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What Mom and Dad Don't Know
   An Erotic Novel by Peter Teamo
   This is a work of fiction.  Names, places, characters and incidents are
either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously,
and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations,
events or locales is entirely coincidental.
   What Mom and Dad Don't Know (C) 2005 by Peter Teamo
   All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright
Conventions.  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without
permission in writing from the copyright owner.
   Chapter 1
   Rory Slocum couldn't wait to get naked.  He had ran halfway home from
school, and he was panting as he slammed the living room door shut behind
him and leaned back against it.  He didn't even bothered going up to his
bedroom.  He tossed his school books and the precious package he had been
carrying aside and tore off his clothes, right there in the middle of the
living room.  Feeling delightfully free once he was nude, he jumped up and
down and giggled as his cock whipped against his belly and the dog tag that
hung from his neck--the single piece of clothing that he was
wearing--jingled as it swung back and forth.
   He looked at the big brown envelope that stuck out between his
schoolbooks and decided to hold off for just a while longer.  He had
already learned that anticipation made things that much more exciting, and
that excitement had been building ever since his friend Freddy had given
him the package.  Imagining himself a nudist, he marched around the house,
his bare feet tantalized by the lush nap of the living room carpet, the
cold tiled floor of the kitchen, and finally the rough wooden decking just
outside the backdoor, which was enclosed just enough for him to be outside
with his dick hanging out without the neighbors seeing him.
   "I am a sexy looking stud with a big cock," he announced in a voice
carefully pitched so that it wouldn't carry far, and then he laughed.
   This was something he always wanted to do.  A first step, and he
couldn't wait to tell Freddy about it.  They had both vowed to life a
nudist life and this was as close as he had come to fulfilling his pledge.
Until now, he had only been naked in his bedroom, the bathroom, and in the
locker room and showers at school.  Those places didn't count.
   He went back into the living room, picked up the envelope that he had
temporarily been trying to ignore, then returned to the kitchen.  This was
it, he thought as he opened the refrigerator and felt the coolness waft out
over his naked body, enlivening his prick.  This was nude living!  He found
the bowl of egg salad his mother had left for sandwiches and returned to
the kitchen table.  When he was at last settled and eating his sandwich, he
pulled the magazine out of the brown envelope and flipped it open. 
Pictures of happy naked people jumped right out at him from the pages of
Nude Living Monthly.
   He frowned when the phone rang, interrupting the study that was making
his dick delightfully hard.  Probably a telemarketer or someone calling for
his sister, Molly.  He would have let the answering machine pick up on it,
but it just might be Freddy.
   "Hi, Rory.  Is Molly there?" It was Anne, currently his sister‘s
best friend.  And the only one of them that he could stand.  Older them
him, they all treated him like a creep.  Only Anne treated him like a human
being.
   "She had a meeting of the Pep Committee.  She won‘t be home until
seven."
   "Molly said your parents are away for the weekend."
   "Yeah.  We're on our own."
   "No babysitter?"
   "Be serious!"
   She laughed.  "Who cooks?"
   "We're going to send out for pizza."
   "That's cool.  Well, tell her I called."
   Actually, it was cool talking to a girl while was he was naked.  "What
are you doing?" he asked, trying to extend the conversation and the
excitement just a little longer.
   "Just my homework," she answered.  I like to get it out of the way so I
have the weekend free.  How about you?"
   His pulse quickened.  This was the longest conversation he had ever had
with the older girl.  And he was nude!
   "Just having a sandwich and reading a magazine," he said.  "A nudist
magazine," he said gleefully.  That would impress her.  "I'm sitting here
naked," he added almost as a casual afterthought.
   "You're what?"
   "Eating a sandwich, reading a magazine--"
   "You said you were naked."
   "Yeah."
   "That sounds sick." She giggled.  "What are you doing, twerp?  Do you
have your thing in your hand?  Are you playing with yourself?"
   Suddenly, I became panicky.  She might tell Molly.  "No!  It's not like
that," he explained.  "I'm a nudist--a naturist.  It's a lifestyle."
