The Ole Swimming Hole

This is, I think, a deliciously sweet story. Here are the ingredients. A baking hot summer day. A party of 18 year old school boys, walking in the woods. A secluded rock pool and - boys are boys - the fellas strip off all their gear and plunge in. Totally nude. This is the mid-50s and it's the age of innocence - the ole swimming hole in a woodland setting in the middle of summer holidays. But within minutes, right on cue - wouldn't you know it - a party of a dozen uniformed girl scouts, 18-year olds, suddenly appear from the forest with their leader, a buxom, somewhat severe, 40s-something Melissa Haines.

Girls and their leader all completely uniformed, even down to berets, boys all naked as the day that they were born. Fasten your seat belts, friends. And look the other way if buff-naked male humiliation offends you because this is classic, old-time CFNM. And it's a true story - from a more bashful age - when nudity could still shock, and embarrass to the core.

Here we go...

Under her senior scout leader's beret Melissa's beady eyes took in the scene. Four boys - wet torsos rising from murky water, hair plastered flat - stood immobilized, slack- jawed. They wore looks of astonishment, of fear. She took in the jumble of white T-shirts, jeans, Y-fronted underpants and sand shoes strewn on the grass. Then the delicious fact clicked : beneath the water lapping at their navels these boys were buck-naked.

Under the blouse of her khaki uniform her ample middle-age breast heaved. She licked her lips.

"Girls, I think we've caught these lads swimming in the nude," she nearly panted. And at the words "lads" and "nude" she felt a spasm of excitement around her private parts.

There was a collective intake of breath from the girls.

In the pool the boys remained frozen. Adding to the original expressions of surprise and fear looks of sheer guilt crept over their faces. They were in real trouble.

"So," said Melissa. "Four boys caught in their birthday suits, eh?" A couple of the captives half nodded.

Drawn up in the circle a dozen girls were confronting the possibilities - educational, erotic. To encounter a party of boys out here was exciting enough, but in the raw! Nude! While they were all so tidily dressed in brown, pleated uniforms. With logos and official scarfs. Even in berets with medals.

Brazen Tammy Smith gave a low, lubricious wolf whistle.

The males felt hunted. They crouched lower.

Worse, their anonymity was being stripped from them.

Flaxen-haired, freckle-faced, Alice Jones gushed, "Look, there's Karen Smilie's brother. Wait till I let her know! Her brother caught in the nude!"

Gerry Smilie - short, blond - sunk up to his nipples. He went scarlet. My sister's friends!

Trilled another guide, "There's Steve Speight! He's in the year ahead of me. Wait till all the girls at school hear!" Gangling, basket-ball champ Steve felt a queer weak feeling deep in his tummy. He was caught nude...by clothed girls. Something he had always...dreaded? Desired? Certainly fantasised about. Fantasy was one thing. Now it was happening in real life. He lowered his head to the water level and blew bubbles. The urgent panic he felt, the excruciating embarrassment, was having a strange effect. Maddeningly, between his legs, his dick, what everyone called his donkey dick, was starting to stiffen.

Sally Pullen, pretty brunette with dark daring eyes, glowed with pleasure. For years she and her sisters had been mocked by Alan Larsens, two years her senior. The neighborhood smartalec, full of taunts. Always teasing her. A classic bully. Now his vain, good-looking head, with Elvis hairdo - she had to admit he was very good looking - was just put of the water...as he crouched clothes-free. She couldn't believe it: under the water he had nothing on!

Well, she never! Alan Larsens. Caught without a stitch. All his clothes at her feet. In her power! Secure in her guide's uniform, she glared triumphantly. Their eyes locked. SHEEET, he thought. Her - of all girls.

The four boys were overcome by hopelessness. A thousand butterflies in each stomach. Also a mysterious urgent pressure like they'd had as kids when they had full bladders and had to hold it back. That sort of panic, right down to the penis. Especially Steve's, now at full length.

Gloria Jenkins, a pudgy girl with glasses, raked the water surface with greedy - no ravenous - eyes. Her only glimpses of male nudity had been the marble statues of Greek gods and Michelangelo's David reproduced in art textbooks. How she had admired the chest, thighs and muscular bottoms - but always feasting her gaze on those delicately shaped tubes of flesh in front of those little sacks. So delicate and decorative. Now she would see "the real thing." She felt a flutter.

