A few years ago I wrote an erotic romance entitled Smitten. This is an adaptation with less romance and added sex.
*****
It's a fiction set during WWII in England when 18 year olds were innocent and naΓ―ve - and most were virgins!
It was the spring of '44 and I'd been called up. I was to report to the barracks on the following Monday and I guess it was nostalgia for our youth that drew Steve and I to the water hole in Bill's Wood. The pond wasn't very large, but big enough to swim five strokes from one end to the other. We used it because the kids preferred the larger one half a mile away.
Although early April, it was a warm day and we were swimming. Naked. We splashed about and laughed and, I presume it was our noise that meant we didn't see her.
'Hi Will. Hi Steve.'
It was my elder sister Diane. She wore a pale blue dress, a denim coloured cotton, buttoned at the front from top to bottom. She had sandals and ankle socks ... white. The dress was old, not tattered, but faded. Clothes rationing forced us to wear our clothes way beyond their best. Even so, she was so beautiful, though I'd never told her.
She laughed at us, a teasing snigger. 'Where are your clothes, lads?'
It was instinctive to look to the spot on the grass where we'd left two bundles of clothing. They'd gone.
Steve was the first to respond, he waded through the water, but skidded in the thick mud on the bank. Despite that, he was soon back on his feet and after her.
I was out of the water in a search for our clothes. It took a minute before I located them, bundled behind a nearby oak. While I'd been in a rummage through the undergrowth, Steve had shouted for me. I pulled on my trousers - no pants, and followed his voice.
I found them fifty yards down the trail. He had her pinned against a tree, although it was obvious he was about to lose her. Steve was short for his age, whereas she was almost twenty and a good four inches taller. We were all slim, there were few fat kids during wartime, but Diane was that bit stronger. However, against the two of us, she had no chance, and we soon frog marched her back to the pond.
'What should we do with her, Will?'
'How should I know?'
'Whatever you do, you mustn't mud bath me.' Her pale blue eyes stared into mine. I swear she blushed a little.
'Good idea,' agreed Steve, as he struggled to wrestle her to the ground.
I helped him, wondering why she'd suggested her own reprisal. It didn't make sense.
Diane lay on the grass, her arms pinned down by Steve, while I part sat and part lay along her legs.
'Now what?' I queried. 'How do we get mud and stop her from escaping?'
Steve stared at the pond, ten feet away. 'Will, can you hold her while I get the muck?'
'I suppose.' I shrugged. 'I'm bigger than you, so best for me to give it a try.' I leaned forward until my torso rested on hers. 'Go on, quick before she tries to escape.'
While Steve scooped up a double handful of mud, I rested full length on Diane. I was amazed. She didn't struggle, but lay dormant as though afraid to move. My head rested beside hers and I could feel the warmth of her soft breath on my cheek.
When Steve returned, I sat up and repositioned myself until I straddled her hips, my thighs acting as a gentle restraint.
He looked down at us, as mud drips splattered on the grass. 'What do we do now? Sprawl it over her?' His eyes pleaded with me. 'Will?'
Diane twisted her head until she could see him. 'Steve Potts, if you ruin my dress, my mum will flay you alive.'
Steve's eyes began to bat. Not only did they open and close in rapid succession, but his face scrunched up with each eye movement.
'Calm down, Steve. She's kidding you.'
He didn't look convinced. 'What can we do, Will?'
'Suppose we pull off her dress.' As I uttered the words, I was nearly sick. I couldn't believe I'd dared to say them. For the moment I'd forgotten she was my sister.
Her face was impassive. Astounded by her indifference at my outrageous suggestion, I asked, 'Diane, is that OK?' It was a stupid question.
There was no reply, yet I was sure I detected a faint smile which seemed to inform me she was in agreement. She gazed at me in a way I'd never seen before and it unnerved me and I looked away. Steve and I exchanged glances, undecided as to our next action.
Diane began to unbutton her dress, while we stared in awe. Halfway down, with her hands mere inches from my crutch, she gazed up at me. From her expectant look, I guessed what she wanted and moved out of her way. I slid down and knelt astride her, with my lower limbs and her thighs in tender contact.
She tugged up the light fabric, pulled it around her waist and released the remaining buttons. Without hesitation, she pulled the dress apart so the two halves lay on the grass. Diane stretched out on her dress, seemingly relaxed despite her exposure. Her bra and panties were white cotton, simple and basic - sexless by comparison with modern lingerie. To me, it was the most incredible sight I'd seen and I nearly fainted at what she did next.
She arched her body from the ground and her hands slipped behind her back. With a quick flick, she pulled the bra loose and tossed it onto the grass. She looked up at me. 'Mum would kill me if you ruined it.' She winked at me and I sensed the burning of my face.
My heart clambered into my mouth and I gazed in awe of her. I'd never seen breasts and hers were exquisite, with the palest of pink tips.
Steve's eyes explored her body. They still batted open and shut, and a nervous twitch of his head added to his ludicrous appearance. He allowed the lumps of mud to fall from his grasp and they splattered onto her chest with the sound of gentle slaps. He grabbed her wrists and forced them to the ground. 'Go on then,' he gestured to me. 'Rub it in.'
'Why me?' I protested.
'Cause I'm holding her arms.'
She lay motionless. It didn't appear she required any constraint. It was as though Diane was eager to get a mud bath. Nevertheless, I accepted his logic, swallowed deep and forced my hands towards her bosom. As much as possible, I avoided physical contact with her chest as I retrieved handfuls of mud. It was smeared over her, and beginning at her stomach, my strokes layered the sludge with firm pressure.
'Will, not so hard,' she hushed. 'Be gentle with me.' The reprimand was given in such a soft whisper, it excited me in a way I couldn't comprehend.
With care, I smoothed the mud over her stomach and midriff until my hands were poised below her breasts. I examined her face. Was it a dare? She nodded her approval as though she could read my mind. I felt the need to form an additional barrier between my massage and her audacious breasts, and asked Steve for another helping from the bank. He returned and, that time, avoided her body as he deposited a massive load onto the grass. It splashed down and large gobs showered the girl and I. Steve grabbed hold of her wrists and sat cross-legged.
I scooped up a handful and smeared it over her breasts. I spread it into her skin and in a short while, the muck was no longer sticky. The more it smoothed over her, it became thinner, turning soft and silky like her skin. Within a short time, it was almost water and, through the thin film of dirty liquid, I sensed her nipples as they pressed against my palms. I continued to roll my hands over them, conscious of a curious sensation in my stomach.
She groaned, a sound that resonated deep within her throat. Not only once, but over and over, like an animal in pain.
Steve's eye batting had increased in intensity, but her moans changed that. Wide-eyed, unblinking, he stared at her.
In addition to the unusual sounds from her open mouth, Diane's eyes were half closed and her head lolled to the right.
It was too much for Steve, he abandoned his responsibility and forced himself up onto shaky legs.
'Hey,' I complained. 'You let her go.'
'What was that noise?' he whispered. 'Why did she do that?'
'How should I know?'
He gathered his clothes and pulled them on while he continued to stare at her. 'I have to go,' he squealed. 'You coming?'
My gaze lowered to Diane. Her eyes were glazed as they bore into mine. She shook her head from side to side as if to deny my absence. I didn't know why, but there was nothing on earth that could have persuaded me to leave her.
Steve sat on the grass as he struggled to pull on his boots. 'OK,' he said. 'See you tomorrow?'
'Yes. Come round after tea. Usual time.'
'What shall we do? Go to the pub or the pictures?'
My mind couldn't cope with such trivia. 'Er, what?' I replied, while her eyes locked onto mine. 'Oh yes, I don't care what we do.'