   "Yeah, right.  Molly never said anything about you guys being nudists."
   "It's not ‘us guys.' It's only me.  Me an my friend Freddy."
   "What?  Are you guys members of a club or something?"
   "Not yet," he swaggered, his confidence growing.  She seemed to be
taking me seriously.  "But we're going to out to one and join up as soon as
Freddy gets his driver's license."
   "So what do you do in the meantime?  Just practice at home?"
   "Yeah."
   "What do you do?"
   "Oh, things."
   "Sexy things?"
   "Naw.  People always think that nudism and sex go together.  But it's
not true.  Yeah, you have to be nude to have sex, but you don't have to
have sex just because you're nude," he said knowledgeably.  "Know what I
mean?  Nudism is just healthy living--you know, the sun and all that kind
of stuff." He finished, almost out of breath, proud of himself.  Freddy
would have loved his explanation.
   "So what do you do?"
   "Eat sandwiches, read magazines.  You know, the usual stuff."
   "Sounds cool.  What happens if you have a visitor?"
   "What kind of visitor?" Rory asked cautiously.  "Male or female."
   "Female.  Would she have to get nude, too?"
   He began to sweat.  Closing his eyes, he tried to remember what was said
in that pamphlet Freddy had about introducing your wife to nudism.  "No,"
he said firmly, "she wouldn't have to take off her clothes--not right away.
Sometimes women need time to adjust.  You know, like sticking your toe in
the water at the beach."
   "So she could get away with just taking off her top?  That can't be so
bad, they do that all the time in France, don't they?  At the beach?"
   "Oh, yeah, yeah," he said quickly, his heart pounding.  "The top would
be okay.  Like in France."
   "You're not shitting me, are you?  Are you really sitting there in the
nude eating a sandwich?"
   "I've almost finished the sandwich," he conceded.
   "This I've got to see!  I'm coming right over, twerp!  And you'd better
be naked or I'm going to tell your sister all about your obscene phone
calls!"
   His hand shook as he hung up the phone.  What was he going to do now? 
Freddy!  That was it!  Freddy would know.  He dialed his friend's number,
but all he got was a busy signal.  "Fuck!" he muttered.  His friend was
probably using his computer--on the internet watching porn or something. 
He was on his own.
   He moved back into the living room.  Maybe he should put his clothes
back on.  No, he couldn't do that.  She was expecting to find him nude. 
Wanted to find him nude.  That was why she was rushing over.  And she had
as much as told him she was going to take off her top.  God!  He had never
seen real tits before!  What was he going to do?
   Recognizing that he was close to hyperventilating, he sank down onto the
sofa and tried to calm himself.  You can do this, he told himself.  You can
do this.  She's just coming over here to see you naked.  To read a
magazine. Eat a sandwich.  You're a nudist, right.  It's no big thing.  You
can do it!  Piece of cake....
   Ten minutes later he was in the kitchen surveying the results of his
handiwork.  He had covered the table with the pink tablecloth with hearts
on it that his sister used for Valentine's Day because he knew girls liked
pink and he wanted to make her feel at ease.  The new egg salad sandwich
had been cut into four pieces, just like his mother did for her bridge
club. Except he had left the crusts on.  He had set a place at the end of
the table and one beside it.  The sandwiches were in the center, and
positioned beside the place that had been set for her was the nudist
magazine, opened discreetly to a full page picture of a nudist family--mom,
dad, a teenage girl, and a younger girl and boy, along with the family dog.
And in case she wanted something to drink, he had placed a carton of milk
right beside the nudist magazine.  Perfect!  He had never before gone to so
much trouble for a girl.
   When the doorbell rang, his heart stuttered.  He forced calmness upon
himself as he moved toward the door.  He jumped again when it chimed a
second time.  And then he opened the door.
   The smile on Anne's face turned into a look of shock and terror the
moment she saw Rory.  She covered her mouth to muffle her shriek.  Rory
quickly closed the door behind her.
   ‘Take it easy, Anne," he said, trying to calm her.
   "You're naked!"
   "I told you I was."
