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Day: December 24, 2021 (Page 1 of 2)

The Treehouse – Chapter 5

The Treehouse – Chapter 5

When I reached the ground, the rain fell gently, like any other summer rain. While I needed to pee, the idea of seeing Bryan pee was all I could think about. Can boys pee with a boner? He fascinated me, and I couldn’t shake the image of his boner popping into view earlier. While I had nothing to compare it to, I liked it even more than I had enjoyed seeing Wendy naked. And that was quite a bit.

I waited for Bryan to reach the ground before I asked, “Can I watch you pee?”

He scrunched his eyebrows, confused. I added, “I’ve never seen a boy pee before.”

“Um, I guess so.”

I ignored the doubt in his voice, and said, “I’ll show you how I do it.”

Bryan responded enthusiastically, “Okay!”

He stepped around the tree and took hold of his still erect penis as I looked on. He stared down for a bit until a dribble of urine fell from his penis. The dribble turned into a light flow before finally turning back into a dribble. He finally glanced over at me, “It’s difficult to pee when I got a stiffy. Your turn.”

I thought it was cute that he peed against the tree. It reminded me of a puppy marking his territory for the first time. I said, “Crouch down and I’ll show you what it looks like when I pee.”
Bryan squatted in front of me. Usually, when I peed outside, I would pull my shorts and panties down and squat to do my business. Naked, I didn’t need to do that. I took a step closer to Bryan and then spread my legs. When I looked down, a thrill went through me. His face was a handsbreadth away from my pussy when I started.

The boy rewarded me with a loud gasp, followed by, “Holy shit. That’s cool!”

Once I finished, I reached down and took Bryan by the arms and pulled him to his feet. We were almost toe to toe. Only a few inches separated us, and when I glanced down and saw his penis pointing toward my face, I became hot with longing. Sure, I’d had powerful feelings for Wendy back before the end of school. But those feelings were nothing compared to what surged through me at that moment.

I moved my hands up and grabbed his arms, then I leaned toward him and kissed him.

Bryan jumped and his feet took a step back as the most surprised look crossed his features. “What?”

I just knew I had stepped in it. I let go of him, “Oh, fuck. I’m sorry, Bry. I should have asked. I just wanted to kiss you.”

He raised a hand to his face and his fingers played across his lips as the shocked look faded. “I-, uh, I’ve never been kissed, Erin.”

Mentally, I swore inside my head. I really had fucked up and ruined Bryan’s first kiss. “Dude, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. It’s just I really like you and thought you liked me, and thought you’d want…”

It wasn’t often I was at a loss for words, but I didn’t know how to make things right between us.

With a light rain falling and drenching us, he slowly closed the distance between us, stopping a couple of feet away, “You like me like that? Like me enough to kiss?”

He really didn’t have a clue what he was doing to me. His incredulous tone told me he hadn’t understood my feelings. Boys! Still, I liked this one more than I could understand. I nodded, “Yeah.”

The corners of his mouth slowly turned upward, “Wow. I like you too, Erin. A lot. Um, I wasn’t ready before, but if you want to kiss me again, you can.”

Funny, some girls would have been pissed the boy didn’t lead out. I actually liked how he asked me to try again. I stepped close until our toes touched. Much slower this time, I leaned in until I felt my lips on his. He puckered his lips, just like you’d expect a boy who had only seen kisses on TV would do. Thanks to my practice with Wendy, I kissed him the way I would want to be kissed.

It was awkward and ended in a heartbeat. But my lips tingled and my body felt like it was full of electricity. My voice was breathy, “How was that? Better?”

Bryan nodded, a look of wonder on his face, “Y-, yeah. That was really cool.”

A smile split my face, “I thought so too.”

I didn’t want this time to end. We were already soaked; we couldn’t get any wetter. I just wanted to walk hand-in-hand with him in the dark. Fortunately, the rain actually felt like a summer rain should now that the worst of the storm had passed. I slipped my hand into Bryan’s, “This is what a summer rain looks like. Let’s stay out here and enjoy it for a bit.”

After donning our soaked shoes, we walked through the thicket of trees, navigating around mud puddles while trying to stay on grass or pine needles. Erin never let go of my hand as she led me around. I was on cloud nine. I had actually kissed a girl! I could scarcely believe it. A real kiss. It amazed me that a pretty girl like Erin, who would be in the eighth grade once school started back up in the fall, would like a shrimp like me, who wouldn’t even turn twelve until the end of August.

Those thoughts took me back to when I was still in elementary school. My stepdad, Bill, told me not to look a gift horse in the mouth. The expression had confused me and he had to explain the idea behind the Trojan Horse. I still recalled my confused response, “But if letting the wooden horse into the city is what made their enemies win, why shouldn’t we look a gift horse in the mouth?”

Bill had just laughed and tousled my shaggy hair, “Good point. But here’s the deal, if something happening to you is good, try not to overthink things, and enjoy it.”

I was glad for the gentle rain. I looked into the night sky and let the rain wash away the tears. The way my mom ripped me away from my stepdad was still an open wound. But Bill was right. I shouldn’t overthink things. If Erin really liked me, who was I to complain? I thought she was just about the coolest person in my world. That didn’t really solve the confusion I felt inside, but it let me focus on enjoying the moment, walking hand-in-hand with this girl through the forest.

We eventually ended up back at the water’s edge. The Angelina River ran high. We found the canoe still tied to the tree, but partially submerged.

Erin broke our silence, “Come on, Bry, we need to get the canoe up onto the shore. We’re lucky it didn’t float away in the storm.”

Mostly full of water, the canoe didn’t look like it was going anywhere, but who was I to argue with the girl who taught me how to canoe? I followed her into the murky water. Erin pointed to the gunwale beside her, “Grab right here, Bry.”

Happy to do her bidding, I grabbed the ribbed aluminum, “Now what?”

She moved a few feet away from me and grabbed the same gunwale, “We need to turn the canoe onto its side. It’ll let most of the water out.”

I strained to lift our side of the canoe. Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought my muscles were getting stronger as we pulled the canoe onto its side. Erin scrambled to the bow, “Go to the stern, um, the back and push. I’ll pull it onto the shore.”

The canoe was easily fifteen feet long. By the time I reached the stern, I was chest deep in the murky water. My keds dug into the river bottom, but it was hard to find traction in the silty soil.

I did my best when Erin cried, “Push, Bryan!”

Despite the difficulty I had in finding traction on the river bottom, I still helped to inch the canoe forward. Once the aluminum bow crunched against the muddy back, Erin shouted, “Woo! We did it. Come around and help me pull it further.”

On my way around the side of the canoe, I lost my footing, and I sank below the surface with barely enough time to yelp. When I got my feet under me again and popped above the surface, Erin was splashing toward me, “Dude, you okay?”

I tossed my head back and forth, sending a cascade of water from my unruly hair, “Yeah. I just slipped.”

The water was waist deep on Erin when she reached me, “Thank God. I was about to shit my pants if something happened to you.”

She was standing in front of me, every bit as naked as I was. I couldn’t help but giggle, “That’d be hard to do. No pants in which to shit.”

Despite the gloom and rain, Erin’s cheeks were flushed, “Yeah. I guess not.”

I’m not sure if the water was warm or if we had gotten used to the weather, but I wasn’t in a hurry to go back to the shore. Not with Erin standing so close. We were far enough away from the faster flowing water in the middle of the river, and even though I could feel the current rushing past my legs, I felt safe enough where I stood. I splashed some water on Erin, “You ever swim out here on the river?”

Erin splashed me, “Sometimes. Have you ever gone skinny dipping?”

It was my turn to blush, “N-, no. You?”

Erin stepped closer as she splashed me again, “Once here. I almost got caught. There was an old codger on his fishing boat who motored by while I was swimming naked. I stayed with only my head above the water until he was gone.”

“You lucked out.”

Erin splashed me again and stepped closer until she was only inches away from me. My stomach fluttered at how close she stood and I’d gotten a stiffy again. She said, “Normally, when it’s not been raining, you can swim all the way across the river.”

I expected her to try to kiss me again. But when she launched toward me, she grabbed me by my shoulders and pulled me under. When we came up, she was laughing as she snaked her arms around my back. Our bodies pressed together. Her chest against mine, and my stiffy poking against her. The playful look on her face quickly faded, replaced by a surprised smile.

The look on Erin’s face only made me more aware of her buds pushing against my chest and my stiffy trapped between my abs and her pelvis. While the feeling surging through me was exciting, I didn’t know what to do.

Erin solved the dilemma. She leaned in and kissed me. This time, instead of puckering my lips, I tried to mirror her lips as they pressed to mine. It felt more natural than the first or second kiss. Apparently puckering your lips like a fish isn’t how you kiss. Who knew? My heart raced within my ribcage as Erin’s lips lingered on mine. I could taste the catsup and spices from the meatloaf in her kiss. A handful of heartbeats passed before Erin’s lips pulled back.

She was breathing heavy, “Damn, dude. You’re getting really good at kissing.”

I flushed at her praise, “I like kissing you.”

She gave me another peck on the lips and then released me from the intimate bear hug, “Cool. I like kissing you too. A lot. Let’s stop playing around and get this damned boat onto the shore.”

