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Chapter 9

The rest of the day was spent just hanging out with the other kids. We had split into separate groups of four or five kids but no one spent all the time in a single group. There was a lot of switching around, so I got to know everyone. Of course I had to tell my stories to everyone, both stories, my Program-not-happening story and my get-a-physics-degree story. I edited both stories heavily for the whole group. Some things needed to be shared only with close friends.

Just before dinner, whilst we were washing up in the cabin, I decided to ask Andrew just why “naked” and “nude” were different.

“After all, aren’t they essentially the same thing?” I wondered.

“Nope, it’s like a point of view issue,” he explained. “Let’s see; the best way is... erm... yeah, I saw a quotation that explains it but I need to find it so I get it right.”

He got his mobile out of a drawer and began working it.

“Ah. Here; I remembered.”

He showed me the screen. On it, I read,

Nakedness reveals itself. Nudity is placed on display. ... The nude is condemned to never being naked. Nudity is a form of dress. (From Ways of Seeing by John Berger)

“Who’s John Berger?” I asked.

He scrolled the window and pointed. “He did a BBC program in the 1970s and then he wrote this book. He was an art critic. You see the difference now? Nakedness implies vulnerability, exposure, even exploitation. Nudity is a state of being; it has the sense of security and propriety. And art emulates life, doesn’t it.”

“Crikey, Andrew, you’re good in maths and you’re a philosopher too. You’re so smart...”

I caressed his arm. Then his folks called, “Kids, ready? Dinner.”

We ate dinner as a family at the on-site restaurant. It was weird eating a normal meal whilst wearing no clothing in a kind-of normal dining room (the non-normal part was that the servers were topless and the diners nude). Really weird, okay, surreal, actually. It had been a busy day for us kids, so while the parents decided to go to the clubhouse for the poker game night that was scheduled for that evening, we decided to just stay in the cabin and rest. We all wound up lying on the queen bed in our bedroom, watching a movie on my tablet computer. All four of us did fit, nice and snugly, and let me just say, the feeling of Andrew’s skin against mine was simply stunning. He lay on one side of me and Abi was snuggled against me on the other.

Abi was lying with her head on my shoulder whilst one of her legs was thrown over mine. She had been holding the tablet on her tummy and was commenting about the movie but eventually lost interest in it. She handed the tablet off to me and Andrew took it. Then I felt her relax. The next minute, her breathing turned into a light sighing; she had fallen asleep. I glanced over at Sam; she had fallen asleep too. I gently disengaged Abi and turned slightly toward Andrew, who had been darting glances my way every so often. Now he was looking at me, eyes shining with admiration.

I looked back at him; suddenly I became aware that his glances at my body had created an almost tangible sensation, like my skin was being caressed by his eyes, and began to feel an intense, coiling itch of arousal in my belly.

“They’re asleep,” I murmured, my throat swollen with ... love? desire? With an effort, I tried to relax.

“Yeah. This movie isn’t so great.”

“Mmm hmm. Let’s ditch it.”

He put the tablet on the night stand and lay back again. “Did you have a good first day, being nude and all?”

I sighed. “Awesome. It was brill.”

“Did anything bother you? Anything unexpected?” he asked.

“Erm... nothing bothered me, but... well, just about everything was unexpected.”

“How so?”

I giggled. “I kept thinking of how different it would have been for me if I had been forced to do the Program back in Fairbanks. I guess I would have gotten to see some kids all starkers—and seeing guys’ penises back then too, and having to do all those horrid sex things as well, and was feeling good that none of that rubbish ever happened to me. But then when I saw everyone’s penises here...”

“Emma, we kids call them dicks, or cocks, you know.”

“Yeah, I guess. You’re the first boy I ever really talked to about anything other than schoolwork cobblers. Actually you’re the first boy I’ve ever spoken to about something that’s not schoolwork. And as well, you’re the very first boy I’ve seen all bollock naked. But I need to ask someone... all those boys’ pretty... erm, cocks... they’re so brill... am I perverted if I love to watch boys’ ... cocks?”

Shazam. Instant erection over there. Gotta do a paper on that; I’m sure it’s the first instance of faster-than-light action ever observed.

Andrew groaned and made like he was going to cover up.

“No, don’t. It’s gorgeous. I was gaggin’ to see yours hard again all day. Actually I like how they look, both hard and soft. And some have... a covering... like a sock... over the head? What’s that all about?”

