Chapter 2

Tommy was my first. He was my first in a lot of things, just as I was his first. When we began learning about the opposite sex, he and I were paired up. That was back before my secondary sexual charactristics began budding, i.e. pubic hair and boobs. There isn't much to see when you're that age, and we sort of looked, noted, and ignored. I was a girl, and I was shaped this way, he was a boy, and he was shaped that way. Big deal.

We hung together a lot. Call it natural attraction or something. You saw this a lot. Boys and girls were pairing up, though without getting intimate. Without a lot of the artificiality iposed by clothes, and without the customs imposed by the outside world, we sought out those we were naturally attracted to.

Then puberty hit, and I felt really awkward around him. He was getting hairy! I was, too, but not in the same places. You sort of feel embarrassed, or something, it's really hard to say. Things are changing, you know they are, and nothing seems to fit quite right.

At a time like that you can go one of two ways. Eventually you learn to accept what Nature's done, but some girls revel in it, some hate it. The people at the Ranch are familiar with this, and over and over they stressed how we should enjoy what we were becoming. Sure, you felt awkward, you were flooded with feelings you hadn't had before, but you were becoming a woman, and this was a good thing. We had a lot of sessions on improving our looks, doing things only a girl/woman can do, and so on.

One of these was sexual, of course. It was a place devoted to that. We learned to masturbate.

All girls go through the process of touching themselves "down there". You're curious. You do a little exploring. When you do you discover that touching can feel good. In the outside world there's a lot of effort spent on making girls not do that. They only want sexual pleasure to come at the hands of a man. They don't put anywhere near that amount of effort on stopping boys from beting off; they know there's very little they can do to stop them. Girls, on the other hand, are more amenable to control, especially iof you reinforce it with group pleasure.

At the Ranch it was quite the opposite. Very wearly on we were introduced to vibrators. We had entire sessions after we got back from school where a bunch of girls were sitting around with vibrators pressed up between our legs. The room was filled with buzzing, the occasional gasp, and more than a few moans. Orgasms followed.

Every girl learns how to get herself off, at least at the Ranch. There's nothing wrong with it, it's a good release of nervous tension. I was no different than anyone else. Whether it was at the Ranch or at home, I'd get home from a day of schooling, undress, lie out on the bed, and spend some quality time getting off. I learned what it felt like as my body got ready to come, I learned how to drag it out, how to hurry it up, and most important of all, how to have another one almost right away.

Being girls, we talked about everything, including this. Especially this. We didn't talk to the outsider girls, the non-Ranch girls, about this. As far as they knew, we hung around the pool naked, did our homework in groups, naked, and did whatever else nudists do, naked.

We did.

We also explored our bodies, naked, masturbated in groups, naked, and watched the boys do the same thing, likewise naked. Then it occurred to us to masturbate while watching the boys do the same. You ended up with 20 kids all rubbing and storking away furiously, spasming and spurting, moaning and gasping, and finally sort of relaxing, realizing we'd just taken a big step.

That turned out to be what was intended. Now we did things, thee were activities at the Ranch that you did as part of a couple. Tommy and I would sit together while watching a movie, and it didn't take long before our hands went straying. Maybe somebody saw us, or maybe it was considered time, but the next session we began learning how to bring the other sex off.

In the movies there are girls who get sexually aroused by jacking a guy off. I don't see it. I felt a sense of accomplishment when I got him hard, and when his come shot into the air I took that as a reward. The pleasure wasn't sexual, it was intellectyual.

He applied himself in learning how to do me, and that meant doing something that would have been ahbhorrent to the girls at school: I spread my legs and let him look "down there".

As far as I can tell, boys aren't supposed to see girls "down there" except in a strip club. Even then, the boy is supposed to get only a brief flash, mostly hidden by pubic hair. Most girls don't get a good look at themselves either, so I guess it's considered fair. And you're not supposed to look at pictures of the opposite sex when they're naked. That's "dirty" or something.

Of course at the Ranch you have a hard time not noticing that part of someone's anatomy. It doesn't look like much, at least in girls, just a fold of skin mostly hidden between the legs. Then their bush grows in and that's hidden, too. Boys are a lot more obvious.

For the longest time a trimmed bush was a no-no at a nudist resort. I think there was fear of pedophilia, or perhaps it was the last protective layer, and girls were allowed that (girls get coddled an awful lot at a nudist resort). One of the boys suggested something else. Guys had something "down there", a pubic bush was a way of having a girl have something "down there". In a way I guess it makes sense.

When bikinis began to get to the micro-mini size and girls began trimming their bush. You didn't want curly hair peering over the waistband of your biknini. It didn't take long before some girls began trimming their hair in specific patterns.

At the Ranch the two most popular were the landing strip and the little delta. The former was a line of hair exactly lined up with your sex lips. It extends several inches up onto your tummy. The joke was that a guy only had to follow the landing strip to land where he wanted to be.

The little delta came in two styles. The fisrt was a separate triangle of hair with it's tip right at the junchture of your sex lips, your labia. It was enough to show that you were mature enough to have hair, but you didn't make a big deal out of it. The other option was to simply keep the hair that was around your labia (but hopefully not on it) and trim it into a nice little delta. This looked almost natural, and a lot of girls liked it that way.

Some TV show favored going completely bare, bald, or whatever you wanted to call it. You were as hairless as when you'd been 10. This wasn't that popular at the Ranch because it kind of made you look immature down there. Still, that showed the power of TV and Hollywood personalities. Me? I preferred a little hair, usually a form of the delta.

Pubic hair grows very quickly, and so girls could experiment. Everyone tried the different styles, and there were some humorous results: one girl did hrs up in a hart; another girl favored an arrow, pointing right at her pussy. And LaDonna liked the revrse landing strip. That was weird looking. But whatever you did, and this was the downfall of the various styles, you had to learn to maintain it. Guys had to learn to shave every day, and girls did, too. We shaved our legs fairly often, we had to learn to take care of the peac fuzz at the same time.

Some girls in the next age group even made a game of it. They'd hang in a certain area, you'd go back there and find them shaving. There wre always boys around, fascinated, watching this depilation ritual.

The girls I felt sorry for were the ones who had hair growing on their labia. You didn't take that off with a razor. That's when you invested in creams. I didn't have that problem, thank God, and every time I saw them messing around like that I flinched.

I might add that this obsession with pubic hair was not that common among the girls of the fabric world. Oh, they tried it as dictated by the world of TV, but it didn't become a big deal.

The other thing we obsessed over was breast size and shape. No woman is ever really, totally satisfied with the size and shape of her brests. The catalogue of problems is endless. They're too big, they're not big enough. They're more pointed, they're round and flat, they're round and just hang, and so on. The trouble is, every girl has an image in her mind of what she thinks would be the ideal look and shape for her, and she's disappointed when she doesn't match it. Thisapplies to all girls, whether they're nudists or not. It's just that at the Ranch you see all shapes and sizes, and you get a lot more, wel, not accepting, but you get a lot more used to things.