   She sagged.  "But I thought--oh my god!" She closed her eyes, then
slowly opened them again.
   "Are you going to be okay?  Can I get you a glass of water?"
   "No.  I'm all right.  It's just that I've never--I mean, never--"
   "You've never seen a naked boy before?"
   "N-No."
   Rory grinned and deliberatively struck a pose that showed everything off
without really flaunting it.  This was neat.  She was older than him, but
he definitely had the upper hand.
   "Is it all right if I look?" she asked.
   "Sure."
   She looked.  "Wow!" she finally said.  "I've never seen--I mean, I've
never thought--so this is what they mean by ‘well-hung.'"
   The blood was pumping furiously through his veins, but he tried to
ignore it.  "Can I take your sweater?" he asked in what he thought was a
suave manner.
   "I never realized you were so mature, Rory," she said as she extracted
her arms and let him take her sweater.  Once he had the sweater, he didn't
quite know what to do with it, so he tossed it over the back of a chair. 
She tore her eyes away from his cock and looked back up into his face.  She
smiled.  "I'll never call you twerp again, I promise." Then she saw him
still staring at her, waiting for something, and she stiffened.  "Ohmigod!
I'm supposed to take something off, aren't I?"
   He grinned.  "It's not required, but it's customary--in a nudist
situation."
   "Yes, yes.  I understand.  But give me a minute, okay?  Let me get used
to this . . .  situation."
   Rory decided he needed to take charge, otherwise they might still be
standing here when his sister got home.  "They do it in France all the
time," he reminded her as he cautiously moved a step closer to her.  She
was wearing a pair of navy blue shorts and a red Minnie Mouse tee shirt. 
With shaking fingers, he reached for the bottom of her tee shirt. 
"Sometimes it's better to just do it and get it over with," he told her in
a soothing voice.  He had never been so bold with a girl before.
   "I guess you're right," she agreed in a shaky voice, and she lifted her
arms, making it easy for him to skim her top up and over her head.  "Wow!
You're a smooth operator." She smiled at him as he tried to avoid staring
at her well-filled white bra.  "It's easier with a guy who knows what he's
doing, if you know what I mean." She turned and presented him with her
back. "This is going to be a new experience for me," she warned him, "so
please don't laugh or I'll completely go to pieces."
   "I won't laugh," he assured her as he tried to figure out how to undo
the hooks on the wide bra strap that stretched across her back.  "It's
tight," she remarked, hunching her shoulders back and easing the strain
just enough for him to release the hooks.
   She turned back toward him, still holding the cups of the bra over her
tits while she worked the shoulder straps down off her shoulders.  Then she
dropped her arms and pulled the bra completely away.  Her tits wobbled,
then settled with their pink tips pointing directly at him.  Round bulbs,
the size of apples, they were slightly pendulous and far more sexy in the
flesh than any he had every seen in a nudist or porn magazine.  He couldn't
resist.  He reached toward them.  "May I?" he asked.
   "D-Do nudists touch?"
   "Ah, yeah.  Sure."
   "I suppose it would be all right.  Do you like them?"
   He touched her tits, lifted them, felt their weight, their springy
consistency.  "They're fantastic," he breathed, drawing his hands away. 
His cock had started to harden and he really didn't want that to happen. 
Not now, at least.
   ‘Thank you," she said with a sincere smile.  "I suppose you've
seen a lot of tits."
   "A few," he said with a confident swagger.  "But yours are the best
yet."
   "Really?" Her eyes filled with delight.  "You're just saying that."
   "No, really," he assured her.  His hands went to the waistband of her
shorts, trying to find where it was attached.
   "You said I wouldn‘t have to get nude."
   "Aren't you wearing panties?"
   "Of course, but--"
   His fingers found the hook at the side.  The shorts released easier than
her bra had, and they slid smoothly down her legs revealing a pair of white
low-rise bikini panties that covered no more than they were supposed to,
but that part they covered quite adequately.
   Rory stood up and caught his breath.  "You look beautiful," he told her,
reaching for her hand.  She delayed for a moment to kick her sandals off,
then went with him into the kitchen.