“Those ‘socks’ are foreskins,” he groaned as he saw me staring at my object of fascination. “Have you heard the term?”

“Oh yes. But I had pictured them just as a bit of skin on the head; nothing like I saw. Some I saw even had skin dangling over the end.”

Andrew nodded. “I obviously don’t have one and Dad doesn’t either; that’s called being ‘cut.’ But foreskins come in all sizes and different shapes, just like cocks do.”

“Oh yes, I could see that, even when they’re hard. Stan’s sticks straight out but curves up in an arc and has a spheroid head; it looks kinda bulbous, like a mushroom. Davy’s goes out straight from his groin, parallel to the ground, and the head’s paraboloid-shaped—erm... like Darth Vader’s helmet. Tim’s was skinny, stuck straight out but bent downward near the head, which was kinda pointy; it had a conical shape. Yours stays straight but points upward at 45, maybe 60 degrees, has a nice ovoid head, and is the best looking, too, nice and thick, and it’s the largest—that is, of the four hard ones I’ve seen so far.”

He chuckled. “Always being observant and very mathematical too—I love your solid geometry take on blokes’ cockheads. Very Emma-like, even when you’re nude.”

“So I love to watch the boys,” I went back to that thought. “I like seeing their cocks and some of their arses are ... just awesome too. Some of the blokes’ arses are rounded at the bottom and some are square and look rock hard. Like yours does. When you’re walking... crikey, it’s brill watching you, the way your muscles move. Boys’ arses are so different to the gals who have rounder, almost heart-shaped butts but the gals’ jiggle more when they walk and their hips sway in a very sinuous motion too. Isn’t my loving to watch all that being a pervert?”

Andrew closed his eyes for a second and breathed deeply, then sighed.

“Shit, this conversation is killing me,” he groaned. “Emma, the girls and I grew up as nudists so we’re used to the nudity. But this is all so new for you so you’re confused about how you feel. I’ll tell you my secret—just like you—and also all my mates here, I like looking at the girls, even though I’m used to their nudity. I guess I like seeing their bodies—the nude body is blindin’ brilliant and I love seeing it. So I don’t think you’re perverted if you like looking too. And you’re the best of all of them; I just love looking at you.”

He sighed again. “Emma... jeez... you’re the loveliest girl I’ve ever seen. You have an awesome personality—it just glows—and you just... enthrall me. I love talking to you, looking at you, just being with you. I...”

He stopped when I leant over and kissed his lips lightly, just a touch. I couldn’t help myself. His lips looked so tempting. Awesome... they were soft and warm... He looked at me, wide eyed.

“Andrew, I like you too. You’re sweet and chivalrous too. And this snuggling is really brill.”

Yes it was ... it was much better than just “really brill” ... it was enjoyable, comforting, pleasurable, and secure, to let my naked body snuggle against this attractive boy. As we lay there, looking searchingly into each other’s eyes, he tentatively reached toward my boobie, begging permission with his expression. I took his hand and put it between my boobies and he began stroking them. Instantly my nipps responded by turning into rock-hard pebbles. And I felt each stroke over them send a flash of pleasure straight to my fanny. Nipps are connected to fannies? Who knew? I sighed.

“Yeah. This snuggling’s fantastic. Are you okay, Emma? You sighed like...”

"Of course I sighed. I'm snuggling, naked in bed—erm, no, nude...”

“‘Naked’ works better than ‘nude’ right now, sweetie.”

Huh? Who knew? I suppose, from what Andrew had told me earlier, the distinction would be important to an art critic. Or a nudist.

“Yeah, Andrew, I’m okay. I’m way better than okay. I’m with a boy I really like and he shows that he cares for me.”

“Emma, I’ve never been this close with a girl... erm, who wasn’t a sister, that is... I mean, I’ve never romantically kissed a girl. When you just kissed me then, I saw stars. I think kissing you again would be brilliant... erm... would you like that?”

“I think I would. I think that trying a bit more kissing would be wicked brilliant. Shall we try to test my hypothesis by doing a practical experiment?”

He laughed and shook his head at that comment.

