Month: December 2021 (Page 2 of 3)

The Treehouse – Chapter 7
By
Caliboy1991

Erin
When we beached the canoe along the shoreline behind the house, we took a couple of minutes to put our shorts and tank tops back on before heading to the house. I wanted to stop every few feet and kiss Bryan again. Maybe it was only kissing, but I wanted his lips against mine and my tongue in his mouth. But I controlled myself. After all, we had stayed out longer than intended.

After showing Bryan the joys of French kissing, we smeared more Coppertone on each other’s bodies before going back into the water. I had just smeared his chest with the sweet-smelling lotion, I had plenty of excess on my hands, so I worked my hand lower until I reached what I figured was close to three inches of boy-meat. He gasped and gripped the blanket when I wrapped my lotion drenched fingers around his pole. This was even better than a few days earlier when I jacked him for the first time. The lotion cut the friction down to next to nothing and my fist slid up and down his boner, eliciting wordless moans of pleasure from him. He didn’t last any longer. Within a minute, he thrashed as his little cock spasmed and kicked in my hand. And I enjoyed it just as much as the first time.

The memory was fantastic. I could hardly wait to do it to him again. But I set the thought aside when we reached the back door. I shivered as a blast of chilled air hit me in my face. Even though we were both dressed enough to keep my mom, when sober, off my back, I wanted to check on her.

The TV was playing; David Brinkley was on the news, talking about what I didn’t care. Mom lay stretched out on the couch. At some point earlier in the day, she must have gotten up and gone out. She was dressed in a modest white blouse and blue jeans. Unopened bottles of Jim Beam and Jack Daniels were on the coffee table, answering the question of where she’d gone. A cheap bottle of tequila was half empty, explaining her current state of inebriation.

I left her there. Bryan had emptied the water bottle and bottles of Coke from the Igloo and was washing it out in the sink when I came back into the kitchen. “Mom’s dead to the world. Somehow or another, she drove to the liquor store and restocked her supplies.”

When I opened the fridge, I found a couple of six packs of beer, as well as some groceries. I was grateful that she had picked up some food, but had she not, we would have managed. More than once since Dad died, I had been forced to raid Mom’s purse and ride my bike to the grocery store so we would have something to eat in the house.

I scrounged around and found some spaghetti pasta and sauce. I was an old hat at fixing spaghetti. Back when my dad was still alive, when Mom had to work and couldn’t fix dinner, spaghetti was our go-to meal.

I found a pot and as I filled it with water, I said, “Bry, there’s a sauce pan under the oven. Can you get it out?”

The rest of fixing dinner went like that. When I needed help, Bryan was there. While we watched the pasta boil in salted water, I slipped an arm around his waist and pulled him close. How in just a week had he become an anchor in my life? Something in the back of my mind told me that Mom’s alcoholism was going to cause her problems. And I hoped and prayed I would have Bryan to help me get through whatever shit might eventually come my way.

He rested his head on my shoulder as I stirred the pasta. With Wendy, I had thought I’d known love. After all, she and I had lots of fun over at her place. And I had loved it when she had played with my pussy even more than when I had played with hers. But when she moved away, I hadn’t felt like there was a hole in my heart where she had once been. And even though Bryan was two years younger than Wendy, I felt closer to him in just a week than what I had after several years of friendship with her. I wasn’t ready to call it love, not yet. But I was very glad for him being there with me.

When the spaghetti was ready, we ate at the dining room table, a couple of plates between us, piled high with pasta, sharing a liter bottle of Dr. Pepper. I was happy to share the time with him, but after a day in the sun, we weren’t very talkative. Our energy needed recharging.

Bryan washed the dishes while I made a plate of leftovers for Mom and put it in the fridge, along with enough for another full meal the next day, if we wanted. While he wiped down the table, I checked on my mom again. Some stupid science fiction show was playing on the TV and Mom was exactly where I had left her. While me and Bryan had been eating, she slipped from passed-out drunk to sleeping off her bender. The larger part of me wanted to leave her there. But she was my mom and even though I felt abandoned by her, I didn’t have it in me to treat her the same way.

