When I was a girl, we used to go rowing on the river on summer Saturdays. There were three rivers near us which could go on. The Tamar, the Lynher and the Tavy, and they all joined up into one river just above the dockyard. Which one we chose on any particular Saturday depended on when the tide would be high for that day. High tide was when the river was full of water, and low tide was when the water level in the river was so low that it had uncovered huge areas of wet and very gloopy mud. In between those times, the flow of water in the river would be either upriver or downriver, often at a rate very hard to row against if you wanted to make any headway in the wrong direction.

The way to make it work for us was to launch the boat from the car trailer at one of a number of free and almost deserted ad-hoc slipways, then row up or down the river with the tidal flow, and when the tide turned and the flow reversed itself we could easily return to where we had launched from. Like walking upstairs on an 'Up' escalator, then walking down again on the 'Down' escalator, except river water instead of moving metal steps.

The boat was a fourteen-foot wooden rowing boat with a seat each for two oarspersons, another seat at the stern for the helmsperson and a few other seats for other people, all of whom would get their turn rowing or steering soon enough. Plus some extra space for the comprehensively-packed picnic hamper and hot drinks baskets, spare clothing for when it rained and towels and swimming stuff for when it was too hot not to have a dip in the river over the side of the boat or from anywhere along either bank.

My father didn't think that girls should get away with an easy life so I was taught how to row with two oars and how to steer, just the same as my two older brothers learned when they were young. And like Mum and Dad did too when they were young, back in the mists of time. My arm and back muscles grew rapidly when I started to row and soon I was as good as anyone else. Not only that, but when each of us was thirteen, Dad taught us how to reverse the car and boat trailer safely, how to launch the boat by reversing the car down to the water's edge then unhitching the trailer and launching the boat. And how to recover it at the end of the day and strap it safely to its trailer.

Sometimes we knew we'd get back to the launch site when the tide was too low. The car could not reverse across thirty yards of mud, of course, so getting the boat back onto the car trailer involved one end of a rope being attached to the trailer which was pushed into the water and the other end of the rope to the car on dry land, plus much heaving, lifting and shoving.

Technically illegal but nonetheless a good skill to acquire, a thirteen-year-old girl safely reversing a car and trailer with a boat on it on slippery shingle? A dark art indeed!

Occasionally there wasn't enough water in the river for the trailer to submerge fully enough to easily get the boat onto the trailer so we'd have to almost lift the boat onto the trailer while the trailer was not quite submerged, our bare feet squelching around in mud and water up to our waists. But this was all part of the fun. And it was fun.

The rivers themselves would be too narrow and tidal for bigger boats to use, so there were no white plastic gin-palaces with twin outboard engines and snooty people showing off. Every so often a small sailing dinghy with one or two people on board would fly - or slowly work its way against the wind - up or down river, or a couple of kayakers would whizz up or down river. Once in earshot of each other, we would shout 'morning!' or 'afternoon!' to each other, never mind if we knew them or not, before they sailed away.

And occasionally, we would be passed by a passenger river cruiser with a name like 'River Maid' or 'Tamar Princess'. We would wave at the poor tourists who had paid a tenner each just to go up and down the river in a boat where the advertised bar was never open. They would wave back, wondering why we were having fun and they weren't.

The rivers themselves were about one or two hundred yards wide, with woods or farmland coming down to each bank, continuing upstream like this for many miles. Almost the entire length of both banks would be considered a beach, although only shingle at the high water mark becoming muddier and muddier the lower the tide was. You could land almost anywhere, tie the boat to a tree or anchor it in shallow water, and walk along the shore in either direction. There were no built-up areas except at the bottom end of the rivers near the Saltash bridge and very few other people on land or water. Think Ratty and Mole from the Wind In The Willows.

As we got older, Mum and Dad did less and less rowing, then as they got older they'd not come in the boat at all, they'd drive to the designated picnic site at the designated time. By this time they felt we were safe enough as teenagers to enjoy the whole day by ourselves. At length, my brothers got married and moved away, regretfully enjoying their last day on the river.

However, by that time, I'd made my own friends and initiated them in the arts of rowing and steering the boat. They loved it. When I was old enough to drive (legally, ahem), Mum and Dad let me hitch up the boat trailer and drive from home to the launch site, whichever one was best that day, with two or three of my friends and we'd have our day on the river just like the old times of my childhood.

One day sticks in my mind particularly. It must have been the hottest day that summer, and my three besties were all free that day and the tide was perfect - high at two o'clock in the afternoon so just right for putting the boat in at Weir Quay and drifting lazily up the Tamar. It must have been the last time we ever went out on the river together.

Lauren, Ella and Jess had been out many times before and we all knew the drill. We launched the boat, remembering to transfer the picnic hampers and drinks baskets and other vital equipment, and parked the car and trailer.