We tentatively moved our faces toward each other until our lips touched and we gently rubbed them together for a few seconds. Andrew was the first to use his tongue; he licked my lower lip so I opened my mouth and let his tongue in. He tasted sweet, that must be from the pie that we had for dessert. Our hands continued to wander. Blimey, this felt blinding awesome. Then our kissing turned into an urgent snogging session, with both of us running our hands all over each other’s bodies. It felt glorious. So did his hands as they caressed my boobies. Then I felt his hand fumbling around my groin as we kept kissing. He cupped his hand over my mons and massaged it a bit, then slid a finger between my lips and touched my clittie and I felt a jolt of pleasure.

I put my arms around his back and pulled him around, almost on top of me, and now our bodies lay pressed against each other. I ran my hands over his arse and confirmed my hypothesis that his muscles were rock-hard. Blimey, his arse was to die for! I held his chest firmly against my hard nipples and felt his hard penis... no, cock, touch my leg, then it crushed in and a rigid wetness slid against my thigh. Huh, that feels good. I reached down to see what was wet—his cock was so stiff I could feel it throbbing as I took that stiff member into my hand. Ohgod... so awesome... Andrew huffed and pulled back.

“Emma, we can’t... I promised...”

“I want to see. In my biology class, that perving teacher tried to get me starkers for a Program class demo. Those thick-as-shit Yanks who started the Program think that making high-school teenagers do all those sex acts in school is just hunky-dory, so what harm could a little exploration do? Let’s just have a pretend Program class demo now. I need to see this wonderful thing of yours.”

He heaved a big sigh and then lay back; his cock was rigid and I could feel its pulsing in my hand.

“It’s so hot...” I whispered. “Soft, smooth, and hard, all at the same time,” I murmured wonderingly.

I noticed that the wetness was still oozing from his penis tip, so I touched it. Slippery stuff; this was what his cock had smeared on my thigh just before... Then I remembered, it was ... mmm ... yeah. Cowper’s fluid. Right. The bulbourethral gland—Cowper’s—secretes the stuff to neutralize the acidity of residual urine in the urethra to protect the sperm in the ejaculate. That’s what the biology text said. Stupid retentive memory. I must have been musing aloud again because Andrew let out a bark of a laugh.

“Shit, Emma, does that mind of yours ever stop going? ‘Bulbo...whatever’ gland? Cowper’s? This isn’t biology class... that’s called pre-cum. It’s slippery to help in fucking.”

“I know. It’s really ace.”

His penis... no, cock... was so hard that when I let it go, it smacked tightly against his belly and then I looked at where it joined his groin; there lay his testicles in their sack... the scrotum, I recalled. They looked... wonderful. I cupped my hand around them and they kind of pulled up toward his groin, no longer loose and dangly like I had seen on the boys when they arrived at the pool. Come to think of it, their scrotum (scrota? scrotums? Whatever...) looked a bit like this when we all got out of the water. As I was playing with the hard spheres, rolling them around under the skin of his scrotum, he grunted.

“Not too hard, Emma. They can be very sensitive.”

“I noticed that sometimes they’re tucked up close to your body, other times they hang down.”

“Yeah,” he grunted. “When I’m warm, they drop down. In the water they pull up.”

“Well, they’re kinda up now.”

“‘Cause you’re playing with them. If you keep doing that, I’ll shoot,” he panted.

“Really? Cor, that’s brill. Bloody awesome.”

I stroked his cock again and he grunted. Then as I continued to stroke him slowly, loving the feeling of the soft skin running over the hard core, he pulled my face to his and we began snogging again. A lot.

“Oh, Emma, I’m hurting here. I gotta do this...” and he grabbed his cock and began stroking it hard.

“Awesome,” I breathed. “Can I do that for you?”

He didn’t say anything but took my hand and holding it, he guided me in stroking him. My fingers didn’t even reach all the way around it, so I sat up straighter and used both of my hands. It didn’t take long until he grunted deeply and shot four great strings of pearly white ejaculate onto his chest and belly, followed by some smaller pulses and then some more semen slowly oozed out of the head onto my hand. What an absolutely stunning sight!

Some of his ejaculation had splashed on me too; it had gotten on my boobies and forearms.

“We need to clean up,” he sighed after he caught his breath, so we got out of bed and, holding hands, went to the loo, got some flannels wet, and cleaned each other off.

Then he waited whilst I washed myself a bit and brushed my teeth; he did his hygiene too, and we walked out into the outer room. He was looking a bit embarrassed so I took his hand and pulled him to face me.

“Andrew, don’t worry about it; what we did was brilliant. You know, frigging a teen boy is totally sanctioned by Yank society, right? Hello, naked Program. When you start school in the autumn, you’ll see. Public wanking. It’ll be a school requirement. It’s... oh, shit...hee hee...”