Milly Smithers had never seen a naked male. But she thought now, as she did under the blankets each night, of the young man walking along the beach promenade last summer. He was very athletic, with a flat stomach. In his wet, clinging swim suit, there had been a big outline of something stretching. Something had been going on down there, she had thought. Her friends had seen it too with eyes as wide as saucers. Now with a bit of luck the mystery would be revealed.

Melissa was declaring, "Well, boys, it's time to teach you a lesson you will never forget. Heaven help us if girls can't go for a hike without running into boys naked as jays."

Girls giggled.

"We'll have you out of there one at a time and give you a talking-to. Let's start with..."

Her finger sketched the air and settled on...

"...you! Red hair!"

Rod Kelly. His over-large Adams apple bobbed in and out with terror.

Out of the water? With nothing on? Not a stitch? In front of all these girls his age?

He knew his privates were somewhat unusual. The others had fears too. Steve was terrified of girls seeing his donkey appendage. Gerry knew his dick was just average enough to have these girls laugh and tell his sister! And Alan Larsens just did not want that Sally Pullen to see him! He had the littlest dick of all and she was there, staring at him, just itching to feast her eyes on its dainty proportions. But Rod had even bigger fears on this front. He thought his genitals - cock and balls and the color of his pubic hair - were, well, the most unusual. They'd be voted the funniest.

His Adam's Apple went madly to work.

"If you're not out of there quick smart," said Melissa. "We're going back to town - and taking all your gear with us. Explain that to Mom tonight!"

With that she scooped up a pair of shorts and, hooting, the girls follows her example, scrambling for clothes and holding them aloft like trophies of war. Tammy held a pair of BVDs. "I wonder who belongs to these?" she squealed. .

Rod turned to his buddies and said,"I think we're trapped."

Alan Larsen was lost in his own terrors. Complacent in her uniform, Sally Pullen was staring hard at him, now wearing a cold, fixed smile. She had her enemy where she wanted him.

"Aw, Miss," complained Rod. "It's not right."

His voice was breaking with terror.

"It's not fair. Some of them...some of them...know us!"

It was a last throw of the dice.

"Know you? Well, I don't think they're objecting. Are you girls?"

There was a chorus of NOOOS!

"Out of the water and up here now!"

Slowly he rose from his crouch. His skinny, red-freckled trunk emerged from the water, then a slightly protuberant boy's tummy. There was a drawn-out delay. The expectations of a dozen keen girls tightened.

Then his navel...and finally, thrillingly, red - violently red - pubic curls.

And after another breathless delay, another nervous hesitation, dangling and dripping from his groin, a somewhat long, very slender penis, decidedly uncut - its head completely concealed by a tapering two-inch overhang of white foreskin twirling to a narrow opening. Behind the attenuated prick : a freakishly low-hanging scrotal sack with heavy rocks seeming to drag them down, one markedly lower than the other. Easy to understand why he didn't want to show off his package.

Their eyes were standing out on stalks as they goggled at the blushing, shuffling boy's privates - no longer private, of course, but revealed for public display. Like a swan's neck, thought Gloria. Or a skinny elephant's trunk, not like the neat little things on her Greek statues or the splendid David in Florence. And it hangs half way to his knees. Not a few of the young virgins wondered how something that terrifyingly long could "fit in." But it was very narrow, comically narrow.

To Milly all of a sudden some dirty playground talk made sense : "balls." So that's what it means, she thought, as her eyes devoured the boy's big marbles in the loose, capacious, hairless bag. She had never grasped it before now.

Under their relentless gaze Rod slightly staggered with shame, moved one arm across his torso, a shy boy's gesture. His eyes were cast down. "Please Miss, can I have my clothes?" He raised his head and gestured at underpants being held by one girl, a shirt by another and pants by a third.

Melissa pondered. The girls feasted their eyes.

"No clothes yet," decreed the boss.

A dozen girls beamed, jostled one another to get a better look. And a dozen panties were getting distinctly wet. The wettest may have been those of pale, thin, bespectacled Emily Wainwright, standing with a boy's underpants. She never went swimming, never made a school formal, never expected to go out with a boy. But from the first glimpse of those boys' torsos and that phrase "birthday suits" - what a thrilling idea that phrase conveyed - her hormones had been activated.

