The Trio - Part 3 free porn video

THE TRIO - Part 3 SARAH BUYS A SWIMSUIT After the talent show, mother had been making strong suggestions that she would like to see Sarah again. I had started music lessons with Mrs. Benson, and had a lesson that coming Sunday. Mrs. Benson had strongly hinted that she wanted to see me as Sarah. I had no serious objections to that suggestion, since I was enjoying dressing as Sarah. Therefore, I suggested that I change from George to Sarah right after church, and mom, dad and I could go for lunch. Mom liked this idea. There was a bit of a wait to be seated at the restaurant, and while I was standing I noticed a boy of about my age sizing me up. "That boy in the plaid shirt keeps staring at me," I told my mother. "That happens when you are a pretty girl," mother replied. "Take it as a compliment." I looked directly at the boy and smiled. He dropped his gaze and blushed. During the meal, this same boy walked to and from the washroom, not once, but twice. "That same boy has walked by our table twice," I told my mother. "He must like the way you look." When he came by again, I looked into his face, and smiled. He blushed and smiled. My mother smiled and said, "Do you think he's cute?" "Oh mother," I replied, as if that was a ridiculous question. The truth of the matter was that I did think he was cute, and I was attracted to him. Am I gay? I wondered. "I'm a guy, mother, I'm not supposed to think he's cute," I lied. On our way home from lunch, my parents dropped me off at Mrs. Benson's house. Mrs. Benson opened the door and put a hand on my shoulder and led me inside. Once the door was closed behind me, she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a long kiss on the lips which I returned. "How was lunch?" she asked. "There was a boy who kept looking at me," I replied. "Was he cute?" she asked. "Kind of," was my different reply the same question my mother had asked. "Were you attracted to him?" "Well . . ." I hesitated. "If I was, does that mean I'm gay?" "Not necessarily," she said. "After spending a lot of time as a girl, it could be your feminine side coming out." "Let me ask you a question," she added. "Would you rather kiss Ashley or kiss him?" "I don't know," was my reply. Mrs. Benson just gave me a smile at my response. "We can talk about this later. Right now there is something I want to talk to you about. I think that I mentioned that I am teaching voice at a music camp this summer. I am allowed to bring up a protege of my choice to help me. I was thinking that you might be interested. You would be my accompanist, since all of the other pianists will be teaching piano." I nodded my head. "The best part is that I get a two person cabin, and if she is a girl, my protege can share it with me. Do you like the idea?" "Yes," I replied. "The camp runs for six weeks," she said. I smiled at the thought of having that much time with Mrs. Benson. Forty-two nights of fun was my next thought. I hadn't taken menstrual cycles in my calculations, but even so there would be lots of opportunities. "Why don't you talk it over with your parents. As my accompanist, you don't have to pay, but on the other hand, nobody pays you. See if you can have an answer in a week," she concluded. When I returned home, I told my parents about the camp. I omitted the facts about the sleeping arraignments. "Will you be going up as George or Sarah?" my mother asked. "Ummm, I don't know. If I were to go as Sarah, would that be a problem?" "You have to think about the consequences if you went as Sarah," she said, "You are likely to attract the attention of boys, and I am not sure you know how to handle that." "I think I can learn how to handle it." I reassured her. "We don't want you to be humiliated or hurt," my father said. "Another concern is where you will sleep. If you are in a cabin with other girls, it is likely that your secret will be discovered, with unfortunate consequences." "Mrs. Benson said I can share her two person cabin with her as Sarah. She already knows about George and Sarah, so that is not a problem," I said. "Those are our main concerns," my mother said, "aside from that, I think it would be a great experience for you." "So I can go?" "Yes." "As Sarah?" "Yes." I was not wholly surprised by my parents' reaction, since I knew that my mother liked me to be to be an occasional daughter. After a pause, my mother said, "Find out what equipment and clothes you need, like whether you need a sleeping bag. We'll need to go shopping." As Sarah, was the unspoken part. My mother really liked shopping with me as Sarah. The next Sunday, I arrived at Mrs. Benson's house at the usual time. After a passionate greeting she handed me an envelope and asked me to sit down and look through it. It was the information for the camp. "You will be considered part of the staff and there is a dress code for the staff," she started out, "There is the staff uniform which is a black camp polo shirt along with either a tan skirt or tan shorts or tan slacks. You will wear the camp uniform for all classes, for lunch and dinner and for evening performances, unless you are a