To begin with, Lauren and Ella were the two oarspersons and I steered. 'Bow' and 'Stroke', with 'bow' nearest the front of the boat with one pair of oars, facing backwards looking at stroke's back, and 'stroke' also facing backwards with the other pair of oars, sitting in the middle of the boat looking at the helmsperson who was holding the tiller. We wanted to get around the next couple of bends in the river quite quickly, so Lauren and Ella set to work and we were soon flying through the water and, more to the point, watching the river banks each side pass us even faster than they were rowing because the river water was flowing in our direction, too.

They eased back a little after half an hour. The river was much more secluded from here on, and it was getting hot in the morning sunshine. We swapped around. Jess and I rowed and Ella steered while Lauren lay in the bottom of the boat on a groundsheet and soaked up the sunshine. We swapped again every so often, each of us getting hotter and hotter, taking off more of our clothes each time, and rowing slower and slower now that we were far upriver out of sight of nearly everybody. As more skin was uncovered, it would be plastered in sun tan lotion.

Soon, we were all in bra and knickers only, our outer clothes having been shed piece by piece and left in a heap on a spare seat. The rowing that Lauren and I were doing now was very little, just enough to keep the boat facing the right direction while the incoming tide took us up river. Even so, I was hot. I pulled the oars across in front of me.

“I'm sorry, ladies,” I gasped. “I'm going to need to take my bra off. Anyone mind?”

We all looked at each other, fearful of being the first one to go full lezzo and earn teases and laughter from the others. We looked at each other, seeing who would be the first to say 'OK'. I was beginning to sweat under my arms. No one said yes, no one said no.

“I'll take that as a 'no'!” I decided out loud, and slipped my bra off and tossed it into the bottom of the boat.

My breasts heaved a metaphorical sigh of relief at no longer being covered by a hot and slightly sweaty pad of material. What little breeze there was blowing up the river danced around each breast as they popped out of their cups and I began to enjoy the cooling feeling. The others turned to look at me. I was 'bow', so Ella and Jess could see my front from their seat, with only Lauren having to turn around to get a look.

Her face was only a couple of feet away from my size E's.

“Whoa, Nat, what's that you've got there?” she asked.

“Well, we all know what size we all are,” I replied, not very grammatically. “What did you expect?”

Ella and Jess took a closer look now that someone else had made the first comment about the size of my boobs and they didn't have to worry that they were the first to look, as Lauren had sorted that little issue for them. And it was true, we all knew each other well enough to know not only our cup sizes but our band sizes, waist and hip measurements. Probably our hat sizes, blood groups and shoe sizes as well, but by now we were all in bare feet so that question didn't arise. When we were young teenagers our body and boob size figures had been endless topics of conversation. The conversations were theoretical in nature, the one thing we had never done was to gratuitously strip and flaunt our tits or, um, anywhere else either.

Usually, when you're in a boat on water, whether a river or the open sea, you need to keep some clothes on because it's never as warm on the water as it looks in the photographs. Ask anyone who has modelled bikinis on a boat. And also, you can get sunburned from the wind and freeze at the same time.

So this was the first time ever that any of us had actually seen anyone else's boobs. And it was the first time they'd seen mine, and the first time I had let them. Outwardly nonchalant, but with my heart beating inside me, I reached for my sun tan cream and applied a good dollop to my breasts and rubbed it all around each one. Underneath, each side and on top too. I sat there attending to myself while the three girls continued to check me out, watching each hand movement and each smear of lotion being smoothed onto each boob. The boat began to rotate sideways and I could sense that 'stroke' Lauren was too busy staring at my boobs to worry about whether we would be wrecked on the Inchcape Rock or not so I dipped my oars in the water and pointed us upstream again.

“What?” I said, in a tone of complete and girlish innocence.

Having had a large bust since my mid-teens I had grown totally accustomed to the two protrusions sticking out of my chest. They were constantly at the bottom of my point of view in whichever direction I looked. Them being attached to me all day every day including Christmas and New Year had soon made me ignore them totally except when someone or something drew attention to them. Now, however, it was different. I'd exposed myself in public in full view of three of my closest friends who were staring at them from only a couple of feet away.

My arms kept slowly dipping my oars into the water and lazily keeping the boat straight, while the tide took us further upstream. I looked down at my chest, my boobs moving gently in response to the movement of my arms and glistening with sun tan lotion.

“Well, I'm hot, too,” Lauren acknowledged, pulling her cups away from her chest and fanning them with her other hand. “Anyone else mind if ...?”

Before she'd finished her question there were two bras being hastily unstrapped and tossed into the pile on the seat. In a sudden moment of panic that we might be being letched over by hordes of voyeurs with telescopes and Go-Pros, we all looked around us and up and down the river. There was a sailing dinghy about a mile downstream but no other living being in sight, on water or land. Our heart rates settled back to normal out of 'panic and hysteria' mode. We looked at each other, our gaze slowly dropping from faces to busts. Even I forgot to row for a few moments and the boat slowly rotated a few times in a random eddy.

