Mrs. Burns

By NAMB

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This story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced nudity, spanking, and/or sexual activity of preteen and young teen children. This is fantasy, and the author in no way endorses or practices these things on real life. If you are not of legal age in your community to read or view such material, please leave now.
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Mrs. Burns

A feel-good piece about some boys and girls learning the facts of life from an older woman.

It’s rather hard on you when you are a boy in a house full of girls for the whole summer.

My parents used to take my sister and me to a boarding house at the beach for the summer. Most of the time it was the same families renting the same rooms for the same weeks every year, so it was sort of a home away from home. We were fortunate enough to stay the whole summer.

This all happened in the summer of 1963. That was the summer that we got to know Mrs. Burns, the lady who lived next door to the place we were staying.

The owner of the house in which we were staying had three daughters, Donna (13), Helen (11) and Arlene (8), and a son, Timmy, who was about a year older than me. Being the only other boy in the house and older, I sort of followed his lead. By some quirk of fate, most of the other families renting the rooms consisted of girls, girls and more girls: Dorothy (9), Mandy (10) and Nancy (13) and of course my sister Carol who was 11.

We went to the beach every day and that occupied most of the day, but there were rainy days and even a good part of sunny days when all us kids would be hanging around with nothing to do. With 9 kids all more or less the same age, it was natural that we play games together.

Donna and Nancy were unofficially put in charge of us younger kids. After all, they had just graduated grade school so it was natural that they take on some of the “babysitting” routines. They were the ones who got to take us to the beach in the morning. Our moms usually joined us about lunch time and went home early to catch some soap operas and start dinner. The adults kind of liked the idea of having surrogate mothers around since it relieved them of child care responsibilities. We younger children had to listen to the older girls or we’d have to answer to our mothers.

For the most part, the girls were nice to us. They weren’t too bossy, and they were more interested in the boys at the beach.

When it came to afternoon or evening play. Donna and Nancy dominated the group of us kids and decided what games we would play. Mostly this was “girl play.” The girls didn’t exclude us from their play, but it was generally boring stuff.

Sometimes the girls would play cards or various board games. These weren’t so bad, but the girls were seldom in the mood to play them. Timmy and I got so desperate we actually joined the girls in some of their games: at least the ones that weren’t so obviously girlish. Although often pressed into duty to turn the ropes, we never recited the silly rhymes the girls chanted as they jumped.

This was the summer we got to know Mrs. Burns. Mrs. Burns was always a friendly neighbor. There wasn’t even a need to go into the street to get to her house; there was a gate in the fence between her yard and the house we stayed in.

Mrs. Burns was unusual for a woman of her time. She worked. She was a teacher at an all-girls school, but I couldn’t relate to that. All my teachers were nuns. Anyway, at 9 years of age, teachers cease to exist outside the classroom. They were mythical creatures that weren’t real people.

Mrs. Burns favored the girls and as they grew older took an interest in them. She taught a morning class in summer school and when she got home, she invited the girls to “teas.”

At first our parents seemed concerned that the girls were imposing on Mrs. Burns by spending almost every day over at her house, but as she explained it, “I think I’m doomed to be an old spinster. I’ll probably never have children of my own, so the girls are not a problem at all. They are a blessing. If it’s OK with you, I’d like to enjoy their company. Everyone needs someone they can make a fuss over. In a way, they make me feel like a little girl myself.”

I never got why Mrs. Burns thought she’d be an old spinster; she was a very good looking woman. That is, for someone who might be over 30. She seemed to be as old as our parents. For an over-the-hill adult, she was not bad looking.

I also caught some of the conversation with a couple of our moms which I don’t think I was intended to hear. Mrs. Burns lowered her voice and said, “I’m a bit concerned about your girls. Nancy and Donna are beginning to take an interest in boys and the other girls are questioning them about them. From their answers, I can tell that your girls are quite naïve and perhaps a bit misinformed about … how do I put this? Things that can happen between girls and boys.”

My mom interrupted, “I’ve been meaning to have that talk with Carol, but it’s kind of embarrassing and she’s still too young.”

“Not at all,” Mrs. Burns replied, “Girls need to learn these facts about themselves before things happen to them. They need to know about boys so they know the possible dangers there.”

Nancy’s mom laughed, “My mom didn’t tell me anything. I had to figure it all out on my own. If it weren’t for an older cousin, I would have been totally clueless. Even then she got some things wrong.”

“What about Arlene?” her mother asked. “She’s only 8. She still plays with dolls. Isn’t that too young?”

“For some 8 year olds, yes, but not your Arlene; she’s very mature. Having older sisters does that to a girl. She sort of grows up by association. Donna and Helen are going to share ‘secrets’ with their younger sister. That’s just the way sisters are. So she might as well get her facts straight from an adult.”

“Dorothy is 9. I don’t even think she knows what a boy looks like.”

“Don’t be so sure. Girls have friends and friends have younger brothers. Also boys aren’t always modest about where they pee. She probably knows, but is still confused as to why boys have penises and she doesn’t.”

There was a slight tittering and a lot of blushing when Mrs. Burns mentioned the word “penis.” Even I didn’t know it was called that!

“So what do we do?” Mandy’s mom asked.

