We had separated, of course, before Billy and James came in. But we needn't have worried. They hurled themselves across the room on top of us, somehow stripped off the covers, and the next thing we knew their naked bodies were on top of ours and we were being tickled unmercifully.
We fought back, and all ended up so sweaty that we took one long, gorgeous shower. The difference in ages didn't matter, erections didn't matter; if we found an area of skin near us, we washed it. Mark led the way and washed his brother's willy, I washed James', then Mark's, then Billy's, and I'm not sure if we didn't each wash each other's.
At last we'd had enough, dried, and started talking properly.
"I told Billy we'd been having showers together," said James, "and he said that Mark did with him. So we thought we'd wake you up and do the same. That was fun!"
It was. But it'd have been even better with just Mark and me.
We were early for breakfast, and sat around until the others came in.
"We'd better get you back today," said the Doctor. "Your parents probably want to see you're OK. Anyway, we're on the mainland ourselves later as there's a visit we've got to make to some relatives. And I think the others are going visiting the countryside around too."
This was disappointing. I'd wanted to spend the day with Mark. He looked a bit downcast, too.
"Oh. Right," was all I could say.
It just happened that we got no time alone after that, Mark and me. Before I could turn round, it seemed, James and I had donned clothes and were being waved away from the jetty by the two families. I was trembling. I didn't know why. But all I could think of was when I'd see them all again. Oh, and Mark. I made so many mistakes on that trip that James asked if he could take over the helm, and I let him. He sailed all the way to the village, with me just obeying his commands of "Ready about!" like an automaton.
"You'd better take her," he said as we reached the bustle of boats around the village, and without a word I did so.
At the hotel we found that my parents had gone out, but had left a pleasant welcoming message with his who were in. He got a kiss: I got my message which amounted to the same thing, and a vote of thanks from his parents for being responsible and looking after their son so well. I reacted as I usually do.
They took James off to the village, shopping, and I was at a loose end. I went to my room and just lay there, wishing I was with them…I didn't even feel like giving myself the test. I felt empty — not hungry — just out of it and, well, empty. And slightly unwell.
I was woken by the door opening and Dad coming in.
"Hallo." He sat on my bed and looked at me. "Feeling a bit down?"
I nodded.
"It happens, specially after an adventure. Have a good time?"
"Yes. They're good fun. Mark particularly."
"I could see you were getting on well. Seems a nice chap, but then so did the rest of them."
"Mmm."
"Will you be seeing them again?"
"Yes. Well, I hope so. But not today. Both lots are off the island."
"Oh. Well, how about coming with us for a change? We're heading off to the castle."
"But I've been there, Dad."
"Yes, but not with jousting knights and fair maidens and a funfair."
"Oh. No. That's true."
"And the Evanses are coming."
"OK then."
"Good. Oh, and it's lunch time."
I hadn't realised I was hungry.
The afternoon was fun. It took my mind off things, and James was his usual irrepressible self. It took my mind off everything except Mark, and even he started to get into proportion. I'd see him again, wouldn't I?
He and I showered together as normal that night.
"Billy told me Mark was bigger than you."
"Well, he's older."
"Yeah. Bigger there." He patted my willy — gently, I'm glad to say. I jumped back.
"Like I said, he's older."
"And it shoots out spunk."
"WHAT?"
"It makes spunk when he wanks. Does yours?"
I looked at him, the water dribbling into my open mouth. I spat it out. "Did Billy tell you that?"
"Oh yes. He does it too. He says it feels good. He got me to try, but it didn't work."
I was still speechless. The trouble was, my willy was making up for any silence on my mouth's part.
"Shall I try again now?"
"When did Billy see Mark do it?"
"Oh, most nights. When they're in the shower or the bath."
"And Mark's shown Billy how to do it to himself?"
"Yes. And Billy's shown me. When he did it, he went all silly for a bit. But he didn't make any spunk. He says that only happens when you're older."
"Oh."
"Shall I show you how to do it?"
"No."
"Don't you want to know?"
"I already do."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I…er…I didn't know you wanted to know."
"Me and Billy did it together. Shall we do it together?"
"I…er…"
"It's very easy. Look."
And without any embarrassment he took hold of himself and started pumping, slowly at first until his little erection had blossomed, then faster, more surely. I just watched, amazed.
He looked at me. "Aren't you going to? Or shall I do it for you?"
"You'll be telling me that you did it for Billy."
"Oh yes, for a bit. And he did me. It felt funny, so we swapped back."