It took pushing and pulling, but we eventually pulled the canoe fully onto the shore, after which Erin said, “We’ll come down tomorrow and lug it back toward the house. This’ll work for now.”

She took my hand in hers again, “Come on, cutie, you ready to head back to the treehouse?”

Furiously flushing at the impromptu nickname, I fell into step beside her as we walked through the gently falling rain.

Back in the treehouse, Erin grabbed the towel, which was still pretty damp, and toweled herself dry. The way she wiped the cloth across her buds and then between her legs drew my eyes. Discovering how much I enjoyed seeing her made me feel good. Once she finished, she tossed the towel to me. I felt her eyes on my stiffy as I toweled off. By now, it was easy to resist the compulsion to cover myself in front of her. Even so, I couldn’t remember another time, not even when Davy and I had fooled around, where I’d been as stiff for as long as I had been that night.

As I toweled myself dry, Erin must have been reading my mind, “Um, Bri, do you get boners a lot?”

Hearing her call my stiffy a boner made me twitch. Sure, I had heard it called that by other boys in school. But until my sex-play with Davy, stiffies had been pretty uncommon. Now though, most mornings I woke up with one. Sure, Davy had taught me about jacking off, but there wasn’t much privacy in Granny’s trailer, and I couldn’t make the white stuff, so it had been a while since I had done anything.

There didn’t seem to be any reason to lie to Erin, “Sometimes. Why?”

She spread the sleeping bags over the mattress, “Just curious. The girls in my class talk about boys and their dicks a lot. But now, I’d never seen one. And you’re hard a lot.”

I wasn’t sure if she approved or disapproved of my frequent stiffies. A bit defensively, I replied, “Well, you’re looking at it and I get stiff when you do that.”

Erin stretched out on her sleeping bag, putting her buds and pussy on full display. She gave me a coy smile, “Does it bother you when I look at you? I like you seeing me like this.”
I was out of my element. I didn’t know what to do with her admission she liked me looking at her. Or that she clearly liked looking my stiffy. Even though there was an electrical current of excitement in being naked with her, I don’t know if my embarrassment entirely went away. But perhaps that embarrassment was partially responsible for those tingles and good feelings I felt from her gaze. I wanted to answer in a way that would make her happy. “N-, no. I don’t mind you looking. But I don’t think I can stop it from getting hard when you’re looking. That okay?”

A grin spread over Erin’s face, “Yeah. Like I said earlier, I think your, ah, dick is really cute. Especially when it’s hard like that.”

Even though the confusion didn’t go away, I felt my lips curl up on their own, “I think you’re really pretty too.”

Once I settled himself next to her on the mattress, she arched her back, pushed her chest out, “You can touch them if you want.”

I could scarcely believe I had the balls to tell Bryan he could touch my tiny buds. What was I thinking? Oh, I knew what I was thinking. Despite the things I had done with Wendy, despite the accusing stares of girls like Cheryl, I was falling for this eleven-year-old boy.

The offer caught Bryan off guard, “What?”

The look he gave me was one of shock; My confidence floundered and my smile faded, “Um, my tits. You can, if you want, touch them.”

Bryan leaned forward, his boner bobbed, and he stammered, “Really?”

Maybe I had misjudged the moment. I sat up a little straighter and leaned toward him, “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I said as my pulse raced, “It’s just I thought you liked looking at them and it’s kind of cool that you are, so I just wondered if you wanted to, um, touch ‘em.”

I don’t think Bryan had a conniving bone in his body, still I could see something of a calculating expression on his face as several seconds passed before he finally bobbed his head, “Okay.”

I inched toward him, closing the gap, and thrust my chest toward him. He hesitantly raised a hand and reached across the half-dozen inches separating us. A charge like an electrical current flowed through me as his finger brushed against one of my nipples. I knew I wasn’t anything to look at. The tips of my nipples were hardly any larger than Bryan’s. My areolas, such as they were, were not very distinct from my nipples, and only the skin under the nipple was slightly puffy. And all of this had started after my dad died; within the past month or two. I could still get away without wearing an undershirt and, according to Wendy, I was probably a year away from needing an honest-to-god bra.

I adored the look of wonder on Bryan’s face. As his finger touched me, they shook. This was affecting him every bit as much as it was me. I bit back a moan as he his voice tremored, “L-, like this?”

That moan slipped out as I nodded. “Y-, yeah. Like that. They’re really small right now. But they’ll eventually get bigger.”

Even though Bryan seemed to enjoy himself, I heard longing in my voice. I don’t know where it came from, but for this beautiful, lovely boy, I wished I was bigger, that I would have a figure to compete with other girls. I wanted to be the only girl he thought was sexy, and that just wasn’t my body. Not yet.

Bryan reached out with his other hand and his fingers brushed against both my nipples. That air of wonderment filled his voice, “I-, I think they’re beautiful, Erin. Thanks.”
I let my head fall back as he played with my slight buds. I was in heaven. For now, at least Bryan didn’t seem to care, and that was enough for my fragile sense of femininity. I murmured, “Cool. I’m glad you like them. They like your touch.”

My chest tingled, and I felt a familiar dampness between my legs. Oh, God, he was so turning me on. I looked down and saw his boner bobbing between us. Bryan deserved to know the pleasure his touch gave me. I put my hand on his leg, between his knee and hip, “Can I…”

If there was any chance he could misinterpret my stalled-out question, it evaporated when I slid my hand along his thigh. Bryan’s eyes flitted from my tits to his boner and back again before he breathed, “Y-, yeah.”

To show he wasn’t just going along, he spread his legs wide as he leaned back on his hands. He was completely exposed and open to me. I moved in until my face was less than a foot away. He was so hard. “Does it ever hurt when it gets like that?”

A smile played across the boy’s face, “Only when I get a stiffy in my pants. Even then, it doesn’t hurt that bad.”

It was my turn now. My fingers touched his helmet shaped glans. The tingle ran up my arm, through my body, and came to rest between my legs. Bryan’s eyes fluttered as a silent gasp slipped through his lips.

The tip of his finger was at once entirely foreign and yet achingly familiar to me. I didn’t begin to understand, except that I enjoyed touching him. “Your, um, thing, it feels spongy.”
Bryan breathed rapidly, “Yeah, but the rest is super stiff.”

Taking that as permission, my hand moved, my fingers sliding over the bulbous bullet-shaped head, the rough texture of where he had been circumcised, until I gently wrapped my fingers around the smooth hardness of his shaft; it was thicker than a Number 2 pencil, but a lot thinner than one of those fat pieces of chalk some teachers used; perhaps the side and length of my index finger. And I was in heaven as I slid my fingers up and down it a couple of times. Bryan hissed in pleasure.

My brain was in overload, “Oh, yeah. That’s fucking hard as a rock.”

Bryan giggled.

I looked up at his smiling face, “What?”

“You’re touching my stiffy and you said fuck.”

Our laughter was a catharsis; a bond between us. The look he gave me must have matched mine. We both wanted this. I slid along his shaft, “My friend Wendy has a cousin, Kyle. And one time, last summer, she caught him jacking off. Do you jack off?”

Bryan’s eyebrows knitted in thought. I had expected a simple yes or no. But after several heartbeats he nodded slightly, “Y-, yeah. My friend Davy taught me how before me and Mom moved here.”

I could tell from the way he said it, there was a lot that Bryan was skipping over. Who was I to judge or question him. After all, the intimacy I shared with Wendy is what gave me the confidence to let Bryan touch me.

I squeezed him just enough to pull the skin of his shaft up and down as I jacked him off. The look of bliss on Bryan’s face was all the permission I needed. “Wendy actually jacked her cousin off once and told me all about it. Am I doing it right?”

Bryan bit his lower lip as he nodded. My pussy tingled and nobody was touching me down there. I could only imagine the good feelings surging through his body. I had been jacking him off for less than a minute when he moaned and threw his head back, “Ahh, fuck!”

How Bryan managed it, I’ll never understand, but his dick seemed to get slightly bigger and even harder. Then it spasmed in my hand as another moan ripped from his mouth. I couldn’t believe it. I was making a boy cum and driving him crazy while doing it.

A few spasms later, he collapsed on the sleeping bag, spent. From Wendy’s after-action report with her cousin, I knew boys could make lots of gooey, white semen. But even though I had just made him cum, nothing shot out of Bryan’s dick.

“How was your cum?”

Bryan’s eyes fluttered open, and he gave me a radiant smile, “Best ever. Wow.”

I rested my hand on his stomach, which was rapidly rising and falling, “But you didn’t shoot anything.”

He shrugged, “Davy could shoot his stuff. It was clear and slimy. He said I’d eventually make cum. I haven’t yet.”

It took a moment to think this through and a smile spread across my face, this eleven-year-old, for whom I was, was still on the cusp of puberty. Given my own developmental delays, I liked the fact that we were pretty much in the same boat.

Before I could think of any more questions to ask or anything else to do, Bryan yawned. Seeing him do it, I couldn’t control my mouth and I yawned, too. I patted his stomach, “Shit, Bryan, your yawning is contagious. I guess it’s getting late.”

The boy’s jaw popped before he finally managed to shut his mouth, “Yeah. I dunno why, but I got tired after you, ah, jacked me off.”

I leaned down until our faces were only inches apart. He whispered, “I’m really glad you found me last week. You’re the best.”