The one still wearing her bra was Ella, who looked as hot and sweaty as the rest of us. We looked at her enquiringly. Without saying anything she indicated her chest. She wore a bra with small cups set further apart than most.

“I'm embarrassed about having tiny tits,” she explained.

“Well, we're not, so off with it and we won't be unkind - we're your friends!”

She sighed and reluctantly allowed her bra to join the others on the pile. She seemed to take ages to remove her hands and forearms from shielding her bust.

This was the moment, then, when all those conversations we'd had sitting on the floor of our various bedrooms, usually mine, while pretending to do homework suddenly began to mean something. I had always been the big-breasted girl in our group, and in our school, too, but we won't go there. Lauren and Jess were normal, sometimes wishing for bigger breasts to try to please the current crush and sometimes glad not to have ones that fell out everywhere or bounced up and down when we walked, ran or went upstairs at the wrong speed, like mine. When I was doing sports at school like netball, hockey and running, my bra budget was massive, each bra seeming to need reinforced titanium steel cross girders in all of the three dimensions plus high tensile shock absorbers around the back.

Ella's boobs were the smallest and thinnest, something that we now realised had been a problem issue for Ella for all that time.

Jess had another issue to deal with at school, being a black girl with parents both black themselves. In our group, we very rarely thought about her colour, and about the only time the subject came up was when we went clothes shopping it was always Jess that went for the bright primary colours. Her bra now lying in the heap was bright yellow whereas ours were nude or some other pale pastel colour.

We all looked at each other's breasts. My golden globes, Lauren's beautiful boulders, Jess's black beauties and Ella's petite pearls. No one spoke for several minutes. No one moved, either. We simply stared at each other's breasts, all of them shining in the late morning sunshine. Not just our sizes were different, either. The breast shapes varied among the four of us, and the size, colour and direction of each areola and nipple were different, too. Our gazes had centred on mine to start with, but on cue, we transferred our gazes to Lauren, then Jess. Each person got the stare from the others. Curiously, no one - not even Ella - seemed 'too shy to show' or wanting to shield herself from scrutiny.

We all just held our chests available for the others to gawp at for as long as we wanted, although Ella seemed to be still the shyest person present. In all our conversations on my bedroom floor, she always had the least to say. I guess in her mind her breasts were the least normal or usual or desirable so she let most of us do the teenage bravado talk while she just nodded along with the flow, keeping her own small breasts out of the limelight.

“Well, here they are. My tiny titties,” she sighed. “I've been waiting for and dreading this moment. You're all so pretty, and I'm the one with pimples instead of breasts.”

We focussed more carefully on her pimples. She bravely bared her breasts as she sat on the back seat holding the boat's tiller. Each breast was roughly the size of half a tennis ball poking out about a couple of inches from her chest, and they sat wider apart across her chest than most breasts, even small ones. The areola, the darkened part of each breast with the nipple in the middle, covered nearly one half of the surface of the breast. The nipples were normal-sized nipples but they looked big in comparison to the rest of her breast. Between her breasts was a flat but athletic chest.

The rest of Ella was fit and trim. She had always been the super sportswoman, good at everything from running to basketball, swimming and keeping goal in the hockey team. As for my sporting achievements, I would have been good at darts, snooker or tiddly-winks if I had bothered.

“When I was at school, I always wanted to have a body like yours so I could actually win something sometime,” I said.

Lauren and Jess agreed. Ella pouted.

“Well, it's available for hire at a low rent,” she replied. “Queue here!”

She seemed to come to a decision. She dropped the sad face for a happy one and looked around. The boat was still being carried upstream by the slackening tide, but it was facing the wrong way.

“Come on, row then!” she laughed, yanking on the tiller meaningfully.

Helmspersons can get like that, sometimes. Very pushy. Lots of shouty orders. We ignored her anyway.

There was a pause while the others applied sun tan lotion to themselves in the newly exposed areas. Anyway, it was time for another crew change, so Lauren set her oars so that she could move to a spare seat to one side. I then moved to her seat, and Ella clambered past me towards the front of the boat where she became 'bow'. I sat in her place at the tiller becoming helmsperson, and Jess moved into the 'stroke' position.

And while each of us was moving, the others stared at the dangling breasts displayed by the person doing the moving. In a small boat, one of the tricks is that only one person moves at one time, and another trick is that you should only move around when you are bending low so you don't stand up and fall overboard. This gave the rest of us ample opportunity to focus on the one item of interest at any moment. And that was each person's newly exposed boobs, and how they swung around while the owner of them was manoeuvering herself past us in a crouching position.

