High quality erotica. And more....

Month: December 2021 (Page 1 of 3)

The Treehouse – Epilogue

The Treehouse – Epilogue

Erin put the car in park, “Tell your granny hi for me.”

I leaned over and kissed her, “I don’t want to push my luck. It’s been two years since I had to explain the whole Eric thing. I’m not sure she’s ever completely forgiven me for that.”
Erin brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. She was letting it grow out now that I had cut my hair. Both of us now had hair touching our collars. “Could have fooled me. She practically lets you live with me.”

I grinned, “What was it she said? ‘I done raised one kid. I ain’t doing it again.’ As long as I check in from time to time, let her know I’m still alive, and don’t disturb her when she’s watching her game shows and soaps, she doesn’t much care.”

Before I could open my door, Erin reached across and grabbed at my crotch. My hand faltered on the door handle, all thoughts of my granny forgotten. My girlfriend of three years deftly unbuckled my belt and unzipped my jeans. “Pull them down, Bry. Time to celebrate the last day of my of my sophomore year properly.”

I glanced through the rearview mirror. The yard was even more weed-infested than ever. The gravel road wasn’t visible from the car. The only person to worry about was my granny, and she had never bothered coming to the door before. I lifted my hips and pulled my jeans and underwear down to my knees.

Erin reached over and ran her fingers through the silky strands of my pubes. I may have started puberty when I was twelve and a half, but my body didn’t seem inclined to rush things. Freshman gym had been no better than the previous few years. I had started the year almost bald. Now, nine months later, a few dozen lonely strands of silky hair sprang from the base of my dick.

But even now, a couple of months shy of fifteen, my body was still smooth, except for a small patch of pubic hair over my dick and a few wisps under my arms. Freshman gym had been little better than any of the previous years, although having a girlfriend doesn’t hurt your social standing.

Erin’s fingers played with my growing erection until I grew to my full five inches. After a few playful tugs, she leaned over and licked my glans, sending a shiver through me. I could be a hundred and five and this would never get old. Her lips slid around my little helmet as her saliva lubed my shaft. When she slid down, she paused when my tip reached her throat. Then, with an expertise that came from years of experience, she pushed down until my wispy strands tickled her nose. The way her throat closed around the end of my dick sent a wave of pleasure rushing over me. My adolescent voice, still trying to find itself, groaned, “Fucking fantastic, Erin. Ahh.”

Her only response was to bob up and down on my erection. My eyes drifted close as my head rested against the seatback of Erin’s car. Those wonderful tingles weren’t far away, and I let them find me as they radiated out from the base of my dick. Even though less than twenty-four hours had passed since we fucked last, I would not last long.

Erin knew my body as well as her own; she bobbed faster. She wrapped her fingers around my balls and gently squeezed them, knowing that would only hasten my eruption. The tingling grew and fireworks exploded behind my closed eyelids as my balls pulled inward and my dick seemed to expand and grow even harder. Erin pulled back until her lips trapped only my glans as my dick spasmed and the first blast of cum hit the back of her throat. Another half-dozen lesser blasts followed.

Lights were still going off behind my eyelids when she finally pulled off my dick with a wet plop. I only opened my eyes when she grabbed my face and pulled me into a kiss. Even though she had swallowed all I had, the salty taste of my cum lingered heavy on her tongue. She swore she loved my taste, but to me it was saltier and slightly more bitter with every passing month.

When her lips unlocked with mine, Erin said, “Don’t forget to pull your pants up before you go into see your granny. That would be awkward.”

I laughed at the image, as improbable as it was, as I pulled my clothes back into place and climbed out of the car. The trailer looked even more destitute after three years. I climbed the cinderblock stairs and opened the door. The TV blared in the living room.

“Hi, Granny, I’m home.”

The only sound was the TV. That was odd. Sometimes, she would greet me warmly, with a “Hey Bryan, how was your day?” or “Shush, Bryan. So-and-so’s about to reveal something big on my show.” It was always something.

I hurried into the living room. Granny was right where I expected her to be, and she appeared to be asleep. I crossed the room and knelt by the recliner, “Hey Granny, I’m home. Last day of school for the summer.”

Hers didn’t blink; there was no response. Worried, I nudged her shoulder, “Granny?”

Her head fell forward, her chin resting against her chest. She was cool to the touch. I fell back, stunned. A moment later, I was on my feet, racing back to the door, where I threw it open, “Erin! It’s Granny! I think she’s dead!”

I didn’t wait, but went back to the recliner. Granny was just as I left her. A moment later, Erin barged into the room. She knelt in front of the chair. After a long pause, she swore, “Fuck. Not again.”

I pursed my lips. This wasn’t the first time we had found a body in one of our homes. Erin rocked back on her knees, “Shit, Bry. I’m sorry about this. This sucks.”

I knew I was supposed to feel something. We hadn’t seen Mom in almost three years, so it was just me and Granny. Only it never really was. I was nothing more than a burden to her. My only emotion was of fear. What were we going to do now? It was just me and Erin now.

I shook my head, “Shit happens. What are we going to do now? Granny took you to get your driver’s license. When we needed stuff done, we could talk her into it.”

Erin got a calculating look in her eye. I’d seen it before. Finally her head shook, “I don’t guess we can bury her in the woods like we did with my mom.”

I blinked in surprise. It had happened over the second Christmas holiday after we started dating. Erin was a few months shy of turning fifteen. I was thirteen and a half. We had come in from the treehouse the day after Christmas and found her mom dead on the couch.

Erin’s mom was an only child and both sets of her grandparents were already dead. She had no family. To call the authorities and report the death meant being taken away from the only life she knew. And that’s why we buried her mom under a live oak tree halfway between the treehouse and the river.

Erin had already mastered her mom’s signature, taught herself to drive. Toward the end of her mom’s life, Erin was the only contact Mrs. McBride had with the outside world. Erin took the insurance check and social security checks to the bank each month, went to the grocery store too. After a particularly nasty spat between her mom and the man who ran the liquor store, she had even taken to picking up her mom’s booze, even though it was illegal.

Is it bad to say her mom’s death was actually the day Erin was liberated? Looking back, it doesn’t feel like it. The biggest change was I spent almost all my time with her after that. I’d check in with Granny, but that was it. It took a couple of months, but we eventually cleaned her mom’s stuff away and made the master bedroom our own. For more than a year now, we cooked together, shopped together, learned how to pay the bills to keep the lights and electricity on, all while keeping up with our school work.

And now that my granny was dead, all we had built was in jeopardy. Erin stood, “I don’t know what we’re going to do, Bryan. Once school starts back up, who will go with us to get us enrolled? Without your granny’s help last year, they would’ve found me out.”

I moved away from the body, “That gives us a couple of months, still. Right?”

Erin joined me, and took my hand and led me outside, “Not sure how the cops would feel about getting a call about your granny in the middle of August.”

She left the rest unsaid. But I could paint the mental image on my own. There would be some very uncomfortable questions about it. And those questions would inevitably lead back to Erin’s mom. Since her mom’s death, Erin and I had been living in her house on borrowed time. Our plans had been for us to leave Zavalla as soon as we both graduate from high school.

My voice was scratchy and full of worry, “We need to be gone before the cops find Granny’s body.”

Erin leaned against the hood of the car, “I don’t know if we have enough money yet, Bry. We thought we had a couple of years yet.”

Between the social security check for Erin and the insurance payment to her mom, the McBrides took in a bit over two thousand dollars each month. Erin squirreled a few hundred dollars each month away. It was our seed money to start our life over somewhere else. Two more years would have given us another ten grand. I leaned against her and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, “How much do we have?”

We didn’t trust the bank with that money. There was too much at stake. My most recent growth spurt had finally pulled me even with her and her head fit perfectly on my shoulder, where she rested it, “About five thousand dollars. I don’t know if that’s enough.”

“Do you think maybe we can stay here until school starts, then leave? If we save every dollar, maybe we’d have enough.”

She slid her eyes over to mine, “I guess. We can stop paying the mortgage on the house and save a few hundred dollars. Not like we can keep it. Probably find some other things we can cut out. But we’ll have to be ready to go at a moment’s notice.”

Right or wrong, we left Granny just as we found her; Resting in the recliner in front of the TV.