   "What a lovely tablecloth!" she exclaimed.  "And the sandwiches! 
They're so cute!  And the magazine, too--ohmigod, they're all nude!  A
whole family--isn't that just too cool!"
   "The dog, too," he pointed out.
   She looked up at him, her smile radiant.  There was admiration in her
eyes.  "Did you do all this yourself?"
   He swallowed a bite of sandwich and washed it down with milk.  "Yep,
Anne.  I did it all for you."
   "Wow!  This if just like a date, isn't it?  A strange kind of date--I
mean, with our clothes off at the beginning instead of at the end--not that
my clothes have ever come off.  You're the first one who's ever seen me
like this, Rory," she said a bit breathlessly, arching her back to present
herself a little more favorably now that she was getting used to things. 
"Do nudists always do it this why?"
   "Huh?" He pulled his eyes away from her tits.  "Oh, yeah, mostly."
   "Actually, it's kind of cool, isn't it?  It's like having your dessert
first.  Why put off the good stuff until the end?--not that I'm advocating
going all the way at the beginning of a date--or even the end, for that
matter--" She stopped, flustered.
   "I think I understand what you mean," he said softly.
   "You do?  It's so hard to find a guy who's understanding.  You're just
so adult, Rory.  I can't believe I've never noticed it before." She gave
him a wink and licked a bit of egg salad away from her upper lip with the
point of her pretty pink tongue.  "You're cute, too," she said with a grin,
"with your clothes off."
   Rory didn't know how to respond.  She was giving him a big head--in more
ways than one, and that made him sit up more proudly.  More maturely.
   She sighed pleasantly.  "You sure know how to treat a girl. 
Everything's just been too perfect." She reached for another piece of the
sandwich.  "Do you have a girlfriend?"
   "No."
   "I'm between boyfriends, too.  It's just so hard to find a really mature
guy," she said, and she smiled at him.  "I'm still a virgin.  How about
you?"
   He avoided her eyes.  "I really don't like to talk about my sexual
experiences."
   "Oh!" she squealed.  "You're so cool!  Most guys, that's all they can
talk about--their sexual conquests.  But look at you!  You're just so calm
and collected.  You keep it all to yourself." She reached across and put
her hand atop his.  "A girl likes that, Rory.  Sexual relations should be
confidential--God!  I hope I‘m not boring you with my talk."
   "On the contrary," he said.  He loved watching her talk.  She was in
constant motion, tossing her long, black hair back over her shoulder every
time the ends slipped down to tickle her breast, and she was so animated
that her tits never stopped jiggling.  "I'm fascinated."
   "Funny," she continued, "here I am just babbling away about sex.  I've
never talked about sex with a guy before."
   "Maybe being naked makes it easier," he suggested.
   "Maybe." She gave him a coy smile.  "But I think that it might me the
guy that I'm with." She gave him a warm smile.  "Do you believe in love at
first sight?"
   Rory almost choked on a mouthful of milk.  "Love?" he croaked.
   "I don't mean love--not really.  Not at our age.  But chemistry, maybe.
I feel there might be something between us, don't you?  Look at the facts.
I've seen you naked, meaning that I know more about you already than any
other boy I've ever met.  And, although this is only our first date, so to
speak, you've already gotten past second and almost to third base with me.
This must mean something, Rory, don't you think?"
   Rory was desperately trying not to think about it.  Already his cock was
rising alarmingly under the table.  Unless he found some way to wrap the
tablecloth around himself, he would never be able to hide it when he stood
up.
   She reached across the table again and grasped his wrist.  Firmly, this
time.  She leaned toward him with a pleading look in her eye.  "Talk to me,
Rory, please.  I need to know how you feel about me."
   Rory cleared his throat and tried to appear calm.  "I feel good about
you, Anne.  I mean really good!  Out of all of Molly's friends, I like you
the best.  You're more than just sexy," he said, casting a quick glance at
her tits.  "You're friendly, fun to be around, and even smart.  You're my
dream girl," he finished with a smile.
   "You think I'm sexy?  You . . .  dream about me?"
