Small beach towns don't have extensive options for clothes shopping, and our best plan was one largish shop that was basically split down the middle. I was dragged into the womenswear section straight away, and told to sit on the chair by the changing rooms and pass judgement.

The twins behaved appallingly. I was delighted and shocked at the same time. Heather was more restrained, and I was trying to figure out if that was because she was in her home town, or was just a little less insane than the other two.

The girls grabbed skirts and tops of various sorts, some of them fairly obviously not intended for working in the restaurant that evening. They just kept trying things on - and off - until Steph wiggled out of the changing room in just a tee-shirt and a tiny new pair of bright red knickers.

"Just to prove," she whispered to me, "that I don't always wear black ones."

The grumpy woman in charge of the department we were in promptly came over and spoke with Steph, who was polite, apologetic, and still standing there in her knickers. She promised to behave, and returned to trying things on. It became apparent that behave actually meant be more subtle. She and her half-sister kept flashing their underwear at me, and more than once accidentally neglected to button shirts which had nothing but teenage breasts underneath them.

In the end, they selected a number of items, including the clothing for work, and Steph said she would pay for it all. "I have some holiday money," she told me by way of explanation. Heather told me quietly to stop worrying. She said that the two of them were loaded, and had spent a lot less money on their visit than they normally would. That was when Vicki sat on my lap and told me she didn't have the knickers on any more.

"The new ones?"

"Those too."

She wiggled off, turned, and kissed me quickly.

I decided I needed to relax. I couldn't, of course. For a start I needed to get to the menswear department without anyone seeing my erection, and then I was going to have to try clothes on as instructed. See that? Relaxed or not, I was at least getting used to them.

I volunteered to carry some of the girls' clothing to the counter. That gave me something to hold in front of my trousers, and a chance to calm down. I managed to get things more or less under control and walked over to the menswear side, looking for some black trousers. A staff member came over to help me, but before he could get a word in, Steph walked up behind me and took over.

I was ordered to go and stand in the changing cubicle, and just try on whatever was handed to me. It was fun in a way. I'd throw something on, and then walk out to show the girls. They would vote, and hand me something else. They ignored my insistence on only being there for black trousers and a shirt, and had me model all sorts of things. The craziness continued until I was trying on some jeans.

I heard Steph's voice. "Hmmm... Boxers, then?"

I looked up. She must have been standing on some sort of ladder, and her head and shoulders poked over the top of the door. "Steph!"

"That's a yes?"

"No."

"Briefs?"

"I don't need any."

"That's hardly the point. Size?"

"Well, medium, I guess."

"Yeah... but what about in front?"

"Stop it!"

She turned her head, and called loudly across the shop. "Vicki? Briefs. Medium, he says."

She paused and nodded her head, while I shook mine in amazement.

"Big in the front, though."

"Steph!"

She looked at me and grinned. "What?"

"Stop that now."

"Or?"

"Or I'll make you sorry."

"That'd be a first. Be right back."

Her head disappeared. I started dragging the jeans on.

"Hold it."

She was back. "What?"

"These first. Present from Vicki." A pair of navy briefs sailed down and landed on my head. "My, don't you look sophisticated."

"Go away."

"I will." She swivelled and spoke to someone else, and then turned back. "Apparently... it's against store policy for me to perv over the door like this. I'm told. Pity."

"Look, I promise to try them on. Just get down."

"It's a deal." She grinned, lifted herself up a little higher, wiggled her chest at me, and climbed down. I could hear her talking to someone out there. She was not apologising.

The three of them were waiting for me when I opened the door. Heather nodded. Vicki smiled. Steph walked behind me, pulled the waistband of the jeans out while pushing my back, and inspected. "Nice ass. Pity about the undies."

I pushed her off and turned, in time for Vicki to repeat the process. I was completely lost until Heather rescued me. She told the other two to leave me alone, handed me a shirt and a pair of black trousers, and pointed me back at the changing room.

I shut the door and tried to concentrate on what I was doing while the girls talked about my ass and laughed some more outside.

That was when a staff member walked over - I was betting it was the old bat from womenswear - and told the girls they had to leave. Steph made a fuss, as you'd expect, but in the end Heather persuaded the other two to do as they were told, and leave. I stood there, unsure of what to do next, when I heard Heather's voice.

"Heads up, Paul. Incoming."

"Huh?"

"Look up."

A wallet came sailing over the door and I caught it. "What's this?"

"Just use the cash for the clothes. Vicki said you have to get the jeans, and Steph doesn't want to see you out here without the briefs. No, hold on, I said that wrong."

"Whose money is this?"

"Steve's, of course."

"Oh. You sure?"

"Just do it. Honestly, it's much easier. Anyway, you look great in those jeans."

"I do?"