performer. The camp will provide you with four polo shirts. You will be expected to purchase enough skirts, shorts or slacks for four complete uniforms." "For other times the dress code is more relaxed. You may have noticed that the camp is on a lake, and there is boating and swimming. If you want to do either of these you will need a swim suit. For sports, you can wear what you want." "As an instructor, I am expected to give recitals many times in the evenings. You will be accompanying me, and both of us will need to be in floor length black gowns." "The rest of the suggested clothing and personal items are listed on a sheet in the package," she concluded. "However, you should also know that there are dances held every Saturday night. The camp has two bands, so the bands alternate playing the dances. I would expect that you and I will wear dresses to the dances, although the uniform is acceptable." "There is another matter. I expect that you will be asked to dance by a lot of boys. You might want to think about how you will handle that. Some of the dances will be slow dances, and if you want, I can teach you how to slow dance as a girl before camp starts." "It looks like you will need to do some shopping before camp starts," she concluded. "If your mother objects to the expense, I can front you some money. I can also take you shopping." "My mother has made it pretty clear that she treasures each moment when I am with her as her daughter," I said, "I think that she will be unhappy if we cut her out of a shopping trip." "Maybe I can take you shopping for your recital gown," she said, "it's not on any list, and she won't know about it if we keep it here." The next Saturday my mother, with the list in her hand, and I, as Sarah, went shopping. The first stop was to buy enough panties, bras, slips, camisoles, and hosiery to supplement what I already had. "There are a lot of things on this list that we will have to buy," she said, "I hope this means that Sarah will be around a lot after you come home from camp." We found the tan box-pleated skirts and shorts at a store that specialized in school uniforms. The camp would supply the polo shirts. The big item left was the swimsuit. Mother and I headed for swim wear area in a department store. My mother was interested in a swimsuit that looked like it had a short skirt attached to it. "It's called a swim dress. The skirt part covers your crotch, and will help hide any inappropriate bumps there. We can also look at a cover-up to put over your suit when you get out of the water." We finally settled on one with a skirt that extended an inch or below the crotch, and was not cut low on top. It covered my non-existent cleavage and any bulge in my crotch. The only difficulty was that it needed at least a B cup. "What do you suggest about filling out my top?" I asked. "We'll have to see about that," my mother answered, "the difficulty lies in that fact that anything we put there will get wet, and might not do well if you get it wet. Not a very satisfactory solution for swim wear." We also found a cover-up that went with the swim dress. A pair of flip- flops, a beach bag, a beach towel, and a big straw hat completed our purchases. After completing the purchases, we began walking toward the exit of the mall when my mother spotted the same store where I had purchased my gaff. She led me into the store, and asked the clerk if they had any breastforms. Thankfully it was a different clerk from the one who sold me the gaff. The clerk pulled a selection out of the drawers and put them on the counter. "Are they for your daughter?" she asked. "Yes, she seems to be developing slower than her friends, and needs a little help." "Well honey, why don't you come into the back and take off your top," the clerk suggested. I did as I was told, overjoyed that I was getting breasts. The clerk picked up two smaller, more or less triangular forms. "These will fill you to between an A and B cup," she said as she slipped them into the cups of my bra. "Will these work in my swimsuit, and can they get wet?" I asked. "These are designed to be worn for several weeks at a time," the clerk answered, "they come with an adhesive so you can glue them on. You can wear them all the time, even when you shower. When you want to take them off you use a solvent." "Are these expensive?" my mother asked. "As breast forms go, not really," the clerk answered, "unlike the more expensive ones, these are designed to be hidden by your bra or swimsuit at all times. They definitely are not suitable for going topless or with tops that show a lot of cleavage." My mother silently contemplated the breastforms. "I expect to see a lot of Sarah in the future," she said to me. Turning to the clerk, she said, "We'll take them, along with some extra adhesive and solvent." The clerk looked at me and said, "you need to remove them every two weeks, and wash the area well. If you develop any rash or pain, you should discontinue using them." Finally, the clerk said to me, "Do you want me to put them on for you now?" With a big smile, I said, "Please." On our way home, my mother said to me, "You seem to be