My response was pressing my lips to his. He was definitely getting kissing down. When I broke the kiss, we both slid under the covers of our sleeping bags. I heard his even breathing within a minute or two. It took me a little longer to fall asleep. But as I drifted off, it was to images of the beautiful, naked boy sleeping next to me.

Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

The Treehouse – Chapter 4

The Treehouse – Chapter 4

Even though Erin said it was too dark to see, I still felt her eyes on me as climbed into her spare sleeping bag. It felt weird knowing she could see me naked, even if she said she couldn’t see me. A part of me thought I wasn’t being fair, though. After all, already I had seen her boobs several times. Granted, they were barely there, even so, I’d seen them.

Once I slid into the bag, she said, “Come here. We’ll warm up faster if we cuddle together.”

There it was again. She could have said, “Come on Bryan, we’re going to jump off this bridge,” and I probably would have followed her. Erin just had this way of about her that made me want to do whatever she asked and I scooted around in the sleeping bag until we pushed both bags together. I could feel her shoulder beside mine through the padded material.

Even though I had dried off and was in the sleeping bag, my teeth refused to stop clattering in my head. Erin rolled onto her side, facing me, “Damn, Bry. We gotta get you warm.”

She caught me by surprise when she pulled her arms out of her bag and wrapped them around my neck and hugged me. The tops of our chests touched and warmth radiated out from there. Despite the roiling in my stomach at her touch, almost of their own volition, my arms went around her neck and I returned the hug.

Even though the rain thundered on the linoleum covered two-by-fours overhead, Erin’s treehouse didn’t leak. Of course, it helped that her windows were shuttered, blocking both wind and rain. Even if it was at the expense of light. While the storm raged outside, we warmed up in each other’s arms.

We hadn’t talked since she put her arms around me. My eyes had finally adjusted to the dark and I could see her face, her shoulders and when I looked down, her chest pressed against mine. My mind turned to gibberish as it dawned on me, her boobs and my chest were touching. How she couldn’t hear or feel the rapid thunder of my heart in my ribcage was a mystery. Worse yet, part of me stirred to life, and I got a stiffy. I inched my butt back; I think I would have died of mortification right then if Erin realized I had popped a stiffy.

My mind grappled with something, anything to say to change the focus. “Um, this mattress is sweet. It’s more comfortable than mine.”

Erin’s face was only a few inches from mine, and I could see all of her features. Her square jaw, dry lips, and green eyes. She said, “Yeah. Dad got this for me right after we finished building the treehouse. I can sleep here just as well as I can in my own bed. I like how it’s big enough for both of us to spread out our sleeping bags.”

She looked down and giggled, “Well, if we weren’t snuggled up trying to keep warm.”

Even though I hated how one part of my body was betraying me, I couldn’t deny I enjoyed hugging her. The notion of spending the night on the mattress with her did nothing to solve the problem between my legs, because it sounded so much better than staying at home in the little ratty trailer. Since arriving in Zavalla, I had gotten an erection once in the shower with Danny and the other boys. That had been humiliating. And now, snuggled against Erin. Somehow, my instincts knew, even though I had no plans to let her see my stiffy, she wouldn’t tease me. All these new thoughts floated through my head. I don’t know if it was the thoughts or being so close to Erin, but I felt a lot warmer in the sleeping bag.

Erin still held me in the embrace when she said, “You know, Bry, you should spend the night. We can play Candy Land or Go Fish or maybe tell each other scary ghost stories.”
I had only had one real friend before moving to Zavalla. Most of the kids in school hadn’t even been “here’s an invitation to my birthday party, please bring a gift when you come,” friend. Davy was the exception. And toward the end, he had been obsessed with showing me he could shoot a few drops of watery semen. Erin wasn’t like the other kids. She really wanted to hang out with me.

But I wasn’t sure about spending the night. Oh, I wanted to. A lot. But I wasn’t sure Granny would go for a sleepover at a girl’s house. Still, I already knew I would ask. After all, it was for Erin. “That’d be cool. I can call and ask when the storm clears.”

Erin’s eyes sparkled, “Awesome.” She hugged me ever tighter, our faces were cheek to cheek. Then she surprised me. She turned her head and kissed my cheek. It was only a peck, but it sent a thrill through my body.

Most summer storms blow themselves out almost as quick as they form over East Texas. But after a couple of hours, the rain was unrelenting as it pounded on the roof. We eventually stopped hugging because we were both warm in our bags. We had exhausted the topic of the sleepover and even shared a ghost story. But by then, the peanut butter and jelly sandwich from lunch was only a hungry memory. My stomach growled loud enough for Erin to hear and I said, “Is there anything to eat out here? I could eat a horse.”

Erin propped herself on an elbow, the sleeping bag coming up to above her stomach, “Only a can of Spam. It’s,” she held her watch close to her face, “after seven. Mom’s bound to be passed out on the couch or in her bed. We can raid the fridge, find something to eat. Do you still want to ask your granny if you can stay over?”

I felt something stir between my legs at Erin’s words, but I ignored it, hoping I’d not pop another stiffy. “Yeah. I can call her, if that’s cool.” But how were we going to get over there? Everything we had was at the foot of the tree, just as soaked as when we stripped naked.

My penis stirred again, threatening me with another stiffy, “Um, Erin, what about our clothes? They’re soaked.”

It wasn’t so dark as I couldn’t see the flush on her cheeks. She chewed on her lower lip before saying, “Well, we can run over to the house naked.”

Damn! My stiffy pushed against the fabric of the sleeping bag, “What? We’d see each others, um, you know, our stuff. And what about your mom? What if she’s not passed out drunk? She’d be pissed as hell.”

From leaning on her elbow, Erin sat up on the mattress, her sleeping bag bunched up around her waist. “You’ve seen me without my shirt already. That doesn’t bother me. We’re friends now, so what’s the big deal if we see the rest of each other?”

My penis twitched. I could think of one big deal. Still, it was a revelation that Erin thought we were close enough now as friends to see each other’s bodies. But what did that mean? When she said we were friends, was that some kind of secret girl code for being more than that? Was that why she wanted us to see each other naked? Or was it just the garden-variety friends that boys and girls sometimes made with each other?

If it was the first, the kind that implied kissing and touching, what would she think of me? I was only eleven to her thirteen. Compared to Davy or even the boys in the shower-room, I wasn’t much to look at. The last time I had measured myself, my stiffy wasn’t quite three inches. Compared to boys Erin’ age, there was no way I would measure up. Filled with uncertainty, but not wanting to disappoint her, I mumbled, “I dunno, Erin. I guess not. It’s just I’m not…”

Words failed me. As much as I was drawn to her, telling her how small I was, or worse, letting her see, embarrassed the hell out of me.

Erin leaned over toward me. I glanced down at her chest. Her nascent buds were only inches from my chest again. A thrill, like an electrical current ran through me when she rested a hand on my leg, “It’s just you and me, Bry. Nobody else will see us.”

I felt myself twitch under cover of the sleeping bag. I wanted her to understand my fear, but just telling her was more difficult than I imagined. I bit my lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood before I finally managed, “It’s just, well, promise not to laugh at me when you see it.”

Erin’s eyes drifted to my covered crotch before she looked me in the eyes, “I’d never do that, Bry. I like you way too much to laugh at your, um…”

Her words faded even as her eyes remained on what was hidden below the sleeping bag. Finally, she shifted and sat up and slid out of her bag. Sure, it was dark because of the storm outside. But our eyes were adjusted. And mine traveled from her tiny buds down her torso to her innie belly button. From there, six inches lower, was the edge of her puffy slit. Just like me, there wasn’t a hint of hair to be seen. I guess I had assumed because she was older than me, that she would be further along into puberty.

Blushing furiously, Erin continued, “See, Bry. We’re probably closer alike than you realized. I promise I won’t laugh.”

Her magnetism drew me in and even though I was still terrified of her seeing my little stiffy, for Erin, I was willing to face my fears. I sat up and then stood, leaving the sleeping bag on the mattress. All nearly three inches of my stiffy pointed to the roof and reflexively, my hands covered it.

Erin tore her eyes away from my crotch, “Cool. You ready to make a run for it?”

I did my best to ignore the fluttering in my stomach. Bryan covered his little boner almost as soon as it popped into view. He was the first boy I’d ever seen naked, and he was gorgeous. When he nodded, he was ready, I went to the door and opened it. A blast of spray hit me, sending a chill through my body. I hurried to the ladder and went down. The wooden rungs were slick, so I had no choice but to take my time. The last thing I wanted was to slip.

On the ground, I looked up. Bryan started down the ladder. I could see his butt, his little ball-sack and even his penis. He was still hard, and it bounced with each rung of the ladder as he lowered himself. I had felt this tingling in my stomach before. The handful of times Wendy and I fooled around, I’d felt this way. The heat was strongest below my stomach, just inside the puffy lips of my pussy. It was because of Wendy that I didn’t mind letting Bryan see me. Those times she and I spent the night at her house, we had showered together, played games in her room together and slept together in the nude. The things we had done to each other in her bed were how I knew my body’s signs; knew I was being drawn to this beautiful young boy.