“For starters be prepared to answer your daughter’s questions honestly. Put aside for a moment that she is your child and be prepared to talk to her as a woman. Don’t give her more information than she asked for, but do be honest. Make sure that she understands that she can always come to you with these questions and that you will listen and keep it just between you two.

Believe me; it will be tougher for you than it is for her. Children are naturally curious, and the questions will probably be more out of a quest for knowledge than of a truly sexual nature.”

“And then what?”

“Well, if you trust me, I can teach the girls. First of all, I have their confidence. Secondly – and don’t take this the wrong way – I am not their mom, but I will encourage them to come to you with their questions. Finally, I’m trained to do this. I teach at an all-girls’ school. I have girls from ages 6 to 14 as students. They are in all stages of development. It’s a private school, so we teach sex education unlike the religious schools your children attend.”

“Sex education? Isn’t that controversial?”

“We teach them about sex, not how to have sex! Knowledge is power. This will keep your girls from getting into trouble. They need to know the effects they have on boys and men – yes men. Not all grandfatherly types look at young girls with chaste eyes. You daughters need to know how to avoid these situations, and how to deal with these situations to protect themselves.”

“I’m in,” Nancy’s mom said.

With some encouragement, the other moms also agreed.

“So how do we proceed?”

“Just let the girls attend my teas and I’ll handle the rest.”

I was wondering about what this conversation meant, but since it involved the girls, I kind of just let it go.

At first Timmy and I were unconcerned that the girls had tea with Mrs. Burns, but after a while we noticed that the pool of kids to play with dropped to just us two during “tea time.” Also it wasn’t fair that the girls were learning something and we weren’t.

Then we found out that it wasn’t really “tea” after all. It was ice tea, sandwiches, cookies and all other manner of good things. It didn’t sound as stuffy as we thought it was. We wanted in.

The girls were in it for the sophistication and the feeling of being grown up. We were in it for the food. The girls even changed out of their shorts, T-shirts and Keds in favor of blouses, skirts and “Sunday” shoes to attend.

The girls’ attendance at the teas meant that we had nobody to play with. Nancy and Donna might be girls, but they usually had good ideas on games to play and often “refereed” for us younger kids.

So we did what all good boys do when faced with a problem like this. We surrendered. We asked Mrs. Burns if we could join the teas. She said that the teas were for girls only and that meant if we wanted to attend we’d have to wear a skirt. All the girls giggled at that.

I think Mrs. Burns intended the remark to scare us off.

Donna and Helen whispered together and then both of them said something into Mrs. Burns’ ear. Miss Burn’s face had a funny smile but she turned to them and said, “Just this once until I can talk to your moms. In the mean time we’ll keep it a secret.”

“Keep what a secret?” I asked.

“Putting you boys in skirts. If you want to stay at the tea, you have to be a girl and girls wear skirts,” Helen said. It wasn’t quite true. Most of the time, the girls there wore shorts, just like Timmy and me. OK, so they were pink or powder blue and some of them had lacy trim on them, but they were short pants. However, they did dress up for tea.

“What about the boys?” Carol asked, “They’ll tell.”

“No they won’t.” Nancy replied. “If you were a boy would you go around bragging that you wore a skirt at a girls’ tea party?”

The next thing I know, Timmy and I are standing in the middle of Miss. Burns’ room as the girls ran back next door bringing different articles of clothing. It was actually quite innocent this first time. Neither Timmy nor I stripped down to less than our underpants. They revealed less than our very tight bathing suits.

I wound up in Donna’s blouse and Helen’s skirt. Timmy wore an outfit of my sister’s. Each of us were topped off with Sunday hats (all women and girls wore them in church at the time).

The girls giggled at Timmy and me as we slowly transformed our gender. Even with complete outfits, we still looked very much like boys. “I know,” Mrs. Burns said, “They need some makeup!”

That announcement really excited the girls who were just beginning to experiment with makeup themselves. None of them were old enough to wear it outside except for very special occasions yet.

Mrs. Burns “dolled us up” while the girls watched and giggled.

The very final touch was the earrings. In those days few women had pierced ears, so all earrings had the screw back to them. Which was just as well since Timmy and I weren’t pierced.

We were rechristened Tammy and Glenda and were marched off to the “parlor” as Mrs. Burns called her living room, to join the tea.

I wasn’t as much fun as I hoped it would be. We just sat there – way too still for me -- and talked about shopping and clothes. The sandwiches weren’t peanut butter and jelly and they were really small and even the cookies were kind of fancy and they were served up on a plate all decorated and laid out. And we weren’t sitting at a table, but had real cloth napkins on our laps with a little tray and you couldn’t just grab a sandwich but had to wait for someone to bring the big tray to you so you could take one and as we learned only one at a time. But the food was delicious and Mrs. Burns let us have seconds, provided we asked politely and always added “please.”

The girls also criticized the way we sat. We had to keep both feet on the floor, crossed at the ankles and knees off to the side. It took a while to get used to sitting like this. I was told it was a “lady like” pose.

When it was all over and Timmy and I were dressed back in our boy clothes, Mrs. Burns asked, “So how did you children like it?”

Timmy and I came out with a, “It was OK,” while the girls were enthusiastic. “Thank you very much Mrs. Burns. We really enjoyed the tea.”

