"You mean to say you've never heard of Truth, Dare and Promise? You Yanks don't know nothing. C'mon, I suppose I'll have to teach you…"
It was the summer of '62. Maryon had made one firm friend at school, but even to Karen she'd made no mention of her exciting games with Mike. Though, lately… for some months in fact… he'd paid little attention to her. She'd suspected for some time that he was enjoying himself with his new girl friend, that Riva Kamparsky who treated her, on the few occasions she deigned to come over to the house, like a little kid. One day she'd show them all how grown up she was… how much of a girl… how much she knew about making a boy happy, even if she was little and young.
But so often had she gone to sleep thinking such thoughts, and so commonplace had they become to her childish, still largely unformed mind, that they'd sunken deep into her, and were now unvoiced and unnoticeable, as quiet and secret as a cancer. She certainly wasn't consciously aware of them as, this hot, bright day, she sat with the others in the barn next to stables of the Matherly Ranch.
Matherly's wasn't a working ranch, more of a rich man's hobby and tax loss. Glenville was too close to, and too much a part of the great Metropolis for a rough and ready acreage to be farmed, or much livestock raised. But the estate of the Matherlys was as secluded and spread out as their money could make it, with green pasture land for the string of horses, and comfortable quarters for them away from the main house. The barn was full of straw, dried and in bales or, these broken, scattered thickly over the floor, while upstairs the remnants of last winter's hay still smelt sweetly from over the edge of the high loft and suffused the close air of the darkened building, with only occasional shafts of sun sliding through cracks and between the tall, all-but-closed doors.
"You Yank kids probably know it as something else… another name." The speaker was Colin – Colin something. He was English, visiting thirteen-year-old Sylvia Matherly for the summer vacation… the 'hols' as he called it. From his lofty height of fourteen years he seemed to regard the rest of them, Karen, Maryon's twelve-year-old friend from school, her 'boy friend', the same age as Sylvia… Derek, his friend Johnny, a year younger, and Sylvia herself, currently 'dating' Johnny, and Maryon the youngest at eleven, with a considerable amount of condescension somewhat boosted by his exotic position of being 'Sylvia's English cousin'.
This was Maryon's first meeting with him and was, indeed, only the third time she'd been invited to Sylvia's to play, the invitation being extended through Karen who, though she usually kept herself aloof from the others at school, was mysteriously strong enough in her personality to go where she wanted, and had taken a sort of liking for Maryon's company, even though she was a year and a class ahead of her at St. Joan's. In Glenville it was a mark of snobbish distinction to be accepted as a 'Jonah', and Burt and Louis had groveled to get their daughter into the school.
For some reason Karen had laid it importantly upon her that this day she should wear her full school uniform for the visit to the Matherlys, and dutifully Maryon had obeyed, wearing her soft white ruffle-fronted blouse with the blue-and-brown school tie neatly in place, the knee-length brown skirt with blue hatchlines, blue jacket with brown piping, white long socks that nearly met her skirt's hem, tidy black button shoes and, on her long blonde hair, braided into two plaits, her school hat, of pale yellow straw with a blue-and-brown banded ribbon. She was a bit put out to find that the other two girls were very casually dressed, in contrast, Karen in tight hip-hugging Levi's of faded blue that looked as if they'd been painted on her and, above a navel-bare midriff, a short, loose, sleeveless top, its once-bright lines of color now washed out. Sylvia, barefoot, was tanned darkly the length of her legs, which only at their very tops vanished beneath a pair of white shorts, which matched the brief halter beneath which her burgeoning breasts strained the thin cotton cloth. Again in contrast to Maryon's neatness, while Sylvia's short brown hair hung in a froth about her head, Karen's jet black uncut tresses were caught into a ponytail secured by a rubber band, leaving her oval, white face a clear setting for her greeny-blue eyes.
Maryon really felt out of place, the more so as the three boys were even more informal in attire… Johnny in jeans and a flapping, unbuttoned shirt, Derek in tight red-and-white checked Bermudas, and Colin wearing a pair of faded light-tan shorts loose about his thighs. The excuse Karen'd made was to show Colin that some schools in America wore clothes like they did in England! – though why Sylvia, in the same house with him, couldn't have worn her uniform, Maryon didn't think to ask.
Now the five settled themselves down to listen as Colin explained the game. Earlier they'd played hide-and-go-seek, but Maryon didn't much care for that, not since Derek had tried to kiss her. He was Karen's guy, and ought not to fool around with another girl, surely? She hoped this one would turn out better, though, since Sylvia and Karen were paired off with Johnny and Derek, it didn't look like Colin was going to pay her much attention… he was three years older! She returned her attention to the English boy.
"Now, this is the way it goes," he said. "One of us… doesn't matter who goes first… gets to ask each of the others whether they choose a Truth, a Dare, or a Promise. Then, whatever they choose, he asks them something… whether it's true that something is so-and-so-like, 'is it true that you like, well, someone?' Whoever the Inquisitor says, see? And if it's a dare, then, the Inquisitor can dare him or her to do anything he likes. Or if it's a promise, then they have to promise to do… well, whatever the Inquisitor tells 'em."
"Sounds okay," said Derek, and Sylvia thought it was a groovy idea.
"But what happens if whoever you ask doesn't want to answer, or do whatever it is you dare 'em to do?" asked Johnny.
"Then the Inquisitor can order 'em to pay a forfeit, do or say something else. And they have to pay the forfeit, that's very important and we've all got to agree before we start on that, else it's no good playing the game. Okay? Do you all agree? Then we can start now. Who wants to be Inquisitor the first time around?"
They looked at each other. Colin alone stood before them, careless and looking almost naked to Maryon's eyes with his golden hair, bronzed skin, and pale tan pants. She sat on a bale of hay while the other four lounged on the soft strawed floor each side of her, Sylvia and Johnny on her right, Karen and Derek at her left. Colin looked at her. "How about you, Maryon Alysun – that's a pretty name, kid!-do you want to go first? You're the youngest."
Confused, she shook her head. "Nah, you go first, Colin," said Johnny. "You know how to play it best. Then we can learn from you."
"All right," he said. "We'll do it in order, then. I'll ask first. Okay? Right, then. Ah, Sylvia, do you want a Truth, a Dare, or a Promise?"
"Oh, I'll take a Truth, Colin," said his cousin, shrugging her frail freckled shoulders.
"Um… is it true you like Johnny a lot?"
"Oh yes," said Sylvia, taking her boyfriend's hand and squeezing it till he flushed and moved uncomfortably.
"Very good," said Colin. "Now, Johnny, how about you, what will you take?"
"Oh, the same as Sylvia."
"A Truth? Well, then… is it true you like her as much as she likes you?"
"Oh, I suppose so!"
"You only suppose so? Won't you give us a Yes or a No, Johnny? Otherwise you haven't answered properly and you'll have to pay us a forfeit."
"Oh… yes I like her as much as she likes me," he got out, not looking at Sylvia. But she wasn't about to let him get off easily, and, throwing an arm about his neck, kissed him on the lips. "You'd better," she warned, darkly.
Colin looked at Maryon. "Now, then, what about you?"
She thought she caught the suspicion of a wink from him to Sylvia, but paid no attention to it. "I think," she said, "that I'll take a Dare."
"Hah, good kid… braver than these two, at any rate. Let's see, now… I dare you to… go climb up the ladder there and come down again before I count twenty. One, two, three… Go!"
Before she was quite sure of what she was doing, Maryon found herself clambering up the tall, straight-set ladder that led to the loft, frantically trying to beat the count of Colin's voice below her. Halfway up, while he was still at four, she saw that he was standing directly beneath her, as though to make sure she went all the way up, and was blushingly aware that he could see all the way up between her legs to where her dark blue elastic-topped and legged underpants would cut off the view. But she scurried on up, stood swaying on the top-but-two-rung then climbed down again taking the steps two at a time, her light skirt billowing up slightly and once getting caught so that she lost a beat in getting it dislodged from the splinter, noticing Derek also, flat on his back, nearly underneath her. However, her face red from the exertion, she managed to get her feet on the ground again just as Colin counted 'twenty'… though he whispered in her ear as he went back to the center of the semi-circle: "You cheated, you know. I slowed the count for you. Remember that. But I don't think the others noticed."
Out of breath, she sat down on the bale of hay again and tried not to look at anyone as he next asked Karen what she would choose.
"I'll take a Dare too," said the black-haired girl, boldly, looking at the ladder. But her challenge was to be different.
