What Sandy Was Not Told Ch. 02

Rick and I nodded with suppressed grins. Mary didn't understand immediately, but then said:

"Oh, you mean these," and glanced down at them and looked back up at us for confirmation."

When we smiled and nodded, she said:

"I thought the guys were just being polite - the couple that have seen them. ... Oh, I know they're bigger than some."

"Size isn't everything," I remarked: "... I thought only artists imagined they could be like yours."

Rick nodded and looked at them again as he agreed:

"I did too. ... Oh, I know: Boucher, 18th century, ... and Fragonard, ... and Courbet, 19th century, ... probably others, but those are the ones I remember, like yours."

Mary's nipples had popped out again at his appreciative comparison, making them look even more perfect, as Rick added:

"Renoir and Baroque artists, too, but their girls are all a little overweight."

Mary certainly wasn't and grinned at this indirect compliment. Jean snorted and repeated:

"They really are lovely."

"Yours are too," Mary replied (true enough, if we hadn't had hers for comparison), but she seemed a little embarrassed at all this interest in her breasts, not blushing, but putting her hands over them as she smiled slightly. That didn't upset the image of youthful innocence. On the contrary, her gesture heightened it, suggesting a young and very attractive girl's awareness that she was nude and being observed - delightful!

Ah, I thought, that was what had seemed so innocent about her breasts before, when I had first seen them: her revealing them as though she were completely unaware of them, innocent of any thoughts about their sexual appeal. But Mary wasn't really so innocent, maybe only in her unabashed outspokenness, open curiosity and willingness to say whatever came to mind about sex - also delightful.

After a moment, she lowered her hands and remarked enthusiastically:

"Gosh, this is great. ... Hm-hmm! Glad my mother gave me the pill. I guess she knows I do it, but that surprised me, ... and I wasn't thinking I needed them. Good thing I took them anyway."

She chuckled with us as I hoped that Rick had asked her. I had assumed that Jean would have let me know if she didn't. She nodded with a smile and agreed:

"Yeah, good thing." Mary grinned and then asked Rick:

"Who were those artists? Really, like me?"

Rick chuckled and replied:

"Almost. You probably know one of Manet's paintings, a picnic in a park, the nude girl sitting with two men in their clothing."

"Oh yeah. That always surprised me when I've seen it in a book; she seems so unconcerned about sitting with them like that."

"Like us," Jean commented and kicked back the cover. It had become warmer with the sun on the tent.

"Um-hmm," Mary agreed, and did the same:

"... but we're all naked. That makes a difference."

For a moment, we looked at each other. Jean did have strong thighs, and Mary's legs seemed the proper addition to what we had seen already. The girls didn't hesitate to look down at Rick and me. Rick snorted and agreed:

"It does. ... Oh, Courbet painted a picture of a woman lying on her back, a view from her thighs - open - to her breasts ..."

"Really! Like that?" Mary asked: "... Hair and everything?!"

"I guess; I don't think it's in any books, just read about it: called 'The Origin of the World'."

"Oh, I guess not. Hm-hmm! 'Origin of the World,' hmm!"

We all chuckled again, and then Mary asked:

"I wonder what Trish and Pat are doing. ... What they did last night."

"They'll tell us if they want to," Jean replied, sounding like an older sister.

Mary seemed to catch the damper on her curiosity, but still remarked:

"I hope they didn't go off just to leave us alone."

I wanted to reply that I did too, but remembered Jean's tone. Rick had a better response:

"Maybe we should go look for them."

"Good idea," Jean agreed.

Rick and I had to crawl around to find our clothes. The girls seem to enjoy watching us when we stood up to get dressed. Mary snickered when she saw that we both didn't put on underpants and asked:

"Don't American boys wear underpants?"

"Not when we hope that they could get in the way," I replied, She giggled, Jean just chuckling, chuckling again as she stood up and offered:

"You can look at us too."

We did, and she looked very good, even turning and raising her hands to her hair. Mary just stood up, smiling almost a little shyly as we enjoyed the view of her in her full glory, really a painter's model. And then we were off.

After a few steps, Rick suggested that we go to the bathroom first, and I suggested with a snicker that we wash a little. He snorted and replied:

"You think so? Good idea."

On the way to our tent, we both chuckled and Rick said:

"This is going to be interesting."

