Sean Fraser's Predicament

Sean Fraser's Predicament 6

By Ritchie Moore

(I'll forward it to the author)

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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Sean Fraser’s Predicament

Part 6

So there it was, Sean reflected, a decision he couldn’t argue with – no point! – And he only had a day to steel himself for another exposure. Well, the hell with things. He’d ignore his bloody sister and her gawking friends, and ignore the bloody cousins ... where were they, anyway? Ah yes, they were away at some show or other. Some stupid girly thing. But they’d be back looking for more amusement. So he, obviously, would make himself scarce. Out with the boys, and hope his fear of exposure as a nudist wouldn’t show. It was a constant problem with him now, and he could see no solution. Aw fuck, forget it for a bit. All too soon he’d be at the dining room table with the lot, naked as when he was born, fearful of sporting a hard-on, oh God! All too soon.

As it was he only realised the awful position he was in again as he looked at the hooks in the lobby and sighed, putting off his jersey and glancing about. Of course. There they were, the terrible trio, who’d heard him come in and hurried to witness the unveiling of his manhood. Again. Why the fuck were they not tired of it, as Alison seemed to be?

“Hey, Sean,” said Veronica, “nice to see you back. Nice to see your back, actually, once you’ve made yourself comfy.”

“And nice to see your front,” said Alexa, with a wide grin. “We’ve been talking about you,” she went on gaily. “Of course, you know that. And we’ve been exchanging ideas about you, what we like best about you.”

He dropped his trousers and stepped out of them, not looking at his tormentors.

“Yes,” said Kristina, “it’s a question of which side is more attractive, really. Your front side—“

“Or your backside!” they roared in mirth, just as his pants came down to show that delightful part of his anatomy. Sean shuddered and continued to hang his clothes up, knowing his face was blushing again, although God knew why he kept on blushing. Somehow he couldn’t get used to this constant, though periodic, revelation of his bare bum, his bare cock, not when they kept on laughing at him. They weren’t supposed to act like that.

“Why do you keep on mocking my humiliation, eh? Goddammit, why do you not let me be, take it in your stride, as dad said at the start? You know you’re supposed to accept it—”

“No, Sean,” said Veronica sweetly, shaking her head sadly. “That’s not the way of it at all. I grant you we were supposed to be mature girls, young adults really, who weren’t fazed by a naked boy. But be reasonable. We’re young girls, adolescent girls, confronted by a bare naked boy, showing all his charms, and we are taking advantage of it. We gratefully accept the thrills that are thrown our way, and I bet we’ll keep on like this till we leave.”

“Which is pretty soon, anyway,” said Alexa mournfully. “So you shouldn’t be so unkind as to deny us all the pleasure of admiring your ... penis, your scrotum, your pretty arse—”

They laughed at his expression. “Come through for a cup of coffee, your mum’s just perked it.
And we’ll talk about Sunday,” said Kristina.

“Oh God! I’d forgot—”

“Yes!” said Veronica with some enthusiasm. “Come and sit down – no, properly, your mum will tell you! Yes, like that. Let’s see your cock, even though it’s quiescent for now. So listen: We are going to the Rathbones’ place tomorrow, and we’ll have lunch there, we’re told. A couple of hours playing about, a cup of tea, and home again. That’s about it. Mrs Rathbone was telling us about the place, and the girls, and so forth. You haven’t met them, have you? No, so we’re there to make sure there’s a familiar face or two, you’re not surrounded by strange girls leering at you.”

“Though they will,” said Kristina with a smile, “oh yes, they will!”

Sean sucked in his breath. “Is that supposed to make me feel good? Let’s be honest, you’re going to be just as rude there as you are here, you’re going to encourage the girls to laugh, aren’t you? Oh God, you’ll maybe ....”

He stared at their merry faces and knew with sinking heart that somehow or other they’d make sure of his utter humiliation, in a new place with three new girls – three of them – and for fuck’s sake, where would this lead? He had an awful vision of a future array of strippings, of mocking talking about his parts, of even feeling – feeling? – no, don’t think about that. No, it wouldn’t come to that. Would it?

