Oak Tree Cabins

By NAMB

modestnot@gmail.com

Copyright 2015 by NAMB all rights reserved

* * * * *
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. 
* * * * * 
 

 
For as long as I remember, my family spent their summers at Oak Tree Cabins in the Catskill Mountains. It was more than just our family; it was the entire block. Most of the dads served in the big war, and this bonded them together. Everyone’s mom knew everyone else’s mom so it was like an extended family. Everyone was ”Uncle” or “Aunt” so-and-so and I had about a dozen or so cousins and none of them real blood relations.
 
There were eight families that rented the same set of cabins at Oak Tree Cabins year after year. We shared one of the larger ones with the Koch’s.
 
If you’ve ever seen the movie “Dirty Dancing” this was a sort of like it, only a much scaled-down, blue collar version. We were simple folk for whom bowling, beer and baseball were our parent’s main pleasures.
 
Surprisingly, mom was a baseball fan. She was one of the few women I’ve ever known who could explain the infield fly rule. She also got into watching the game as when things went wrong for her beloved Mets and she questioned whether some player or the coach was the offspring of a mixed marriage between human and canine. My sister and I were also the result of a mixed marriage: dad was a Yankee fan. Me? To this day, I have never forgiven the Dodgers for leaving Brooklyn.
 
In addition to the cabins, there was the main house which rented out individual rooms and had a dining room (the cabins had their own kitchens), a rec hall (it had a ping-pong table, “knock hockey” table, a record player, some tables and chairs and shelves of board games and books.)
 
There was a small playground for the little kids (a slide, swing set and sandbox), a pool, and once a week there was a sunset hay ride. It was nothing more than some farmer making a few extra bucks by towing a hay wagon with his tractor over some of the dirt roads, but it was fun for us kids and we looked forward to it.
 
On the 4th of July, we went into town, watched the parade, ate cotton candy, hot dogs and ice cream; rode the rides in a temporary amusement park set up in a vacant lot and stayed until it got dark and watched the fireworks: an ideal day for any kid.
 
The men spent the weekends at the cabins and commuted back to the city to work during the week. It was sort of a homecoming celebration when they arrived on Friday and a kind of sad parting when they left after mass on Sunday.
 
So I got used to sharing our cabin with my mom, my younger sister Elaine, Aunt Bess and her three children: Mark who was my age and his younger twin sisters Megan and Marline.
 
The events of this story happened when Mark and I were 13 and our sisters were about 11.
 
Sex education in the 1960’s was a matter left to the families. It certainly wasn’t taught by the nuns in St. Pius X Roman Catholic School.
 
Mark and I got our education in the usual method: from the older boys on the street. At age 13 we were still very much virgins and didn’t even really know what a woman looked like for sure.
 
That’s one of the advantages the girls our age had over us. They did baby sitting and sometimes changed diapers on little boys. Babysitting was a girl-only occupation. Also back home on the street, little boys were often taken to an alleyway to make pee so as not to interrupt play. I’m pretty sure that there wasn’t a girl on our block over the age of 6 that didn’t know what a boy looked like.
 
Some of the older boys had baby sisters and got to see them and explained what girl parts looked like. One of them laughed as he explained how his mother corrected him when he asked about his baby sister, “When will she grow a thing like me?” Some boys even claimed to have seen naked women in magazines.
 
So Mark and I depended on each other to figure out things sexual. I told him about an experience I had where I woke up with a warm, sticky gooey mess in front of my pajamas. He confided in me that he figured out a way to make that happen and that it felt really good.
 
We managed to get together once at his house when everyone was out and he showed me what he did and I did it too. We discovered the joys of masturbation and I did it as often as I could. Sharing an apartment with my parents and my sister made “often as I could” not often enough.
 
So this summer we were looking for opportunities. We’d leave the cabin right after breakfast to go on a hike into “the woods.” At first our sisters wanted to join us and our moms made us take them. We deliberately made these walks long and boring, and after a couple of days, the girls lost interest.
 
Now that we were free of our little sisters, we went in search of a place to masturbate in private. There was a rock ledge that was part of the way up a hill that looked like it had promise. The hill was so steep that we had to climb up on our hands and knees to get to the ledge.
 
It was a perfect location. It was probably carved out by a glacier tens of thousands of years ago. It had a lip that shielded the flat part from the path. At this hour the sun warmed the rock and it felt good. It wasn’t long before Mark and I were experiencing it with our bare butts.
 
We pulled down our pants and looked at each other. We found that we were already erected with anticipation. We complimented each other on how much we grew in the past year: we even sprouted hair down there. It wasn’t much, a fine downy bush, but it was proof that we were now men, not boys.
 
Both of us laughed as we looked at each other’s hard-ons. Mark winked at me, grabbed his penis and said, “This one’s for Patricia Delgato. Patricia was a girl in our class and was ahead of her contemporaries in the breast development area. “You can’t have her,” I complained, “she’s mine.”
 
“Yeah right! She’s out of our league. I hear she has a boyfriend who will be starting high school this fall.
 
“Well, she still makes me hard.” I said.
 