While Ella was clambering past me with her little breasts clinging to her chest like limpets to a rock, they passed within inches of my face. It was all I could do not to put my hand out and touch them as she passed me. Rule number three in a small boat is that no one shall unexpectedly squeeze another woman's breasts while she is moving from one seat to another in case she jumps in surprise and falls into the river. Actually, I just made that rule up, but it's true anyway.

We settled ourselves into our new positions, and the two oarspersons slid their oars into the water and re-orientated the boat upriver once more. None of us were looking around, our eyes were firmly fixed on items of interest inboard. And there was plenty to look at.

“Morning ladies!”

The voice came out of the blue at the same moment as the sailing dinghy did, the one I'd seen earlier a long way away. Along with the sound of the voice calling out his greeting across a few feet of water, there was the sudden rush of fast-moving bow-wave and stern-wake noises. We all jumped out of our skins and found ourselves looking at a sailing dinghy crewed by two young men dressed in warm waterproof clothing with buoyancy aids built in, as it rushed towards us, its large white sails looming up to us like the iceberg meeting the Titanic. One of them called out some order or command and suddenly their sails flapped a couple of times, swung across their boat and they had changed course and were rapidly sailing away from us, both of the men looking back at us, laughing and waving.

For a second there was pandemonium on board our boat. Hands flew up across busts, other hands scrabbled desperately for our clothes, or anybody's clothes, oar blades splashed into the water and the boat rocked. However, of course, it was far too late. The damage had been done and our naked chests were probably going to be uploaded to YouTube from the dinghy's SailCam, if it had one and if that was a thing anyway.

When we'd recovered from our surprise, happily no one wanted to dress in their clothes again, or turn around and go home. We simply muttered 'oh crap!' to ourselves and continued to sit in the sunshine getting a tan on our untanned areas, with Ella revelling in her new-found confidence. 'Bow' and 'stroke' rowed a couple of strokes so the helmsperson could point the boat upstream again and the bras we'd grabbed were returned to the pile without a word.

I was still hot. This time the only thing I could do about it was to take off my knickers. I wondered how to achieve this.

“I'm still hot,” I announced. “I ...”

Before I could finish the sentence, Lauren spoke.

“Well, take 'em off then!”

No one else chipped in, they just looked at me smiling expectantly, so I did. I slid my knickers down my legs while my knees were as together as they could be. They joined the pile of bras. I kept my legs together religiously for the next thirty seconds in case someone in this boat or any other boat that happened to be passing should see me, not just bra-less but knicker-less with my legs wide apart as well. However, by the end of thirty seconds, there were four of us with no bra and no knickers on either. Again the focus of our gaze shifted downwards to one person at a time. More suntan lotion was applied to more nether regions.

You could run a survey of a certain group of people, say, naked young women on a rowing boat in a river on the Devon and Cornwall border. You could compare and contrast their breasts and nipples. And for a bonus point, you could also compare their pussy hair-trimming styles and labia types. Again, no one turned a hair (to coin a phrase). Each of us simply widen our legs sufficiently to allow the others to get a good close-up view of everything there was to see.

We were all different, upstairs as well as downstairs. Biggest to smallest boobs were: me, Lauren, Jess then Ella. Hairiest pussies in order of hairiness were: Lauren, and Ella, with me and Jess scoring zero on the scale, although to be fair, Lauren and Ella had trimmed themselves very neatly leaving only a thin line or trace of hair just above their labia. Smoothest lips were: Lauren, Ella, me with Jess coming last. My lips were a little bit wrinkly for my age, more wrinkly than most twenty-three-year-olds.

And, no, it's not from overuse or too many large-diameter vibrators, thank you.

Jess's lips were quite smooth - smoother than mine, but she had a small piece of something which hung down between her lips as if something had got stuck there some time ago and it had stayed there.

We stared at her lips longer than we stared at everybody else's. Knowing what we were looking at, she widened her legs further still and flicked the hanging bit with her finger.

“Does that get in the way, Jess?” I asked. “It looks like it might get caught in things.”

“I'm a bit careful when I shave down there.”

She pointedly didn't explain what happened each time her boyfriend shoved his cock up there. And we didn't ask, although we all knew each other's boyfriends, past and present.

“Aren't we all?” I agreed.

This made everyone look at mine again. Lips that had receded, widened wrinkled and separated a little. I spread it around with my finger.

I suddenly realised that one of us, being me, should be keeping an eye out for the return of the sailing dinghy with the two men on it. I dragged my eyes up and away from inside the boat and looked around.

“Guys ...” I called out, pointing outside the boat.

There, quietly approaching us and chatting to each other were two women in kayaks, wearing the usual helmets and safety gear. They came up closer to us and stopped paddling. Their kayaks sat in the water only a few feet from us. There were no more shrieks from us, we very quickly picked up on their genders. We all covered our naked busts with our hands in time-honoured style, but quickly removed them again and looked at the women.

