Chrissy and Emily 3

By Chris and Cassie
puericil@hotmail.com

Copyright 2026, all rights reserved

[2,284 words]

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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.

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Note from Cassie: These memories were told to me by Chris, and I wrote them down in story form. We both hope you enjoy them. If you have any comments, or any questions for Chris, send them to me and I will make sure he receives them.

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Looking back on the trip to Mexico with Emily, nothing really stands out in terms of embarrassment, at least nothing specific. Every day at the beach or pool brought its own embarrassment, but beyond the general humilation of being naked around strangers, few specific incidents come to my mind after so many years. A couple of moments do stick, though.

The first involves the beach hawkers. Those were people who spent the day walking up and down the beach trying to sell you things. I remember Emily getting a braid in her hair. I hated it, new people approaching all the time, lots of them clearly amused by my nudity. (Thank god for the language barrier.) But I remember one vendor had animals: a parrot and a tiny monkey. You could pay to have your photo taken with them. My mother made Emily and me do it. So there we were, posing, and yes, a couple of developed photos exist from that. But I also remember other tourists stopping to watch as we posed, some even taking their own pictures. It was everything I hated, all that attention while I was completely naked. But Emily had a blast (with the animals, not with my predicament).

The second memory is from a kids' activity by the hotel. The coordinator, a young woman probably in her early twenties, came around gathering children for a game. We weren’t part of any official program, but I guess this was open to all guests. The game was simple: strap a balloon to your foot, then try to pop other kids’ balloons until one person remains. I didn’t want to play, but of course Emily did. So the coordinator took my hand, presumably mistaking my reluctance for shyness. I already felt ridiculous. There were a few other naked boys, but none older than about eight, so I stood out.

Then, when the game started. I got into it. I tried my hardest, probably looking silly but somehow pushing it out of my mind. And I won. At first I felt a flash of pride. Emily was clapping. But then I had to go up on a little platform to accept my prize, right next to that same coordinator, and of course an official photo was taken while I was there on display. The prize was food and drink from the in-water bar. So Emily walked me over to the pool (with me still naked, walking like it was nothing), jumped in, and swam over to the bar area where we shared everything. At least in the water I was partially covered, though sitting on one of those elevated stools, anyone nearby could still see I was naked.


There were two other trips. I think they were consecutive Easter breaks, and the trip with Emily happened the fall after the second one, when I was getting closer to fourteen. Both trips were to the same general area, but a different resort.

On the first of those two, it was just my mom and me at the beach. I remember I’d worn shorts down to the sand but ended up taking them off, following mom's instructions. Then a woman arrived with her two daughters: one about my age, one much younger. She spotted my mom, clearly another single mother (though this woman wasn’t actually single; her husband just hadn’t come for some reason), and decided to settle nearby. She was chatty. So was my mom.

The older girl (let’s call her Maggie, she had one of those old-fashioned names) was clearly surprised to see a boy her age completely naked. Clearly this wasn’t something she was used to seeing back home. One of the first things out of her mouth was, “Look, Mom, he’s naked!” I remember my mother launching into her usual speech: how I often went naked, not developed yet, he enjoys it, very liberating... just laying out all my personal information and constructing a narrative I completely disagreed with. But beyond being a live male anatomy lesson (her mother commented more than once what a great learning opportunity this was for her daughter, although no one ever suggested I might learn something from reciprocal treatment), that first trip didn’t leave me with many specific memories.

What I do remember: Maggie stared at my private areas a lot, especially when my mother applied lotion to me. She always noticed, and often commented, when I got an erection, usually way too loud for my comfort. We swam and played together without many other kids around; I can’t recall why. Maybe age differences or language barriers. And she looked proud when my mother asked her to help me rinse off when we left the beach; not using her hand, exactly, but taking charge of me and the beach toys, making sure I rinsed everywhere in the outdoors shower and got all the sand off.


The second trip, I remember wondering if Maggie would be there again, though not with the same positive attitude I had about Emily. I’d played with Maggie and no doubt had moments of fun, but I would have been content had she not come back.

The first day, she wasn't there. But on the second day, I remember I was about to dig a hole in the sand, partly to hide in, when I heard her call my name. Loudly. She came rushing over ahead of her mother and sister (again, no father on the trip that I recall) and gave me a hug. She had grown. The year before, she’d been flat in a one-piece swimsuit. Now she was in a bikini, with prominent breasts for a girl that age. I think the only thing that kept me from getting an erection right then was the sheer shock of it all.

She wasn’t the same personality as Emily, but she wasn't mean either. I remember her looking me up and down and simply declaring, “Oh, you haven’t grown any yet. I did. I thought you’d be bigger by now.” Then she quickly moved on to talk to my mother.