“You know who makes me hard?”
 
“No who?”
 
“Promise not to laugh.”
 
“I promise.”
 
“Promise not to tell”
 
“I promise. Now tell me who she is.”
 
“Elaine.”
 
“Elaine? You mean my sister Elaine? She’s just a little girl.”
 
“Yes she is, but she’s really cute. Maybe you don’t see it because you live with her all the time.”
 
I had to admit, familiarity breeds contempt. I was fully aware that my sister was a girl, but I could never think of her as a real girl.
 
I decided to return the compliment, “Well, your sisters aren’t bad looking either.” I had to admit that they had their moments when they transformed from kids to girls. At this point, they were still more kid than girl but we all grew up together so it was difficult to think of them as other than two more sisters who lived in somebody else’s house.
 
With those thoughts, Mark and I started jerking off. We had gotten better at it since he first showed me what to do. Practice does make perfect. I was soon lost in my personal masturbational delight.
 
My lust must have been stronger than Mark’s. I came within minutes and laid back against the warm rock watching him. It was a funny kind of fascination; did I look like that doing it? I watched as I heard him grunt and shoot his load.
 
We sat there naked except for our T-shirts and sneakers enjoying the warmth of the sun on our bodies until we recovered enough to try it again.
 
“Man, that was great. We got to do that again tomorrow.” Mark told me.
 
“There’s no reason we can’t do it every day: even Sunday.”
 
The two of us got redressed and scrambled back down the hill.
 
Walking back to the cabin, I noticed an uncomfortableness in my crotch. My underwear seemed to be chaffing. I thought, “It can’t be sunburn. I wasn’t exposed long enough.”
 
By the time we got back to the cabin, it was unbearable. I looked at Mark and he seemed to be walking funny too.
 
One of the first things I felt the need to do was go to the bathroom. As I took it out to pee, I saw that it had red splotches all over it. I was scared. I heard about venereal disease (I didn’t call it that then), and wondered if you could get it from jerking off.
 
I got out of the bathroom and pulled Mark outside out of earshot of moms and sisters and everyone else.
 
“Mark, something’s wrong.”
 
“What is it?”
 
“My thing,” (I didn’t call it a penis then), “It’s all itchy and red.”
 
“Mine too. Do you think we caught something?”
 
“I don’t know, but it itches like crazy.”
 
“What are we going to do?”
 
“Maybe it will go away.”
 
“I hope so. It’s driving me crazy.”
 
We went back into the house for lunch. I couldn’t stop scratching down there. My mom noticed and said, “Steven, What are you doing?”
 
“Sorry mom,” I replied.
 
“Stop touching yourself there. It’s not polite.”
 
Megan piped up in a couple of minutes, “Mom, Mark’s doing it too.”
 
Mrs. Koch took a look at her son, “What’s with you boys? And in in front of your sisters too!”
 
I was out of my mind with the burning in my crotch. I excused myself and ran off to the bathroom.
 
“Steven, where are you going?”
 
“Bathroom.”
 
“No you’re not. Not until you tell us what’s going on.”
 
I was willing to confess, but needed a concession. “Not in front of the girls, please mom.”
 
Mom had an Edith Bunker-like epiphany. First she said “Oh” and after a moment my actual meaning hit her and she said, “Ooooh.”
 
She turned to the girls. “Elaine, Megan, Marlene, go to the rec center. Aunt Bess and I will come get you later.”
 
The girls wanted to stay, but my “aunt” and mother gave them that special “mom look” and shooed them out.
 
“Now what’s going on?” mom asked.
 
“Its’ … its’ …” I started.
 
“It’s what?”
 
“It’s embarrassing. I got an itch on my thing. It won’t go away.”
 
“What do you mean you have an itch?”
 
“I mean it’s all red and itchy.”
 
“Let me see.”
 
“Mom!”
 
“Yes, I am your mom: the same mom that changed your diapers. I know what boys look like. If there’s something wrong, we need to see a doctor.”
 
Aunt Bess asked her son, “And you?”
 
“The same thing,” he said almost in tears.
 
“OK,” she said, “down with those pants and let’s see what we are dealing with.”
 
The itchiness far exceeded any modesty I had at this point and if seeing a doctor made it go away then see a doctor I would but first I had to get through mom. I lowered my pants and my penis came into view. Mark did likewise.
 
“Oh my,” my mom said. “You weren’t kidding. That doesn’t look good. I’m calling Sally right now.”
 
Sally, better known to us kids as “Miss Sally” was a nurse who rented a cabin across from us.
 
Aunt Bess went across to fetch her and the two women returned in a matter of minutes. Miss Sally was carrying a small leather bag. It was her medical kit.
 
So here we are, two naked from the waist down 13-year-old boys in front of three fully dressed women. This would not be so bad if it were just our moms, but Miss Sally was a stranger and a good-looking stranger. She was different than the other women. All the other women at the cabins were all moms and Catholic (except for old Mrs. Goldstein).
 
