Chapter 2

Nan and I spent the next 30 minutes or so with our faces close together in the space under the floor of the hall. We kissed a little, sure, stroked each other's faces, looked into each other's eyes, but mostly just talked.

I remember dragging the back of my hand down her chest, it illicited a little embarrassed smile.

We didn't do much but it was still a very erotic moment. I think we were both charged with desire but uncertain how to proceed.

So we talked about our hopes, feelings, about others in the group, music, I even talked about motorcycles. She listened, and more remarkably for me, I listen to her.

I loved her voice, not just her relatively exotic Canadian accent, but its timbre and expressive quality.

She used her hands a lot to describe things and her eyes would flash when she was excited about something.

She told me I was too skinny, but I had a cute 'butt.' That slang term had not become common usage in NZ then. I told her she had a 'bum' to die for, at which she laughingly told me that bum had an altogether different meaning in Canada.

I normally get a little claustrophobic in confined spaces but that night I didn't feel the least bit uneasy. Occasionally I'd get a little whiff of her shampoo, strawberry.

Time seemed to pass quickly and after a while we could hear people calling, far off. Nan took a final drag of her cigarette and said,

"Shit, look at the time, its past 'lights out'."

She scrambled out of the crawl space and whispered for me to wait awhile before emerging myself.

I wriggled out, suddenly aware of how close the little space was, and crept to the corner of the hall to check if the coast was clear.

I could hear the banging of doors and far off voices. I waited until the commotion died down before creeping back to the van.

Later, in my improvised bed, I could hear footsteps. Upon observation I could see someone walking around with a torch. I hoped that Nan hadn't got into any trouble.

The next day was free, that is, there were no engagements. The bus was going to take most of the camp sightseeing but this was a purely voluntary activity. For those wishing to stay behind, a leader was going to organise some games and other activities.

I was grateful Nan elected to remain at camp. I caught up with her after breakfast and suggested we do a little sightseeing of our own.

"But where will we go?" she asked.

"I hear there's some great coastline," I said, " we could check it out, maybe have a picnic."

I could see she was conflicted. She didn't think the leaders would approve and any 'bad conduct' would be reported to her parents.

However one thing I came to learn about Nan was that she had a taste for conspiracy and was always good for a dare. We therefore laid our plans.

The camp was laid out on the site of an ancient Maori 'pa, ' or fortified village called 'Maunga Tapu, ' or Sacred Mountain. It was on a promontory of a bay surrounded on three sides by water.

Although it was called a 'mountain, ' it was hardly higher than a dozen metres. The old Maoris had levelled the ground and tipped the spoil down the sides to form a steep bank. 200 years ago the bank would have been topped with a pallisade and ditch and would have been virtually impregnable from the sea.

Nowadays, the bank was a grass slope dropping to a narrow gravel road that lay between the bank and the water.

Although the camp was surrounded by a chain-link fence, a gate gave access to a small beach on the seaward side.

I announced to the leaders that I was going for a drive into town about mid-morning. I hopped in the Beagle and drove out of the gate going a fair way down the road. I then double-backed and turned into the little gravel road and parked.

A softball game was in progress with everyone, who hadn't gone sightseeing, participating. Nan simply announced she was going for a walk around the coast and left via the beach gate.

Within ten minutes Nan appeared running along the gravel road and jumped into the van. Fortunately there was enough of a grade for me to roll the van towards the main road without using the engine again.

As I started the engine and headed off, Nan looked back towards the camp laughing. Her expression was one of mischievous glee, like some kid who'd just knocked on someone's door and run off.

"Where are we going, where are we going?" she repeated, excitedly.

Her laughter was infectious, but I had to calm her as she bounced around in the passenger's seat.

"Hey! put your seatbelt on, we can't afford to get pulled over!" I cautioned.

I suggested we first go into town and grab some picnic food, then find a nice spot by a beach. The coast around here was rocky with treacherous tidal rips so swimming wasn't an option.

After getting the food, she paid, we eventually found a hill called Berrin's Kop, named after some battle in the Boer War. It had great views of the coast and the surrounding countryside. It was also almost deserted.

The weather was quite warm and we had our picnic and chatted in the sunshine. We later went for a walk, hand in hand, and sat on the seaward side of a little knoll.

The grass was about a metre high and gave us perfect privacy. The light breeze fluttered our clothing and brushed whispers of hair across our faces.

It was while I was brushing an errant lock from her face that I found her smiling in that anticipatory way. Half embarrassed, half expectant, we moved together and kissed.

She hummed, I hummed, and we moved in for another, longer one. We fell to the grass, our mouths moving together, that strawberry shampoo scent filling my senses. I could feel the little bumps of her breasts pressing against my chest.

Her free hand roamed down my back and came to rest on my bottom. Her kissing became fiercer, I felt her hot breath on my cheek.

"Is that any way for a good Christian girl to behave?" I teased.

"Why?" she asked me, disingenuously, "are we supposed to be boring?"

"Pick a date that will make a good mate," I recalled one of the many slogans on the hall wall at camp.

"So how are we suppose to know?" she answered, smiling.

I shrugged.

"So do I pass?" I asked her.

"Um... you kiss well," she replied, making an assessment, "nice butt, nice face... but with sad eyes... like a lost little puppy. You're skinny, I like that. Caring... talented... and a little shy."

"Shy? Me?" I protested.

"Yes, you almost pee'ed yourself when you asked me out."

"Only because I thought you might say no."

"Was it that important?" she said, suddenly serious, "aww look! You're blushing!" she resumed giggling.

"Nancy, you're a lovesong," I blurted out without thinking.

She looked at me wide-eyed with surprise. I felt a twinge of panic, 'what a dumb thing to say, ' I thought.

"That's so sweet," Nan replied softly, "do you really think of me like that?"

Well I'd said it, so it was useless to recant, so I nodded slowly.

"I... I don't know what to say..."

"Don't say anything," I mumbled and kissed her again.

We rolled around in the grass till she was on top. I got to cup the beautiful cheeks of her bottom, exploring the contours of her tight-fitting Levis.

She gyrated her pelvis against me, starting a warm and stiffening feeling in my jeans. I stroked her sides with my hands, my thumbs pressing against the swells of her little breasts.

My mouth was dry and my breath was quickening with arousal.

"It's getting cold," I panted, "do you want to sit in the van?"

I meant the BACK of the van of course and the meaning was obvious to her.

"I'm not cold," smiling, she teased me again.

"Well?"

"There you go, all shy again," she giggled, "I'm not going to have sex with you, ok?"

"I didn't mean..."

"It's alright," she said, "I'm just setting the ground rules, ok?"

I nodded.

"It's a little too soon, ok?"

I nodded, again.

"Are you disappointed?" she asked.

"No... not at all," I croaked a reply.

"Liar! But I don't mind making out... if you want?"

I wanted, I nodded, for a third time.

In the van we were all over each other like a rash. After a while I lifted her top up to her neck, then pushed up her bra to expose her breasts. I spent a long time kneading and sucking her little cones while she cooed and pushed her hands up inside my shirt.

Nan gyrated her crotch against mine sending me to new heights of lust. While brushing her tits down my chest, she ran her hands all around my torso, carefully avoiding my uncomfortable erection.

She gradually worked her way down my chest, kissing every inch of my skin. In phoney surprise she noticed my straining jeans and gave me a little rub.