“You didn’t mind the boys being here?” Mrs. Burns asked.

Donna spoke up, “Actually it was kind of fun. They looked cute in their dresses. And so well behaved. I never saw Timmy so well-mannered.”

Carol said, “I like my brother this way. He could turn out to be a real gentleman.”

I protested, “It was fun, but I didn’t like being dressed like a girl. The food was good, but I’m not sure I want to play like this anymore.”

“Me neither,” Timmy said backing me up.

“Oh, come on boys,” Nancy said, “It’s just a little harmless fun. Nobody’s getting hurt. Besides, it will be a secret. Just us girls will know about it and we’re not going to tell anybody.”

“It was OK for once,” I said, “But I’m not doing it again.”

“Suit yourself,” Donna said. “If you don’t want to play with us, we don’t want to play with you.”

Mrs. Burns kept out of it. “I’ll let you children decide. The boys are welcome here if they choose to come. Let me talk to your mothers about it.”

Timmy and I resisted, and a battle of the sexes ensued.

The girls were united against us. Even my sister sided with the other girls. None of them would play with us even when they weren’t playing “girl games.” Our parents noticed and commented, “Let the boys play,” but even then they were merely going through the motions with us.

When we played tag, none of them would try to tag us. They wouldn’t call us out if we messed up on Simon Says. They wouldn’t talk with us while playing cards or a board game.

It only took a couple of days, and Timmy and I were bored beyond endurance. It was turning out to be the worst summer in history. We never before appreciated how much the girls were part of our lives.

Timmy offered the girls our surrender. He went to his eldest sister and told her, “OK, you win. We’ll go to the teas.”

She gave both him and me a kiss on our cheeks, “I knew you’d see it our way. Don’t take it so bad. It will be fun. Mrs. Burns and the other girls and me talked about the fun things we could do together at the teas. You boys will have fun; you’ll see.”

It seemed that in our absence, quite a bit of discussion had been going on between the girls and Mrs. Burns. It was decided that merely attending the teas and putting on girls clothing was not enough. The girls decided that we also be trained to act like proper young ladies.

This idea suited Mrs. Burns. She was, after all, a teacher at a girl’s school and had experience transitioning young girls into young ladies. She considered it a challenge to convert a couple of unruly boys into civilized young debutants.

“Remember, a lady is always properly attired for a tea.” Mrs. Burns said.

And it was true. My sister and the other girls bugged our moms to take them shopping so they could buy outfits just to wear to the teas.

Mrs. Burns always dressed in a proper outfit too: usually a white blouse, black A-line skirt and heels. She had her hair pulled back into a bun. Along with her glasses, she had quite the matronly look to her, yet she projected an air of feminine authority. It was her house and she was an adult, so she should be in charge.

She apparently did some shopping during our brief stay away from the teas. No longer were Timmy and I borrowing our sisters’ or other girls’ outfits. Mrs. Burns bought girls clothes of our own to wear. They still had the store tags on them, and she did a good job guessing our sizes since they fit perfectly. There were even two pair of patent-leather Mary Janes to wear over our white socks topped with lacy trim.

The outfits even came with a couple of wigs. Boys of that era didn’t wear their hair long. The Beatles were still in a year yet to come. Timmy got a blonde wig and mine was brunette. They made us look sort of like Betty and Veronica of Archie comic book fame.

Even though we had been in skirts and blouses before, this was a major step. This was no longer a one-time thing with borrowed clothes. We now had feminine clothing of our own, and the girls delighted in dressing us in them. In addition to makeup, the girls also took turns styling our wigs.

These new clothes also made me feel a bit funny. They were *my* clothes. They didn’t belong to some girl, they belonged to me. Well, technically, they belonged to Mrs. Burns but they were specifically bought for me and that made me feel kind of special.

Now that Mrs. Burns and the other girls had us looking like girls, they had to teach us how to act like girls. We had to learn how to walk like a girl, talk like a girl (mostly use our “inside voice” and to lace our conversations with a lot of “please” and “thank you”), and even sit like a girl. Crossing one’s legs was acceptable only at the ankles. Propping one foot on top of the other knee in a “figure 4” was not acceptable when wearing a skirt.

We also learned table manners and how to place our napkins and how to use the various utensils. I was not used to so many forks. While I wasn’t as crude as to use the sleeve of my shirt to wipe my mouth, I always used a napkin to do so, but it was a rubbing, swiping motion. Now I was told to “blot” away any food that might wind up on my lips.

Swallowing a piece of cake whole was no longer allowed, nor was gulping down the ice tea in a single swig. Small bites and small sips were the girlish way to eat food.

We were not only taught how to do these things, but we were evaluated on them. The girls called us on every lapse. If we needed improvement or needed to be shown a better way to act feminine, Mrs. Burns would show us what to do. More often, she delegated one of the girls to instruct us. She did this so that the girls would gain confidence by teaching us boys how to behave.

It was OK taking corrections from Mrs. Burns. She was an adult woman and a teacher. However, taking instructions from the girls was uncomfortable. Donna and Helen were always in charge when we played, so they weren’t so bad, but getting taught a lesson by the two younger girls was a particularly bitter pill to swallow.

Mrs. Burns put it in perspective for us, “Listen to her. She may be younger than you, but she has a lot more experience being a girl than you do.”

