Chapter 1

September 1982

When it happened the first time, Samantha was confused, plus a little frightened. Sometime in the night she was woken by water splashed over her face and chest. She woke in an instant, sat up, spitting the water from her mouth. At first, she couldn’t place where she was. She wasn’t in her bedroom, but then recalled she was in the basement of her home. What she couldn’t understand was, who had thrown the water over her and where was the culprit? Sam had a vague memory of someone leaving the room as she woke, but why would they throw water over her? If one of her girlfriends had been in the house, she would have suspected her of the prank, but apart from her parents, there was only Uncle Ross, and he was no child, he was Dad’s best friend.

Sam knew she must change her soaked nightie. She put on the small lamp by the side of her cot and pulled it over her head. As she held it she discovered it wasn’t water. It was white, not clear like water, plus it was sticky. It smelt strange too, an unknown odour. She stared at it which didn’t provide an answer. It was something new and the more she studied it, the greater the sense that she should keep it a secret. No reason she could think of, but something nagged in the back of her brain to keep it quiet. She hid the nightie.

Hmm, she thought, how to get a clean one from her bedroom could be a problem. Uncle Ross, who was not part of the family, so not an actual uncle, always had her bed when he came to stay, which is why she slept in the basement each time. The difficulty was, would she wake him? For the moment, she preferred to lie back and day dream about him, something she did almost daily.

Even on the first day they met she had a crush on him. It was his first visit to their house in London. She sighed when she pictured his face. How handsome he was, tall, slim and elegant in his business suit.

Back then, when Dad introduced her, she was speechless, even blushed and ran from the hall. As she rushed upstairs to her room, they were laughing and Mum explaining, ‘Sam’s only 14, Ross, although I didn’t know she was so shy with strangers.’

‘Maybe she’s reached that age when she’s become self-conscious, ‘ Ross said. ‘Not that she should be concerned. She’s very pretty.’

She’d waited outside her room listening to his deep voice, wishing she had the courage to go back downstairs. He said I was pretty, oh wow!

That was over a year ago and now I’m sixteen, so much more mature ... but still in love.

Two minutes later, Sam was moving along the landing, careful not to wake everyone. She’d decided she had to take the chance and just hope Ross was a heavy sleeper. There was no way she would be able to explain the messed up nightie to Mum, nor could she explain why she slept in the nude.

She carefully opened her bedroom door and looked inside. All was quiet and still. She tiptoed across the carpet to her drawer and slowly tugged on the knobs. Careful though she was, there was a creak as it opened.

‘Hello?’ came the deep voice she adored.

Sam was about to turn to face him, until she recalled she was naked. ‘It’s me, Uncle Ross, ‘ she whispered.

He sat up in bed and clicked on the light. ‘Oh, hi Sam. What you doing?’

‘Getting a clean nightie.’

She looked over her shoulder at him as she rummaged through the drawer. He wasn’t looking at her face, but gazing at her backside.

‘Oh, ok, ‘ he whispered, his eyes still fixed on her naked rear.

Knowing his eyes were appraising her nakedness made Sam tingle. Part of her wanted to stay so he could feast on her nudity, and part of her, the shy part, was anxious to leave. Finally, she took the top nightie from the drawer, no longer caring which one, and scampered towards the door, suddenly embarrassed.

‘Stop, ‘ he whispered.

She did.

‘Close the door ... quietly.’

The girl did as ordered. It didn’t enter her mind to refuse him.

Sam paused after shutting the door. She couldn’t possibly turn around, not without clothes on. There was silence. She expected him to command her, but the silence continued. She gripped the door handle and pushed it down, about to leave. Still, he said nothing. There was no logic, but he didn’t need give her a direct order. Sam’s grip on the handle relaxed and she backed away from the door. OK, her mind was saying, but what now? She covered her breasts with her right arm, held the nightie to her crotch and swallowed hard before she had the guts to turn and face him.

He smiled and waited.

Sam had reached the age when she was shyly aware of her body. She could never show it to her parents now she was no longer a child, but somehow, this was different. She was still desperately embarrassed at being caught without a stitch on, however the desire to expose herself to Uncle Ross was stronger. She couldn’t figure why she wanted to do so, but even the prospect made her shiver with excitement. Part of her hesitation was how he would react to her breasts. They had only recently sprouted and were so small. They were tiny with, by contrast, large, puffy areola and pointy nipples. She had no way of knowing if that was normal. Even her girlfriends had kept theirs hidden from one another.

Three steps toward the bed before slowly lowered her arms, hesitant, but knowing she wanted him to see her breasts.

He smiled, a broad smile of approval and she felt her tummy tremble.

His smile gave her confidence, plus this was so exciting, showing herself to him. She couldn’t believe the thrill that coursed through her as he studied her body. Now, a little more comfortable, a tad braver, the girl shuffled closer, both hands covering her most private parts, screwing up the nightie as the tension heightened. Sam nibbled on her lower lip, trying to build up the courage to move her hand. Slowly, she pulled her right hand away, the other pushing the garment tight against her body as a defense.

Ross held out his hand, never taking his gaze from her breasts. ‘Sam, give me your nightie.’

She stood still, wallowing in the sound of his voice saying her name. ‘Sam’ had never sounded so good. The young innocent stared at his out stretched hand for half a minute before making her decision. Sam took another step and handed him the nightie. He placed it on the duvet in front of him and opened it out, smoothing the edges down. He gazed into Sam’s eyes and lifted the front hem. He raised it, bent his head forward and looked inside the nightie. He was grinning as he returned his gaze to her naked breasts. There was something about the way he’d lifted the hem that send a thrill down to her kitty, but when he slid his other hand up inside the nightie Sam’s knees began to quake. She felt a trickle of moisture running down her inner thigh. She blushed and covered herself again. Had she peed herself? Surely not.

Ross was now staring at her hand, the one shielding her modesty.

He didn’t need to ask and pee or not, she submitted herself to his gaze and lowered her hand. Now, she was completely naked and he was free to study her young body. He pulled the duvet up and to the side, leaving a space for her to sit. As she sat on the edge of the bed, he continued to pull at the duvet until it slid to the floor. He was wearing maroon pajamas, the jacket partly unbuttoned so she could see the hairs on his chest.

She looked down at her lap. Sitting, she wasn’t completely naked and she relaxed a little, though still hungry to show her kitty to him. But how could she, now she was seated on the edge of the bed?

She pondered the question while she studied his pajamas. Could she detect a slight bulge? If so, what was it? None of her close friends nor she had younger brothers who may have been persuaded to show their secret parts, plus attending a private girl’s school was the worst place to learn about boys. None of them had seen a penis. Amy Wilson, who was not one of her friends, boasted she’d seen one and even drew it, but Sam and her friends were doubtful. The drawing looked like the Tower of Pisa, nothing exciting.