“Come along now, Sean, out of the Internet, for goodness’ sake. Wash up, it’ll be teatime shortly.”

“Yes, Mum,” he groaned, reminded again that he’d be the cynosure of all the young eyes. Even his mother, actually. She made no secret of the delight she took in admiring his naked body. And hadn’t his aunt also shown an interest? Though maybe there was something a bit erotic about the pleasure she took. Yes, that was it, and she was quite keen to allow her awful kids
to get their own jollies with his bare bum. And the rest. Oh what—

“There you are. A surprise,” said his mother brightly as he came out of the bathroom and prepared to go downstairs. “We’ve a guest.”

Oh Christ, not another one! He couldn’t take it, he couldn’t face it—

“It’s your friend Marjorie from school.”

Jesus Christ and all the saints!

He stepped down the stairs, quaking, and entered the dining room, to be greeted by Marjorie, a girl he’d lusted after himself, who’d managed to paw him into being erect, into ejaculating in front of her and the other girls. Twice! He was sure she treasured those moments and thought about it a lot of the time. And here she was, evidently at the invitation of his mother, to smile at him and focus her eyes on his pubis. The cousins jabbered away in a girly conversation, while he ate his meal in silence, conscious of the fact that Marjorie, seated by his side, had all too good a view of his penis, which she made no secret of glancing at every now and again. And again, and again. His parents made polite conversation with the guest, and evidently were getting on very nicely with her. His mother – oh Christ – made some remark about when she could come next. “We have to remember,” she said, “that Sean’s cousins will be leaving next week or so, and it’ll be good for him to have a companion.”

“Actually,” chimed in Alexa, “you could go on those hikes we were talking about. We were pleased to discover all those trails, in the woods and so forth. It’s a shame you haven’t used them, Sean. Summer’s the time to do it. No school, plenty time to get to know your own country! If we can do it, so can you!”

“How about it, Sean?” asked his father, narrowing his eyes, as if to imply a strong suggestion.

“Oh, certainly,” Sean said weakly. “Me and Marjorie, you mean—”

“Marjorie and I,” said his pedantic father irritably. “And yes, the two of you. In fact, when I think about it, it’s a better employment of your leisure than traipsing about with those louts of yours. You’re not going to spend so much time with them this summer, let me tell you. I suggest, in fact, that you make arrangements to have a hike or two before your cousins leave, all five or six of you, to get into the spirit of the exercise, and when they leave you can make it a regular thing, the two of you at least. All right?”

Sean sighed. He spent a lot of time sighing these days, and no wonder, for his carefree life had become strangely different, restricted, changed, with a fearful erotic element that threatened to overpower him.

“By the bye, Marjorie,” said Jo, “I did hope your friend could come to tea as well.”

What?

“Oh, Mrs Fraser, she was coming but there was some emergency at home. She did promise to come when she could. Is that all right?”

“Well,” said her host, “let’s hope she comes for the pudding, at least. My wife is quite proud of her prowess with Golden Pudding! And we’ve ice cream as well. That should—”

The ring at the door announced the late guest, and Sean cringed (he was getting good at cringing).

“Sean! On your feet! Answer the door!”

His father looked at him without compassion, and nodded in the direction of the hall.

Sean wearily arose and dragged his bare feet to the front door, took a deep breath, opened the door just a bit and peeked out. A pretty girl stood on the step, and returned his look with a smile.

“Hello! I’m Nicola Patrick. I’m a friend of Marjorie’s. I’ve come to tea. I’m not too late, am I?”

Sean swallowed and opened the door wide. “No,” he choked, “there’s pudding to come.”

“Ooh!” She finally took in his undress, and thanked her stars that her friend had said she could come. And speaking about pudding!! “Hi, Sean. I know you from school. I’ve seen you, I mean. And ... can I come in?”

He swallowed again and took her through to the dining room. In a cracked voice he announced her, and escaped to his chair as quickly as he could. The others made a fuss over her, and the meal went on quite normally for a few minutes, Nicola being invited to have what was left over of the entrée, and she, seated (of bloody course) on his other side, exchanged glances and smirks with Marjorie, and incidentally took in his own attributes, with a grin so huge she nearly split her face – oh hell, what is happening to me? Another girl, another lecherous leer, another—

“Sean! The plates.”

