During the next week, school was winding down for all of us. Gina had checked the train schedules and, although it was going to be a long trip, we decided to go to Jones Beach the following Saturday.

Then Gina said, “You know, I’m tired of these pigtails. I’m getting a new hairdo this week.”

Jenny chimed in, “I’ll go with you. I don’t want to stuff this ponytail under a bathing cap.”

“This a great idea. We need to replace these girlish hairstyles with something more adult. After all, we’re sixteen; we’re women now, not girls.” Yet she still kept using terms like girls or chicks or even females to describe us. Ladies was my personal favorite.

When I met them on Wednesday afternoon, I barely recognized them. Gina’s dark hair now fell to her shoulders and she had a plastic hairband across the top of her head.

“It took them a bit of work to do this. They had to cut off part of my pigtails and unwind what was left.” She did look more mature and prettier too. Her new hairstyle seemed to soften the sharpness of her face.

Jenny’s straight brown hair was now in something I’d call a bob cut. On the sides, it came down to her chin, and she had bangs in the front. Yet she needed some reassurance.

“I’m not sure I look feminine enough now. I wonder if this is sort of, I can’t think of the right word.”

Gina offered, “Androgynous?”

I broke in, “Don’t say that! Jenny, you look great.” Then, “How long did you have that ponytail?”

“For years. It seems like I’ve always had it.” Then she broke into a big smile.

Gina said, “We’d all probably would look better with some make-up. We rarely use any at all.”

I thought about it. “At least people know what we really look like.”

*****

At Jones Beach, a shuttle bus from Freeport left us in front of the West Bathhouse.  Inside, there were sheds that contained lockers one could rent.  Once in there, Gina said, “I want to be surprised by your bathing suits when we get to the pool.”

I asked, “How are we going to do that if our lockers are in the same alcove?”

“I’ll get my suit on first, and you two stand outside. When I’m done, I’ll wave my arm and go out the other side.”

It seemed reasonable, so Jenny and I waited for about ten minutes for her to change. After her signal, we both went in and found our lockers.

Jenny said, “We’re going to see each other’s naked bodies when we do this.”

“You’ve been at Orchard Beach, it has the same set-up as this.”

“Yeah, but I never went there with friends.”

“So don’t look at me if it bothers you that much.”

In the end, I did look at her bare lanky body and she looked at my compact one. For a moment we were silent, then we both laughed.

I said, “You know what? I bet Gina is actually shy about showing herself here.”

“I can’t imagine her being shy about anything.”

When we emerged in the pool area, Gina was already there. First, I looked around at the place I had seen before. The center of the bathhouse building had a big rectangular space surrounding the two pools. There was a second-story deck around the entire area. It all had beautiful Art Deco architecture.

The first pool was huge, ranging from a depth of about three feet at the shallow end to around nine feet where the diving boards were. Beyond that, there was a smaller wading pool for kids and non-swimmers.

Jenny said, “Wow, this place is amazing, I just love it already.”

Gina replied, “We came here to look at bathing suits, not buildings.” 

She was wearing a one-piece black one that was tight enough to show off whatever curves she had. I had a fairly modest blue two-piece, and Jenny had a one-piece garment with a flowered design on it and a skirt around her waist.

I said to Gina, “I thought you might have a bikini.”

“Not me. I get enough male attention as it is.” Then she teased Jenny. “What is that, Grandma’s suit from 1940? What’s under that skirt?”

She lifted it up. “Just the rest of the suit, that’s all.”

We all had sandals to walk when we weren’t in the water. I had once gotten a splinter from the wooden boardwalk outside, and I knew how hot the sand could get from the sun shining on it. Our locker keys were looped around our ankles. Somehow they were designed to never fall off even in the roughest surf.

Gina was eager to use the diving boards. “Let’s get wet first and then we’ll go off those things.”

There were five boards, with the tallest one in the middle having a drop of at least ten feet. Of course, she wanted to try that one first.

I asked, “Do you even know how to dive off something like that?”

