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(c) 2019, by P.D. Vile<br />
'''Note to the reader:''' his is part 1 of an 8-part story. The story codes above apply to the entire story. I plan to post one part every Thursday and Monday.<br />
In case you are interested, the story title is a reference to an actual game that was played on Dutch radio in the '70s and '80s. I took some liberty when translating the name of the game to ensure that the wordplay that is center to the plot idea still works. The original Dutch radio show, and game, was called: “Raad een lied, of niet” (guess a song, or not). And it was every bit as boring as the title suggest.<br />
== Guess That Hit, part 1: Six girls ==
== Guess That Hit, part 1: Six girls ==


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“Okay then,” I said. I took a deep breath. “Who's first?”<br />
“Okay then,” I said. I took a deep breath. “Who's first?”<br />
Continue to: [[Guess That Hit/Part 2|Part 2: Let's play!]] >> | << Return to: [[Guess That Hit|Table Of Contents]] << [[User:P.D.Vile|P.D. Vile's stories]]


[[Category:Guess That Hit]]
[[Category:Guess That Hit]]

Revision as of 18:19, 24 July 2023

Guess That Hit, part 1: Six girls

As Cindy finished tying the knot in my blindfold, I heard the sound of numerous shirts being doffed and trainer bras being unclipped around me. Was this really going to happen?
As the girls were undressing in preparation for our game, I recalled how all this started, less than three hours ago.

As I parked my car on Mel and Bill's driveway, my sister already came out of the house to greet me with the sisterly hug that only she could give.
“Hi Dave! Glad you could make it,” she said; then raised her voice to yell: “Girls! Uncle Dave is here, come greet him!”

I was surprised not to be greeted with the usual cheers. Being single and childless myself, my nieces were excellent stand-ins, and Mel often teased my that I spoiled her kids even more than our parents did.
And she probably was right. Both girls always loved my visits, so I was unpleasantly surprised to see Cindy's skulking face. Grace followed and appeared to be in conflict between her normal childish love for me and her loyalty to her big sister.
“What's up, Cin? I've never before seen you so sad. Are you not happy to see me?”
“Mom told me I need to cancel on my sleepover because she has to go out,” she pouted. “It's not fair. I planned this weeks ago.”

I was at Mel's place because she wanted me to watch the girls for the night. An emergency had come up at Bill's work and the only chance they had at retaining one of their biggest customers was to treat them to a night at the theater, with partners. This was not the first time, nor would it be the last.
Bill's job paid very well, but it came at a price. His boss expected him to deliver, whatever the cost to his personal life.

I turned to Melody.
“You didn't mention ...,” I began but she interrupted me.
“Yeah, it's true. Cindy had planned a sleepover with some friends. I had forgotten about it when I called and you were already on your way when I called again.”
I looked at my phone and did notice two missed calls.
“I didn't want to spring it on you so I told Cindy to call it off.”
I paused to briefly consider the options, then asked: “Are you only doing this on my behalf, or are you yourself concerned about having her friends here without Bill or you present? Because if it's only for me, then I see no need to cancel. They'll probably be busy in Cindy's room anyway, doing whatever girls of that age do, and I'll have some time to play with Grace. Or I'll watch the telly if Grace wants to join the other girls or be in her own room.”

I realized too late that I should have kept my voice low. Cindy had overheard what I said and she was already jumping up and down for joy
Mel caved. “You really spoil them rotten,” she sighed, “but it's your problem now. I was indeed trying to protect you, but if you think you can handle it, be my guest. You'll probably regret your offer once the girls get bored of their normal stuff and start nagging you.”

Melody left shortly after to join Bill in town, after telling me to not expect them home before midnight.
The doorbell rang and the guests started pouring in. Cindy made the introductions.
“Girls, this is Uncle Dave. Mum had to go and he is here to watch Grace and to make sure we don't burn down the house. Don't worry, he may be old but he's actually quite cool. Uncle Dave, these are my best friends. Rhonda is a year older than me, she is already 13. Hannah and Ally, the twins, are 12. Savannah is only 11 but she is also in my class because she skipped a class, she is way smart!”
I looked the girls over while working hard on memorizing their names.