“What is it now?” he asked with a patient expression. “What new pearl of wisdom occurred to you?”

“Ha. Dumb language. I just realized I said something that means totally opposite things at the same time.”

“Oh, god, Emma. What now?”

“The word ‘sanction.’ It means complete opposites at the same time! A sanction is both an approval or a penalty for doing something. It’s funny.”

“Emma, that brain of yours never quits, does it. I think...”

He stopped because I pulled him to me, pulled his head down, and kissed him. Hard.

Then, “Andrew, I love what we just did in the bedroom. I love just being with you too. I don’t know if this can be something that will last; I hope it will, but I’m so attracted to you now and I think of you all the time.”

He smiled at me tentatively. “I feel the same way about you, Emma.”

We looked into each other’s eyes, then drew together and began another epic snogging session. That’s how his parents found us, stood nude there in the middle of the room, naked, embracing, and kissing fiercely. Did we stop? Nope.

Well, Andrew did stop long enough to mumble, “Hi, Dad, Mum,” and only then did we reluctantly finish the kiss. Then we separated, and holding hands, turned to the adults.

Gerry chuckled. “We figured you’d eventually get around to showing your affection for each other. But I hope you haven’t...”

“Mum, we’ll keep the promise. We were cuddling just before and telling each other how much we like each other. The most we’ve done is that Emma helped me wank a little while ago and, well, I think she’s really special.”

Crikey! What an open and trusting family this is!

“Well, remember the rules,” Stuart said. “No sexual intercourse and no inappropriate public behavior. And don’t talk in public about what you two do in private together, either.”

We both agreed.

“Where are the girls?” Gerry asked.

“Sleeping. They fell asleep whilst we were watching a boring movie. I was gonna wake them to brush their teeth and stuff,” Andrew said.

Gerry nodded. “I’ll fetch them.”

Soon two adorable naked girls shuffled out of the bedroom, rubbing their eyes, and disappeared into the loo, and about ten minutes later, we were all cuddled up in the bed together with me pressed tightly against Andrew, spooning him.

“I love you, sweetheart,” I breathed in his ear.