He squirmed, but there was no escaping it. He got up and gathered a few plates, and turned to go to the kitchen. and it happened.

“Ooh! He’s—”

Alexa stared and chuckled. Her sisters stared as well, and laughed out loud. Alison looked affronted somehow, and his parents and auntie looked at him with slight smiles. Worst of all, Marjorie and her goggle-eyed sidekick, on either side of him, looked over at his erection in satisfaction, Marjorie with an “I told you so” expression and Nicola surprise and admiration. Admiration? For God’s sake—

Sean, carrying a pile of plates, couldn’t cover himself, and he wasn’t supposed to anyway, so he pretended all was well and just left the room to go to the kitchen, hearing a sudden babble of talk behind him, including a laugh from Doreen, who was as usual rather uninhibited in her reactions. He hated to think what they were saying about him, and was surprised when the grownups brought the other stuff to the kitchen and paid him no attention at all. His mother produced the Golden Pudding and bore it to the table, and Doreen got the plates into the sink. His father did give him a glance that was absolutely non-committal, and busied himself with the coffee.

In a curious state of ashamed arousal, combined with a comatose sort of dreaminess, he went back to the table, to take his seat, but his companions took his hands and made him pause, while they quite openly feasted their eyes on his bobbing erection. Then the spell broke and he could sit down. But what would they do, or say?

Answer, nothing. Everyone carried on without a hint that anything out of the ordinary was going on. Even Doreen, ever ready with a knowing smile and eyes of innuendo, chattered away with the rest and paid him no attention. It was the same when he was told to take the pudding plates away. It was as if he was a ghost, or an invisible participant, for the others politely paid him no heed. For which, it must be allowed, he was grateful.

Over coffee they talked about the visit to the Rathbones’ swimming pool, and it was explained to the newcomers that Sean would, naturally, be nude. Nicola gave a little shriek of delight, and the others, damn them, smiled tolerantly.

“Yes,” said his father, “it’s good having him naked here, and next door with the Carstairs, but I’m pleased at the chance to allow Sean to be naked outside our area here, to get him into more public areas. I’m very pleased that Mr Rathbone was so accommodating. He understood exactly what I was trying to do.”

“And his daughters, you said...”

“Yes, Marjorie. They’re about the same age as you lot, the eldest is sixteen I think, and they’ll be another aspect of inuring Sean to his situation. They know all about him, and are quite prepared to be another audience for him, another group to which he becomes accustomed.”

“I bet they are,” said Doreen. “Prepared, I mean. But then they go to that private school, don’t they, you said? So they’re probably real little ladies. Very good.”

Very good! I bet you, they’re just as ready to poke fun at my gear as your fucking daughters, and they will definitely egg them on! I know, I can see, this is going to be the worst yet....

Then they were clearing the table and setting up for a game of Monopoly. Surprisingly, the seven children enjoyed themselves, with no untoward behaviour or remarks, Sean forgetting his state most of the time, and he lost his erection quite quickly. When the guests went home he was told to show them out, at which point their pent-up lechery came back and they pulled him onto the porch to put him against the balustrade and run their hands over him, Marjorie revisiting those nice territories, and Nicola giving little squeals of delight at being able (allowed) to fondle a naked boy, a boy oh God! who was absolutely nude, under her hands, to squeeze, to stroke, to rub and tickle. He didn’t want to make a fuss, knowing it’d be ignored anyway, so he stood their panting as they cooed obscenities in his ear and stroked his skin, his behind, thighs, belly, scrotum, perineum, oh God the penis, erect again, surely they wouldn’t –

But they did. When he returned to the room Alison eyed him and said “Why don’t you wash up?”

He nodded, and gave her an understanding look. She smiled and huddled with the cousins, no doubt passing on the tittle-tattle. Oh well....