Rhonda appeared to be of mixed racial background. Her skin had the delicious color of milk chocolate. Only 13? She looked older. I would have estimated her 15 or 16 or so, and to be honest that was mostly based on her chest size – she was incredibly well built for her age and I think that even some of the girl friends I've had would be jealous of her breasts.
Her round face sported dark blue eyes, a slightly oversize nose, lips painted bright red; all framed in shoulder length curly brown hairs. She wore a blue crop top that left her entire belly exposed: I saw a tight belly with no hint of excess fat at all. Below that was a short skirt, bright yellow which drew even more attention to the glorious color of her beautiful skin.

Savannah, the smart 11 year old, appeared to be of Afro-American origin, given the deep brown skin and the short black curly hairs. She was skinny; I briefly wondered if that was genetic or if she was underfed. But I had already seen the supply of coke and chips so I was not worried too much about anyone going hungry tonight.
My attention was drawn to Savannah's eyes. They were dark brown, almost black, but there was something mysterious about them, a depth that I was unable to gauge. I forced myself to look away. This was not my mystery to solve.
I checked the rest of her looks. White loose fitting strapless shirt, pink shorts that extended to just above the knee. The skin on her arms and legs was smooth, apart from a few scratches on her calves.

I finally turned my attention to Hannah and Ally. Twins, no doubt. Identical twins. One of them, Hannah if I recalled correctly, was dressed in a summer dress. A sleeveless white top as the bodice; white and blue horizontal bars from the hips down to the hem, just below the knees.
The other twin wore far less conservative clothes: a very tight T-shirt that hugged her body like a second skin and ended just above the navel, and cut-off jeans that, if any shorter, would have been called a belt. I secretly hoped she would turn, for I'm sure that it revealed more of her ass than was proper. As much as I hate to admit it, I enjoy looking at young girls' bodies. And what this girls was wearing exposed a lot of young girl body!

I took my time to examine the twins. Not because of Ally's provocative clothes (well, not only because of that), but because I was trying to find a way to keep the girls apart.
I studied their faces in great detail. Pug nose, blue eyes, high cheekbones, small lips, charming smiles, blond hair that extended down to the hips on Ally, and similar length but worn in ponytails on Hannah. Both just a tiny bit on the plump side. It was really hard to find a difference.
“Uncle Dave, what are you doing? You are freaking them out. And me too!”
“Sorry Cin, you are right, I should not stare like that, at least not without explanation. I was trying to see how I can tell them apart. The left one was Ally, right?”
“Yeah I am. But in case you didn't notice, we don't exactly wear the same clothes. Can't be that hard to see the difference!”

I chuckled. “Yeah, but I bet you'll be wearing something different tomorrow and then I'll impress Cindy's mom and dad by telling you apart.”
“Well, good luck with that,” Hannah piped in, “stare all you want, you won't find a difference. Even our grandparents confuse us.”
“Oh, I don't need to stare anymore. I have seen what I need. You seem to have spent a bit more time in the sun, since your tan is a bit darker. Ally must have recently bumped into something, I see the remnants of what was a bruise on her left forearm. And you have a very small bite out of your left ear lobe. That's the only permanent difference I could find.”
I noticed how the other girls were now also inspecting the twins to try if they could see this as well. They clearly felt uncomfortable being under such scrutiny so I stopped it:
“Sorry, leftover from an old job as security guard, I'm trained to observe even the smallest details,” I explained, “and you can't unlearn that. Cindy, don't forget to take snacks and drinks with you when you go to your room!”
As the girls turned to leave, I did manage to sneak a peak at Ally from behind. As expected, her cut-off jeans exposed part of her buttocks. Jeez, if a girl can have such an ass at 12, how will she look once she grows up?

I spent the next two hours on the couch with Grace. She was enjoying Frozen (again), while I was enjoying the feeling of her warm body leaning into my left side.
When the movie ended she asked to play Go Fish, and just as I was shuffling the cards, Cindy entered the room.
“Out of coke and crisps already?” I asked.
“No, bored. We were watching PewDiePie but the internet went out again. Happens almost every day. The router needs a reset, but I don't know the password. Can you ask mom or dad?”
“Sorry, Cin, but your mom and dad are at the theater so their phones are off. I can text them so they'll reply after the show, but that will be at least another two hours.”
“Can you make your phone into a hotspot then?”
“Not for watching YouTube, I won't! My data bundle isn't big enough for that. Why don't you use your own phones?”
“Same problem, Uncle. No bundle. Now how are we supposed to spend the rest of the night? We can't watch Netflix or Twitch, we can't play Fortnite, heck even Spotify doesn't work anymore. Everything fun needs internet!”
She paused, then looked at me. “Uncle Dave, you are old! You didn't have internet when you were young, right? What kind of stuff did you do when you were young?”