"Right. I dare you… to come over here and do a handstand. I'll hold your ankles so you don't fall," said Colin.
Karen pouted but, without argument, placed her hands on the floor and swung her lithe white body up until she was upside down against his restraining hands. As she remained there, breathing strongly in and out, her loose top slowly edged down her upper body so that, since she was facing the others, the hard black nubs of her nipples were just revealed, set in her pair of flat, oval breasts, their darkness startling against her pale white flesh. Karen didn't tan. Maryon, moving only her eyes, saw that the grinning Derek was intent on the view afforded him, and that Colin had leaned his head over slightly so as to see down his victim's body. In a moment he let his hands drop to her hips and expertly swung her back onto her feet. As she walked back to drop to the floor, Maryon observed that her friend seemed to swing her hips just a little more lithely under the tight Levi's, and her hands were slow to pull down her disarrayed top.
"Very good, Karen, you're a good sport," said Colin. "Okay, Derek, what's it to be?"
"A Promise for me," said the cautious boy, thinking this to be the easiest and less troublesome choice.
"Ahah, the first with a Promise! Let me think about this. Derek, do you promise to tickle Karen until I tell you to stop?"
"What?" cried the startled boy. "But that means Karen has to be part of it too!"
Colin blandly stared at him. "Doesn't matter," he said. "That's part of the fun of the game, see? Go on, now, she can run if she wants to, but she has to stay inside the barn."
Promptly acting on his suggestion, Karen leaped to her feet and tried to evade her pursuer who, now that he got the idea, ardently played his part. After some minutes of the chase, he had her cornered against the ladder where she leaned, breathless, and he begin to tickle her unmercifully, concentrating mainly on her bare sides and her neck. She screamed helplessly at him until Maryon thought someone would hear her and come, till she remembered they had the run of the place today and were alone. In a moment the writhing Karen fell to the straw beside them, and instantly Derek was astride her, his busy fingers running up and down her quivering sides then, as she tried to fight him, up under her armpits and into her throat he went, until she was kicking and twisting uncontrollably. Before long her scanty top was riding high up her slim young body and once more her sharp black nipples were on view, though she was struggling so hard they seemed to shimmer against her pale skin.
Concentrating on his task, Derek let his full weight sit on her hard thighs and, holding her thin wrists in one of his hands, with the other began to play about her navel and then, inexorably, up her fragile rib cage to the soft silken bags of her shallow breasts, where with finger and thumb he began to rapidly circle their stiff little cores. Maryon saw that his mouth was open and he was breathing as hard as if he were the one putting up a desperate struggle. But she'd noticed her brother Mike sometimes went like that when he was excited over playing with her, so she supposed that was what it was, even though this was different. This was just ordinary play, wasn't it?
Just then Colin told Derek to leave off and, panting, the T-shirted boy got up and threw himself to the floor by Maryon. She wondered why he so awkwardly adjusted himself under the bulging red-and-white checked Bermudas. Karen merely rolled over and hugged herself into a ball, fighting for breath so that Maryon could see her slim, naked rib cage expanding and collapsing like a bellows.
Very casually indeed, Colin sauntered over near the girl curled up on the floor and propped one bare foot on the bottom rung of the ladder, putting himself at the end of the line.
"Your turn, Sylvia," he said, over his shoulder, and his young cousin got up and took his previous place, exchanging looks with him when she stood there that Maryon thought, for some reason, significant.
Johnny was the first to be asked, this time, and he again chose a Truth. Sylvia smiled, a bit evilly, Maryon thought, and poked her slim, limber tongue between her full, rosebud lips. "Is it true," she said, "that you'll shout out what I whisper in your car? And remember, kiddo, I get to give you a forfeit if you don't!"
"Uh, yeah… I guess," said Johnny.
Sylvia, grinning impishly, went to him, leaned over and breathed in his ear. "Now, loud as you can," she said. The boy went red in the face then, looking at no one, bawled out, at the top of his voice: "COCK! CUNT!"
A shock went through Maryon… Mike had taught her all the words like that, but she'd never heard them right out loud like that. A hot and cold shiver went through her and unconsciously she pressed her legs together. This was some strange game! And it was her turn next! What should she choose!? She heard the older Sylvia ask her, and she hesitated. "I'll take a Promise, I think," she said.
"That's easy," said Sylvia, laughing at her with her hands on her hips. "Do you promise that, whenever I tell you to, you'll shout out what Johnny just said, and just as loud?"
Beside her she could hear the now recovered Karen giggle, and she felt the blood rushing into her cheeks. Her ears were singing, and her voice sounded strained and hoarse, as she got out: "Yes… Sylvia… yes."
She expected she would have to fulfill her promise now, and mentally prepared herself, swallowing, but such was not to be the case, for Sylvia swung toward Karen, who was now sitting next to Derek, but not so closely as before, in her original place.
"Karen?"
"A Truth, this time!"
"Mmmhhh… Okay, Karen, is it true that you didn't mind at all showing us all your titties just now?"
"You're a rat, Sylvia, and I'll get you for this."
"Rat to you, too, but what's the answer? And remember the forfeit."
Karen had the grace to bob her head down as she mumbled, but loud enough for the others to hear: "No, I didn't much mind."
Sylvia was not about to let her off so easily. "What didn't you mind, Karen?"
"Showing off my tits, Goddamn it!" was the louder reply.
"That's better. Now, Derek?"
"Dare!"
"Right… I dare you to tell us truthfully what you were thinking of when Karen's titties were showing."
Derek blushed and looked awkwardly at his feet. "Uh. Nothing much. She… they… I wasn't excited or anything," he stammered at last.
That earned him a burning, sidelong glance from his girl-friend, but Sylvia was not satisfied. "What d'you think, kids, is that the truth? Or shall I make him pay a forfeit?"
"Hey, that's not fair," protested Derek, but Johnny and Colin gleefully agreed he should be forfeited.
"Oh, I'll get you," he hissed savagely at Johnny, behind Maryon's back, but nevertheless he promised to pay.
"Then… Karen shall have a chance at tickling you," said Sylvia. "But this time, you mustn't run away, and you mustn't try to stop her, but just he there and let her do it."
Karen laughed, and stood over Derek as he reluctantly streched himself out on the floor, arms above his head as she directed, then, hunkering down over his hips till Maryon thought the bard round cannonballs of her butt would burst through the tight, trim Levi's. Then, her slim, deft little fingers were busy at the tight-drawn waistband of his Bermudas, under it, then under the edge of the T-shirt and, pulling it up, were free to tantalize and torment his bare flesh. She started off as he had, by letting her hands attack his sides, where he, like most people, was most sensitive, but before long, as he twisted, his mouth grimacing with the effort to not give in and laugh, Maryon could see the ten slender digits beginning to dig into his soft, flesh, moving slowly but steadily about him until they gouged his belly.
Maryon was surprised at the look in Karen's eyes, almost slitted – shining, fierce, secret – as the girl dug her sharp-nailed thumbs into the outer moat of Derek's navel as if she would slice him there. But, as he bucked instinctively beneath her, throwing her forward, she eased off a bit and instead let her wandering hands work up into his hairy armpits, at which point he broke down and wriggled and gasped and hysterically laughed as she'd done when their positions had been reversed. Finally, as if torn between being bored at this childish sport and a reluctance to let her victim free, Karen sat back against his upthrust knees, brushed the back of her hand against her brow, and asked Sylvia: "That's enough for now, isn't it?"
The older girl, who'd been hovering over the squirming pair, nodded and, a bit wearily, Karen leaned over and kissed the stilled Derek lightly; quickly, and rolled off him.
"Okay, Colin, over to you," said Sylvia.
"Dare," said the boy laconically.
Sylvia looked briefly around the others before facing him as he leaned against the ladder. She seemed to swallow, then said: "I'll do you a favor, cousin. Since we're sort of in twos, the rest of us, I mean, I think you ought to make up to Maryon, so's she's not left out of things. So… I dare you to give her a big, real, romantic kiss and hug. All right?"
"Righto," said the taller, golden-haired Colin and, pushing himself away from the ladder, stepped quickly over to stand in front of Maryon, whose pulse was already palpitating at this sudden thrust to prominence. "Stand up, luv," he said, taking her elbow, "and let's show them what it's all about, eh?"
