Candy Floss

Candy was enjoying her basic nursing skills course.  The afternoon promised to be very interesting, concentrating on the examination of the female upper body.  However disappointment was about to strike the members of the class as the redoubtable Mr Trevithick, the course tutor, announced that he had been unable to find a patient volunteer willing to undergo the rigours of being examined by twenty nursing students, among whom were to be numbered, in this egalitarian age, a number of men.

Candy was crestfallen, but then a bright idea struck her, like an electric light going off in her head.  Tammy knew the signs.  She had known Candy long enough to recognise the signs.

“Ca…” she started to say, but even then she knew it was too late.  Candy had already pulled her jumper up and was displaying two perfectly formed ladies’ bosoms to the delighted audience.

“You can demonstrate on me, “she announced, “I don’t mind”

Mr Trevithick opened his mouth.  He didn’t quite know what to say.  It was highly irregular.  On the other hand she had volunteered, with no prompting, and the students did need to be taught.  He just stood speechless, his mouth open.

“Good!  That’s settled then!” said Candy taking her jumper right off and sticking out her chest.

Poor Mr Trevithick didn’t even know how to say no.

“It’s er... Candida isn’t it?” he enquired, “you er... don’t mind?”

“Oh no!” said Candy, “I’d love to.”

Tammy sighed.  Candy was incorrigible!  How embarrassing for poor Mr Trevithick.  He quite clearly didn’t quite know what to do.  In the end he plodded nervously on.

“The f..female b..breast,” stammered.  He did tend to stammer when nervous, “is variable in size.  F..from the f..fairly small to the…” and he looked at Candy’s impressive dimensions, “to the yes… er very big.  This pair are well… yes… very big, but quite firm not requiring any er… as you see er… artificial support.”

Candy grinned at the audience. 

“Oh!” admitted Candy, not at all embarrassed, “I forgot to put my bra on today.  I’m always doing that.  Sometimes I forget my knickers as well”

“Oh, er… yes,” Mr Trevithick stammered on.  What was she going to be volunteering to demonstrate next!

“Er,,, around the nipple we can see the circle of darker skin known as the areola…”

“Oooh!  I always wanted to know what that was,” said Candy examining her own anatomy almost as closely as the men (and indeed some of the girls) in the audience, “I just thought they were my titties”

Tammy closed her eyes.  Candy really was incorrigible.  It was going to be a long afternoon…

That evening they were going to the fair that was held annually on the common.  There’d be rides and sideshows, and the ghost train and of course candyfloss.  Candy loved candyfloss.

“Tammy!  Tammy!” shouted Candy as they were getting ready to go, “can I wear my little short skirt?”

Tammy didn’t know why Candy always asked this question.  She never wore anything but a little short skirt.  The only problem came when she forgot her knickers.

“Wear any pair you like,” she shouted, “but don’t forget your knickers!  Or your bra!”

“As if I would!” expostulated Candy.

Tammy shook her head.  Candy was always forgetting to put her knickers on.  She went and got them out for her.

“Now put them on!” she said, “and don’t disgrace yourself again!”

They set off to the funfair, the sound of the music from the mighty Wurlitzer already drifting across the night air.

“You’re sure you’ve got your knickers on!” said Tammy.

“Of course,” said Candy, lifting up her skirt and showing everyone her knickers.

“Candy!  Put your skirt down, you can’t show everyone your knickers in the street!”

“Why not?”

“People don’t want to see your knickers!”

“Well, if they don’t want to see my knickers, why do they keep looking at them?”

Tammy shook her head.  Incorrigible!

“Tammy!  Tammy” shouted Candy as the Number 57 bus dropped them at the fair, “can we go in the Haunted House.”

“If you must,” sighed Tammy.  It wasn’t her idea of the most exciting thing in the fair.

“Tammy!  Tammy!” shouted Candy as they reached the head of the queue, “can we have some candyfloss!”

Candy loved candyfloss.

“You just queue here, and don’t go in without me,” replied Tammy going off in search of the candyfloss man.

But of course Candy couldn’t wait, even as Tammy returned bearing the two sticks of sticky sweet nothing Candy was going in through the door.  Of course that was where the first little bit of fun for the lookers-on was.  As the girls passed in through the door there was a little turnstile and under the turnstile was a grating with a fan underneath.  The man taking the money at the door could press a little button and blow air up through the grating lifting up the skirts of the girls passing through.  All good clean fun, especially when he locked the turnstile with the girl stuck in it and left her knickers on display for a while.

Tammy could hear her shouting as she came back.