“No, I’m just going to jump.”

Jenny and I sat on a bench to watch her. She got in the line of waiting people and then climbed the ladder. There was another wait on the inner part of the board.

It seemed that everybody using that board was male, mostly young guys, except for our friend. When she reached the end, she wiggled her ass and turned to smile at those behind her. Then she held her nose and jumped off.

I commented, “Did you see what that shameless hussy did up there?”

Jenny said, “Sure, I bet a lot of the guys got boners watching her.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know what guys are like. The beach is a very sexy place.” Then she confided, “I’m sure some of them are going to jerk off tonight thinking about her.”

“She obviously knows that.”

“Of course she does.”

Gina jumped three more times, presumably giving her admirers something more to witness. Finally, I said to Jenny, “Let’s go ourselves, except I can only take the two-foot board.” That had the least drop height.

I knew how to dive, but Jenny just jumped. After a while at the boards, all three of us gathered on the bench.

Jenny said, “We saw what you were doing up there.”

She feigned innocence. “Doing what?” Then she asked me, “Have you ever gone off the high board?”

“No, I’d be afraid that the next person off would land on me.”

Gina scanned the area. “There sure are a lot of bikini babes around here.” She shook her head. “What a bunch of show-offs.” A little after that, we decided that it was time to head to the beach. A passageway led to the front of the building.

When we saw how bright the sun was, we decided to rent a beach umbrella. It was a huge thing and both Jenny and I had to carry it. Then we had to dig a hole for the base of it and open it, not an easy task. But it was our first time at a beach that year, and we had to guard against sunburn.

Gina was restless and wanted to get into the ocean already. We left our sandals on the shore, and then slowly got used to the water. In early June, it was still rather cold, colder than the pool had been.

The breakers weren’t too rough, and we played in those for a while. Then we went beyond them. We all knew how to swim, and the water was quite calm that far out.

Later in the afternoon, after we had returned the umbrella and had hot dogs for lunch, we went back to the pool. When we were done with that, we stood around at the side, thoroughly tired from our long day. Gina said, “We really are mermaids now.” Then she continued, “ ‘I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think they will sing to me.’ ”

That surprised me. “What is that? It sounds like part of a poem.”

She looked chagrined. “Well, yeah, it is.” Then she went into an explanation. “We read it in English class, and I think I was the only one who liked it.”

Both Jenny and I understood that she wanted to maintain her tough girl image and this literary side of her went against that. Jenny said, “You don’t have to hide how smart you are. Why don’t you tell us more about it?”

“Well, okay, if that’s what you want. I forgot the next couple of lines, but the last ones are, ‘When the wind blows the water white and black, We have lingered in the chambers of the sea, By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown, Till human voices wake us, and we drown.’ ”

I was impressed. “That’s pretty good. Who is this anyway?”

She still seemed reluctant. “If you must know, it’s T.S. Eliot.”

“And the name of it is?”

She looked down at her feet and said, “It’s called ‘The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.’ ”

It sounded familiar, but Jenny said, “I’ve never heard of it. What is it about?”

“God, do you really want to know more?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“All right, the narrator of this is a guy entering early middle age and he’s mostly griping about his life.”

I said, “You know Gina, you should read poems to us sometimes. It would be very . . .” I almost said romantic, but instead it came out as nice.

Gina replied, “Maybe I will. Okay, sea-girls, let’s go in and change.”

She had another surprise for us in there. After we had showered off the chlorine, we went to our lockers. Gina said, “Oh, you’re going to see me naked.”

I replied, “We’ve already seen your crotch.”

“But this is different, this is everything.”

“If you wish, change after us. Jenny and I have already seen each other this morning.” With that, I took off my top, bottom, and sandals, and I stepped naked onto the bench. I tried to dance up there as best I could.

Jenny followed, “That’s great; me too!” She peeled off her suit and got up there with me. Gina didn’t want to be left out, so she got her courage together. “I can do that; here goes.” She unzipped her suit and left it on the floor.