enjoy being Sarah, don't you?" "Well, sorta," I cautiously replied. "Okay, let me put it this way," she said, "which do you like better, being George or being Sarah?" No one had ever put it to me that way. "I donno," I muttered. When I got home, I called Ashley, and asked her if she wanted to come over and see my new swimsuit and new breasts. When she arrived, I told her all about the music camp, and then decided to show her my swimsuit. We went up to my room, and I began to undress. I took off my bra, and Ashley stared at my new breasts. "B cup," I announced, stretching the truth a bit. "May I touch them?" Ashley asked. "Sure, it's just us girls here," I replied. Cautiously Ashley cupped my breastforms. "It almost feels real," she said. "Can you feel that?" she asked. "Yes," I replied. "Does it feel good?" was her next question. "Yeah." Ashley withdrew her hand. "Do you want me to model my new swimsuit?" I asked. "Ok," she said with some reservation. I put the swimsuit on. "That is really girly." Ashley said. "I really didn't think that you would keep this Sarah thing going after the talent show." "Well, my mother kind of encouraged it," I said. "You like being a girl, don't you?" Ashley asserted "Sorta." I said. For some reason, Ashley seemed uncomfortable with this. "If I am attracted to you, what does that make me?" Ashley asked. "Look, under all of this, I'm still the same old George." I asserted. "I'm not sure about that," Ashley muttered softly. Nothing was said for the next minute. "Do you like boys?" Ashley asked. "I donno, when I am dressed as George, no. When I'm Sarah, I'm not sure how I feel." I responded. "Have you ever kissed a boy when you are Sarah?" That question surprised me. "No," I replied. At that time my mother called us, "Girls, I have some snacks ready. Come downstairs." I was thankful that our conversation was ended. For the next few days, I was totally George. No breast forms, no bra, no panties, and no makeup. I got the feeling that Ashley liked this, and no further mention of our previous conversation was made. I had just about finished shopping for camp. I looked at the list from camp and checked off what I had. I noted that I still had not acquired a long black gown that would be necessary for Mrs. Benson's recitals. I called Mrs. Benson and arranged to meet her that afternoon. "Can you take me to Mrs. Benson's house in about an hour? We need to go over some details for the camp," I asked my mother. "Sure, dear," she replied. I went into all girl mode, and carefully dressed as Sarah, complete with waist nipper, breast forms, garter belt with hose, and a pair of two inch strappy sandals. Over this I wore one of my tan camp skirts and a white sleeveless blouse. I brushed out my hair and put it into a bun high on the back of my head, and I applied what I considered to be "day time " makeup. I grabbed a brown leather purse, and checked the contents before putting it over my shoulder. "I'm ready, mom," I announced, standing by the door. "Wow," my mother said when she saw me. "You really look good, Sarah," she added. I met Mrs. Benson at her door. "Well, it looks like you are ready to get a long black gown," she said, and we both walked to her car. Once in her car, we kissed, and she put her hand on my new breast. "Something new, I see," she said with a big smile on her face. "I like it." Mrs. Benson drove to a discount store that sold prom and formal gowns, where she said we could probably find a simple gown for not a lot of money. We found a nice floor length for about $60, but it was strapless, which meant that I would have to buy a strapless bra. There was another gown for $100 that was sleeveless and had lace above the bust line and a full skirt with a gathered waist, which allowed the dress to flare out when I spun. It was a bit more modest that the first gown, and would not require that I buy a strapless bra. Because the store specialized in prom dresses, we were able to buy a bra, panties, slip, garter belt and hose. It seemed like a lot of money to just be dressed for Mrs. Benson's recitals, but Mrs. Benson assured me that it was worth the price. We next stopped at a cosmetics counter, where I bought some eyeshadow to complement the black gown. While we were back in the car, I told Mrs. Benson about the swimsuit I had purchased. She asked me about the breastforms. I told her that I got them because I could wear them under my swim dress in the water. "That's not the only reason, is it?" Mrs. Benson asked with a wicked grin on her face. "Well, maybe not," I admitted. When we arrived at Mrs. Benson's house, she suggested that I put on all of my new purchases along with a pair of heels, and see how they worked for playing the piano. They worked perfectly well. She suggested that I take off the gown and put it on a hanger, which I did. I didn' t take off my slip, bra, panties, garter belt, hose or shoes. Mrs. Benson looked me over with approval. "That looks really good," she said, and then she added, "After all of the money I just spent, I think I am entitled to some physical thanks from you." I moved forward into her embrace, and we exchanged