“Morning,” I said.

“Morning,” they replied.

“We rather envy you not having to wear all this stuff on a nice day like today!”, said one, picking at her helmet and flotation stuff.

“You can try it, too!” Jess suggested.

“Yes, we might do later.”

“Watch out for the two men in the sailing dinghy, though. They copped an eyeful earlier while we weren't paying attention,” Jess advised them.

As one, we all scanned the river for the dinghy. I could see it a mile upstream from us so I pointed to it.

“We will, thanks.”

They paddled away.

I was still hot and I had nothing left to take off. The thing about having big boobs is that they work as a major store and source of heat on a hot summer's day, although it never quite works the same way in winter. There was only one way left to cool off. I swung my legs over the side whilst still sitting on the bench.

“Hold tight!” I called.

I slipped into the water and the rowing boat rocked a little, but nobody else fell in. The water was warm enough but not very warm, if that makes any sense. It was a little muddy. You could see down about four feet, but after that it got a little murky. Good clean dirt, my father used to say. I wasn't going to drink any, though. I heard another splash and saw Lauren bob back up to the surface, she was going to have to wash her hair tonight. Two more splashes and Jess and Ella were in, too, the boat rocking again.

Nobody wanted to swim very far so we splashed around the boat and each other, cooling our naked selves off nicely. Now, no one minded that we didn't have a stitch on, even though all our bits were exposed as we swam around, eyed each other up scandalously or just floated lazily in the water. While we were all swimming I pushed the boat ten yards nearer to the shore. Ella was first back in the boat, and it was easy to get in because the water was now only three or four foot deep. I just lazed there in the shallower water while the others climbed in and dried themselves off and reapplied the suntan lotion.

I floated up to the side of the boat and bobbed around while holding onto the boat with my arms folded on the top of the boat's side, like the mermaid in Pirates Of The Caribbean. I showed my tits just a little like she had done in the film.

“Come all you pretty, um, la la la,” I sang, forgetting half of the music and three-quarters of the words while the others sat in the boat looking at me.

My heart is pierced by la la, dum dee dum all glittering gold,

There is nothing can console me but my jolly sailor bold.”

“Very good, very good,” they laughed. “Except it was the man that sang the song.”

“No it wasn't, it was the mermaid!”

We bickered about that for half an hour or so. We had pulled the boat up onto the beach a couple of feet so we could open the picnic baskets and start on lunch without worrying about the boat drifting away, being surprised by other boaters or being attacked by mermaids. The water level had stopped rising by now, so the boat was safe without being anchored.

The sun was hotter than ever so we were glad to stay in the shade on the beach, the four of us lying on an old boat groundsheet under the trees. It was quite comfortable once you'd wriggled a suitably shaped place for yourself. We continued arguing about mermaids and their songs, although between us we had managed to remember nearly all the words. The conversation drifted onto swimming while naked, being on dry land while naked and being with a group of your female friends in a secluded place on dry land while naked.

And of course, we all wanted another look at everybody else's bodies. At first, it was just looking, and talking about our childhood hang-ups and feelings. I admit it, I was first to touch someone else. It was Jess, I wanted to touch her skin, especially where her colour softened to a lighter black such as the palms of her hands and the soles of her feet. She let me, then all of us, simply touch her skin anywhere we chose. Her hands and feet first, then it just widened into anywhere we liked. She began this by taking our hands and placing them on her breasts and between her legs. Very soon there were three naked women caressing a fourth woman all over her body. Dangling breasts - ours and hers - were everywhere as Jess spent a few minutes lying on her back, then lying on her front, then on all fours and then standing up while we were enjoying her body in all these positions.

When she was upright her breasts were a lovely rounded tear-drop shape with a cherry-sized nipple placed front dead centre on each boob. We each queued up to run our hands over her curves and nipples. I touched her skin and I touched my own skin. They felt exactly that same to my touch, but mine was white and hers was a gorgeous black. When she lay on her back with us crowded over her, her breasts seemed to sink back into her chest. When she was on all fours her breasts enlarged themselves by a factor of ten and proceeded to sway underneath her torso in a way that made me feel strange between my legs, not that it stopped me from looking and touching her there.

Jess's pussy had that odd-shaped flap of skin and lips between her very smooth and rounded lips. All our fingers had stroked it and pushed it. Each time this happened Jess would murmur under her breath. The first time was when I touched it and she made a quiet noise.

“You alright, Jess? Let me know if this is uncomfortable.”

“Yes, fine thanks. It's not uncomfortable, it's so sexy and I love it being touched.”

I touched it some more, trying to push it back into her vagina. More soft grunts from Jess. Somebody else's fingers touched her lips and the flap popped out again. Yet more soft grunts. I felt that the others were also feeling strange sensations between their legs, based on the conversation or lack of it that flowed around us while we were so engaged.