"You do. Look, I gotta go, before they cause another riot. See you outside."

"Thanks, Heather. I'll be out soon."

"No rush."

The clothes for the restaurant fitted fine, so I dressed in my old clothes again and took the items I'd been instructed to buy to the counter. The young guy there took everything from me, and folded the clothes, taking note of the prices. He totalled it up and told me what I owed him. It felt strange taking money from Steph's wallet, but it appeared that Heather was right. She was loaded.

"Excuse me, Sir?"

"Huh?" I was distracted with my thoughts.

"Here's your receipt, Sir, and your purchases." He handed me a bag. "May I say, Sir," and he leaned forward until his face was inches from mine. "You gotta be the luckiest son of a bitch."

"Oh, that right?"

"Sure seems that way from here."

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am."

"So... which one is yours?"

"Oh, none of them."

"No?"

"Uh uh. We're all just friends."

"So you're not... with Heather?"

"Nope."

"You might be lucky, but I'm not sure you're smart."

"What do you mean?"

"Hey, no offense... but she's gorgeous."

"She... Yeah, she is."

"Well."

"Yeah, alright, thanks." I walked off, not thinking clearly. As soon as I cleared the main door, I was attacked, and completely forgot about what he was saying. For a while.

Steph took one arm, and Vicki took the other. Steph looked up. "Well, all set?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. Listen, about the money..."

"I won't discuss it."

"No?"

"Uh uh. Look, I can afford it, and in any case Vicki's paying half."

"I am?"

"You are."

"Damn. I better get a kiss then."

"I stopped walking, turned to Vicki, and kissed her. Properly. Steph cleared her throat, and I turned to her and repeated the effort. Then I looked at Heather.

"Like hell. In the street? No thanks. Anyway, I didn't buy you anything."

"You rescued me. Numerous times."

"Keep your distance."

"That a threat?"

"I'll scream."

I grinned at her. "Later, then?"

"Maybe."

"Good enough." I turned to Steph. "Well, what now?"

"Easy. Pick up the dirty photos..."

"Steph!" That was Heather.

"Sorry. The landscapes."

"Better."

"Then, give me back my wallet..."

"Oh, shit, sorry. Here you go."

"Thanks. And then, I have a request..."

"Oh oh."

"Yeah." She reached into the bag of stuff they'd bought, and pulled on a narrow black string. Attached to it was a small but very bright rainbow-striped bikini top.

"Oh, I see."

"Not yet, you don't. Listen, we don't have to be anywhere until tonight, right? So how about we take the photos, and the camera, grab some food, and head back to the beach? Paul can buy lunch so he feels better about the money."

Heather was the first to respond. "You just want to tease the boys in that thing."

"Not all the boys."

"Well, it's certainly not your worst idea ever, and it's getting hot, so why not?"

I followed. Who wouldn't?

---

I hopped across the hot sand with a camera bag and some cold drinks, trailing after three gorgeous girls in bikinis. I sat with the girls, and shared out the drinks. The four of us looked around to make sure no one was close enough to see too clearly, and then Heather took out the bundle of prints we'd picked up, and handed them to me. We went through them, one by one, and the girls giggled and said they loved them. I looked at them more critically, but was stunned by how well the landscapes had worked, given the distractions. I was sure I had something there that Sally might like.

Heather reminded me that, given the presence of her naked body on the same strip of negatives as some of the landscapes, we'd best let Sally choose from the prints, and then we could get Heather's tight-lipped friend to produce the enlargement for us. I promised to do my best not to show Sally any naked girl pics. When we had gone through them all a couple of times, I went to put them away in my camera bag, and Heather asked if she could have another look at the images of the cliffs down near the river. I thought she wanted to take another peek at her nude shots, but it really was the landscapes.

"Paul, so are there rules about this stuff? You know, where to put things in the photo, and things? I mean I've been swimming at the river a million times, and I've walked all around there, but I've never seen it look like this."

"I don't think there are rules, so much. There are some guidelines, but the rest is up to the photographer."

"Hmm... I'd like to go for a walk with you, if we get some time. To see how you do it."

"I'm no sort of expert, Heather."

"No," Vicki interrupted. "But you're cute. So put those away now, and get with the slavery."

"What slavery?"

Steph, on the other side of Vicki, handed me the sunblock. "This slavery."

Heather agreed. "Can't argue with the logic there. Here, put these in your bag. We can look at them later."

The three girls lay on their stomachs and watched the people moving around on the beach. I massaged the sunblock into Vicki's back first, and then Steph's. No funny business this time. I looked at Heather, and she looked back. I raised my eyebrows. She smiled, undid her bikini top, and relaxed on the towel in invitation. I knelt over her, just as I had the other two, and rubbed the lotion into her pale back, marvelling silently at the freckles, and the feel of her skin. I wasn't sure how to deal with the area near the bikini bottom, but Heather fixed it by reaching down and pulling the green cloth down off the top of her ass. I just rubbed the lotion in, then slapped her ass as a random sort of a thank you. She jumped and grinned.

