"Aren't you going to give Angeles a kiss for her birthday?" someone asked.

"I already ... sure, why not?" For the first time since we had entered the room I noticed Angeles; her pajama top was unbuttoned and it barely covered her small breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra or anything else under her top. She walked over to me and I wrapped my arms around her. Our kiss lasted considerably longer than it did when Angeles's mother was watching.

I was just about going to brush her top to one side when she broke off the kiss. "Did you guys know that tomorrow is Mr. Pyle's birthday?" she asked.

Someone began singing "Happy birthday..." and without any further prompting everyone else joined in.

Angeles exclaimed, "I think we should all give him a kiss!"

"Hey yeah, good idea, but why don't we make it a game?" suggested Nancy. "We'll blindfold him and he has to guess who it is."

After some discussion the girls agreed to play along, but with the proviso that we were to kiss, nothing else. Talking, the use of one's hands, rubbing noses a la Inuit, or pushing one's body against the other's were all disallowed. Since it wasn't specifically prohibited, I took that to mean that the use of the tongue was permitted.

I sat at the foot of the bed and a blindfold was placed tightly around my eyes. Suddenly I felt a set of warm lips pressed against my own, but I was dumfounded when Angeles asked who it was.

"Maybe we should try another kiss," I suggested.

That idea was quickly shouted down, so I guessed Nancy since the game had been her idea. "No," she laughed.

I had no better luck with contestant numbers two, but contestant three was wearing braces so I quickly narrowed it down to one of four girls: Abigail, Lois, Bridget, or Linda. When I guessed 'Linda' the room was filled with laughter.

"This isn't much fun," said someone. "Mr. Pyle has never kissed any of us, so he'll never guess who is who. A blind person always wants to touch someone's face, and I think we should change the rules so that he can feel who it is."

I certainly liked the rules change, and the other girls agreed after it was stipulated that I had to keep my hands on the outside of their clothes. One of the girls who had kissed me earlier wanted another chance, but the rest insisted that she wait her turn, so the field was narrowed a bit when the fourth kisser moved into place.

It was easy to recognize Lois when she kissed me, since her glasses bumped against my nose. Nevertheless, I wasn't going to let her get away right away, and I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly. We made out for about two minutes before Angeles said, "Okay, you should be able to guess who she is."

"Lois!" I declared in triumph.

"How did you know?" Lois asked.

"I could feel your braces when we kissed," I said simply. I didn't want to give away all my secrets.

Chubby Abigail was next; there was no mistaking the fact that I couldn't get my arms all the way around her. "Yeah, I wear braces too, so I guess that's why you guessed," she said resignedly. Right.

No braces for contestant number three, but Jill is so much taller than the other girls that it was no contest. However, I decided to take advantage of the situation and massaged her full, round tits before I said, "There's no mistaking Jill."

Tiny seven-year-old Katie was equally easy to identify, but it occurred to me that the girls weren't going to restrict my movements so long as I kept my eyes blindfolded and my hands outside their pants. I quickly slid my hands across Katie's camisole and down to her panties, where I gently but vigorously rubbed her crotch until she started giggling. "Katie, you're not allowed to talk; come here," said Angeles.

"I didn't say anything, but it felt funny when he rubbed my vagina," said the younger girl.

"Good funny or bad funny?" asked someone else.

"Good funny!" declared the child, and everyone laughed.

With Katie's declaration, I didn't have to worry about where I touched. If I hadn't recognized Diane's long, curly hair when she kissed me, there wouldn't have been any doubt about her identity due to the tights she was wearing. I rubbed her crotch and much to my delight it felt somewhat damp. I rubbed some more, and the girl moaned as the dampness started to spread. "Foul!" shouted Angeles, who had apparently designated herself as referee. "Moaning is like giggling, and that violates the no-talking rule. Who is it?"

"I'm not sure," I said, rubbing the girl's slit again. "I'll guess it's Diane."

It's said that teachers always remember their good students and the bad, but the average students become kind of a blur as the years pass. Bridget is one of those average students: she doesn't cause many problems in class, quietly does her work, but seldom offers to answer a question. She makes steady progress in class, getting most 'Cs', an occasional 'B', or a rare 'D.' That makes her rather nondescript, and I probably won't remember her name if I see her five years from now. Similarly, her outfit was nothing special to look at, and I couldn't think of her name even though I knew who my kisser was.