Meanwhile, her mother was calling out, dragging one of those rental lounge chairs across the sand. My mother, always the helpful sort, told me I should go and assist. So I had to walk a good forty or fifty feet to say hello and offer to help. I remember Maggie’s mother saying basically the same thing: great you’re here again, you’re looking good, but still not growing any? Oh well, every child grows at his own pace, at least you can get a nice all-over tan. That kind of chatter the whole time I was carrying the chair back to where my mother was sitting. But with the volume she was speaking and the eyes I could feel on me from other beachgoers, I did get a semi-erection by the time we got back.

Not something everyone would immediately notice, but Maggie sure did. She didn’t say anything, but I remember making eye contact with her, and she had this big smile that made it perfectly clear she knew.

A couple of specific memories come to mind from that second trip.

The first involves a hawker, similar to the one with the animals on the Emily trip, but this one did costumes. Mayan-style dress, I suppose, or something along those lines. There might have been other items, but that's the part I remember. It was essentially body painting. A family ran the setup: a husband, very short and fat but strong, I recall, he carried everything. Then there was a mother and a daughter. The daughter was still a teenager, I believe, though I didn't have a great sense of Mexicans' ages back then. She was short, taller than me, but by American standards, if she was sixteen to eighteen, she would have been considered short. She could have been a year or two younger or older, though. In any case, she seemed amused by my nudity but not obsessed with it.

I don't remember who chose what they were going to do to me, but she painted my face and body with various stripes and tied a couple of cloth things around one arm and one leg. And then, at the very end, she painted my penis. Of course, the vast majority of kids she must have done this for wouldn't have been naked, so I think she did that for her own amusement.

That was immediately followed by being brought out in front of where they had set up... a sort of screened area that the father carried up and down the beach. I just felt so on display that I quickly got hard. That time, my mother noticed and said something to the effect of, "Oh, Chrissy," with a laugh. Maggie laughed too. Who else realized, I can't say, because I was intentionally not focusing on anyone, looking beyond everyone, trying to imagine no one was there.

The second thing I remember from that trip was that the hotel offered (or coordinated) a snorkeling trip off a boat. Nothing too big. Maybe it held twelve guests plus some crew. My mother didn't want to go; I don't remember why. But Maggie's mom offered to have me join them.

We had to go somewhere a distance from the hotel in a shuttle. I think before the boat we ate and maybe looked at souvenirs. I had a shirt, some khaki-style shorts, and a bag with my other stuff. We got on the boat, and they started talking about what we would be doing. They said people should start getting ready, or if anyone wanted to change below, they could. So I checked my bag, because I had brought my swimsuit on this one. But it was the wrong bag. The hotel had given mom and me two bags for guests, and this one had sunscreen, my mom's sunglasses, and some other things, but not my suit or towel.

Suffice it to say, I told Maggie's mom. Her mom did ask if they had an extra suit I might borrow. Sorry, no. So then the next logical course of action, obviously, and without asking me first, was to announce loudly that I had forgotten my swimsuit and would anyone mind if I just went bare? "He's just a little boy." There were only two other kids I remember, twin girls who were maybe seven or eight. I'm not sure why she felt the need to make that clear upfront, but in any case, no one objected. So she told me to do that.

I remember being close to crying. I had been excited to try this, and for a change wasn't going to have to go naked, and then this. I probably was dawdling because I was told to get on with it so I could get some sunscreen on. Yes, she did that for me, on the deck where everyone else was. All over. I remember specifically not getting hard at that, maybe because of how bad I felt.

Anyway, they then showed the mask and gear, and then they had these belt things that attached to a flotation device, so there was something on the surface but you could still swim down. The boat captain thought it would be great to show people how to put it on by demonstrating with me. I don't recall if volunteers were sought first, but I certainly hadn't volunteered, he just chose me for the demonstration. It was just basically straps around the waist and thighs with a buckle. But I was certainly the center of attention, and I remember again retreating into my head and trying not to see all the people seeing me like that.

Once we hit the spot and I could jump into the water, I was able to enjoy that part. I'm sure with the goggles people saw me naked underwater, but I could focus on the fun. At the end, though, we had to take turns climbing a ladder on the side of the boat. A really pretty lady (I say lady, probably between twenty-five and forty-five) told me to go before her. Just as I was climbing, I realized she was looking up, and I could only imagine how I looked. So my body had the usual reaction, and my little thing was still pointing outward when one of the workers was removing the float straps. I remember him, he was American, at least he and the captain were, saying something like, "So, that was a lot of fun?" I just remember because I didn't know if he was saying that because of the snorkeling or because he noticed my erection and was referring to it.

Then they gave us a snack before the boat would sail some more and then go back. So Maggie's mom applied a second coat of sunscreen on me. I was still hard and I remember almost having an orgasm when she was putting it on there.

I can't remember much more about Mexico trips, other than years earlier, when I was 8 or 9, I was having lotion applied in the hotel room when a housekeeping lady came in.  My mom had no issue letting her do her thing while she continued to get me ready. I wasn't as modest at that age of course, but it was still one of those jarring moments when someone intruded and it felt embarrassing.