Vicki, who still had the strap intact on her bikini, lifted herself up to put some sunblock on me, so I lay down, relaxed, and let her knead me a little. The minx put her hands down my shorts, and squeezed my buttocks. I just ignored her for a change, but it was definitely nice.

While Vicki was rubbing sunblock into my back, Steph, who was looking stunning in her rainbow bikini and knew it, casually undid the strap I'd left tied across her back, and lifted herself up to move over, next to me, taking Vicki's spot.

"Hey, what you doing?"

"I'm just moving over."

"That's my place."

"I need to be nearer the middle."

"Why?"

"Well, we're just going to lie here and do nothing, right? Just stare at the boys, and stuff?"

"So?"

"Well, if I lie here I can tell a story."

"And I can't?"

"Sure. You want to?"

"No."

"See?"

Vicki hauled herself off me, and went to lie in Steph's spot. "It's completely beyond me, Steve."

"Oh, come on then. Swap back."

"No."

"Come on. You want to."

"Not now. I'm lying down."

"No?"

"No, Steve."

"Okay."

"It better be good."

"What better, Vicki?"

"The story, of course."

"Oh. Well, I've already told you."

"Oh."

"The library."

"Oh, that story. Listen up, guys."

Heather grinned. "I've heard that too. Show off."

"Hey, you want me to tell it or not?"

"No."

"Yes."

I cast the deciding vote. "Yes please, Steph. I've certainly never heard it."

"Done. Despite appearances to the contrary, I'm a bookworm."

"You are fuckin' not."

"Look, am I going to tell this?"

"She's not telling the truth, Paul."

"Of course I am."

"You never tell the truth."

"I do so. Sometimes that suits the story."

---

I saw him when he appeared, with his nerdy clothes and his old leather bag. I watched as he went and spoke to the librarian, laughed about something, then sat at a table, pulled some books from his bag, and started reading.

I'd seen him before. He was a regular visitor. I was a regular stalker.

I couldn't explain my attraction to him. Not to anyone, not even myself. I just wanted him. I lay in bed at night with my panties kicked off, and my knees spread. My fingers walked up and down my slippery labia, and caressed my needy clit. I thought of him.

The ride in the car to school was filled with him. Every bump in the road was a movement he made inside me. When I got to school I'd rush to the toilets and do it again.

Last time I saw him in the library, I had to run off and find somewhere private so I could stop the quivering between my legs. It took me three tries.

I was dripping wet now, just watching him, and he didn't even know I existed.

The plan seemed ludicrous now. I had been hoping to lure him into the stacks at the back of the library, and have my way with him. I couldn't see now how I was going to get that to work, but sometimes fate plays a hand.

He turned the page of one of his books, read a little something and then turned to the pile beside him. The books were lifted and then dropped one by one, looking at the titles. He obviously couldn't find what he wanted, because he looked back at the first book, presumably to check, and then stood, wrote something quickly on his hand, and walked straight towards me.

He was muttering, and not looking too happy. I wondered for a moment if he'd seen me watching him, but he walked directly past, and headed exactly where I wanted him to. The stacks.

I picked up my things and turned to follow, and bumped straight into a middle-aged woman who was heading in the same direction. Damn! The whole point of the stacks was that there was never anyone there. What in hell was she doing?

Now I was following her, but just because I needed to know when she left again. It took a while. She wandered around pointlessly, not quite knowing what she wanted, nor where to find it. I almost stopped to help her.

Eventually, she gave up, and wandered away. I walked past her to the back of the room, looking for my geek.

I found him, standing with his back to me, pulling volumes from high on the shelves. Suddenly feeling a little shy, I turned away from him, and pulled a book from the shelf...

---

"Oh, please! Steve, last time you told this story it was completely different!" Heather was smiling, and shaking her head in disbelief.

"I'm an artist."

"You're a con-artist."

"You want me to stop?"

"Yes."

"No!" That was Vicki, who must have heard this story before. "I want to see what she comes up with."

"You don't."

"I do!"

"Paul?"

"Oh, I want to know what happens."

"I can already tell you what happens."

"Don't you dare."

I looked from Heather to Steph and back. "Please, finish the story, Steph."

"Steve."

"Whatever."

"I'm not appreciated."

"I thought it was all about being jumped."

"Is that happening?"

"Carry on."

"Alright, alright."

---

... but the book was heavier than I thought. It slipped from my fingers and thumped to the floor. Instead of having a literary alibi, I was making a fool of myself.