   "Yes," he said softly.  Actually, he had dreamed about all his sister's
girlfriends, sometimes parading them in an imaginary nude beauty contest
while he stroked his cock.
   "Have you ever--I know sometimes boys, you know--"
   "Yes," he admitted sheepishly.  "I've done that, too."
   "Oh, God!  That's so cool!  To think that a guy is so overcome by me
that he pleasures himself--"
   "Anne," he blurted out without even thinking.  "Let's go steady."
   "Huh?"
   "Only temporarily.  You're between boys, I'm between girls.  We could
break it off as soon as we found each other else."
   "In the meantime," she said thoughtfully, "we'd have each other."
   "And we could do this again," he added excitedly.  "If you want to do it
again."
   "And I wouldn't have to feel cheap about it, would I?  When you're going
steady with a guy, he's entitled to some liberties.  It's expected.  And
you could help me with my virginity problem."
   His heart sank.  "Like, find some guy to do it for you?"
   "No, silly!  I mean, like, you do it--"
   His jaw dropped, and he stared at her in awestruck surprise.
   "--a week from Friday at Becky's slumber party."
   "At a slumber party?" His mind just was not registering this.
   "What could be more cool?  I have all my friends there for support--in
case I get the jitters--and they could make a video so that I could
remember it forever and ever."
   His mind was just a puddle of muddled emotion, but the delight in her
eyes made his young heart turn a somersault.
   "Do you have something to pin me?" she asked sweetly.
   "Pin you?" It took him a moment to recover his senses.  "Oh!" He touched
the dog tag that was hanging around his neck.  "How about this?"
   "That would be perfect!  It‘s even got your naked sweat on it! 
How cool is that?  Every time I touch it, I‘ll think about you, just
like you are now--naked, handsome, and so very, very much a man!"
   Her enthusiasm was beginning to make his head swim.  "Stand up," he
ordered, trying his best not to sound timid as he pulled the chain over his
head and stood up himself.
   Both with their feet bare, he was only an inch taller than her.  But it
was a commanding inch.  Her eyes angled upward, following his hands as they
slipped the chain over her head.  Her nipples lightly grazed his chest, and
the feeling was not lost on either of them.  He took his time, settling the
chain under her flowing tresses and around her neck, allowing it to dangle
in the wide cleavage between her tits.  "This makes you mine," he told her,
"temporarily."
   "I'm yours," she conceded, closing her eyes and puckering her lips.
   He tried to remember the way he and Freddy had seen it done in the porn
flicks they watched.  First, you angled your head....
   Her lips felt soft and spongy.  He held his breath and experimented,
flicking his tongue-tip between her lips.  They opened easily.  He touched
her ribs, and she melted, throwing her arms around him and pressing her
ultra-soft young body against his muscular hardness.  As they sucked on
each other's tongues and exchanged sweet juices, his cock burgeoned into
hardness between them.  But there was no way either of them could handle
such intense excitement for long, and they soon broke apart.
   "Oh my God!" she exclaimed.  "Look at you!"
   His heart sank.  He did not have to look to know exactly the
embarrassing condition of his inflamed cock.
   "It's so big!  How do you ever get it into your pants?"
   "Into my pants?  I don't--"
   She let out a sudden squeal.  "Stupid me!  Of course you don't!  Omigod,
you're ready to fuck, aren't you!  Let me--can I--touch it?"
   He hadn't time to protest because her fingers were already eagerly
spanning his turgid rod.
   "Oh, wow!  It's so hard--so that's how it all works!  I can see it
now--I mean, I didn't know how stiff it got.  Wow!  It could go right
inside, couldn't it?  All the way in--and then what happens?"
   He looked at the older girl in surprise.  "You don't know?"
   "Is it sort of like peeing?  Do you just spray it out?"
   "No, it's not like that at all.  You rub it." He grinned.  "That's the
fun part--you know, in and out."
   "Rub it?" Her hands was already clutched around his pole.  Eying it
curiously, she squeezed it tightly and gave it a tentative stroke.  "Oh,
my--it's so loose." She stroked it again.  "Is this what they call jerking
off?"
