Chapter 9: Adelaide or Bust
Prior to Helen and myself migrating to Australia, in 1974, my older sister Sarah left for a trip to Canada. She was already there when we left England so we had not seen her for well over a year. Her and her late boyfriend had also intended to migrate over to Australia as well and had actually put in their applications to apply when he tragically died in a motorcycle accident. As you can imagine, she had taken it very badly and she needed to get away from the familiar things around her that constantly reminded her of him. To try to get herself together again, she organised a trip with a girl friend to visit our relations in Vancouver. She then used this as a base to see more of the country.
When we received word in a letter from my father that after her return to London she was finding it hard to settle down, we decided to invite her to visit us in Melbourne. She readily accepted our offer and arrived in early November, at the start of the warmer part of the year in Australia.
Taking a week off, we decided to take her on a trip around the south coast of Victoria, all the way to Adelaide in South Australia. We now had acquired a Volkswagen kombi van, which although was not fitted out as a camper, allowed Sarah to sleep quite comfortably on the back seat, whilst Helen and I used our frame tent that we had brought over with us.
The start of the trip was quite uneventful with Sarah sleeping a lot of the time while we were driving, possibly to get over her jet lag. During the times that she was awake however, she often used to vividly recount some of the adventures her and her friend Carol had experienced in Canada which made it sound like she had a really good time with all her friends. However, her continued lack of get up and go on this trip so far, made me question as to whether her over colourful accounts of these very recent exploits may have just been a bit spiced up as a smokescreen to prevent us from really fully appreciating just how much the deep feelings of grief at her loss of Dave, her boyfriend, had really had on her. I felt though, that it was understandable that she should still be in a state of mourning over this very sad episode in her life and I tried to be as considerate as I could be, sometimes holding back my feelings of frustration when she continually just slept as we drove through some of the most beautiful scenery you could ever wish to see.
She did, however on several occasions, go over an episode where her and Carol spent a quite few weekends at one of the campsites by a lake, somewhere in British Columbia, on the far West coast of Canada. She told us that her and her friend went with a whole group of people, but mostly guys and made the repeated point that they often used to skinny dip in mixed company together, which surprised me as I had never picked my sister as a nature loving girl. She mentioned it in such a mater of fact way that I got the impression that she was trying to impress us by telling us about her out of character behavior. Helen, in turn, informed her that we were also used to going nude when at the beach or at the lake and Sarah didn't seem too shocked by this revelation either, commenting that at least we had better weather for it here. Helen asked her if it would bother her, if the situation were to arise, if we were to get our gear off if we found a suitable beach on our travels and Sarah responded that it wouldn't. I had not planned to extend my naturist activities to include my sister and therefore the idea of exposing myself to my own flesh and blood didn't sit too comfortably with me.
Helen had read in the same naturist magazine that her photos had appeared in, that there was a stretch of coast not far from Adelaide, called Maslins beach, where nudity was accepted so between us, we made the decision that should we be able to find it without too much hassle then we would go there and spend a whole day relaxing before exploring Adelaide proper.
Our trip had been fairly tiring, what with me having done all the driving, so I was quite happy to be able to plan a day off, so as to speak. With Helen navigating we managed to find the locality without any problems and soon found a parking space in the well organised parking area.
Like Somers, the car park was a fair distance from the actual beach and we had to climb down a long flight of steps to even get down to sea level. There were some really high sandstone cliffs all the way along the water's edge and you could quite easily have been on a Greek Mediterranean Island instead of an Australian beach. The water was crystal clear and a lovely shade of blue with the sand being soft, fine and very white in colour. It was a Saturday and there were more sunbathers there than I had ever seen at Somers and the surprising thing was that there were as many children there as there were adults. The beach had a genuine family atmosphere about it with very little of the latent sexual undertones that I always felt when at our usual haunt.
When we eventually decided on an uncrowded spot to claim as our own, being surrounded by so many other undressed people, I did not feel in the least bit hesitant about stripping off, and did so without hardly a second thought. Helen and Sarah did likewise and we soon all ended up in the warm water swimming and diving under to inspect the sea life below. The water was so clean that even without a mask it was quite easy to sea the many small fish swimming around us, even though the view was a bit blurry. It occurred to me that this was the first time since Sarah and I were just toddlers and used to get bathed together that we had been nude in front of one another and neither of us seemed to be at all self conscious about the fact. All three of us had no signs of any cossy marks and Sarah had a particularly good all over tan.