several long and passionate kisses, followed by some intense love making with me as a girl. I was beginning to really like making love as a girl, which caused me some concern. "I think that both of us will enjoy the camp," she said. SARAH AT CAMP Finally, it was the day to head to camp. I had packed two large suitcases and a hanging bag with all of my clothes and other things for camp. I wore a box pleated skirt and a black top. I was going to ride with Mrs. Benson, so my parents drove me to Mrs. Benson's house. Rather than just dropping me off, they came inside and talked with Mrs. Benson for a few minutes. "You'll keep an eye on her?" my mother asked. "Of course," replied Mrs. Benson. My dad reached into his pocket and pulled out some currency. "Here is some money, if you need it at camp," he said. I thanked him, and put the money into my purse. "Don't forget to write," my mother reminded me. After some further talk, my parents gave me hugs and headed back home. "Time to get the rest of your clothes," Mrs. Benson said, and we headed upstairs to get our gowns. It was about a two hour ride to camp, and we arrived about 11:30. The camp was a madhouse, with campers and their instruments, parents, and luggage all over the place. Mrs. Benson took me over to the administration center to check in. "I'm Mrs. Benson. I'm teaching voice, and this is my protege and accompanist Sarah. We are supposed to be sharing a two person cabin." "Oh yes, we have you here. You are assigned to faculty cabin 17. Here is a map of the camp. I have circled your cabin. You might want to put your things in the cabin, and then come back to the main lodge for lunch and to pick up your polo shirts." The cabin was not large, there was only room for two bunk beds, two closets, two dressers, two chairs, and a small table. There was a small lavatory and toilet in the back, but no shower. "There is a main shower house near the lodge," Mrs. Benson announced after looking at the map. "I hope that you brought a robe and flip- flops." While we were unpacking, we heard a bell. "That must be the lunch bell. Let's head over to the lodge." The dining room was a rather large room, since it doubled as the performance area and the dance hall. There was a cafeteria line along one wall, and a stage on the opposite wall. The other walls had large windows. Tables and chairs had been set up for lunch. We waited in line until we filled our trays and headed for an open table. No sooner had we sat down than four boys hurried over and filled the remaining spots at the table. "I'm Mrs. Benson, and I teach voice. This is Sarah, my protege and accompanist," Mrs. Benson said as an introduction. The boys then introduced themselves by first name and then instrument. We had a french horn, an oboe, and two violins. I could see the boys sizing us up, and rather than being insulted, I found it to be rather flattering. "When are you performing?" the french horn, whose name was Charlie, asked. "As part of the faculty, Sarah and I are performing tonight. I'll be singing some of the Winterreise by Schubert with Sarah at the piano. I hope you enjoy it." While we had practiced the songs at Mrs. Benson's house, I asked, "Maybe we can go over them before this evening?" " I'll see if we can scare up a piano for this afternoon," Mrs. Benson answered. "We have sectionals this afternoon," one of the violins, whose name was Steve, said. "If we get done in time, I'd like to hear your rehearsal." "You're welcome to come, but I have no idea where we will find a piano and practice room," Mrs. Benson added. "I'll just listen for someone singing in German, and follow my ear," Steve replied. After some more small talk, the boys excused themselves. "I think you have some new friends," Mrs. Benson confided to me. "You really have to like lieder to want to go to a rehearsal. I think that they are more interested in you than in Schubert." Mrs. Benson had a contemplative look on her face. "You know, you are going to be surrounded by teenage boys for the next six weeks. You'll have to learn what a girl does in such circumstances. You certainly can flirt, but obviously you can't let it go further." "What about the dances," I asked, "should I just not go?" "No, but you will have to keep things on a platonic level," Mrs. Benson advised. "That doesn't sound like a lot of fun. How about a kiss or two?" I said coyly. "I don't advise it. You may have to forego some fun if you want to keep it a secret that your are George underneath all of your girly clothes," Mrs. Benson concluded, "Anyway, I'll provide you with all of the kisses you may want or need, and then some," she added with a seductive smile. After a pause, Mrs. Benson asked, "By the way, when did you start to want to kiss boys?" "I donno. I just wonder what it would be like," I responded. "Must be the clothes," commented Mrs. Benson. Am I gay I wondered, or do I really want to be a girl? The practice room was one of the classrooms in a building near the lodge. None of the boys showed up. It was my guess that the sectionals took longer than they thought. After a good practice, Mrs. Benson and I retired to our cabin