   "Y-Yeah."
   His anguished tone caused her to look up.  "Am I hurting you?" she asked
in alarm.
   "Oh, no!" He caught her hand and encouraged her to continue.
   "You're enjoying this, aren't you?  Ohmigod!" She squealed.  "I'm giving
you sexual pleasure!"
   A fleeting grin tempered his pained expression.  "Y-Yeah."
   "Oh, look!  Something's coming out.  Is that it?"
   "No," he gasped, her interrupted motion allowing him a breather. 
"That's just, ah--" he didn't really know what it was called "--some kind
of oil--a lubricant.  It makes it go in easier."
   She dropped down to her knees so that she could get closer to his cock
to study it better.  "That's why I get wet," she said thoughtfully.  Then
she looked up at him, beaming, the light of knowledge filling he eyes. 
"Amazing, isn't it?  The way everything works?"
   "Lick it," he grunted.
   "Lick you penis?  Rory!  That's filthy.  I‘d just die!"
   "Girls do it," he insisted, refusing to be shamed for his cravings.  And
it was true.  He had actually seen them do it in porn flicks, so he knew it
couldn't be all that perverted.
   "Shana said that she did it," Anne mused.  "She said that Irvin did it
in her mouth and she actually swallowed some of it!  Can you imagine that?"
   "And she's not dead," he pointed out.
   "That's not the kind of ‘die' I meant," she said, staring at his
prick.  And then she sighed.  "I guess it's just like riding on the back of
a motorcycle.  If you don't ever plan on showing your tits in public, don't
bother to even get on." With that, she dipped her tongue and swiped her
tongue across the swollen tip of his dick.
   Rory didn't understand her motorcycle logic, but he thoroughly enjoyed
the delicate sensations caused by her tongue touch.
   "It's not bad," she commented, "not bad at all." Her lips curled around
the tip, treating it like the delicacy that it was, while her tongue tip
poked and teased the tiny hole it its center.  All the while, fingers from
one hand fluttered up and down the shaft with butterfly-like touches while
with her other hand she teased his balls and tickled the sensitive area
between them and his asshole.  You would think she had found a new toy, and
perhaps she had.
   Rory was in seventh heaven.  Never had his dick been in such a turgid
state of excitement, never had he been able to hold that elevated state of
arousal for so long.  It was pure pleasure, almost more than his young body
could stand.  "How am I doing?" she got out, with an inch of dick in her
mouth, and her eyes angled upward, reading his reaction.
   "You're a great cocksucker," he rasped.
   "Oh, Rory, you're so nasty!" She resumed stroking his cock and wrinkled
her nose at him.  "That's what I like about you.  I never did think you
were just a silly little kid like your sister says you are.  You're ahead
of your age--you're already a man!" She turned away from the stiff cock she
was steadily stroking, and smiled up at him.  "I think I'll call you
Studly. What will your private name be for me?"
   He was sweating and breathing heavily, but his eyes wandered around the
room as he considered her request.  A private name?  What silliness.  But
it seemed important to her, and he had already sensed that making her happy
was crucial to getting his own wants fulfilled.  His gaze locked on an
emptied jar that had been washed and set upside down to dry on the drain
board.  His mother never discarded a reusable container--the garage was
full of them.
   "How about Pickles?" he muttered.
   "Pickles!  Oh, that's too cute!  Pickles and Studly." She turned back to
the cock that she was gently manipulating.  "Wow!  That stuff's really
coming out now."
   "I'm about ready to pop," he gasped.
   "Really?  I want to see--"
   The first blast sent a stream of creamy whiteness that splattered her
cheek, ran down her chin, and dripped onto her right breast just above her
taut nipple.  She jerked backward in shocked reaction, causing the second
spurt to pool in the gap between her breasts.  She was able to protect
herself from the third eruption, pushing his cock back so that the fountain
of come went straight up almost a foot before falling back to flow over her
wrist.  The organ pumped a few more times, thoroughly drenching her hand.
