Chapter 34: Letting Go

When the movie ended, Tamara and Peter decided to stop off at a coffee shop for a quick latte and to discuss the movie. They were still speaking French to help Peter with learning more vocabulary, but a few idioms were still escaping him.

“C’était une douce romance,” Tamara said as she sipped her drink. “Mais je pense que toute cette nudité était un peu artificielle, tu penses?” [That was a sweet romance, but I think all that nudity was a little contrived, do you think?]

“Ouais, et comment ils font en sorte que les acteurs acceptent de faire des scènes de nu. Je suppose que les mecs doivent avoir des érections; vous remarquez comment les ... um, camera angles? et les, ah ... cuts? ont été faits pour suggérer plutôt que pour montrer des choses?” Peter replied. [Yeah, and how they get actors to agree to do nude scenes. I suppose the guys must get erections; you notice how the camera angles and cuts were done to suggest rather than show stuff?]

Tamara told him the words he didn’t know. Then, she asked, “Et les scènes du parc nudiste. Est-ce que ces choses étaient réelles—comme si des trucs comme ça se passaient vraiment là-bas?” [And the scenes at the nudist park. Were those real—like does stuff like that really go on there?]

Peter chuckled. “I got that, but I’m gonna give up again for now—it’s getting difficult to concentrate. English again, please?”

Tamara nodded, grinning. “But you’re getting better and that’s good.”

Peter continued, “At my resort? Stuff does go on, but in private, just like real life. A lot of the movie was just fine. The pool, the sports, stuff like that, they were okay. But even though the park in the movie was supposed to be a family resort, did you notice anyone who looked younger than their mid-twenties?”

“No, interesting. Ah, they can’t show underage nudity, I’m sure. But group sex going on in the hot tub like that? Does that happen?”

“Ha. Not that I’ve ever heard about, but it could happen. At my resort, Barbara and I do know about a few swinger couples who sometimes show up but they’re very discreet. Our hot tub isn’t in a high-traffic area, so what happens late at night—who knows? Um, if something naughty was happening regularly, we kids there would’ve found out real quick, and I never heard about anybody getting caught. Damn, but going to that place is so much fun! Oh yeah, that reminds me. I forgot to mention, but now that we’re on that topic, Barbara and I, and all of our cousins—you haven’t met any of them—plan to go to the resort for two to three weeks in mid-August. I’d like it if you’d think about going. It’s a true nudist place, not clothing-optional, and not like the resort Emma goes to where the pool and spa are the only nudity-required areas.”

“Um, I’ll need to think about it first. I may want to talk to Barbara too. And to Emma. I was kinda uncomfortable when I was at her place and visualized my stripping, so I need to find out how she did it herself.”

“Sure.”

They finished up and left for their building.

“Hey, why not stop by my apartment now and you can talk to Barbara,” Peter said as they went into their building.

But when they got to Peter’s apartment, Barbara wasn’t there.

“Guess she’s still ... Oh, here’s a note from her.” Peter read the note. “Says she went home and will be back tomorrow. She needed to get one of her nice dresses for that department event she’s going to. What are you looking at...?”

Tamara had found a photo album and was leafing through it.

“What’s that doing out here? Oh, Barbara must have been looking for a picture, maybe one with the dress she went home for,” Peter said and then noticed that Tamara was looking at a page of nude photos.

“These are really nice—the place is lovely,” Tamara said. “You were how old here? Sixteen?”

He looked. “Yeah, a year or two after my Program torture began.” He looked at a few photos and shuddered. “Look at my face. Not the other parts.”

Tamara giggled, “The other parts look too good not to look at. Oh, I see. You look haggard.”

Tamara felt a wave of embarrassment and grief flow from him so she stood up and hugged him.

“Yeah, it happened and it was bad, but you’ve recovered and it’s all over,” she whispered in his ear. “I know sometimes stuff triggers bad memories but remember, just think of the present, not the past. It’s hard to learn that, but my dad told me all about his PTSD from combat and how he chases the demons away.”

She “pushed” a tiny bit of light green taste to him and he sighed.

“Ahhh, you’re doing that calming thing again. God, Tamara, you’re such a sweet doll; I don’t deserve you.”

Tamara pulled him into a kiss. “Peter, you deserve the best. I’m nowhere the best, but I hope you like me.”

“Mmmmm, I like you a whole lot and in my book, you’re way the best,” he said into her mouth as their tongues wrestled each other’s.

Tamara slipped her hands under his shirt to feel his bare skin.

“Ahh, I’ve wanted to do that ever since Emma’s barbeque,” she sighed. “And that frikkin’ movie turned me on, ‘cause it made me think of you walking around there all naked and everything.”