I knelt beside her, “Mom.”

The snoring stopped and a moment later her blood-shot eyes peered back at me, “Oh, good morning, Pumpkin.”

I forced the smile to stay on my face. Every time I heard the work pumpkin, I wanted to scream. “It’s actually evening. There’s some spaghetti in the fridge for you, and leftovers enough for tomorrow.”

As her eyes focused on me, I could see her mind was still addled from alcohol. “Spaghetti?”

I bobbed my head, “Yeah.”

She wiped her mouth as though realizing how much the booze made it taste like shit. She reached for an empty tumbler and poured it full from the tequila bottle. She had enough hand-to-eye coordination to do that and enough of a memory to say, “Can you get me that spaghetti?”

I turned to go back to the kitchen. Bryan stood in the doorway between the living and the dining room. I worried he might say something stupid, after all, he was a boy and boys are known for saying and doing stupid things. But I wasn’t prepared for the pain in his eyes.

When I hurried past him to grab Mom’s plate, he followed me. I put a finger into the middle of the pasta. It wasn’t hot enough to burn, but it didn’t need to be warmed over either.

Bryan waited by the bar, “I’m sorry, Erin. I didn’t realize how bad things are.”

I wanted to cry. Mom had been my burden since Dad’s passing. I had carried it alone. Even when Wendy and I had done stuff together, I’d always gone over to her place. I had wanted no one else to see my mom, not in this condition. I stopped in front of him with the plate in my hands, “Please, Bryan, don’t tell anyone. I know my mom is fucked up, but I can handle it by myself.”

He pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrow before he finally said, “Okay. My mom drinks and smokes a lot too. I guess I understand some.”

When I set the plate down on the coffee table, the tumbler was half-empty already. Mom’s eyes had that glazed-over look, and I knew she wouldn’t last long before returning to her oblivion.

Back in the kitchen again, I smiled apologetically at Bryan, “I guess we both have pretty fucked up lives. Sorry you saw that. You still up for a sleepover?”

Bryan’s eyes shifted from the door back to me, “Hell yeah. I wish we could just live in your treehouse all the time. It would be so much easier.”

I felt better hearing him say that. “Me too. Well, except boys are kind of stinky and you’d start to really smell after a few days.”

That smile I was growing to love appeared on his face, “Maybe. But I’d be in good company. Right?”

A giggle slipped from me, “Yeah. Before we go back out, you’re welcome to use the bathroom or take a shower.”

When we slipped through the living room over toward the hallway that led to my bedroom, mom never turned to look at us. But the tumbler was empty, and she had barely touched the food.

I showed him my bedroom. The bed was a mess. With Mom not staying on my case, I didn’t see any purpose in making my room look neat. Until now. As Bryan took in my room, for the first time in a long time, I wished I had taken the time to straighten it. That’s when it sank in that what this boy thought of me mattered.

I took hold of his hand and pulled him toward the door to the bathroom. This part of the house held my bedroom, a guest bedroom and a bathroom shared between them. Both bedrooms had doors leading directly to the bathroom, so I could go to the bathroom without going into the hallway.

The bathroom was cleaner than my bedroom, although it wasn’t very big. There was a Formica countertop and sink on the wall next to the guest bedroom. On the wall beside my bedroom was the bathtub. The tub could be used as a shower too, which is what I usually did. On the other end of the bathroom was a toilet. I had cleaned it that morning. “It’s not much, but when I’m not in the treehouse, these are my digs.”

Bryan pulled the curtain back and looked at the tub and shower. “Smells and looks nicer than the one Mom and I share at Granny’s.”

My stomach fluttered as I thought about being alone again with him, “You can take a shower before we go back over to the treehouse.”

He looked at me through the mirror over the counter, “Are you going to?”