She devoured Rod's clothless state, his shame. His shame was making her more excited. She felt very interested in the skinny red-head with the nervously bobbing lump in his throat and the curious equipment dangling from his groin. But loved the notion he was being "shamed" in front of her. What, she wondered, did it feel like?

Meanwhile Melissa was giving Rod an order. "Stand there, hands by your sides. And look at us - don't hang your head like that!"

Each girl competed to catch his gaze. And it was Emily who won, his woeful eyes settling on her's behind her glasses. Perhaps because her plain features made her less threatening . Oh my God, she thought, a boy of my own. And with a new found confidence, she looked right back at him, a totally naked youth. I'll help "shame" the skinny red-head. Her imagination was racing, her panties dripping.

Melissa swung back to the pool and pointed to Gerry Smilie. "You next!"

The short boy with the blond hair and cute snub nose hesitated. His stomach turned over. But he slowly drew himself up. Moving almost imperceptibly towards the bank he revealed a gymnast's torso all the way to the navel and then, as he continued to move through the water, his tan gave way to a band of pure white...and a tantalizing glimpse of pubic bush, black not blond, and hanging from it a regulation-size, very white sausage...in front of a compact little sack, hardly noticeable. He was circumcised, which gave his ringside audience an immediate point of comparison with Rod. Then, when they had finished that, they could direct their wide-as-saucer eyes to the very different scrotums.

Gerry was standing next to his buddy, and being subject to the same inquisitional stares. He was very, very red. His humiliation was perfect.

But it got worse.

Said freckle-face Alice Jones,"Take a real good look, girls. His sister is going to want to know all about this! She's never seen him naked. I asked her!" Like Emily she was being excited by the fact a boy was not only very interesting to look at but being shamed to the core.

Her comment set off guffaws and even Melissa was forced to smile. Gerry's knees started to wobble with terror. He dreaded his sister knowing any part of this.

Melissa now swung back to checking out Steve and Alan. Her finger hovered and settled on...the gangly basketball player with the rigid donkey dick : Steve, who groaned as his eyes swam with terror.

"You!"

He had no alternative.

He raised his tall athletic body from the water.

Eager girls took in his defined pectoral muscles and the light dusting of chestnut hair in the middle of his chest - the others had none - and there was a hint of fur running like a fuse down to...

Then, suddenly, there it was, rearing from the water : a whopper of a hard-on, a massive slab of rock-hard flesh jamming its mauve-tinted head skyward. There was a collective sigh of incredulity.

"Oh...my...God," intoned Tammy, speaking for all of them.

Then it was completely out of the water - a snow-white bludgeon, almost vertical, almost slap bang against his stomach...and extending above his navel...and every female is directing it a fierce laser stare.

Steve bolted.

He ran out of the pool and away from the senior scouts . In profile they see his mammoth cylindrical prick bouncing like a brass drum pedal against his abdomen as he heads for a clump of bushes and a single tree across a small swade.

Melissa's spinsterish eyes bulge as she thinks,"What a whopper!" Her vagina releases more molten lubricant as the male striptease she has unleashed takes its most interesting turn yet. Her pants are very, very wet.

Steve's head and upper chest are visible from the clump of vegetation. He stares back at them. Melissa decides to go over and reason with the unhappy agitated male. "Girls," she says. "He's just bashful. I need to talk to the poor boy." She takes wide-hipped strides across the grass .

Seeing him above the bush she thinks of the Garden of Eden: a nude male in the shrubbery. But she's out of earshot of her girls and she adopts her most maternal tone.

"Now sonny, no need to be this bashful. This will be all over soon. Your friends are standing there and you only have to do the same. Apologize and we'll let you go home."

Steve is blushing and stammering.

"I...er...er...can't...can't...make it..make it...make it...go..."

"I know. You have an erection. And you can't make it subside. Is that what's making you so embarrassed in front of the girls?"

"Yyyyes..."And he looks close to tears.

"Well,"said Melissa. "I'm going to help. I'm going to come round your side and I'm going to help you get rid of that stubborn erection. You know..." she added, moving through the undergrowth to face him "...I was once a nursing sister so I know just how to take care of this embarrassment."

She looks at him, his tall, lean athlete's body half crouching, to shield himself. Very deliberately she takes his arms one at a time and shifts them to his sides. His protuberance is jutting skyward. She confirms it extends higher than his navel.