for a rest before supper. When we got up, Mrs. Benson suggested that we take a shower and get dressed in our underwear and lingerie, but wear our uniform skirts and tops to dinner. After dinner we returned to the cabin to get dressed for the recital. My lingerie was all black, black bra and panties, black garter belt and hose, black waist nipper, and a black slip. The evening gown which I had purchased was floor length, which meant that I had to wear heels with the gown. It featured a sheer lace illusion sleeveless bodice with a low cut scooped neckline and ruched empire waist. The skirt was full and gathered at the waist, so it flared out, especially if I twirled. Mrs. Benson had a black gown which was straight, but covered with chiffon. We put on our gowns and admired each other, and celebrated with a long and delightful kiss, before we sat down to put on our makeup. Since we were dressing for evening, my makeup was a little heavier than otherwise. It included lots of mascara, dark eyebrow pencil, heavier blush and midnight blue eye shadow. Our gowns were so long that we had to pick them up as we walked to the lodge. There was an area near the stage for the performers to wait until their turn. With us was an all female string quartet who were dressed in the camp uniform. Additionally, there was a pianist who was to play the three gymnopedies by Erik Satie. The whole recital would take about an hour, excluding intermissions. Ours was the last part of the recital. The camp director announced our names and we stepped on to the stage, lifting the fronts of our gown up as we did. There was some polite applause, accompanied with some wolf whistles. I swept the back of my gown as I sat down on the piano bench, and then hiked the hem up a bit so it would not get caught in the pedals. With a nod from Mrs. Benson, I began the first song. I was pleased with the way it went, and to judge from the applause, so did the audience. As we took our bows, we were greeted with more wolf whistles. After we left the stage, the camp staff brought out lemonade and cookies. "As performers, we are encouraged to mingle with the audience and discuss the music and the performance," Mrs. Benson informed me. This made me more than a little nervous. "Can I leave now?" I asked. "No, that would not be a good idea," Mrs. Benson advised. "Then please stay near me," I pleaded. "You'll be alright," Mrs. Benson said, "just smile and stick to discussing Schubert." I found myself surrounded by about a dozen boys, including the four I met at lunch. "You guys were great. I never was in to lieder, but your performance may change my mind," said Charlie, the french horn. "You really looked pretty up there with your long dresses," commented Steve, one of the violins. I smiled and blushed with the compliments. "Where did you learn to play?" asked the other violin. "I've taken lessons for about ten years, and earlier this year Mrs. Benson accompanied a trio, where I sang one of the parts." "What did you sing?" asked the oboe. "I sang 'Someone to Watch Over Me' by the Gershwins, and some other songs of the same genre." "I'd love to hear you sing that song," commented the oboe. "Hear the song? Heck, I'd like to be the one to watch over you," commented the french horn. "Thanks for the offer, but I already have someone to watch over me," I said with a smile. I was beginning to love the attention of the boys. If this is part of being a girl, I don't know if I ever want to go back to being George, I thought. Several of the boys walked Mrs. Benson and me to our cabin. When they finally left, Mrs. Benson turned to me and said, "Well, you certainly had a lot of attention. A lot more that I had, and you are just the accompanist." I giggled, and said, "Are you a little jealous?" "Well, maybe," she said with a smile. "But after all, you are mine," and with this she embraced me and we share several passionate kisses. "We don't want to get our gowns dirty, so why don't we take them off and hang them up?" Mrs. Benson suggested, with an alluring smile. After hanging up our gowns, I was standing there in my slip and lingerie. Mrs. Benson, who was similarly clad embraced me again, and took my hand and placed it on her breast. I began to gently massage her breast. Mrs. Benson then led me over to her bunk, and sat down next to me. "I think that we could both use a little girl to girl love. That would help me get over my jealousy." A half an hour later we were both nearly naked, and sexually satisfied. Mrs. Benson said, "Well, I think I'm over my jealousy." She looked into my eyes and said, "We probably should discuss your sexuality. Do you feel that you are a boy, or would you rather be a girl. However, after our fun tonight, maybe this is not the time to think about it." At lunch the next day, the four members of the female string quartet sat down at our table before any of the boys could do so. "We really loved the lieder you did last night. The two of you really seemed to click with each other," said first violin. "We would like to do Mozart's Quintet for Piano and Strings in E Flat Major, and we need a pianist," said the cello, "and