I'll Show You Mine, If.....

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Being very brave.

She slid her finger under his waistband, and lifted it, only about an inch or so, to peer down into them, expecting him to object and to stop her, but he didn’t. She blew down into that opening, lifting it a little more.

He was going to let her do this?

The first thing she noticed was dark hair. She knew he had hair down there, but hadn’t known that he had so much of it.

He hadn’t stopped her, so she opened it even more, lifting it higher.

She paused.

She saw something else that had been trapped there, more to the side, and lying along his belly at the side, held there by his underwear. She wasn’t sure what she was seeing, but it had to be… could it be? Yes, it could be, and it was.

She held her breath.

It was ‘him’. That boy-part of his. But he wasn’t like a boy there at all. Not from what she thought she knew.

It was his… ‘thing’. She was looking at the long pale shaft of it. It looked big around, and long, and the bulbous top of it, was rounded, pink to purple, and was also obvious.

Why wasn’t he stopping her?

She shouldn’t be seeing that, up here, this high, surely? She’d seen her much older brothers there, many times as they’d taken her into the shower with them, but that had stopped when she’d got to about five-years old, and as they’d grown older and more protective of themselves. He would be physically like them, of course. But he wasn’t like them at all, from what she’d remembered. They’d not been like this. Not this big!

She was breathless.

Surely not!

That part could not be so far up here. He would have to be aroused to be like that. She’d never seen either of her brothers like this, except once, but her older brother hadn’t known she’d been watching him at that time, or what he had been doing with himself, only a couple of years earlier.

She knew that Steve sometimes seemed to be aroused with her when they dressed after swimming, and that he stuck out obviously. He was certainly that way now, but wasn’t sticking up.

When he was that way, was when he usually swam farther out to the cooler water, or got out altogether and dressed, even as wet as he was, and shyly, with his back to her.

She closed that sight off, nervously replacing that waistband slowly, and letting out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She felt breathless.

She wouldn’t ask. Not yet.

He must know what she’d done. He couldn’t be asleep or hypnotized.

Why didn’t he say something?

She retreated and tickled him again under his chin as she returned to focus on his nose and eyes, leaning over him, breathing on him, wanting him to respond, to do something, to say something.

Please say something.

She was too close. He would be able to feel her breasts resting on him.

She studied every detail she could see of his eyes and his nose.

He was easy to look at. She’d never before been this close to any boy. She knew he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her; that he wouldn’t sit up suddenly and wrestle her to one side, laughing at her surprise, as her brothers had done with her as she’d ridden on their backs as a child, as though she were riding a horse, with them on all fours. But she’d been dressed then. She wasn’t now.

She was distracted by that thought. It would be nice if they could play like that.

He slowly raised his head and kissed her, catching her by surprise.

She froze.

So did he, knowing suddenly, that he shouldn’t have done that.

He expected her to swear at him or to be annoyed; to strike playfully at him, but she wasn’t annoyed, and she didn’t hit him.

She’d paused and looked down at him.

“Why did you do that, Steve?”

She’d asked, calmly.

She wasn’t angry with him, but seemed calm and curious. They had come a long way together.

It was a simple question that needed an answer.

He didn’t ask her in turn, why she had been curious enough to look down into his undershorts, as he’d dreamed she had, while he’d just laid there, letting her do that, when he should have objected and moved.

But he hadn’t. As long as she’d been slow and hadn’t taken it too fast, he hadn’t panicked.

She waited to see how he would respond.

“Because you are so beautiful. So gentle. You are perfect. A kiss, seemed to be called for.”

She smiled down at him. He’d said that before, too. She wanted to believe him.

She leaned in swiftly and kissed him back, before she sat up from him.


But she so much wanted to believe him.

She stood up from him, throwing sand playfully onto his belly and his undershorts, seeing that he had changed. His underwear had moved again. He was sticking up again now.

Her doing what she had done, had triggered that change. He was even more aroused now, because of that.

She hadn’t expected that, or what he’d said. Nor had she expected to detect that depth of feeling for her in those words and the way he’d said them.

She shouldn’t say anything, or ask, but she was feeling breathless. Where had she found the courage to do what she’d done? Many girls had come to grief after being too bold like that.

She walked away from him and out into the water, going out into it to her knees, stripping her panties from her to wash the sand out of them and to wash herself between her legs and around her cheeks, knowing that he watched her every step of the way, wishing that he were doing that for her.

She knew he watched. He always watched her; unable to help himself.

There would be nothing to see with her back to him.

He could join her if he wanted to, after getting rid of his own, and they could stand there like that and learn even more about each other, but he didn’t.

Just as well.

She decided against leaving her panties off and walking back to the fire to dry them out before dressing and going home. That would be too much all at once. Next time.

However, they both knew that it would be only a matter of time before they would be naked with each other after this, and then anything, absolutely anything, would be possible.

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