The real giveaway was her shorts. While I suppose she considered the white-flowered top and matching shorts undergarments, she could have easily worn them on the street without attracting undue attention. However, the legs in her shorts were so loose that my hand accidentally slipped inside when I went to rub her crotch. It was my turn to moan when I felt soft, downy hair around her labia.

"You have to stop," said Diane. "You're not allowed to talk."

I slid my finger along the girl's slit, still trying to remember her name. Cathy? No, she hadn't come. Linda? No, she was wearing a red nightgown. "The rule is that you girls can't talk," I said. "It's okay if I do."

This was bull, but I was stalling for time. The girl's pussy lips had become engorged, and she was quite wet; if I kept this up much longer I was bound to cum in my pants.

"Look, he has his hand inside Bridget's shorts; that's definitely against the rules!" insisted Diane.

Bridget pulled back and said furiously, "You weren't supposed to say my name!"

I pulled the blindfold off and stepped between the girls. "Hey, let's not argue. We're supposed to be having fun, remember?"

"The rule says you're supposed to keep your hands OUTSIDE our clothes," complained Diane. "That wasn't fair!"

"I'm sorry; it was an accident," I said. "Bridget's shorts are very loose."

"I just think we should have the same rules for everyone," said Diane.

I agree. Take off those tights and I'll be glad to slip my hand inside your pussy.

"Okay, let's get back to the game," said Angeles. She added, "Mr. Pyle, remember that you can't put your hands inside anyone's underpants. We're still kids; we're not even teenagers..."

"I am," Jill pointed out.

"Yeah, but you're only thirteen and you're not even in high school yet," said Angeles. "It isn't like you were sixteen or in college or something. We're not ready for real sex."

There seemed to be general agreement that I had crossed the line, so I apologized. Even with this restriction I was having a good time, and I didn't want Angeles or someone else to call the game off because it was going too far.

Bridget announced that she was going to the restroom, and I heard the door slam after I was blindfolded. Then it took what seemed an eternity before the next girl approached me for a kiss.

It was easy to identify Nancy, with her lacey camisole and boy-cut briefs. I hadn't seen her breasts well before, but I knew they were nearly as well-developed as Jill's, and I squeezed them gently as my hand slipped over her top.

Due to the garter belt and nylon stockings, I had no problem identifying the next girl in my mind. Not Cathy ... Katie was Angeles's kid sister ... not Karen ... nor Candice ... Camille! I almost burst out her name, but I held back as she started rubbing the front of my pants.

"Hey, she can't..."

"We said touching was okay," Angeles reminded the other girls.

It occurred to me that no one could really see what I did with my hands once they were under Camille's skirt. She didn't complain and even seemed to encourage me when I slipped my fingers inside the gusset of her panties. Despite the fact that she was nearly a year older than the other girls, her pussy was as smooth as the day she was born. "Oh, Camille," I whispered.

"He said your name!" said Angeles. "Who's next?"

"Do you know what?" said someone. "Mr. Pyle had a chance to see our underwear, well, except for Camille's, and now look at how his pants are sticking out. I think he should take off his pants for the rest of the game."

"Take them off!" said someone.

"Take them off! Take them off!" chanted someone else.

"Take them off! Take them off! Take them off!"

I removed my blindfold and held up my hands. "Okay, okay, you win!" I said. Not that I had to have my arm twisted. "I'll take off my pants."

As I pulled my pants off I was glad that I had worn my yellow bikini briefs. Like Nancy, I didn't like the idea of being seen in plain white underwear; on the other hand, given my state of excitement, having my dick poke out of the hole in a pair of boxers would have been a bit too much.

"Look, he peed in his pants!" exclaimed one of the girls.

I stood up so everyone could see how my shorts tented out. I looked at the wet spot and said, "That isn't pee; it's called 'precum, ' and it's a kind of lubricant. You girls have really turned me on, and my penis is saying, 'I want to have sex.' Right, Dick? 'Right.'" Everyone laughed at my use of a high, squeaky voice and the talking penis until one of the Macintyre twins asked, "Are we going to get to finish playing the kissing game?"

"I'm game," I said, grabbing the blindfold. Someone tied it into place and a few seconds later I tasted strawberry-flavored lipstick. "Wow, someone's a really good kisser ... who is it? Let's see ... she's wearing some kind of a dress or skirt."