Miss Sally was single, Episcopalian and went to a different church. Her mass or whatever she went to was later than ours and we would see her coming back in her Sunday clothes. She was 20-something and very pretty. I saw the way dad and Mr. Koch looked at her. I didn’t want to get hard in front of her. I was hoping the pain would help me keep it down.
 
She took a clinical look at our penises. I was mortified, but not sexually embarrassed. She was a medical professional. I tried to keep this in mind.
 
“So how did this happen?” she asked.
 
Mark and I looked at each other and blushed.
 
“I see,” she said. “Is this something you would rather not discuss with your mothers present?”
 
“We both nodded.”
 
She looked at Aunt Bess and my mom. “Please, let your boys talk to me alone.”
 
“Let me get my purse,” mom said. “We’ll meet the girls at the rec center and keep them busy.”
 
“Thank you.”
 
After our moms left, Miss Sally asked us when we first noticed it and what we did over the past 24 hours. She told us, “Tell me everything. I am not your moms and I won’t tell them anything I don’t have to. I am a medical professional and I am bound by patient confidentiality.
 
So it would be in your own best interest to tell me everything: all the details. I won’t judge you, I won’t yell at you, and I won’t tell anyone anything you tell me. I’m only interested getting to the medical root of the problem.”
 
Although she did her best to put us at ease, it was still very difficult to tell her our story. Mark and I recounted our trip to the woods in no clear order and when we got to our episode on the ledge, the only thing we would admit to was that we “made pee.”
 
I think she got the message. “OK, when you ‘made pee’, did you put your entire hand around your penis?”
 
We nodded.
 
“OK, tell me more about this hill. When you climbed up did you come across any vines?”
 
As a matter of fact we did. “Yeah, the hill was covered with them.”
 
“And did they have three leaves on each stem?”
 
“I think so.”
 
She laughed, “Relax boys, what we have here is a case of poison ivy.”
 
She went to the sink and washed up. After drying her hands she donned a pair of rubber gloves from her medical kit. “I’ll have to take a closer look at your penises,” she explained. Oh no! She was actually going to touch us there.
 
We stood there, petrified into statues by shock, so she went on, “You got it all over your hands. Then you touched your penises. Your hands and arms have rather tough skin so you didn’t get a rash there. However, the skin on your penis is a lot more sensitive, so it broke out.”
 
“What do we do?”
 
“Don’t worry about it. It’s curable and there are things we can do to make the itching go away while it’s healing. I’m going to have to talk to your moms about it though.”
 
As she was talking she was handling first my then Mark’s penis as casually as if she were inspecting some figurine in a China shop.
 
“You’re not going to tell them anything, are you?”
 
“Relax boys. I have an idea of what you were doing when you made pee. You’re not the only boys who do it. I have a couple of older brothers and lived in a house where the bathroom door didn’t latch properly. I bet your moms know too. It’s OK. I’m not going to tell them anything more than how to take care of the situation.
 
You boys stay here.”
 
I looked at Mark: like where were we going to go?
 
She went to the door and opened it up. It was almost silent and I heard the sound of a bouncing rubber ball on the sidewalk and the sing-song melody of a young girl’s voice chanting out an alphabet rhyme in time with the cadence of the bouncing ball. It was a game my sister and the Koch girls played often.
 
Miss Sally looked around and shouted to the girl, “Debbie, can you come over here please?” The bouncing and the sing-song chanting stopped.
 
I knew who Debbie was; she was an 8-year old two cabins down. Certainly Miss Sally wasn’t going to invite her in? Fortunately, she met Debbie at the door and closed the door partly behind her. I could make out what she said to the girl.
 
“Would you please be a sweetheart and go down to the rec center and tell Mrs. Koch and Mrs. Sanford that I want to talk with them?”
 
“Sure thing, Miss Sally.”
 
I could hear Debbie scurry off.
 
Mark and I waited silently. Although it was a warm day, both of us were sweating far out of proportion to the heat. The rec center could not be further than a couple hundred feet away and I’m sure Debbie made it there as fast as her Keds could carry her, but it seemed like hours before our moms finally arrived.
 
“What’s the problem?” my mom asked when she and Aunt Bess finally arrived.
 
“It’s nothing serious,” Miss Sally responded.
 
“Do we need to take them to the emergency room?” Aunt Bess asked. “Do they need a shot or something?”
 
“No, not at all.”
 
“Then what’s wrong?”
 
“It’s just a temporary rash.”
 
“From what? Is it his underwear? I’ve been using the same laundry detergent for years.”
 
“No, it’s just an allergy to some of the local plant life. I talked with the boys about it and they know how to avoid it in the future.”
 
“So what do we do?”
 
“First they both need a good shower. They need to wash everywhere thoroughly. I know it will be difficult to wash the irritated areas, but run some soapy water over it at least and then rinse it off good.
 
While you are doing that, I’ll go over to my cabin. I have some lotion that will help them with the itching.”
 
Mom and Aunt Bess put us both in the shower at the same time. I felt a bit uncomfortable. I’ve never taken a shower with another person like this. It just felt weird being naked with another guy who was also naked while other people around us had their clothes on.
 
