Colin came back, and it was his turn now. Chinning his long lean bronzed body on a rung of the ladder, he laconically indicated that he'd have a Dare. Maryon could come up with no quick challenge and, the more she thought about it, the more the others grew restless. "Cmon, kid, hurry up," urged Sylvia, her hand gently kneading Maryon's knee. The young girl tried to think, even more confused now with the pressure on her. "Why don't you have him do what he did with you?" asked Sylvia, almost certainly thinking of the prolonged and surprisingly passionate kiss. But Maryon misread her and eagerly turned to Colin. "I dare you to climb up and down the ladder before I count twenty," she said. And, amid universal groans of disgust, the English boy easily heaved himself up to the top then came sliding smoothly down again, well within the count.
"Your go, Karen," he said. But the ponytailed girl shook her head. "I can't think of anything much," she said, boredom in her voice. "Let Derek go first, if he wants to."
"Hey, everybody," interjected Johnny, "I've just thought of a great forfeit for Maryon – remember she owes me one."
"Let's hear it, then," said Sylvia.
"Maryon, first you stand up on that bale of hay you're sitting on," said Johnny. When she'd done so, he continued: "Now, Karen, you put your top over her head so she can't see, and, Maryon, you're not to try to see, and you must stand there until we tell you it's all right, and you mustn't say anything, and you mustn't even move unless we tell you! Okay… the rest of you come over here a minute, and I'll tell you what we'll do."
Left alone, sightless, standing on the bale in her blouse and shoes and socks, Maryon fearfully wondered what they were going to do. Would they leave her alone there, while they went off and had some fun together, leaving her out of it? Her head was hot beneath the top, and in contrast she felt the coolness on her thighs and stomach. Patiently she waited.
But not for long. After a great deal of whispering and giggling from the far corner of the barn, she heard shuffling footsteps approaching, and then, shockingly, a pair of hands locked on her ankles and firmly but carefully pulled them apart until her neat black shoes just rested on the crumbly edges of the bale. "Put your hands behind your neck, Maryon," came someone's voice, and dutifully she did so, trusting they would not hurt her. She could hardly conceal a gasp as hands then took hold of the bottom of her blouse and began to roll it up until it snugly nestled about her waist. They could all see all of her!!! Instinctively she tried to press her thighs together but her spread-legged pose made this impossible. Something in her shrunk but, gamely, she bit her lip and let them do what they wanted with her. It was part of the game!
And now a multitude of hands seemed to be upon her skin, from knee to waist, sliding, stroking, tickling until she began to wriggle in frustration-bringing muted whistles of appreciation – kneading, cupping, fondling, gently probing, brushing at the tiny tuft of golden down, caressingly thumbing apart the suddenly hard rigid cheeks of her ass, circling about her navel. Standing behind her, some one of them cupped her knees, then slowly ran his or her fingers up the round firm columns of her legs, stroked her thighs until she shivered uncontrollably, moved inward to prise apart the bubbly pink lips of her now blossoming slit, inserted the tip of a cool finger into her, sending a strong shudder through her small body, then withdrew it to continue firmly up over her little mound of gold-fuzzed flesh, lightly across her belly, then paused to move back around her waist under the rolled-up hem of her blouse, thumbs and forefingers gripping her strongly while other fingers made small circles against the skin of her sides, at a spot just above her hipbones.
It was delightful! Her breath came quicker as the tormenting sensation seemed to spread out from the toying fingers to warm her whole body from head to toes. She moved a bit, beginning to roll her hips in the same rhythm, taken up with the sheer, consuming pleasure that flooded her tiny frame.
Then without warning the pair of hands flattened against her and slid themselves up under the front of her ruffled white silk blouse until they reached her child's buds of breasts. She could have cried at the realization that she was flatter-chested even than Karen, and mourned that she was not bigger up there. But the fondling hands didn't seem to care – she hoped they belonged to Colin. A thumb and finger each nipped at her nipples, which had long since hardened like pencil ends, and began to twist them about excitingly, tugging and pressing until she thought she would go mad. Between her legs, where now other hands caressed her, she felt damp… the numb tingling making her twitch involuntarily as though she had to take a piss but, better than that, as though she was full of Coke down there, seething and bubbling and sizzling, ready to burst out of her. But nothing ever did, only sometimes when Mike spent a lot of time on her, a funny-smelling milky stuff would ooze out.
The hands at her breasts began to gather up what slight satin flesh there was there and to squeeze! squeeze! squeeze! deliciously. And sneakily from behind, when she least expected it, a sharp-nailed probing finger scratched across the edges of her tight-held asshole and she sucked in her breath and threw her slender hips forward. Immediately another shock, for as the finger behind insinuated itself, wriggling, into her, she felt hot breath at the foot of her belly, a contact with bare-fleshed bone, a brush of hair on her stomach and something hot and wet and round forced its way into her groin. One of them was kissing her cunt!
A series of long, moist kisses breathed hot fire into now, and the finger behind forced her to thrust herself against the anonymous face. The lips on hers quivered deliberately, and then she thrilled as a wiry, writhing, slithery firm something parted her damp, sticky, unbearably sensitive pink little pads and bored boldly into her, while all the time the mouth clamped to her sucked about it.
This was something new… something wonderfully new! Mike had never sucked her like this, though he'd kissed her lower mouth as often as she'd munched on him. Why… this was even better than a finger! Unheeding of the sight she made, standing there in her shoes and long white socks, hips and belly thrusting and rolling, she let the blood sing in her ears and felt it coursing in icy, fiery rivers through her body till she felt faint and feverish.
Things ended abruptly. The questing mouth left her, the tongue took its last lick around inside, the finger popped out of her ass, and the upper hands, with a last, painful pinch at her nipples, reluctantly slid down her bare belly, thoughtfully pulling down the hem of her blouse on the way. Someone gave her a hearty smacking kiss on her silk-covered butt, and then the breathing and the hands and the giggles left her alone and withdrew. As her head cleared she heard them moving softly about her, and when, at last, Johnny said: "Okay, Maryon, you've paid your forfeit. Take that thing off and get down," and she'd shakily resumed her bristly seat, she saw them sitting quietly down on the floor as before, none of them looking at her.
Instead, Johnny, in rather a strained voice, told Derek to take over as Inquisitor. Wiping his hands on his Bermudas, the stocky thirteen-year-old took his place before them. "Karen?" he asked.
Hugging her shallow breasts, the black-haired girl, her green-blue eyes firmly fixed on her toes, said "DARE!" in a voice Maryon decided was oddly hoarse.
Her boyfriend looked pale and tense as he said: "Then I dare you to show us all whether you have more hair down there than Maryon."
"Oh, no; not just me!" came the quick response from Karen.
"Then you'll have to pay a forfeit," began Derek, but Colin cut in with a cooclass="underline" "Why not see if Sylvia wants a Dare, too, Derek."
As the boy looked inquiringly at the big girl in shorts, she nodded, licking her lips. "I'll take a Dare, too."