Less than a minute later, I found myself surrounded by six girls, all expecting me to make the evening fun. I quickly found out that there were no board games at all in the house, and just a single deck of standard playing cards. And none of the card games I remembered were to the liking of my critical audience. Playing outside was not an option after eight in this neighborhood, and the girls were definitely too old for playing tag and its many variations.
I tried hard to think of times I'd had fun with friends when I had nothing available … but that requirement brought me to my days of going to college, spending what little money I had on beers and booze while chatting with friends and playing games such as Never Have I Ever, or Truth Or Dare. I didn't dare to propose that. The girls were way too young for all the questions and dares I remembered, and the shots that are part of the rules that I know are not exactly a great idea either.

But these ideas did put me on the track of games with questions and answers. After pondering some more, I remembered an old radio game show. Looking back on it, it was really rather boring; but perhaps I could make it work.
“Okay girls, how about this. When I was seven I sometimes listened to a radio game show called 'Guess That Hit!'. Maybe we can play that?”

Before I even had a chance to explain, Savannah yelled, “WHAT? How did they ever allow that on national radio? And why were you allowed to listen as a seven year boy? That's insane!”
“Uhm, I don't know what you mean,” I responded, “I don't see anything weird in that. It's just a game where listeners try to guess a song from a cryptic description”.
“Huh? Then why name it after tits?”
At that point, Ally intervened: “Uhm, Sav, I think you misheard. Dave said 'Guess that HIT', not 'Guess that TIT'.”
Rhonda laughed: “Somehow I think that Savanna's version would be much more popular with the guys!”
And then all girls erupted with laughter and giggles. Forgotten was the failing internet. Forgotten was the lack of fun. All of them started sprouting their taboo ideas for the new, naughty game they just invented.

“It should totally be a TV show, not radio”
“Yeah, but on cable, you can't show titties on network”
“Show?”
“Of course, you can't guess tits without showing them”
“So how would that go? Show tits of celebs and then have someone guess who it is?”
“Nah, no celeb will want to do that!”
“But how would you guess a tit from an unknown woman?”
“Maybe show some women first, then match tittie pics to the right woman?”
“Oh wait, I've got it. Don't show. Feel.”
“Feel?”
“Get a candidate in the studio to touch a bunch of boobs and have him guess which girl they belong to”
“But he can just see who he's feeling up!”
“No stupid, the girls is behind a wall and there are holes at tit-height that he can feel through”
“And that would then be broadcast on TV? Who would want to be in that show?”

I couldn't resist adding my two cents:
“Oh, I think the guys will be lining up to get a chance to feel some boobies, televised or not. But finding the women will be hard. Perhaps they could hire some porn stars?”
And then, after a short silence, came the surprise of the evening.
Ally said, thoughtfully, “I think that there will be volunteers for the women too. If they choose good looking guys, I wouldn't mind them feeling me up a little.”
A deafening silence followed this statement, interrupted after a second or two by Ally quickly adding, “once I'm adult, of course!”

And then the dam broke for another tsunami of girl remarks. I felt that I was not supposed to be here, this was the type of girl talk no man should hear. But they either had forgotten about me, or just didn't care. And frankly, I quite enjoyed eavesdropping on their weird train of thoughts.

“Yeah right, 'when I'm grown up', I'm sure you'd do it right now.”
“I've seen you look at Bobby, if he plays you'd be first in line”
“Oh yes, he can touch my tiddies anytime!”
“You'd have to beat me to it!”
“Yeah, but on TV?”
“Hey, I'd be behind a cardboard, it's not like everyone can see it's me! Plus … Bobby!”
“Perhaps I'd even be on the show more than once. To see if other men's hands feel different on my boobs”
“Different men? You mean someone already fondled your boobs?”
“No, I meant ...”