We scratched on the tent before we opened it. The girls looked up at us with smiles as we crawled into the tent. They were both naked, apparently having kicked back the sleeping bag they had used as a cover. We hadn't left them the way we had used them night before, so it was obvious that they had decided to share a larger bed.

"Another picture by Courbet," Rick murmured as Pat said:

"Glad you came first. We were wondering how we should get back to our tent, ... whenever. Didn't want to ..., well, it could have been interesting to walk in on you four."

"Oh, we would have been terribly embarrassed, naked in the presence of two girls in clothes," I replied facetiously.

We all chuckled and Pat replied - equally facetiously:

"I bet, .... like us now," and covered herself with her hands. Rick replied, also facetiously:

"Oh, sorry. We won't look while you get dressed."

"I've got a better idea," she replied with a smirk and took her hands away.

Trish had just snickered, her nipples aroused, and now nodded in agreement. As Rick and I took off our shoes - feet still outside the tent - she asked:

"What was that about a picture." With a snort, Rick explained:

We had been talking about artists who painted girls with figures like Mary's ..."

The girls nodded and chuckled.

"and one was Courbet, who also painted a picture of two girls sleeping together, ... well, more suggestively, their legs overlapping."

The girls snorted, and their nipples popped up. Trish rubbed hers as Pat replied:

"Really? Like that?" and then she smirked and put her leg over Trish's.

"Um-hmm," Rick agreed as we started to take off our shirts.

Trish looked embarrassed at what Pat had done, but didn't do anything to suggest that she remove her leg. We took off our pants, and they chuckled when they saw that we didn't have any underpants, and then we were sitting beside them in the space they had made for us by moving closer together.

Pat rubbed Trish's calf with her foot, who looked a little uncomfortable at this familiarity. Pat looked over at her questioningly, rubbing her calf again, and then with a resigned expression and a snort, Trish nodded and murmured:

"I guess so."

Pat gave her a brief smile of thanks and said softly:

"She let me do it."

"Good," Trish add, now looking relieved that the secret was out, managing a smile at Rick and me.

Pat reached over and held her breast. Trish snorted again, glancing at her, and then took a deeper breath and murmured:

So I did too, ... to be fair," again looking relieved that she had managed to admit it.

Pat nodded with a smile as her fingers massaged Trish's breast and confirmed:

"Real good." Trish nodded with a snort.

"I like that," I murmured, and Rick nodded.

"We know why," Pat agreed, changing the meaning of what I had said, but Trish nodded with another snort, and then took the initiative:

"So we both did it again ... later."

Pat snorted with a nod, and another nod as Trish reached over and found her breast.

"I like that," Risk said it this time, and we all smiled in agreement. Then Pat snorted and said:

"But since you're here ..." and smirked.

I snickered with a grin and replied:

"If it was 'real good', we could do it like the Dutch girls suggested.

Pat must have been paying better attention at the time, maybe already more receptive to the idea of girls doing it; she snorted with a wink. Trish asked:

"How was that?" and glanced back and forth from me to Rick questioningly.

"They were doing it and asked us to ... join in."

"Oh, yeah," she replied, apparently remembering, and then looked over at Pat, who nodded slightly, and asked softly:

"You want to do that?"

"Why not? ... Must be good - a ... man, and that, too."

Trish snickered with a nod and an expression that suggested that she had only wanted confirmation of Pat's agreement, and we all chuckled as we exchanged smiles.

"It will be good, better - without rubbers," I remarked, and the girls chuckled again. Pat sat up and began to turn around.

"You better help us first," Rick suggested. They both glanced at the nearest cock, obviously not ready for what we were talking about, and looked up at us. I answered the question in their eyes:

"No, we haven't done it this morning, but we did wash."

They snickered and reached for our cocks, moving around to find them with their mouths.

"Hmm! This too," Trish remarked cheerfully as Pat was saying:

"That wouldn't have mattered; we know how it tastes."

Then they were arousing us, obviously enjoying it as much as we were. When Pat thought that "her" cock was sufficiently aroused, she raised her head and remarked with a chuckle:

"Now 'every which way', to quote Mary," and began to turn around towards Trish, who let "her" cock slip for her mouth with a chuckle as she mirrored Pat's movement.