Tentatively he reached over to me and grasped, then, again gently, he started on me…
What do I do? Do I let myself be wanked by a nine year old? Do I wank off this nine year old, and perhaps give him his first sensation? Do I do what I know I should and stop us both?
"No," I said weakly. "You do you and I'll do me."
"All right," he said cheerfully.
I didn't want to go too fast, because I wanted so much to see what happened when he got there. So I kept stopping and starting, and altering rhythm so as to delay. It took a long time. Twice I thought I felt it was starting, so I stopped completely and did something else, like scratch my bottom.
The second time it happened I could see something was happening to him. His eyes were closed and he was breathing fast and deep, his head thrown back as if his back was arching, a look of absolute concentration on his face. Then suddenly…
"Oh……Oh…Oh……"
His knees crumpled and the back arched further. He'd have fallen forward if I hadn't caught him under the arms and lowered him to the floor of the shower. The spasms were quick and few, but their effect on him was obviously incredibly deep. Quickly his body finished reacting and slowly he settled back on his heels, the back straightening, the chin returning to normal. For a full minute, it seemed, he was in a half faint, half trance, then the eyes opened and looked slowly up.
"Oh…Martin. Was that it?"
At that moment if anybody had mentioned Mark, I'd have asked 'who?' Once again I felt as though this little boy was my responsibility, my care, my joy, my pupil. My pupil who had just done something which was so right for him that I didn't have to give congratulations. My boy, who I loved as a father. A father? No, fathers don't teach their sons that. What could I be, then? Brother? Elder brother? I'd come to that conclusion before.
"Yes," I said. "That's it."
"Wow."
His breathing settled down, and he rose, unsteadily.
"I'm going to do that again."
"You won't be able to until your body's recovered."
"What d'you mean?"
"You have to wait an hour or more before it'll work again."
"Why?"
"Dunno. You just do."
"What happens if you try?"
"It doesn't work."
"Oh. Are you going to do it now?"
"I was doing it when you collapsed."
"I know."
So I started again. With having only just stopped to let him go first so I could watch, and then the sight if my little brother's first time, it took only a couple of minutes. As it came, I felt as good as I usually do, but was surprised to feel something warm, something different from shower water, land on my belly. As soon as I was able, as things began to die down, I looked.
And there it was.
My first bit of white stuff. Spunk, James had been told to call it.
As I watched, more trickled out and lay in a pool at the top of my willy, before dripping down the side.
I stopped the actions, it all subsided, and my first seed was washed away by the shower.
"Wow," said James again. "Is that spunk?"
"Yes," I managed.
"You didn't say you could make it too."
He'd just shared a big part of his growing up with me. I just had to do the same.
"That was the first time."
"The first time you wanked?"
"No, the first time I've made spunk."
"Wow." He paused. "Then that's two firsts. One for you and one for me."
"Yes." I smiled at him happily, loving my little brother with all my heart. "Yes, it is."
We dried. He dressed. He went to bed. So did I. Full of the events of the last two nights which had been capped by what happened just now. It was so sweet, James' fist time, and it was so satisfying, my first seed. And Mark, and all…
I slept well.
It was inevitable that he also woke me in the morning. The door opened quietly, but it woke me, and the next thing he was burrowing into my bed, stark naked as usual, pushing his body chilled by the run downstairs against my warm one and making me protest.
"Thought you liked me here."
"You're cold."
"I was before I got in."
"You're making me cold."
"You'll get warm soon."
It was also inevitable that I had a morning stiffness about me, about which I could do nothing. Well, I could, but it didn't seem the time then.
He lay there for a while, getting warm. I thought about him last night, about Mark the night before, and wondered what I was doing. When was I going to find a girl who attracted me, or who I attracted?
It was also inevitable that we went sailing again. I asked my parents if we could sleep on the island again, but they weren't keen. I knew how best to persuade them over something, and didn't push it. You ask one day and accept the result. You ask more keenly the next day, and really push hard. And if the result's the same, that's it. Nothing will work and you'll have to do it without them knowing.
So we went to the island, and hung around lazily — wearing nothing, of course — and still they didn't appear.
"Shall we go over there?" asked James, hopefully.
"Perhaps they don't want us."
"Why?"
"Dunno. Perhaps they aren't even there today."
We kept on looking for approaching boats, not just to see if it was them, but to ensure we were out of the way if it was full of strangers. We'd had lunch, when at last a boat put out from their island, and although we hid we were pretty certain it was one of them. It was Joe and Hannah.