“Come on, Lauren. Your turn,” said Jess.

The two of them swapped places. Lauren's cup size was technically the same as Jess's but there the similarity ended. Jess's bust held itself together in an almost-cleavage without her bra whereas Lauren's breasts wanted to swing apart once released, not giving the cleavage effect that Jess had. On the other hand, Lauren's nipples and areola were more circular than Jess's. Not that it mattered, all four of us were enjoying Lauren as much as we had enjoyed Jess. Everybody's hands investigated the different shapes and curves that Lauren had, before our hands sank down her body to arrive between her legs which she obligingly widened for us. Lauren's little landing strip felt soft and fuzzy and pointed downwards to her pussy and clitoris. By now each of us was experiencing naughty desires and the general mood for restraint and being lady-like had passed if it had ever existed.

Lauren was on all fours. My finger gently rocked to and fro at the top end of her pussy while the others stroked her breasts and bottom. Lauren closed her eyes and went with it until she rocked a little more strongly and breathed rapidly for a few seconds.

“Thank you, ladies,” she muttered after a few ticks.

Suddenly everyone was looking at me. Jess, smiling all over her face, indicated the 'Kneeling Down To Be Felt Up All Over' area on the groundsheet where she and Lauren had been. I got down on my all-fours, feeling my huge tits swinging away from my chest and dangling underneath me like two misplaced cow udders.

My mum has a favourite saying: 'horses sweat, men perspire but ladies only glow'. Well, us ladies were glowing, and I mean glowing. It was shady under the trees right by the boat and there was a little breeze blowing now but even so it was still hot. And the heat which had worked up because of our current occupation was adding to it.

All the fingers and hands running over my body were themselves slightly 'glowy' which added to everyone's fire. Hands came down either side of my upper chest and cradled my breasts, taking the weight of them off my back (for which I was grateful), moving them from side to side as far as they could swing. Testing them, trying them, literally weighing them. Each swing or movement away from the downwardly vertical sent happy feelings all around my body. The hands had fingers and some of the fingers succeeded in tweaking my nipples at the same time as the related hands held my glowing globes.

Other hands found my bottom, my pussy, the shaven but a little bit damp mound and clitoris. Fingers eased their way between my lips further and further, my juices beginning to come to the boil quite quickly now. I moved my knees further apart on the groundsheet, partly to allow easier access to those willing fingers but mostly to find a new position to become gradually uncomfortable in.

Those fingers found their way in. I've no idea whose fingers they were or whose hands were where, either. I felt an electrical tension flow upwards from between my legs. It went up my spine and found my breasts and nipples. It continued upwards from there and found my brain. Suddenly my discomfort vanished. I felt nothing under my knees or hands as if I was floating in mid-air or in the river water like I had been earlier. Someone's finger slipped further inside me while another finger tickled my clitoris which was as hard as a rock and poking up proud from its place between my legs. In my aroused state I began to fly. The earth and ground fell away from me. My friends ceased to exist. The boat, river and trees vanished all for thirty glorious seconds. Or was it minutes?

I came in to land again and everybody magically reappeared. After I'd caught my breath I said it, too.

“Thank you, ladies.”

I stood up and we all looked at Ella. She settled down slowly onto all fours. Her pimples curved away from her front into the downward position and her trim bottom waited for what was going to happen next.

No sooner than someone's hand nursed Ella's pimple in their hand, something happened to her. A split second later, the hand the other side of her body nestled her other pimple. Together, the effect on her was electric. She moaned loudly and started rocking forward and back without moving her hands and knees. Somebody else's finger slid around her bottom and up towards her pussy. It was all over in a few seconds. Ella had the most mind-blowing orgasm she had ever experienced. She drew breath like she'd not breathed for a fortnight while we watched and stroked her skin. No one spoke for a minute or two.

“Is that what I've been missing?” she asked nobody in particular. “Is that what I've been afraid of not having? Just because I've got really small weird tits?”

“What do you mean, weird, Ella?” we asked.

She rolled over and lay on her back with her small breasts uppermost. They flopped sideways away from each other widening the already wide gap between them.

“I was always worried that my small boobs would put people off wanting me for their girlfriend.”

“But what about Tim? What does he think?”

Tim was Ella's boyfriend. The first one she's had (that she told us about) who stayed long enough to get past the 'your tits are too small' stage which, let's be honest about men, put off a few of them even before Ella had noticed them for the first time. Never mind your beautiful personality, looks and academic achievements, Dr. Ella - Bsc (Hons), PhD.

“He knows they are small but he's never seen me topless. We cuddle and stuff but he doesn't try anything serious like that.”

'That' being feeling her up or getting her to take her clothes off.

“I've never been naked with a boy, or with anybody until today.”

We each considered this in the light of our own experience.

