Chapter 5

I felt marvelous when the sun came up and lit the room. I was naked and in bed with a boy. I'd had sex with him, and in the last 24 hours I'd had sex with at least six more. Quite an accomplishment for the nervous little virgin of Saturday morning.

There were others stirring around us. In my fantasizing of my first sexual experience I hadn't considered waking up in a room with three other couples, all of them naked. But that was the case, though nobody seemed to pay it much of any mind as we queued up for the bathroom and then crawled back into bed. I'd awakened with Eric's stiff dick in my hand, and I didn't want to let it go to waste.

It was soon evident that he had the same idea. He was quite manly, and from the noises around us others had decided to wake up the same way. We were all dozing contentedly when Grandma came through, announcing breakfast. I looked around and learned another lesson about sex parties: everyone was getting dressed.

Well, partly dressed. I don't think anyone put on a bra. It was pretty much shorts and tops. A couple of the girls wore sweat pants, more or less whatever was handy and warm, because it was a little cool outside.

After breakfast we got to doing 'stuff'. Mostly it was goofing around around the water. A few kids went swimming, but most of us lay out to catch some rays. I didn't, redheads have to be careful with our skin. We burn far faster than most others, and so we cultivate the 'pale' look while we live in sunscreen. I'd already made a start, and had tan lines, though I noticed that most girls were stripping down so that wouldn't be a problem.

The day began to turn cloudy, and so we all went inside, well, except for a few boys who were water skiing. The weather reports spoke of a line of rain headed our way. That might put a "damper" on some of the fun. A couple of boys proposed doing it outside anyway, sort of like in some movie where the couple had made love in the pouring rain.

"You guys have it lucky," one girl said. "You'll only get rain on your backs. We'll get it in our faces."

"That's not all you'll get in your face," a boy replied.

"Nah-nah, promises, promises."

"Want me to prove it?"

"After lunch."

He nodded. No sex until after lunch was cleaned up and put away was the rule, and he'd live by it.

Some of the kids went off to church with their parents. I wondered how the preacher would react if he knew that these modest looking families had been naked and having wild sex the night before. That was supposed to be wrong, though I'd been all through the Bible and couldn't find where you weren't supposed to. After all, I wasn't married. And was it 'coveting' another when you actually just went ahead and did it? I'm sure there'd been swingers back in Biblical times, but they'd probably kept it all hushed up, just like now.

I mentioned that to Eric, and he grinned. "Wouldn't you love to sit in on confession at a Catholic church. "Forgive me Father, for I have had sex with a half-dozen boys.""

"I think that requires more than saying "Hail Mary" a dozen times."

"Be interesting to see the priest's face."

"We never will, but I know what you mean."

The morning dragged, and I began to feel a little self-conscious about being topless so I could tan. It wasn't being bigger or smaller than some of the other girls, it was that they would look at my boobs, sometimes frowning. I decided, in that practical redheaded way I had, that it was time for some girl talk.

"All the girls over here," I called, walking over to a corner. "Guys, this is private."

"Oh yeah?" one guy called. "What are you going to talk about?"

"The proper moisturizer to use under your breasts so you don't get any creases."

Talk of make-up, or even the threat of it, was guaranteed to turn every boy off. He fell silent, and a group of curious girls began gathering in the corner around me.

"Are we really going to talk moisturizer?" one girl asked.

"Actually," I replied, "I was going to talk 'competition'. We're all competitive little bitches, we all know that." There was a nervous chuckled at that. "And I want to know why we're competing? To see who gets laid the most? To get nailed by certain boys when just about everyone is available?"

"Amber's right," another girl said. "This isn't like at school where you win by scoring a date with the best-looking guy."

"Maybe we're competing to see who can get it from the best hung stud," a blonde girl asked.

"Yeah, but guys come and go," another replied, and then giggled. "Er, that didn't exactly come out the way I wanted, but, well, it's true."