Once Bryan reached the ground, I grabbed his hand and ran toward the darkened house. I had run the distance hundreds of times and knew every step of the way; I could have run it blindfolded. When we reached the back of the house, I felt a sense of relief and respite once we stood under the patio cover. I held up a finger, “I’m going to check and see if my mom is out yet.”

I opened the door and gave Bryan a smile before stepping into the house. Before turning away from him, I noticed his boner had gone away while we ran. Even though it was dark, it wasn’t so dark that I couldn’t see the delightful little noodle hanging down in front of his small ball-sack. I had to turn away. If I hadn’t been wet from the rain, I’m sure I would have been wet from the emotions wracking me right then. I pushed those thoughts aside as I made my way from the dining area into the living room.

The TV was playing The Love Boat, and Mom was exactly where I expected her to be. She was passed out. A bottle of Jack Daniels stood half-empty on the coffee table. Part of me wanted to be angry at her, to yell, scream and cuss at her for retreating into a shell after my dad’s death. There had been a time when I had needed her, and she wasn’t there.

But now, with Bryan waiting outside, there was only relief. I returned to the back door and waved him in. When I flipped on the light to the kitchen, the shadows fled and both of our bodies were exposed to each other. I grinned when the boy’s hands shot back to cover his charms. I tried not to blush, “I told you. Mom’s shit-faced drunk in the living room. We could have an orgy on the coffee table and she’d be fucking clueless.”

The look of confusion on Bryan’s face was a reminder that he was younger than me and didn’t know everything I had already discovered. He didn’t ask any questions, and I thought it better to focus on what brought us to the house. I opened the fridge and smiled, “Jackpot, Bry. There’s meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”

I retrieved them from the fridge and put the meatloaf into the microwave. The look of wonder on Bryan’s face surprised me, “What?”

He forgot his nakedness for a moment and pointed at the microwave. “Is that a microwave?”

They were still new in 1980. Dad had bought it for Mom a couple of years before. It had been hideously expensive, more than a thousand dollars. If Bryan was living with his mom and Granny in a trailer, no wonder he hadn’t seen one.

“Yeah. Comes in handy warming up leftovers.”

When the microwave dinged, I swapped the mashed potatoes for the meatloaf and set the timer again. While the potatoes cooked, I pointed to the phone on the wall between the kitchen and dining room, “You still want to do the sleepover, there’s a phone to call your granny.”

Bryan was trying to look everywhere else but at me. But he failed badly, and I liked it. Even though he held a cupped hand over his penis, I could tell he was halfway between soft and hard. “Y-, yeah. Let me call her.”

The boy grabbed the phone off the hook and dialed a number. A moment later, he said, “Hi, Granny.”

After a moment of silence, he replied, “I’m good. Y-, yeah, stayed out of the storm. I’m over at my friends, Eri-, um, Eric’s. Is it okay if I spend the night?”

Bryan’s cheeks were crimson, he had turned his body so that his penis was hidden from me, after a moment he said, “Cool. Good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

There was no doubt in my mind, I really liked Bryan. An awful lot. But listening to that phone call, my estimation of the boy shot up. “Oh, shit, Bry. That was fucking awesome. Eric? That shit’s great.”

How it was possible for him to grow even redder was beyond me. I felt heat growing within me as his eyes returned to my body. He stammered, “W-, well, she said yes.”

I grabbed my backpack and put the bowls of leftovers in it, as well as a couple of Coke bottles, and turned out the lights, throwing the kitchen back into darkness. Bryan was still standing by the phone, leaving a narrow space between him and the bar. I should have let him move or turned and faced away as I moved past him. Instead, my chest bumped against his and I felt something hit my thigh. He gasped and pulled back against the wall as I muttered, “Shit, Bry. I’m sorry.”

A long moment passed before he responded, “It’s okay. I should have moved.”

The door was closed, and we were under the patio when I realized I was glad he hadn’t moved. The touch of our bodies had sent a tingle through my body the likes of which Wendy had never given me. There would be time enough to explore what those feeling meant later. For now, we needed to get back to the treehouse and eat. “Come on, Bry. Let’s go!”

Laden down with dinner, I wasn’t able to run back. The storm had slacked off a bit, but the water remained cold and by the time we reached the ladder, we were both ready to get back under the covers of the sleeping bags. As I climbed up first, a quick glance below showed Bryan looking up at me. Even though I was wet and cold, that heat between my legs returned. It wasn’t so dark that he couldn’t see between my legs. Could he see the plump smoothness of my pussy squeezed between my legs? I wondered what he thought of me. Was he developing similar feelings for me as I felt for him?

I waited until he was most of the way up the ladder before turning and going into the treehouse. I used the damp towel to dry off as best as I could. I was still cold, and I wanted to climb into one of the sleeping bags, but first, I found the Coleman lantern. There were matches with it, and within a few moments, I had it lit and spreading a cheery light throughout the room.
When I turned around, Bryan was toweling himself dry. He was soft again, just a little noodle. His penis endlessly fascinated me. How it went from soft to hard and back to soft so often. I doubted I’d ever tire of seeing it.

He glanced up at me and the flush in his cheeks returned as he took in my body. He dropped the towel and climbed onto the bed, where he shimmied into one of the sleeping bags. I placed my backpack on the mattress and climbed inside my bag, enjoying the warmth that enveloped my covered parts. Still, we were going to eat, so it was easier to sit in the sleeping bag than to lie down.

I unzipped the backpack and fished out the bowls and forks. I hadn’t thought to bring plates, so I pulled the lids off and handed him a fork, “We’ll eat family-style, from the bowls.”

Eating family style with Erin wasn’t that different from sharing a bucket of fried chicken. Well, except the leftovers were tasty and Erin and I were naked, even though we were both sitting inside the sleeping bags. So, maybe not that much like sharing a bucket of fried chicken after all.

As I ate meatloaf from the same bowl as Erin, my eyes kept traveling to the bunched up sleeping bag. Seeing her earlier had been a revelation; She was the only girl I saw naked. Her smooth pubic area and hairless slit surprised me. She was already thirteen, and there were boys in my class that had hair. Didn’t girls mature faster than us?

“Hey, whatcha thinking about, Bry?”

My eyes flew from her crotch back to Erin’s face. I hoped my face hadn’t given my thoughts away as I floundered, “The meatloaf is great. Did you fix it by yourself?”

A smile played on her lips. The heat on my cheeks must have given me away. “I helped, but when Mom’s not shit-faced, she’s actually a great cook. I put the butter in the mashed potatoes and mixed them up in the mixing bowl.”

I spooned some potatoes and shoved them in my mouth as my eyes went back to the mystery hidden by the sleeping bag. She took a couple of bites before leaving her fork in the meatloaf bowl, “Hey, Bry?”


Erin grabbed the bunched-up part of her sleeping bag, “Do you want to see me again?”

My eyes grew round. Was she saying what I thought she was? “What?”

“You’ve been staring at me throughout dinner. You saw me naked earlier, but if you want a closer look, you can have it. I don’t mind.”

I probably looked like I had been struck by a poleax. My mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. Erin took me completely by surprise. Finally, she added, “Well, do you? I don’t mind you seeing my pussy.”

My voice was still MIA, but I managed to nod, and was rewarded by Erin sliding out of her sleeping bag. The wind had stopped rattling the shutters, and the temperature was at least ten degrees warmer than when we first came in from the rain.

Erin stretched her legs out on both sides of the bowls of leftovers, giving me an unobstructed view of her parts. Earlier, when she stood, all I could see was the top of her slit, but sitting with her legs open wide, I could see a small bit of skin just inside the top of what looked like puffy lips. Inside the lips, her skin glistened pink. Toward the end of the slit was an indention leading inside her body. And like me, she didn’t have any hair at all down there. I was mesmerized.

If I hadn’t already been erect, the view she gave me would have made me pop a stiffy. Instinctively, I knew I needed to say something. But seeing what Erin had turned an already mushy brain to goo, I managed a feeble, “Shit. Wow!”

Erin leaned forward, making the lips spread apart a bit more, and the indention opened and I could actually see her tiny vagina. She said, “You couldn’t stop staring. It only seemed fair. You know what else seems fair?”

I shook my head, “Wha-?”
Her fingers snaked out and gripped my sleeping bag, “For you to climb out of the sleeping bag and let me see you.”

“B-, but you’ve already seen me. I’m not–”

Erin cut me off, “It’s just the two of us, dude. I don’t care if you think you’re small. What I saw earlier was really cute and, well, I want to see it again.”

I was gob smacked by Erin’s words. A few heartbeats passed before she added, “Please, Bry. I won’t tell a soul.”

When she tugged on the sleeping bag, I let her as I shifted my butt until I was out of the sleeping bag. I wanted to pull my knees up and cover myself. But Erin sat, exposed in all her radiant glory. I stretched my legs and spread them, giving her the same look she had given me.

Erin smiled, “I think your, um, thing, is cute.”

I looked down at my groin. My modest not-quite-three inches pointed toward the ceiling, giving Erin a perfect view. My face was hot to the touch, even as I thought about her comment. She hadn’t laughed or said I was small. Wait? She liked it? No way!

I stammered, “Y-, you d- don’t think it’s too small?”

Erin shook her head as she leaned even closer, “Well, to be fair, I’ve never seen another boy’s stuff. But you look really nice.”

Now that I found my voice, maybe it was time to do better than shit and wow, “So do you. Really nice.