“Well, I've never done this with girls, as you well know. Ollie and I have done pretty much everything. Everything normal, should I say,” Lauren admitted.

Again, we each considered this in the light of our own experience.

“I think I'm much the same with mine,” I said, trying to skip the fact that I'd had so many boyfriends that I'd even forgotten some of their names. I doubt they forgot me, though.

“What, all of them?” Lauren teased.

Oh well, I didn't get away with it, did I?

I turned and gave Lauren one of my stares. However, she just stared back while the others tried not to laugh.

We turned to look at Jess who had yet to share on this subject.

“What?” she asked, smiling wickedly.

We continued looking at her while she tried to figure out what to say.

“I've, um, had a few. And some boyfriends, as well.”

“Whoooooa!” we all laughed and flopped down onto the groundsheet on our backs looking up at the trees above us with the afternoon sunshine filtering down onto us and our exposed bodies.

No one spoke for a few minutes. We were all enjoying ourselves, and ruminating on what we had just learned about our best friends. And what they'd learned about us.

“So, Jess,” I probed. “You've really had some girlfriends?”

“Yes, I have. Only one, though. I'd already dumped Rich, and I missed you lot when I went to work in Bristol a couple of years ago, and found another black girl, woman, who lived next door to me for a while. We got talking when I was moving my stuff into the small flat they gave me. She helped me with a few things and one thing led to another.”

We waited to hear more of the story. Jess knew which bit of the story we were waiting for, too.

“We started by just kissing each other when she helped me move my stuff into the flat. During the next few days and weeks we met quite a lot outside our front doors, then one time she invited me in, we began talking and cuddling each other, making out. Then a few times later we got naked with each other.”

She stopped for a moment, clearly enjoying the reminiscence. She wasn't the only one. Subconsciously, all our hands had gravitated to our pussies and were just lying there touching them.

“She was the same age as me but had clearly had experience with other girls. I didn't know what she did for a living, but she was very good at teaching me how to make love to a woman as opposed to a boy. And you've heard of plus size? Well, she was plus plus sized, but good-looking with it. She wore clothes that made her look sexy, and she was. Very sexy.”

The other three of us lay there, imagining two flirtatious black women having sex with each other.

“Did you ever find out any more about her?” someone asked.

“Yes, she left after a few months. She was something to do with the City Council. Parks & Gardens, or was it Housing?”

“She didn't have another career after dark?”

“No, I checked.”

“What did she teach you?”

“Mostly about slowing down. With Rich, before I dumped him, I had to hurry to get aroused so there was some chance of me cumming before he did. If he came first, he would pull out, roll over and go to sleep. With Portia ...”

“Portia??”

“...with Portia she taught me to take all the time I wanted with her. It was fantastic!”

“Tell us more!”

“She had a small paintbrush like you use in a child's watercolour painting set. She got me to lie on my back with nothing on, then she'd just touch me lightly with the brush all around the tops of my legs and my breasts, just enough so I could feel it but not any more than that. It would be a while before it would take effect, but once it did she could just tantalise me all evening. She knew when to slow me down or speed me up so I was constantly almost having an orgasm but not quite. Then she'd bring me up a bit stronger and I'd have the most amazing orgasms. I learned to do it to her, too.”

We digested this.

“It takes a while to learn to slow down, though. Definitely a one-on-one thing over a few weeks.”

“Something for a long winter evening, I think.”

The sunshine was still shining through the trees quite brightly, so I got my suntan lotion from the boat and applied it to my front and shoulders.

“Let me do your back,” Jess offered.

I turned over and she smoothed the cream on my back, bottom and legs. I watched as the others fetched their own lotions from the boat and sat there looking at Jess with kitten eyes. She sighed and started on Lauren. I sat up and took Ella's lotion and squeezed some onto my hand. I applied it all round her chest and those little boobs which she wasn't so shy about anymore (at least with us). As I stroked the fluid into her skin, she looked down at them while I worked. Rubbing the lotion onto her breasts was doing nice things to me, too. In truth, they were small and far apart and shaped like half a tennis ball, but they were giving me a feeling that went down between my legs. To give Ella something to do, I squirted some gunk onto her hand which she then applied to my breasts and pussy (even though I'd just done them myself) while I played with hers.

Ella's hands on me had the same effect on me as me putting my hands on her. Delicious feelings sizzled around my body in the hot afternoon sunshine, and between my legs became definitely wetter and wetter. I lay back and took the sun tan lotion bottle out of her hands and led them down between my thighs. I let them do their thing until I came with a little orgasm. Ella watched me have it, then we swapped over and I did the same to her. I watched her fizz and felt her juices leaking out of her vagina. Lauren and Jess were attending to each other in the same sort of way, lying next to us on the groundsheet.

We swapped partners several times, each one in the pair enjoying themselves at the hand of the other. Jess, Ella, Lauren and I became well acquainted with each other's bodies, learning how to satisfy them multiple times.