They curled up with their heads between each other's thighs. Rick and I quickly lay down behind them. Yes, much better without a rubber, her tongue - now the other one's tongue - finding him, caressing him for a few moments and then helping him find her girlfriend's pussy. Mmmm!

It was like with Geerta and Marga, of course, but really better, without a rubber, and when I intentionally let him slip out, enjoying her sucking on him for a few moments before she guided him back into that nice warm, slippery pussy, that gave him a welcoming squeeze as I squeezed its owner's breast.

Then it was as good as it could be. ... Enough said.

Oh, it was a little different at the end, after we had recovered. When my cock slipped out, she licked it again, and then I heard her lapping at the pussy with a chuckle, and then she murmured:

"Come and pussy - hm-hmm - really 'every which way'."

"Um-hmm," the other agreed.

We all chuckled and began to get sit up. We looked at each other with pleased smiles. I snickered, and the others did, almost in anticipation of what I was about to say:

"I want to kiss such good cock-sucking, cunt-licking mouths."

The girls started at my four-letter expressions, but then laughed, one glancing at Rick as the other offered me her mouth for a good kiss while the others kissed. Was it the taste of mine or Rick's come? It didn't matter, since we then kissed the other girl, but by then there wasn't much to taste.

We all chuckled again, and then began to get dressed. As Rick and I found our wash gear, Pat asked:

"I wonder what Jean and Mary having been doing."

"Wondering about us ... for sure. Mary asked the same question about you," I replied.

"I can imagine," she replied with a snort. Rick added:

"Jean said they'd find out if you wanted to tell."

"Hmm?"

"She told me - more or less - that that is what she meant with 'help each other'," I added.

"Hmm! And Mary?"

"Seemed curious. ... Oh, she had heard about the Dutch girls, and, ... well curious about anything, kind of proud that she had done it to Rick. She asked him this morning if she had done it right."

The girls laughed, glancing at him. He nodded with a grin, adding:

"After she had told how she knew about what to expect."

They laughed again, and Trish remarked:

"Maybe it's good that she has such understanding tentmates."

"Enjoy yourselves," I commented.

We all chuckled and then set off, the girls back to their tent, Rick and I to the washhouse.

We all met on the ferry again, of course. Like with Geerta and Marga that morning at breakfast in the hotel, we put on a show of just meeting, containing our chuckles. Mary even contained herself, except for her bright eyes and those couldn't-be-overseen breasts, that we could now envision just too well. They told us that they were going to Murano to a glassmaker in the afternoon, which sounded like a good idea for us, too, so we found out when they would be going, just after lunch. After that, their group had free time with no arrangements for dinner. When Jean mentioned that, we all snorted with smiles, tacitly confirming our agreement to spend the afternoon and evening together. She seemed to be the one who kept track of their itinerary.

We found out where to catch a boat to Murano and then spent the morning sightseeing. We had lunch and then caught the boat, an earlier one than their group came with. Since it was a free demonstration of glassblowing, we could join their group, which was interesting. Then, of course, we had to go through the salesroom. After that, the group broke up, most of them going back to Venice; some wanted to go to the beach on the Lido. We wandered around Murano, saw a church with paintings by the famous artists, Tintoretto, Bellini. While I was wandering around alone with Pat, I asked if she had told them. She shook her head with a smirk and replied:

"They didn't ask, just smirked, probably because it was obvious that we must have been doing something, since Trish and I didn't return to our tent as soon as we could have."

I snorted with a nod, and she glanced around to see that we were still alone, then looked up at one of the large paintings as though she were interested in it and snorted:

"They were still lying around naked - warm enough in the tent - ... hm-hmm! ... and smelled like ... , well, you know."

We both snickered, and she glanced around again as we moved on to another painting, whispering:

"Rick was right about her knockers; I remembered those pictures after he mentioned that."

We chuckled, and I remarked:

"Yeah. Jean told her they were really lovely, and then said that you all were getting a complex about being just normal."

Pat chuckled with a grin, and I added:

"Her nipples are more beige."

"Jean's, I know; Mary's are nice and rosy, just right for a painting."

We chuckled again, not missed by Mary as the others joined us, who asked:

"Didn't sound like you were talking about religious paintings."

"We weren't," Pat agreed with a snort: ... at least, not about religious ones."