Aunt Bess made a comment that made me even more uncomfortable, “My, our boys have surely grown up in the past couple of years.” I’m sure she meant it as a compliment but I didn’t like the idea of a woman commenting on my boy parts.
 
At least we were allowed to wash and dry ourselves. I just sort of blotted my penis dry. I still don’t know why our moms had to watch us. I guess they wanted to assure we complied with “nurse’s orders.”
 
By the time we were out of the shower, Miss Sally was back. She instructed our moms on how to take care of us.
 
“Boys, stand here and face your mothers so I can explain the procedure to them.”
 
By this time I was beginning to get used to being naked in a room full of women.
 
Turning to our moms, she continued, “I brought over a box of rubber gloves, I recommend you wash your hands and wear them when you do this.”
 
She held up a tube of lotion. “This is calamine lotion. It will reduce the itchiness and even take down some of the swelling around the red spots.
 
You are going to have to apply it to the head and the shaft of the penis several times a day.
 
The problem is that to get to the shaft, you are going to have the pull the head out and the skin back. This is going to aggravate the condition.
 
Fortunately there is a solution. Penises, as you know, are extendable. I think the boys can figure out what to do to give themselves an erection. Once the head is at least partly exposed, you can start applying the lotion. This will probably complete the job of giving them an erection.
 
You’re going to have to do this several times a day. I recommend at least 4 times for the first two days.”
 
“What kind of bandage do we put on it?” my mom asked.
 
“None. It is best to leave the irritated parts exposed to the air. Putting underwear on them will only rub and chafe and cause more problems.”
 
“You mean our boys will have to remain naked?”
 
“I’m afraid so, at least for the next two days. You can put a shirt on them, but they should be exposed from the waist down.”
 
“But what about the girls: their sisters?”
 
“They can keep all their clothes on if they want,” Miss Sally laughed, making a sudden joke.
 
“Look, I have no advice on that. These are your sons and your daughters. You know what’s best for your family. I can only offer medical advice on your sons.”
 
Just then there was a knock on the door. My sister’s head appeared. Mark and I quickly moved into our bedroom so as not to be seen.
 
“What’s Miss Sally doing here?” was her first question.
 
My mom answered, “She just came over to help with a problem with your brothers.”
 
“Are they OK?”
 
“They are doing fine … but …” and here my mom stopped and looked at Aunt Bess.
 
“You might as well tell her. There’s no way we are going to hide this for the next two days.”
 
“Tell us what?”
 
“Go get Megan and Marlene.” Aunt Bess said, “We’ll do this all at once.”
 
“They’re right here with me.”
 
“OK, the three of you wait out on the porch.”
 
We could hear the door close and the girls talking on the porch. However it’s what the three women had to say that had my interest.
 
“How are we going to tell them?” my mom asked.
 
“Better still, what are we going to tell them?” Aunt Bess added.
 
“Tell them the truth,” Miss Sally offered.
 
“What do you mean?”
 
“I mean your girls are ready to learn the facts of life. Normally this is done with the aid of pictures and drawings in a book. In this case, they’ll have live models.”
 
“That’s incest!”
 
“No it’s not; it’s simply male nudity.”
 
“Oh my,” Aunt Bess let out.
 
“It’s not a big deal. It happens in art all the time. Look, the human body is God’s gift to us. It isn’t dirty or sinful as long as it is treated with respect.”
 
I blinked. None of the nuns or the priest would ever say something like that! It says in Genesis that Adam and Eve were ashamed because they were naked. Boys and girls weren’t supposed to look at one another. It was a sin and we were supposed to keep our bodies secret from everyone else.
 
I listened as Miss Sally continued her reasoning, “This situation will give your girls a unique opportunity to show respect for their brothers’ bodies and maybe by transference give the boys an appreciation of what it is like to be naked in front of the opposite sex so they can develop respect for the female body. That’s something most men never develop.”
 
“I’m not sure I like this idea,” mom said.
 
“There is nothing sexual about it. It’s strictly a medical necessity. Besides, there’s a very practical aspect to it.”
 
I could hear Miss Sally take a deep breath, “Hear me out. Your boys are going to have to be naked from the waist down for the next couple of days. They can’t stay in their rooms for the whole period of time. They’ll have to come out to eat, or at least go to the bathroom.
 
Oh, I’m sure you can take elaborate means to try to preserve their modesty, but that would only confuse your girls more. They’ll think there is something ‘wrong’ with their brothers.
 
Don’t think of your boys the same way as you think of your girls. Girls develop a sense of modesty on their own by the time they reach grade school.
 
Boys on the other hand, are taught modesty. If we women didn’t teach them any better, they’d be running around naked all the time. I’m sure it was a cave woman who first thought of wrapping herself in a bear skin. Modesty does not come naturally to boys, and they’ll adapt to being naked temporarily. It will be embarrassing for them at first, but they’ll get over it.
 
As for your girls, they are exceptionally mature for their ages. I think they can handle male nudity. Of course, at first there will be some nervousness until the novelty of the situation wears off.
 
