Taboo Heat: Tales Too Hot To Handle
Nobody in this story has any sort of sexual thoughts or activities of any kind until they magically become eighteen.
Jill and I stood on a grass volleyball court under a blue sky streaked with shreds of clouds. This was the opening ceremony for Seven Palms naturalist campground. A light, almost hot, breeze drifted through the group of about two hundred people, all without clothing, talking, joking. Old friends reacquainted; new friends being made. We were long-time members, along with my parents and Jill's brother and sister. The six of us meet here at least once a year.
Jill squeezed my hand.