Then Grace piped up. “I wish I had tits already”.
Oops. I just realized. Innocent 8 year old Grace was still here. I had forgotten about her, and now she had heard all of this. Innocence gone, under my watch! But her next words showed she was less innocent than I thought: “I'd play as soon as I have any, just touching my own nips already feels so nice!”
Grace was touching her … And it felt … Oh gosh, that was an image I should not have allowed to form in my brain.

“I bet there's some creepy perv out there who'd love to touch your nips now already, sis,” Cindy comforted, “but not on TV, not even on network. It would be child porn.”
“Indeed,” I confirmed, “and that goes for all of you. So even if such a show would ever happen, and I don't think it will, none of you can be there until you're 18.”
I hoped that this was enough to steer the conversation in another direction. As much as I enjoyed being privy to what felt like very private girl talk, I figured that it'd be smarter to stop it and try to get the conversation back on a more innocent area.
“So, are you girls up for a game of Guess That Hit?”

The lack of enthusiasm couldn't have been clearer.
“Nah, lame,” Savannah commented.
Even Grace, who normally loved every idea of her favorite uncle, backed the girls on this.
“But we're still bored,” Ally complained. And then she flabbergasted me by proposing: “But as I said before, Guess That Tit sounds like much more fun. Why don't we just play it here? No cameras, so it's not child porn!”
I was too surprised by this sudden twist of events to respond, and by the time I realized I really should stop this short, the girls were already huddled together and discussing the rules. I tried to intervene but I don't think they even heard me anymore. They were too busy discussing the idea.

“Which one of us should be guessing?”
“Can't we get Bobby here?”
“No silly, it's just us.”
“I think it's more fun with a boy.”
“Uncle Dave is a boy. Or, well, a man, a big boy.”
I couldn't believe my ears. Especially when I realized it was Grace, innocent eight year old Grace, to put my name forward.
“Yeah, Dave can be the guesser”
“But I don't want Dave fondling and caressing my boobs! Eeewww.”
“Wouldn't that be pedo then?”
“It's not fondling and caressing, it's just feeling to try to guess. That's not even real sex!”
“And if it's not real sex, then it's not pedo. It's just a silly game!”
“Ha! I think you just said that you'd love to feel a man's hand on your boobs.”

Since nobody listened to me, I shut my mouth and tried to gauge the atmosphere. Ally was all for it, no surprise since it was her proposal. Rhonda was the next biggest supporter. Cindy seemed to have doubts at first, but warmed up to the idea after Grace mentioned me.
That surprised me. I knew both girls had a serious crush on me, but I had always seen that as innocent puppy love for a favorite uncle. Not … this.
Savannah seemed rather indifferent to the idea, she didn't push for it but didn't object either. Grace … well, I wasn't sure if she really understood what it was about, she mainly appeared to be excited that the big girls hadn't kicked her out of their circle yet.

The only one who really objected was Hannah. But she didn't want to be the spoilsport and gradually dropped her objections.
“Okay, I guess it can be fun to see how many Dave can guess, and you are right that it's not really sex but more like an examination, like the doctor.”
And then the girls finally had attention for me.
“Dave,” Ally asked ceremoniously, “do you want to play Guess That Tit with us?”

Up until that moment, I had managed to remain detached. I was the supervisor, concerned about making sure that the girls had a good time and were safe. Even as they were discussing me as a candidate, I had not actually realized that this question would come. And now it was there, on the table, and I was not prepared.

“Uhhh,” I stammered, “uhhmm, well. Listen, I really don't think it's a good idea. It wouldn't be appropriate, and ...”
I was interrupted by Rhonda: “Wait, let us explain first. You think it's bad to touch us there because we are too young. But that is sex touching. This is just for a game. It is not sex. It's just for fun, so we are not bored anymore.”
“And we won't tell,” Savannah added. “Other people wouldn't understand it's a game. They would say you are sexing us. So we will all make a pinky promise to never tell anyone.”

I know I shouldn't have. I know it was wrong. But there's only so much temptation a man can resist.
I have been fighting my desires for young girls my entire adult life. And now, six of them presented themselves to me, on a silver platter. I know I should have refused. But my subconscious worked overtime to convince my conscious mind.
What she says, it's not really sex … Otherwise they'll be bored and I don't want them bored for two more hours …. I'm not forcing them, they want it, they are almost forcing me … They made a pinky promise, nobody will ever know.
Eventually, I caved. “Okay, if all of you REALLY want this,” I looked Hannah right in the eyes, but not a trace of her earlier doubt was left, “I'll play along. How exactly would the game go?”