Something in his manner, something in his subtly burning stare, something she could almost smell reminded her suddenly, sharply, of Michael, so that as she got to her feet, her knees felt weak and she almost sat down again. Letting him take the initiative, she gladly surrendered herself to him, uncaring now of what he might do with her or of what might happen. She felt maybe this might be what 'being in love' was like, being shaky like this, and a bit faint and helpless.
Colin put one arm about her, under her long jacket, and tightened his hand about her waist. His other hand held her just behind the shoulder and, putting one lean leg behind hers, and the other between them, leaned her so that she was just off balance. The hand behind her slipped a little lower and pulled her tight in against him, while the other touched her neck and raised her face toward his. Looking down at her with a strange light in his eyes, he bent to kiss her and, instinctively, she opened her mouth and thrust with her tongue as Mike had taught her to do. She felt him start, then his lips were hard on hers and their tongues began to battle in their mouths, each pushing and withdrawing, sucking and wriggling. The hand at her back cupped her ass, now, outside the cloth of her skirt, so that her unprotected groin was ground into by his hip, and against her own hip she felt his large softness through the layers of thin material. Now she put up her own arms about his neck and pulled herself up harder against him, dealing with him as she'd often done with her brother, knowing that this was the right way for grown-ups – somehow Mike and Colin both seemed grown-up – to kiss and show their affection for each other. And she now desperately wanted to show her affection for the English boy.
She closed her big blue eyes and plumped up her soft red cherub lips and gave as much of herself to him as she was able, not seeing the surprised and grinning faces of the others about her as they intently watched. She wriggled her hips a bit, to better adjust to his height, and felt his hidden flesh roll around to her belly so that she was able to press it between them. The hand at her cute little butt was clasping, grasping, squeezing her deliciously and, except for the strain on her arms, she would have been prepared to have gone on kissing like that forever. But after a while she felt a tap on her shoulder and, dazed, she opened her eyes to see Sylvia standing over them.
"Okay, okay, enough already," the bigger girl said, parting the two like the referee at a wrestling match on TV. "Well," she continued, as Maryon dropped weakly to her bale of hay, "you really know how to kiss, don't you? Perhaps you can give us lessons, huh?"
Karen and the others giggled, but she saw that Colin was staring at her with an odd light in his eyes, as if he'd just discovered something curious, startling, and worthy of further investigation. His face looked hot and flushed. "Thanks," he said, surprisingly, then took his cousin aside for a moment and whispered something quickly in her ear.
Maryon was very pleased with herself at having come through this experience so well and having acted not at all like the little kid girl they seemed to have expected. She even managed to wink at Karen, who was stroking Derek's hand where he held her round the waist, his hand red and fleshy on the girl's pale bare skin.
"All right, Johnny, it's your turn now to be Inquisitor," said Sylvia, returning. She dropped down onto the straw where her boyfriend had been sitting as he got up and stood in front of the small group.
"You first?" he asked her.
"Not really… put me last, after Colin. That way it all works out equal," she said, stretching out with an arm bent beneath her head, so that beneath each cup of her halter a full crescent of tanned soft flesh spilled.
"Looks like it's your turn again, kid," said Johnny, hitching up his jeans and looking at the still flushed Maryon, who could hardly keep her covert eyes off Colin, who'd returned to his stance by the ladder.
"Oh, um… oh, I'll take another Dare," she said, somewhat breathlessly. Her eleven-year-old body wholly ached that it would have something to do with Colin.
But she was to be disappointed. Johnny scratched his stomach, in deep thought, while she willed him with her eyes to please have her kiss Colin, or something. "Okay," he said, after a while, "here's what you do. You see the way Karen's got her hair down, in a ponytail, so that it sticks out, then hangs down? Well…" he winked quickly at Derek, "… you have to go and take off her vest, but you have to do it so that you don't pull her hair up with its neck… understand? We'll watch you, and you pay a forfeit if you mess it up. Go on, now. Karen, you kneel down there, so you're not too tall. You can put your arms up, to help her, that's all."
Obediently Karen dropped forward on her knees, and held her hands up over her head, quivering slightly. She looked down at the floor, but as Maryon approached she thought she saw a glint in those greeny-blue eyes from under the long, dark lashes.
At first the problem didn't seem too difficult… the neck of the top was wide and the hole it caused quite large. The others crowded round to observe everything. Maryon considered. If she took the thing by its bottom edge and lifted, the way it would normally come off, she might not be able to see at the back properly to make sure the ponytail wasn't disturbed. The other way was more awkward, but it might be better in the end. Carefully she reached down, standing behind her friend, and hooked her fingers under the neckline at each side. She gently began to lift and the garment slid up the slim body without trouble until, just as Maryon had the ponytail safely hanging down inside the back, the front caught on Karen's chin. Try as she might, she just could not get the two things, the hair and the jaw, clear of the top's hole, even when she tried putting her hands at front and back instead of at the side. Johnny and Derek and Colin, she saw without really looking, were much more interested in looking at Karen's body than at her efforts, but Sylvia kept a hard eye on her struggles with the recalcitrant top.
Finally, just when she thought she had it clear all around and triumphantly jerked smoothly upward along the upraised arms, the thing caught under Karen's nose, the back pulled forward, and her hand snagged against the girl's long black hair and bent it up into a loop.
"Not quite! Not quite!" laughed Sylvia, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. "You didn't quite make it, kid."
In disgust, not caring, Maryon swiftly tugged the top up over Karen's bare arms and half-threw it at Johnny. "There!" she said. "That's the best I could do. Did I hurt your nose, Karen? I'm sorry."
Throwing one slim arm over her naked, pale, shallow breasts, Karen, half hunching her shoulders, rubbed briefly at her nose, then sniffed up at Maryon. "It's all right, baby," she said. "Don't worry about it."
She reached for her top, but Johnny, stepping back, passed it to Derek. "Not yet, babe," he told her and, with a pout, she sat down, brought her knees up against her chest and put her arms about them, and waited for Johnny to ask her her choice.
When the question came, "Truth!" she declared, in a husky voice.
"Is it true that you're wearing nothing under your Levi's?" asked Johnny. "And you'll have to prove it."
"Oi! What about Maryon Alysun's forfeit?" interrupted Colin.
"Oh, yeah. Forgot about that," muttered Johnny. "Say, is it all right if I give her one later, before we leave, but when I think of something?"
"I guess that's okay," said the English boy, smiling at his cousin, who'd flopped down by Maryon again. "Later, later, masturbator!"
Derek barked out a laugh, then flushed deeply when Colin turned a bland gaze on him. "Okay, let's got on with it, Johnny," he mumbled.
"Well, Karen?" asked Johnny. "Are you or aren't you… and will you?"
"The answer to the first question is – no! No, I'm not, that is; yes, it's true. Okay? And to the second question, well, I'll let Derek prove it, all right?" And before anyone could object, she'd unbuttoned the top of her pale blue Levi's, unzipped a couple of inches, leaving marginal room, reached for her startled boyfriend's hand and thrust it down in back of her, his palm against her skin. From above Maryon could just see the dark-shadowed valley between the two squashed-up globes of Karen's butt before Derek's hand eased down against it. His wrist wriggled and his hand thrust deeper as he felt, clumsily, at her skin, then he withdrew it and, as Karen rearranged her clothes, said, a bit shamefacedly: "It's true, Johnny. Take my word for it."
His friend grinned. "Don't say I never did anything for you, Derek. Okay, I'm satisfied with that. Now, it's your turn."
Derek thought for a moment, rubbing his recently pants-immersed palm against his smooth young chin. "I think 'I'll try a Dare," he said, licking his lips and eyeing his black-haired girlfriend.
Johnny smiled at him. "Well, since Maryon the world-famous champion kisser took something off your girl, I'll give you a chance to get even. I… dare… you… to take Maryon up into the loft there and, before I count up to one hundred, take off her panties and bring her and them back down to us."
Derek's face was hot and his eyes shone as he looked from his friend toward Maryon, who felt a shiver of apprehension go through her. If it had been Colin-! But, still, they were letting her play with them, and not as if she were a little kid. Half reluctantly she stood up. "Okay, blondie?" breathed Derek, and she nodded.
"You don't start counting till we're both on the ladder, all right?" he flung back over his shoulder. Taking Maryon by the elbows, he steered her over to the ladder, where Colin obligingly made room for them, and let her get three rungs up before putting his own foot on the bottom rung. "Now, when he says, 'Go!' you just shoot up there, hear?" he whispered heavily in her ear. "When we get up there, just leave it to me. You don't want us both to get forfeits, do you?"