   Dripping with come, she just stared in open-mouthed amazement as his
cock shriveled out of her sticky grasp.  "So that's how it all works!  You
just stick that thing way in, rub it around, and all that stuff squirts up
inside and chases the eggs around and makes babies."
   "Egg," he corrected her, remembering what they had taught him in school.
That was one class he had excelled in.  "One egg, lots of sperm.  Really,
didn't you know?"
   She stood up, her body aglow, with her come-splattered cheeks forming a
dimpled smile.  "Of course I knew, silly.  But actually seeing what happens
kind of puts it all together, doesn't it?" She looked into his eyes.  "You
don't know how many guys have tried to get into my panties, Studly, but no
one has ever gone to all this trouble to impress me and ease my fears." The
sweep of her hand took in everything from the pink tablecloth with the
nudist magazine centered upon it to his tired cock, which was drooping
downward, now, with a final drop of come dangling from its tip like a
crystalline teardrop.  She hugged him, smearing both their bodies with his
splattered come, and gave him a sweet kiss.
   He was too tired and satiated to initiate any spirited tongue action, so
the kiss was just one of promise and gratefulness, which satisfied them
both.  She licked his cheek, cleaning away the come which had smeared from
her cheek onto his.
   "Now, you can do me," she said, pointing to her cheek, which was covered
by the cream from his cock.  He started to balk, but then reasoned, if it
hadn't harmed her, it probably wouldn't kill him.  His first taste made his
stomach churn, but then he realized that it didn't really have much taste
at all.  It was the idea of what he was doing that was bothering
him--eating his own come.  Well, he would gladly slurp up a lot worse if it
gave him the chance to explore her pretty body with his tongue.
   Once her cheeks were sparkling clean, he licked down her chin and her
neck to her tits.  He cleaned their spongy fullness, her nipples, and the
area between them.  His tongue continued down to her bellybutton, which had
not received any of the come, then farther still, until he reached the edge
of his panties.  His heart came to a complete standstill when he hooked his
fingers in the waistband.
   "Stop!"
   "Huh?"
   "Don't, please don't.  Not right now."
   "Why not?" he croaked.
   "I wouldn't have the power to resist you.  Not now--I'm too exited.  And
you wouldn't want something like that to happen, would you?"
   He stared at her, puzzled.  That was exactly what he wanted to happen.
And, if she wanted it too. . . .
   "Think, Studly.  If we do it now, I won't be a virgin for the slumber
party.  You wouldn't want that, would you?
   Shit!  He had forgotten all about that damn slumber party!
   "Besides, your sister will be home any minute now.  You wouldn't want
her to catch us messing around right here on the kitchen floor, would you."
   That got his attention.  He looked at the clock.  Five after seven. 
"Shit, Anne!  You're right!  Get your clothes on--you've got to get out of
here!"
   She started for the kitchen door, then stopped and turned back toward
him.  "It's not Anne any more," she said with a sweet smile.  "Remember?"
   "Huh?  Oh, yeah.  Pickles.  Hurry, Pickles, please!"
   Ten minutes later, Rory was stretched out on his bed.  He was still
naked.  His first genuine nudist experience had been very satisfactory. 
Very satisfactory indeed!  And he wasn't in any hurry to end it.  He would
have to, of course, for pizza.  But after that, he could return to his
bedroom and be naked all weekend long.  Molly certainly wouldn't miss his
presence, and neither would he miss hers.
   He stared down at his resting cock, slumbering comfortably between his
legs.  That thing had served him well, and later on--after the pizza--he
planned to return and relive every minute of the experience with his cock
in his hand.  In the meantime, he could satisfy himself with the magazine.
It wouldn't be as satisfactory an experience, but what the hell?  You
couldn't wear out your dick, could you?
   He reached under his pillow for Freddy's nudist magazine.  It wasn't
there.  Then he remembered.  He had left it downstairs.  He had forgotten
to clean up the table.  He started to get up.  If he hurried, he could
still--But just then, he heard the front door open and close downstairs. 
His sister was home.
   "Fuck!" he muttered.
  
What_Mom_and_Dad_Dont_Know_1.