As the first week went on, the girls stopped thinking of us as boys and more like little sisters that needed training in the feminine arts. Even Dorothy who was my age and Arlene who was a year younger thought of us as “little sisters.”

My own sister, Carol, did a good job balancing her act. I was her younger brother outside of tea time, but her younger sister when dressed for the part. As the older sibling, she had always been a little bossy. As her younger brother, I resisted. As her younger sister, I accepted her authority.

During the first week, the changes in our appearance was all external. That is, Timmy and I were allowed to keep our boy underwear and don girl clothes over them. The following week we were issued panties and training bras.

This presented a problem: we would have to get naked in front of the girls to change into them.

Mrs. Burns explained it this way, “There’s nothing to be ashamed about boys. You are as God made you. You’re just little boys and you don’t need to be so modest. You are among friends here. The girls love and trust you. Here she turned to the girls and asked, “Don’t you?”

All the girls responded with vigorous nods and variations on “Yes, Mrs. Burns.” They did not seem at all shocked at the prospect of seeing naked boys. Mrs. Burns must have prepared them.

I was still unconvinced. Carol stepped up to Miss Burn’s defense, “Come on Glenda (using my girl name). I’ve seen you before. I even helped mom change your diapers when we were younger. I’m sure the Heller sisters have seen Tammy’s (using his girl name) thing before.”

“Penis,” Mrs. Burns corrected, “It’s called a penis. You girls need to learn the proper terminology.”

Mrs. Burns then turned to us boys and asked, “Is it true? Have your sisters seen you?”

I stammered, “Yes, but she’s older.” as if that mitigated the circumstances somehow.

Timmy replied, “It’s impossible not to. We all live in the same house. I got to see Arlene naked.”

“That was a long time ago,” his sister complained, “You haven’t seen me since I started school.”

“Let’s not fight over that. These things happen. It’s natural and nothing to be ashamed of.” Mrs. Burns put in. She then directed the question to the other girls. “Have any of you seen boys naked?”

Nancy piped up immediately, “Of course I have. I’ve done some babysitting with my cousin and I help our neighbor with her son. I’ve given him a bath even.”

Dorothy admitted, “My friend Ginny and I saw some little boys make pee.”

Mandy said, “I think so. When I was very little. I don’t remember much about it.”

“Well, there you go,” Mrs. Burns said, “None of you girls are going to see something you haven’t seen before. You boys shouldn’t be ashamed. You’ve already been seen by girls and the girls have already seen boys.

I’ll make it easier on you this first time. I’ll take you in the other room, and help you get dressed. You won’t have to do it out here in front of the girls.”

Given a choice between being naked in front of everyone and being naked only in front of Mrs. Burns, I chose the latter. Mrs. Burns is an adult and she’s old enough to be a mother, so being naked in front of her is sort of OK.

She took us to the other room where she instructed us to get undressed. Both of us were completely naked in front of her. She smiled as she looked at us. I don’t know why, but for some reason my penis was getting hard. I know she noticed, but she didn’t make a comment on it.

Putting on the panties wasn’t difficult. They went on the same as my underwear although they didn’t cover as much and didn’t have a fly but they did have a flower embroidered on the side. It was a lot like wearing a speedo bathing suit.

The bra, on the other hand, mystified me. It hooked in the back. I just couldn’t make it work. Mrs. Burns had to hook it for me. “It’s OK,” she said, “Most girls have a problem with their first bras. You’ll get used to it with practice.”

The girls were excited to see us. “They look so cute,” Mandy said as we entered the parlor. Maybe there was something more subtle about the way we walked or presented ourselves. Outwardly we looked the same as we did last week, but wearing 100% feminine garments without a shred of boy clothes on us took us one step closer to being like the girls.

The next day, Mrs. Burns upped the stakes. This time she sent Donna and Nancy in to supervise our clothing changes. I expected the girls to gloat over the power granted to them by our host, but they conducted themselves in a very detached and businesslike manner. They simply made no comments except to offer help in putting on our bras. Somehow, that made the experience even more humiliating, but Timmy and I endured it. The only time they seemed to be taking a really good look was when we were finished dressing; doing sort of an inspection to make sure we were properly dressed.

Over the course of the week, different pairs of girls were assigned to watch us change even though we had managed to master bras and panties on our own by that time. By the end of the week, every girl had her chance to supervise our dressing.

Week three saw yet another change: silky panties with lace on them. My sister didn’t even own a pair like these. The girls were very envious and my sister asked if she could borrow my panties. My panties were pink and Timmy’s were sort of a purple. What’s worse was that you could see right through them. Not that it mattered that much, the girls were seeing us naked as we changed clothes. By this time, the door to the changing room was left open.

The talk at the teas also took another turn. Of course there was still a lot of talk about shopping and school and boys and music, but there was also another element: sex. No, Mrs. Burns did not bring up vivid descriptions of the sexual act, but she did talk about it.

There was a lot of discussions about the changes that were going on in the girl’s bodies. Nancy and Donna already admitted to having periods, and Mandy, Helen and Carol were complaining about itchiness and swelling in the breast area and how some of their clothes no long fit around their hips. Dorothy and Arlene seemed to be as much in the dark about these things as us boys were.