Erin’s features relaxed, “Cool. Most of the other girls in my class call me lezbo behind my back. Shit, some girls don’t wait to do it behind me. A lot of it is because I dress like a tomboy and wear boys’ clothes. But at least boys’ clothes let me hide just how small my boobs are.”

I felt like she was opening her heart to me, “That’s stupid to call you names like that just because you wear boys’ clothes.”

She blushed, “Well, I got caught kissing another girl earlier this spring. Adding that on top of the boys’ clothes may have been part of the reason.”

I couldn’t believe my ears, “You kissed a girl?”

I’m sure my mom probably gave me kisses when I was a baby. But I didn’t remember that far back. Nobody had ever kissed me since then. The admission was a reminder Erin was older and more experienced than me.

She nodded, “Yeah, and we saw each other a few times, just like you and me. But you and Wendy are the only people I’ve ever seen naked this close.”

I didn’t know Wendy, but I felt jealous at the news. It was an irrational emotion. Me and Davy had probably done the same things together that Erin had done with Wendy. I resolved to not think of Davy or Wendy.

Now that dinner was over, and the coke bottle set empty beside the mattress, my bladder reminded me of its presence. “Where can I go to the bathroom?”

Erin asked, “Piss or poop?”


She grinned, “Good thing. When I have’ta shit, I usually go into the house. Maybe we can make an outhouse for the treehouse. For now, when I gotta piss, I go down and find a bush or something.”

I sighed unhappily. Even though I was naked and the room had eventually become warm and cheery, I didn’t relish the idea of going back into the rain, even though it sounded as though the worst of the storm was over. Erin reached over and took me by the hand and pulled me to my feet, “Come on, we’ll go together. I gotta pee too.”

Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

The Treehouse – Chapter 3

The Treehouse – Chapter 3

I washed the cereal bowl before setting it on the drying rack. Mom and Granny were still asleep. Mom had been working the lunch and supper-until closing shift. She usually slept until she had to get to work. Granny wasn’t much better. She gets up just early enough to catch the first of her soaps. As long as I didn’t make a mess, they didn’t give a damn what I ate for breakfast, so long as I didn’t disturb them.

I closed the door and started across our overgrown front lawn. It was early, not even eight in the morning, and I hoped Erin would be at the treehouse. We hadn’t managed to connect over the weekend, but this was the first official day of summer and I hoped we could hang out. Despite how early it was, the sun kissed the earth with a promise of another hot day. I wasn’t too worried about that; I was ready. I wore a red and white striped tank top and an old pair of jeans, which I had cut the legs off a few inches below the inseam. Short shorts were all the rage that summer. They were tight, being leftovers from last year, but they still fit. My Keds were dried out, and I was back in them, sporting a pair of knee-high white socks. They were perfect for traipsing through tall grass.

Even though it took less than ten minutes to walk to the treehouse, my face was red and sweaty and my long hair was plastered to my forehead. The place was quiet and looked deserted. My chest was tight, and I worried Erin wouldn’t be there. Still, I had walked the whole way. I wasn’t about to turn around and leave without at least calling for her, “Erin!”

A moment later, one of the shutters on the treehouse opened and Erin poked her head out, “Hey Bryan! You made it. Come on up.”
By the time I reached the platform, my hands were sweaty. I still didn’t care for the narrow walkway around the treehouse. It was a long fall, and I had no interest in breaking any bones. I opened the door and went in.

Erin sat at the table with a box of Pop-Tarts. She wore the same thing she wore the previous Friday. Just her underwear. One of the sleeping bags was unrolled and had a slept in look to it. It was hard not to stare at her, now that I knew those puffy little nipples belonged to a girl, but I tried, “You slept out here?”

She nodded, handing me a foil-wrapped package of Pop-Tarts. “Yeah. If you’re hungry, these are good. I liked sleeping out here. The treehouse gets a pleasant breeze at night. You should come over tonight, we could play board games and hang out all night. It’d be cool to the max.”

“Wouldn’t your mom care?”

Erin shrugged, “She’s too stoned on her booze to care. She knows where to find me.”

Try as I might, I couldn’t keep my eyes from returning to the puffy buds on her chest. Still, I tried to look elsewhere, “What do you wanna do today?”

She swallowed a bite of a Pop-Tart, “What about going canoeing?”

I had never been canoeing. “C-, canoeing? How?”

Erin stood up. It almost felt like she was enjoying giving me another opportunity to stare at her panties, and pointed toward the house in the distance. “My dad’s old canoe is up by our house. You and I can haul it over to the river. It’s only a couple of hundred yards away. Then we can paddle it down to the reservoir.”

I tore my eyes away from Erin’s body. Six hundred feet? That was a long way to haul a canoe. Still, if that’s what the girl wanted to do, I could no more deny her than I could stop breathing. “Okay.”

Erin flashed me a smile as she stood and grabbed a pair of shorts that looked like they had been made the same way mine had. There wasn’t a lot of leg on my shorts. There was even less on hers. Her tank top was a solid baby blue and once she had it on, the slight rise on her chest was almost impossible to see. Once she pulled on her own Keds, she said, “We can make some sandwiches at my house, then we’ll get the canoe.”

It only took a few minutes to walk to Erin’s house. The canoe lay against the side of the house. The green painted hull was made from aluminum. She walked past it and headed toward the house’s back door. Her mom kept the house cool. Almost cold. Compared to my Granny’s place, it was downright arctic. The sweat cooled from my face almost instantly when we stepped inside.

Even though we were between the kitchen and the dining room, the house felt large. At least a lot bigger than the single-wide I lived in. Even the dining room table could easily seat six. A bar with green linoleum separated the kitchen from the dining area, and Erin hurried around it and grabbed a loaf of bread.

“Peanut butter and jelly okay?” she asked.

I nodded. PB and J wasn’t my favorite, but it beat having to go home and beg some food from Grandma. As Erin made the sandwiches, a noise from elsewhere in the house drew my attention. A moment later, a woman with disheveled hair the same blonde as Erin’s came into the kitchen. Her eyes were red and her feet shuffled more than walked.

“I thought I heard a noise. How’s my pumpkin?”

Erin’s eyes pierced into the woman, “Mom. Really?”

Her mother shuffled over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Lone Star beer, as she twisted off the top, her eyes fell on me, “Oh, who’s your little friend, Pumpkin?”

Erin shook her head, much to my amusement. Her mother wasn’t what I expected. Except for the booze. The girl huffed, “This is Bryan. He’s my friend. We’re going to take dad’s canoe onto the river.”

The woman took a long pull on the bottle. She smacked her lips, “Fine. Don’t break your daddy’s shit if you use it. Don’t forget to put some sun screen on. You don’t wanna burn… Pumpkin.”

She turned and shuffled back into the living room, leaving my friend furious, “I hate that fucking name,” she muttered.

I shook my head, “Are you sure our moms aren’t related?”

She gave me a look that silenced me while she finished making the sandwiches. She disappeared down a hallway and returned with a small red and white Igloo cooler and a brown plastic bottle of Coppertone.

She grabbed an empty two-liter glass bottle with a Coca-Cola logo on the side and filled it with tap water and added it to the cooler too. Still upset, she grumbled, “That should do. Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Back at the canoe, Erin put Igloo in the boat’s bottom, and grabbed the front, “Come on, Bryan. Now you see why I like hanging out in my treehouse.”

That canoe was a heavy son-of-a-bitch. I was seventy-five pounds soaking wet. My muscles were more of a promise at that point and helping Erin carry it to the river was the most physical activity I’d ever taken on in my eleven years.

Struggling under the weight, somehow, I kept my end of the canoe off the ground until I couldn’t hold it anymore. When I set it down, I could see the river. We were less than a hundred yards away. “How many times did you and your dad do this?”

Erin wiped her brow, “Dunno. We only got to go out a few times last summer. He was getting sick by then. I don’t remember it being this heavy.”

The last thing I wanted to do was second guess my only friend, I said, “I’m rested, I think. Let’s try again.”

With every step, the canoe felt heavier, but the sight of the brown water of the Angelina River gave me just enough motivation to make the last few dozen steps. Erin set her end into the water, as I barely avoided dropping my end.

I stretched and rubbed my muscles, “You know we’re gonna have to haul this back to your house too.”

I laughed when Erin sent me a sour smile and flipped me off. But she laughed when she raised her middle finger. Once we had the canoe resting most of the way in the water, she pulled the Coppertone bottle from the Igloo, “We’ll get a lot of sun today. We should put this on or we’ll bake like lobsters.”

We rubbed the sweet-smelling sunblock on our arms and legs. Then she said, “Turn around. I’ll get shoulders above your tank top.”

I complied, and I felt the cold lotion drop on the top of my shoulders before Erin’s fingers rubbed it into my exposed skin. She even spun me around and rubbed the lotion onto the exposed part of my neck and collar.

She handed me the bottle, “Can you get my back too?”

She turned and offered me her back. I had to reach up higher on her back than mine. My fingers tingled as I rubbed lotion into her shoulders. Even though there wasn’t anything sensual about putting sunscreen on each other, the butterflies in my stomach fluttered and flapped. By the time I finished rubbing sunscreen onto Erin’s collar and shoulders, my penis was painfully erect. I’d never been happier for tight fitting shorts.