I lifted my arms and put my nose against my smooth pit. There was a hint of body odor. “Do you think I need to?”

The flush in Bryan’s cheeks was enough for me to guess he was thinking about being naked with me. He murmured, “Maybe.”

If my mom wasn’t such a lush, I would never risk having him shower in the house. Instead, I flashed him a smile, “We could shower together. If you want.”

The way his cheeks grew even redder was endearing. He shrugged, “You think it would be okay?”

I turned to him and took hold of the hem of his tank top and pulled it over his head. Between the liberal coating of Coppertone and all the sun, Bryan’s tan was coming along nicely. “Yeah. She’ll be passed out drunk by the time we finish.”

I pulled my shirt off and tossed it on top of his before I unbuttoned my cut-offs. I stepped out of them and kicked them to the side while Bryan stood there looking at me. His eyes shifted between my chest and my panties. I wondered if it was simply because I was older than him that made him so passive, or if there was more going on inside his head. He was a boy; it was hard to say.

I locked the door to my bedroom and checked the locks on the doors to the hall and guest bedroom before turning back to him. Mom might be shit-faced drunk, but there wasn’t any reason to be stupid about it, either. He reached for his zipper, but I said, “Wait.”

He watched me as I hooked my fingers in my panties and slid them down my legs as sexily as I could before dropping them atop our shirts. The look of adoration in Bryan’s eyes as he stared at my puffy lips gave me the confidence to stand toe-to-toe and steal a kiss before I knelt before him and took hold of his zipper. Looking up at him, I could see the stunned look of wonderment on his face as I unsnapped the button and unzipped him. After working the shorts down to his ankles, the obscene lump in his briefs told me at least one part of him loved my every move.

Then I grabbed the elastic band of his briefs and pulled down on them, inch by inch. A few inches and his little cock kept the band from sliding down until I pulled the elastic away and freed him. Once his briefs were below his knees, gravity did the rest of the work. And there he was, naked and beautiful. And kneeling, my face was so close, I could have leaned in and taken him in my mouth like a lollypop. I wasn’t sure how he would have responded. Hell, I wasn’t sure how I would like it. I stood and pulled the shower curtain back and we climbed in and ran the water.

After allowing the water to warm, I flipped the toggle on the faucet and hot water gushed down on us. I took the bar of Dove soap and handed it to Bryan, “Can you wash my back?”

My spine tingled as the boy’s uncertain hands, lathered with flowery smelling soap, worked their way from my spine, along the small of my back, all the way down to my butt. I spun around, offering him my chest, “Thanks. Do you mind getting my front?”

Bryan’s eyes grew wide, “You sure?”

I nodded, took his soapy hands and brought them to my chest. I’m sure it would have looked sexier if I had bigger boobs, but it was just the two of us and given how much time Bryan spent staring at my chest, I figured he would enjoy it as much as me.

I sucked in a sharp breath of pleasure when he kneaded my buds, rubbing soap around them. Perhaps because of the intimacy we shared, my tits were more sensitive than normal. I longed for the tingling feeling after he moved his hands lower, washing my stomach and abs. A couple of inches below my belly button, his hands tremored and paused.

Sure, I had touched him on his dick several times. But Bryan had yet to reciprocate. Maybe it was my fault. Wendy, being a girl, knew how to touch me down there, the same way I knew how to make her cum. Bryan was a boy. That first day we met, I was powerfully curious about what he kept hidden in his underwear. And he was a boy; he couldn’t possibly satisfy the ache between my legs like Wendy had. Could he?

The tremor in his hand didn’t give me confidence. But it was only fair that I open myself to him. I took his hand and guided it down across my smooth mons. At first, I was content to let him explore. His fingers slid across my soapy skin, reverently caressing my pubic mound. Maybe I was impatient to show him how to please me, maybe he was scared to go further, but after what seemed like an hour, but was probably closer to a minute, I took his hand in mine, slid it across my hairless mound until it slid between my lips, into my slit. I pushed until I felt his finger hit my tiny hood. I pushed a bit more until the tip of his finger brushed over my clit. That touch sent a spark through me as I hissed in pleasure.