We hadn’t been up on top of the roof of the treehouse in a while. It felt weird to be up there instead of at school. Registration had come and gone and Labor Day was a memory. We knew we needed to be away, and soon. But the summer had been idyllic, the best yet for us. A few days after finding Bryan’s granny, I gave him my dad’s wedding band. It was too big to fit around his finger, so he wore it around his neck, just like I wore my mom’s wedding band.

We didn’t care if it was legal; Hell, we had enough felonies behind us to cause us a lifetime of troubles. This little technicality didn’t even phase us. There wasn’t much use hanging out in the house. We hadn’t paid the electrical bill since Granny’s death. Only the water and gas bill, so we could stay clean and eat. But we’d managed to save another three thousand dollars. If we could make it through to Thanksgiving, we’d have over ten thousand saved; enough for us to start over.

“You there, Erin?” Bryan looked up at me. He lay on the sleeping bag while I straddled him. We were both wearing too much clothing.

“Yeah, let me help you with that,” I said as I pulled his t-shirt off. Like me, he had a deep tan. His shoulders were wider than his hips, although not obscenely so, like some guys with more muscles than brains. I stood and made quick work of his pants and underwear. The summer had been gentle with him. The lonely strands of silky pubes now formed a tight, curly patch at the base of his cock. Strange, when I was younger, I dreaded either of us getting pubic hair and growing up. But now I looked at him and found he was still perfect.

I tugged off my shirt. When we were alone, I went without a bra, and my breasts jiggled in the sultry breeze as I bent over and pulled my shorts and panties off. My tits didn’t quite fill the a-cup bra I wore in public. Most girls who are small are self-conscious about their tiny tits. But the way Bryan looked at them chased away all my insecurities.

Naked, I resumed my straddle. With a slight shift of my hips, Bryan’s dick slid comfortably within me. An intense sense of wellbeing washed over me as I worked my knees and hips. Bryan did his part, resting his hands against my hips, thrusting up as I came down. We were soon covered in sweat and my juices. Every time my pussy pushed down on his pubic bone, a wet, slapping noise filled the air.

You might think after more than three years together, I would tire of being on top. But you’d be wrong. I don’t understand it, and neither does Bryan, but there’s something about our personalities where I enjoy dominating him sexually and he enjoys being under me, letting me lead out. In a way, it fits our relationship. Bryan had learned to speak up and let me know his opinions and what he liked, but he still deferred to me. And we were never more perfect than when we fucked.

Bryan moaned, and I knew he was close. That rapturous vocalization of his pleasure pushed me closer, and my knees and hips shifted into overdrive as I reached my own orgasm. He thrust up a last time and shuddered. He filled me completely now and when fiery blasts of his cum coated my cervix and pussy walls, that was it for me. My whole body shook as I came.
I lowered my chest against Bryan’s and enjoyed the heavy pounding of our hearts. I imagined his millions of little sperm swimming up, trying to find my eggs. Maybe one day soon I would stop using birth control and let nature take its own course. It wouldn’t be the first time.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the warmth of Bryan’s body. It was too hot out for our sweat to evaporate, but I didn’t care. My thoughts returned to that moment when we got the shock of our young lives. It was the summer between my eighth and ninth grade. I hadn’t had my period yet, even though I was already fourteen. A few weeks into the summer, I started to get cramps. At first, I thought nothing of it. But the cramps grew worse. Then one morning, when the cramps were at their worst, I was on the toilet, hunched over in the worst pain imaginable. My pee felt all wrong and something more was happening. When I finished, I stood and screamed.

Bryan raced in and looked into the bloody toilet bowl. A tiny, ill-formed fetus floated on the water. Even though he was far more passive than me, he took control, took me back to bed and then fished the miscarriage from the bowl and went into the woods and buried it. We never talked about it again, although young love can’t be easily contained and we were soon fucking almost every day. Thankfully, that’s about the time school started again. The nurse in the high school provided me with the pill.

I blinked away the memory and murmured against his chest, “That was fantastic, Bry.”

He smiled at me until we heard sirens in the distance. His smile evaporated as we both rose to our feet. The world seemed to crystalize at that moment. The only sounds were those of sirens, and they were coming closer.

We dressed in a flash. We rolled the sleeping bags and left them at the foot of the tree. Bryan grabbed my arm as I started toward the house. “I gotta see. Then we can leave.”

The look in his eyes melted my heart. He wasn’t the kind of boy to put many demands on me and although I was scared to death of being found out, I couldn’t refuse him. We hurried through the woods, staying on my house’s side of the road until we came even with where the trailer was on the opposite side.

Bryan led the way; the closer to the road we came, the thicker the underbrush. We eventually were close enough to see a couple of police cars and an old brown Pontiac. A voice I didn’t recognize was shrill, “What the fuck do you mean she’s been dead for a while? How couldn’t you know what’s going on?”

Bryan’s face was ashen. He muttered, “It’s my mom.”

I grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the road, just a few heartbeats before a black coroner’s station wagon pulled into the overgrown drive. Once we were far enough back, I turned on him, “What do you want to do, Bry?”

He looked in the direction of the trailer. Normally, the silence between us was as natural as our conversations. But as time dragged by, I grew pensive. This wasn’t like him. “Bry?”

He shook his head, “Fuck her. She abandoned me a long time ago. Let’s get the hell out of here while we still can. It won’t be long before they’re looking for me. For us.”

We retrieved the sleeping bags on the way back to the house. It was only the work of a few minutes to grab our saved cash and suitcases previously packed against this eventuality. The luggage went into the trunk and the cash split into several paper bags. One went into the glove compartment and the others, under the bench-seat.

We stopped at the end of the drive. In the distance, we could see another car pull into the trailer’s driveway. I looked in the rearview mirror. The house hadn’t looked this good since my dad died. Bryan and I had put lots of effort into keeping it looking nice. My eyes stung as I bit my lower lip. This wasn’t the time for tears. I blinked them away and put the car in park. I worked the house keys off the key chain and opened the car door. I moment later, I opened the mailbox and dropped them on top of a past-due utility bill.

Back in the car, I leaned over and kissed Bryan before whispering, “We’re in charge of our lives now, Bryan. No looking back?”

His eyes briefly cut to where sat his granny’s trailer, hidden by the thicket of pine and oaks. He turned to me, his beautiful heart-shaped face more serious than ever before as he clenched his jaw, “My home is with you, Erin. Let’s go.”

I turned away from the past and went the other direction. Before long, we were on the blacktop, our future uncertain. All we had was each other.

Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

The Treehouse – Chapter 10

The Treehouse – Chapter 10

Going through Mom’s makeup felt weird, but Erin needed a white base for our Halloween costumes. Mom had plenty of makeup, but she had scattered it haphazardly on her vanity. The clutter was a testament to the chaos of her life. I found some mascara tubes, which I thought would go well for the skeletal makeup before eventually finding the white base. Naturally, it was at the bottom of her makeup bag.

I hurried to her door and looked down the hall, into the living room. Granny was where I left her, watching TV. I buried both tubes in my jeans pocket. The last thing I wanted was to let her know I’d been in Mom’s room. Although, as I turned out the light and gently closed the door, I wondered what it mattered. Mom hadn’t been home all week, although she and Granny had gotten into a fight on the phone the previous day when Granny finally figured out Mom had been staying over at Jimmy Todd’s place since the weekend.

It was hard to care at this point. If I hadn’t been eating over at Erin’s more often than at home, I don’t know what I would have done. It’s not that the pantry was empty, but when it came to buying groceries, Mom was determined to live the life she wanted, and Granny’s Social Security checks didn’t go far enough to include food for me or Mom.

On my way out the door, I leaned over and gave Granny a quick hug, “Hanging out with Eric.” I’d gotten good at remembering what I called Erin when talking to my granny. “We’re going trick or treating. Then we’re spending the night over there so we can count our candy.”

Granny reluctantly turned from her TV, “You kids have fun and save your complaining when you have a belly-ache. Stay off the highways. And if you see your momma in town, tell her to call me.”

I bobbed my head as I hurried out the door. I was pedaling toward Erin’s house as fast as my wheels could carry me. Between school and our families, we weren’t able to spend as much time together as he had during the summer, but we walked to and from the bus stop each day, and I still spent most evenings over at her place until it was time to come home. I preferred to stay below my granny’s already apathetic radar.