In a moment, all three of us were holding hands and prancing around nude on the bench. Then a woman in her forties came in to change. “Oh, I’m so sorry to interrupt. I’ll come back later.”

As she turned to leave, I called out, “No, no, it’s okay, really,” but she kept going. I put my hands up, “Well, that’s that, I suppose.” We got dressed and returned the keys to the front desk.

*****

We were sleepy on the train, but we talked as we sat in facing seats. Gina said, “I think this summer, we should get jobs or something. We shouldn’t be entirely dependent on our families for allowances.”

I remembered how I had been at loose ends the previous summer. “It’s already June.”

“They can be part-time. And when the school year starts, we can keep them and put in a few hours after school or on weekends. I mean, we’re old enough to take some responsibilities.”

It was surprising to hear how ambitious she was, but it did make sense to me. “All right, I guess we can start looking next week.”

*******

None of us landed anything in the next five days, but Gina had an idea for the weekend. We were sitting on a bench in the park when she said, “Remember my proposal for a panty-less adventure?”

I said, “That sounds familiar, could you describe it again?” Actually, I did remember, but I wanted to hear her again.

“It’s simple. We’ll all wear dresses or skirts and walk around for a while with no panties on underneath.” She continued, “First we’ll go to Club Mangano, take them off, and put them in our bags. Then we’ll come out and go wherever we wish.”

“And what’s the point of this again?”

“It sounds like a very sexy idea. No one will know except us what we’re doing. Let’s try it and see. Just be sure that your outfit is long enough in case you have to sit down.” She laughed, “We’re not actually going to flash anybody, but it’s nice to know we could if we wish.”

Jenny said, “God help me, I’m not going to do that!”

In the end, we thought that Gina had not really steered us wrong yet, so we agreed to her plan.

Saturday was quite hot, near ninety degrees, and we gathered in our basement to get ready. I had the longest skirt I could find, which went just below my knees. On my feet, there were only a pair of tennis shoes.

In the basement, we didn’t bother to sit down. As we took our drawers off, Gina sang, “ ‘Off with my underpants, off with my gloves. I have no need for underpants, I’m burning with love.’ ”                     

I commented, “That song is about winter, not summer.”

“Yeah, but I can make it fit anyway. Okay, ladies, let’s walk up Gun Hill and see how it goes.”

We were quiet as we came out and walked the first couple of blocks. Then I started to notice how it felt, and it felt very good indeed. The warm air coming off the street rose and went up around my hips, butt, and crotch. I was aware of my bare behind against the back of my skirt, and of my thighs rubbing together as I moved. I knew there was nothing between the sidewalk and my crotch except that warm air I mentioned.

“Gina, this feels like, really nice.”

“I know, I feel it too.”

Jenny agreed with us. As we went towards Webster Avenue, I could feel myself becoming sexually aroused. My pussy was tingling and I was getting damp down there.

“I can’t believe it, I’m becoming turned on.” My two friends confirmed that they were too. By the time we reached a corner, I said, “I hope I don’t drip on the sidewalk.”

Gina said, “It’s that good, isn’t it?”

Anyone seeing us would think we were nice girls dressed up for the weekend, unlike a group of halter-top bimbos. But I could see the spring in our strides, the way we were swaying our hips.

We decided to stop at a luncheonette and get some sodas at the counter. It was a way for us to get our bearings back. As we sat there, I whispered to Gina, “I feel so naughty.”

“It’s worse than that. Only really bad girls forgo their panties.”

“So we’re bad then?”

“Oh yeah, the worst of the worst.” I remembered a 1950’s movie with Mamie Van Doren called Girls’ Town. Van Doren, at the age of twenty-eight, played a teen with the improbable name of Silver Morgan who gets sent to a Catholic reform school. Nuns and tits, a great film combination.

The guy behind the counter was in his early thirties, and he took no notice of us. When we were outside later, Gina said, “You know what would have been fun? On the way out, I could have said, ‘I’m not wearing panties!’ and then flashed my behind at that guy.”