He had no idea how long it took him to get to sleep that night. Visions of laughing girls, girls, girls, all pretty, all as young as he, all adolescent, all NAKED oh God, and he naked as well, the object of their interest, their desire, he was naked and erect in front of them, hordes of girls all ready to jeer at his prick. Yes, he undoubtedly fell asleep at some point, and undoubtedly came in an excited rush to consummate his fantasy, with a wet dream to end all wet dreams ....
Well, not quite to end. God knew there were a few yet to come. And not dreams either, not optimal fantasies, but real shuddering climaxes to a parade of nude shame. First, though, there was Sunday, and a visit to a pool, and an exhibition of himself and his so attractive cock. God help him.

He showered off his sweat, and the come as well, and stuffed the fouled sheet into the laundry.
After a quiet breakfast (the cousins seemed a bit subdued) he was allowed to amuse himself with his computer, until near eleven, when all were called to order and he was told to dress nicely. He didn’t see the necessity for niceness, for he’d be losing his protection pretty soon, but his mother frowned and told him he had to make a good impression. So they set off in the car, Dad driving, Mum in front, and he crammed in with the giggling girls in the back.

The Rathbones had a rather splendid house, as befitted the man’s important position at the mill, and the pool, at the back, seemed immense to Sean, though the girls told him it was quite average where they lived. Mr and Mrs Rathbone met them with graciousness, and they were invited to park themselves by the pool while the adults chatted. All too soon his parents upped and left, and Sean was bewildered. They weren’t going to stay to support him? Leaving him alone to face the gawking girls? Oh yes. They thanked the Rathbones and drove away, and that was that.

Mr Rathbone retired to his study, evidently, and it was his wife, a nondescript sort of woman in her mid-forties, left to clap her hands and bring an end to Sean’s peace of mind.

“Well, children, I’ll fetch the girls, they’ll be very glad to meet you. And Sean of course.” She nodded to herself. “Then you can get into your costumes. Yes.” She seemed to want to add something but decided against it, and disappeared into the house, to usher out three girls who looked at their guests with smiles of anticipation.

The Rathbone girls were introduced, and took to the cousins immediately. When it came to Sean, they hung back and seemed very shy, as indeed did he, and they didn’t know what to say to each other. But their mother clapped her hands and directed all six girls indoors to get changed. She looked a little doubtfully at the nervous boy and said he could sit on a chaise longue by the pool and she’d fetch him a lemonade. All right?

He stretched his legs and blew out his breath in a shaky melancholy sort of way, trying not to think too much about what was going to happen. When the lemonade arrived, Mrs Rathbone attempted some desultory conversation, but Sean was tongue-tied and the hostess (perhaps understandably) was unsure of what topic to pick. The boy was going to undress, and that made for a deal of restraint, to say the least. Then the girls returned, and Sean took the view like a physical blow. There were six girls in front of him, ranging in age from twelve to sixteen, all of them attractive in their own way, all dressed, if that was the word, in revealing swim suits, the cousins having two-piece outfits and the others more modest one-piecers, though they still tended to hug the curves of those delightful tender teenage bodies – God, he couldn’t start thinking like that! But it was already too late. As Mrs Rathbone turned to leave (to leave him to the mercies of those six gorgeous females, and not stay to ... supervise, to keep an eye on their eagerness) he felt the stirrings in his underpants, and knew he was not going to enjoy this much.

Dorcas started the ball rolling by giving them another welcome, for Sean’s sake mostly.

“I’m Dorcas,” she said proudly, “I’m sixteen last month. I’m in the fourth form at Matilda’s. My hobbies are bird-watching and history, especially lurid historical novels.” She chuckled lewdly. “Did you ever see Forever Amber?”

Sean stared at her incredulously. Before he could speak the second stood forward, tossing dark curls and somehow flexing that sinuous body. What was happening to his penis?

“I’m Claire,” she said, “I’m fourteen and a half, in the second form at Mat’s. I like horses and riding and football. I’m not an intellectual, I admit.”

Sean nodded, and turned to the youngest, the most attractive, he thought, of all of them.