we would like it to be an all female ensemble." The viola turned to Mrs. Benson and said, "I know that Sarah is your protege and accompanist, and we wouldn't want to interfere with your teaching, but if you could spare Sarah, we would really like to have her join us." "I think that we could work something out," said Mrs. Benson with a smile. "If I played the quintet with you, would any of the piano staff get their panties all in a wad because you didn't ask them?" I asked. "I don't think so," said the viola, "they keep on spouting off that they are so busy, that they have no time for anything else. From what I've seen in past years, the ladies like to drive into town every afternoon after three, and come back at six." Mrs. Benson then turned to me and said, "Well, Sarah, do you feel like giving it a try? It will mean you giving up a lot of free time to work with the quartet." Flattery will get you everything. "Yes, I'd like to try it," I responded with a blush. "All of us have classes until three every afternoon," the second violin said, "maybe we could put in an hour or two on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays?" "That would work for me," said Mrs. Benson, "my voice classes are over at three also, so I wouldn't need Sarah after that, except for days when we have a recital." "Same for us," responded the cello. "Would you be willing to give up some of your weekend time, also?" asked the first violin. "Yeah, I guess so," I replied. "You may not have noticed, but Sarah has piqued the interest of some of the boys in camp. A little extra practice time would mean that Sarah has less time to get in trouble," Mrs. Benson said with a laugh. The quartet joined her with a chuckle. I just stuck out my tongue at Mrs. Benson. "Then it's settled. Shortly after three today, in practice room seven." The practice went well. I liked the women of the quartet and they seemed to like me. The quintet runs for a little less than thirty minutes, so we were able to read through it three times that afternoon. I wore my heels to the practice. "You don't have to wear your heels to the practice," commented the cello. "I know, but I don't like to switch between heels and flats, because it affects my pedal work. Since I perform in heels, I like to practice with them," I commented. "Sounds like a good reason to me," said the cello. The other members murmured their consent. After practicing with the quartet, Mrs. Benson and I met them in the dinner line, so we had a table by ourselves, without any of the boys. We discussed Mozart. The next day was Tuesday, and I had free time from three until dinner. The day was sunny and warm, so I decided to go down to the lake. I was in the cabin putting on my swimsuit when Mrs. Benson arrived. "You look really cute in that outfit," said Mrs. Benson, "getting a swim dress rather than a bikini was a good choice." "My mother said the same thing. Anyway, she put her foot down and said no to a bikini, or ever a high cut one-piece," I explained. I put on my coverup, and grabbed my beach bag, beach towel, sun glasses, floppy straw hat, and sun screen. I then put on a pair of flip-flops, and headed down to the lake. As soon as I arrived, I was intercepted by the four boys from dinner on Sunday. "We kinda thought you would be here yesterday," one of them said in a challenging voice. "I was busy with something else," I replied. I took off the coverup and put it on my beach towel. "How come you don't wear a bikini, like some of the other girls?" came another challenge. I was getting a little irked with the boys. "Because I am not one of 'the other girls'," I said. "Furthermore, I am here at the camp for the music. I am not here to be a sex object. If you don't like my swimsuit, you can leave me alone." "Sorry," came the reply, "it's just that you are so cute, you'd look great in a bikini." "Watch it," I said, "what I just said still stands." Regardless of what was said, none of the boys left. During that day, I could feel the heat of the sun on my back. Oh boy, I thought, if I keep this up I'm going to have some interesting tan lines when I start school in the fall. Friday was the first camp dance. Mrs. Benson and I put on dresses and heels. When we arrived at the lodge, we noted that few of the other girls wore dresses or even skirts. Most of them wore jeans or shorts. I also noted that most wore some type of rubber soled athletic shoes. Not good shoes for dancing, I thought. Upon our arrival, we attracted a bunch of boys, including the four I met at lunch the first day. After some small talk and flirting, Steve asked me to dance. After a few fast dances, the band started a waltz. Steve put his right hand on my back and took my right hand in his left hand. I put my left hand on his shoulder, and we started waltzing. I was thankful that Mrs. Benson had taught me a bunch of dances. The more we danced, the more Steve pulled me closer to him. He was so close to me that I thought I could feel his cock getting harder. I really felt confused. "Why don't we sit a few out, and maybe go outside to cool off?" I suggested. The evening air outside was pleasant and we sat