The sun had started to sink in the late afternoon sky, and while we'd been busy the boat had been left high and dry on the mud. Well, high and muddy. We put everything back into the boat and the four of us slid it backwards along the mud into the water again while the mud, small stones and the river water squeezed and squirted up between our toes as we lifted and pushed the boat. I was last in, giving it a final push back into the river while the others sorted themselves into helmsperson, stroke and picnic hamper reorganiser. The flow of water in the river was now strongly downstream, which was perfectly fine as that was the direction we wanted to go in.

Jess and I set off downstream at a fine pace, keeping it up for more than half an hour, all of us still naked. We swapped positions, and Lauren and Ella rowed for the same length of time at the same seaman-like rate, the two pairs of oars keeping in permanent synchronisation with each other, all shipshape and Bristol-fashion. The water always flows downstream on an ebb tide quicker than it flows upstream on a flood tide - something to do with the river water always wanting to flow downstream whatever the tide was doing. Watching the river flowing downstream while the water level was still rising always made me laugh.

We shared the last cups of tea and Mr Kipling French Fancies from the picnic hamper, and reluctantly screwed our cups back on top of the flasks. Soon the slipway came into sight as we rounded the last bend in the river above the Quay. Jess headed for the quay at just the right moment and the boat grounded at the bottom of the bit of slipway that was concrete not mud.

We suddenly realised we were all still naked. We looked at the quay, which was deserted and just beginning to sink into the shadow cast by the sun going down behind the hill the other side of the river. No one was there, and the only sign of life at all was our car and the boat trailer parked in the grass next to the narrow lane leading away from the river.

“What the heck,” we all said, almost in the same breath, looking at each other and shrugging our shoulders.

Slipping on only our shoes, the assembled company sprang into action, as we had done many times before. Oars were stowed and the rudder removed by one person, the trailer fetched by the other three and pushed into the water while someone pulled on the rope fixed to the front of the boat so it floated into position above the trailer.

Both boat and trailer were pulled out of the water just enough to fix the boat onto the trailer. I started the car and reversed it down to the front of the trailer which was a couple of feet out of the water, hitched them together and drove the trailer onto dry land. My bare bottom felt strange on the warm car seat, and my muddy fingers left smears of mud on the steering wheel. Boobs swung and dangled from the fronts of our chests while we were busy securing the boat to the trailer, and our pussies soaked up the last of the sunshine as we leaned down into the boat, stood up again and carried stuff from the boat to the car.

The boat was made ready for the road in no time, and us four ladies were still as naked as nature intended. And no one had seen us. When everything was done, we stood around next to the car without getting into it. I was reluctant to get dressed again and I could tell the others were, too. We rather liked wandering around in a public place (even if deserted) flaunting our bodies to each other, the birds and the bees. We ambled around the quay area, the grass growing on the flat bits down as far as the mud. We looked across the river at the bank opposite, which was just scrubby trees growing right down to the water, seemingly cut off by some sort of trimming machine at exactly the high water level. On our side of the river, there were a couple of small dinghies lying on the grass upside down near a wall at the far side of the quay area. These two things were the only other things to look at, apart from the scrubby trees and long weeds growing nearly everywhere. As one, we sauntered across to them and poked them with our toes.

I sat down on one of them, and the others joined me. I reached out and touched one of Ella's little boobs. She sighed happily and presented me with the other one. I played with them for a moment or two while Lauren and Jess played with each other. We spent another half an hour feeling each other up all over our bodies, and being felt up by others at the same time. We lay on the grass and let our breasts press against the person underneath us. Our pussies nestled into the other person's as well. Every few seconds we would rub them on the other person, and have another orgasm. By now, having started much earlier in the day, the orgasms were coming thick and fast for each of us.

But, at length, the sun sank even further and we began to feel cold. We got up, dusted ourselves down and trudged back to the car, found our clothes and started getting dressed. We'd got as far as our knickers and skirts or trousers when I gave in.

“Tell you what, ladies,” I announced, dropping my bra back onto the driver's seat. “I'm going home with no top on, because I like not having a top on.”

There was a murmur of agreement and the sound of bras and tee-shirts being stuffed back into backpacks. So we set off for our homes in the gathering gloom as free and unfettered as we could possibly be. We lived near each other, and as I stopped outside each person's house or flat, they kissed us all goodbye and vanished into their homes, their breasts bouncing slightly as they ran to their doors.

And when I got back to my parent's house, reversed the trailer into the boatshed, unhitched the boat and parked Dad's car, no one saw me or my breasts wobbling about as I did the last bit of the routine. I scooted across to the back door and slipped noiselessly up to my room and got dressed properly.

My fingers still wanted to play with my pussy, which they did, and after some solo handwork, I eventually satisfied myself for the last time.

The last time that day, anyway.