Jenny was appalled. “You can’t do that unless you’re serious about it, I mean willing to take the consequences.”

“What consequences?”

“You’re signaling that you want to have sex with him, that’s what.”

“Okay, I was just kidding.”   

We kept walking uphill, then we veered into a park called Reservoir Oval. As we went along the circular walkway, two young guys approached us coming in the opposite direction.

One was fairly tall and had reddish-blonde hair. I guessed that he might have been of Irish ancestry. There were certainly a lot of those in the surrounding neighborhood.

The other one was a little shorter and with his wavy dark hair, he seemed to be Italian or Jewish. There were fairly regular-looking guys, and they seemed pretty placid. They weren’t swaggering or talking trash like some males would do. However, they did look us over when we were close.

Usually in such situations, I would avert my eyes and keep going. That wasn’t Gina’s style, however. She had to stop and address them. “Hi guys, how are you doing?”

They were completely unprepared for that, and the taller one simply said, “What?”

She laughed at him. “You could at least tell us your names.”

I was very unhappy at being held up like that, and Jenny appeared to feel the same way. But they did tell us who they were. And they gave their full names, which were Dan Donovan and Jake Goldstein. I had guessed correctly.

Gina said, “That reminds me of a joke. An Irishman, a Jew, and an Italian go into a bar. . .”

Dan interrupted her. “So who’s the Italian?”

“I am! I’m Regina Pucci, but everyone calls me Gina.” Then she pointed to me. “And this lovely person is Chloe Mangano. She’s Italian too, although she doesn’t look it.”

I expressed my displeasure by saying, “I’m an American. I was born here and so were my parents.” I was hoping Gina was going to end this encounter, but she didn’t.

“We should all sit down and chat for a few minutes.”

Probably all four of the rest of us were thinking, about what? It was all I could do to not face-palm myself. Dan and Jake didn’t seem that eager either, but we reluctantly sat on two facing benches, girls on one side and boys on the other.

Gina, why are you doing this?

She did most of the talking. I was uncomfortably aware of my bare body under my skirt, and I kept my knees clamped together.

We mostly talked about school. It turned out that both of the guys went to specialized high schools. Dan attended Music and Art downtown, while Jake went to Bronx Science, which was only a few blocks away.

I think I knew what Gina was thinking. Hm, two interesting guys, not like the usual mooks I know. She found out that they lived in the neighborhood, which was quite close to ours. And they were both seventeen.

She must have thought, Okay, older men, that’s cool.

I could see what was coming. She said, “We should get together again soon. No big deal, just hang out a bit.”

 Dan said, “But there are three of you and two of us.”

“So, you must know someone else who would be interested.”

They came up with somebody with a Jewish last name. Then Gina asked Dan, “Would you please give me your phone number?”

“Wait a minute, you’re supposed to give us your number.”

“I know, but I’m not doing it that way. I’ll make up my mind about if and when I want to do something.”

He agreed and wrote his number on a receipt from his wallet. A couple of minutes later – thank God – we decided to go on our ways. The last thing that Dan said was, “So what was the rest of that joke?

“Hah, there is nothing more!” 

On the way downhill, I said, “Gina, why the hell did you stop those guys and have to talk to them? Please don’t call them.”

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t trying to pick them up. They’re not even probationary yet. It was just another experiment, a way to have some fun.”

“But you did, in effect, pick them up.”

She ignored that. “Speaking of which, we should go back to Club Mangano right now and finish ourselves off.”

I didn’t want to admit how great that sounded. “All right, let’s go. I think I’m ready for it.” Jenny was ready too.

But we got delayed along the way, by Gina of course. As we crossed the bridge over the commuter rail tracks, she looked down at the southbound platform which had no one waiting there. Immediately a gimmick struck her.

“Look, there’s no one there. I’d like to go down there and try to flash a passing train.”