Periods. It sounded so gross and I was glad I was not a girl so I didn’t have to have them. So that’s why girls caught a “cold” once a month and couldn’t go swimming!

The girls asked if Mrs. Burns had a period and she answered that she did and probably would continue to have them for quite a while to come. “You girls will keep having them until you are very old women. The only time they will stop is when you become pregnant.”

I remembered my aunt being pregnant. I didn’t know exactly what was going on, but all of a sudden, her big belly went away and I had a new cousin.

The girls did not seem to mind that us boys were learning these facts of life along with them. It made me feel kind of special to be allowed into this “inner circle” of girls. Any thoughts about giggling about it or making fun of them because of it were soon vanquished. I kind of actually had some respect for the girls: not just these particular girls, but all girls.

Mrs. Burns also went on to explain other changes in the girls’ bodies and what went on inside them and what happened when they got pregnant and how babies were born. I never knew these things and instead of coming across as sexual or dirty, I was genuinely fascinated. Again I was glad I wasn’t a girl. I’d be afraid to be pregnant and actually having a baby sounded really scary.

Donna asked, “Mrs. Burns, did you ever have any children. I mean, was there a Mr. Burns?”

Mrs. Burns got a sad look on her face and said, “Yes there was a Mr. Burns. His name was Robert, after the poet. He was a pilot in the Korean War. He never came back.”

I heard about the big war, World War II from my dad and my uncles. I didn’t know they had one in Korea. In fact, I barely knew where Korea was. Somewhere over by Japan was all I knew.

Donna bowed her head and said, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it’s OK dear. That’s life. I don’t have any children of my own, but I have all of you and all the girls in all the classes I’ve ever taught.

I take pride in making sure children get off to a good start in life. That’s why these teas and these lessons are so important to me.”

“How does a woman get pregnant?” Mandy asked, breaking the solemn mood and asking the question every one of us had.

Mrs. Burns brightened immediately, “Ah for that, we’ll have to learn the other half. We’ve thoroughly discussed the yin: the female part of the sexual equation. Now it’s time to discuss the yang, or boy parts and how they work.”

Mrs. Burns turned to us. “Boys, there’s a reason I’ve had the girls help you get dressed. Actually two reasons: one to get them comfortable with seeing you and two, get you comfortable being seen by them.

I want you boys to know that I’ve discussed what we are going to do with your mothers. They are OK with it. However, I also want you to know that you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. If you say “stop,” we’ll stop. If you stop, then the teas will be over for you.

However, I think you’ll be brave young men if you go along with this. It’s very important to your sisters and the other girls to learn these things. Also, you will learn things as well and at the end, there will be a pleasant surprise for you.

I know that it wasn’t easy letting the girls see your penises. I’m not even sure familial ties help. It might be even more embarrassing to be seen by your sisters since you live with them and see them every day as a constant reminder.

But the fact is, you boys did it and I’m proud of you for doing it. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You have very healthy bodies. I’m going to ask your help with educating the girls. They were good enough to educate you to be proper young ladies. They were very patient when I discussed the female body and how it works with you sitting there. I hope you are willing to return the favor.”

I looked at Mrs. Burns. I couldn’t say anything. So she went on. “I know this will be embarrassing, especially at first, but you’ve already gotten past the hardest part: being naked in front of the girls. Yes, I know it was only one or two girls at a time, and it was in the intimacy of the bedroom. But I’m asking you to take the next step.

Are you boys willing to help us out? This will be a great benefit to the girls and they will be grateful to you.”

I bowed my head, “I’ll do it.”

Timmy did the same.

“Thank you boys; you’ve made a very brave decision. Now if you will, please stand here and face the girls and take off your skirts and panties.”

Mrs. Burns had an easel of some sort with large pieces of paper on it. To this she had taped some pictures that looked like they came from a textbook. They showed a penis and testicles and some of the internal parts as well.

“These are from the materials I use to teach my classes,” she explained. “Normally, this is all my girls get to see. You girls are lucky as you have live models to compare them to.”

“Boys, put your hands on your heads,” she instructed us. “I want the girls to get a good look at you. There’s a lot they have to learn, and you’ll be my big brave models.”

I felt proud being called big and brave. It didn’t feel right being naked in front of the girls, without seeing them, but I understand that there isn’t much to be seen on a girl down there. Unlike us boys, all their parts are on the inside.

One the other hand, we boys were deficient too. Nancy and Donna had a small set of boobs and even Hellen seemed to be pushing out there.

Mrs. Burns carefully compared the drawing to the corresponding parts on our actual anatomy. To me, my penis was something that was just there and I peed through it. Sometimes it got hard for no apparent reason and that was embarrassing when it happened when I was wearing a tight bathing suit, but otherwise I didn’t think much of it.

Now with her making a big deal out of it, I found that I could hardly think of anything else.

At first I had some minor concern about her touching me. Mom had warned Carol about strangers touching her “down there.” She didn’t give me the same kind of warning. I guess she figured boys were exempt. Nonetheless, Mrs. Burns wasn’t a stranger and somehow this seemed OK.

“Glen here is circumcised. Timmy is uncircumcised. That’s why you can’t see the head of his penis like Glen. However, that’s just ‘cosmetic.’ Glen had the foreskin, that’s the hood over Timmy’s penis, removed when he was a baby. In some countries, they do it for religious purposes but in the United States it’s fairly common practice. They’re all the same underneath.

