Big, proud. My nipples were very erect, and that seemed beautiful, too. Sexually excited women are pretty. Where had that thought come from? But it wa... true.I was distracted for a moment as the girl next to me put down her hairbrush and, after one last enraptured look into her own mirror, turned to me. "We have to go now," she said, smiling. "They're waiting for us." Who?" I asked."Our Masters. Hurry!" She rose and put out her hand to me. She stood naked, not at all self conscious."I can't!" I. Her mouth went wide open with total embarrassment but nothing came out. Finally she said, "I better be going." She left without saying another word.Sam turned back around and with her head down, she smiled at me. "I guess that was a bit too much, wasn't it?" Probably," I smiled, "But I think you got your point across."No one else said a word, but we did hear a few giggles. My brother, Mark, gave me a thumbs up. I was so proud of Sam but again she was always there to back me up.I danced with Sam. I asked her if they’d finished packing. She said, and I quote, “Not just finished packing, we are packing.” When she said that, she had that sneer that I thought you had patented for yourself. And then they both giggled. Women about to hit their thirties, giggling like schoolgirls. That’s not something you hear everyday – especially about something like putting clothes in a suitcase.”Her eyes widened slightly. “It sounds like a silly thing to say.”“That’s what I thought initially, but it struck. I was part of a small group who needed extra English lessons and as you read my story, you’ll see l didn’t pay much attention. I never took much notice, but the teacher Mrs Renauld’s would run her fingers through my hair as she passed me while l was sat at my desk and often tell me l had soft hair.One afternoon l was kept in to read to Mrs Renauld’s because l did not complete the homework she set and as l read she was twirling the hair at the back of my head, l paused what l was reading and.
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