Ally was clearly prepared for that question. Without giving the others time to respond, she immediately said: “There's no wall with holes here, so we'll use a blindfold. Each of us gets a number, 1 to 5. You call a number and that girl steps in front of you and puts your hands on her tits so you can feel them. And then you try to guess who that is.”
“Five?” I asked.
“Yeah, Grace of course can't play.”
“Hey, that's no fair!” Grace piped up.
“Sorry, but with your flat chest Dave would guess you immediately.”
Grace defiantly looked Rhonda over, making a huge show as she stared very deliberately and intently at her chest.
“Yeah, and you think your melons are any harder to guess?”
I could see Rhonda didn't like Grace's choice of words, but the other girls laughed and Ally said: “She has a point, Rhonda.”
“Okay,” Rhonda admitted grudgingly, “whatever. Grace, if you want to play, you can. But don't chicken out on us, you'll have to follow through and allow your uncle to touch and feel your chest. No backing out!”
Grace just beamed and nodded.

By now, the smarter part of my brain was winning again, and looking for ways to stop this.
Just backing out was not an option. Probably the most important house rule Dave and Mel had was that promises were never broken. In their house, I was bound by that rule – not that I wanted it any other way, as I think it's a very good rule. So I could not back down after saying yes. But I could try to make the girls back out.
I pretended to just realize something: “Hey girls, did you consider that I'll have to see your tits first if we do this?”
“What?” Hannah exclaimed, unconsciously moving her hands to cover her chest even though she was still fully dressed. “No way, I am not going to let any creep look at my boobs!”
“Hey, I'm not a creep!” I objected. “You girls asked, no almost pushed me to play your game. And you can't expect me to guess tits that I have never seen!”

I noticed that Savannah was getting second thoughts, and Cindy too looked conflicted between two thoughts. The smart part of my brain was happy to see that my plan appeared to work, while the more hormonal part of my brain was cursing myself.
But then Rhonda chimed in: “No, Dave, seeing them would make it too easy. As Grace pointed out, my 'melons'”, (she clearly was not over it yet), “are easy anyway, as are her non-boobs. That leaves only four that are not giveaways. There has to be some challenge! You can look at us with our clothes on, but that's it!”

I could have brought up the set of identical twins. But my goal was not to get them to expose their breasts to me. My goal was to get them to back off. And after Rhonda's interjection, I saw on the girls' faces that it failed.
There still was a chance that they'd back out once push came to shove, but for now I had no choice but to follow through. And to be honest, an ever larger part of my brain was relieved that my plan had failed...

“Okay girls,” I commanded, “line up. You've heard Rhonda, I will need to take a closer look at your chest than I would normally do.”
Cindy left the room to search for something she could use as a blindfold as the other girls got in line.

Savannah was first. Based on her skinny build, I expected little to no development. And though her clothes were too loose to see her actual breast shape, I did notice that her shirt protruded at least an inch or so from her chest. So either she wore a bra with stuffing, or she had started to develop.
I figured a girl of her age would not see any reason to wear a bra with stuffing to a party with the same girls she showered with after gym class, so I made a mental note that Savannah would have tits, but still rather small.

Next was Rhonda. I didn't really need to inspect her for the purpose of the game, but when she stepped up to present herself I saw no reason not to enjoy the moment. Her crop top wasn't tight enough to see the exact shape of her breasts, but it was easy to see that they were at least cup C.
She did wear a bra, not really surprising with such large breasts. I found myself wondering how their form would change, and how they would move with Rhonda's motions, if she had not worn a bra. I forced myself to tear my eyes away from her perfect upper body shape. As much as I wanted to just keep staring, I had to stay within the rules of the game.
I praised my good memory, for I fully intended to relive this moment for the rest of my life!