He echoed the words back to me, “I love you too,” as I rubbed one hand over his cock, which sprung up again. He sighed, pulled my hand away, and when my next awareness came, it was the morning and Stuart was calling to us to wake up.

~~~~

“Kids! Wakey! We’re off to the clubhouse for breakfast. Meet us there. Don’t take all day.”

As I woke, I felt Andrew’s body spooning me and his erection was nestled firmly in the crease of my arse. I pushed back against him and wiggled and he groaned. As I threw the cover off us, the girls woke and saw Andrew’s erection.

Sam laughed. “He’s always that way in the morning, Emma. Isn’t his dick just yummie?”

I chuckled. “It sure is.”

Andrew sighed and climbed to his feet, shaking his head. And then I watched, astonished, as Abi went over to him, took his cock, and began wanking him. He tried to stop her but when she grabbed his testicles, he relented.

“We do this for him a lot here at the park,” Abi said, grinning. “That way he can go out with us but also it’s ace to see him squirt.”

Andrew looked at me, concerned. “You don’t mind?”

Now both girls were looking at me with worried expressions and Andrew’s erection had flagged.

“Shit. We didn’t think,” Sam moaned. “We have this morning ritual when we’re here. We do it ‘cause he can’t go out with a boner. Besides, we love him so much but we’d never go any further.”

Who was I to deny their love? It was so apparent. I smiled.

“It’s okay. And so that we have no secrets between us, I wanked him last night.”

“Brilliant!” they both cheered and Abi got back to work.

I went over to Andrew and tentatively kissed him. I didn’t fancy forcing him to endure my morning breath. Well, it didn’t seem to faze him and his own mouth wasn’t bad either. So there we were, happily snogging, with Andrew stroking my boobies whilst Abi was frigging him and Sam was giggling at the sight.

Andrew began groaning and then he pinched my nipples, sending a shiver of delight rushing through me. Crikey, that feeling went straight to my fanny again! And then he grunted and shot, over and over. I think that I’ll never tire of seeing that happen... it’s ... so ... erm ... virile. Yes. Sexy too. Shit, blokes’ cocks and um... balls... are so bloomin’ fascinating. They swing side to side and bounce around when they walk; they puff up big, fat, and firm when they see me (giggle), and it’s wicked brill how Andrew’s cock swells up and points straight out and hard when it’s played with. Blimey, what a shedload he let go. It went all over Abi and he hit me with a little too. And that’s the best part—when he spurts out all that hot cream. Damn, this is only the second time that I’ve seen a cock do that and just watching it makes my fanny tingle.

The girls went to clean it up but then began some light-hearted whinging.

“Jeez, Andrew, you made a real mess this time. You got it all over me and Emma! And on yourself too, and look at the floor,” Abi complained.

Sam laughed. “Oi. Look at that. You blokes all need showers.”

Andrew caught his breath. “That was brill, Abi, Emma. Whew. Yeah, it’s all over you two. Damn, there’s not enough time for all of us to use the little shower in here. Let’s go to the shower block at the pool.”

So we did, and I experienced the glorious feeling of being washed by three pairs of hands. Oh, I helped out in washing the others, to be sure, but we had to finish quickly.

“We were wondering when you were getting here,” Gerry said when we finally got to their table.

Sam giggled. “Took a shower together. Was fun.”

Stuart snorted. “Okay, but keep it toned down. I’d like not to get kicked out of the resort.”

After breakfast, we took a stroll; the siblings wanted to show me around the park. We hadn’t done that yesterday since we had spent all day with the other kids. This resort was quite an operation, actually. There were some permanent cabins, but the sites were mostly filled with caravans—travel trailers, Andrew called them. Why do the Americans have to change the names of everything? He pointed to several other units which had a raised section at their fronts.

“Those are fifth wheelers,” he said.

Not one of those things had five wheels. Yes, I looked; I counted too. Nope. Every one of them had an even numbers of wheels. The smallest number was eight. Hmm. The dim bulb who named them couldn’t count?

In addition to the shower block at the pool, there were two other shower blocks near the caravan sites so people wouldn’t have to go very far to get to the facilities. I had already been in the clubhouse and restaurant. There was a large sports pitch and on it there were several volleyball courts, a horseshoe pit, a tennis court, and four half-sized tennis courts (what are those? Answer: for pickleball). Huh. Really? Funny name. There also were four very long, straight lanes with a hard-packed gravel base and some racks of blue and green colored baseball-sized balls stood nearby to them. Andrew called them pee-tonk courts.

Hmmm... Pickleball. Peetonk. I guess nudists like sports with weird names. (Later I noticed an announcement on a flyer in the clubhouse for a pétanque tournament. Okay, pee-tonk. Probably French, maybe Provençal, something like “fixed feet,” I guess; “tanquer” is French for “fixed together” and I remember “péd” means “feet” in Provençal; it’s “pied” in French. One of my au pairs was from Provence and she would play with me, naming my body parts in her regional dialect. But still, pickleball?)

We also stopped to meet a number of people, regulars here, according to my guides, and these folks lived on the grounds here most of the year and commuted to their jobs. Everyone was so friendly! I saw happy, smiling faces everywhere. Many of the kids we spent time with yesterday had to leave today; their holiday was over and they had to return home. A few of them only came weekends, arriving Friday afternoons and leaving on the Sunday. With the start of August, though, Andrew told me that a new crop of kids would be arriving any time now.

It was somewhat cooler today and mostly cloudy so we decided to skip the pool for now and Sam suggested going to the hot tub. I had never been, so I was okay to try it out—when I saw it, it was way bigger than a tub. Of course we needed showers before dunking. We were the only ones there and Andrew said that was unusual.

“The hot tub is way popular with the adults,” he told me. “Lots of times it’s full of people. We kids don’t try to use it then. It’s kind of an unwritten rule here,” he laughed.

I carefully lowered my foot onto the first step. Oooh! It’s hot! The sign said the water was at 102 degrees. Body heat is 97 to 98 degrees. Just five degrees higher and it feels this hot? Then I realized that the heat-sensing nerves at the skin’s surface are measuring a temperature closer to the surrounding air temperature, not the internal body... Crikey. There I go, doin’ it again.

So I sunk down to where my chin was at the water’s surface. Whoooo. It was momentarily almost painful, but then it felt like a hot, silky blanket was wrapped around me tightly—that’s when Andrew turned on the jets. Ohmygod. There was a nozzle right behind me and when it started, it almost pushed me off the seat! Wow, what an awesome sensation, the hot water pulsing against my body. It almost felt like I was being massaged. Andrew sat down beside me, put his arm around me, and drew me close to him. Sooo dreamy. The girls looked at us cuddling there and smiled; Sam made a thumb’s-up gesture. We spent two jet-pump timer cycles in the spa, twenty minutes by the clock that was nearby, and then Andrew said we had to get out.

“Spending too long in a spa is not smart,” he explained. “If your internal body temp gets too high, you can get heat exhaustion and that can lead to serious problems.”

I definitely could see that, especially for smaller people (yeah, like me). Then I chuckled a little and he looked at me quizzically.

“All right, Emma, what is it now?” he sighed.

“Nothing—a random thought. I was thinkin’ of the contrasts here, babe. Just a few months ago, I had to dress warmly to prevent hypothermia. Now you told me your heat exhaustion warning. I’m liking this problem much better.”

Andrew snorted. “Yah, I can see why you like this better.”

Yes I do, I mused. Blimey, look at me, starkers. Emma’s really come in from the cold.