She pulled up on his shirt. “C’mon, take it off. I want to feel your body.”

Soon they were kissing passionately and had sunk down onto the couch. Tamara kicked off her sandals and reached down to pull off Peter’s slip-ons.

“So we won’t get the couch fabric dirty...” Tamara said between kisses.

After a minute, Peter sat up.

“This is uncomfortable, sweetheart. Would you like ... I mean ... is it ... can we go to my room? If it’s okay?”

“Uh huh. It’s okay.”

He got up and pulled her arms up. Holding hands, they walked into Peter’s bedroom. Tamara’s heart was pounding so hard she could almost feel her eyes throb.

Will we do it, now? Will he want to? Will I want to? The thoughts raced through her head.

Tamara stopped and turned him around to face her, with the back of Peter’s legs almost touching his bed. She rubbed his bare chest sensuously, circling his nipples.

“I’ve wanted to do that ever since we were at Emma’s,” she breathed.

“You’re incredible, Tamara. I’m so lucky we met, and even luckier that you like me.”

Tamara smiled at him and caressed his cheek. “You know that we can feel each other’s emotions,” she said. “We must have been brought together for a reason. And I’m lucky that you like me.”

Peter took Tamara’s face in his hands and looked into her eyes as she looked back at him.

It’s like I’m seeing his eyes for the first time, she thought. I never realized what an intense look he has; looking in his eyes, it feels like I could fall into them, so deep and dark.

Their lips met for a kiss; gentle at first but then it grew intense. Tamara began to feel her nipples stiffening, then tingling, and a hot feeling began to flow from them downward.

Jeez, and he hasn’t even touched me yet, she thought. Please, touch me, please.

As if he could read her mind, Peter’s hand dropped to her chest and caressed her there as their kiss continued. She pushed herself into his hand to intensify the feeling.

“Tamara? Is it okay?” he asked, fingering a button on her top.

“Yeah ... You can.”

Peter undid a few buttons; then Tamara grabbed the bottom hem of her top and pulled it up over her head with one movement. Then with a deft twist, she unclasped her bra and let it slip off her shoulders.

Peter pulled back and looked appreciatively. Her shapely breasts—a full B-cup, he thought—stood out proudly from her chest and her nipples poked out, looking like tall thimbles sitting on the prominent cones of her areola. Her almond skin glowed like burnished gold.

“Jesus, Tamara,” he breathed, “they’re incredible. You’re incredible. None of the naked girls in high school looked anything like you ... or at the resort either...”

Tamara laughed, “Your mind was clear enough to notice their tits, then.”

“Well, yeah, um...”

She silenced him with a kiss. Then, looking him in the eyes, she slipped her hands around him, slid them under the waistband of his shorts, and grasped his buttocks. She had also wanted to do that ever since he had stripped at Emma’s. She wasn’t disappointed. She ran her palms over his smooth, silky skin and rock-hard muscles. She caressed him, sliding her hands all around his buttocks and into the crevasse between them. He sighed as her hands explored.

Meanwhile, Peter’s hands played with her breasts, his fingers tweaking her nipples. Tamara’s breathing started to become erratic.

He’s gonna make me cum just rubbing my boobies! She realized and pulled away, eliciting a complaining moan.

As she pulled away, she pulled down on his shorts and they, plus his underwear, slipped off his hips, only to get stopped by the large tent poking them out in the front.

Woo, gonna see that erection now with no water in the way! she rejoiced.

She pulled the waistbands forward and down, letting both garments fall to the floor. Peter stood there naked as Tamara feasted her eyes on his taut body. She loved his muscle definition, his sleek body lines, the way the muscles over his hips tapered in toward his groin, the way the line of light hair led the eye from his navel down to...

Ohmygod, it’s huge! And stiff and hard, curving up like that. It’s gotta be over six inches! Thick too, double his soft size?

Peter brought her out of her daze.

“That’s a real ego boost, sweetie, how you’re, um, ravishing me with your eyes. It’s just a standard-issue boy body, all average—well, a bit thin. A lot of the kids in high school looked kinda like me, a skinny geek.”

“You can’t tell me that monster’s average,” Tamara rejoined, pointing down.

Peter laughed. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’m a little less than six inches. I checked, that’s in about the 60^th percentile. The seven-inchers plus you may hear about are in the 98^th percentile. I’m close to average down there too.”

“Well, there’s nothing average about your brain, then. And that was what first attracted me to you.”

Peter laughed hard. “This is so crazy. Are we truly geeks or what? Here we are, making out like the horny kids we are, and we stop to discuss statistics? C’mere, doll. Can I do the great reveal on you? Ever since we were at Emma’s, I’ve been lusting to see all of your delicious body.”