Then came the first of the twins. Ally. As I turned to her, she practically pushed her chest forward, making sure that I could see very well that she, too, was developing nicely. Not that it was really needed. Her incredibly tight T-shirt had already revealed the outline of her small but firm breasts when the girls entered.
But I did notice a small change. Both her nipples were erected, poking firmly through the fabric of her shirt. No matter how much the girls told themselves that this was not a sex game, Ally's hormones clearly disagreed!
I looked a bit more, trying to estimate the size. While not nearly as big as Rhonda's, Ally's boobs were not small either. I think at least two inches or so.

I turned towards Grace. I really didn't need to inspect her chest. At her age she wasn't conscious about her body yet. Just a month ago she had asked me to finish reading a story while she was taking her bath. Completely uninhibited, she had me sit on the side of the bath as she undressed and stepped in. At that time I thought nothing about it. But now, in this new context, I recalled her flat chest, the white triangles that were normally covered by her bikini, her dark areolas, and the tiny nipples.
And now it was different.
Heck, she'd been completely naked. I had also seen her vulva, her beautiful smooth vulva. And her slit, small but pronounced. How could I have overlooked the beauty of that?
Pushing those thoughts away, I looked at her as she was now. Dressed in her favorite pale blue dress, I once more admired, as I always did, her angelic face, nicely tanned, surrounded by blond curly hairs, and lit up by two dreamy blue eyes and a mouth with the most irresistible smile I have ever seen.

Last in line was Hannah. Where her twin sister had almost shoved her chest in my face, Hannah clearly was still struggling with the consequences of the game. Shoulders forward, almost curling up in shame.
I didn't want to make this any harder for her so I only briefly looked, for show, and then turned away. I had already seen Ally. I assumed that Hannah's chest would be the same. It was probably going to be a 50/50 guess between the twins anyway.

Just then, Cindy returned with a tea towel.
“Just in time,” I said as I turned towards her.
With her short red hair, her freckles, and the cheeky look on her face, she had always been a tomboy. I was Grace's favorite uncle for cuddling, reading stories, and drinking tea with her dolls, but Cindy had always been about throwing balls, watching baseball, and playful fighting. With the onset of her puberty, about a year ago, her behavior had started to change. She stopped hanging out with the neighborhood boys, started hanging with girls, and rapidly gained the expected interest in boy bands and make-up. But she still wanted to play catch when I was around, her looks were still the same, and so were her clothes.
Today she wore her black baggy jeans, and a flannel button-down shirt I had not seen before. It was hard to see the shape of her chest under that.
“Stand straight, Cin,” Ally commanded. “Dave does need to have at least some chance!”
As Cindy straightened her back, I saw the linen of her shirt pushed forward ever so slightly, maybe half an inch.
Oh boy. Little nieces grow up fast. I understood why the play fights had ended a few months ago.

“Okay, enough gaping,” Cindy declared, “time to get you blindfolded.”
She walked around my chair, put the tea towel before my eyes, and started tying a knot. I readjusted the towel a bit to make it more comfortable.
“No peeking!” I heard Savannah say.
“Of course not,” I declared truthfully, “I see nothing.”
“Really?” That was Rhonda. I suddenly felt a gush of air in my face. “Okay, he's really fine.”
Apparently Rhonda had made a motion as if she was going to punch my face, and the lack of instinctive response must have reassured her.

“Is the knot firm enough?” Cindy asked. “We don't want it to slip but it should not hurt you.”
I reassured her that it was fine and suggested adding a second knot to make sure it would not come loose.
As Cindy finished tying the knot in my blindfold, I heard the sound of numerous shirts being doffed and trainer bras being unclipped around me. Was this really going to happen?
As the girls were undressing in preparation for our game, I recalled how all this started, just two hours ago.

“We're ready, Dave!” I heard in front of me.
One of the twins, but I had no idea which one. Their voices were really exactly alike.
I snapped myself out of my thoughts. This was going to happen. This was really going to happen. Six girls. Six very young girls. All sitting in front of me. All, I assumed, now bare breasted. All waiting for me to touch their tits, to feel their mounds and nipples.

The smarter me once more took over.
“I must ask this one more time, girls. Are you really all okay with this? We can still call this off if any of you have second thoughts.”
I paused for a while, then heard Savannah. “You can't see it but we were all just nodding, Dave. We won't back down.”

“Okay then,” I said. I took a deep breath. “Who's first?”

Continue to: Part 2: Let's play! >> | << Return to: Table Of Contents << P.D. Vile's stories