Johnny brought his hand down and said: "One!" and Maryon felt Derek's bony shoulder press hard up under the cheeks of her butt. Awkwardly but quickly she climbed up the ladder for the second time so far, everything happening so quickly about her that she hardly knew what she was doing. She fell over the lip of the loft and immediately she was being shoved forward from behind by the impatient boy.
"Eleven!" she heard from down below, and realized they'd have more time than she'd thought. She blinked in the semi-darkness, and coughed at the hay-dust, kneeling up. Derek, standing beside her, pushed her down so that she was on hands and knees.
"Fourteen!"
A rough hand caught at the hem of her skirt and flung it up over her back. "Please don't tear it!" she implored. Her only answer was a dig in the small of her back as he eased his knuckles up under her waistband so as to grasp the top of her brown panties.
"Eighteen!"
Looking back she saw Derek, silhouetted against the loft's opening, kneeling down behind her, his legs outside her own slender pair. On a new ploy, he ran his hands up her bare thighs until he could get his thumbs under the elastic there and then tugged, trying to jerk the whole thing down off her.
"Twenty-one!"
She felt her belly quiver as the front of her panties came a fraction free, and then his hot hands were at their top again, and this time she heard his sigh of relief as he got a good grip on them. He pulled until she felt the tight elastic slip completely over her butt, and she knew that even in that dim light he could see the plump round curves of flesh exposed to the air. For a second she felt his thumbs brush over her skin and she goose-bumped, her mouth dry.
"Twenty-seven!"
Johnny seemed to be counting awful slow… much slower than the first time. Or maybe it was only her imagination. The hands at her behind now completely circled the rumpled cloth at each side of her lower hips and then, in one smooth motion, it was down about her thighs. Roughly she felt a hand wriggle in between them and without demur she parted them a bit so as to let him drag the crotch-piece clear. Another second, and the pants rested on the backs of her knees.
"Thirty!"
"Lift your knees up!" hissed Derek, leaning over her, and, one by one, she obliged, so that in a moment he had them stripped completely from her.
"Thirty-two!" came from downstairs.
Glad that they were in plenty of time for their return, Maryon was about to sit up and pull her skirt down when an arm went about her and she was rolled over on her back in the soft, warm hay. "Hear that?" Derek breathed. "Still another sixty-six to go, and it'll only take us ten to get down. And I mean to get one of those super-kisses of yours, first!"
He flung himself upon her and she couldn't resist. She didn't really want to kiss him, but, if it pleased him, why not. She puckered up her little plump lips and offered her face to him in the dark, wincing a bit when his hard lips found hers and his strong tongue began to thrust between her teeth. Then, suddenly, she jumped as a hot sweaty hand grabbed her knee, slid steadily up her thigh, and finally clasped her at her joint, so that she could feel his thumb rub excitingly over her little bush of blonde fuzz. She hadn't expected this and, although she didn't much care for him, remembering all the while he was Karen's boy, not hers… it was pleasant to have him fondle her like that. Since Mike had stopped feeling her and playing with her, she'd missed the touch of someone on her juicy, tiny cunt… her own hands were never quite the same, though she could dream…
Half content, she lifted one slender leg and let it fall outward from the other, and thrilled as immediately Derek responded by sliding his forefinger beneath her until it was jammed in the crack-of her ass, while his thumb continued its pressing, circling play on her wide-open crotch. Against her face she could feel his heavy, hot, rapid breath. She struggled to thrust her slim hips up at him, and, as if in a dream, was about to move her own tiny hand in between them until she could touch him in the way she knew Mike liked to be touched when: "Eighty-two!" floated up from below and, to her regret, Derek released her.
"Christ!" he said, apparently to himself. "You're really hot for it kid, aren't you!?" He sounded astonished, which Maryon found surprising… wasn't this the grown-up way of girls and boys? She was almost mutinous when he grabbed her wrist, flipped down her skirt, and pulled her to her feet. "Let's get out of here," he said. "I've got things to teach Karen!"
He pushed her toward the ladder and, in a hurry now, she clattered down, acutely aware, all of an innocent sudden, that the other four were clustered at the ladder's foot and staring keenly up under her billowing skirt at her twinkling little cleft and her pulsing little buttocks. Not looking at them, she skipped to her bale of hay and sat down, crossing her legs to contain the fiery electric glow high between them, and watched as Derek jumped down and handed her brown pantie to Johnny just as the latter said, with a broad grin: "One hundred! Uh… what took you so long, Derek?" glancing down at his friend's bulging Bermudas. Hastily the boy plumped down next to the amused Karen.
Colin stepped forward and grabbed the tiny brown garment from Johnny. "Hah!" he said, waving them. "A good old-fashioned pair of knickers… just like the birds wear in the good old Yewwwwnited Kingdom! You'll get 'em back later, luv," he said in an aside to Maryon, throwing them on top of Karen's discarded piece of clothing. "Right, now… no hanging about, who's next?" he went on, squatting with his back to the ladder.
"You, chum!" said Johnny, as the others settled down. "What d'you want?"
"Oh, I suppose I might as well have a Dare," he said.
Johnny looked at Sylvia. "Then I dare you, Colin, to take off that bra thing of your cousin's. Sylvia, you have to stand up, now, over here."
Sylvia made a moue of simulated annoyance, and strolled long-leggedly over to where Johnny stood, and turned to face the others. Colin, with an almost arrogant smile, followed her and, at Johnny's indication, stood behind his cousin, while the Inquisitor stood to one side. Taking the older girl's hands, he placed them on her hips, then fumbled at her back with the knot of the halter. In a moment the thin white cotton eased forward and from beneath it flowed two tanned crescents of soft flesh. Very slowly Colin slid his hands up the careless, defiant-eyed girl's arms to her slim shoulders until his fingers were under the loose strings there and then, as slowly, pulled his hands apart so that the material of the halter inched down over the budding breasts, not quite baring the nipples.
Maryon noticed that even Karen, her own part-nakedness seemingly forgotten, was leaning forward to watch the denuding of her girlfriend. Holding the thing together at the back, Colin flipped the shoulder straps down past Sylvia's elbows and lifted her bent arms out of them, letting her hands return to their akimbo position. Now he took an end of the halter in each of his hands and, parting them, began to pull the thing back and forth across her, affording tantalizing glimpses of her young breasts to the others. After a minute of this, during which Sylvia stirred restlessly on her feet, swaying her hips, he dramatically ripped the cloth away, leaving her totally exposed. And, because of the friction of the cloth on her breasts as he'd teased it across them, her small pink nipples, red-ended, stood out from her like hard round berries. While Colin moved out from behind her, throwing the halter on the growing pile of discarded clothes on the straw, and stood where he could clearly see her, the brazen thirteen-year-old stood there in her loose white shorts alone for all of them to see, probably proud that she gave them a better showing than had Karen when similarly displayed.
For her age her breasts were quite full… firm and round and as tanned as the rest of her slender body, smooth and balanced and large enough to cause a thin dark line of shadow as they slightly overlapped the fair skin below, and just touching each other. As she deliberately took a deep breath they seemed to swell, parted, then came together again, jouncing gently, their hard nipples casting their own black shadows on the soft globes. Bridling at the others' obvious admiration, she flushed delicately, and slowly brought her hands up from her hips, across her flat belly, and up until she could cup her child-sized but bounteous bosom, lifting them separately as though to offer further and closer examination.
Maryon stared, fascinated at this display, and inwardly hoped that some day she, too, would be as well endowed. Certainly it was what boys admired in a girl, judging from the absorption of the three in the barn. After a long, enraptured minute Johnny, with a gulp, said softly: "Uh, Sylvia, it's your turn now. What do you want?"
Still absently fondling herself, with a secret smile in her eyes, she said, "MMmmmmMMMhhh! Johnny, can't you guess?"
"Yeah… well, um, Sylvia, uh Colin did his thing okay, and now you'd better get back over there, huh?"
Maryon laughed to herself at the way he was upset by his girl's enjoyment of herself and her stark exposure to the others. Dreamily, and with a sigh which jiggled her tits, Sylvia sat down cross-legged next to the hay-bale. "Oh, all right," she said. "I'll have a Truth."
Johnny looked relieved. "All right, then… ah… Maryon seems to have more clothes on than any of the rest of us… so, is it true, Sylvia, that you'd like to take three things off her? Name 'em and take 'em off?"