I parked my bike behind Erin’s house and knocked on the back door before opening it, “Hello!”

Her voice echoed from her room, “Come on back.”

I found her mom eating something from a plate. An open bottle of beer stood on the coffee table and the TV inanely blared at her. It was as if I didn’t even exist as I passed through toward Erin’s room.

I found Erin in her bathroom. My eyes lit up to find her topless. She glared at the mirror. When her eyes lit on me, she grabbed a long-sleeve t-shirt and tossed it to me, “Here’s your shirt. I didn’t realize when I bought them, they’d be such a snug fit.”

I tried to ignore her buds as I shucked my t-shirt and donned the black shirt. When I pulled it over my head, the stretchy material clung to my torso. Once I freed my head, I could see the shirt was silk-screened with bones and was tight against my skin. “You try yours on yet?” I asked.

She grumbled, “It’s too tight.”

The fabric fit me like a glove. To a boy who was lucky to get second-hand clothes, the shirt was nearly perfect. “How?”

She rolled her eyes at me before grabbing it and pulling it on. Once her arms were through the sleeves, my eyes were drawn to her problem. “Oh.”

Oh, indeed. After five months together, I hadn’t noticed the growth in her chest; it had been very modest. But the stretchy, form-fitting fabric hugged her torso in ways no other shirt ever had, and the slight swelling of her breasts seemed to be magnified by the stretchy material. For the first time, I realized how puffy were her nipples.

She shook her head after the pulled the shirt off, “What the hell am I going to do, Bry? I don’t have any undershirts or a training bra. I blew the clothing money from Mom on jeans and button-down shirts.”

“Maybe we can cover them with something,” I offered, “do you have any ACE bandages?”

The tone in Erin’s voice worried me. While she didn’t care about me seeing her, a reason she wore the button-down boy’s shirts was they were baggy enough to hide her underdeveloped chest. In that moment, I was ready to run back to the trailer to see if I could find any ACE bandages in my granny’s bathroom, even though I would create a shit-storm getting into her stuff.

She shrugged, “I’ll go check my mom’s bathroom.”

A few minutes later, she returned with a wad of tan wrap. “There was some in Dad’s medical supplies. I guess it’s a good thing Mom hasn’t thrown any of that out yet.”

A few minutes later, we wrapped her chest tightly with the elastic bandage, reducing the small swells almost to nothingness. She wore one of her mom’s undershirts over the wrapping. Once she dressed in the skeletal shirt, she looked like a boy again.

She helped me with my makeup, and by the time twilight fell, we were two skeletons. The ride into town on our bikes put us in one neighborhood where every home was lit up. Kids and teens moved from house to house, trick or treating. We were lucky we didn’t see any of the bullying sort from the junior high while we filled our bags full of cavity inducing candy.

It was about halfway between sundown and sunup when Erin and I dragged our haul of candy to the treehouse. We had swung through her house long enough for her to check on her mom and for us to wipe the makeup from our faces. And we felt exhausted. But the funny thing was, when we sat on the mattress and dumped the mountain of candy onto the sleeping bags, our fatigue fled.

“I’ll trade you these Milk Duds for those M&Ms, Bry.”

I had plenty of M&Ms and Milk Duds. But I was more of an M&M guy. Still, the look Erin gave me was enough for me to nod, “Sure.”

A few minutes later, she took her tops off, “Help me unravel this bandage. I guess the next time I get out to the clothing store, I’m going to have to pick out some undershirts, maybe a bra.
When we finished unwrapping her, I eyed her chest. I’m not sure how I missed it, but she really was budding. Her swelling chest protruded almost an inch. Her nipples and areolas another half inch. I wondered if she’d be able to get to the end of the eighth grade still hiding them in a boy’s button-down shirts. But I didn’t know if I should agree with her. I hoped I was playing it safe, “You look just fine to me.”

A grin split across her face, “I’m glad you like my tits, Bry. But you wouldn’t want other guys seeing my nipples poking through my shirt, would you?”

The idea of other guys seeing Erin the way I did turned my stomach sour and made me unhappy. What we shared was special. “No way.”

Erin slid out of the nylon black pants, silkscreened with more bones, until she was in her pantie. She crawled toward me, until her hands were on either side of my hips, “Why don’t I show you how much I like it when you play with my tits?”

She made quick work of my costume pants and underwear, pushing me to lie down on the mattress. The candy rolled onto the floor, but as she took my stiffy in her hand, I forgot about everything but us. When her lips wrapped around my bullet shaped head, I moaned in pleasure. I hoped I’d never get used to the intense pleasure pulsing through part of me.

After a bit, with Erin bobbing, sucking, and licking, that familiar tingle radiated outward from the base of my stiffy. I closed my eyes, enjoying the way she sucked on me, and when the moment of my dry cum came, I went rigid from the powerful orgasm while the tingles gushed throughout my body.

Almost before my orgasm faded away, Erin’s tongue was twisting around mine as she kissed me. When our lips parted, she said, “My turn, Bry. Make me feel the same way.”

“There’s a meat thermometer in the drawer by the oven, Bry. I’ll open the door and let you get take the bird’s temperature.”

I opened up the oven and felt the intense heat wash over me. Bryan, dressed in a pair of khaki pants I had bought for him the same day he and I had bought my first training bra, held up the meat thermometer and leaned forward and stuck the steel tip into the bird.

After a protracted moment, he said, “Shit, it’s hot. Um, the thermometer says one-hundred-seventy. Is that hot enough?”

A voice from the doorway between the dining room and living room said, “Yes. If you leave it in much longer, the turkey will dry out.”

I glanced at my mom. Her face was pale and angular. How much weight had she lost since Dad died? Too much, I wagered. But she had taken the time to get cleaned and dressed. Her green blouse would have been more suited to Christmas than Thanksgiving.

I grabbed some potholders and pulled the heavy pan from the oven and set it on the countertop. The kitchen, already filled with aromas of holiday food, made my mouth water. By the time everything was ready, the clock on the wall showed it was a few minutes after noon. When we sat down at the table, me on one side, with Bryan at one end and Mom across from me. My dad’s seat, at the head of the table, was empty.

With school, taking care of Mom, and discovering how much Bryan meant to me, I hadn’t had much time to dwell on my dad. This was the first Thanksgiving without him, and in that moment, I felt his loss particularly hard.

Mom glanced toward the empty chair, eyes watering. “Well, Jim used to say a blessing. It seems fitting, but I don’t know what to say.”
I still blamed God for taking my dad from me; He and I weren’t on speaking terms. The uncomfortable silence lingered until Bryan said, “Um, I don’t really know what to say, but I can say a prayer.”

Mom smiled, a look of relief on her face. Despite the way her alcoholism ravaged her memory, she had eventually started to recall Bryan’s name and the fact that he and I were best friends. Being the tomboy I was, she didn’t know just how deep our friendship went, and I saw no reason to explain it.

Bryan looked so cute as he swept a lock of his long hair from in front of his eyes before clasping his hands above the table. “God, bless this food. Um, bless Erin and her mom. Thanks for giving me a great friend. Bless the TV dinner my granny is eating, and bless my mom, where ever she is now. Amen.”

When Bryan finished, Mom tore her eyes away from the empty chair, “What’s this about your granny and a TV dinner? You know you could have invited her.”

Bryan flushed, uncomfortable at my mom’s attention, “Erin and I told her she was welcome. But she just wanted to watch the parades on TV and eat a TV dinner.”

I didn’t like to see Bryan uncomfortable, “Yeah, Mom. I went over there myself and invited her.”

It was the gospel truth, but both Bryan and I were relieved when his granny rebuffed us. After all, she still thought my name was Erik. The longer we could hold off admitting our deception, the better off we’d be.

I stood and grabbed a fork and put some turkey and gravy on Mom’s plate, and then did the same for Bryan and me. While I did this, Mom said, “Bryan, be a saint for me. Grab a beer for me from the fridge. I need a bit of the hair of the dog to chase away this headache.”