“It’s Saturday, there aren’t as many trains running today.”

“Let’s look at the schedule at least.”

Jenny said, “You’re completely insane to do something like that.”

“No I’m just daring, that’s all.”

I said, “Let’s humor her at least. I doubt this is going to work at all.”

Down at platform level, there were complex schedule boards for both inbound and outbound services. Gina knew how to interpret them, and after scanning them, she said, “This is perfect. There will be a northbound train passing through here without stopping in six or seven minutes.”

“So what are you going to?”

“You’ll see. Let’s go to the south end in case somebody comes down the stairs.”

Jenny said, “What do you expect us to do?”

“Just stand there and try to block the view of me. It’s only going to be for a few seconds.”

Jenny and I looked at each other with something like dismay. I said, “She’s hell-bent on doing this, so it’s her problem I guess.”

Gina stood facing away from the tracks. There were four of them, and I assumed that a northbound train would use one of the two furthest from us. Just as advertised, a train came around the bend from the south. I later guessed that it was going about forty to fifty miles per hour.

Our wild friend lifted her dress, bent over to grab a railing, and fully exposed herself. First I looked at her tight little ass, her pussy, and her pubic hair. Then I looked at the train to gauge if anyone inside noticed her. It was going too fast for me to figure out what the passengers were looking at.

At one point, Gina waved back at it and said, “Hey guys, how are you doing? I look pretty good, don’t I?” A couple of seconds later, it had passed under Gun Hill Road and then it was beyond the northbound platform.

Jenny was upset. “There might have been someone on there who knows us.”

“Are you kidding? Anybody near here would have taken a train that stops. All of those people live in Scarsdale or some such place.”

“Nevertheless, we should get out of here already.”

Back at street level, Gina was bubbly from her recent stunt. “I really am a bad, bad girl. I wish I could tell those stuck-up chicks at Evander all about it.”

Jenny said, “Please don’t do that. I’ll be implicated too.”

“Don’t worry, I would never do that. But I’m certainly ready to go to the basement now.”

I pointed out, “Except we don’t have our toys with us.”

“You have the sofa to play with. As for us, any girl worth her salt should be able to get off using just her fingers.”

*****

It was Gina’s big day. Down in Club Mangano, I did mount the couch arm, but it was it in my usual way, facing towards the back. I gripped the rear panel and enthusiastically rubbed myself on the cloth.

I climaxed first. That time, I was completely uninhibited in making as much noise as I wanted. I was chanting some predictable thing like, “This is so good, I’m going to come, I’m really going to come.” People having orgasms rarely say anything witty or even original.

My friends were on the sofa in the same places they had been on that earlier day. Of course, they only had their hands to wank themselves. Jenny suddenly said, “I don’t know, it doesn’t seem to be working today.”

Gina asked her, “What’s the problem sweetie?”

“Between meeting those guys and then your train exploits, I’m kind of distracted.”

The next part of their exchange floored me. Gina said, “I can help you, you know.”

“You mean you’re going to touch me again?”

“No, I was thinking of putting my mouth on you.”

I was shocked. “Gina! I thought you mostly liked men.”

She was quite calm. “Mostly, yes. But as Kinsey wrote, most of us are at least a bit bisexual.”

“You’ve actually read Kinsey?”

“No, but I know what he said.”

I had to say more. “Have you done this before?”

“I’ve seen photos of it, I know what to do. It’s not that complicated.” Then she tried to clinch it. “This is Jenny’s call.”

I fully expected Jenny to reject her, but she didn’t. She pondered it for a few moments, then she said, “All right, let’s give it a try.”

She moved to her place sideways on the cushion, and she leaned back on the sofa arm. As she spread her legs, I saw that she had finally trimmed her pubic hair. Instead of the tangled mess it had been, it was very neatly cut.

Gina turned towards her and put her left leg on the sofa cushion and her right one of the floor. I understood that this was between the two of them and that I shouldn’t interfere. Yet my curiosity overcame my doubts and I got behind Gina so I could see better.

