FicWad

kiss. Indignant and incensed, I told my mom, who called the school. Well, the
school official surmised that I was the one who had been the aggressor,
considering that one incident made me incorrigible. My mother decided to believe
them.
I can't totally blame my
Mum here, because in kindergarten at an alternate school I ran a "witch gang"
of girls who caught the lads for me to kiss. The teacher, the principal and my
parents thought we were horrid, but it was howling good enjoyment at the time.
But when a worse position arose two years after this fifth-grade kiss, it
never occurred to me to tell anyone because I'd burned an important bridge
Accidentally.
What happened is this: two
boys, Jack and Britt, ages 15 and 14, came to my house early one morning when I
was alone and still in my shortie pajamas. I'd opened the door because my
friend Peggy had just called to say she was coming over. (Jack was her
boyfriend, and Peggy liked to draw pictures of organs, presumably his. Drawing
them with her was another instance of curious indifference on my part.) Jack and
Britt had seen before, so although I was uneasy about it, I let them

in and started off to my room to get dressed. But they followed me down the
hall.
Jack grabbed me from
behind, wrestled me to the floor, place his hand between my legs and I froze at
that instant. Britt, standing over us, said, "Hey, she likes it!" I think my
Apparent and extreme mortification was what stopped it from going any farther.
But it went far enough to very effectively short circuit the connection between
my genitals and my brain for a long time. as soon as I lost my virginity, I had to inquire,
"Is it in yet?" and I don't think it was only the substantial amount of booze I Had
consumed that had numbed my senses.
A few years afterwards another
fifteen-year old lad attempted much the same matter with me, but this time on the
Pavement of a deserted street at night. Having already been desensitized,
literally, it was considerably less traumatic. Even better, I had the delight of
catching him myself, with just a little help, and presenting him to the police.
So, how in the world was I
Capable to become a fkk? Well, if nudity were predominantly sexual, or somehow
asexual or anti-sexual, or less than invigorating and joyful, I likely never
would have. And if I hadn't needed revolutionary change in my life I probably would
have gone on as I was, but more slowly. As it was, I contended and made progress.
By the time I was thirty,
I 'd finally overcome shame and frigidity to the point of having the ability to totally
Love sex, as long as my partner attested he could be trusted
unconditionally. This meant that sex had to be taken rather seriously. My first
marriage had failed, partially for sexual reasons, and in between was black. The
girl who ran witch gangs and experiments wrote dryasdust computer programs,
wore suits, talked little, and dreamed too often of spiders and 15-year-old boys
and their grins.
Well, I managed to locate
someone I could trust and adore, and did so for a couple of really happy years,
until he died unexpectedly of a heart attack. The despair overwhelmed me for quite a
while. And then a good friend -- a jolly, bearded man who arranged the
after-hours shifts of co-workers who babysat until I was ready to leave for my
empty house -- motivated me to visit a place in the Santa Cruz mountains called
"Getting In Touch." This was aa massage school and nudist escape, now defunct.
And this was where I began to recover, partly because I 'd to, and partly because
the surroundings made a start practically inevitable.
My first visit was for a
weekend massage workshop. I arrived early and there was no one available to show
me about or get me oriented. I was perfunctorily seen to the locker room
and invited to relax a while at the pool or hot tub. I think that not making a
big deal about it, assuming that I could manage getting naked in public for the
first time free of guidance, actually made it simpler than otherwise. I stripped
down, alone in the locker room, stepped out the door and Wham! Two blink of an eye
Wonders: no part of me was divided from another and the wind in my pubic hair
tickled deliciously! I wished right then that I hadn't made a point of having my
legs waxed, another new experience, the day before.
This felt so great, with no
intimation of shame whatsoever, it was simple to dare the next move. So I traveled
around the building and took the long, long walk across the lawn to reach the
pool. When I got there, I found one young man nearby in the hot tub, not
looking my way. So far so good. But then there was the problem of making the
transition from a standing posture to a reclining position on the lounge. And
not knowing what was satisfactory. I mean, there are rather inscrutable rules
about not showing some of our clothing -- our panties -- when we're dressed,
so perhaps there were equally inscrutable rules about not displaying some of our
bodies while nude.