I moaned, “That’s it, Bry. Right there.”

Sure, my figures were wrapped around his index finger, guiding him over my clit. But it was Bryan’s finger, and it was so much more powerful than my own touch. After a few minutes of me guiding his finger around and over my clit, I pulled my hand back and let the boy continue. His finger played with that little button of mine, tickling the tip, and then rubbing all around it. I moaned again as I felt him tease something near to a cum from me.

He didn’t stop, but he leaned forward, “Does it feel good?”

I didn’t want him to ever stop. He may not have had Wendy’s familiarity with my parts, but my body craved his touch, even more than I’d ever wanted Wendy’s. Even though he was too timid to find my vagina, my body hummed from the tingles radiating from my clit. A rush of pleasure washed over me and I bit my lower lip too late to stop a muffled moan as I nodded.

He redoubled the way his finger worked my clit and more pleasure shot through me, spreading from between my legs and like a wave washing over me, my whole body shuddered as I came. As my legs shook, Bryan stilled his finger, although leaving it in place, “You okay, Erin?”

I squeezed my eyes shut as the pleasurable tingles made me feel powerful thoughts about the boy touching me. I nodded, “Y-, yeah. You just made me cum, Bry. Fuck, dude, that was incredible.”

And I meant every word. Wendy had given me deeper orgasms, but none more satisfying. Bryan was just learning. Give him more time and he would surpass Wendy’s expertise.

Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

The Treehouse – Chapter 6
By
Caliboy1991

Bryan
“If you’re going to smoke that shit, get it out of the house, goddammit!”

I clenched my teeth in frustration. Granny’s voice practically rattled the trailer. Mom hadn’t had a shift at the local diner in a couple of days and was bored. And like usual, when his mom got bored, she smoked. And if the sound of his granny’s voice was any indication, Mom was smoking weed.

I closed my Sgt. Rock comic and grabbed a tank top from the floor. I held it to my nose; it passed the smell test, and I pulled it on and closed the door to my cramped bedroom. Granny sat in her old recliner, facing the TV. Bob Barker was on the screen telling some contestant to come on down.

I found Mom sitting on the steps of the trailer. The sweet-spicy odor of weed assaulted my senses when I walked down the cinder-block stairs. Mom’s eyes were glassy when she looked up at me, “Oh, hi, honey. You off to play?”

Her eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed. She and some guy she had met at one of the local bars had come home last night late. Her room was at one end of the trailer, next to mine. They had been loud, fucking a couple of times before her hook-up had left and I finally fell asleep.

I wanted to yell at her, tell her to go over to that guy’s place if they were going to fuck all night. But I didn’t want to get the shit beat out of me, and thought it best to just answer the question, “Yeah. Gonna go hang out with Eri-, Erik. You working tonight?”

Mom took a hit on the blunt and blew the smoke away from me, “I think so. May see if Jimmy Todd wants to hang out afterward.”

I turned away and took a step toward the road to hide my grimace. I didn’t know if I could take another night of moans and her bed shaking. My mask slipped, “You going over to his place after work?”

A hitch in Mom’s throat told me I had gone too far. Her voice was icy, “No. Why?”

I wanted to kick myself for stirring her anger. I also wanted to unload on her and tell her how her choices were fucking my life up. But I couldn’t. After all, if she hadn’t moved us back to Zavalla, I would never have met Erin. We were fast becoming more than just best friends.

We went into town the day before to trade in some Coke bottles for their deposits, and that had been a couple of days after the rainstorm, which had led to the most amazing night of my life. My feelings for Erin for were complicated. It felt good to have a friend, especially after the rough month since moving to town. But the feelings I had for Erin new to me.
Instead of answering Mom directly, still facing away, I said, “It’s nothing. Do you mind if I spend the night over at Eric’s?”