~~~~

Whilst we were in the spa, the sun had begun to peek out just a bit and people had started drifting into the pool area. Some of the kids from yesterday popped in for a final splash before they needed to leave for home. Soon it was lunch time and we decided to tuck in at the snack bar; we could see the pool from there and the girls were waiting for some friends who they expected to arrive around lunch time. And right on schedule, about 12:15, four teen girls appeared at the pool gate, looking for their friends. Spotted us. Squeals!

Emma watches the group of bouncing girls as Andrew approaches

And now there were six nude girls out there on the deck, happily doing their little hopping dance as they hugged each other and renewed their friendship. Andrew smiled at the scene. I think he liked the interesting jiggling display that their boobies were making ‘cause he had a huge smile...

Hmm. That boobie movement... it reminds me so much of colloidal motion, kind of like the way jelly moves but not as fast (Yanks call it “jell-o.” Stop changing things’ names! It’s confusing! Yes, jelly or jell-o is a colloid). I wonder if anyone has written an expression which describes the phenomenon of boobie jiggling? It seems it might be an application of the Stokes-Liouville equation if we consider boobie tissue to be a kind of colloidal suspension of non-Brownian particles in a cellular matrix. The Stokes-Einstein relation probably would apply and...

Blimey, Emma, now stop doing that already!

Anyway, where was I? Yeah, Andrew was smiling... a big smile... the girls.... Erm... Oh, crikey, he’s right here now, talking to me...

“Emma? Emma? Are you in there? Hello? You’re staring at all those hopping girls. You know, staring’s not polite, even if you’re just formulating an equation to describe the motion of their titties whilst jiggling...” he snickered.

“What? What!” I jerked back to reality. “How’d you know what I was thinking?”

“Elementary, my dear Sherlock. Your eyes get this glazed look and that’s when the numbers start flying in your conk. I’ve seen it so many times now,” he chuckled. “And seeing where you were looking. Totally obvious, sweetheart.”

I went up on tippie-toes to give him a little kiss. “You’re so smart,” I allowed.

He smiled down at me. “I’ll let you go meet the girls’ friends. Don’t let on to them that you’re trying to reduce their body parts to mathematical equations, you hear? Shit, I shudder to think what equations you’ve come up with for all the blokes’ cocks you’ve been staring at. Bloody coefficients of expansion, Gaussian curvatures of cylinders, and who knows what else.”

Ouch! I tried to say something in response but he pressed his palm to my gob and all I could say was “Mmbff plbbr slbbd...”

“No, don’t wanna hear it. You and your maths take all the sexiness out of being nude.”

“I thought nudists don’t think of sex...”

“Heh. I never said that. At least I think of it all the time—and so do the other teens. It’s just that we can’t act on our thoughts. That’s why it’s so brill when my sisters can wank me when I’m here and now you’ve done it too. Hey, I came over to tell you that since that’s Jennifer and Christie over there, their brothers must be here as well, so I’m gonna go run them down. I’ll be back here with them, as soon as I can.”

So I went over to meet the girls’ friends. Yes, I met them. Nice kids, but... Not to be snarky or anything, but they were a typical group of high school girls, judging by their comments about “this hot boy I dated last week” or “ohmygod, this nerdy guy’s been trying to look down my top” or “this really stupid jock in my school was trying to get me to go out...” One thing I noticed... No discussion of clothing. Now, in my (not very extensive) experience of being with high school girls, one topic that is never overlooked in any discussion is clothing. Not a whisper about clothing was heard from this group, though. I’ll bet you figured out why, too. Teen girls in high school talk about boys, clothing, movies, books and TV, and more clothing. Teen girls in nudist parks talk about... boys... and boys. Yep, boys. Just sayin’. In this park, anyway.