In fact, we can make it easier on them if we involve them in the process.”
 
“What do you mean?”
 
“I mean let the girls be responsible for taking care of the boys. Taking responsibility will divert the situation from sexual or even sibling one-upmanship to medical. I’m sure they’ll stand up to the task and take their responsibilities seriously.
 
It will make them feel more confident if they are responsible for their brothers’ recovery. It will also make it easier on the boys. They won’t simply be ogled over by their kid sisters. There will be a reason for the girls seeing them naked.”
 
“Do you think it will work?”
 
“Trust me. First let’s talk to the girls. From their responses, we’ll see if they can handle it.”
 
My mom stuck her head out the door, “Girls, come in here.”
 
I couldn’t believe my ears. My sister and Mark’s sisters are going to see us naked.
 
The three girls came in and my mom started to fumble with her words, “Your brothers, um, have this rash and ….”
 
There was an uncomfortable silence in which Aunt Bess offered nothing.
 
Miss Sally came to their rescue. “You brothers have a rash. They’ll be OK, but they will need medical attention. How would you girls like to be my assistant nurses and help your moms take care of them?”
 
“Sure,” Elaine said, “What do we have to do?”
 
“Well, the first thing you are going to have to do is be professional about it. What I’ll be asking you to do is serious business. Do you understand?”
 
Yes “Miss Sally,” the girls said.
 
“Good! There is this thing known as nurse-patient confidentiality. This means that you can only discuss the patient’s illness and their treatment with the patients themselves and other medical professionals.
 
So this means that only the three of you, your brothers and your moms and I are the only ones who can talk about this. It isn’t something you can tell your friends or anyone else. Are you willing to agree to these terms?”
 
I heard some muffled “yeses.”
 
“I have one more thing to tell you before we start. The rash is on your brother’s penises.” She stopped and let that sink in. There were some stifled giggles, but it was soon replaced by silence.
 
“This means that your brothers will be naked. Will you have a problem with seeing them this way?”
 
“No, Miss Sally.” I could hear one of the girls say, perhaps a bit too eagerly.
 
“OK, then let’s get started. Remember now, be professional. Boys, come out here please.”
 
I didn’t want to go out there and neither did Mark. It was one thing to be naked in front of our mothers and Miss Sally. They were adults and sort of had a right to see us naked. But our sisters were just girls and they were younger than us. An odd and only slightly comforting thought occurred to me. If Mark and I had to go to Confession because of our masturbation, then the girls would have to go for seeing us naked.
 
“Boys, I’ve explained this to your moms. You can’t stay in your room for the next two days. You’re going to have to come out to eat and go to the bathroom or watch TV. The girls are going to see you eventually.
 
They are going to have to see you so they can take care of you. You don’t want those rashes to go untreated.”
 
I shuffled out with my hands covering my crotch. So did Mark.
 
Marlene said, “Oh, they’re really naked!” The other two girls giggled.
 
My sister said, “I thought they were going to take their clothes off. I didn’t expect them to be naked already.”
 
“Now girls, remember what I told you about professionalism. This is not a game. These are your patients. They need your help and you will provide it without teasing them about it.”
 
The girls bowed their heads and nodded and then returned their gaze to us.
 
Miss Sally turned to us, “Boys, drop your hands. Let the girls see what they have to do.”
 
I could see my sister’s eyes get wide. I was too embarrassed to look at the Koch twins.
 
Miss Sally took it in stride. “As you can see, your brothers have a rash on their penises. This is not a serious condition, but they will need your help with it.”
 
“What do we have to do?” Megan asked.
 
“I was just about to show your moms how to apply lotion to their penises. First, wash your hands thoroughly and put on some rubber gloves; then come over here and I will demonstrate.”
 
Miss Sally explained that first we’d have to get erected. I found that thinking about girls got me hard at times, however the only sure way was direct stimulation, and I certainly couldn’t do that now. However, another emotion took over: embarrassment. With so many female eyes on my organ it reacted like it had a mind of its own.
 
“The boys have to be erected for this. This means that their penises have to be hard and stick straight out. That should happen as part of the process. We’ll do Steven first. The head of his penis is just visible now.”
 
Miss Sally took my organ in her hand and gently rubbed the lotion over the head with her fingers and her thumbs. As my penis inflated, she started working on the ridges of nerves around the head. From there on it was a full headlong rush to erection.
 
She completed the job by applying the lotion to my shaft.
 
By the time she finished, Mark was rock-solid having watched what Miss Sally was doing to me.
 
“Wow!” an exasperated Marlene said. “I didn’t know it could do that.”
 
“So you girls have seen penises before.”
 
Once again there were three nods.
 
“When? Who?” my mom asked, but Miss Sally cut her off, “Now’s not the time for it. Girls have their ways of finding these things out.”
 
Turning to the girls she asked, “I don’t want details, but tell me that the boy involved was not an adult and that you wanted to see his penis voluntarily and nobody was forced into doing anything.”
 
She got three more nods.
 