Bryan cut his eyes to me. Mom hadn’t promised to not drink, only that she would celebrate the holiday with us. Still, if Bryan said no, she would just get up and grab it herself, and probably hold a grudge for the rest of the meal. I hated myself for nodding, but I wanted a bit of normalcy for once with my mom.

Bryan returned with a bottle of Lone Star and gave it to Mom. After she took a long pull, she said, “Now that’ll chase away a hangover. Now, let’s eat.”

About the time the silence became awkward, Bryan, with a forkful of sweet potato casserole in his mouth, spoke around the food, “Did you see any of the floats on TV this morning, Mrs. McBride?”

Mom set the bottle down, and her eyes unfocused. I had woken her up in the living room this morning before Bryan came over. The TV had been showing one of the parades, but I doubted she had paid it any mind. She took another long pull at the bottle of beer, draining it. “I-, I think so. Kermit the Frog floating along, behind Ms. Piggy. Fetch me another beer, okay?”

Bryan traded another look with me as he retrieved another bottle from the fridge. When we had talked about a proper family Thanksgiving meal, I had hoped my mom wouldn’t ruin it by getting drunk. But the last thing I wanted was a scene; that would ruin it more surely than letting her drink.

By the time I brought the pecan and pumpkin pies from the fridge, there were four bottles in front of Mom’s seat at the table. When she saw the pies, she slurred her words, “Ooh, get me a piece of pumpkin pie. Make sure you pile it high with Cool Whip.”

While I dished out slices of pie, Bryant helped by clearing the table. When he set some of the dishes in the sink, he leaned over, “I’m sorry about your mom, Erin. I don’t want to get her more beer, but I don’t think I could stop her if she wanted to get her own.”

I shrugged and sighed, “It’s better this way, Bry. At least she’s not making a scene and you and me get to enjoy our first Thanksgiving as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

I wanted to put the knife down and plant kisses all over him. But I didn’t want to deal with Mom deciding to finally try to mother me. That would really have been awkward. Instead, I handed Bryan my mom’s piece of pie, piled high with Cool Whip, “Take this over to her. You want pecan or pumpkin?”

He took the pie, “Dunno. We always celebrated Thanksgiving in front of the TV watching my step-dad’s football games. Maybe one of each?”

As he took the pie over to my mom, I wondered where the boy put away the food. Even after all those months, he was as skinny and rangy as ever. Maybe slightly taller, but that was it.

Mom’s hand was shaky as she lifted her fork to her mouth. The booze was affecting her. Still, she managed to take the bite before taking another swig of beer. Bryan’s nose wrinkled after taking a bite of pumpkin pie. He chewed it for a moment before spitting it onto his plate, “Gross. People eat this shit?”

Mom was in oblivion. Used to, had I cussed like that, she’d have worn my ass out. Now, she simply reached for another bite. I stuck my tongue out at Bryan, “It’s an acquired taste. Now, if you’re not going to eat the rest of it, give it to me. I will.”

Mom sat at the table, adding to her collection of beer bottles while Bryan and I cleaned up the kitchen. We had enough leftovers to last a week. Once we finished, I came over to Mom, “You want to watch TV?”

Her eyes were bleary and unfocused when she looked up at me. “I’m g-, good, sweetie. I’ll go watch TV.”

But when she stood, she knocked over the chair and staggered against the wall. It took both me and Bryan to help her. We passed right by the door to the living room and took her into her bedroom. I sat her on the edge of her bed. The blouse she had on was expensive silk. She would ruin it is she fell asleep in it. So, I unbuttoned it and slid it from her shoulders. Seeing her in just a bra was a reminder that my modest bumps on my chest were hereditary. Her b-cup bra easily contained her breasts. Even there, the past year had eaten away at her body. Before, she had never been buxom, but there had been more definition.

I pushed her back, laying her down. The red slacks would be a problem. I couldn’t get them off without help. And Mom’s head had barely hit the pillow when she started to snore. I glanced at Bryan, who was staring at Mom’s bra. “Hey. If you wanna stare at some boobs, help me with her pants. You can look at mine. ‘Kay?”

Blushing furiously at being busted, he came over, “How can I help?”

We both climbed onto the bed and, together, we inched her slacks off. I pulled the covers over her. I’m sure when she finally woke, she’d wonder how she got into her underwear. With any luck, she’d just think it was something she did on her own. “Come on, Bry. Let’s get out of here. Let’s hang out in the treehouse.”

A bit later, we had spread one of the sleeping bags across the roof and lay side by side under the clear, sunny sky. It may have been the tale-end of November, but it fairly warm for the day. The sun was almost hot on our faces. The silence between us wasn’t awkward. It was just another thing to be shared and enjoyed between us.

Eventually, Bryan rolled onto his side, “Thanks for inviting me over. With Mom gone and Granny, well, being Granny, today would have sucked a big one if you hadn’t invited me over.”

I rolled onto my side, facing him. His brown eyes held flecks of gold, making them softer than I’d noticed before. My lips touched his for a moment. “After putting up with my mom, I’d like to suck your big one.”

Bryan’s eyes bulged as a smile crept across his face at the same time he flushed red. “You know I’m not very big.”

I pushed him flat against the sleeping bag and crawled on top of him. There was a thrill being in the open air, atop the treehouse. But the way the branches spread out, and the distance between us and anything else, the only way anyone would have seen us is to have flown overhead. It was a risk I was willing to take.

I kissed him harder this time, pushing my tongue through his parted lips. When the kiss ended, I tugged at his shirt, untucking it before I pulled it off and lay it beside us. When I unbuttoned his slacks, Bryan said, “You gonna strip me naked out here?”

I felt heat between my legs. I needed him so much. “Yeah. How else can I suck your big one?” Then, aware of being exposed to nature, I added, “That okay with you?”

He just nodded, moving his hands away from his waist. Once I had unfastened his belt and zipper, I pulled his pants down, catching his underwear, too. Once I placed the rest of his clothes on top of his shirt, I leaned back to admire this gorgeous boy. Six months may have passed since I dragged him out of the Angelina River, and seeing him exposed now, he was a shade taller than that first time. His dick was slightly thicker and longer. But as I ran my hand across his pubic bone, he was as smooth as could be.

A hint of sweat hit my tongue as I licked at his glans. Bryan gasped, “Oh, God, that feels good.”

I loved his sounds. I was more vocal when we had sex, but under the right set of circumstances, Bryan got loud, too. My lips slid down his shaft. Even after several months, the contradiction between soft and hard mesmerized me. His skin was silky soft when I ran my tongue along the underside of his erection. Yet, the blood-engorged muscles underneath were rock hard. When my upper lip touched the place where his shaft and pubic area met, I clamped down and sucked.

“Fuck!” Bryan moaned, “That feels really good.”

The amount of chatter about sex in the eighth-grade girls’ locker room is higher than most adults realize or they’ve simply forgotten. But I’d heard Cheryl bragging to one of her girlfriends about giving one of the ninth graders a blow job. She told them the two worst parts were trying to take all the fourteen-year-old boy’s dick into her mouth without gagging, and the bitterness of his semen when he came. Neither was a problem for me. Bryan might have been longer than three inches, or he might not. It was close. But his dry cums were the best. The thrumming and pulsating of his orgasms in my mouth made me wet with desire, and now I could scarcely wait for that moment under the open sky.

I bobbed, pulling up, dragging his slick, small cock through my lips until his glans pressed against my lips. Then I sank down, keeping my lips tight enough to create lots of friction as his erection slid through. My tongue never stopped moving. When his glans was at my lips, my tongue swiped across his tiny slit. When I had his three inches reaching in vain for my throat, my tongue worked along his shaft, teasing out more delightful moans.

He ran his fingers through my short hair and grabbed onto a handful as he thrust his hips against my mouth. “Jeez, Erin. This is in-, incredible.”

I pulled up, leaving his wet, glistening protrusion bouncing between us. I felt something overwhelming me. I wanted Bryan more right then than I’d wanted him before. And I’d wanted him plenty badly before. Maybe it was stupid of me, but leaned forward and kissed him again, and then put my mouth by his ear. My body trembled with yearning as I whispered, “I love you, Bryan Clark.”

His eyes were round, stunned at my admission. The expression softened into a grin as he grabbed the hem of my blouse and pulled up on it. I helped him pull it off, revealing the slinky material of my training bra. Aside from the visit to the clothing store where we bought it, this was the first time Bryan had seen me in it.

