Kim’s Game – Chapter 1

Kim’s Game – Chapter 1
By
Caliboy1991

Closing his eyes, Kim imagined he was a demigod, standing on Mount Olympus. He held a bolt of lightning in his hand, feeling the electrical currents racing through his half-deity body.

A clanging forced him to open his eyes, images of Mount Olympus retreating into his imagination. He bent the page of the Percy Jackson novel and climbed to his feet. Padding over to the sliding glass door that opened on to what could only charitably be called a patio, he looked out the blinds and saw a moving truck.

Moving trucks were as common as door-knocking Jehovah’s Witnesses in the apartment complex. Still, this one had backed up against the apartment building he and his father called home. He wanted to get up and tell them to keep it quiet. His dad had gotten in about ten that morning, and the last thing Kim wanted to do was wake up his dad when it was barely past noon.

He put on some sandals and opened the door. A couple of burly men, staggering under the weight of a large sofa, moved past the boy until they stopped and set their load on the concrete walkway at the apartment next door.

The taller of the two said, “Sancho, turn it on its side, and we’ll take this heavy sum-bitch in that way.”

A moment later, the two disappeared into the apartment next door.

Mrs. Walsh, who had lived there until the previous month, had been good friends with Kim’s dad, despite the vast difference in their ages. In a lot of ways, she had been a grandmotherly figure to the boy, too. Always checking in on Kim when his dad was on the road. The boy bit his lower lip, thinking about how he’d been the one to find her dead in the apartment. The paramedic who’d calmed him down had told him that she’d died peacefully, from what he could tell. She had been almost eighty.

A soft voice startled Kim from looking toward the other apartment. “Oh, good. I’m glad there’re other kids around.”

Surprised, Kim pivoted around. Standing on the sidewalk just outside the Apartment building’s open central walkway, stood a girl. Sunlight reflected from her hair, giving it a radiant golden hue. When she stepped under the shade of the open walkway, Kim could see why it had seemed golden. The girl’s hair was the color of a wheat field.

She smiled at him as she approached, “Hi, I’m Arya. I guess you can see we’re moving in next door.”

Kim’s cheeks flushed as he felt the girl’s open gaze on him. She wore her hair in what Kim thought of as a page-boy cut, the back not quite touching the top of her yellow T-shirt. The boy wasn’t very good at guessing girls’ ages. She was very nearly as tall as him. But that wasn’t saying much. He’d been one of the shortest boys in the seventh grade. Girls grew up faster, he knew. A quick glance at Arya’s chest and Kim decided she was younger than his own thirteen years.

“Arya? Like from the Game of Thrones?” he finally managed.

She giggled, her straight, white teeth drawing his attention. “Yeah. Mom loves the Game of Thrones show. Did you watch it?”

Kim shook his head. Dad paid for basic cable and internet. “No, but I’ve been reading the series. I just got A Dance with Dragons from the library a few days ago.”

Arya leaned against the wall as the burly movers hurried back toward the moving van. “I’d rather watch the series, but Mom won’t let me.”

She made a silly face, “She says its too adult.”

Kim nodded. He recalled how shocked he’d been in book one when Bran had seen Cersei and Jaime fucking in the tower. He’ just turned twelve when he read the first book. It had opened his eyes to the complexities of human nature.

Still, he nodded at the girl, “Yeah. I can see why she’d say that.”

“Arya,” an exasperated voice from behind them said, “I leave you alone for one second, and you’re already making friends.”

Another girl, no, Kim corrected himself, a young woman came up the sidewalk, carrying a couple of boxes.

Arya beamed at the new arrival. “Yeah. This is…” she blushed and then stammered, “Uh. You never said your name.”

The girl had penetrated the boy’s normal taciturn nature, and he found himself smiling, “Hi, I’m Kim.”

Arya smirked, “That’s a girl’s name.”

The boy shrugged. If he had a dollar every time someone said that, he’d be a millionaire. “It’s short for Kimball.”

Arya nodded, “Kimball? That’s a nice name.”

Kim flushed. “You’re not the only one named for a character from a book. My mom picked my name from a novel by Rudyard Kipling.”

Thinking about his mom made Kim glance at the ground. Even though she’d been gone for more than a year, it still hurt when he thought of her.

“Oh, that’s cool!” Kim wasn’t sure if Arya was being serious or making fun of him.

The other young woman said, “Nice to meet you, Kim. I’m glad Arya’s already made a friend.” Then she turned to the young girl, “There are more boxes in the car, you want to help?”

A moment later, she disappeared into the open door with her boxes. Arya leaned over and nudged the boy, “You wanna help?”

Kim rolled his shoulders, “I guess so.”