"We've been wondering if you've gone off us!" exclaimed Hannah as soon as they were in earshot. "We thought you'd come over first thing if you could. It was only when Mark used his binoculars to check that we saw you on the beach. Don't you want to come over?
"We didn't know if we were invited," I said. "But yes, we hoped we could."
"Of course you're invited. Any time you want, so long as we're there. Come on, get your boat and follow us. We've got something special going on this afternoon."
"What?" asked James.
"You'll see. You can join in. In fact you might be able to, too, Martin."
"What is it?"
"I'm not telling. Come on!"
And with that they were off.
We got a great welcome. In fact I felt silly knowing that we'd waited on the other island all morning. They called us all together, all those under about 18, and started to explain about the competition. It was very simple: who could devise the most clever, the best looking, the most intricate, the most effective, the best applied, scheme of body painting. There were four groups, up to 7, 8-11, 12-15, 16-18.
To cut a long discussion short, about whether or not I, at fourteen, wanted to go in for a competition like that, I got Mark, Billy got James, and the others were also suitably paired up. Ralph was particularly lucky, I thought: he got a very good looking girl of fifteen who seemed very attached to him. I wondered why we'd not seen much of him during the time we'd been together. As he was my age, I was quite jealous. But although she was good looking, I really didn't find her, well, sort of WOW-attractive.
Mark did the design, I'm glad to say, as I had no experience at all. I was going to be a tiger. The face was quite intricate, and tickled a lot when he was doing the fine lines. The chest was OK except being painted under the arms. The abstract patterns up the legs were OK too, but when he got to the top of the thighs and started staring me straight in the willy…well, it's difficult when your canvas will neither stay still nor stay the same size. We both burst out laughing, and as he tried to paint it it tickled so much I nearly fell over. He painted my bottom, too, and held the cheeks apart whilst the bristles tickled me there. I wriggled like fury to get away from him, but he held me still and persisted. He painted right between the two bits of my bum, right up to the hole, or at least it felt like it. And it had really given me a hard willy.
"There!" he exclaimed as the brush finally stopped its torture. He stood back.
"Gosh, that's good. You're going to win tonight."
"You mean we're going to win. You painted me."
"Yeah, all right. But that'll be a first."
"How many times have you done this?"
"Oh, a few. But nobody else has wanted to stand still with me like you have. Most of them didn't want their willy painted, or their bum, and as most of them were a year older than me they started getting fidgety when I got to the top of their thighs."
"Should I have done?"
"No! that's what made it possible. You were great. I expected your willy would be difficult, but I managed 'cos you didn't mind."
"You've touched it before."
"Shhh!"
"There's no one here."
"I know. But don't go telling everybody. That's our secret."
I thought. My tree of thought branched.
"What am I going to do about this?" I pointed to my still hard erection, which he had painted pure black.
"Don't touch it. If you do it'll come off."
"But I can't get judged with it stiff!"
"It won't be by then."
"How do you know?"
"It won't, that's all."
"But I've got to be back by seven!"
"Seven? But I thought you were here for the evening."
"No. I tried, but Mum said I'd got to be back."
"But the competition isn't judged 'til six."
"I won't get back in time."
"Can't you phone again?"
"The weather's perfect, though."
"But if you explain…"
"No. If I do, they'll never let me back here for a night, which is what I want."
"Why?"
I didn't answer.
"Do you want us to play again?"
It was a direct question. I'd hoped he already knew the answer. I nodded.
"Oh."
We made our way in silence back to the main building. Sure enough, by the time I got there I had deflated a bit. As I went in, all eyes were on me, and one or two exclamations were heard. I'm not used to being admired, and for the first time on the island I started to feel naked. And naked in public, too. Which, as I was hidden by paint, was illogical. I was glad to join the rest, even if their congratulations were rather too energetic.
"We were beginning to wonder what you two were up to," said Mrs Rogers. "I can see, now."
Her son looked at her strangely, but there was nothing in her face to show any problem.
"The trouble is, Mum, they don't start judging the competition until six, and Martin and James have to be back and dressed for dinner at seven-thirty."
"Oh!" She looked genuinely distressed. "And it's such a good effort, too. Can't we get your group judged first?"
"They might," said the Doctor. "I'll ask. Or I could try phoning your parents again."
"I don't think it'd work, sir," I said. "I already asked this morning if I could stay. And I couldn't."