Again Maryon seemed to be the focus, and she dimpled. Beside her, Sylvia stirred and turned to look up at her. "I think, first… the hat."
"Take it off for her, then!"
Sylvia got up and stood in front of Maryon. As she leaned over her full breasts swung out from her and, as the older girl's hands deftly removed her ribboned hat for her, the youngster found herself staring at the soft, swinging mounds before her eyes, the nipples now sunken back into their rosy aureoles. The hat was skated to the top of the pile, then Sylvia's voice was saying: "And the jacket," and her hands were pushing the shoulders of the blue jacket down over her arms. "Why don't you stand up-it's easier," said Sylvia, softly and, as the little girl obediently rose, brought the jacket down her arms and threw it away from her.
Now, Maryon was rather glad she'd worn so many clothes, otherwise three might have left her nothing, what with her lost panties and all. What would go next? Her tie? Shoes, socks? But the other girl's slim fingers were at her waist. "And the skirt, I think," and before Maryon had time to think, she felt a loosening of her belt. The short zipper at the side took a second, and then she was somewhat dazedly stepping out of the brown skirt before it, too, was consigned to the pile. She felt a breeze up about her stomach as the blouse fell loosely about her. She was wearing nothing underneath, Lois deeming her far too young for even a training bra – oh, how she wished she had tittles like Sylvia's! – and, apart from the tie still knotted neatly at her throat, her only coverings apart from the froth-fronted white silk blouse were her knee-high white socks and her black shiny shoes. Luckily, she thought, the level hem of her blouse came halfway down her thighs, but even so, when she came to sit back down on the hay-bale, its tightness caused it to ride up further, and she could feel prickly straw uncomfortably against her chubby bottom.
With a casual "Okay?" Sylvia resumed her cross-legged seat on the floor and, as casually, rested one warm hand on Maryon's knee. "It's your turn now, kiddo," she said. "You have to go out there and ask us all what we want."
Maryon considered, acutely aware of five pairs of older eyes turned and burning on her. She wasn't too sure of herself… it was a lot easier to let other people make the decisions, and they seemed to know a lot better than she did how this game really worked. Perhaps if she could get through it fast, so that it would be someone else's turn quickly? "All right, Sylvia," she said, hesitantly. "But – but I'd just as soon sit here."
"Righto, Maryon Alysun," called Colin, from the end, so she turned to Karen and asked her what she wanted.
As she'd hoped, she was able to move through them without having to think up anything very complicated, until she got to Colin.
Karen, on a Dare, had to take Derek's T-shirt off. Derek himself had to prove he truthfully liked to kiss Karen, which took a long time and a lot of strenuous movement as the couple embraced on the floor. Colin excused himself for a moment and left the barn, saying he'd come in on the end of the line, so Sylvia was next. She promised to take off Johnny's shirt, and did so, leaving the five of them bare from the waist up, which nobody seemed to mind. Johnny chose a Promise, too, and the little Inquisitor had to think for a moment, until she had him promise to find out whether Sylvia wore anything underneath her loose white shorts. Instead of unbuttoning herself, older girl stretched out one slim tanned leg, rolled and guided Johnny's eager hand up under the leg of the brief garment until it vanished altogether from view. But beneath the thin cotton they could all see his fingers stretching and spanning the beautifully curved mounds of Sylvia's pert ass, and believed him when he told them: "Not a thing!"
Colin came back, and it was his turn now. Chinning his long lean bronzed body on a rung of the ladder, he laconically indicated that he'd have a Dare. Maryon could come up with no quick challenge and, the more she thought about it, the more the others grew restless. "Cmon, kid, hurry up," urged Sylvia, her hand gently kneading Maryon's knee. The young girl tried to think, even more confused now with the pressure on her. "Why don't you have him do what he did with you?" asked Sylvia, almost certainly thinking of the prolonged and surprisingly passionate kiss. But Maryon misread her and eagerly turned to Colin. "I dare you to climb up and down the ladder before I count twenty," she said. And, amid universal groans of disgust, the English boy easily heaved himself up to the top then came sliding smoothly down again, well within the count.
"Your go, Karen," he said. But the ponytailed girl shook her head. "I can't think of anything much," she said, boredom in her voice. "Let Derek go first, if he wants to."
"Hey, everybody," interjected Johnny, "I've just thought of a great forfeit for Maryon – remember she owes me one."
"Let's hear it, then," said Sylvia.
"Maryon, first you stand up on that bale of hay you're sitting on," said Johnny. When she'd done so, he continued: "Now, Karen, you put your top over her head so she can't see, and, Maryon, you're not to try to see, and you must stand there until we tell you it's all right, and you mustn't say anything, and you mustn't even move unless we tell you! Okay… the rest of you come over here a minute, and I'll tell you what we'll do."
Left alone, sightless, standing on the bale in her blouse and shoes and socks, Maryon fearfully wondered what they were going to do. Would they leave her alone there, while they went off and had some fun together, leaving her out of it? Her head was hot beneath the top, and in contrast she felt the coolness on her thighs and stomach. Patiently she waited.
But not for long. After a great deal of whispering and giggling from the far corner of the barn, she heard shuffling footsteps approaching, and then, shockingly, a pair of hands locked on her ankles and firmly but carefully pulled them apart until her neat black shoes just rested on the crumbly edges of the bale. "Put your hands behind your neck, Maryon," came someone's voice, and dutifully she did so, trusting they would not hurt her. She could hardly conceal a gasp as hands then took hold of the bottom of her blouse and began to roll it up until it snugly nestled about her waist. They could all see all of her!!! Instinctively she tried to press her thighs together but her spread-legged pose made this impossible. Something in her shrunk but, gamely, she bit her lip and let them do what they wanted with her. It was part of the game!
And now a multitude of hands seemed to be upon her skin, from knee to waist, sliding, stroking, tickling until she began to wriggle in frustration-bringing muted whistles of appreciation – kneading, cupping, fondling, gently probing, brushing at the tiny tuft of golden down, caressingly thumbing apart the suddenly hard rigid cheeks of her ass, circling about her navel. Standing behind her, some one of them cupped her knees, then slowly ran his or her fingers up the round firm columns of her legs, stroked her thighs until she shivered uncontrollably, moved inward to prise apart the bubbly pink lips of her now blossoming slit, inserted the tip of a cool finger into her, sending a strong shudder through her small body, then withdrew it to continue firmly up over her little mound of gold-fuzzed flesh, lightly across her belly, then paused to move back around her waist under the rolled-up hem of her blouse, thumbs and forefingers gripping her strongly while other fingers made small circles against the skin of her sides, at a spot just above her hipbones.
It was delightful! Her breath came quicker as the tormenting sensation seemed to spread out from the toying fingers to warm her whole body from head to toes. She moved a bit, beginning to roll her hips in the same rhythm, taken up with the sheer, consuming pleasure that flooded her tiny frame.
Then without warning the pair of hands flattened against her and slid themselves up under the front of her ruffled white silk blouse until they reached her child's buds of breasts. She could have cried at the realization that she was flatter-chested even than Karen, and mourned that she was not bigger up there. But the fondling hands didn't seem to care – she hoped they belonged to Colin. A thumb and finger each nipped at her nipples, which had long since hardened like pencil ends, and began to twist them about excitingly, tugging and pressing until she thought she would go mad. Between her legs, where now other hands caressed her, she felt damp… the numb tingling making her twitch involuntarily as though she had to take a piss but, better than that, as though she was full of Coke down there, seething and bubbling and sizzling, ready to burst out of her. But nothing ever did, only sometimes when Mike spent a lot of time on her, a funny-smelling milky stuff would ooze out.
The hands at her breasts began to gather up what slight satin flesh there was there and to squeeze! squeeze! squeeze! deliciously. And sneakily from behind, when she least expected it, a sharp-nailed probing finger scratched across the edges of her tight-held asshole and she sucked in her breath and threw her slender hips forward. Immediately another shock, for as the finger behind insinuated itself, wriggling, into her, she felt hot breath at the foot of her belly, a contact with bare-fleshed bone, a brush of hair on her stomach and something hot and wet and round forced its way into her groin. One of them was kissing her cunt!
A series of long, moist kisses breathed hot fire into now, and the finger behind forced her to thrust herself against the anonymous face. The lips on hers quivered deliberately, and then she thrilled as a wiry, writhing, slithery firm something parted her damp, sticky, unbearably sensitive pink little pads and bored boldly into her, while all the time the mouth clamped to her sucked about it.