Miss Sally went to the sink to wash her hands and talked to our mothers, she said, “Just let your daughters be. They’re not sexual perverts neither are the boys involved. Nor have your girls been scandalized. It’s simple schoolgirl curiosity and they seemed to have handled it quite well. It’s a natural part of growing up.”
 
Turning back to the girls, she said, “Now who wants to help me with Mark?”
 
Three eager hands went up.
 
“It’s time for lesson number one of being a nurse. One of the first things they teach you at nursing school is infection control. Make sure you wash your hands thoroughly before and after touching each patient. Also wash your hands and change your gloves even if you go from one boy to the other.”
 
Miss Sally let each of the girls handle Mark’s penis in turn. She explained the various parts of his penis for their education. To tell you the truth, I was getting an education too. She supervised their every move to make sure they were applying the lotion properly.
 
“Very good, girls,” she concluded. “That was excellent. That’s exactly how to apply the lotion.
 
You’ll have to apply the lotion several times a day. I suggest once again just after supper and again before going to bed.
 
Do them again when they get up in the morning.”
 
“Thank you, Sally,” my mother said, “For everything. … Is there anything we can do to replay you? We at least owe you for the gloves and the ointment.”
 
“Oh nonsense. Don’t worry about it. I volunteer a couple of hours a week at the clinic in the hospital in town. They don’t pay me, but they don’t mind if I take some supplies to keep my medical kit stocked. If you want to pay for the ointment and the gloves, make a donation to the clinic.
 
As for payment of my services; I’m a woman who lives on my own. I like a home-cooked meal. When the wind is right, I can smell how delicious your meals must be. Invite me to breakfast tomorrow and I can check on the boys to see how they are doing. I can also check on my star nurse assistants to see how they are doing. Are you girls OK with that?”
 
“Yes, thank you Miss Sally,” the three girls added.
 
“What about you boys? Aren’t you going to thank Miss Sally?” Aunt Bess added.
 
“Thank you Miss Sally,” I said and was immediately echoed by Mark.
 
“So how long are the boys going to stay naked?” Marlene asked as soon as Miss Sally left.
 
“Today and tomorrow according to Miss Sally. Maybe longer if she says so.”
 
“All the time?” Megan asked.
 
“Yes, all the time.”
 
I figured that this was going to be the longest two days of my life.
 
The girls stood around and stared at us for a while. Finally my mother suggested, “How about some lunch? Why don’t you girls come in the kitchen and help me out?
 
That broke the spell. The girls were getting used to our nudity, and to be quite frank about it, I was getting more comfortable being naked around them. I think it was easier being brought out in front of them already naked. Being naked in front of them was one thing; once the cat is out of the bag, everyone knows it. I’m not sure I could have been convinced to take my clothes off while they watched.
 
At Aunt Bess’ suggestion, the girls were even convinced to leave the house to swim in the pool for a couple of hours. I kind of enjoyed the relative privacy, but missed going to the pool with them. It was kind of boring: the only thing on TV was soap operas at this hour.
 
“I’m sorry you boys can’t go swimming, but aside from being naked, there’s no telling what the chlorine in the pool would do to those rashes.”
 
The girls came back several hours later and took a look at us. They reported that the kids were asking about us. Our sisters simply said that we had a rash and couldn’t go into the pool. One by one, the girls took their showers and got ready for dinner.
 
Immediately after dinner, my sister asked, “It’s time to do the boys. Who gets to do who? We have one girl too many.”
 
My mom had the answer. “Whose turn is it to do the dishes?”
 
“Mine.” “and Mine.” came the less-than-eager responses from Elaine and Marlene.
 
“Then you will be the girls to do the boys. We’ll go in the same two-girls on, one girl off rotation as we do for the dishes. Elaine and Marlene will do them now, and Marlene and Megan will do them before they go to bed. Megan and Elaine will do them in the morning.”
 
“Can we put this on the chore board?” Elaine asked.
 
The chore board was a large sheet of paper posted in the kitchen which listed the chores to do going down and the dates going across. In the individual squares were the names of us children to let us know whose turn it was to do what.
 
“I don’t think so,” mom added.
 
“Why not?”
 
“Because your dads will ask what it’s about. Remember what Miss Sally said about nurse-patient confidentiality.”
 
“So I can’t even tell dad?”
 
“That’s right. It will have to be a secret just among ‘us girls.’ Nobody, I mean nobody else should have to know.”
 
“OK,” my sister said, “So which girl does which boy?”
 
“I’ll leave that to you girls to decide.”
 
“Who do you want?” My sister asked Marlene.
 
“Mark’s my brother. I want to do Steven.”
 
“That sounds fair.”
 
I felt a bit put out over this discussion. The girls were talking about us boys like we weren’t even there. It was like they were trying to decide which girl got to play with which doll. Our opinion wasn’t even considered. But I figured that eventually each girl would wind up touching me, so it really didn’t matter.
 
Although we had the entire cabin, both girls led us to the bathroom to apply the ointment. They did us one at a time with my sister starting with Mark.
 
They giggled as they put on the gloves. “Just like Miss Sally,” my sister said. “We’re like real nurses,” Marlene responded.
 