"They move on to the next girl, or we move on to the next guy." I looked around the group as if challenging them. "So how about we shelve the competitiveness for a few hours. Most of us will be back at school tomorrow, and there's plenty of time to do it there. Plus, we'll have scored in a way that the empty-headed little tramps would never believe."

Everyone laughed. Nobody could talk about this weekend, but those little gossips who got their nose out of joint if your skirt was an inch shorter than theirs, or they thought you were looking at some guy 'wrong' would not be able to handle what we'd been doing.

"And for the record," I added, shaking my boobs back and forth, "I did not see a doctor to get these. I grew them myself."

"She did," Krys said. "I'm her sister, I was there, and I saw her from when she first began developing. That's all her."

The two girls who clearly had bought their boobs from a doctor blushed, but nobody really looked at them. Instead, after a pause, one of the girls asked a question about moisturizer. She'd grown a cup size in the last year and was afraid she'd get wrinkles from how big she was getting. Moisturizer might keep that from happening.

That led to another question, this one about soreness 'down there', and what to do about it. Comments were made, opinions voiced, and a couple of girls went to get things from their overnight cases. The morning ended with a dozen girls sharing openly and honestly. Mother was right: nudity removed a lot of barriers.

Lunch came and went, the families returned from church, we all got naked, and busy. The boys were all recovered from their exertions of the night before, and I think the older men were, too. Certainly the giggles and cries from upstairs suggested that. Downstairs it was more of the same, with eager girls, eager boys, quite a lot of moaning, sighing, giggling, and the like. Eric and I circulated and had our share of the fun.

I got an up close look at a boy coming. He did it between my breasts, which was kind of exciting, and certainly felt different. Sort of his hardness meets my softness. After a bit I could tell he was really getting into ht, and the head of his dick got all dark and shiny. Then he groaned, and his spurts came out, one soft jet of white after another landing on my chest.

I was really turned on by this, and he went down on me. That really rocked, and after a very intense climax I had to pull away. That was only for a few seconds, though. He'd gotten it up again, and now he plunged right in and pushed me over the top with a dozen or so very clever strokes.

There was more like that, and before the afternoon ended I decided that I could do this a lot. One on one with Eric was good and satisfying, but there was also a lot of fun in doing it with a guy with different tastes and feelings, and who acted in different ways.

About 5:30 or so everyone was pretty tired. There was more dozing than action, and from the sounds, that was the rule upstairs, too. Parents came downstairs looking for their kids. This led to a steady line of people headed for the showers to clean up.

Eric's folks came looking for him, and I learned that he had a sister Rick's age who had been around, but I hadn't really noticed. They showered and dressed, and Eric and I made a date of sorts to see each other at lunch the next day.

"You like him," Rick said from behind me as I watched Eric and his family leave.

"Yeah, I think I do."

"He's an okay guy."

That was a stamp of approval. Rick and I had worked out a grudging alliance, far closer than he and Krys. I would tell him the scoop on girls he was interested in, and he'd return the favor on guys.

"Are you interested in his sister?"

He shook his head. "She's okay, but no, not my type. We dated once, and that was enough for both of us."

"That happens. Doesn't stop her from being a bed partner, though."

He chuckled. "Yeah, we did it. She's pretty good there."

I turned and headed back downstairs. I hadn't bothered to dress just yet, and neither had he. I was aware of this naked male only a couple of feet away, a guy who was forever off-limits. I'd seen him in action a couple of times since Saturday morning, and now could appreciate him as a male, not just a guy-thing I was related to. I'd always wonder about his dick, it was larger than I'd thought, certainly enough to satisfy any girl who wanted some. And from the way the girls he'd been with acted, he'd known what to do with it, too.

"It's going to be unusual seeing them at school."

He began collecting his clothes. "Yeah, that's always a bit of a shock. And you can't act there like you do here."

"You mean no walking up and feeling a guy out?"

"Or grabbing a girl's boobs to fondle them."

"Be interesting if that happened."

"And we'd all be thrown in jail as sexual perverts."