I already know what the boys talk about. Always the same, and wherever they are. Girls, sports, video-games, sometimes cars, and girls. I tutored lots of boys in Fairbanks and did an informal study. Just listening (erm, eavesdropping, actually). And I had overheard the boys talking here yesterday. Yep. Same topics.

Whilst we were there chatting, another small group of boys and girls showed up and came over to us and it was “introduce Emma” time again so I had to recite my abbreviated getting-a-degree and Program-not-happening stories again. Many of the kids in this group would be staying for a week or two; they all knew each other from past seasons, so some time was spent in catching up on their past year’s news.

Randy, Jason, and Justin come to join Emma and Andrew

Soon Andrew returned with three blokes. One was a big guy, over six feet and, crikey, ohmygod; he was cut... erm, not down there. Higher up, you know? Six-pack. Shoulders. Pecs. Biceps. A bloody smokin’ hot arse. And between his chiseled thighs flopped this huge... Jeez, fuck it, Emma! Eeep, shit, no, don’t! Eewww! Stop that right now!

Found out he was Randy, a high school senior who played fullback in football. Damn, what a name too, right? The other two blokes were twins and identical too. Really identical; nothing showed to tell them apart and believe me, lots of things showed. Even their naughty bits were identical. I did look. Carefully but discreetly, you know? Some things need to be accurately documented, after all. Especially Randy’s... damn... Gonna kill myself. Really.

It turned out that the twins, Jason and Justin (really? Why do parents do that?), lived near Hershey, Pennsylvania. Hey, that’s actually where the chocolate candy is made. It’s named for a town? Who knew? Anyway, the kids were joking about some strange town names, some near Hershey. Why that subject came up, I can’t say. I was too busy to pay attention since I was looking at all the boys here, checking to see if I could determine if any relationship existed between their heights and their... Grrr. I need blinders. I absolutely need blinders.

Anyway, I heard them laughing about some strange town names: Hazard, Bird-in-Hand, Noodle Doosie, Scalp Level, and Paradise... but then the twins began to call out some really way-out ones, like Climax, Free Love Valley, Fertility, Jugtown, Moon, Virginville, Blue Ball, Intercourse, and Puseyville, and those names really got the kids rolling on the floor in laughter. A thought: “Intercourse”? Really? The town’s actually named “Intercourse”? What if the chocolate factory were located there instead of in Hershey? Intercourse bars? Emma, just quit it now...

Anyway, the twins’ high school is in a small school district just outside Hershey and they mentioned that the Program had started in their school last autumn. When this tidbit of news dropped into our conversation, it caught every single teen’s attention; every one of the girls and the boys who were at the pool now—there were eleven of us, immediately stopped talking. Then a clamor arose—everyone began demanding to know all about it. The twins were juniors and hadn’t been selected, but they did have some stories to tell about all the rot they saw.

I guess hearing their stories beat any other recreational activities in the offing, and since the sun was again back behind some very heavy clouds, we all went off to the clubhouse to sit somewhere comfortable to hear Jason and Justin’s stories.

I really need to find a way to tell them apart. Andrew told me that the twins can even fool their parents sometimes. And the twins had told Andrew that they’ve switched partners on dates a few times, just for fun. I wonder if their dates ever figured that out. (Several hours later, I learnt that they could indeed be told apart, but not in... erm... a socially acceptable way. I had mentioned their identicalness to Jennifer, a girl who also went to their school, and she told me that Justin’s erection bent a bit to the right whilst Jason’s bent left but I should never reveal to them the secret, that the girls they dated knew about that difference. Oh my. She had experiences with both of them where she had personally observed this trait? She did, she told me, smirking, and then enlightened me about all the powers over boys wielded by a girl with an educated mouth. I was, well... blow me down... oh, shit. Ignore that stupid pun; didn’t mean it. Sweet Jennifer doing that? It must be the effect of the Program on the kids’ morals. Or something.)

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Next: The Program here? At the nudist resort? Emma learns some sobering things about the Naked in School Program. She celebrates her fourteenth birthday, publically and privately.

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