Some moms would have said, “Let me talk to his mom.” Not my mom. She shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

With that out of the way, I grabbed my bike and headed toward the road. A couple of minutes later, I veered off the road and rode over patches of grass and pine needles toward the tree house. I sighed, wishing I could sort out my emotions, because I wasn’t about to stop hanging out with Erin, no matter my inner confusion.

I jumped off my bike as it rolled to a stop under the treehouse. I laid it against the tree and called, “Erin, you around?”

The surrounding trees absorbed the sound. The only response was a pair of robins chirping happily in a nearby tree. I called the girl’s name a couple of more times before climbing the ladder. There was no way I was going back home. Even so, I didn’t know how Erin would handle me going into the treehouse. So, I did the next best thing and sat on the outer ledge that ran around the outside of the treehouse, dangling my legs over the edge. I was well on my way to overcoming my fear of heights, and now hanging my legs off the ledge only bothered me a little.

I lay my head back, resting it against the treehouse wall. This was the first time I hadn’t found her here when I arrived. I debated with myself whether I should go over to her house and knock. I hadn’t made my mind up when my eyes closed and I drifted off to sleep.

A voice gently massaged my consciousness, “Hey, Bry.”

I heard it a couple of more times. Then Erin’s voice got loud, “Dude, wake up.”

My eyes shot open to a canopy of leaves masking the rising sun. Then Erin’s angular face filled my vision. Her strands of sun-bleached blonde hair were messily parted to her right. When she smiled at me, my heart warmed. I was never happier to see her.

“Oh, hi.”

Erin sat beside me and dangled her legs over the side, “How’s it hanging, Bry?”

I sat up, rubbing the back of my head where it had rested against the treehouse wall, “Okay, I guess.”

She gave me a mischievous grin, “No, dude. You’re supposed to say, ‘Mighty low,’ or something like that.”

This was new to me. “Why?”

She leaned against me, her bare shoulder touching mine. We both wore tank-tops that had better fit us last year. Her voice was low, conspiratorial, and also filled with mirth, “What do you have that hangs down?”

It finally clicked. “My balls?”

Erin rested a hand on my knee, “Ding, ding! Give the man a prize.” Then she repeated her question, “So, Bry, how’s it hanging?”

I couldn’t help giggling. I was glad to have my friend beside me, “Um, really low?”

Erin burst out laughing, “You’re so much fun, Bry. How long have you been waiting?”

The sun was blocked, but it was warmer than it had been when I arrived, “Dunno. A while, I guess. Where were you?”

“I had to take the kids for a swim and take a shower.”

Listening to Erin was an education unto itself. “Kids? For a swim?”

She leaned against me, laughing until she squeaked out, “Oh, jeez, you’re too much, man. Taking the kids for a swim means I was taking a shit.”

If it had been anyone other than Erin, I would have been angry. But not with her. “Oh. I hadn’t heard that before. So, what do you want to do today?”

“There’s a cool place up-river from here. You wanna see it?” Erin said as she climbed to her feet.

She could have told me we were going to go hunting slugs or looking for toxic sewage and I would have been game. So long as we could hang out together. “Sure.”

On the way back to her house, she said, “We need to pack a lunch, grab the sunscreen. We’ll be gone most of the day.”

My shoulders were chilled as she made baloney sandwiches. His mom really kept the A/C low. As if thinking of her would make her appear, Erin’s mom shuffled into the kitchen. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, “Good morning, pumpkin. Who’s your little friend?”

I felt a moment of déjà vu. It had only been a couple of days since I met Erin’s mom. My friend’s eyes narrowed and her nose flared. “This is Bryan. He’s a friend from school.”

Over the past week, spending so much time with her, I was learning to tell when the girl was upset. The flare of her nostrils was one of her tells. And her nostrils were flaring. Instead of responding, she opened the fridge and handed her mom a bottle of bear. Her mom popped the top and took a drink. Her eyes lost focus for a moment as she took another swig. Then she looked over at me, “Good morning, pumpkin. Who’s your little friend?”