Both girls went to their task with great enthusiasm. Now that I knew what to expect, I wasn’t as nervous. Also the lotion was working. My penis was feeling a lot better. So when Marlene started to apply the lotion, it felt good. She had me erected in no time.
 
She prolonged the treatment and I wasn’t complaining. After all, as I already mentioned to Mark, I thought his sisters were rather cute. Apparently he found Elaine cute as well if his erect penis was any measure.
 
“That’s enough, girls,” Aunt Bess said, “We don’t want to have any accidents.” I don’t know if the girls knew what she meant by that, but I was disappointed that she made them stop: pain or no pain.
 
The girls declined to go to the rec center that night. “We’d rather stay here and play with the boys. That is, we think it would be nice to keep them company.”
 
My mom said, “That’s nice of you girls to give up your play time for the boys.” We played cards until it got dark. It was kind of nice to sit at the table; I felt less exposed. Mom got us some towels to sit on. A naked butt on wood in the summer sweats and gets uncomfortable. The girls were not too subtle in their attempts to see us as they kept dropping their cards and bending down to get them under the table.
 
When the game broke up, My mom handed my sister some money. “Go on down to the main house and get an ice cream bar for each of you kids.
 
Marlene and Megan, since the boys can’t go out, will you take out the trash for them please?”
 
After the girls left, my mom said, “They grow up so fast.
 
You boys can be proud of your sisters. They are handling this very well.”
 
“And what about us? I asked myself.
 
Elaine returned with the ice cream and mom suggested we sit out on the screened-in porch to eat it. “It’s dark out there. We’ll keep the light out and you’ll be sitting. Nobody will know that you have no clothes on down there.”
 
The five of us were sitting on the porch enjoying our ice cream when a couple of figures approached. I was hoping they would pass by without further incident, but my sister had other ideas.
 
“Hi Ashley. Hi Gina,” Elaine called out.
 
Gina O’Donnell was 15 years old and had a figure worthy of the two-piece bathing suit she wore at the pool. Seeing her in it made me hard all the time. Tonight she and her sister were wearing the Oak Tree Cabins girl’s “uniform:” a T-shirt, bra, short shorts and sneakers. Of course there was no official dress code. That’s how every girl dressed during the summer except for mass on Sunday. Even in that outfit she looked sexy.
 
Her sister, Ashley, was only 12 and not quite as developed, but had the same pretty face. Rumor had it that Ashley had a crush on Mark, so she convinced her sister to stop and talk with us.
 
The girls also liked Gina. She was one of the older girls at the cabins, and they felt grown up by their association with her. I think that’s why my sister called her over. Gina responded, “Oh hi guys. We didn’t see you sitting there in the dark.”
 
“The light’s out,” Marlene offered as an excuse.
 
“We got some spare bulbs in our cabin,” Gina said.
 
I was afraid the girls would take her up on her offer and was relieved when Marlene said, “It’s ok; we’re just eating ice cream. We don’t have to have light to do that.”
 
“How’s the rash, boys?” Ashley asked.
 
Exactly what did our sisters tell these girls? “It’s OK,” I managed to answer. “Miss Sally says we’ll be OK.” I was getting uncomfortable with this line of questioning and Mark wasn’t helping any by staying quiet.
 
I tried to change the subject. “How’s the rec?” I asked.
 
“It’s too bad you guys missed it,” Ashley responded.  “They got some new records in we could dance to. Do you think you’ll be there tomorrow,” she said looking at Mark whose face was now becoming more visible to her as her eyes adjusted to the dark. I was wondering what else might become visible in the darkness.
 
“Well maybe,” Mandy said. “Was George there?” George was a guy Mandy had a crush on. The other two girls kidded her about it and giggled when she asked.
 
“No he wasn’t,” Gina added. “I think he went to the movies with his parents tonight.”
 
I was glad the girls were picking up the conversation. It drew attention away from Mark and me. Tossing the subject of boys into a group of gossiping girls is like throwing some bloody meat into a shark tank: it sparks a feeding frenzy of chatter.
 
This chatter kept up for about 15 more minutes and finally Gina said, “We got to get back to our cabin. We told mom we’d be back by 10. I hope you boys feel better soon.”
 
As the two girls left, I felt relieved, yet there was a certain excitement to it. Here Mark and I sat wearing only a T-shirt, naked from the waist down, penises erected and pointing out into the night talking with two very pretty girls who were standing maybe only a dozen feet away and they hadn’t noticed a thing!
 
It was Marlene and Megan’s turn to apply the lotion to our penises at bedtime, however all three girls crowded into our room. Our moms remained outside. Mark and I laid on our beds on our backs with our butts on the edge and feet on the floor, legs spread far apart. We could not be more exposed if we tried.
 
Marlene took her positions between her brother’s legs while Megan knelt before me. My sister stood between the two girls watching and supervising.
 
Both Mark and I were already fully-erected. The anticipation of having the girls touch us and manipulate our organs excited us. Once again, they took their time applying the ointment. They were already developing their own techniques.
 