Several of the girls were wearing lipstick, so that wasn't much of a clue, but I could think of only four--Camille, Janet, Sally, and Linda--who were wearing skirts or dresses. Since Camille had already had a chance to kiss me, I disqualified her right away. Sally was wearing a necktie, but this girl wasn't. It had to be Janet or Linda. They were about the same height, and both had nicely developing breasts--as did this young lady. Also, the thin cloth seemed more of a T-shirt or a nightshirt than a regular skirt, but I was still clueless. Then I recalled that Janet was wearing full-cut briefs, while Linda's were bikini-style. I grabbed the young lady firmly by the ass, said "Open your mouth a little as we kiss," and held her tightly.

It felt as if Janet's nightshirt was covering my hand, so I boldly slipped my hand under the waistband of her panties and onto to firm, round little ass. At the same time I forced my tongue into her mouth, and she warmly responded with the most passionate kiss of the evening. "The best kisser award goes to Janet!" I declared.

This brought some applause but also some protests, presumably from the girls who hadn't had a chance to compete yet. "I'm just kidding," I said. "You're all good kissers." "Who's next?" asked Angeles.

In fact, it was Angeles herself. Since this was the third time in the evening that we kissed, perhaps I should have been able to identify her based on that and nothing else, but it was the open pajama top and the barely budding tits that gave her away. "Angeles, I know it's you," I said as I ran my fingers lightly over her left tit. Let me kiss you there too."

Without waiting for her response, I kissed the girl's tit, sucking hard on her erect nipple. Then I did the same on the other one before someone complained, "That isn't part of the game. If you want to make out, go someplace more private."

"Maybe some other time," Angeles promised. "Well, there are still four of you left."

Linda was easy to identify; I knew her nightshirt was nearly the same as Janet's, but she had braces and was wearing bikini briefs. I didn't hesitate to slip my hand inside those briefs under her nightshirt, and I just as easily brought it around to the front. The peach fuzz I felt was reminiscent of that I had felt a bit earlier, although for the life of me I couldn't remember exactly who.

"Let's pull his underpants down!" someone said.

"No, we'll get into lots of trouble," said another girl.

"Don't be ridiculous; he's the one who will get into the most trouble," said the first girl. And Linda was pushed away from me as two sets of hands yanked my briefs halfway to my knees.

"Look at how it sticks out."

"I didn't think it'd be so big."

"Actually, I thought it'd be bigger."

"He's really hairy, isn't he?"

"What are those blue lines?"

I pulled the blindfold off my face. "I hope you like what you see, girls," I said, knowing I couldn't fight them all. "Go ahead and touch it if you want. You can even kiss me there."

Buffy Macintyre said, "Not yet; we didn't get our turns to kiss you yet, did we Betty?"

Her twin agreed and added, "Sally too. But we're going to kiss you on the lips, not ... there. And you have to guess who it is, like you did for everyone else."

"If I can't tell you apart in the daylight, how do you expect me to tell you apart if I'm blindfolded?" I asked. "That's your problem," said one of the other girls.

"No, it's easy," said one of the twins. "Her nose is bigger."

"Okay, but which one are you?"

"Betty, of course."

With my dick hanging out and my shorts pulled down to my knees, I was blindfolded again. "I'm going to have to kiss both of you if I'm ever going to guess which is which," I said. Fondling two girls at once was a new experience for me, not to mention the fact that their combined ages were still a good fifteen years fewer than mine. That little bit of information however, didn't bring me any closer to discerning which girl was which, nor did all kinds of measurements involving their noses.

Then I recalled that I had seen some wispy pubic hairs beneath Betty's thong, but not beneath Buffy's. It was unfathomable that twin girls who were so exactly alike would be different in this most intimate and personal way, yet there seemed to exist the possibility that one girl had actually reached puberty while the other hadn't. A much more likely explanation was that I simply hadn't seen Buffy's pubes, even though they existed.

"Excuse me; I just have to do this," I said as I reached inside one of the girl's panties. She was bald! Just to make sure I reached into the other girl's panties. As I had thought, she had a small bush. "This is Betty, but the other one is Buffy!" I exclaimed as I pulled my blindfold off for the umpteenth time.

"How did you know?" asked Betty.

