“The next day, during lunch recess, I said, 'Let's go exploring again.'
“Dorothy giggled, and said, 'Okay. You really like exploring, don't you?'
“'Yeah!'
“We disappeared into the bushes, went right to our snug little place, and, without waiting for an invitation, I whipped up my skirt and slid down my panties and then laid down on my back with my legs apart.
“'Roll over,' said Dorothy.
“I was puzzled. 'What are you going to do now?'
“'You'll see.'
“I decided to take her word for it and flipped over onto my tummy so that my bare bottom was right under her nose. I should have felt embarrassed about the whole thing, but all I felt was excited.
“'I didn't really finger-poke you the last time.
Now I will.'
“I felt her finger working around my pussy and the tip of it go in. It sent shivers up my spine, delicious shivers. Then she started working it in, right into my vagina.
“'Ohhhhh!' I gasped.
“'Feel good?'
“'It feels funny.'
“She continued to wriggle and push, and her finger went in me deeper and deeper. It was a nice feeling, not really wild like the day before, but nice. I closed my eyes, relaxed, and just let her finger go in. Pretty soon it was in all the way. Then she started pumping, and that's when it started feeling good. The sweet ecstasy of it started building up and I started moaning. Then, as I was about to reach my climax, I had this overpowering wish to have something pushed up my rear. I don't know where that feeling came from, and it really took me by surprise.
“'Oooooh! Oooooh! Stick your finger up my fanny! Please! Ooooh, I want something up my fanny!'
“It took Dorothy by surprise too, but I felt her finger between my cheeks, and then pushing its way up my backside. Having a finger in front and a finger in back was just too much and I had a terrific orgasm.
“'Ooooh, it feels good! Ooooh! Ooooh! Way in! I want it way in!'
“Boy, did I come! It was terrific! Dorothy just stared at me in amazement; she said my bottom was bouncing so much she had a hard time keeping her fingers up me.
“'You are one sexy wahine!' she exclaimed.
“'I guess I am.'
“After that, Dorothy and I used to go to the bushes quite a lot. We didn't dare go all the time, because we were scared to death that somebody'd notice us and follow us, especially boys. I hate boys! Who needs 'em? Dorothy used to finger-poke me, and then I started doing it to her. We kept the fingernails of our forefingers clipped real short so they wouldn't hurt.
“One time when we were in there, I crouched down on all fours, dress up, panties down, and asked Dorothy to stick a ball-point pen up my rear and finger-poke me at the same time. Wow, that was terrific! I found that it was much more exciting to finger-poke and have something go up my behind at the same time than just to finger- poke.
“After she did that to me, I did it to her. She lay on her stomach with her dress up while I finger-poked her. I also worked the pen up her rear. But she didn't like that so much, and couldn't see why I did. I think you either like having something up your rear a lot or not at all.
“Then came disaster. One day, toward the end of the school year, Dorothy and I headed for our favorite place in the bushes, and I was down on my tummy with my dress practically up to my neck, my panties off, and my legs spread wide. Dorothy was finger-poking me and, at the same time, pushing a candle up my bottom. It was terrific, and I was moaning and moaning when Dorothy suddenly stopped and said, 'Oh-oh!'
“I looked up and there was one of the teachers, horror written all over her face.
“'What in the world are you girls doing?' she exclaimed.
“It just had to be this particular bitch, a real straitlaced type. I started scrambling to get my clothes on while Dorothy just sat there, her eyes wide open and mouth drooping.
“The teacher was mean. She yanked us to our feet, called us filthy degenerates, and told us we'd be sorry, that we'd probably get kicked out of school, and that we ought to be locked up over in Kaneohe where the mental hospital is. Dorothy and I were sobbing. We begged her not to tell anybody, least of all our folks, but she said we were going to the principal's office right now and our folks would surely know about it. Then she went on muttering about how we were degenerates and perverts and what a bad influence we were on the rest of the kids.
“The principal was nicer. She was more liberal in the way she looked at things, and we could tell, from the way she talked, that she didn't approve of the teacher's way of handling us. It was awfully shameful, though, anyway you look at it, and we just couldn't stop crying. Of course, we made so much commotion, crying and everything, that the kids in the playground noticed, and that was even more humiliating because it felt like everybody knew what we'd been doing.
“The teacher told the principal that she'd found us in the bushes and that it was so shameful that she couldn't bring herself to describe what we were doing. The principal nodded and said that she would talk with us.
“'I gather you two were up to something,' she said when the teacher was gone. She thought a moment, and then said, 'I think I'll have to have a little talk with your parents and perhaps arrange for you to see a psychiatrist.'
“'Please don't tell our folks,' we both pleaded, bursting into tears again.
“She calmed us down, and told us not to get upset, that lots of people do what we were doing, but that it's kind of like being sick, and the time to treat sickness is at the beginning. She assured us that our folks would understand when it was all explained to them. We said they wouldn't.
“Dorothy and I were right. We knew we would be because we knew our folks and the principal didn't. A couple of days later I saw our car parked in front of the school and I knew Mom was there with the principal and that as soon as I got home I was going to get it. And I was right, too.
“No sooner had I come in the door, all sheepish and scared, than Mom jumped on me.
“'You disgraceful little whore!' she yelled. 'I'll teach you.'
“She called me a pervert, too, and said that no daughter of hers was going to be a queer and that she'd knock that nonsense right out of me here and now. With that she yanked me into the bedroom, grabbed me, pulled me over her knee, rolled up my dress, pulled down my panties and started to spank me hard on the bare bottom. She hadn't done that to me since I was very little.
“I cried and yelped, and it was just awful, but the funny part of it was that I sort of liked it, too. I really didn't mind how much it hurt. In fact, I even liked how the hairbrush stung, and the fact that Mom was so stern and hard-nosed about it.
“'Please don't spank me anymore,' I kept pleading, and she said she'd stop when I promised never never to do anything with Dorothy again. I did, and, after a couple more good swats, she let me go. It was quite a while before I could sit down.
“The next day at school Dorothy told me her mother had gotten all upset, like she knew she would, and that she was going to be taken to a psychiatrist. Dorothy didn't get a licking.
“Dorothy and I didn't see each other much after that, and, by the time school was out, the whole thing seemed to be over and forgotten. Only I didn't forget it, and I kept wishing that it would happen again.
“That summer some friends came to visit us from Maui and brought their son with them. He was my age, sort of a tall gangling guy, kind of a sissy. I didn't much like him at first. My dad was on vacation and we went on picnics a lot and did a lot of swimming, especially over on the other side of the island, over by Lanikai.
“One time this boy, his name was Billy, raced me out to the raft off the beach. I won. Afterwards we stretched out on the raft in the sun, soaking up the heat, and started talking. It was really the first time I'd talked with him because mostly I'd been snubbing him. He had a horse back home on Maui and he talked about that, and about the stuff kids do around there. And then, somehow, I don't know how, we got on to sex.
“'Have you ever been fucked?' he asked me, after we'd been talking about it for a while.
“I shook my head. 'Nope. I guess it's different with girls. I don't think I'll do it until I get married.'
“'I don't agree with that,' he said. 'By the time you're old enough to get married you're already too old for it to be any good. People are always saying you should save it for marriage, but marriage is a real drag. I don't ever