Well, this is going to happen regardless of what I think. Gina was tentative yet gentle as she put her tongue and fingers on her friend’s pussy. Then she started kissing her there too. I was struck by how fast Jenny reacted. Her right leg went up the back of the couch and she put her head back and began moaning. Her hands ran through Gina’s dark hair.

Perhaps I was in awe; I had never personally witnessed a sex act that explicit. Then Gina turned her head to look back and she said, “Chloe, dear, would you please rub me?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Finger-fuck me, in other words. You’ve done it to yourself often enough; surely you know how to do it to me.”

“I’ve never touched someone’s genitals in my life.”

“There’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?”

My whole body felt warm, and I experienced both fear and fascination. Then an odd joke came to me. Certainly, none of us are going to get pregnant from all this, that’s for sure.

I moved without thinking too much about it. I lifted her dress and draped it over her back. My right hand went between her legs and I felt how wet she was. Two fingers or three? The latter seemed best; two for her vagina and the third one for her clitoris.

Yes, we were a very good team. Jenny came first, clamping her legs around her friend’s head and saying things like, “Please, lick me, kiss me. It’s so good.” Whatever she said next was unintelligible.

It seemed like in less than a minute I brought Gina to her peak. I could feel her spasming around my fingers. She lifted herself up and made her own set of noises. Then she fell flat onto Jenny. The two of them put their arms around each other.

I was sitting there feeling very confused indeed. Then I put my fingers up to sniff Gina’s scent. It seemed just like my own. Maybe all women are the same.

*****

About ten minutes later the three of us were sitting in a row on the couch; Gina was in the middle. We had purchased bottles of Coca-Cola during the walk down the hill, and we were drinking from them at that point. However, we weren’t saying anything.

Finally, Gina looked at her bottle and said, “Yes, Coke. The beverage of choice for very bad girls.”

She was referring to the Danish girl in the photos who had her red-checked dress and white panties. Then she said, “Well, I guess it’s time to sum things up. For one thing, I’d say I busted Jenny’s cherry today.”

“No, you did not!”

“I did if you were a lesbian.”

“But I’m not a lesbian.”

“You engaged in a lesbian act, however.”

Then Gina went into a long-winded treatise about the nature of sexual orientations. Ever since her T.S. Eliot revelation, she had become more comfortable discussing esoteric topics. Her theory was that people might not consider themselves homosexual, but they would have sex with the same gender if no one else was available.

She related a story she had read about a man who had his adolescence in rural Virginia during the 1930s. Apparently, heavy petting with girls was frowned upon, so the boys would have sex with each other.

I had to know, “What did they do? Handjobs or blowjobs?”

“I don’t know, he didn’t go into that much detail.”

Jenny said, “How about anal sex?”

“As I said, I don’t know. I do know that when they became adults and got married, they never considered themselves to be gay.”

I protested, “But we’re in the middle of New York, and it’s forty years later.”

“Well, we don’t have any guys yet, but we do have each other, right?” As we pondered that, she continued, “Speaking of which, those two guys Dan and Jake and their unknown third buddy; well, I have Dan’s phone number as you saw. I propose that I call him and arrange something very informal, just lunch or something.”

I said, “How many lovers are we supposed to have?”

“It’s just some harmless flirtation and a different kind of experiment. Call it a way to get our feet wet with the male gender.”

“We’re already wetter than that when it comes to, call it Sapphic activities.”

“You’re right, we’re already up to our waists with that.”

Jenny said, “This sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Then don’t go then.” She looked at me, “Chloe, how does it sound to you?”

 “I’ll have to think about it more.”

“That’s fine, there’s no rush.”

She always said that there was no rush and then she’d rush it anyway. At that point, she opened her bag and took her panties out. They were very simple white cotton ones. As she held them up, she sang, “ ‘My cunt’s on fire, the flames grow higher, I can weather the storm. I have no need for underpants, I’ve got my love to keep me warm.’ ”

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