His fingers brushed against the white fabric. It was thick but not padded. Enough to hide my budding nipples when worn under most of my shirts. I could feel his touch and a jolt of pleasure spread from the nipple through the rest of my body. I reached behind me and fumbled with the clasp until I undid it and let my bra slide down my arms.

Bryan drank in my buds with his eager eyes. My nipples were still small, maybe a bit larger than his boyish ones. My areolas were also larger, but not by much. It was the swelling just under my buds that made me need to start wearing a bra. Those gentle swells under my tits weren’t much, but the difference compared to six months before was one Bryan couldn’t help but notice as he stared at me.

I wore a pair of slacks, black as opposed to Bryan’s khaki ones. When his fingers drifted from my tits to my waist, I knew what he wanted. I stood long enough to strip the rest of the way. For the briefest of moments, I looked around at our little make-believe kingdom that was bounded on one side by the river and the other side by the gravel road. All I could see were the tops of more trees. Then I looked back at the boy who had captured my heart. He stared at my puffy slit between my legs. There was some small part of me that wondered when I’d start getting hair down there. After all, I was closer to fourteen than thirteen now. But the look on Bryan’s face pushed the thought aside. We were as like a pair as could be, and I wanted nothing to get in the way. Not yet.

I straddled him, sitting on his upper chest, facing away from him. And I leaned back over and took him in my mouth again. As I leaned over, I pushed my ass up and toward his face. It wasn’t that he had never eaten me out. Far from it. But we had always taken turns. I’d give him a blow job, sometimes he would return the favor and eat me out. Sometimes, I wanted more, and I’d take him and fuck him like I was riding a bucking bronco. This was different.

As my lips slid over his cock, taking all of him in, Bryan tentatively put his hands on my hips and pushed his face between my legs. I felt his hot breath on my pussy an instant before his tongue slid between my lips and found my vagina.

I was wet and soon his lips were drenched in my juices, but I never wavered in the attention I lavished on his little pole. Even as he sent tendrils of ecstasy through me, I polished his nob and pole with every bit of skill I possessed. A couple of minutes later, his tongue stopped moving and Bryan moaned against the back side of my slit, “Fuck, I’m gonna…”

I knew what to expect. Had felt it dozens of times before. But it never gets old. I wanted to feel his dick thicken at that moment of heavenly bliss and spasm inside my mouth, kicking and jerking about as he dry cums.

I pushed down, clamping my lips around his rod, and sucked and worked my tongue, waiting for that moment. He grunted. His dick grew even harder. He spasmed in my mouth and something hot and sweetly tart hit my tongue as he let out a surprised yelp.

If I hadn’t been so horny, if I hadn’t needed him so much, I would have pulled back in that moment. Instead, I swallowed that droplet of his nascent seed. In the back of my mind, I thought about what Cheryl had said about her experience with her fourteen-year-old boyfriend, take that, you bitch! Bryan was nothing like that other boy. It was but a drop, but it was a sweetness I wanted to experience over and over.

Finally, he pushed me off. His penis still twitched as he said, “Holy shit! It’s sensitive as hell. Did I just, um, cum for real?”

I rolled off and turned around and kissed him, sharing a taste of his little treat with him, “You sure did.”

He blushed, “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know that was gonna happen.”

I put my hand on his chest and pushed him back against the sleeping bag, “Don’t be. I liked it.”

The worry disappeared from his face. He smiled as the implications of what he’d just done finally dawned on him, “Erin, I actually came. Before, I thought it felt good. But that time, what you did, it was unbelievable.”

I nestled against him, propped up with one elbow, the other arm draped across his narrow chest, “And I got to be here and experience it with you. That was fucking hot, Bry.”
I almost told him I could hardly wait for him to cum inside me. Sure, he had dry cummed inside me lots, but the next time would be the real deal. He must have been thinking along the same lines.

“Does this mean we can’t have sex anymore?”

I knew little about when a boy becomes able to get a girl pregnant. But I hadn’t experienced a period yet and figured it wasn’t something I had to worry about until then. “No way, Bry. You’re my boyfriend. We’re gonna keep doing it.”

“But what if I get you pregnant? What would happen then?”

I explained about my period, about being too young to get pregnant. I also told him about birth control pills.

The aftermath of his first wet orgasm soon hit, and Bryan yawned and closed his eyes. I slid my leg along his and cuddled against him, joining him in a late afternoon nap.

When I woke, the sun was heading toward the western horizon. Erin’s head was on my shoulder. A bit of drool ran down my side. Her leg draped over my leg and her slit was against my hip. Despite a slight chill to the air, as the sun’s mild intensity dissipated, I smiled. At first, I had freaked out when I came in her mouth. But I should have known better. Like always, Erin set my mind at ease.

With Mom and Jimmy Todd nowhere to be found, Granny didn’t seem to miss me much when I was gone. She had just nodded from her La-Z-Boy when I told her that morning I was spending the night over at Erin’s. Well, Eric’s. Spending the night with each other during the school year was harder than we had anticipated, even with an apathetic and drunk mom on Erin’s side, and a disinterested granny on mine. That’s why I really looked forward to that four-day weekend.

Thanks to a summer largely spent shirtless and sometimes even naked, our tans hadn’t faded so much that by November we were still brown enough that the weak autumn sun hadn’t burned us. But now that it was retreating, I wanted more warmth. I untangled myself from Erin and slipped down the ladder and grabbed the second sleeping bag. Back on the roof, I spread the second bag over Erin and then slid in between the two bags.

“Mmm, that’s nice,” she murmured, “I wondered where you disappeared to. Thought I’d have to get up and go find you.”

Once I was under the cover of the sleeping bag, Erin snuggled against me again. The way her hand snaked across my chest sent a shiver through my body and made my little noodle stiff. She lay on her side, her budding boob pressed against my side. Her leg slid over mine and my stiffy twitched when I felt the heat of her smooth sex against my hip again.

The sun fades fast during late fall and soon reds and oranges replace the yellow sun. It dropped a few more degrees, but snuggled between our sleeping bags, with Erin pressed against me, I was warm. As the stars blinked into existence, her hand slid down my stomach and found my stiffy, “Hmm, hot and horny?”

I giggled and rolled onto my side, facing her. Her lips were close to mine. Her kiss sent a thrill through me. She wiggled her hips, making me hyperaware of our bodies. Her puffy nipples pushed against my chest. Our stomachs, still satisfied with our Thanksgiving dinner, touched. My stiffy lay flat between our bodies, and our legs touched. I rested my free hand behind her head, “Uh huh. Your body feels awesome.”

She reached between us and gently wrapped her fingers around me before pushing my stiffy between her legs. It was like an inverted hotdog. Her puffy lips were the bun and my stiffy the wiener. She rocked her hips back and forth, sending jolts of pleasure through me as she coated me with her slick juices. Before I could figure out what I should do next, she rolled on top of me and kissed me before putting her knees on both sides of my hips.

With a skill born of practice, she used her fingers to guide my stiffy to her opening and slid onto me with a moan of pleasure. I had discovered on my own that I could certainly jack myself raw if I tried too many times on my own. But since being with Erin, I had yet to experience too much sex. The feeling of her pushing up, drawing my stiffy along her tight and slick walls was pure bliss. It was only equaled when she lowered herself onto me, burying all of my stiffy inside her.

She moaned as she pulled up, “Fuck a duck, Bry, dunno why, but it feels even better than usual. Gotta be the anticipation of you squirting in me.”

Just talking about that made the familiar tingle in the base of my stiffy come to life. With each thrust up and down, it grew like a burning ember, warming and thrilling me. When Erin gave a guttural moan, her body shook. Her pussy undulated around my stiffy, and that was it for me. My balls constricted and my stiffy swelled and the most intense pleasure filled my body as I felt that little drop of cum speed through my urethra and shoot deep inside Erin. It may have only been a single drop, but to me, I felt like a man as she moaned as her orgasm continued.

I was spent by the time she stopped moving and collapsed onto me. She found her voice first, “I felt you, Bry. I felt something warm fill me when you came. It made me cum again and again.”