“Tammy!  Tammy!” my skirts blowing up and I can’t get through.  Candy’s knickers had attracted an appreciative little crowd and Tammy was glad she’d reminded Candy to put them on.  At least Candy hadn’t disgraced herself.

She paid her money and stepped into the turnstile still holding the candyfloss. Somehow she hadn’t expected that she too would be subject to the sudden updraught, but suddenly the wind was whistling up her skirt and revealing everything underneath.  Even worse, her hands were occupied holding the candyfloss and she could do nothing to hold her skirt down.

“Tammy!  Tammy!” shouted Candy horrified, “you forgot to put your knickers on!”

And poor Tammy realised that Candy was right, she could feel the air blowing freely over her unprotected nether regions, now on full display to the assembled crowd.  The man on the door grinned.  Every now and then he caught a girl with no knickers on.  It was good for business.  He pressed a button and locked the turnstile.  Tammy was trapped displaying her naughties, as Candy would have called them, to the assembled multitude.

“Tammy! Tammy!” cried Candy, “Are you disgracing yourself?  Everybody can see your…” but fortunately her words were drowned up by a blast of music from the mighty Wurlitzer.  Tammy was all too aware of what everybody could see.

“Take the candyfloss, Candy,” she yelled desperately, at least then she could hold her skirt down.

“It’s all right,” said Candy, “I’m not hungry now!”

“Candy!” shouted Tammy, her skirt still up round her waist, the wind whistling up between her legs, “just take it!”

“But I’m not hungry,” said Candy, truly puzzled.  Poor Tammy getting more and more embarrassed decided to try clambering over the turnstile.  This was not a good idea.  With the candyfloss in both hands and her skirt blowing up it was not easy.   She got half the way over when she felt herself losing her balance.  For some bizarre reason her principle object when she fell was to save Candy’s candyfloss.  As she went arse over tip onto the floor her skirt caught in the turnstile.  There was a loud ripping noise and off it came.  Poor Tammy was left naked from the waist down.  But she was still holding the candyfloss.

“Tammy!  Tammy!” shouted Candy, “you’ve got no knickers on!”

“Well give me your skirt.  Everybody can see my…” shouted Tammy, and fortunately her words were drowned by a blast from the mighty Wurlitzer.

Candy rushed across, pulled off her skirt and gave it to Tammy.  She was so pleased she had remembered her knickers.. 

“What shall I do with the candyfloss,” asked Tammy.

“You carry it,” said Candy rushing off to the next room in her excitement.

The haunted house was full of little traps for the unwary or the unlucky.  The next door they went through dowsed the unlucky visitor with a bucket of water from above the door.  Candy was lucky and got through safely, but poor Tammy was soaked.

“Tammy!  Tammy!” shouted Candy, “you forgot to put your bra on!”

Tammy looked down, her nipples, proud and erect were clearly visible through the material of her wet tee shirt. Oh No!  She’d been so intent on making sure that Candy had put her bra on, that she had completely forgotten about her own.

The wet tee shirt clung to her accentuating the outline of her breasts as she tried to pull it down to cover her bottom while still holding on to the candyfloss.  Why was this happening to her?  This was the sort of thing that happened to Candy.  She just wanted to go home.  She wanted Candy to get her out of the house.

“Candy!  Candy!” she shouted, “Get me out of this!”

Candy saw immediately saw what she wanted.  There was poor Tammy shivering a wet tee shirt and skirt.  She wanted help to get herself out of the wet tee shirt.

Tammy saw Candy coming to her and smiled.  Good old Candy, always a support in times of trouble.  But…  Oh No!

“Candy!  Candy!” she shouted, as she found her tee shirt grabbed and pulled unceremoniously over her head squashing the candyfloss into Tammy’s face. A struggle ensued as Tammy, restricted by two bunches of candyfloss in her face tried vainly to keep her tee shirt on and Candy redoubled her efforts to remove it.  The bystanders looked on in evident interest.  It wasn’t often the funfair put on a show like this.

Eventually Candy emerged holding the tee shirt triumphantly.  How pleased Tammy would be.

But Tammy was not pleased.

“I didn’t mean that!” she shouted.

Suddenly Candy realised her mistake.  Tammy wanted her wet skirt removing.  Quickly she grabbed it and pulled it off.

Poor Tammy stood there stark naked, her face covered in candyfloss, trying vainly to remove the sticky goo from her still proud nipples.

The bystanders applauded. Candy grinned.  She always liked to see Tammy in the nude.

“Oh My God!,” said Tammy, “it’s got into my…” but fortunately a blast from the mighty Wurlitzer drowned out her last word.