Boxes jammed the backseat of the car; clothes, towels, kitchen utensils, and much more. As Arya stacked several boxes in Kim’s arms, the boy realized he hadn’t made any friends since moving into the apartment complex the previous year. Having one might be nice, he decided. He said, “I’m glad you and your sister are going to be our neighbors.”

Arya picked up a couple of boxes and giggled, “Sister? Oh…”

Confused by the girl’s mirth, Kim followed her into the open apartment. The young woman took the boxes from the boy’s arms. When Arya had deposited her boxes on the floor, still giggling, she said, “Kim thinks you’re my sister.”

The young woman put a hand over her face as she leaned against one of the cardboard boxes. She smiled at Kim, “How old do you think I am?”

Kim cocked his head to one side and took some time to really look at the older girl. Her hair, the same flaxen color as Arya’s, was worn only slightly longer, not quite reaching her shoulder. She wore a pink T-shirt with Hello Kitty emblazoned across it.

Kim glanced toward the floor when he realized he’d been staring at the young woman’s chest. Her T-shirt bent around an unobtrusive pair of breasts.

Feeling color in his cheeks, Kim said, “Dunno, maybe sixteen or seventeen.”

Arya fell to the floor, in a peal of laughter, while the young woman shook her head, “That’s sweet of you. Keep telling the women you meet the same thing, and you’ll be swatting them away like flies.”

When Arya stopped laughing, she said, “Come on, Mom, tell him!”

Kim’s eyes grew wide at the girl’s remark. The young woman sighed, “You see, Kim, this is what I have to put up with. I’m twenty-four.”

The boy was even more confused as he glanced between a girl only slightly smaller than him and her… mother?

As she began unpacking a box in the kitchen, Arya’s mom said, “I was just a teenager when I had Arya.”

Kim helped Arya bring in more boxes from their car, all the while listening to the girl prattle on. He didn’t catch everything, but he enjoyed the sound of her voice. It was a nice change from the silence of his own apartment.

By the time the car was empty of boxes, Kim felt sweat running down his face. His shirt was damp from perspiration, too. The hot sun of South Texas in June was enough to wilt anyone. Except for Arya. The girl seemed as fresh as before, although her hair was plastered to her head from sweat.

Kim followed behind Arya as they headed into the apartment with boxes from the moving van. The boy’s father stepped out into the open walkway and waved him over. Kim could see the tiredness in his dad’s eyes. But the strain from driving all night was gone.

“New neighbors?” his father, John said.

Before Kim could reply, Arya grinned and said, “Hi. I’m Arya Tyler. Me and my mom are your new neighbors.”

His dad’s eyes softened. He said, “Been helping these ladies, Kim?”

The boy nodded. Kim loved his dad. Always had. But they’d never been close. John O’Hara had been a truck driver the boy’s entire life, and until his mom’s passing, Kim had been close to her, while his dad had been distant, at best.

“That’s good. You should get out of the apartment more. Have you shown, ah, Arya around the complex? The playground? The pool?”

The boy shook my head.

His dad stretched his hand out, and Kim felt awkward getting his hair tousled.

Andrea Tyler stepped out of her apartment, followed by the movers. She signed a clipboard, and after the men left, she leaned against the door, “God, I hope we don’t have to do this again for a while. I hate moving.”

Arya pulled on her mom’s hand, “Mom, this is Mr. O’Hara, Kim’s dad.”

His dad seemed his distant self as he shook Andrea’s hand.

He managed, “Call me John. I guess my boy has already welcomed you ladies to the neighborhood, but it’s nice to get decent neighbors. Never know who the complex will rent to.”

His eyes drifted toward the parking lot. Kim repressed a sigh. After sleeping most of the day when he got back home, his dad liked to spend a few hours in the evening at a local bar, eating, having a few beers, and watching whatever game playing on the big screens.

Putting a hand on Kim, the boy’s father said, “I hope Kim was more help than a hindrance.”

Andrea nodded, “Absolutely. He helped Arya get the car emptied. He’s been a great helper. As a matter of fact, we were about to order some pizza, and if the two of you would like to stay around, we’d enjoy the company.”

Kim saw his dad glance again toward his pickup truck. Kim inherited his own shy nature from his dad. “Ah, I’ve got to get going. Plans already.”

Kim looked up at his dad, pleading in his eyes.

Perhaps Andrea saw the look as she said, “Sorry to hear that, John. If you’re okay with it, Kim’s welcome to stay.”

Kim felt confused at the look of relief in his dad’s eyes. Sometimes his dad made an effort to spend time with him, even if they had very little in common. More often than not, like now, his dad seemed to want nothing more than to get away.

John was leaving. He stopped long enough to say, “That’s fine. Just send him home when you get tired of him.”

***

Kim picked the olive off the slice of pizza, adding it to the small pile of olives and onions on the paper towel.

Andrea reached over and took the abandoned toppings and piled them on her pizza. “Didn’t think to ask what you like on your pizza. Next time I’ll be sure to ask.”