Even though it was about six or seven years since I had first seen my sister in the altogether, although she never knew about it, she was just as I had remembered her. Her breasts were firm and pointy and her nipples were still dark brown and long, looking like they were in a continual state of erectness. They reminded me a bit of Jane's elongated teats but Sarah had a definite outer circle surrounding her's unlike Jane who just had the long teats.
Although we both shared the same parents, Sarah had an almost olive complexion compared to my much paler skin tones. She was very lucky as she always acquired a lovely tan in a very short period of time and never ever used any suntan lotion to achieve it. She never used any suntan lotion to protect her skin either. Although she had very fair coloured hair, almost blond, her pubes were almost a reddish colour. Again just as I had remembered them, these hairs were very thick, course and curly and were as close as I could come to describe them, luxuriant in their quality.
The complete absence of any self consciousness about her own nakedness, as well as everyone else's, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, was unexpected but very pleasing and especially so as her younger brother was here totally nude too and checking her out in a not too subtle manner. My presence didn't seem to perturb her at all. Helen had continued with her custom of completely shaving her fanny and on this one point, Sarah did however, seem to take a more than a keen interest. Asking her why she kept it devoid of it's natural covering, Helen explained to Sarah that she had kept it this way since she first did some nude modeling at Somers beach but the main reason she shaved it now was because she had got used to it being smooth and that she just preferred it that way. She went on to further justify it by adding that as you were nude anyway, why bother hiding the single thing that men really wanted to see. She continued by faithfully quoting the photographer Greg's words about there being no sin in beauty or about there being no degrees of nudity so why not show the lot off as it's only what nature has given us anyway. She finished her lecture by adding that there shouldn't be any part of our bodies that we should be ashamed of.
Sarah seemed to accept Helen's drawn out explanation without any argument but added that she didn't think she would be game to do it to herself. I think she meant not going smooth but Helen obviously thought she meant the actual shaving process.
"Oh, I always get Steve to do mine for me as he's always so careful and hardly ever nicks me, if you ask him nicely, perhaps he could do yours for you too."
Listening to them both discuss these very personal maters that were of such an intimate nature, so openly and in front of me, as usual dumbfounded me. Even more so, Helen's eventual unexpected offer conjured up some truly weird images in my head. Just the thought of me shaving my own sister's pussy began to overpower me with a feeling that could only be described as mortification, but what felt even worse was the fact that at the same time, I knew that for some reason I was getting strangely aroused by the idea.
Even though Sarah, by anyone's standards was unquestionably attractive, especially here and now, being starkers in front of me, I had never before had any thoughts of a sexual nature cross my mind that concerned her, but Helen's offer of me to act as her very personal barber had in an instant changed all that and I had to look away and pretend that I had not heard the previous conversation. All I could now think about was about what her fanny would look like hairless and smooth. I couldn't help wondering whether her inner lips would protrude like Helen's or would they be tucked in like a lot of girl's are.
Luckily, Sarah did not reply to Helen's offer and I felt safer in the knowledge that I would not now have to respond in any way regarding this matter.
With smooth fannies on my mind, one thing I couldn't help but notice, was that unlike on Somers beach, none of the other women here, those that I could see anyway, had their fannies clean shaven so it made me wonder if this custom, therefore was perhaps peculiar only to Victorian nudists. As well as this, there also seemed to be a slightly different code of etiquette on this beach from what I could observe, with most of the women being very correct and discreet about just how they positioned themselves whilst laying on their backs or sitting up, their knees always seeming to be tightly locked together. This difference made Helen's nether regions a popular destination for a lot of the passing men's stares as she uninhibitedly sat and laid with her legs splayed apart, almost inviting everyone to have a closer look at her well oiled innards. All this extra male attention she was receiving was hard to ignore and from experience, I knew that she would be getting a huge kick out of it.
In a recent photo shoot she had done, which I might recount at a later time, she had been given a tip on how to keep her inner lips separated and on show by placing a previously chewed piece of spearmint gum behind each inner flap and pulling them aside and pushing them back where they would steadfastly remain until the gum was removed. Helen had once done this when at Somers beach as a dare from me and some erotic thoughts of it came flooding back. When Sarah pointed out the obvious to Helen about the fact that her lack of hair seemed to be of huge interest to most of the guys who had passed by, Helen went to her bag.