trying to conceal my own excitement; it wasn't easy. I carefully observed their young, tight forms in every position of langour under the sun. Oh how I ached to trace my lips down a ribcage or trail my tongue into the silky folds of thighs and buttocks before me. We dozed and ate and drank and chatted the day away, interrupted only by the incoming tide forcing us to move higher and higher up the beach. As the beach contracted, we and the other sunbathers re-settled closer together, and at last the three naked teenage boys a few yards off summoned the courage to approach us. The other girls already knew them of course, and they teased the boys terribly. I carefully observed Queenie turning to the left and right as she lay on the shingle, offering these three lads glimpses between her thighs, giggling and simpering as she did so. She was being deliberately provocative and these three poor lads could not help but respond with jokes and innuendo. Visibly, their penises grew and began to erect. Transforming them from tiny pieces of knotted rope to fleshy hosepipes that thrashed from side to side as the lads moved. I gazed at their volatile members and wished I had one. They looked such fun to play with, with their protruding 'helmets' and long smooth shafts. A penis is such an obvious signal of desire and these lads were flying the flag as Queenie and Diane displayed their charms. Eloise seemed less interested and remained more silently aloof, saying little. But I confused and uncertain, looked at these muscular male bodies with their erectile weapons and at the two soft and curvy girls and I became excited. I sat up hugging my knees and keeping my thighs clamped together for fear of exposing my prominent labia while they bantered and played.
Eventually the boys needed to cool off and dampen their ardour with a swim and went chasing down the strand.
And though the other girls weren't bothered, I had to go down to swim a little later in the thundering surf as it swept around the bay. I braved the waves to swimming depth even though the water seemed desperately cold, and I bobbed about for a few minutes before trotting back up the shingle to collapse upon my towel, shivering from the cold English Channel. I lay on my back with my chilly nipples stiff and pointing in the air, hoping to soak up warmth from the afternoon sun. "You look as though you could do with a good rub!" said a cheerful voice behind me. It was Maggie again; the other girls groaned and I noticed that Queenie even covered her pubis. Not knowing what to say, I smiled feebly at her and brushed a little shingle from one breast. Maggie scrunched around the beach to stand before me. She scrutinised my body from my ankles, up my legs over my stomach, to my boobs and then to rest on my face. She said nothing, but her eyes engaged mine and her left eyebrow lifted, just slightly. "Must get on. Things to see, people to do. Y'know." And she was off. But I knew I hadn't seen the last of her.
And so the day glowed to a close we dressed again in restrictive clothes and the long twilight hours of the English summer lit our way home. I felt salt-sore and gritty as I knocked on the door of our cottage. Mum opened the door and let me in. Little Brother was full of his day on the steam railway and Mum glowed with maternal pride for her boy's day out as he recounted every detail. All I wanted was a shower, so I listened politely but as briefly as I could before heading for the bathroom. I've always found that having lain in the sun all day; all I want to do is sleep. Even after a bath or shower, all I want to do is head straight for bed and sleep. But this time, Mum caught me wrapped in a towel and clutching my discarded clothes, as I headed for the bedroom. "Are you burnt?" "Not too bad Mum, but I might be sorry in the morning." "Let's look at you then." And she stopped me and carefully examined my shoulders. Failing to find any visible strap marks, she enquired very quietly "Did you go topless?" I squirmed. "Not exactly" I knew I couldn't leave it there. "It was only girls on the entire beach -- sort of a private beach. And all the others were; so I went nude too." "Oh Rachel, how could you?" and she reached forward and unfurled the towel from about me to look at my reddening body. I was getting pinker all over, and not just because Mum was looking at my nakedness. "You're going to need some after sun stuff as well, my girl." and she bustled me into the bedroom, pulled the towel from me and laid it upon the bed. "Lay down." She commanded; I lay on my front. Above me, Mum slapped something cool and soothing on to my over-exposed skin. "Turn over." I did so with great fear. "So that's why there were little bits of hair all over the bathroom. Oh Rachel." She was looking directly at my trimmed fuzz. And I think she was genuinely ashamed of me being nude on a public beach with a trimmed pubis. But then she asked "Weren't you embarrassed, you know, taking off your clothes?" "No." I lied "It's just like changing at school -- all girls together." "Hmm. Well maybe I ought to give it a go too, get some colour on me." And she squirted some more of the cooling balm upon my stomach, but thankfully she left me to distribute it over my body. "Spread that all over yourself, and we'll see how you are tomorrow."
Diane was wrong. Maggie left it until Tuesday before she came calling, which was just as well as I was rather sun-sore on Monday. We all went to XX on Monday to look at the arts and crafts workshops there. I wasn't sure I cared for any of them; it was all a bit twee, and Little Brother was bored to the point of violence. But Tuesday at nine-thirty, came a knock on the door and there stood Maggie. ________________________________________________________________
There will be one more part of Rachel at school -- a short part -- then I shall move on to my story at Art School. Hope you enjoy this; anyone who recognises the geography is commanded to stay quiet! Tell me what you think via rachelfrizz@hotmail.co.uk. Bye, Rae.