This was something new… something wonderfully new! Mike had never sucked her like this, though he'd kissed her lower mouth as often as she'd munched on him. Why… this was even better than a finger! Unheeding of the sight she made, standing there in her shoes and long white socks, hips and belly thrusting and rolling, she let the blood sing in her ears and felt it coursing in icy, fiery rivers through her body till she felt faint and feverish.
Things ended abruptly. The questing mouth left her, the tongue took its last lick around inside, the finger popped out of her ass, and the upper hands, with a last, painful pinch at her nipples, reluctantly slid down her bare belly, thoughtfully pulling down the hem of her blouse on the way. Someone gave her a hearty smacking kiss on her silk-covered butt, and then the breathing and the hands and the giggles left her alone and withdrew. As her head cleared she heard them moving softly about her, and when, at last, Johnny said: "Okay, Maryon, you've paid your forfeit. Take that thing off and get down," and she'd shakily resumed her bristly seat, she saw them sitting quietly down on the floor as before, none of them looking at her.
Instead, Johnny, in rather a strained voice, told Derek to take over as Inquisitor. Wiping his hands on his Bermudas, the stocky thirteen-year-old took his place before them. "Karen?" he asked.
Hugging her shallow breasts, the black-haired girl, her green-blue eyes firmly fixed on her toes, said "DARE!" in a voice Maryon decided was oddly hoarse.
Her boyfriend looked pale and tense as he said: "Then I dare you to show us all whether you have more hair down there than Maryon."
"Oh, no; not just me!" came the quick response from Karen.
"Then you'll have to pay a forfeit," began Derek, but Colin cut in with a cool: "Why not see if Sylvia wants a Dare, too, Derek."
As the boy looked inquiringly at the big girl in shorts, she nodded, licking her lips. "I'll take a Dare, too."
"The same Dare I gave Karen, then," said Derek, staring boldly at her.
The older girl, doing nothing to cover or prevent the sweet jostling of her youthful breasts, jerked her head at Karen. "Come on," she said, "I suppose we must. You can guess what the forfeit might be!" And the two girls, their expressions slightly mutinous, went off into the shadows of the barn.
Privately Maryon thought that the forfeits were much better than the rest of the game. She'd enjoyed hers, though it worried her that no one had paid her any attention since she'd sat down. But that, too, was to be changed, apparently.
In a moment the other two girls returned. They'd taken off their pants but they still held them protectively in front of their stomachs as they walked barefooted across the straw to the center of the semicircle. There, after a sort of mutual facial gulp! they stood side by side, facing the rest, then sullenly flung Levi's and shorts onto the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Maryon was surprised and impressed by the amount of hair that grew between thighs… so much more, certainly, than she had. While the tanned-skin Sylvia sported a crop of tight-curled brown spring-coils, the ivory white Karen, otherwise smaller in every way, surpassed her in this respect, with a fine, flourishing nest of jet black that reverse-triangled up her flat, pale belly and trailed a shaggy, two-inch-long tapered ebony arrow below, completely hiding any sight of her twelve years' vintage Mount of Venus.
The ponytailed girl's long lashes were lowered over her strange, green-blue eyes, but her companion in nudity held her chin high and stared brazenly back at the glittering eyes of the three boys. "Satisfied?" she said.
"Oh, no fair," drawled Colin. "We have to make the, um, full comparison, you know. Maryon, get out there and stand between 'em, eh, and let's see what you've got there."
Her legs weak, though she knew she shouldn't think any more of their seeing her like this – but, somehow, it was a lot different when she could see them – the blonde-braided girl walked over and placed herself in the middle of the other two. Bravely she reached down to the bottom of her white silk blouse and pulled it up on her stomach. She wondered if they'd want her to pull it higher, or even take it off, so she'd be like Sylvia and Karen, but they seemed to be satisfied.
"C'mon, you two," said Colin, "let's be good judges and properly examine them. Must be fair, you know!"
Following the English boy's lead, they crouched down in front of their nude and nubile captives and stared intently at the joints of their thighs. Though the two older girls demurred, Colin made them stand with legs apart and fingered each in turn, tweaking at their hairs until they complained, slyly inserting his fingers under them and casting an eye upward to observe the unselfconscious hardening of their nipples and the self-conscious suffusion of blood in their faces as they suffered his indignities. Derek and Johnny were not slow to follow their leader's example, though they were both a little less free with their own two girls; Colin, after all, was going back to England, while they would have to bear with their girls… well, forever!
But they made up for it by their treatment of Maryon, who felt herself growing positively sore as they plucked and pulled at her short, scrubby golden tuft to get it to its longest length, not forgetting to scrape their nails, at first excitingly, on her pink and juicy pubescent pads.
"Well, I think Karen wins by a length," quipped Colin, twining her jet-black veil about his fingers. "Gosh, don't you ever trim that bush?" he asked her as he got to his feet. She didn't reply, seemingly still sullen, though her hard, pointed black nipples in their raised brown marbled areolas betrayed her body's eager participation in its fingerative ravishment.
"Who's next?" called Derek, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants as the other boys returned to their seats, both, Maryon keenly noticed as she, too, somewhat regretfully pulled down her blouse and sat on her bale, taking care to sit cross-legged with their hands in their laps. Karen had begun to go over to her crumpled Levi's, but after a whispered word from Sylvia for her ear alone, she reluctantly sat beside the older girl, both of them drawing their heels up to their plumped-out butts and clasping their knees.
"Looks like me again, old sport," grinned Colin. "This time I'll settle for a Promise, I think."
"Um… let me think; oh, yeah… you gotta promise now to tell us whether you've ever been with a girl, you know… all the way."
"Jealous!?" said Colin. "Sure thing… more than one. And I mean… all the way, every which way!"
"Mmhh… okay. Johnny, whad'you want?"
"Truth!"
"Okay… is it true you've gone all the way with Sylvia?"
"Oh, you lousy bastard!" came the reply as the boy, put on the spot, went a deep red. He looked shiftily at Sylvia, but she refused to meet his eyes, her own face darkening. "Yes, of course!" he said defiantly, after a pause.
Johnny looked at the naked girl. "Sylvia, is that true?"
"No," she said, coolly, not looking up.
"Oh, sonofabitch," muttered Johnny.
"Looks like you'll have to pay a forfeit, chum," grinned Colin, running his hand through his helmet of golden hair.
"Oh, you shut up," said Johnny, furious, still crimson.
"Now, now, children," Karen surprisingly put in. "Don't let's have a stupid fight, huh!?"
"Yeah, cool it, Johnny, Colin. Well now, Johnny," said Derek, a cruel glint in his eye. "I reckon you ought t'be properly punished. So your forfeit is, to let Sylvia take your pants down and spank you."
"What!?" came the indignant protest. But a game's a game and rules are rules, Maryon, interested, observed, and watched curiously and keenly as the shamefaced Johnny, angrily muttering at Derek, let the kneeling Sylvia, her big breasts joggling, unbuckle his belt, unzip his fly, and tug at his tight jeans until they dropped stiffly about his thighs. "Help me, Karen," she said over her shoulder, and together the two girls, not bothering in any way to conceal their naked bodies from the hot, avid gazes of the others, pulled at the boy's pants until they were about his ankles. "Off altogether," decided Sylvia, and they roughly pushed Johnny till he sat on the ground, then jerked until he was as naked as they.
For he wore no underpants. Maryon saw that he didn't have as much hair on him as Michael, and his prick was thinner, too, although she couldn't properly tell because it was only just a little bit more hard than soft, the girl's handling and his exposure before his friends no doubt taking something from him. It looked limp and crestfallen, which exactly suited his mood. Without more ado, Sylvia had him kneel down on the straw and in a moment the only sound to be heard in the barn was the slap of palm on bare flesh. The pale white slabs of his ass began to redden, though the girl wasn't really hitting him so hard, and he kept his knees together, effectively pulling his dangling parts up to the crease of his stomach, and Maryon could see how he tightened his rear muscles to harden the smooth marble skin beneath the stinging hand. Karen, she noted, remained on her knees beside the pair and watched with a glitter in her eyes, though her face smiled. Sylvia's fine young breasts swung and swayed with her exertion, though her nipples stayed soft, and Colin and Derek seemed to be paying more attention to these attractive objects than to the punishment of their friend.
"That's enough, Syl," grumbled Johnny, after a minute or so, and, panting, her buoyant breasts swelling and shifting silkily against each other, his girlfriend sat back on her heels. Still hunched over, he started to crawl over to where his jeans were piled, but Karen expertly whipped them away, extending her lean, lithe young naked body flat on the floor to reach them before he did.