Kim wolfed down another bite and through a mouthful of food, said, “No problem. I don’t mind.”

When Andrea finished, she crumpled the paper towel and threw it in the empty pizza box. “I’d like to get some more of this unboxed today. Arya, maybe if you ask nicely, Kim will show you around the area.”

Kim smiled as the younger girl bounced on her knees, “That’d be awesome. Did you know there’s a pool here? Can we go and check it out?”

Andrea’s brow furrowed as she pursed her lips, “I dunno.”

The idea of taking Arya swimming sounded good. Since the pool had opened back up in the spring, Kim had tried to get over there a few times a week, either early in the morning or later in the evening, to swim. He piped up, “I’m a good swimmer, Ms. Tyler.”

Andrea’s gaze fell on Kim. “Please, Kim, call me Andrea. I can’t do Ms. Tyler.”

Kim felt awkward as Andrea’s eyes felt like they were penetrating him. “How old are you, Kim?

The boy worked to ignore his feelings. “I, uh, I turned thirteen right before Memorial Day.”

Dumbfounded, Andrea said, “Really? I thought you were younger.”

Arya chimed in, “Yeah. I thought you were ten or eleven. You’re really thirteen?”

Kim blushed. “Well, I thought your mom was your sister. We all make mistakes, right?”

Arya giggled, “Yeah. You really messed up on that one.”

Andrea smiled, “Alright. I guess you can go swimming with Kim. Your swimsuit is in one of those boxes on the sofa.”

Kim got up, “Cool. I’m going to change. I’ll be right back.”

Back in his bedroom, Kim dug out his swimsuit. It was in the bottom of a drawer stuffed with shorts and underwear.

He stripped down, trying to ignore his undeveloped body. In addition to being one of the shortest boys in the seventh grade, he was also among the least developed. He ran his fingers down his stomach, over his smooth abdomen and pubic area. Even the vellus hairs on his arms hadn’t graced his pubic area with their presence.

His nutsack hung down barely at all, and his tiny balls were a source of endless frustration. His friends at school called them the baby-makers, but so far, the only thing they’d made was him embarrassed. Especially in the shower at school. After seeing other boys’ naked bodies over the past couple of years, Kim realized that there was no one perfect size. All the boys were different down there in one way or another. Some, like his friend Jeff, was hung like a horse. His dick was more than four inches long soft. He liked to brag that when he got hard, he’s six inches. Then there was the class nerd, Benny. His penis pointed almost straight out from his body, too short even to droop. Kim doubted the boy was even an inch long.

Kim was closer to Benny in size than Jeff. Flaccid, Kim’s penis was just under two inches. Erect, it didn’t quite grow to four. Like it was getting now. He was thinking about Arya’s mom. Her beautiful face was easy to recall. And he couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his thumb and first couple of fingers around himself and pumping his wrist up and down.

Kim lay down on his bed and closed his eyes. He imagined seeing Andrea naked, pulling off her shirt and revealing… what exactly? Most of the time, when Kim masturbated to the image of a pretty girl or woman, he saw her tits as the central part of her features. D, DD, yeah, he loved fapping to large breasted women. But Andrea wasn’t like that. The way her T-shirt clung to her chest, her tits weren’t a central feature at all. Still, her face played across his imagination as the tension in his dick grew. The familiar sense of needing to pee approached, and Kim simply kept pumping his fist until the tingling exploded from within his dick, which twitched and spasmed with his dry cum.

He lay there for a few minutes, letting his orgasm fade. Then the guilt came. “Shit,” he thought, “I shouldn’t have thought about Andrea. She’s my freakin’ neighbor.”

Still, it wasn’t that bad, he rationalized. He’d fantasized about several girls in his class and even the new seventh-grade science teacher. Nothing had ever come of those fantasies, and nothing would come from this one either.

There was a knock at the door. Kim glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand. Twenty minutes had passed since he came back home to get dressed. He rolled off the bed and pulled up the red swimsuit from last year. As he tied the string, the waist wasn’t as loose as last summer. Although it still fit, it was snugger.

Kim pushed his penis down and smoothed the material until his erection was barely noticeable and went and opened the door. Arya stood in the doorway. Her smile widened at the sight of his swimsuit, “Oh, good. I was afraid you’d changed your mind. Are you ready?”

The girl’s yellow swimsuit, like his own, was from last year. Unlike Kim, Arya must have grown quite a bit over the past year. The yellow fabric of the one-piece was taut across her body. If she hadn’t been as flat as Kim, then her nipples would have shown through. The material was even tighter the lower it went, and Kim glanced away as soon as he saw the camel-toe stretched between her legs.

“Uh, yeah, just had to change into my swimsuit.”