Once she returned to lotion to the Igloo, I came around and looked inside the canoe. There were four bars evenly spaced, but no seats. “Um, Erin, where are we supposed to sit?”

The girl came over and grabbed a paddle, “Don’t sit on the thwarts,” she pointed at the bars. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Erin climbed in the canoe and knelt at the back while facing forward, on her knees, resting them on an orange life jacket. “We sit like this. When we get tired, we can use the life jacket as a seat.”

She climbed from the canoe and I helped her push it in the rest of the way into the water until only a foot or two of the canoe rested on the riverbank. She pointed toward the front, “You’ll sit up there and paddle. I’ll be in the back, paddling and steering.”

I had seen Disney movies of people canoeing and they all looked like they were having a great time. “Why can’t I steer? It looks like fun.”

Erin grinned at me and thrust a paddle into my hands. She stepped even closer until her shoes touched mine, “I’m the stronger canoer, so I’ll steer the canoe. Do you even know how to steer this thing?”

The fact that she was several inches taller and probably a lot stronger than me kept me from saying something I would have regretted. Instead, I shook my head.

“Boys,” Erin’s voice was full of exasperation and scorn. “Once you have the hang of it, maybe we’ll trade places.”

Bowing to her experience, I knelt in the front of the canoe as Erin pushed off from the river bank, nimbly stepping over the rearmost thwart and sitting down without getting wet. The watercraft rocked gently from side to side as she dipped her paddle into the river and sent us downstream.

After twenty minutes of instructions as we let the languid current do most of the work taking us down the river, I figured out how to paddle without pissing Erin off too much. Turns out, it’s easier for the person in the canoe’s front to splash water onto the person in the rear. After floating under the bridge I’d tried to jump from, the current lessened as the river widened and fed into Lake Rayburn. We had to paddle in earnest to send our canoe gliding across the water. I could see the shoreline on either side of us. But straight ahead, the lake seemed to go on forever.

“How far are we going?”

Erin rested her paddle on the canoe’s gunwales. “Let’s find some shade along the shoreline. I’m getting hungry.”

By the time we paddled under an overhanging tree, I was winded too, “Going back’s going to suck.”

Erin snickered, “Yeah. And once we’re back in the river, it’ll all be upstream.”

I shook my head. I was hard-pressed to understand why I let her talk me into this. Then, as Erin jumped from the boat into the shallow water up to her shins, she tied the canoe to a tree, “Come on, Bryan. We’ll eat lunch on dry land.”

When we sat on a grassy spot under the tree, Erin’s knee brushed against mine as she rummaged around in the Igloo and pulled out a couple of sandwiches wrapped in wax paper. When she gave me one, I remembered why I let her talk me into this. She had saved me and wanted to be my friend. I realized as I accepted the sandwich, I would follow her anywhere.

It had been months since I had been out on the river, let alone the lake. My muscles were sore, and I was just as glad as Bryan to stop along the shoreline for lunch. After we ate, I stared across the lake, “Dad used to bring me out here. Before he got sick. He’d always pack a picnic lunch, and we’d sit under a tree just like this one and eat. Sometimes we’d spend the entire day picnicking, canoeing, and swimming. It was so much fun.”

I missed my dad so much at that moment. Bryan surprised me when he reached over and rested his hand on my knee. There was genuine affection in his voice, “Your dad sounds like he was super cool.”

My stomach was all aflutter. The well of emotion that swept over me almost caused me to lean over and kiss him. I barely restrained myself. It was lame, but all I could come up with was, “Thanks, Bryan. I miss him so much but I’m glad you’re my friend.”

The words weren’t enough. In that moment, I realized whatever I had felt for Wendy, I felt something stronger for this beautiful eleven-year-old boy. All I could come up with was a lame thanks. He deserved better. Unable to contain my emotions, I leaned over and hugged him. I could feel our chests against each other and wondered if he could feel my tiny buds through our shirts. I sure could. They tingled something fierce as I hugged him.

The way he responded, returning my hug, made my heart soar even while the fluttering in my stomach was nearly too much. How he didn’t feel the pounding of my heart was a mystery. Finally, we ended our hug. It had only lasted a moment, but the smile on Bryan’s face was enough to suspect he felt similarly.

We both muttered, “thanks,” and “that was nice.” Not wanting to dwell on my emotions anymore, I reclined on the grass and said, “I’m going to take a little nap. You should too. It’ll make us feel more rested when we head back.”

He lay down beside me and before long, we were both asleep.

I awoke to a hand on my arm, shaking me, “Erin, Erin. Wake up. The weather!”

My eyes fluttered open at the same time I became aware of a chill on my skin. Wide-eyed, Bryan pointed to the sky. Dark storm clouds blocked the sun. My brain tried to wake up, “Shit! Where’d the sun go?

Bryan was already on his feet and offering his hand, “Don’t know. I woke up because I was getting cold.”

A glance at my watch and I swore again, “Shit, it’s almost four. We slept the whole fucking afternoon.”

I felt a burst of adrenaline shoot through me. I didn’t want to be on the lake when the skies open up. When we threw the Igloo into the canoe, the sleep really had helped. I felt refreshed and ready to get to paddling. We hadn’t gone far before the first splatters of rain hit. We redoubled our effort, pulling toward the mouth of the Angelina River in the distance.

The drops were falling all around us by the time we reached the mouth of the river. And that’s when the storm hit. The wind hit just before sheets of rain lashed at us, drenching us to the bone. Bryan was flagging by the time we were inching our way up the river. I had to shout to keep the wind from ripping my words away, “We’re not far, Bryan. The sooner we get back, the sooner we can get out of our wet clothes and get dry.”

If there was anything positive, it was the wind blew from the southwest, pushing against our backs as we paddled upstream. By the time I steered toward the riverbank, a couple of inches of water filled the bottom of the canoe. When the bow dug into the shore, Bryan lept into the water and, with my help, dragged the canoe fully onto the shore, where I tied it to a nearby tree.

I was cold and miserable. But also thankful we made it home safe. I had feared what might become of us had a lightning strike hit close to our aluminum canoe. I felt relief as I shouted, “Come on! Let’s go to the treehouse. We can ride out the storm there.”

I grabbed Bryan’s hand as we dashed toward the treehouse. We beached the canoe a couple of hundred yards behind my house. The treehouse was several hundred yards further into the dense thicket of trees. We only made it halfway before my legs ached and I slowed to a walk, not letting go of Bryan’s hand. We weren’t going to get any less wet by wasting any more energy. With the wind whipping our hair and clothes, and driving rain pelting us, we walked the rest of the way to the treehouse.

As soaked as we were, I didn’t want us bringing our wet clothes inside. We’d only get everything inside wet. So, I pulled at my tank top, and throwing it at the base of the tree. The look on Bryan’s face was one of pure confusion.

My cold fingers fought the button above my pants zipper as I said, “Take your clothes off. I don’t want us dripping water all over the place.”

I wrestled the button loose at my waist and showed him what I meant by pulling my shorts off. Even though I’d seen him in his underwear the previous Friday, I wasn’t sure how compliant Bryan would be. I glanced his way; his shirt was off and he was tugging his shorts down.

When he tossed his shorts on top of mine, his hands reflexively went to cover his crotch. He was gorgeous, soaked to the skin, in just his underwear. “This good?”

Even though I had only known him for a couple of days, I felt more comfortable with him than anyone other than my dad. And that included Wendy. That’s why I decided to test our boundary. I shook my head and hooked my thumbs into the waist of my panties and pulled them off too. The look of shock on Bryan’s face was worth it. But I hadn’t done it to shock him. I really hated getting water on the floor or the mattress.

His eyes fixed on my puffy slit between my legs. Wendy had never teased me about how badly I lagged the other girls in my grade. She was sweet like that, even though she had a nice patch of dark pubic curls and I was as bare as a little kid. I prayed I wasn’t making a mistake with Bryan.

Another blast of wind blew against us, and I decided not to push the issue and turned and climbed the ladder. When I reached the top, I looked below. Bryan stood at the bottom of the ladder and tossed his underwear onto the pile of our clothes before following me.

He was halfway up the ladder when I turned and hurried into the treehouse. On the far side of the mattress, I had left a bath towel from an earlier sleepover and I grabbed it and finished toweling myself dry when Bryan’s silhouette was in the doorway. The room was dark and even though it was clear he was naked, I couldn’t see anything but his form. But I didn’t need to see his features to know he had to be miserable. I finished with the towel, so I held it out, “Come on in, Bry, and dry off.”

His hands were covering his groin when he came over. There was a long moment of awkward hesitancy before he finally reached out and took the towel. I couldn’t help myself. I chuckled, “Dude, it’s too dark to see anything. Get dry; you’ll feel better.”

What would make me feel better was getting into one of the sleeping bags. The storm had brought a chill and even though I wasn’t dripping water anymore, my skin was chilled. While Bryan dried off, I climbed into one of the sleeping bags. His teeth were chattering by the time he dropped the towel and unrolled the other sleeping bag.

I still felt some chill, so once he was in the bag I said, “Come here. We’ll warm up faster if we cuddle together.”

Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

The Treehouse – Chapter 2

The Treehouse – Chapter 1

When I didn’t move, Bryan got the message and climbed to his feet, ignoring my outstretched hand.