But Tamara pulled him into a crushing hug and kiss first, reveling in the feeling of her rigid nipples boring into Peter’s chest. Then she pushed back.

“Vas-y, fais la fête,” Tamara told him, then, “Oops, ‘go ahead; have a party,’ I meant to say. When my emotions start rising, I tend to think in French.”

Peter hooked his thumbs in Tamara’s shorts and pulled them down, leaving her panties on.

“I fantasized about this, darling. I wanted to see you in panties only, first. Am I a pervert?”

“No, I think it’s cute. Maybe because it’s something forbidden. How’s this different than a bikini bottom?”

He shook his head, then ran his hands over her buttocks over the panties and she shivered.

“Wow,” she said. “I got a tingle from that. Very erotic.”

Then Peter pushed her panties down, looked at her pubis, which was closely trimmed, and sighed.

“My god, so gorgeous. Words fail me.”

They moved into another hug but this time, Tamara’s hand quested for and found Peter’s penis. She put her hand around it reverently. Her fingers barely met when she encircled its girth. Meanwhile, Peter’s hand had gently slid between her legs and his fingers pushed up into her vulva, insinuating them between her lips. She was soaked; her juices began flowing along his fingers into his palm. Then he found her clit and brushed it gently. Tamara groaned as she shuddered a little.

“Was that...?” Peter asked.

“I had a little orgasm,” she confirmed. “You’re very gentle. Learn that in the Program?”

Peter snorted. “Sure. I had lots of practice. I didn’t tell you some of the other stuff that happened. Maybe I’ll be able to soon. Being with you is healing my soul, darling.”

Tamara felt his emotions confirming his words and some tears formed unbidden in her eyes. She tamped down her empathic senses a bit to recover her erotic feelings. That’s when Peter dropped his head and began to suckle on her nipples, alternating between sides, and they stiffened and elongated even more, becoming fat, now projecting almost an inch out from their areola.

Tamara felt like another orgasm was building but she wanted to delay it, so she pushed his head away and grabbed him for another kiss. As they kissed, Peter pulled her along with him as he backed into his bed, holding her as he sat down and lay back.

“Ugh,” she grunted as she wound up flat against his chest. Then he rolled her off him onto her back with her legs hanging off the side of the bed. He moved off the bed, squatting at her knees, pushing them apart and leaning in, breathing in her scent. Tamara’s thighs were coated with a sheen of her juices.

Peter stared at the thrilling sight of her vulva. A twinge of disappointment crossed his mind that this was one of the parts of the Program that he had missed out on; exploring the vulvas of helpless girls as they lay on tables in front of classrooms... stop ... it’s just another bad memory. He wasn’t going to dwell on those memories anymore; that terror was over. He concentrated on the wonderful view in front of him.

Tamara’s outer labia were already bright pink, swollen, and had opened enough to allow the engorged inner labia to poke out. He could see the little pea-shaped bump of her clitoris peeking out from its protecting tissues. Peter leaned in and began to kiss and lick her vulva, causing Tamara to jerk and hiss with surprise.

“What are you doi—oh, shit! Oh, oh, ohmygod, oh OH!”

Peter grinned to himself and with his lips, took her clit between them and sucked lightly. She screeched. Then, using his fingers, he parted her lips and began lapping her entire perineum from her anus to her clit, over and over. He had wondered about the taste—it was a bit funky, but since it was Tamara, that was okay. He tried licking the little star of her anus, worming his tongue into it, and was rewarded by another shriek as her thighs slammed against his ears.

“Peter—that was nasty!” he heard, his ears muffled by her thighs.

So he tickled his tongue there again to see if she meant it, and Tamara’s legs spread even wider as she moaned, “Mmm ... ahhhh...”

Then Peter left her anus and started lapping her vulva again, beginning at her vagina, using his flattened tongue, working it between her inner lips while stroking his fingers between her inner and outer lips. He noticed that her hymen was still intact but it only covered about half of the passage behind it. He carefully tried sliding a moistened finger through the hole but after he pushed it in an inch, he heard, “Ouch. You poked in my vaj?”

“Yeah,” his mouth muffled by her vulva. “Sorry.”

He redoubled his efforts on her vulva, doing the things that had made her squeal before and she began panting and squirming, trying to use her hands on his head to pull his mouth tighter into herself. Tamara’s vulva was so soaked now, that his fingers made squishy sounds as he caressed her; her juices were flowing so freely that little rivulets were running down her buttocks.

Tamara was moaning constantly now; her head was thrashing side to side, and she was rocking her pelvis up into his face, so Peter decided it was time to see if he could make her cum. He remembered that her clit seemed to be sensitive, so he tried sucking it in between his lips and using his tongue tip to tickle it.