Arya twirled around, “Me, too. Mom said she’d take me to get a new swimsuit for my birthday. I can hardly wait. This one doesn’t fit very good anymore.”

Kim closed the door and said, “Come on, I’ll show you the pool.”

Thirty apartment buildings made up the complex. In addition, there was a large clubhouse that was available for parties. A swimming pool was behind the clubhouse and was open from Spring Break in March, all the way until Halloween in the fall.

As he led Arya across the parking lot, Kim felt sweat bead up on his forehead. “The pool’s open most of the year,” he said, “Unfortunately, you’ll half-dead from the heat before you get to the pool half that time.”

Arya giggled as she followed behind.

Once Kim keyed in the passcode on the entrance to the pool, he glanced around. A few leaves were floating in the water. No doubt, the maintenance man hadn’t skimmed pool since first thing in the morning.

There was nobody else here at the moment. Sometimes, the pool was crowded, especially on a Saturday. But it was almost eight in the evening, and even though the pool was open until ten, most of the families that used the pool were already back in their apartments.

Kim dropped his towel on one of the lounge chairs and jumped into the water. A second later, he was covered in a big splash as Arya pulled herself into a cannonball and landed a couple of feet away from the boy.

The young girl came up laughing, splashing at Kim. Normally, when Kim came to the pool, he liked to swim laps, although it was only about half the length of an Olympic sized pool. And usually, he wanted to come when there was a lesser chance of sharing the pool. But Arya’s infectious spirit had the boy splashing back at her.

Arya swam around and climbed on his back, forcing Kim under the water. Her hands, slightly smaller than his own, gripped his shoulders until his head submerged. The boy pulled his feet up and sank, pulling away from the girl. He swam underwater until he circled back around and grabbed her legs and pulled.

After a bit, the girl was out of breath and waded over to the steps where she sat, her torso above the water. Kim came over to her, standing on his knees in the shallow water. He said, “You’ve seen the pool. Whatcha think?”

The girl got a wistful expression, “It’s fun. I wish Mom would let me come over by myself, but she thinks I’m a little kid.”

The boy had already noticed that there was perhaps an inch in height separating Arya from him. “How old are you?”

The girl sighed, “I’ll be nine in two weeks.”

Kim’s eyes bulged, “No way. You’re almost as tall as me, and I’m thirteen!”

Arya gave him a disarming smile, “Really? You look younger.”

Kim laughed, “Well, you look older.”

The girl giggled, “Thanks. I think. I was the tallest girl in my third-grade class. A lot of the boys were jealous.”

Kim shook his head, “I was one of the shortest boys in my seventh-grade class, and I was the one who was jealous.”

Arya said, “I’m four feet and eight inches tall. How tall are you?”

Kim shrugged. Being the shortest, getting measured had been demoralizing over the past couple of years as his junior high friends had outpaced him by several inches.

“I dunno. Been a while since I measured.”

The girl rose to her feet and waded over to him. “Stand up and let’s see.”

Despite the girl’s winsome and outgoing personality, Kim dreaded what she might say if she was, as he feared, as tall as him. Still, Arya was insistent, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet.

She stepped up to him, face to face until Kim felt her toes brush against his.

Her eyes, only a few inches from his face, were just below his eyes. Barely. Arya put a hand on her own head and moved it across, bumping against the top of his head.

She flashed a smile, “I think you’re an inch taller than me.”

It felt weird to stand so close to the girl, their faces so close together. Kim glanced down. Her swimsuit was inches from his chest. His swimsuit was just inches from where the girl’s swimsuit ran between her legs. Kim had never been as close to a girl as he was right then. Of course, he reminded himself, the girl was four years younger than him. But Arya’s happy smile radiated from her eyes, and those locked into his, almost precisely at his own eye-level. It didn’t feel like she was that much younger.

The boy blinked and lowered himself back into the water and swam back toward the middle of the pool. Confusion filled his mind as he looked at the girl who swam after him. She was, he reminded himself, just a kid, four years his junior. But he didn’t feel that way, not when they were standing toe-to-toe.

When the girl caught up with him, she flashed him that smile of hers, “Thanks for bringing me over to the pool, Kim.”

Kim shrugged, “No problem. I had fun.”

The girl caught him by surprise when she reached out and hugged him. Her arms were around his neck as she said, “Thanks for being my friend.”

She let him go. The boy felt even more confused than before. In the back of his mind, he reminded himself that she was a lot younger, no matter that she could nearly look him straight in the eye. Another part latched itself onto the girl’s words. Kim wasn’t close to his friends at school. Really, they were more like acquaintances. Arya wanted to be his friend, and even if he doubted he’d have much in common with the almost-nine-year-old, he liked the idea of having a friend.

The last thing he’d felt was the girl’s body against his own, if only for a brief moment. As he swam over to the ladder to get out, Kim felt something stirring within his swimsuit.

Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
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