"I was telling her about our art appreciation discussion this morning."

The others chuckled, and Jean remarked:

"Maybe we should get out of here before I have to go to confession; I'm supposed to be Catholic."

Chuckling again, we did.

I don't know about the others, but Jean's remark suggested to me that we think about doing things one would have to confess, at least, it was an indirect reference to such. Whatever they had thought, no one suggest we look at anything else on the island, and we walked back to the ferry pier, hurrying when we saw one approaching.

On the boat, Jean told us that they were going to leave very early the next morning. That also seemed to be a suggestion: time allocation until then; that it would probably be best if Rick and I didn't stay till dawn - didn't seem to be any question that we would not spend the evening together - and if we did that, that maybe we shouldn't wait till dark to "start the evening." I suggest that we have something to eat "before we go back," which I thought was a clever way of implying that then the "evening" could start. Again, I don't know if the others had the same idea, but everyone agreed, and Rick said that we would treat them.

"All of us? Really? That would be nice, thank you," Mary responded.

"Really? You want to? For all of us? We can share." Jean replied.

She was right, Venice was expensive, but I nodded to Rick and then snorted and explained:

"All of you; we've been saving on our budget for rubbers."

The girls and Rick snorted and chuckled with smiles, and I liked my even less indirect reference to the "evening." Trish snorted again and said:

"Really, that much? You said the Dutch girls needed them."

"They had their own, we shared," Rick replied, and everyone chuckled again.

That seemed to settle that we all knew what was going to happen, if there had been any question, but we probably all knew that leading up to the obvious can go faster with a prologue: not waiting till the bottle was empty, till it got dark to start playing around.

We decided which stop to get off, the one closest to where we could catch the boat to the campsite, and did, finding a restaurant. We just had one course and a glass of beer - expensive enough - but the company was good, and the conversation spiced with innuendos. It was only late afternoon when we arrived back at the campsite. Mary's suggestion that she had to go to the bathroom was agreed to by all. On the way, Pat's comment that Mary hadn't trained on beer like all Aussie girls had, was received with chuckles, but that only suggested that we all knew we wanted to get that out of the way.

Back at their tent, chuckling again - each of us probably a little uncertain how we were going to proceed - Jean opened the tent and we all took off our shoes and stepped in. Someone, probably Jean, suggested that we shouldn't leave them all outside the tent, giving rise to snickers - not just chuckles - as we recognized her reasoning. Two pairs were left outside, then Jean closed the screen curtains.

It was very warm in the tent from being closed all day in the sun.

"Geez, it's warm in here," Mary remarked and pulled her shirt out of her pants.

"Um-hmm," we all agreed, doing the same as we stood around.

"Too warm to wear much," Pat added, and glanced around for confirmation as she started to open her pants. We all had on long pants, following the guidebook instructions for visiting churches. There were snorts of appreciation for her not too subtle suggestion that we take off our clothes as we started to remove our pants. When we all had, still standing around looking at each other. Rick's and my shirts covered our underpants, as did Jean's, but the others' didn't.

"Shirts too?" Mary asked, obviously thinking about taking off more, as though we all weren't, but her question was a nice catalyser.

"If you're that warm," Jean replied with a chuckle. Apparently, we all were, unbuttoning them or pulling them over our heads. Again we looked at each other with snorts, snorting again, waiting for the next, penultimate catalyser. Rick snorted again and with a grin remarked:

"Glad I don't have to wear a bra, must be uncomfortable."

The girls almost laughed out loud and accepted his invitation, reaching back to unhook them. Mary grinned and asked:

"Want to see them again?" We did, and got to see them, and the others', all of us looking with chuckles.

"Mary's give me a complex," Pat remarked with a smirk and covered her breasts.

"They told you that?" Mary asked, sounding upset, but grinned and shook her shoulders.

They hardly moved, but we all smiled with another snort. Then Jean snorted and said:

"Jockey shorts must be just as uncomfortable."

The girls snickered, and I replied:

"Oh, they are," and Rick and I began to take them off as I thought to add:

"... especially sometimes."

"Hm-hmm! Um-hmm!" the girls agreed when our not so flaccid cocks appeared, and then they took off their underpants. Trish and Jean unconsciously fluffed up their pubic hair, more than Pat's. Mary's was the least, also an artist's ideal there, too.