Erin sent a warning look at me and shook her head, “This is Bryan, Mom. Why don’t you go watch TV?”

Once we had the Igloo cooler packed with sandwiches and drinks, we were out the back door, heading to the river. Erin cast one glance behind her, “When she drinks, she forgets things. And she’s almost always drinking. The booze really fucks with her memory.”

I dodged an ant pile, “Does she work?”

Erin shook her head, “Before Dad got sick, she did. But since then, she gets money from the government for me and a check from Dad’s insurance policy for herself.

We hadn’t moved the canoe since the storm. The river was back at its regular level, so we had to push it about twenty feet back into the water. Once she set the Igloo in the canoe, Erin retrieved the Coppertone bottle, “Before long, we’ll be tanned enough that we won’t get burned. But until then, we best put this stuff on.”

She pulled her tank-top off and squirted the goop onto her chest and rubbed it in. “There’s not usually anyone fishing up river. And if they are, they’ll probably think I’m a boy.”

I certainly wasn’t going to let Erin be the only shirtless person in the canoe. I tossed my shirt into the boat and took a dollop from the bottle and rubbed it across my chest. When I finished, she turned her back to me, “Get me good back there, Bry. Then I’ll get you.”

I loved the feel of her silky skin under my lotion-covered fingers. Touching her like that made me hard. But I was wearing my favorite cut-offs, so there was little risk of being seen. Once I finished smearing her back with the stuff, she returned the favor. When done, she pointed toward my seat, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

The river flowed languidly along with barely a current. Working our way against it wasn’t very hard; Erin was a strong paddler. After an hour of paddling, Erin scanned the side of the river as though looking for something. She used her paddle to point to a tree covered peninsula that curved out from the west bank. It was shaped like a fishing hook, creating a natural J. She steered us into the inlet created by the peninsula.

Grassy spots were interspersed among the trees on the peninsula. Erin pointed at one spot, “That’s where we’ll eat lunch. Dad and I used to come here and have picnics.”

She steered us toward the spot. Once the bow touched the shore, I jumped out and tied the canoe to one of the trees. Once I secured the boat, I studied the cove formed by the curving peninsula. Cut off from the rest of the river, there was no visible current. Also, without the current carrying silt, the water was clearer. I could see the bottom out to a depth of several feet, something that wasn’t possible in the rest of the river.

By the time I finished taking in the tranquil surroundings, Erin had spread a blanket over the grass and set the Igloo next to it. “Whatcha think of this?”

She was right. Unless you knew about this place, you’d never know it by cruising up and down the river. “I think it’s pretty tight.”

Erin grinned as she shimmied out of her shorts. She wore a pair of white panties. When she saw the stunned expression on my face, she quipped, “It’s more comfortable this way. Nobody’s going to come into this inlet, Bry. The times my dad brought me here, we never saw a soul.”

While Erin sat down in just her panties and rooted through the cooler for our sandwiches, I followed her lead and came out of my shorts. Except for the fly at the front, my briefs and her panties looked almost the same.

After devouring a sandwich, Erin leaned back, “I haven’t come here since my dad died. But coming up here, I feel closer to him than anywhere else. We’d go swimming here when we had our picnics.”

At the word swimming, I realized we didn’t bring any swimsuits, “You plan on swimming?”

She dipped her head, “Sure. Why not? This is perfect swimming weather.”

“But we didn’t bring swimsuits.”

“So? We’ll go skinny dipping.”

I plopped the last of my sandwich in my mouth at that. I had nothing clever to say. Plus, I should have known. Erin told me before, she enjoyed skinning dipping in the river. She probably thought I was on board with it, too. The truth was, I was. Well, the part about being naked together. The swimming part would take some getting used to.

“Um, okay.”

My hesitancy came through. She leaned over and even though we were alone, she whispered, “It’ll be fun. We can see each other naked.”

