?Rudies?

That dry-mouthed thrill of excitement…..the racing pulse….the tightness in my emergent boobs and the tingle between my legs. 

And it didn’t take much to set it off either. A throw away rude remark from a friend while sitting, cross-legged on the school field at lunchtime, our stupid kilts hitched up irreverently high over our thighs, exposing our panty crotches and, from one of us “My cunt’s really wet today.” The “C” word! Thrilling in and of itself! Thrilling even when just thought, but oh, how much more-so when actually said?! 

We all, we happy few, we band of sisters, knew what it was to have a “wet cunt”. Whether spontaneous, or brought on by early, tentative efforts at masturbation, oh yes, we knew what a we cunt felt like, and what is heralded. 

Now and then, after a quick furtive glance round to ascertain the position of the staff, one of us might reach between our legs and tug a panty crotches aside to “let some air get round it”, but we all really knew….this was a “rudie”, a deliberate flash. For most of the group it was just that and nothing more, but for me it was sight of another girl’s vagina, in which I had a personal, sexual interest, although it would make me excited, it was nothing compared to what it would become…still….useful material for the Anna wank bank.

But like all things, ‘rudies’ developed…the bravest of us doing more, like going commando….or…..shock-horror…..peeing onto the grass of the playing field. (NB….NEVER to be done in cold weather unless you want people to wonder why you’re suddenly enveloped in a cloud of steam!) 

And let’s not leave conversations out of the Rudies, because, believe me, they could be rude! A description (even if somewhat enhanced) of a wank, or the sharing of a girls first unmistakable orgasm. (Any girl who thinks she has cum hasn’t, trust me. When the real deal hits, it’s unmistakable.) And sometimes scary. 

Jenny described hers. “I was just lying in bed, you know, not thinking of anything in particular, just gently diddling my clit. I felt this tremendous rush and it hit me like a fucking train wreck. Once it started it didn’t matter if I stopped touching myself…it just….well….fuck me! I think I blacked out, or fainted, or something. I do remember this…..convulsing….you know…..inside. Regular…bam…bam…bam…and it seemed to (leans in and whispers) affect my bumhole too…you know. Like when you nip a poo off….but regular.” 

Rudies developed though. Not content just to do them on the school field at lunchtime, they extended to going commando all day. We wore little enamel lapel badges which, on commando days, we swap pe to the left lapel as a sign. That mad us smile. The priests were always rattling on about “an outward sign of an inner grace,” This was our outward sign of our growing depravity. 

But we soon realised walking too and from school held opportunities too. We could, and did, stop off in an old, disused flint barn for a cheeky wank, either alone or with a BFF. I did my secret panty peeing in that old barn too….and demonstrated that particular Rudies to a friend. 

As I’ve said before, sex is a series of opposites…of contradictions. While a “good girl” will keep her knees together, that same good girl when she’s doing something sexual will spread those knees wide. A good girl would never pee her panties, but that same good girl will, if she’s after a naughty thrill. 

Going bra-less was also a ‘thing’….more for some of us than others. While our kilts were made out of the heaviest wool imaginable, our school shirts were ridiculously thin. Bras could be plainly seen through them….as could bralessness….especially if the girl concerned had dark areoles. What I lacked in size I more than made up for in this regard, and also possessing a pair of long nipples didn’t help…or rather, did! Watching a priest or a monk try desperately not to stare at your tits is great fun….especially if you’re giving them a semi in the process. 

We had old,priests and monks, sure, but now and then we had younger ones….especially priests who were sent to our parish straight from seminary,, presumably as some kind of priestly finishing school. When one of those rocked up, we would take turns in seeing how visible-an erection we could give them….and yes, confession wasn’t exempt from the Rudies either. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. I have sinful thoughts….sexual thoughts, Father….and sometimes, I touch myself.” With practice you can get into the grim detail before a strangulated voice stops you. “I put my hand in my panties father and…” “Yes, my child, that’s quite enough.” Now and then there’s a muffled “Oh God” and you wonder…maybe…just maybe…..

Adolescence is all part of flexing our sexual muscles….like a baby bird in the nest will pretend to fly by flapping its wings, so we explored words and actions tat triggered naughty feelings in ourselves. 

I know without doubt that all of my close friends masturbated in the school bathrooms from time to time. Some of us (me) even acquired the art of getting ourselves off in class. (Perhaps I got something from double Latin last thing Ona Friday after all.) 

I’ll have a chat to some friends and see if I can get their detail on the subject.