Neither boy has started puberty yet so they don’t have any hair down there yet as some of your girls may already have.

Also their penises are a bit small. They’ll start growing soon enough and I don’t mean like everything else that is growing on them. Their penises will grow from finger size as it is now to a full hand size.

Also their testicles or balls as they are sometimes called, won’t stay snugged up like they are now. They’ll drop down and hang in the sack which is called a scrotum.

Don’t be too concerned about learning the names of all the parts, girls. It’s enough to know about the parts and how they look and how they work.”

Mrs. Burns turned away from the girls and towards us. “Thank you boys. I really appreciate your cooperation. What you are doing is very important for the girls to learn. You are very brave to do this. I hope I can count on you again tomorrow. There is more for the girls and you to learn.”

“You can count on us,” Timmy said. I agreed and nodded. I had no idea what she had in store for us, but it was nice to be so important. Also she was right. It was fascinating to know what was inside me and how the parts were connected.

“Girls, I think it would be nice if you thank the boys for being so nice.”

We got a chorus of thanks and the girls actually seemed grateful.

We got dressed and continued with the tea. Despite the fact that the older girls towered over me, I felt like I was sitting a little taller.

Things got more intense during our next tea. Once again, Timmy and I were naked from the waist down with our hands on our head being “brave.”

Mrs. Burns brought out a box of rubber surgical gloves. “Girls, yesterday we learned about male anatomy. Today we’re going to learn about male physiology. Anatomy is what it looks like, physiology is how it works.

You may have noticed that sometimes the boys’ penises are bigger than at other times. You are not seeing things. This is the way the organ is designed. When it inflates with blood, it gets bigger and more rigid. This makes intercourse possible. I’ll talk about intercourse later.

At the moment, the boys are flaccid. They are not sexually excited. I want each of you to put on a pair of gloves and feel along with me as we explore.”

Mrs. Burns passed around a box of rubber surgical gloves. I watched in silence as each girl donned her gloves.

“It’s OK girls. Line up. Nancy, you can go first. Just take it between your thumb and fingers and give it a little squeeze and bend it a little … That’s a girl. Good job. Now feel Timmy.

The rest of you girls, step up and feel the boys too.”

It felt funny having someone else touch my penis. I can’t even recall my mother doing it when she gave me a bath as a little boy. It was embarrassing to be “girl-handled” this way, but there was also some excitement. I liked the girls touching me this way although I think I would have liked it even better if they weren’t wearing gloves.

When the last girl, Mandy, finished I noticed I was a little bit bigger and harder.

“That’s what a flaccid or soft penis feels like,” Mrs. Burns concluded. “Now I’m going to show you what an erect penis looks and feels like.”

Mrs. Burns poured some baby oil on her palm and rubbed it around. She grabbed hold of my penis. It felt so funny. She made a fist around my penis and moved it back and forth. Of course, with the lubrication, her gloved hand simply slid over my penis. It felt good, her massaging it this way and I soon found myself getting hard.

“I’m giving Glen an erection. Sometimes boys call this a hard on. Boys get erections for any number of reasons, but physical stimulation of the organ is almost always a sure thing.”

Wow! I thought erections just happened. I didn’t know you could make them happen. I bet the girls didn’t know that either.

Mrs. Burns let go of me and went on to Timmy. She did the same procedure on him. “See, girls, once Timmy is erected, the head pops out from the foreskin where you can see it.

Go ahead. Have a feel on each boy. Once again give it a squeeze and try to bend it gently to get an idea how hard it’s gotten.”

The girls were impressed and there were variations of “Wow” and “That’s so cool.”

“I mentioned that boys get erections for any number of reasons. One of them is looking at girls. That’s not much of a problem for boys Timmy’s or Glen’s age, but once a boy reaches puberty, almost any girl will turn them on under almost any condition.

Be aware of this girls. Even in normal clothing, teenaged boys will get excited looking at you. So don’t wear revealing clothes. It only makes matters worse.”

“Jeeze, you sound just like the nuns,” Nancy said.

“Well, in this case they’re right. You may think it may be fun, but boys will not be the only ones looking at you. You’ve heard of dirty old men. Haven’t you?”

“Now you’re sounding like my mom,” my sister said.

“Well, she’s right too. It’s one thing for boys your age to get worked up over you. That’s kind of how nature works. However when an adult has that kind of interest, something is wrong. Be aware of it and walk away. If you can’t walk away such as in the case of a family member or neighbor, talk to your parents about it. If it’s really serious, call the police.

I’m not kidding, girls. Be safe.

You don’t know what it’s like being a boy looking at a girl. It’s like you have these invisible fingers that can reach across the room and through his pants and rub him like I just did. So don’t abuse this power you have over boys. Don’t go out of your way to tease them. Relationships based solely on sex end in disaster for both you and the boy. So save yourself some heart ache.

As I said before, with a teenaged boy, there’s almost no challenge. You could be dressed in a burlap sack and you’ll probably still turn him on.”

The girls broke out in laughter at that statement.

“I think you’ve learned enough for today. Once again, I ask you to thank the boys for being so cooperative.”