He looked, shook his head, and turned back to what he was doing. I just stood and watched, pretending to be looking at the book. Eventually, able to tell he was being stared at, he turned back to me. He smiled nervously, then returned to his work.

I shivered, and felt dampness dripping from between my legs. In the end I couldn't help myself. My hand dropped and pressed my skirt against my mound. My fingertips slid across my clit and I moaned.

Needless to say, he looked again, and this time he didn't turn back.

I guessed I was past the point of any sort of denial. I didn't care. He was watching, and he wasn't running off. So I did it again. I pressed my skirt hard against myself, feeling my soaked knickers on my skin, and slid a fingertip up my slit, and across my clit. This time I gasped with the shock of it.

I was watching him while I touched myself, and his interest was obvious. I could make out the outline of his hardening cock in his pants. I walked closer.

He kept watching me, and said nothing. I turned back to see if anyone was coming, and then took his hand and led him around the back of the shelves. I stood directly in front of him, and slid one hand down over the front of his trousers, running over the now obvious bulge. He wasn't going to run, or scream. He was hard as an axe.

---

"An axe?"

"Okay, a hammer."

"Hammer's better."

"Yeah, alright, hammer. That alright, Heather?"

"Oh, hey, you just keep right on telling it wrong. Again. "

"It might have been wrong last time, and right this time."

"Nope."

"No?"

"No. Vicki?"

"No."

"Shit. Too bad."

"More."

---

He was hard as a hammer.

I looked up at his face, not having realised how much taller than me he was, and then he was looking back down. He tilted his body a little, and kissed me.

His lips touched mine, and I felt his cock pulse against my hand. He lips were just the way I'd thought they might be. Warm and dry and just a little bit rough. Moving my hand out of the way I rubbed my body against his as we kissed. His tongue found mine, and we tasted each other.

We stood there for a while, just enjoying each other's touch, but we both knew it couldn't stay that way. His hands slid down my back, over my ass and down to the hem of my skirt. He lifted it up, and ran his hands over my knickers, and then pulled them down off my ass. They fell to my knees and I wriggled to make them drop further. I kicked the knickers off and they flew through the air to hang carelessly black from the corner of a dusty book cover.

I unzipped him. I knew it would take too long to get his trousers off, so I just opened his fly and slid my hand in to extract his cock. It was larger than I'd thought, not that I knew too much about cocks then, but I'd had one in my hands before, and this definitely felt fatter. Harder. I liked the feel of it in my hand, but more than that I wanted it somewhere else.

I looked up at him, silently questioning him. He didn't say anything, but pressed me against the shelf. His hands slid over my breasts and down the sides of my body and then they were on my ass again, and he lifted me. His big hands lifted me and slid me up the shelves, and then, without any warning, he lowered me, still holding me in his hands, and his solid hammer-hard cock slid tightly up and inside me.

It didn't hurt. He spread me, and filled me, and it felt wonderful. His hard cock rested inside me, and he kissed me again before he started moving.

He pulled himself out a little and thrust back in, and I groaned, my mouth still over his. I sucked in a breath and he did it again. And again. He got into a rhythm he could use, and his cock pumped in and out of me, his breath short and his hands quivering on my ass.

He slid in and out, and his angle, though awkward, was just right, and when he exploded, deep inside me, I came too, shaking with my orgasm, pulling him close to me, wanting to keep him forever inside me, and knowing it was impossible.

He muttered something unintelligible and then used the last of his strength to lift me off him again, and lowered me gently to the floor. His seed was running from my depths and I could feel it seeping down my legs. I didn't care. I looked at him, and kissed him again.

Now that it was done, I was suddenly aware of how vulnerable we were. How public. I let him go, and turned away to check if anyone was coming, while he tucked himself away again, and zipped up his trousers.

He reached for me, took my hand in his, and whispered in my ear. "I've been watching you for so long!"

---

Vicki spoke first. "My God, I think maybe I need a swim."

"I must have got something right, then."

"You certainly did."

Heather looked across with a grin. "Good recovery. Damn good."

"You too?"

"Maybe."

"Come on, Paul."

I shook my head. "Uh uh. Just gimme a minute, would you?"

"Oh, a bit... excited, are you?"

"Mind your own."

"Can I have a look?"

"Steve." Heather waggled a finger at her.

"What?"

"Hey," I interrupted. "So if the story is supposed to be true, who had an encounter in the library?"

"An encounter?"

"Yeah."

"A fuck."

"Well, okay. A fuck. Who had a fuck in the library?"

Vicki blushed a little, and raised her hand. "Me."

Then Steph helped out some more. "Not just any fuck."

"No," Heather agreed.

"No," echoed Vicki. "My first."

"First library?"

"First fuck."