“I’m Betty,” she said, “twelve years old, but looking at thirteen pretty soon. I’ll be in Mat’s next September, and it sounds like a real gas, from what these two tell me. I’m the reader of the family, but forget old trashy things like Forever Amber. There’s a lot more. Oh yes, a lot more.”

She laughed suddenly, throwing back her golden curls and showing perfect teeth.

“Well,” she added, “what about it? We’re to have a swim, aren ‘t we? So get yourself ready.”

All of them fixed him with stares that seemed to shout Get yourself naked, now! Sean gulped and put his hand to his jacket, and the others settled onto the chaises longues, their eyes bright and expectant. The poor boy had no idea how to go about it, and the idea of deliberately undressing in front of a bunch of horny (yes!) girls made him blush to his ears, even before he’d taken anything off. He fumbled with his jacket, he fumbled with his jersey, he fumbled with his shirt and vest. He had to sit down to take off his shoes and socks, all the while listening to murmurs of approval from his audience, which grew in intensity as he stood up to undo the catch at his waist and draw down the zipper.

He hurried through the last revealing as if to get it over with, but it wasn’t over, not by a long chalk, and he stood before them absolutely nude but for his two trembling hands.

The girls stood in a row and stared, burst out laughing and pointing with rude fingers at the red-faced teenager, who kept his hands on his privates for half a minute, then reluctantly but resignedly put them by his flinching sides and shut his eyes. The volume of reaction went up, and he felt a great devastation, that almost made him weep in mortification. Then he opened his eyes in horror as he felt their hands seizing him and propelling him to the pool. In he fell, and they clapped their hands as he floundered before them. What fun this was! He clutched the tiles at the side of the pool and looked up at them. He was going to be here for an hour, did they say? How could he stand it?

Then they plunged in too, and began a game of tag, with him the prime target, naturally. There were six of them and only one of him, so the opportunities for touching his body (oh, naked body!) were many, and were taken advantage of repeatedly. The girls thought they were in heaven. Here was this bare boy they were expected to play with – well, of course they touched him. Grabbed him, really, and enjoyed the feel of all that skin. After a while he drew himself out of the water, a sight for sore eyes, his sleek young body asking to be admired, and the girls took him all in.

Louise Rathbone appeared suddenly, to set out glasses and a large jug of lemonade on a table, and look with a mixture of startlement and lust at the naked guest. “I’ll be bringing out a salad for you,” she announced. “A simple luncheon of sorts on a bright day like this. We’ve got the heat wave they promised, haven’t we? You’ll have to put on some sunscreen. Won’t you?” She seemed to contemplate the idea with suppressed approval, and nodded and went in to fetch their plates. The girls as one ganged up on their victim to dry him off, and successfully achieved an erection, which the Rathbones greeted with squeals of delight. Sean’s blushes returned, full force, and he didn’t struggle as they laid him carefully on one of the chaises and stood back to admire him. Mrs Rathbone brought out a trolley laden with goodies, and stood for a while regarding the lithe form laid out before her, before sighing and saying she hoped they’d enjoy themselves. Sean, trembling on the cushioned seat, clenched his fists and muttered “Oh yes.”
As expected, the meal gave everyone an opportunity to gawk and make jolly remarks, and Sean was amazed at the forwardness of these young ladies. When they were replete, however, things went from bad to worse. Claire produced a big container of sun cream, and everyone cackled in glee. Who would go first?

It was Veronica who suggested that they apply the stuff first to themselves, that is, the girls would use the cream, letting Sean look at the process and arouse him further. No, said Kristina, let him put it on us! Ooh, giggled Betty, I think that’ll be even worse! Yes! Everyone agreed, and so it was that he spent many agonising minutes smoothing his hands over what was visible on their nubile bodies, his erection bobbing as he moved over their prone forms, enduring the most explicit talk from six nicely educated girls, and then—

“Now,” said Dorcas, “it’s your turn. Thank you for your attention. Now you have ours. I think the guests should start you off. And I bet we will finish it!”

Alexa seized the cream and approached him, her lubricated body shining in the hot sun.

“Right!” she said, “ready, Sean? Here it comes!”

(End of File)