Playing Doctors And NursesFor a long time I was fascinated with the look and feel of completely shaved/waxed *******. This predated the current Brazilian craze and for many years I thought I was the only one who loved the look of unadorned *****. I reckon this came from my early experiences playing ‘rudie doctors’ with the girl who lived next door.
Just after we started school we both had a visit from the school doctor – don’t know what they did to girls, but boys had to ***** completely naked in groups of 4 or 5 and wait to have their nuts fondled, checking for undescended testicles i suppose.
I was very shy and thought having to ***** in front of others and then have your goods held like a bunch of grapes was rude. Talking to Julie about it while walking home she was equally affronted, but in the logic of kids, we ended up agreeing to play our own ‘rudie doctor’ game and met in the bush at the back of our homes.
I did not do anything but pull down my shorts and undies and show her my ‘stiffie’. Julie squatted down, pulled up her dress and pulled her knickers to one side to give me my first look at her bald, prepubescent gash. I still remember the smell as she opened her legs for me – it was unusual to me at the time and probably added to the thoughts it was ‘dirty’. Now I know it is not because she had not washed, it was just the natural smell of a young, unlubricated fanny.
Over the next couple of years we played again and examined each other in a bit more detail. We never actually touched each other on the genitals, but patted each other’s buttocks a few times – don’t know why now, but at the time was very risqué. At one of these examinations she pulled her tiny labs apart and showed me her ****. We did not know what it was but she said as you get older it gets longer and eventually curls over – she knew this because she had either seen her 18 yr old sister or had been told by her.
I was a bit jealous of her at times as she could put a small stick or the stem of a reed an inch or two up her *****, but when she asked me to do the same with my ****, it hurt to go anything past a few millimetres. She would also put reeds and sticks up her ***, but did not ask me to do it.
When we were in third class she offered to kiss me on the ****, which I knocked back as I thought it was dirty. We sometimes watched each other have a wee and at that stage I could not get past the idea that my **** may have wee on it .
Shortly after that Julie said she had told her mother about Rudie Doctors and was told not to play it with me anymore. I was REALLY embarrassed as I had to walk past their place on the way home from school every day and her mother was usually in the front garden. I just imagined that she could see me with my stiffie walking naked down the street and know what I had been doing.
We did not talk much after that as I was too embarrassed. She was the first girl at school to grow breasts – about half way through 3rd class. Now I wonder if she did not tell her Mum, but wanted to stop playing doctor as she was starting to grow pubic hair.
It was shortly after we stopped playing that I found out how it all worked and I was sooo frustrated. I could have done anything with her, but now it was too late! My previous worries about cleanliness were forgotten as I now appreciated the unique attraction of her undeveloped femininity and all I wanted was to smell that aroma first hand yet again.
I wanted to lick her hairless groin all over her tiny vulva, hold her lips apart and finger her and watch as my small, hairless **** thrust in and out of her tiny hairless mick. The offer to kiss my **** was now readily imagined as knocking back a good suck job which was doubly frustrating. I continually played over the ‘could have been’ scenarios and ground my aching stiffie into the mattress every night for years.
In our teenage years I fantasised about replaying our earlier experiences, with some grown up additions. I would have even offered to only do her in the *** if she wanted to stay a virgin, but I was too shy to broach this generous offer to her.
We met again at a primary school reunion after we had not seen each other for more that 25 years. She seemed pleased to see me and agreed to meet me for coffee one lunchtime near her work. I was fascinated with the elegance of the situation where I might finally **** the girl I had my first sexual liaison with.
We had small talk for half an hour but, as I was about to raise our childhood interests, her phone rang and she had to leave. She changed jobs shortly after that and we lost contact again.
She left me with a legacy of fascination for smooth, hairless *******.