I smiled at her, “You felt even better than normal too.”

She slid from me after a bit and we cuddled under the warmth of the sleeping bag. We were far enough out of town and Zavalla was a small enough town that the sky was awash in stars. It was something to behold.

Erin’s hand, slick with sweat, found my chest again. “Your heart’s racing, Bry. And here I thought I was doing all the work.”

I rested my hands on top of hers, “If you want, I can climb on top.”

She leaned in and kissed me, “Maybe later, my lovely stud. For now, I just want to enjoy the moment.”

That wonderful silence filled the night air. Eventually Erin said, “I wanted today to be special. It’s our first real holiday together. I was so worried Mom was going to fuck it up, but even after she got drunk, we still managed to have a great evening.”

I shifted, trying to be even closer to her, although our bodies were already touching. “And it’s not over yet, Erin. And we’ve got three more days after that to have fun this weekend.”

Her fingers found my penis. So soon after the most incredible orgasm, I was soft. She played with it until I was hard again, “That’s true. Christmas is just around the corner. We gotta figure it out, but I want you to spend Christmas eve with us because I want to see you bright and early Christmas morning.”

Where she found the energy I don’t know, but not even ten minutes after finishing me off, she slid back onto my waist. This time, we made love slowly. I came again a bit later. We fell asleep that night on the roof of her treehouse after making love four times that night.

Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

The Treehouse – Chapter 9

The Treehouse – Chapter 9

The bell rang. I grabbed my trapper-keeper and hurried toward the door. The day had dragged on and on. I guess that’s to be expected on the first day back. I hurried to my locker, where I dropped off the notebook and textbook. There was no homework yet, so I left my backpack in the locker, slammed the door, and spun the lock. I was in a hurry to get to the bus parking lot.

“Well, if it’s not Ms. Ironing board herself,” a voice from a few lockers over grabbed my attention. I wanted to tell Cheryl to fuck off. But there were open classroom doors nearby and teachers didn’t put up with that kind of language.

I frowned, “You still here? I’d have figured you’d be dead from all the STDs you caught from the boy’s football team.”

She slammed her locker, “Same buttoned-down shirt, same blue jeans, same flat chest. And without Wendy’s face to suck this year, it’s going to be a long, lonely year for you.”

As I strode past her, I barely resisted the urge to push her into the lockers. I contented myself with another comeback, “Whatever. Why don’t you get off your feet and get back to work?”

I was halfway down the hall, when she shouted, “At least my mom’s not the town drunk.”

I stumbled and turned. How in the hell could Cheryl know? “What’d you say?”

She swung her backpack over one shoulder and walked past me, her wide hips swinging seductively for the boys in the hallway to see, “My cousin owns Rebel Liquor. Sees your lush of a mom coming in every few days buying booze. He said to thank her for keeping him in business.”

Mom was my responsibility and my shame. I hated Cheryl more than ever as I ran past her. My eye stung as I blinked away tears when I reached the parking lot. School buses lined the sidewalk in front of the junior high. I scanned the area and found my bus. As I jogged over, my eyes fell on Bryan. His face lit up when he saw me. He had changed little over the past three months. His hair was slightly longer, just past his shoulders. His green eyes sparkled like morning dew, “Hey, Erin. How was the first day back?”

I slid my hand into his, “Come on, Bry. Let’s find a seat. I’ll tell you about it on the bus.”

As I climbed onto the bus, Cheryl got into her mom’s Monte Carlo. When Bryan pulled me into an empty seat, he said, “What’s wrong?”

I hated how Cheryl had gotten under my skin. The bitch had no right. I squeezed the boy’s hand, “Cheryl just being Cheryl.”

He accepted the comment. Over the summer, we talked about everything. So, he knew how the popular girl and I traded insults. I changed the subject, “How was the first day of the seventh grade?”

Bryan shrugged, “I’ve had worse. When Danny called me names, I just thought about you.”

I hated how Bryan was teased. I had tried to talk him into cutting his hair, even though I liked its silky length. My hands ran through it over the weekend when we last spent the night in the treehouse together. I knew how the boys in Zavalla could be, and I wanted him to fit in and not get teased.

I shook my head, “Danny’s a douche. And unlike him, you have a girlfriend.”

I loved how Bryan’s heart-shaped face lit up. He was the best thing to happen to me since my dad died; over the summer, our worlds revolved around each other. We didn’t say much after that. The bus was pretty crowded, and we just kept to ourselves until the bus rolled to a stop at the end of the dusty road leading to our houses.

When the bus pulled away, kicking up a cloud of dust and diesel fumes, I slid my hand back into Bryan’s. “You want to come over? We can fix supper and hang out at the treehouse after.”
He squeezed my hand, “That’d be cool. I should let my granny know, so she’s not expecting me until later.”

“What about your mom?”

Bryan scoffed, “She’s picking up more shifts at the diner and hanging out with Jimmy Todd. Even if she was home, she wouldn’t pay me any mind. Yours?”

My skin grew warm, and it wasn’t from the hot September afternoon. I could have slapped Cheryl into the next county when she brought my mom into our spat. If anything, Mom had become even less able over the summer, lost in the misery and her booze. “We should check on her before supper.”

When we reached the rundown trailer, I followed Bryan inside. A window unit blew icy air across the living room, where his granny sat in her old recliner watching TV. I’d been there before. Dressed in a boy’s shirt and blue jeans and with my hair cut short, his granny thought I was just some boy Bryan had befriended. He went over to her, “Hey Granny, I’m going over to Eri-, Eric’s for a while. I’ll be home later.”

His granny reluctantly tore her rheumy eyes away from the television box and looked at the two of us. She drawled, “Don’t stay out too late.”

It never failed to amaze me how similarly Bryan and I were raised despite him living in a shitty trailer and me living in a nice three-bedroom ranch style home. We had spent the summer raising ourselves. And judging by what I saw at that moment, we were going to keep on raising ourselves. Not that I minded. I preferred the apathy on his granny’s face to involvement. Our relationship depended on our families’ self-absorption and indifference.

We walked the rest of the way to my house, bypassing the trail through the woods and the tree house. The road was more direct; faster. As we walked hand-in-hand down the drive, the sad state of the yard made me feel embarrassed. Not because it was worse than the weed-choked yard in front of Bryan’s trailer, but because of how far things had fallen since my dad’s death. He always took care of the front yard, cutting it every week or two. Now, the grass struggled against knee-high weeds. Even the house had an air of neglect. The paint on the shutters on either side of the front windows was flaking. The wooden trim desperately needed a fresh coat of paint.

I muttered, “She gets that life insurance money every month and social security for me. She could pay to have someone come and mow this place, slap some paint on the house, too. Instead, it’s Jim Beam, Jack Daniels and Jose Cuervo.”

Bryan’s fingers gripped mine, “It’s okay, Erin. It’s not your fault. And about five minutes ago, we both saw worse, right?”

A thin, painful smile worked its way across my face. I missed my dad so much at that moment. But seeing into Bryan’s aqua green eyes, I was thankful for him. I took his other hand in mine and stood beside my house and leaned in and kissed him. Sweat bathed our upper lips; our kiss was salty. But nothing made me feel better than this newly minted twelve-year-old. He was the one person who understood me.

When the kiss ended, he smiled up at me, “Well, maybe we can do something about it this weekend.”

He’s the one who pulled me the rest of the way around the house to the back door. It amazed me how a boy a year and a half younger than me could so effortlessly get me when nobody else did, and I let myself be pulled along.

We shivered when that first blast of arctic air hit us in the face. I wasn’t sure how Mom kept it so cold. I didn’t see her paying the bills, but figured somehow or another, through her drunken haze, she managed. After all, she also got to the grocery and liquor stores, too. Fuck Cheryl for reminding me that others saw the same thing.

Mom was in her place on the couch. The TV was on some soap opera. A TV dinner was on the coffee table, along with a couple of empty beer bottles. She opened her bleary eyes and looked up, “Hey, Erin. How was day? You kids go canoeing?”

After the entire summer, at least she remembered Bryan. I shook my head, “First day of school.”

She blinked her eyes in confusion, “Is it already that time? I-, I should take you shopping for school clothes.”

I shrugged, “Don’t you remember? You took me shopping a couple of weeks ago.”