together on a bench. We talked about music for a while. Suddenly he reached his arm around me and lowered his face to mine and gave me a quick kiss on the mouth. I did nothing. He then kissed me again, and I could feel his tongue pressing on my lips, which I kept closed. I was afraid of what would happen if I kissed him back. Since I did not kiss him back, I didn't count this as kissing a boy. Our lips parted, and I pushed away from him a bit. "Maybe we should go back in," I suggested. He took my hand in his and we walked back into the dance, hand in hand. I refused all of his offers to dance, saying that I had to dance with the other boys. After the dance, Mrs. Benson and I walked back to the cabin. "Steve kissed me tonight," I told her. "Did you kiss him back?" "No." "Did you like the kiss?" "Sorta, but it really makes me confused. I'm way out of my league," I concluded. "You're learning that it isn't so easy dealing with boys," Mrs. Benson said. After three weeks at camp, I realized that I had been ignoring my training for cross country. I knew that I would have to get in shape or I wouldn't make the team which meant that I would have to be in PE class with the neanderthals and bullies. At least if I was on the team, I could pretend to be a "jock," which would keep the harassment to a minimum. I got up early on Monday, put on shorts and a top over my panties and bra. I regretted not having bought a sports bra and ankle socks, but what I had would have to do the trick. I stretched, and did some warm up exercises, and set off for a half hour run. After only about fifteen minutes I began to hurt, a consequence of the sedentary life at camp. After my run, the camp was just coming to life. I went into the cabin to get some clean underwear, my robe and flip-flops for a shower. Mrs. Benson was awake, but still in bed. "How about a hug?" she said. "I've just been running, so I might not smell so great," I replied. "Let me get to the showers, and we can talk about it then," I replied. Since it was still early, there were not a lot of people in the shower, and there was plenty of how water, which allowed me to soothe my aching muscles. When I returned to the cabin, Mrs. Benson asked, "What is all this crack of dawn stuff all about?" "I've got to get in shape for cross country," I replied. "Oh," was her only comment. Thus began my early morning routine for the rest of camp. My body ached less each day, and I was able to map out a two mile route for my runs. Unfortunately, part of the run went by some of the boys' cabins, and I would run across some early risers on my second loop of the route. One of the boys said, "Are you practicing running so you can catch us, or are you practicing to be able to run away from us?" "In your case, the latter," I snapped back, but with a big smile. The resulted in some laughter from the other boys. "I guess you've been told," one of the other boys said. "If any of you want to join me in my run, you are welcome," I said, "but be prepared to be left behind." I never had any takers to join in my early morning runs, but as the days progressed, I had a larger "fan club " as I passed their cabins. A few days later, some of my "fan club " joined me at lunch. "Why do you run?" one asked. "I want to get in shape, and maybe take an inch off of my behind," I replied. "I think that your behind is great just as it is," he said. This resulted in a scowl on my part, and the other boys snickered. As my running got the attention of more boys, and I never wanted for company at meals or partners at the dances, I did note some jealous looks from some of the other girls. The rest of the camp season seemed to fly by. The string quartet and I did several performances, Mrs. Benson and I did a lot of performances, and the days were filled with music lessons and enjoying the lake. I attended all of the dances, but made sure that I danced with a lot of different boys, so Steve would not think that I belonged to him. At last it was time to go home. Some of the boys wanted my address and telephone number, but I told them that my father didn't want me dating until I was sixteen. I certainly did not want them coming by the house when I was in George mode. I did share my Sarah email address with a few, including the string quartet, who were interested in working together over the rest of the year. After a lot of hugging and goodbyes, Mrs. Benson and I packed her car and headed home. During the drive, Mrs. Benson said, "You've had several months of being Sarah. Do you really want to become George again?" "I really don't know," I replied, "I like being Sarah, but I miss being George. In any event, I'll have to be George for the school year." I thought about Ashley and Kimberly, and wondered if they wanted me as Sarah or as George. "There is another factor," I added, "I've began to notice slight hints that my body has decided that I have to be George. I have to shave more often, and my clothes are a little tighter in the chest." "You can always get clothes that fit your developing body," Mrs. Benson suggested, "I'm not sure that I want to let go of Sarah." I wasn't so sure, either.