She punctuated her words with a quick kiss and then grabbed her panties and tugged them off. My breath was caught in my throat at the sight of those pale lips between her legs. Before I knew it, she gripped the elastic band on my underwear, “Please, Bry. It’ll be fun.”

Was she asking me please about going skinning dipping or because she was poised to pull my underwear off? Throughout most of lunch, my penis had given me a break. But as I felt her fingers against my hips, the blood flowed back in, turning it stiff. “O-, okay.”

She tugged at my underwear, sliding the front part down. She pulled the elastic away from my skin far enough for my stiffy to pop free. When I lifted my butt, the back side of my underwear slid down and she made quick work, tossing them aside.

I caught my hands as they wanted to cover myself, and just rested them on my hips. I may not be sure about getting in the water naked, but the way it felt to have Erin staring at me felt incredible, and I was happy to just lay there and be stared at.

After a couple of minutes, Erin took my hand and pulled, “Okay, we can fool around later, I want to go swimming now.”

I was still processing her words that we would fool around later, as she dragged me to my feet and into the water. Summers in East Texas could be brutally hot and humid. And the water felt amazing. Once I was in past my waist, Erin let go and swam into the inlet’s deeper water.

It took a few minutes for me to stop worrying about whether there were snakes in the water or a snapping turtle swimming around that ate penises. Erin’s energy was contagious. We were soon splashing water at each other. That led to wrestling in water up to our chests. She was bigger, stronger, but I still dunked her almost as often as she did me.

By the time we finally dragged ourselves out of the water, the skin on our fingers was wrinkled and I collapsed with a tired sigh on the blanket. Erin went down on all fours before turning on her side and laying against me, “How was that, Bry?”

I couldn’t believe I had ever been scared of skinny dipping. I would happily strip off my clothes and follow Erin into any pool of water she chose. “You were right. It was fun.”

She kissed my cheek, “Turn on your side, Bry. Let’s kiss some more.”

When I rolled onto my side, our faces were even with each other. I could feel Erin’s buds against my chest. My stiffy lay flat, smashed between Erin’s lower abs and my pubic bone. She murmured, “Yeah, you feel good, Bry.”

“Y-, you too.”

Her lips pushed against mine. Every time we kissed, I tried to figure out what Erin did and then copy it. I had stopped puckering like a fish several kisses before. Now, my lips formed the same O as Erin’s. Then she did something I didn’t expect. Her tongue pushed through my kiss, straight into my mouth. Right away, I realized this was something more. I had watched enough TV and movies and knew what a French kiss was. There was something more sexual about a French kiss than just a regular, and my lips opened wider to give Erin easier access to my mouth.

My mouth tingled as her tongue explored my every inch. It was as if bright lights were exploding inside my mind, sending jolts of pleasure running down my spine into my stiffy. When she pulled her tongue back, my instinct kicked in. My tongue wasn’t as sure as Erin’s had been. But I pushed it through her lips, running it along her teeth. Beyond her teeth, I felt another jolt of pleasure when I found her tongue lying in wait. As I pushed my tongue into her mouth, her tongue slid along mine, turning my mind foggy.

My brain was mush when I pulled my tongue from Erin’s mouth. She had wrapped her arms around my neck and when the kiss ended, our faces stayed close together. Her tongue darted out and licked the tip of my nose, “And that’s how the French kiss.”

My pulse raced. My heart thundered in my chest. The emotions I felt for her, I didn’t know how to put them into words. What I knew was I wanted to be next to her every moment of the day. And that reminded me, “I asked my mom, and I can spend the night if that okay.”

Erin’s grin got even wider at that. “Awesome. You saw Mom already. She’s probably going to be too shit-faced by the time we get back to help with dinner.”

Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

The Treehouse – Chapter 5
By
Caliboy1991

Erin
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.”

Bryan
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.”

Erin
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
By
Caliboy1991

Bryan
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?”

Erin
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.”
Bryan

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?”

“Huh?”

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?”

“Piss.”

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
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