It was a lie, but her memory was so bad, there was no point telling her how I lifted some money from her purse a couple of weeks before and went shopping for clothes with Bryan.
“I should have gotten you some better clothes. You look like a boy in that shirt, those pants.” There was more blinking as she marshaled her thoughts, “Did we pick you out a training bra? You’re thirteen…”

Her eyes glazed over and her brow furrowed, “And a half. You really want to start taking care of your appearance. Otherwise, boys won’t want anything to do with you.”

I lied again, “Yeah, we did.”

Bryan leaned against the frame of the doorway between the living and dining rooms. He snickered at the exchange. I shot him a dirty look.

Mom sank back against the sofa, “I’m going to watch the rest of this show. Be an angel and fetch me another Lone Star from the fridge.”

I turned and pushed Bryan toward the kitchen. His snicker turned into a giggle. “You in a bra?”

Had it been anyone other than Bryan, the comment would have hurt. But over the past ninety days, he’d seen my chest so many times, it didn’t matter that he laughed. I knew his heart. I opened the fridge, flipped him the bird along with a smile before grabbing a couple of beers.

After dropping the beers off with Mom, we headed back to my bedroom. Once the door was closed, I pulled Bryan to me and we kissed. For kids our age, three months can make an enormous difference in development and growth. Some boys in my class had grown half a foot over the summer. Some girls had gone up a cup size. I grabbed the hem of Bryan’s shirt and lifted it over his head. He may have added an inch to his height over the summer. It was difficult to tell, because I had also grown a bit taller.

I sat on my bed and drew him to me, working his zipper down with my practiced fingers, until his white briefs came into view.

He stammered, “Y-your mom!”

“She’ll drink those beers and then pass out, Bry. I want- I need this.”

The familiar bulge in his underwear sent a surge of desire through me, and I pushed his blue jeans down before grabbing his underwear and pushing everything down below his knees. His three inches pointed toward the ceiling, quivering in the cool air. His scent intoxicated me, and I was entranced by the smooth nail of flesh bobbing before my eyes.

I grabbed his butt-cheeks and pulled him toward me as I opened my mouth. I let his forward motion do the work and when I closed my mouth, my lips sealed around the silky-smooth base of his dick. Some part of me basked in the pleasure of the boy’s largely unchanged body. In the back of my mind, I knew neither of our bodies would remain unchanged and prepubescent for long. Sure, I was still closer to thirteen than fourteen. But with each passing month, the odds of those changes only increased. Still, I wasn’t sure how I would respond to those changes when they finally arrived.

I pushed those thoughts aside as Bryan’s hips rocked back, sliding his three inches until only his glans remained trapped between my lips. He hissed in pleasure as my hands on his butt pulled him back to my face. I loved his taste; the hint of boyish odor mixed with the salt from his sweat drove my desire. Over the summer, I learned to use my tongue, my mouth’s natural suction, and the stimulation of moving him in and out to bring him to orgasm.

His pubic bone pushed against my nose while my tongue licked the underside of his boner, when he grabbed my short hair and pulled me even closer. His dick grew harder and then his body shook, radiating from his pulsating erection. I kept sucking and licking with each blank eruption until he sagged against me, drawing in ragged breathes after his dry cum.

While I trusted Mom to finish her beers before passing out, I didn’t want to delay in my bedroom too long. “Undress me, Bry. Show me you remember what I taught you about my body.”
Bryan’s eyes lit up and, still naked, he worked the buttons on my shirt loose and then pushed it off my shoulders. He stopped undressing me long enough to cup my buds in his hands, “Your nipples are bigger, Erin.”

There was a faint hint of swelling under my nipples; a promise of more growth to come. Maybe not buying a training bra when we went to the store was a mistake. But if it was, it was one for the future. I leaned my head back as Bryan worked my jeans down my legs. His eyes gleamed as he stared at the indention created by my slit in my panties. I loved the goofy smile on his lips, “Come on, Bry, take ‘em off.”

The boy made quick work of my panties. I sat on the edge of my bed and lay my head back. He spread my legs, giving him total access to parts with which he’d already grown familiar. When I felt his hot breath on my bald slit, I bit back a moan. He hadn’t even touched me and already I was wet and wanted him to pleasure me like I did him.

His tongue touched me, sliding between my outer lips, sending a shiver through me. It wasn’t the first time he’d eating me, but feeling his tongue on my outer pussy nearly gave me a little orgasm. He flicked the tip of his tongue across the nub of my clit. I moaned, “Fuck, again, Bry, again.”

His small tongue lapped and licked my nub, drawing out of me the tension of the day; making me forget about Cheryl. He was like a wave lapping against the shore, crashing against an invisible barrier. Each flick of his tongue sent a surge of energy through me, threatening to overwhelm the barrier. Then, with another flick of his tongue, Bryan did it. I shuddered, clamping his head between my legs. I moaned loud enough that I prayed Mom was too drunk to recognize an orgasm.

My juices seeped from my pussy; Bryan stopped working my clit as he moved deeper within my gash, lapping up my strong flavor. After another shuddering orgasm, I’d taken all the pleasure my body could stand, and I released his head and let him fall away.

When I sat up, I grinned. From the tip of his nose to the bottom of his chin, his face was slick with my juices. His grin matched mine. “Fuck, Bry, that was incredible.”

He licked his lips, “I like your taste, Erin. It’s kinda weird, but still good.”

I’ve tasted myself a few times and for me, it was definitely an acquired taste. “Really?”

He flushed, “It’s kinda strong, like Tang. But what makes it better is because it’s you.”

After smacking his lips a few more times, he grabbed his clothes and went into the bathroom, leaving me to wipe myself clean and get dressed. When he came back out dressed in his school clothes, we hugged and kissed. There was a hint of musk in the air and it sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine, knowing what caused it. “Come on, Bry. Let’s go fix supper.”

Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

The Treehouse – Chapter 8

The Treehouse – Chapter 8


The wall beside my bed shook. I grabbed my pillow and pulled it over my head. But it wasn’t enough to block out the noise.

Mom’s voice was loud, “Harder, Jimmy Todd. Fuck me harder!”

Her bed slammed against the shared wall. A man’s voice growled, “Goddamn, you’re horny tonight, Diane.”

Mom’s voice fell and I couldn’t make out her words, not that I wanted to. She and her current fuck-buddy had only been in her room for a bit. I couldn’t shake the feeling they’d be at it for a while. I rolled onto my side. The clock read one-thirty in the morning. I swore silently. There was no way I was going to get any sleep with what was going on in the room next to mine.

I hadn’t wanted to be there. Since taking a shower together a few days before, I had spent the night over at Erin’s place the past couple of nights. I would still be there, sleeping in the treehouse, next to her, except her mom showed up outside the treehouse around dinner time, cussing up a storm, “Get your ass down here, Erin! The kitchen’s a mess and by God, we’re going to spend some time together this evening. You’re not going to hide out here while I’m sitting at home all alone. Come on, get your ass down from there.”

We both peered down at her mom, who was holding a bottle of beer in one hand and swaying from side to side.

Erin pulled back, “Oh, shit. I’ve gotta go deal with this, Bry. Maybe tomorrow, okay?”

She was gone in a flash, yelling, “Coming, Mom. I cleaned the kitchen this morning.”

I waited until the voices receded before climbing down and hurrying home. And now, I wished more than anything I had just stayed.

Bam! The wall shuddered as Mom moaned, “God, make me cum, Jimmy Todd.”

I was done. I couldn’t take any more. I rolled out of bed and found my cut-offs on the floor where I left them and slipped them on. I pulled on my Keds and grabbed a t-shirt and slipped from my room. Mom and Jimmy Todd were going at it as I slinked past her door. Granny could have slept through an F-5 tornado, so she was nowhere to be seen when I slipped through the living room and out the front door.

The worst of the summer heat was gone this late at night. I slung the t-shirt over my shoulder and started walking. Barely two weeks into the summer, but I had every step to Erin’s treehouse stored in my memory and I made good time, even under the cloud-covered sky.

The treehouse was dark when I arrived. Climbing the ladder was the work of a few seconds and I knocked on the door, softly calling, “Erin, you there?”