"Well, I wouldn't want to go against that," he said. "But I'll try to arrange an early judging."
He managed that. And sharp on six o'clock Mark's and my age group was called.
The painted ones had to walk up onto the stage, go slowly across, turn, go to centre stage and turn right round, then walk to the steps we'd come up, and join the others there in a line.
I was second on, and by this time my knees were shaking. How could I, a normal boy, get onto a stage and show off my naked body to an audience, naked though they were too? I had reckoned without Mark. He more or less pulled me to my feet and marched me to the bottom of the steps.
"Good luck," he whispered. I thought he was going to kiss me.
A bit shakily I climbed onto the stage and walked as slowly as my embarrassment would allow to the other side. As I turned, I felt that something was happening to me, something that had been happening to me for months since I was half way through being thirteen.
I was getting stiff.
I almost stumbled where I was. What could I do? Get it over with? Leap off the stage? Run to the boat and home?
Very deliberately I walked to the middle of the stage, getting stiffer all the time. I turned, as required, first to show the back view, then very quickly the front, then turned and walked back the way I'd come. Yet even then I couldn't hide it. If I turned toward the audience they'd see, yet waiting at the bottom of the steps was a girl who was on next, and at the beginning of the line was a boy who was looking at me and grinning.
No way out. Fuck it, I suddenly thought if they want to see me in rampant mode, they can. I was now at full stretch, and I wobbled my way over to stand beside the first boy, whose own willy was also starting to react, I was glad to say.
One by one they came up. Nobody else got stiff, and mine went down as quickly as it had come up.
I won. Mark joined me on stage to accept the applause, then we went down to our seats and to more applause and congratulations.
They judged James next. He didn't win.
"Can you stay for the parade?" the Doctor asked. The clock said 6.50. If it had been just me getting into trouble I'd have agreed, but it was the scantily designed James as well. They had almost decided not to enter him, 'cos the brush had tickled him so much every line on him was a disaster. But then he'd apparently been in hysterics all afternoon, and at one time had even relieved himself without wanting to, leaving a wet streak down one leg. And this itself had fuelled the laughter…
I had to go. With him. We found the public showers, and helped by Mark and Billy we got the paint off. The rubbing, though, caused the usual problem, and getting back into my fairly tight old shorts was a bit awkward and painful.
By the time we'd got back, apologised, changed and apologised again we were only twenty minutes late.
Popularity was not ours, though. I didn't ask about staying overnight on the island. There's a time and a place…
"I'm tired," said James, after about an hour of cards and chat in the hotel lounge. His parents looked at him in surprise.
"It's not late, darling," said his mother. "Are you feeling all right?"
"Yes. Just tired. It's wonderful being on the island, but quite tiring. It'd be nice if we could stay."
"Well, you can't really. I mean, an emergency is one thing, but to inflict yourself onto someone else is wrong."
"But they've told us that we can if we want."
"Then they're very nice. But anyway, it mainly depends on Martin and his parents."
"But they'd let him if you let me. He's older than me, and he looks after me."
She smiled. "I know he does, and I'm very grateful, and very glad you're both having such a good time. But what he does is up to his parents, not to your father and me."
Mum had been listening. "It's not so much that he'd be away from us, Doreen, it's just that we've paid for his room and everything here, and it seems such a waste if he doesn't use it."
"That's true, Mary. I hadn't thought of it that way. But at least we'd not be paying anything extra if they did sleep over there."
"Hmm. Yes. I hadn't thought of it that way."
I could see that she was being swayed without my doing anything.
"And it would stop us worrying about them being late back." Oops. I thought she'd forgotten that. Dad laughed.
"How would it be if we spoke to Doctor what's-his-name…"
"Rogers." I put in.
"Dr. Rogers or his wife and checked it out with them."
I got up hurriedly, mumbled something like "Excuse me," and left the room. Safely out of their hearing I let the tears of laughter run down my face as I hugged myself, shaking. The picture had entered my mind of my mother chugging her way to the island, to be met by a naked Doctor Rogers and his wife and naked children. It wasn't so much that, but the look that would be on her face as she tried to look somewhere other than at them.
When I recovered, I returned to see an animated James talking to my parents. He was telling them that we'd try to get one of the parents, the Rogers' or the Camerons, to come over and talk to them.
"Or we could take Dad over to the island," I said hopefully.
"I think it'd be better to ask them to visit us," said my father, quickly.
"OK. I'll ask tomorrow."