"You're older," I said slyly.

"Really, how did you know?" asked Buffy.

"I suddenly remembered that your pussy doesn't have any hair on it, but Betty's does," I explained. "It was simple."

Buffy looked at her twin. "You're wearing a thong but you didn't shave? That's gross!"

"How was I supposed to know that Mr. Pyle would be looking at us and everything?" asked Betty. "Besides, you spent so much time in the bathroom I didn't get a chance to shave."

"Don't blame me..."

"Girls, girls ... don't fight ... now what?" I asked. "Sally?"

Sally was simpering. "I know I'm supposed to go next, but I can't ... I don't want to," she said.

I pulled my briefs up. I felt like a fool standing there with my shorts around my knees, and there was no way I was going to hobble over to her that way. "That's okay, honey; it's just a game we've been playing. If you don't want to kiss me, that's okay, nobody's going to make you."

"It's not that I don't want to; I can't," she said.

"What do you mean? Why can't you?"

"I could kiss you Mr. Pyle, but you can't feel me ... like you were feeling the other girls," she said.

"Okay, if that's the way you feel about it," I kissed her on the forehead to show that I had no hard feelings. "Whatever you want."

"It isn't what I want..."

"I don't understand what you're trying to say," I confessed.

"I ... I'm having my period," she said. "That's why I didn't get undressed like everyone else.

"You're having your period?" asked Abigail. "I am too; that's why I didn't take my pants all the way off."

Thank god.

"Okay... I think this is a little more than I wanted to know," I said. "And I guess all of you have had a chance to kiss me for my birthday,"

"How do you feel?" asked Linda.

"Great!" I answered truthfully.

"Horny?" she asked. "Don't you want to jerk off?"

"Heh, heh, I kind of was planning to stop in the restroom before I left," I admitted sheepishly.

"Can we watch?" she asked.

"What are they talking about?" I heard Bridget ask Angeles.

"Yeah, we want to watch you jerk off," said Angeles.

"Jerk off! Jerk off! Jerk off!" chanted the others.

Talking about it one thing, but actually whacking it in front of an audience ... a female audience...

"You've confessed that you like to do it, and we've already seen your thing ... your penis ... even the precum ... so we know you want to," insisted Linda. "We won't tell anybody, will we girls?"

It suddenly dawned on me that I had subconsciously stuck my hand down my pants, and I knew it wouldn't take much to send me over the edge. It seemed that all the girls wanted me to do it, and it appeared that each one had just solemnly promised not to mention it to anyone. I had my doubts about their keeping that promise, but just then something hit me in the face.

I looked; it was Jill's bra. Looking up, she was standing about two feet away with her back to me. "I'll turn around if I can watch."

I stood up and pulled my shorts down; my cockhead was wet with precum. Jill turned around and I stroked.

"Hey, I have a better idea," said Angeles. "Poor Sally; she's the only one who didn't get a chance to play before. I know masturbating is supposed to be just you, but can she hold you or something? That is, if she wants to."

All eyes turned toward Sally. "I don't know how," she said.

"That's okay, I'll teach you. Just grab my dick."

The girl grabbed my cock with her small hand. I placed mine over it and pumped all of four times before my semen shot out like a rocket. The first spurt splattered on Jill's leg just above the knee; the second landed on Linda's thigh, while the rest dribbled onto Sally's and my hands.

"Ooh." "Ah." "Cool."

"What am I supposed to do now?" asked Sally.

"I guess you could get some tissue and clean it up with that, although the easiest thing is to simply lick it off your fingers," I suggested.

She took me up on my advice, but in the next minute she cried out, "Ick! That stuff's awful. It's real salty." She ran into the bathroom and I could hear her spitting the semen out.

"It isn't very good, but I could get used to it," said Linda quietly.

There was a knock on the door. "Are you going to watch that movie you said you wanted to see on TV?" asked a woman's voice. "It's going to start in about fifteen minutes."

"Okay Mom, we'll be right there," Angeles said in a loud voice.

"Mr. Pyle, do you think I could get some extra tutoring at lunch time on Monday?" asked Nancy.

"Me too!" exclaimed Bridget.

"No, I've got him on Monday; you'll have to do it on Tuesday or something," insisted Nancy.

"I'll try to remember; Nancy on Monday, and Bridget on Tuesday," I smiled.