"Oh, no," she said. "What's fair for us is fair for you!"
Complaining under his breath, he went to sit by Sylvia, drawing his knees up.
Derek now looked at Maryon. "What'll you choose?" he said.
"A Dare, a Dare," she cried, excited, and hoping that it would somehow involve Colin again. But, instead, Derek dared her to go sit on Johnny's knees then, in an afterthought, told his friend to sit on the hay-bale first. The nude youth started to complain again that the straw was sticking in his ass, and didn't seem too thrilled about having the kid in his arms, so little Maryon decided to do her best to make him feel better. As soon as he'd sat himself down more or less comfortably, with his legs over the edge of the bale, she went over to him and, lifting the tail of her blouse up a bit, sat on his knees and slid along the groove of his thighs till she was close to him. Since it was her Dare, she guessed she could make her own arrangements, and, since his knees were hard and bony, she preferred the fleshier part of his leg to plant her own plump little rump on. Again there came that little electric spark just inside her cunt as the hairs on his thighs brushed roughly under her naked butt, and then she was settled firmly against him, with his cold, limp flesh hard pressed between her thigh and his stomach. Without really thinking what she was doing, she reached down with her right hand and grasped the length of his cock, adjusting it better against her, and hoping to warm it up. She heard him gasp and innocently turned her big blue eyes on him with some surprise. Hadn't he had a girl touch him before?
Johnny must have wondered what kind of little girl this was, after all, as her tiny fingers fondled and manipulated his cock and balls until the latter tightened and the former stiffened into a thin pencil. He rather guiltily looked about him but the others apparently couldn't see the delicate maneuver going on at his crotch. With a surreptitious movement he parted his thighs a fraction, with the result that Maryon's little white ass was clamped between them as it dropped, and she found she could more easily work her slim fingers under his taut testicles to toy with them. Letting her flexing hand rest there, she turned her attention back to the game.
Karen was up in front now, her naked white body dramatically contrasted by the glossy black curtain that concealed the joint of her thighs. Her shallow, oval breasts with their dark, hard centers flowed neatly into the other curves of her young body as she stood there with her weight on one leg, her hip thrown provocatively out. Her pert, long tongue licked her dry lips as she suddenly pointed to Derek, who'd just sat down. "Okay, lover," she said. "It should be Colin's turn now but will you go first… or are you chicken?"
Put this way, Derek could hardly refuse the challenge, and stared at her naked body lasciviously through narrowed eyes. "Sure I'll take first go," he said. "I'll have a Promise."
If he thought he'd get a delayed bit of action, he was sadly wrong. Karen's strange green-blue eyes widened to their fullest. "You have to promise to kiss my ass, right here and now!" she threw at him and, turning herself about, bent over with her hands on her knees, curving her spine so that the pale twin globes of her butt protruded at the startled watchers like a pair of blind eyes. As he hesitated she wriggled it at him, knees and thighs together, looking back past her body with her black ponytail flickering at her ear. Fascinated, Maryon could see the dark brown spot that was the girl's asshole and, even as she watched, Karen placed both hands on her wiggling rearward cheeks and pulled them apart, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind just where Derek was invited to place his lips. In Maryon's hand Johnny's prick suddenly swelled and began to twitch, and she squeezed it tighter.
"Shit! You find someone else to kiss your butt!" said Derek, outrage in his voice. "I'll kick it up your guts before I kiss it!"
"Chicken!" said Sylvia and Karen in unison, and both of them fell into a fit of giggles which set the older girl's uncontrolled soft breasts to quivering and Karen to stamping the floor. But she quickly recovered herself and, standing to face them again, rolling her hips as if to encourage Derek to think about what he'd missed, she said: "Forfeit! You got to give me a forfeit!"
"Okay, what," growled her erstwhile boyfriend.
"Same as Johnny's that you had him pay," she said, and called Sylvia up off the floor to help her. Standing the red-faced boy where the others could clearly see him, the two girls stripped his Bermudas down his legs to reveal he was smoother of skin even than Johnny'd been. His prick and balls were pink and hairless, Maryon saw, and hung down together completely lax. Instead of having him on hands and knees like Johnny, Karen posed him in the position she'd been in, bent-legged and with his plump smooth melons stuck defenselessly out, hands on his thighs. Sylvia thoughtfully spread his feet apart so that it was difficult for him to clench himself, and then Karen, standing beside him, really laid into him with a power and a passion that frightened Maryon just a little bit. The green-blue eyes slitted and the jet-black ponytail jerked like a small whip as the white-skinned girl spanked his bare ass as hard as she could, setting his flesh to quivering with the impact. In no time at all he was pink, and another half-dozen cracking blows inflamed him to a redness that matched that of his furious face. For Derek was in no way enjoying this punishment.
Curiously Maryon felt somehow stimulated by the sight of the naked couple in their tableau vivant, and as she imagined the feel of that flat, smarting, swinging hand on her own chubby rear she shifted herself on Johnny's thighs, increasing the pressure and clutching rhythm on the boy's now hot and hard red rod. Her mouth was dry as she stared at the scene. So entranced was she by it that she hardly noticed when Johnny slid a heavy hand along her leg and began to caress her moist pink cunt, and how her own thighs slid apart to accommodate his busy fingers.
But when, finally, Karen stopped her smacks and, in one quick movement bent her head and sank her teeth briefly into Derek's tender and hand-expectant rear end, Maryon's circling little fingers clamped so hard around Johnny's rampant cock that he jumped and all but threw her off.
Derek jumped forward and, cautiously feeling the place where Karen's white teeth had chomped him, but without breaking the skin, demanded: "What the fuck did you do that for!?"
"Oh… seemed like a good idea at the time," was her soft reply. But although she acted casually, Maryon noticed that now her hard little nipples stood out from her like nails, and that she pressed her legs together from ankle to crotch, swaying them as though she was impatient to take a piss. Bright patches of pink lit her cheekbones and her eyes were hot looking and moist as she turned to Colin.
"Dare!" he said without being asked.
Karen was obviously excited now, her hips swaying, her pointed red tongue wetly running over her lips, her weight going from one leg to the other, bent forward a little at the waist. "I dare you to prove that you've a bigger thing than Johnny's and Derek's," she said, without even pretending to think.
Colin didn't look at all surprised, but merely raised one eyebrow. He almost looked pleased, at last, in contrast to the embarrassed or annoyed expressions the other two had put on when they'd been forced to strip.
As casually as if he were going to take a shower, the tall English boy unzipped his faded pants, let them drop to his ankles, and stepped out of them, kicking them toward the pile. He strode straight up toward Karen, a mocking light in his eyes, took her hand, and placed it fair and square on his half-aroused prick.
Maryon drew in a deep breath. Of them all, he most was like Michael. A soft golden down surrounded him and, as he stood, deliberately, in a shaft of sunlight, it almost looked as though there was an aura about him, a kind of yellow halo. "I suppose you want a proper comparison?" he asked calmly, in charge of the situation. "Derek, Johnny, get your Yankee asses over here and let the girls see your stuff. And Sylvia, Maryon, you'd better come and help Karen to judge."
Karen had let go of him and stepped back, as though content to let him run things. When the three boys stood there, only Johnny had a complete hard-on, and Colin winked at Maryon as she came over to them. "Looks like you've got an unfair advantage, Johnny," he said. "You three birds better do something to us to, uh, get us started. For a kick-off, maybe another look at your jolly old quims'll do it. Your little jam-holes, your cunts, luvs," he added when they looked blank. "Don't you birds know what a quim is? Also called a fanny, back in England, not the same as your fanny, your backsides. Well, anyway, let's get on with it, eh? I reckon you two'll want your fellers to do their best and try and win, eh… so, hop to it. You're lucky, Sylvia… old Johnny's quivering at the post already. I'll just have this little luscious lollypop, young Maryon Alysun, work her wicked will with me."
Maryon stood before him, not quite sure what was expected of her, watching from the corner of her eye as Sylvia leaned her lush naked self against Johnny, throwing her arms about him and hugging him so that his cock stood up like a ramrod between their tolling, writhing bodies, and Karen, with lowered lashes, began to stroke Derek's slowly rising staff with one hand, the other gently smoothing his still pink buttocks, murmuring softly to him the while.