And with that we went upstairs. Yes, it was early. Yes, I was entitled to stay up far longer than James. But I'd come to regard us both as the same age, in some respects. Anyway, I wanted to be there so we could shower together as usual. It just seemed right.
"That's good," he said as we sat on my bed.
"What, getting permission to sleep over there?"
"Yes."
"You did that well."
"It was by accident, really."
"Good accident."
"What made you go off suddenly?"
I thought back and remembered, and told him.
"I wonder what my parents would do," he thought.
"Probably faint."
He giggled.
"Will you be sleeping with Mark again?"
"I hope so," I said without thinking.
"What's wrong with me?"
I did a mental stumble.
"Oh, nothing…nothing. But I can sleep with you any time."
"Until we go home."
Damn. I'd forgotten that he wasn't actually my young brother, that we had to go our separate ways.
"I know, but you can sleep with Billy."
"He snores."
"Well, pinch his nose, then."
"I do. He shuts up for a bit, then starts again."
"Oh."
"And I like being with you."
There was no answer to that. I like being with him. But it was different from the charged atmosphere with Mark.
"Look," I said desperately. "When we're on the island I'll share with Mark, and when we're here I'll share with you, if you want."
"Every night?"
I sighed. The end of peaceful mornings and waking up slowly.
"Every night, if you want."
"And tonight?"
"All right."
He bounced up and down. I had to like him, despite my reservations about mornings.
We were just getting undressed to have a shower when there was a knock at the door. I hastily pulled my shorts up again. James was already in pants.
"Come in," I called. It was mum.
"Hallo. Sorry to interrupt, but I need to speak to Martin. I was going to in here, but I can see that's a bit awkward. Can I borrow him for a moment, James?"
He grinned at her.
She laughed and ruffled the boy's hair as we passed. We went down the spiral staircase to the hotel's corridor, and found two chairs.
"I've been talking to your father."
"Oh?"
"He's been telling me about when you took him to that nudist island."
"Oh."
"I was a bit surprised that you could even take off your clothes in public. And that he could. I mean, you won't in front of us normally, and we're your parents."
I looked uncomfortable. "It's…different, somehow." Something else obvious struck me. "And anyway, you and Dad are never naked when I'm going to bed."
"I should think not."
"Well, everybody is on the island."
"But to suggest that your father and I should be naked in front of you…"
"I'm not. But you think that I shouldn't mind being naked in front of you."
"But we're your parents."
"What difference does it make?"
A pause. "Martin, that's very hurtful. We're family. I gave you birth. I've seen your body grow all these years. And it's just wrong that now you're getting older you hide it away when we could be so helpful if it's not growing right."
"But it is. And yes, I'm getting older. I don't like my body being looked at by people who aren't themselves undressed."
She thought for a moment.
"Well, what I came to tell you was what Dad and I were talking about." A pause. "You see, when you were on the island together, he did see you naked, obviously. And he's said that there's nothing wrong with you at all, that your body is completely normal. And…"
Another pause.
"He says that he can state definitely that I was wrong the other day."
I thought back. What was she talking about? It was obviously embarrassing her.
"When I said what I did about puberty and you."
"Oh…that." The smarting humiliation came back to me.
"Yes, that. Darling, I shouldn't have said it. I realise how tactless it was of me, now. And in front of others, too. But the main thing was, that I was wrong, as your father pointed out."
"What do you mean?"
"You've more than started. You're going through it."
"Mother…!"
"Yes, I know, I've embarrassed you again. But at least this time it's just us, and I am apologising to you. I really am sorry. I should have known better, and shouldn't have had to be told so by your father. But I promise you it's all just between you, me and Dad now. Nobody else. All right?"
I nodded. I was still embarrassed, but it was a family embarrassment, not a public humiliation. And that was acceptable. Just.
We kissed and I returned to the bedroom. He was in the shower, luxuriating in the hot water. Suddenly I felt at one with the world. I undressed quietly, got in the shower behind him and just started by putting my hands over where his tits would be if he had any. He looked round quickly, to make sure it was me, then just laid back against me, trustingly. All my feelings for him came back.
We exercised ourselves in the shower, and both enjoyed it. To my delight my body proved that the previous night hadn't been a one-off, and that I really had started my sexual career. And once again I watched James' body jerking with the sensations which were still so new to him, and thrilled him deeply, and made him want more, and make me wish, somehow, I could be a part of it for him.
He didn't bother going to his room.