Silence filled the night. A glance toward her house revealed nothing but shadows. I knocked a second time, “Erin?”

I pushed at the door and it swung open. It was nearly pitch black. I took a step into the room and the boards creaked beneath my feet.

“Bry?” came a tired voice, “You okay?”

A moment later, I heard her moving around. A lit match pierced the gloom. A moment later, the lantern came to life, chasing shadows away. Erin held the lantern and faced me. Her face was etched with concern as her eyes seemed to take all of me in. I was in nothing but my Keds and cut-offs. The t-shirt was still cast over one shoulder. She wore a pair of white cotton panties.

“Yeah. I, um, I couldn’t stay at the trailer. Mom brought a guest and they, um…”

My words failed. Erin was the brash one, I the more reserved. She set the lantern on the Formica-topped table, “They were fucking? Keeping you awake?”

I nodded as she crossed the room and took my hand, “Sorry about earlier. Mom had an episode. She thought Dad had just died, and was worried about me.”

I let her lead me to the mattress, “She okay?”

Erin unzipped her sleeping bag, “Okay? Fuck, I don’t know what that looks like anymore, Bry. But she started drinking after dinner. She’s shit-faced drunk on the couch. Okay, no. But back to normal… shit, whatever that even means anymore. I could hardly wait to get out of the house. I was afraid you wouldn’t come back until sometime tomorrow. Even if it was because your mom and her boyfriend were fucking next door, I’m glad you slipped away.”

She spread the open sleeping bag, covering the entire mattress. I felt a flutter in my stomach; the times we slept in the treehouse, we’d only done so each in our own sleeping bag. She unzipped the second sleeping bag and spread it across the lower one, making a bed for us. When she saw my slack jaw, she flashed me a grin, “After all the shit with Mom, I need to be closer, Bry. Tonight, I want you to hold me and I’ll hold you.”

She grabbed the t-shirt from my shoulder and tossed it to the floor, “Come on, let’s get you ready for bed.”

Next, her fingers grabbed my zipper and, with a degree of skill I hadn’t expected, had my shorts around my ankles, leaving me in just my white briefs. Despite the fluttering, Erin’s speed at stripping me meant my body had yet to respond. I wasn’t yet stiff. If she had stopped there, we might have crawled into bed, cuddled a little and fallen asleep.

She grabbed the elastic band of my briefs and pulled them down. She pushed me onto the mattress, and removed my shoes and the clothes from my ankles and then stripped her panties off before pulling back part of the top sleeping bag, “Come on, Bry, let’s go to bed.”

The way she said the word ‘bed’ finished what her pulling on my underwear started. My stiffy poked toward the ceiling as I followed her lead and climbed between the bedspread made by the two sleeping bags. No sooner had I laid my head on the mattress than Erin snuggled against me. She purred, “You’re nice and warm, Bry. Hold me, please.”

I was putty in her hands, and I wrapped my arms around her back. Her chest rested again against mine, and my stiffy lay flat and hard between our pubic bones. I was getting used to her body against mine. Even so, I was tongue tied, and didn’t know what to say. At eleven, I liked how Erin dominated our relationship. It was something simple I could understand.

Erin’s hand brushed my hair away, her fingers playing with the back of my neck, “If I told you you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?”

We were cuddled together. At first, I was confused. Then I recalled a song I’d heard on the radio recently, similarly named, and I realized Erin’s double meaning. “Yeah. I’d do it like this.”
I squeezed my arms, giving her enough of a bear hug to make her squeal. When she caught her breath, she continued quoting the song to me, “If I said you were an angel, would you treat me like the devil tonight?”

I was eleven, and had only heard the song a few times on the radio. Moreover, I didn’t really understand the power dynamic between me and Erin. But I was eleven and old enough to catch the sexual energy in the words.

I couldn’t get any stiffer. My mouth felt dry, “What would I need to do to treat you like a devil?”

Erin leaned in, brushed her lips on mine before whispering, “Let’s make love right now, Bry.”

I couldn’t believe my ears, even though our bodies were melded together. “N-now?”

Her lips pressed against mine. “Yes. Can you think of another way for us to be closer?”

My stiffy twinged between our bodies. The idea of putting it inside Erin electrified at least one part of me, and I wanted what she wanted. “O-, okay.”

She rolled onto her back. I knew enough to know I needed to get between her legs and put my stiffy inside her slit. I rolled onto my knees and moved over her until I felt my stiffy poke against her puffy lips. I moved my hips, pushing. My stiffy slid along her lips, which were slick with wetness. But no matter how I moved my butt around, I couldn’t get it in.

“Here, Bry. Let me help.”

Erin reached between us, sending an electric thrill through me when her fingers wrapped around my stiff. The tingling intensified when my glans slid through her slick lips. A moment later, she guided me into her vagina. My tip slid between her tight walls, which seemed to suck at me, pulling me deeper as my pubic bone meshed against hers.

I gasped at the intensity. No stranger to stimulating myself, or even being stimulated by another person, this was an intensity of another level. I lay atop her, buried to the hilt of my stiffy, and I had never felt more alive.

Erin grabbed my hips, “Move up and down. That’s how we fuck.”

I rocked my hips back, but I moved too far and my stiffy popped out. I growled with frustration as pushed my hips forward, but my stiffy slid through Erin’s inner folds.
Erin’s tone held a note of exasperation, “Let’s try it a different way.”

She pushed me until I had to move off her. “Lay down, Bry. I’m going to be on top.”

Girls could get on top? That was news to me. I traded places with Erin and she straddled me, her knees on either side of my hips, laying with my stiffy pinned against my abs. Flexing her knees, she rose and grabbed me. She pushed my stiffy between her legs until I felt the slickness of her lips. A moment later, she had me trapped within the confines of her pussy walls, sinking against me, taking all of me within her. She sighed, “Fuck, yeah. This feels really nice, Bry.”

Her knees moved, making her body rise a few inches. The walls of her vagina slid upward, dragging against my stiffy, sending tendrils of pleasure radiating from my tip, down through my shaft, through every inch of my body. I bit my lower lip as the tingling rose within me.

Erin pulled herself almost all the way off of me, leaving just my tip trapped within the confines of her walls. Then she fell against me, driving my stiffy as deep inside her as possible, again and again. Each time, my tingling grew until I squeezed my eyes shut as my stiffy spasmed within her. I wordlessly moaned, letting go of my lip as I tasted a hint of blood. That bit of pain was nothing compared to the fierce tingles shooting like electrical shocks of the most pleasurable kind through my body.

Erin collapsed against me while my stiffy kicked and shuddered against her insides. But once my empty eruption subsided, her knees flexed again. My penis was already sensitive and my eyes rolled back in my head as she kept sending me into sensory overload. My stiffy never flagged as Erin rose and fell. My needs were sated, but hers bubbled to the surface.

“Gotta…cum!” Erin moaned as our bodies squished together, wet with her juices.

Slap! Slap! She landed on me, sending muted tingles creeping out of my still hard penis. That my body was still responding to Erin as her pussy undulated, slickly gripping my shaft with her every motion, was a revelation. Those times with Davy, and then recently with Erin, I had gotten my cum and that had been it. I knew if the girl didn’t cum soon, she would eventually take me back to that point again. God, how I hoped she wasn’t close, no matter how loud she grew with each downward thrust.

Another minute passed, and the tingles coursing through me were no longer muted. My brain was nearly mush as Erin groaned, “Ah, fuck! Fuck! I’m c-, cumming!”
I couldn’t imagine the sopping wetness could get more wet, but we did. Erin slammed down on me, wordlessly moaning. It wasn’t as intense, but my second orgasm still sent my stiffy kicking and spasming inside her. Erin shuddered, her knees shook, barely rising and falling. But it was enough for her tight, soaking tunnel to undulate around my spastic stiffy.

Like a wet doll, she collapsed on top of me, her face nuzzled between my neck and shoulder. I could feel her heart racing against my chest as her lips sought mine out. She pressed them against mine, kissing me again and again until our lips were chapped.

The warmth of the night felt almost cool when she finally slid off, snuggling against me. Her arm lay across my bare chest and she whispered, “Fuck, I needed that. I need you, Bry. Will you be my boyfriend?”

Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

« Older posts

© 2024 Jason Crow

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