Marlene held a small pool of lotion in the palm of her left hand using it sort of like an artist’s pallet. She used the fingers of her right hand as paint brushes gently applying the lotion with delicate strokes. She used her index finger to paint the larger portions of my penis such as the shaft and the head. She used her pinkie to paint the smaller areas such as behind the head.
 
It was wonderful. By now, with two prior applications of the lotion, my penis was almost back to normal. It felt harder than it ever had before, and for all the world, I wanted to wrap my hands around it and jerk off. I knew I couldn’t do that here and now, but I was sure that this was what I was going to think about the next time I did it.
 
I wanted Marlene to wrap her fingers around the shaft and pull on it. I think she was treating it too tenderly for fear of hurting me. But in the meantime, I was going crazy with the stimulation.
 
Suddenly she stopped. I felt a loss as she removed her fingers. “Look what he’s doing.”
 
My sister leaned in and Megan looked over.
 
“Mark’s doing it too,” Megan said in almost a whisper.
 
“What is that?” Marlene asked pointing at the clear drop of liquid at the end of my penis. “It doesn’t look like pee.”
 
“It just happens sometimes,” I managed to explain and then added, “when I get hard.”
 
“Oh,” was the simple response. “I suppose we did it long enough. We better stop and wash up.” I guess the girls didn’t want to push it too far with our moms.
 
Our moms came in and wished us a good night. I wanted more than anything to jerk off, but although Miss Sally didn’t say anything about not touching ourselves, I thought that she would have disapproved. Better to leave it alone until it’s completely healed.
 
Somehow I managed sleep.
 
I woke up the next morning with my usual morning hard-on and turned my head to see my sister. “Oh, good, you’re all ready,” she said. “We can do you now before breakfast.” Megan was beside her looking at the erection sticking up on her still-sleeping brother.
 
Mark wasn’t too happy at being woken up, but was in a much better mood when he discovered what he was waking up to. It was Marlene’s turn to stand back and watch.
 
My sister was more aggressive with playing with my organ than Marlene was. She rubbed a little harder and a little faster. She put a couple of fingers under the head and used her thumbs on top of the head to massage the lotion in. I would have never thought of stimulating myself that way, and I knew that all she had to do was continue for a couple of more minutes and I’d fill her hands with my semen.
 
I was denied that. Once again, the girls decided not to tempt fate with our moms, and stopped early.
 
Miss Sally came over for breakfast and asked us how we were feeling. “Much better,” I responded.
 
“Then step up here and let me take a look.”
 
The girls crowded around as she examined first me then Mark.
 
“It looks like you are recovering nicely. Are you girls having any issues with your duties?”
 
“No Miss Sally.”
 
“Keep up the good work.” I wasn’t sure if her pun was intentional or not. “Don’t forget to wash up and use the gloves.”
 
It felt funny sitting naked again at breakfast and even funnier cleaning up afterwards. The girls cleaned up after supper. It was us boys’ duty to clean up after breakfast. The girls watched as our penises waved back and forth as we collected the dishes.
 
Miss Sally left saying, “The boys are recovering nicely. I’d say have them take a good shower like they did yesterday about mid-day and then put on another application. Then one more application before bedtime.
 
Take a good close look at them in the morning. It should all be clear by then. If so, they can resume normal activities: they can wear their clothes, run, play and even go in the pool. No restrictions.
 
If you see anything at all, give me a call.”
 
We spent the morning playing a board game with the girls. It was nice to have them around to keep us occupied. I’m sure they would have rather been out with their friends. It would have been very boring to be stuck in the cabin with just our moms.
 
Sometimes younger sisters can be so annoying. Sometimes they can be so nice.
 
I did enjoy the two more applications and the next morning both mom and Aunt Bess closely inspected my penis as the girls watched. We got a clean bill of health and got dressed. It felt funny putting on clothes after two days being naked.
 
Mark and I were eager to take off for the woods after being cooped up in the cabin for two days. The girls insisted on coming along. We tried to brush them off, but our moms said, “Boys, the girls have been very nice to you for the last couple of days. They gave up some of their vacation time to take care of you. The least you can do is be nice in return. Let them go on the walk with you.”
 
This was a disappointment since Mark and I were planning on jerking off again. We would look for a much safer place this time. After all the teasing the girls gave us in the past 48 hours, my balls were almost to the bursting point. I had to cum or go mad.
 
We were walking along for about 15 minutes. The girls were sort of hanging back, whispering and giggling with each other. Finally Marlene said, “You know. It was a lot of fun taking care of you boys. We’re sorry we have to stop. We were wondering. I mean, I think there’s a lot more we can learn about being nurses.”
 
“You want to keep doing it?” I asked.
 
“Yes, if you boys are willing.” Marlene said, pulling the tube of ointment and a pair of rubber gloves from her shorts pocket.
 
I stood there thinking about it for a couple of seconds envisioning all the things I wanted to teach them about handling my penis. I turned to ask Mark’s opinion only to see him unzipping his fly and taking out his already erecting penis.
 
“Let’s find a spot off the trail,” I suggested.



 


   


(The End)