I chuckled. "I think this weekend would get us labeled as such."

"Which is why we don't talk about it."

"Have you dated any girls you met at a party like this?"

He nodded. "The rule, though, is that we don't do it except at parties. It keeps the wagging tongues quiet."

That was an important thing to remember. Reputation was everything. I had one, a well-developed redhead who was still chaste, and I was determined to keep things that way.

In one way I had it easy. Girls with large bosoms get so used to guys hitting on them that in a lot of cases we learn to push guys away. We learn this long before other girls our age, in large part because boys react to the visual cues our boobs send, and home in on us first. Now some girls start sleeping with the boys, but the rest of us soon get a lot pickier. When you can have any boy by just crooking your finger, why pick someone just because they showed an interest? Of course sometimes this results in the girl getting into her 20s before she settles down with one guy, but that's sort of a leftover bit of baggage from earlier.

I think some people want young girls kept naïve and clueless so they'll fall for any old line. That may have worked in earlier years, I don't know. It doesn't work so much these days because we compare notes. If a boy really wanted to hear what girls think, he would find a way to listen in to the girls restroom or locker room after gym. We talk, we share, and boys wouldn't like some of our opinions.

We began helping clean up and put away. A lot of people had helped on this before leaving, so there wasn't that much to do. Still, mattresses had to be rinsed off and deflated, tables stacked in the shed, and so on. And the wash. There was a lot of wash. Every sheet showed evidence of the weekend's passions. I candidly wondered how much come had been spilled over the previous two days. It was probably some staggering amount. At the very least it could probably fill a small bucket.

It was late by the time we finished washing, drying, briefly ironing, and folding the sheets and pillows. Grandma pronounced herself satisfied with the progress. We traded hugs and kisses, packed up our few clothes, and headed home.

"Tired?" Mom asked as we pulled out.

"Some," I admitted. I looked at Krys, who was huddled in the corner. "How about you?"

"I'll do."

"You should try taking part. It might relax you."

"I'm not a slut like you."

"No!" Mother slapped her hand on the back of the seat. "No more of that. That's a loaded word, and given where we were, nobody was a slut. Understand?" Her eyes were practically on fire, and Krys jerked back as if slapped. "Apologize."

After a swallow, Krys sort of forced a smile. "I'm sorry I called you that, Amber. I was wrong."

"It's forgotten," I said, though I carefully didn't say whether the insult or the apology was forgotten. At least my weekend had been spent with guys, not inanimate pieces of plastic that buzzed. Of course maybe Krys was afraid of the emotional involvement. I could see what Mom meant about being mature enough for this sort of thing. You could have all sorts of problems if you weren't.

It did seem strange to go through the usual Sunday night routine. There weren't any stiff dicks around to take my mind off of homework, and so reluctantly I got to it. I did get a laugh at one of the problems I read from an earlier textbook, back when I was learning multiplication and division: how many times does 6 go into 216: answer, until '6' couldn't get it up any longer. That wasn't the answer the book was looking for, but in my expanded world, that was the first thing that crossed my mind.

I had an essay to write, and I toyed with the idea of writing a new one: "How I Spent My Weekend", or "How many boys can you ball in one afternoon". I couldn't write it, of course, but I could always fantasize about it. Some things you do have to keep private.

For the first time in a long time I didn't rub myself to sleep on Sunday night. Part of it was that I felt a little sore down there, and part of it was that any lingering arousal I'd had had long since been taken care of. Eric and I had made time for just the two of us at the end of the party. He certainly knew how to push all of my buttons, and I his. He lasted and lasted, and I kept erupting under him. He finally let down, the last contribution to our passion his body would make for a few days, or maybe even a week. Me? Aside from my multiple climaxes, I'd enjoyed that he was hard and stimulating the one place on my body designed for him. I felt very female when he did that.

I drifted to sleep with thoughts of Eric's body foremost in my mind. I wish it was beside me, not so much for the sex, but because I liked feeling it there.