There was a moment when I considered dragging his ass back into the Angelina River and finishing what he’d started, but something inside told me he needed a friend even worse than me. I returned to the road and soon was walking alongside it as it led us toward my house.

We were about half a mile away from it when Bryan stopped and pointed to the right where an old dilapidated single-wide sat. He pointed, “That’s my granny’s place. Me and my mom live there now.”

I winced. That place was a shithole. I grabbed at Bryan’s arm and pulled him along, “That’s cool. That means we’re neighbors. Come on.”

Pine trees lined the drainage ditch on either side of the road. And when we were a few hundred yards shy of the drive leading to where I lived with my mom, I stopped in the middle of the road. The forlorn expression on the boy’s face made me second guess myself for a moment. Could I trust him?

There were no other kids within a couple of miles and with Cheryl shit-talking me to the other girls, I couldn’t afford to be too picky unless I wanted my summer to suck worse than it already did. I turned on Bryan, and after chewing on my lip, said, “Okay, pretty boy. Here’s the deal. I’m going to show you my treehouse. But if you breathe a word of it to anyone else, I’ll take you back to the river and finish the job. Got it?”

Bryan’s eyes were huge, saucer-round when he nodded, “O-, okay.”

With what I hoped was a new friend, I jumped across the culvert and cut through the tree line. Beyond the road was a big thicket of pine trees. The tree tops mostly kept the sun from hitting the ground, and patches of grass were mixed in with plants and decaying pine needles. I knew this area like the back of my hand and moved confidently through the trees, despite the lack of a trail. The further into the forest we went, the towering pine trees intermixed with stately live oak trees.

The boy stumbled as he followed me, and I found myself smiling. It wasn’t his fault, but he reeked of city living. Despite him slowing us down, it only took a few minutes to reach the treehouse. I stopped and pointed, “There it is.”

Bryan’s eyes peered into branches and leaves of the huge live oak that held my private sanctuary. You really had to search to find the wooden walls, so I took some mercy on him and showed him the ladder built into the trunk of the tree, “Come on, Bryan. Follow me up.”

I scampered up the wooden rungs until I reached the wide ledge that ran around three of the four walls of the treehouse. I was most of the way up when I heard his voice waft, “You’re dripping on me.”

Once I stood on the platform, I waved, “Come on up.”

Bryan stood there for a moment. I worried I might have scared him away. My dad used to tell m my personality can be a touch aggressive. Eventually, the boy followed me up the ladder. After he reached the top, he edged over to the plywood walls, as far away from the ledge as possible.

I tried to put him at ease as I pointed out the sturdy construction, “Me and my dad built this. He was a contractor and built houses for a living.”

Then I pointed toward the road, “Your place is back that way.”

Through the trees, I could barely make out my house, “Over there is my house.”

Opposite the direction we came, there was a gap in the trees and I could see the sunlight reflect off water, “Over there’s the Angelina River. It’s not that far from where you jumped. It flows into Lake Rayburn. We have a canoe. My dad used to take me canoeing.”

I enjoyed the look of wonder on Bryan’s face. “Come on, it’s even better inside.”

Opening the door, I waved him into the treehouse. There were windows on three sides, and enough light poured through the shutters for us to see. The mattress I slept on whenever I spent the night was in the middle of the floor. I kept a couple of sleeping bags rolled up atop the mattress. Against the side with the door, was an old dining table me and my dad found one day while remodeling a home. It had seen better days; its Formica top curled along the corners. There was even an old Vietnam-era steel ammo container on the far wall.

Bryan spun around, “Holy shit, Erin, this is cool. Your dad did an amazing job.”

It shouldn’t have. But the comment pricked my pride, “I helped him and did almost as much would as he did. We finished a bit more than a year ago.”

Barely containing a huff, I pointed to a ladder that led to the roof, “Come on, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

I led Bryan up the ladder and pushed open a trap door. The roof was flat with barely any slope. Once he joined me, I spread my hands wide, taking in the almost perfect view from so high up, “This is my kingdom; where I come to get away.”

Bryan’s eyes were wide as he glanced over the side of the roof, “There aren’t any hand-rails. How do you keep from falling off?”

I smirked as I sat on the warm water-proofed linoleum that covered the heavy two-by-fours and plywood that made up my tree house’s roof. “By not falling off. Don’t be such a pussy, Bryan.”

He blushed. I don’t know if it was for being scared or from my language. But I really didn’t care. I loved the warmth beating down on us. Water still drenched us from our earlier dip in the river and my clothes were uncomfortably soggy. Even though I wanted to be friends with him, I wasn’t sure how he would respond if I stripped off my wet clothes. I wouldn’t have batted an eye if it had been me and Wendy. Of course, Wendy and I had seen each other naked several times, so we were already familiar with each other’s bodies.

But Bryan? I didn’t know the boy or how he would respond. Before, when my dad was still alive, I hadn’t had to worry about that. He didn’t care if I ran around in my panties or even naked. I was his little tomboy and clothing was optional when I hung out with him. There was only one way to find out how Bryan would react.

I unbuttoned the top button of my shirt, “What time you gotta be home?”

Bryan tore his eyes away from my hands as I unbuttoned the second button and looked at his watch, “Shit. Stupid watch. Um, I dunno. Mom doesn’t much care. As long as I’m home by dark, my granny won’t care either.”

I nodded as I undid the third button, “I’m soaked, man. I’m going to lay my clothes out to dry. You should too.”

I felt the boy’s eyes on me as finished unbuttoning my shirt. Before things went to shit, Mom would have killed me if she knew I was taking my shirt off in front of a boy. Would probably drag my ass to the store and buy me some undershirts, maybe even a training bra. But my tits were tiny, scarcely bigger than a boy’s. And my shirt was made of a thick cotton weave, making an undershirt unnecessary. I pushed the shirt off my shoulders and spread it over the linoleum to dry.

I didn’t like it when Aaron asked me if I was a pussy. Sure, he was older and taller than me. Until then, he was the only kid who hadn’t teased me or treated me like an outcast. Also, I liked how brash and outgoing he was. After everything I’d endured at the hands of the other sixth-grade boys, I was gun-shy and timid; he was everything I wasn’t.

Except soaked. We were both dripping wet from him saving my ass. Still, when he started to strip on the roof of the tree house, I thought he was brave and cool. After all the torment I’d endured at the hands of my class-mates, I don’t think I could have just taken my shirt off first in front of someone else. He made it seem easy.

Once he laid his wet shirt on the linoleum, Aaron turned to me. He had a farmer’s tan; his arms below where his shirt sleeves ended were golden. His torso was rail-thin. His shoulders were slightly narrower than his hips. His chest was more developed than mine, with puffy nipples like I’d seen on one or two of the older boys.

He dipped his head toward his shirt, “Come on, you’re soaked. They’ll dry quicker if you take them off.”

I grabbed the hem of my T-shirt and tossed it down beside his blue and white checkered shirt before tackling the zipper of my pants. While I sat down to pull my pants down, Aaron unfastened his jeans and jumped up and down on one foot and then the other as he tugged the wet pants legs off.

When he finished, he spread both our jeans out to dry in the sun. When he turned back to face me, my curiosity about the older boy got the better of me. My eyes went to his underwear. He was wearing a pair of white cotton panties. Something else was missing too.

Stunned, I stammered, “Aaron, you’re a girl?!”

Heat radiated from her face as she stared down at me. “Yeah. You didn’t know? Erin’s a girl’s name, you know.”

My hands drifted to my crotch. My underwear was wet and the outline of my penis might have been visible. “It’s not Aaron? A-a-r-o-n?”

She giggled as she sat down across from me, “No, silly. Erin. E-R-I-N. Jesus Christ, this is awkward. I’m sorry, dude. I thought you could tell.”

Seeing her laughing at the misunderstanding, it was easy to find the humor in our predicament. Her chest wasn’t puffy like a teenage boy’s. But like a girl with the first hint of budding breasts. “Oh, shit, Erin. I’m sorry. I, um, screwed that up.”

She leaned back, as though she didn’t have a care in the world, letting the sun dry her skin, “It’s fine, Bryan. Maybe I should have told you when I dragged your ass from the water, that a girl had saved you.”

My ears turned red as I flushed. Jumping off that bridge had been spectacularly stupid. But at least there had been one good thing about it. “Maybe. I’m just glad you were there. I was being stupid.”

She bobbed her head, “Yeah. Don’t fucking do something like that ever again, dude. Or at least wait until summer is over. Otherwise, it’s going to get really boring around here.”
I was sitting on the roof of a tree house, in my underwear next to a girl a year or two older than me, also in just her underwear. The butterflies in my stomach churned. This wasn’t anything like being with Davy, no matter what I had earlier thought. The way she sat, I could see her panties. Just like my underwear, hers were damp and I could see the outline of her puffy slit. No, nothing like being with Davy.

Erin caught my eye and smiled, “You’re checking me out, Bryan. I thought you said you were gay.”

I don’t think I ever stopped blushing, but I sure felt the heat in my face, “N-, no. I said I didn’t know.”

Laughing, she reached over and patted my arm, “I’m just fucking with you, dude. Some of the girls in the eighth grade think I’m a dyke.”

I thought a dike was a dam used to hold back water. “A dam?”