This they did with each girl giving us a peck on our cheeks. I was really beginning to like the girls. We were building a relationship not based on sex even though they were touching our sexual parts. The relationship was based on the shared experience more than the sex touching. I felt very comfortable with my new “sisters” and I think I would be comfortable with other girls in the future. I really had to thank Mrs. Burns for this accomplishment.

The next day was the climax of our training in more ways than one.

Mrs. Burns greeted us as usual and we had our tea and adjoined to the parlor to continue our lessons.

Mrs. Burns called us to order. “Yesterday we learned almost all there is to learn about the male reproductive system. Last week we learned about the female reproductive system. Now it’s time to put our knowledge together and discuss how the baby gets inside the mother.

As you recall, it takes the union of sperm and egg to produce a baby. The egg starts out in the ovary and travels down one of these tubes … does anyone remember what they are called?”

Mandy raised her hand, “Fallopian tubes?”

“That’s right Mandy. Gold star for you.

Anyway, the tubes are actually where conception takes place. If a sperm penetrates an egg, then the egg will continue into the uterus and ‘plant’ itself. Otherwise it just passes through.

Now for the part you’ve been asking about all week. How does the sperm get there in the first place? It’s a matter of physics: what goes up, must come down.

The man places his penis inside the woman’s vagina and moves it back and forth.”

There was an almost universal screwing up at the face for the younger girls.

“Ewe, gross,” Arlene said.

“Does it hurt?” Dorothy asked.

“It’s not gross, Arlene. At least not when it is done right between a man and a woman who really love each other. And, Dorothy, it might hurt just a little bit the first time you do it. Some of you younger girls might notice and some of you older girls might recall, there a flap of skin over your vagina. You may have it or you may not. Some girls, particularly if they are active might have already separated it.

However, if it is still in place there may be some discomfort for the first time as the penis pushes past it.”

“How can it do that? It’s so small and so soft.” Mandy asked, and then her face brightened, “Oh I get it. Erections. That’s why you showed us how boys get hard yesterday. So boys have to be hard to do this?”

Mrs. Burns smiled, “Yes they do.

Intercourse can also be painful if there isn’t enough lubrication. If you take your time and you gently play with each other and you are both healthy, then this shouldn’t be a problem. When a woman gets excited, she secretes some slippery liquid into her vagina.

The same thing happens with boys. If they are really excited, they’ll leak a drop or two of clear liquid. Timmy and Glen are too young to do that just like they are too young to produce sperm.

The key to success is to take it nice and slow. You boys remember that. It’s easier for boys to get ready for intercourse than it is for girls. Even after you start, take it slow.

Think of it like getting on a ride at the amusement park. Waiting on line isn’t fun, but it does build the suspense and it makes actually getting onto the ride more fun. Also, what is the purpose of getting on the ride? Surely it isn’t to get to the end of the ride as fast as you can. Is it?

No, it’s all about enjoying the ride while you are on it. There are some things in life that are worth doing simply to do them; not because they serve some end purpose. So take it slow and enjoy the ride. Try to make it as much fun for your partner as you can and you’ll get more out of it too.

Now we are not going to do intercourse here. That’s something you should save for that someone special after you are married.”

Nancy and Donna nodded, “Yeah, that’s what the nuns keep telling us. The only sex education we get is, ‘Good girls don’t do it.’ Up until you taught us I had no idea what ‘it’ was supposed to be.”

“We can’t very well have the boys sticking their penises into your vaginas, but we can do something else. Instead of a vagina, we can use our hands. Put your gloves on girls.”

Mrs. Burns manipulated out penises like she did the day before. Both Timmy and I were hard almost instantly. She continued her lecture as she manipulated our organs. “In real intercourse, the boy moves his penis up and down the shaft.

Today we will be using our hands to simulate the vagina. You’ll notice that today I did not put baby oil on my gloves. I did this for a reason. What we are going to do is called masturbation. Masturbation is when a person’s genitals are stimulated by something other than intercourse. So we will be using our hands to … masturbate … the boys.

The slang term for the kind of masturbation we will be doing is call jerking off.”

Helen piped up, “I heard a boy call another boy that name and the boy got mad.”

“Well, most boys don’t want to admit they do it, even though almost every boy does.”

“I heard that it’s a sin,” Donna said, “It adultery.”

Mrs. Burns laughed, “It’s far from that. It isn’t something to do lightly or even that often. It’s a natural part of growing up. If you don’t do it so much that it takes over other things in your life, it’s harmless. Just be discrete about it.

Now back to the lesson. There are two ways to ‘jerk off’ a boy: wet and dry.

What I did yesterday was the wet method. That’s using some sort of lubricant and running your fist directly over the head of the boy’s penis making contact directly with your palm.

Some boys claim it’s more exciting this way. It’s also a lot messier.

The dry method is different. What you do is grab the skin of the shaft and pull it over the head of the penis and then pull it back. The advantage of this method is that it can be done anywhere and anytime.

Now I want you girls to try it while I supervise. Be careful not to hurt the boys. Direct rubbing without lubrication can lead to a sore penis and we don’t want that. The skin on the shaft sort of rolls over the head and provides its own kind of lubrication”

Mrs. Burns watched closely as each girl took her turn masturbating us. I was getting hard and I was also feeling a bit funny sort of like when I have to pee, but only different.

