THE NEW YEAR BONUS
My husband and I run a retreat for nudists on the Helshoogte road between Stellenbosch and Franschhoek in the Western Cape. It is a small farm situated on the slope of the mountain which has never been cultivated. The few pines which were planted there a century ago, were removed as soon as we had acquired property, and it has now completely returned to its original condition. It is truly a beautiful setting with a variety of proteas, heather and other
fynbos
which we are developing as a private nature reserve, with footpaths and little hides from where animals may be observed - there is quite a variety of birds - or where nature lovers can make love.
Most of our club members drop in over weekends and when the weather is inclement, we gather in the big lounge of the original homestead, drink wine and eat bread, olives and fruit. It is the opportunity for members to share some of their experiences with the group. It was on such an occasion in spring this year that Eben came forward to share something quite special with us.
At the beginning of my Matric year [Eben said], my dad came to me where I was building a little birdhouse in the workshop and, watching the construction until it was finished, he said, 'Eben, you've done very well in your studies thus far. If you can keep this up and obtain your admission to Engineering, I will give you a very special bonus.'
'What would that be, dad?'
He smiled and replied, 'What do you say to three weeks at the beach cottage in January next year?'
Now I knew my dad and that he could be mischievous at times, but I honestly loved him because all along he had given me good counsel and support. However, a family holiday was not my idea of a 'special bonus', so I ventured to say, 'What would be special about it, dad?'
'It would be for you and a couple of friends you choose. You'll get your driver's licence in July when you turn eighteen, and then you can drive there yourself, and I'll give you some spending money.'
'What about the family? Are you not going to Kleinmond this year?'
'We will be home till after Christmas, Eben, but your mother and I plan to visit her parents in Springbok on the West Coast, then my parents in Bloemfontein, then we'll join you at the beach house. Your sister and her husband will join us for a few days as well, so we will be a family then. It means that the house is yours for the first three weeks of January..'
'Can I ask a girl?'
He grinned. 'That is completely up to you, Eben. You can even go as two or three couples, if you can all fit into mom's car.'
That sounded good!
Several times during the year I considered whom I should invite. I was 'seeing' Merle Mason at the time - we went for a walk once in a while - and I was allowed to kiss and neck her, but when I suggested that she joins me (or 'us') at the end of the year, she called me a dirty-minded pervert and severed all contact with me after that. So, she was out. The problem was that there was no other good candidate among my acquaintances. There were nice girls, but they were going steady, while the ones who would be prepared to go, were not exactly desirable. One was a fat glutton and the other one was a stranger to soap. I was not keen to scrub a girl clean before I took her to bed: close contact - real intimacy - was, after all, the whole purpose of the holiday. I was still a virgin, and you want to have a pleasant introduction to your sex life.
The final exam at year end was a breeze and after the final paper I started planning for the holiday. Just after Christmas I learnt that I had far exceeded the minimum requirements for Engineering. Now I was desperate, because it seemed as though my 'special bonus' would be nothing special, but my dad consoled me. 'Take Tinus and Gerrie with you. You're good friends and once there, you will find umpteen girls. Then you can pick and choose.' Then he said something which I will never forget. He said, 'Girls come in different shapes and sizes and with a wide range of temperaments, Eben. From what I know about you, I would say your soulmate would be a Ming vase rather than a tin pot.' I wasn't so sure about finding the right girl at Kleinmond, but just before New Year I left with the two friends, Gerrie and Tinus, for the beach house, less than an hour's drive from home.
Gerhard was called Gerrie by his immediate family, but Pinocchio by all others, because of his very prominent nose. The playground story was that he could bring a girl to climax by merely rubbing his nose in her fanny. I knew that he was still a virgin, like myself, even though he'd been into heavy petting for the last couple of months. Tinus, who was a year older than us and clerking at an attorney's in Stellenbosch, was nicknamed Riem, which means
thong
, a reference to his extraordinary sex equipment. Riem was 'experienced, because the girls flipped - and stripped - for him without batting an eyelid. He promised to be our mentor in love matters now that we were on our own and gearing up for full-blown manhood.
The beach house was actually two flats, one on top of the other, on the beachfront and close to the little Kleinmond harbour; we planned to occupy the top storey, unless we attracted such a horde of girls that it would necessitate expanding downstairs. Wishful thinking! Riem assured us that during holiday time girls on the beach grow handles and can be picked up 'as easily as a mug of beer'. Then he would entertain us with stories of his past conquests in lurid detail, which left Pinocchio and myself horny and frustrated. To have such a Casanova for a companion is not always a blessing, but we did gather some pointers on how to 'manage' a girl once you get a grip on the handle. Pinocchio thought that a good pair of knockers was as good a handle as a man could want, and then you pull her close with a hooked index finger...
But I must say, I was disappointed. Perhaps because I lack Riem's special endowment or even his panache, no girl gave me a second glance as we wandered through the holiday crowds. There was a barn dance on the beach the second evening, but I failed to 'click'. One 'clinging peach' did make a grab for me, but she stumbled and went down on her face. Her short dress was bundled up under her belt and she was not wearing anything underneath. A couple of fellows picked her up and carried her off, one muttering, 'Stoned out of her mind.' I thought that one could just as well screw a knothole in a door. As my dad had observed, I have a romantic inclination and would prefer a girl who knew exactly what we were doing and could enjoy it, so that I could enjoy it too.