Erin leaned all the way back on the linoleum and laughed. Not a girly laugh, but a belly laugh, “Oh, shit. That’s funny. No. A dyke is a girl who likes other girls. You know, like a fag is for a boy.”

All the pieces fell into place. Erin’s boyish clothing, her short haircut, even the way she talked. It all made perfect sense. Before I could screw up the courage to ask her about it, my expression gave me away. She shook her head, “I don’t know if I am. I enjoy camping, hiking, canoeing. I don’t think those things make me a dike; all I know is I’m a tomboy.”

There it was again. When she spoke, I felt drawn to her. Like some boys, Erin could dominate a conversation if she wanted, just by the strength of her personality. Still, her answer confused me, “Do you like boys?”

She grimaced, “Most of them are stupid.”

The vehemence against my sex stunned me, “B-, but I’m a boy.”

She glowered back, “Yeah. And you tried to kill yourself. That was pretty dumb.”

I lapsed into silence. Erin was right, as much as it galled m to admit it. After a long period of silence, I asked, “Then why’d you show me this place, if I’m dumb.”

Erin shrugged, “This is my first summer without my dad. If you haven’t picked up on it, I don’t exactly have a lot of friends. The girls in my glass think I want to be a boy or am a lezbo, and the boys are dumb. I thought maybe we could be friends, God knows, you could use one.”

The last sentence stung. Probably because there was a ton of truth in it. I wanted a friend more than anything else. Erin was willing and the fact that her treehouse was in easy walking distance from Granny’s trailer and I didn’t have any other prospects, made it an easy decision, “Yeah, I guess that’d be cool, Erin. So, what happened to your dad? Your mom divorce him?”

I figured that was just about the most common reason to not have a dad anymore. I was the poster child for that problem. Erin dropped her eyes; Oh shit. I said something wrong. Before I could figure out how to unsay it, she found her voice, “No. He died of cancer a few months ago.”

I winced. I really stepped in it that time. “Shit. I’m sorry. I just assumed.”

She actually rubbed her eyes. I felt bad as she tried to control her emotions, “It’s no big deal. I’m handling it. Your parents get divorced?”

I nodded. Even though Bill wasn’t my real dad, he was the only father I’d ever known. Still, compared to Erin’s loss, mine seemed insignificant in comparison.

We fell quiet, lying on our backs under the late afternoon Texas sun. It didn’t take too long to feel my skin grow hot. My skin was still pale and I would burn if I stayed out much longer. I sat up and felt my clothes. They were still damp.

Erin eyed me, “We better get back inside before you burn to a crisp.”

As I followed my new friend down the ladder, my eyes were drawn to her back. Erin had a light even tan across of her back. I was pretty sure she only wore a shirt when she had no choice. Compared to her, I was a pasty ghost. Once inside the treehouse, she felt her panties before sitting down on the mattress.

Before I could sit beside her, she held up a hand, “Only if your underwear is dry.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the look on Bryan’s face. The way his long auburn locks framed his face and the way his cute lips formed an O confirmed my earlier assessment. He was a beautiful boy. He patted his underwear and then grabbed a chair from next to the old table and pulled it to the bed, “This okay?”

I felt heat spreading from my cheeks as I nodded. I loved hanging out with Wendy Kennedy. Over the spring, she had really helped get me through a rough patch after my dad died. But her family was moving out of Zavalla now that school was out. She was the kind of friend I could say or do anything with and she would be right there with me. Seeing Bryan lowering himself into the chair, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe we could find something similar between us. What would I have said to Wendy in this situation?

The thought hit me right away. I grinned up at Bryan, “I guess. I was going to say you could sit on the mattress if you took your wet underwear off.”

Bryan’s cheeks turned scarlet, “W-, what? But I’d be naked!”

I could almost imagine bantering with Wendy as I retorted, “So? If you’re a fag, why would that matter?”

When I saw a look of confusion pass over Bryan’s features, I wondered if I pushed things too far. He shook his head, “I don’t know, Erin. How do I know if I am?”

He stunned me with an unexpected admission. I thought for sure he would huff up and deny it. I wanted to reach over to him and hug him and tell him I would still be his friend. But I was enjoying my banter. I leaned forward and put a hand on his knee, “One way to tell what you like is when your dick gets hard. If it gets hard around boys, maybe you’re gay. Around girls and maybe you’re not.”

Warning bells were going off inside my head; I should have stopped there. Instead, I squeezed his knee, “Is your dick hard now?”

Bryan closed his legs and crossed his arms over his crotch as his face remained redder than roses.

I pulled my hand away and sat back on the mattress. “That’s a shame. I’ve never seen a boy naked. Just girls.”

Bryan’s eyes left me. He scanned the treehouse for a moment before saying in a voice that warbled, “What’s there to do around here in the summer?”

Poor beautiful Bryan. He was uncomfortable. I couldn’t let go of how he might could fill the hole in my life created by Wendy’s absence, but I needed to leave that alone for now. I said, “There’s lots to do around here. We can play fort in the treehouse. Pretend there are Indians in the woods. That’d be fun. Right?”

A smile pulled at Bryan’s lips, “Yeah. That’d be fun.”

I waved toward one of the closed windows, “There’s also the river. It’s only a couple of hundred yards over yonder. We can go swimming there, also canoeing. You ever been canoeing?”

The boy shook his head, “No. You’d teach me?”

Wendy hadn’t liked doing a lot of the tomboy stuff I enjoyed. My heart began beating faster at the thought of all the things I used to do with my dad. If Bryan liked to do them too…
I gushed, “Yeah. I love canoeing. Me and my dad went canoeing lots back before he got sick. We can canoe down to Lake Rayburn, have a picnic. It’d be loads of fun. What about a bike? You got one?”

His lips tugged down. He sighed, “Yeah. But it’s a real beater.”

My heart sped up, “No worries. As long as you’ve got two wheels, we can ride around. I know most of the roads between here and Zavalla.”

I was talking too fast and hoped Bryan didn’t notice. I added, “Now that summer’s here, I’m going to sleep out here as often as possible.”

Bryan stared at me, eyes shifting from my face to my chest, down to my panties and back to my face again. But he didn’t relax his arms; they remained folded over his crotch. But his face held a hint of awe, “Your mom will let you?”

The boy was so protective of his crotch; I wondered if he was hard. Wendy was gone, so it wouldn’t be cheating on her if I saw him down there. I pushed the thought aside and replied, “Hell yeah. I turned thirteen last month. But even if I wasn’t, Mom wouldn’t give a damn. She’s in her own world. Sometimes, if I didn’t fix my own food, I think I’d starve. What about you?”
Bryan’s face softened, “I wonder if our moms are, like sisters. My mom doesn’t give a damn about me either. She divorced my stepdad and moved back to this shithole of a town. And we’re living with my granny. It sucks. At least you can escape to your treehouse.”

I didn’t feel lucky. But I felt a real kinship with Bryan at that moment. We were more alike than I would have guessed when I hauled him from the river. Maybe we would become even better friends than Wendy and I had been. “Yeah. I can. And it beats watching Mom drink herself to sleep every night.”

He shook his head, “Fuck. Our moms must be sisters. When my mom comes home from working her shift at the diner, she’ll drink booze and smoke pot until she passes out.”
Yep. Kindred spirits. My chuckle was dry as I climbed off the mattress and went over to the ammo crate. I rooted around, shifting board games like Candy Land out of the way. Pushed my paperback copy of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory aside until I found a deck of playing cards. “See, I knew there was a reason I rescued your skinny ass.”

I grabbed the other chair and sat at the old dining table and shuffled the cards, “Come on, let’s play some Go Fish.”

We sat there for more than an hour in nothing more than our underwear and built our collection of cards and talked. By the time we finished playing a couple of games, my throat was hoarse, but I felt more alive than I had since my dad died. I wish I had met Bryan when he first enrolled our school back in April; maybe I could have helped him to avoid getting picked on and called names. But one thing was for sure. I wanted to hang out with him as much as possible over the summer. Maybe I was a lesbian, maybe he was gay. Or maybe our first experiences wouldn’t define us. Maybe nothing would happen between us. But whatever may come, I wanted to share it with this long-haired boy who was a year and a half younger than me.

After the game, I fetched our clothes from the roof. They were warm but dry. When Bryan slid his pants up, covering his underwear, I could have sworn I saw a bulge. When I put my shirt on, my cheeks grew warm as I felt his eyes on me. Maybe he was just as curious about me as I was about him. Only time would tell.

Back on the ground, the sun was sliding down the western sky. Brain said, “Thanks for everything, Erin. I’m really glad we met. You’re the coolest person I’ve met since moving to Zavalla.”

The look he gave me melted my heart. God, he was such a beautiful boy. I flushed, “Ah, yeah. Well, I couldn’t let the one boy who might not be silly and stupid do himself in.”

The words felt absurd and not as sincere as I felt. I didn’t’ know what to say and I couldn’t take back the silly words. I stepped forward and put my arms around his shoulders and hugged him. I let go almost immediately, uncertain if I had done the right thing. Bryan’s arms came up and wrapped around my back and he returned the hug. It was over in an instant. I still didn’t know what to say, so I turned and started back toward the house I shared with my mom. A few moments later, heard a tuneless whistle and turned and saw Bryan walk back toward the road.

Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

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