“That’s good,” Mrs. Burns said after about 15 minutes of the girls playing with our penises. “I’ll take over from here.”

She grabbed my penis and started stroking it. She squeezed it to gage its hardness. She listened to my breathing. I was feeling funny. All kinds of tingly down there. I stiffened my body involuntarily.

“Let yourself go. Trust me. Relax and go with it.” Mrs. Burns said soothingly.

Then all of a sudden I felt like when the time I touched the lamp wire when it was plugged in. A shock hit my whole body only this was a good shock. Although I had no control over my body, I didn’t want it to stop. It just got better and better and peaked and slowly went away.

It might have lasted 30 seconds, but I was totally drained.

Mrs. Burns explained, “What you felt was an orgasm. That’s what you’ll feel when having intercourse, only probably a lot stronger.

You girls could see how his body tightened up and how his breathing became funny. If Glen were a couple years older you would have also seen him ejaculate; that is, shoot his sperm.

Sperm does not come out like pee in a steady stream. It comes out in spurts. The first couple of spurts are the strongest. After that, they become smaller. You can only get so many of them and then you have to let the boy rest before you can do it again.”

She then went on to do Timmy. It was interesting to watch his reaction. Did I look like that?

Mrs. Burns wrapped up the lesson.

“As I said before, masturbation isn’t to be done lightly. Whether or not it’s a sin is something you need to decide for yourselves. But ask yourself this, ‘Who is it hurting?’ Sure it’s fun for you boys to do, but be discrete about it. I’m sure your parents will suspect that you do it. After this, your sisters will definitely know that you do it, but don’t flaunt it. Do it in private and don’t leave evidence behind. You’ll understand more about that when you start ejaculating. It’s a messy proposition.

Also don’t do it too much or sex won’t be something special for you. You’ll miss out on the intimacy of intercourse when the time comes. Put it in balance with everything else in your lives. However, if it comes down to masturbation or having intercourse with the wrong person or at the wrong time, you may consider it as an alternative.

Also don’t do stupid things like look at dirty magazines to get you all excited. Avoid the temptation and it will be easier to deal with. Get out and run, exercise … burn some of that energy off.

And you girls have a lot to learn from this beyond the mere mechanics of jerking on a penis. There will come a time when your date will pressure you for sex. Do not give in just to be popular. However, you may find that masturbating your date is a way to satisfy him and diminish his craving for sex.

Again, be discrete and discerning. Don’t do it for just any boy. It’s something special and you should reserve it for a last resort instead of intercourse. It’s safe – as long as you wash your hands afterwards. There are some diseases you can catch from an infected person and I doubt you’ll be wearing rubber gloves when you do it. But most of all, you can’t get pregnant by doing it.”

This was a lot for us kids to absorb. Unfortunately, that was our last tea. Mrs. Burns was off on a vacation of her own before the school year started and by the time she returned, we were back in our old neighborhood and back in school.

Epilog

I never saw Mrs. Burns again. She met up with a man described as a nice fellow with a good job with an electronics company in Texas. She married him and moved away.

However her legacy lived on with us kids. We seldom talked about the teas, or at least the sexual aspects of the teas, but we all knew and shared the common knowledge and that bound us together across ages and gender lines.

Timmy and I never wore skirts or girls’ clothing again. Well, at least I didn’t. I can’t speak for Timmy. However, wearing a skirt bonded me to the girls, and it just made me appreciate girls better. When I got old enough to date, I had few actual girlfriends but many girls who were friends. This was uncommon in that era.

My sister started having her period the following year. I knew what was going on, and I didn’t tease her about it and actually sympathized with her. I “cut her some slack” on those days and she appreciated my concerns. We became very close and have an excellent relationship to this day.

A couple of years later I hit puberty myself and offered to show my sister what an ejaculation looked like. She declined the offer stating that she had already seen one. She was nearly 16 at the time so I guess she made at least one of her boyfriends happy. However, she did convince me to put on a demonstration for a younger female cousin.

I had few actual girlfriends, but the ones I did have were really fun to be with. The only issue was they were all “good Catholic girls” and I had to compete with the puritanical theology crammed into their heads by the nuns. I wish my girlfriends had the same sex education that Mrs. Burns gave us. I was not really brave enough to suggest masturbation to any of them, far less teach them what to do. However, my self-stimulation kept my sexual urges in check and I was able to behave myself with them. They appreciated how “gentlemanly” I was especially when compared to other boys.

Arlene and I were sort of an item one of the summers we were there. It was a summer romance and ended with the season, but we were still friends until life drifted us apart.

I finally did meet the girl who was to become my wife. I remembered what Mrs. Burns said about intercourse. If I wanted to get it off fast, I could always masturbate, but to really enjoy sex with my partner takes time. I find that the setup and foreplay are as much fun as the act. As a result, Wendy loves to make love and isn’t only responsive to my overtures, but actively seduces me often. I just smile silently when I hear other men complain that their wives hate sex.

Wherever you are Mrs. Burns, thank you.

Donna (13), Helen (11) and Arlene (8),
Dorothy (9), Mandy (10) and Nancy (13)
Carol who was 11.
Timmy and Glen.

(The End)