"Tell you how well do it, luv," whispered Colin, bending his head. "We'll have another of those beautiful kisses of yours, eh? Only this time well have you up here… like this!" And as he spoke he reached down to put a hand on each of her thighs, lifted them to ride the blouse up over her belly, gripped her waist and, with easy effort, picked her up and held her against him so that, as he let her slip a bit, her belly plumped against his. Holding her with one hand as she contentedly rested there, with the other he parted her thighs and fingered himself until his soft tanned meat was between them. And then he kissed her as he had before, only this time, with nothing between them, and his questing hand cupping and fondling her unstraining nakedly exposed ass, it was so much better, so much more exciting, so trembling wickedly cunt-clenchingly quim-twinklingly fine and feverish that she let herself sink into a sickish, faintish dream in which nothing existed except the feel of his stiffening long cock between her legs, and of his probing finger into her tiny tight asshole, and of his dominating tongue swelling into her open, eager mouth so that she could hardly breathe. Her own small hands wandered like soft, mindless animals over his chest and sides, and her legs instinctively tried to come together to trap him, and moved up and down to roll him between their hot, moist velvet insides. She wriggled, and writhed again, secretly wanting to have his cock inside her, though she wasn't sure what would happen then, and her whole sensitive groin sheerly ached for the void to be filled.
But Colin, it seemed, was much more intent on having his own pleasure satisfied than in worrying about hers, and after far too short of time he set her down, letting her weakly, blindly stagger off till she fell to the ground as he spread his legs, thrust out his belly, and pointed to his thick, long, pale-brown prick, which jerked spasmodically with its want.
Poor Maryon hardly cared as the other two girls, no less excited than she, no doubt, but far more used to keeping some semblance of cool, visually and physically compared the three proud upthrusts of manhood and declared Colin the winner.
Trying to hide her feelings, her inflamed mind seeing more than her eyes, she was but half aware of Sylvia 'Promising' that soon – not now! – she would go all the way with Johnny, but she'd calmed down a bit in time to be startled by Karen's Dare to Johnny that he dress up in some of Maryon's things and act like a girl for her!
Her little fist stuffed hard against her pubic mound beneath the concealing blouse, Maryon watched in amazement as the boy, grinning and acting the clown, stepped into her skirt, belted it clumsily about him, slipped her jacket with difficulty onto his broader shoulders, and put the hat on his head. He was a bit more bashful when Karen ordered him to slide the skimpy brown panties up his bony legs, but he nevertheless complied.
"Okay?" he asked, grinning, standing in front of Karen and swaying his hips in a mockery of feminine ways. But his expression changed to one of indignation when, at a nod from Karen, the lissome Sylvia hipped her way across to him and began to touch him up, running her slender hands up and down his legs under the skirt and fondling his butt, playing with his hard boy's nipple and, finally, thrusting her hand into the hidden panties and tormenting him until he didn't know which way to look. When Sylvia presently, amid giggles and laughter from the others, tugged the panties down about his knees, Maryon could see a darker wet spot among the folds.
"Just a taste of your own medicine, sweetheart," said Sylvia, kissing him with exaggerated passion, her hand still busy on him under the brown skirt. When she stepped away the cloth stood out from him, hanging, like a flag on a pole, and even Maryon could see that was funny.
Now she realized that it was her turn again, last of all, and wondered what new grown-up-like thing they would think of next. She hoped it would be something exciting, like a lot of the other things that she'd enjoyed. And, for once, her wish came true.
When Karen, flaunting her black-haired nudity, stood before her and asked her choice, she shrugged her young shoulders and said: "Truth!" It didn't seem to make much difference what one said in this peculiar but oh-so-pleasant game – it always managed to come out the same sort of way.
Karen winked at her. "All right, Maryon, since this is the last one we'll do, I suppose, I'll make it special, and something for all of us."
"Hey, don't forget she's still got that other Dare to do for me," called Sylvia, who was encouraging Johnny to stroke her bumptious little breasts while fumbling under his shirt with her fond fingers as they lay back against the ladder.
"Yeah, okay," said Karen, then put her hands on her hips and looked Maryon in the eye. "The question is, is it true that you've enjoyed yourself so far today; and is it true you'll let us all enjoy ourselves by doing what I say?"
Maryon nodded her head energetically, her golden braids swinging behind her. "Yes, Karen, this is fun. And I'll do anything to make you all happy!"
"Karen, can I do this one?" asked Colin from the shadows, and stepped forward. After a quick, bidden look at him, the nude white-skinned girl shrugged, setting her slim breasts to shaking like creamy Jell-O. Colin went over to the bale of hay and stretched himself back on it, feet and head dangling. "Righto, now come over here, Maryon, and we'll work something out for them all, eh?"
Obediently she got to her feet and squatted near his head to listen carefully as he gave her his instructions.
So it was that presently she found herself sitting on his firm flat gold-tanned stomach, facing his feet, with her thighs parted as wide as she could get them, straddling his with her knees. Behind her, she knew, Sylvia lay stretched out face down on top of her cousin, her soft ass up against her own, and with Colin's hand jammed, palm up, between them. The English boy's championship prick stood proud and hard as she nestled her cunt in its fork, and it was sandwiched against her thin belly by Karen's as the ponytailed girl stood facing her between Colin's parted thighs, with his knees up and his heels jammed back against the edge of the hay-bale. Strange hands were up under her blouse, teasing her little nipples, and her own face was buried against her friend's shallow breasts, her lips moving from one to the other. In each hand she held a smaller cock, one Derek's, the other Johnny's thinner shaft, and above her own she could feel Karen's warm and pulsing palms. The two boys, she knew, had one hand each on her budding breasts, and the other on Karen – she could tell each time the girl's asshole was fingered, or her flanks stroked, by the excited twists and thrusts of the hard black-matted pelvis separated from her own seeking quim only by the mashed magnificence of Colin's throbbing prick.
Her senses were imbued by the sweet smells of sweat and oil, and the hot fetid crush of palpitating flesh. And every time that Colin, by accident or design, let his hand slide between his belly and Sylvia's writhing hips to quiver a finger so deliciously into and under the crack of her rosy plump ass's cheeks, she involuntarily jerked and increased the loving movements of her busy hands and mouth and twitching crotch until she thought she'd faint for real. There was no sound in her singing ears save the heavy quick pulse-beat of her blood, the moans and grunts and heavy breathing of the others, and her own husky childish words. "Fuck. Cunt. Fuck. Quim. Fuck. Prick… fuck… cunt… fuck… quim… Prick… cock… cunt, oh! – cunt – fuck – cunt – fuck – cunt – fuckunt – fucquim – fuckunt – quim – fuckunt – cock – fuckunt – cockfuckunt… cockfuckunt… cockfuckunt… cokfuckunt; ooooohooooohoooohoooohoooohoooohooooh!!! Oh fuck oh cunt oh cock oh-fuck oh cunt oh fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK!" until in frenzied, unrequited unsatisfied frustrated lust for letting blow the bomb whose fuse she'd set she hungrily chewed on Karen's soft breasts and rolled the hard spiky nipples between her teeth and jerked like a milkshaker with her hands at the hot and throbbing heaving stalks of flesh in them and lifted herself wetly on and off the boiling bellied boy beneath her, and reached for his soaring golden prick with her questing quim and felt Sylvia begin to buck and jerk against her buttocks, and sobbed brokenly at the pain in her titties as the boys unmindfully pinched them and then… then… as it'd never happened with Mike, something seemed to break deep inside her and a hot, peppery flow scoured the soft and tender pink walls of her secret cuntish cavern and gold and red and orange shapes pressed upon her eyeballs and the cheeks of her ass spread and she farted and on her belly a hot fountain spent itself and Karen's arms came around her thin-clad shoulders and pressed her closer into the warm silk bags of her breasts and the wet nipples in her mouth went in and out like snails' eyes and liquid warmth dripped down upon her hands until they were slick in their rapid strokings and Sylvia banged up and down against her back and all about her were moans and groans of ecstasy and a whiteness flashed over her and the singing in her noise rose to an unbearable pitch, and she collapsed backward onto the bucking uncaring butt of the shuddering, snorting girl behind her and felt Karen lean, following, over her to clasp her in a vibrant embrace… and her hands fell limp and lax from the gulping, spitting cocks… and someone's knuckles ground into her aching, exhausted groin… and a mouth bit at her nipple, and something seemed to whip fleetingly at the other, and she whispered: "Oh-fuck-cunt-cock-fuck…" and knew no more.