It is circumcised and its colossal shaft is white as a lily. It seems to have as many veins as a weightlifter's delts pumped up after a heavy workout. In fact the elaborate network of blue lines could be a map of some city's subway. The underside is dominated by an industrial scale artery pulsing skyward. As for the purple-tinted head it has a massivey defined coronal edge, an upturned border that makes her think of a pagoda roof. It is wider than the shaft, a vast, spongy prize-winning mushroom that has been jammed on his stem. The phallic eye looks as capacious as...Melissa thinks, a small vagina.

It seems pretty certain, thought Melissa, it would never achieve entry. Maybe it only has display value, like a seventeenth century longarm in an antique firearm collection.

Looking him in the eye she very quietly asks, "Now tell me, is it the idea of being naked in front of girls that makes you so excited ...down there?"

Eyes closed and sweat breaking on his brows, he nods.

"You seem to be a nice young man. What do you think your mother would say if she knew you get dirty thrills from being nude..." And here she managed to convey a tone more sad than angry "... thrills from being undressed, around women and girls? Because that's the problem you seem to be having. Is that right?"

Eyes clenched, he nodded again.

She shook her head. "You may grow up to be one of those exhibitionists. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

He was closer to tears than ever.

"I can't believe it," she persisted. "That a fine young fella like you, obviously an athlete, would get some some...some dirty pleasure displaying himself in front of females, all of them fully dressed. And give himself an erection..."

She looked down.

"Still, we can't leave it like that can we?" And to his shock she placed her left hand gently on his ass. Zap! Her feminine touch sent a thrill right through him. Made his cock even more rigid. In her right hand she took the great bulbous end of his penis . Suddenly she is rubbing Steve's corona round and round - the border of the pagoda roof on the top of his prick - the incredibly sensitive tip, and driving him to clench his eyes shut... and even moan shyly. Some more gentle twisting and stroking follows but getting firmer, and he is gasping. A breathless sound struggled up from his throat. Without warning she changes gear and her hand is moving up and down the whole awesome shaft though it is too thick for her to enclose. One really firm movement... then another...and a third...and another few...and Steve erupts. Whoosh! A powerful pearlescent stream flies in an arc to splash on the bark of the tree.

Melissa keeps milking and another cannonade follows to fall short of the tree and splatter on the ground, followed by a second before his orgasm devolves into dribbled sperm foaming out from his slit. He feels weak in the legs. Then she's patting his ass cheeks and telling him he's a good boy and in a minute he'll be ready to go and join his friends.

Yes, his friends. Red-headed Rod is being teased mercilessly about the shape of his uncut penis. Tammy is saying it looks like a monk's hood. Gymnast Gerry is being teased about what his sister will say when she hears all about today's events.

When a deflated Steve stalks shyly out from his bush retreat, picking his way with bare feet over the stones and twigs, the last of the tell-tale droplets have gone and his penis, while still elongated, is pointing at the ground. He has their attention. All of it, as he arrives to stand in line with his three hang-dog, bare-as-a-board buddies.

But Melissa is out of sight, still behind the bush where she brought Steve to his mighty climax. Her fingers are gluey with Steve's fluid and she gluttonously sucks them one by one. Fine, she thinks, a youthful, sour taste, a salty tang. Then she stands at the tree and with her forefinger scoops up the deposit plastered on the bark. She places it on her tongue, savors it and then swallows. Gives me the energy I need for what lies ahead.

One final exploration. Certain she is out of sight, she hoists her skirt and lowers her panties to place a finger in her pubic zone. Jeepers, she thinks, I'm wet as wet! Then it's back to business.

Alan Larsens is shivering in the water. Soon all attention is on this most handsome of the boys. Especially that of Sally Pullen who is very, very focused on her childhood tormentor. The brunette with the flashing dark eyes has spent the last half hour formulating an exquisite humiliation for the stark naked boy. She focuses a cold, hard smile on him as Melissa says, "Right, last one.You, out!"

He looked despairingly up at the phalanx of fully-dressed females, their appetites sharpened by the displays they had already witnessed.

And so it happened. First, the smooth well proportioned torso. Sally relished the small pink nipples, harbingers of intimate body parts to come. Then the navel and the end of the tan line and the first tantalizing glimpse of white skin. Then, quickly following, the thrilling timberline of glossy black pubic curls and then