The Treehouse – Chapter 10
Going through Mom’s makeup felt weird, but Erin needed a white base for our Halloween costumes. Mom had plenty of makeup, but she had scattered it haphazardly on her vanity. The clutter was a testament to the chaos of her life. I found some mascara tubes, which I thought would go well for the skeletal makeup before eventually finding the white base. Naturally, it was at the bottom of her makeup bag.
I hurried to her door and looked down the hall, into the living room. Granny was where I left her, watching TV. I buried both tubes in my jeans pocket. The last thing I wanted was to let her know I’d been in Mom’s room. Although, as I turned out the light and gently closed the door, I wondered what it mattered. Mom hadn’t been home all week, although she and Granny had gotten into a fight on the phone the previous day when Granny finally figured out Mom had been staying over at Jimmy Todd’s place since the weekend.
It was hard to care at this point. If I hadn’t been eating over at Erin’s more often than at home, I don’t know what I would have done. It’s not that the pantry was empty, but when it came to buying groceries, Mom was determined to live the life she wanted, and Granny’s Social Security checks didn’t go far enough to include food for me or Mom.
On my way out the door, I leaned over and gave Granny a quick hug, “Hanging out with Eric.” I’d gotten good at remembering what I called Erin when talking to my granny. “We’re going trick or treating. Then we’re spending the night over there so we can count our candy.”
Granny reluctantly turned from her TV, “You kids have fun and save your complaining when you have a belly-ache. Stay off the highways. And if you see your momma in town, tell her to call me.”
I bobbed my head as I hurried out the door. I was pedaling toward Erin’s house as fast as my wheels could carry me. Between school and our families, we weren’t able to spend as much time together as he had during the summer, but we walked to and from the bus stop each day, and I still spent most evenings over at her place until it was time to come home. I preferred to stay below my granny’s already apathetic radar.
I parked my bike behind Erin’s house and knocked on the back door before opening it, “Hello!”
Her voice echoed from her room, “Come on back.”
I found her mom eating something from a plate. An open bottle of beer stood on the coffee table and the TV inanely blared at her. It was as if I didn’t even exist as I passed through toward Erin’s room.
I found Erin in her bathroom. My eyes lit up to find her topless. She glared at the mirror. When her eyes lit on me, she grabbed a long-sleeve t-shirt and tossed it to me, “Here’s your shirt. I didn’t realize when I bought them, they’d be such a snug fit.”
I tried to ignore her buds as I shucked my t-shirt and donned the black shirt. When I pulled it over my head, the stretchy material clung to my torso. Once I freed my head, I could see the shirt was silk-screened with bones and was tight against my skin. “You try yours on yet?” I asked.
She grumbled, “It’s too tight.”
The fabric fit me like a glove. To a boy who was lucky to get second-hand clothes, the shirt was nearly perfect. “How?”
She rolled her eyes at me before grabbing it and pulling it on. Once her arms were through the sleeves, my eyes were drawn to her problem. “Oh.”
Oh, indeed. After five months together, I hadn’t noticed the growth in her chest; it had been very modest. But the stretchy, form-fitting fabric hugged her torso in ways no other shirt ever had, and the slight swelling of her breasts seemed to be magnified by the stretchy material. For the first time, I realized how puffy were her nipples.
She shook her head after the pulled the shirt off, “What the hell am I going to do, Bry? I don’t have any undershirts or a training bra. I blew the clothing money from Mom on jeans and button-down shirts.”
“Maybe we can cover them with something,” I offered, “do you have any ACE bandages?”
The tone in Erin’s voice worried me. While she didn’t care about me seeing her, a reason she wore the button-down boy’s shirts was they were baggy enough to hide her underdeveloped chest. In that moment, I was ready to run back to the trailer to see if I could find any ACE bandages in my granny’s bathroom, even though I would create a shit-storm getting into her stuff.
She shrugged, “I’ll go check my mom’s bathroom.”
A few minutes later, she returned with a wad of tan wrap. “There was some in Dad’s medical supplies. I guess it’s a good thing Mom hasn’t thrown any of that out yet.”
A few minutes later, we wrapped her chest tightly with the elastic bandage, reducing the small swells almost to nothingness. She wore one of her mom’s undershirts over the wrapping. Once she dressed in the skeletal shirt, she looked like a boy again.
She helped me with my makeup, and by the time twilight fell, we were two skeletons. The ride into town on our bikes put us in one neighborhood where every home was lit up. Kids and teens moved from house to house, trick or treating. We were lucky we didn’t see any of the bullying sort from the junior high while we filled our bags full of cavity inducing candy.
It was about halfway between sundown and sunup when Erin and I dragged our haul of candy to the treehouse. We had swung through her house long enough for her to check on her mom and for us to wipe the makeup from our faces. And we felt exhausted. But the funny thing was, when we sat on the mattress and dumped the mountain of candy onto the sleeping bags, our fatigue fled.
“I’ll trade you these Milk Duds for those M&Ms, Bry.”
I had plenty of M&Ms and Milk Duds. But I was more of an M&M guy. Still, the look Erin gave me was enough for me to nod, “Sure.”
A few minutes later, she took her tops off, “Help me unravel this bandage. I guess the next time I get out to the clothing store, I’m going to have to pick out some undershirts, maybe a bra.
When we finished unwrapping her, I eyed her chest. I’m not sure how I missed it, but she really was budding. Her swelling chest protruded almost an inch. Her nipples and areolas another half inch. I wondered if she’d be able to get to the end of the eighth grade still hiding them in a boy’s button-down shirts. But I didn’t know if I should agree with her. I hoped I was playing it safe, “You look just fine to me.”
A grin split across her face, “I’m glad you like my tits, Bry. But you wouldn’t want other guys seeing my nipples poking through my shirt, would you?”
The idea of other guys seeing Erin the way I did turned my stomach sour and made me unhappy. What we shared was special. “No way.”
Erin slid out of the nylon black pants, silkscreened with more bones, until she was in her pantie. She crawled toward me, until her hands were on either side of my hips, “Why don’t I show you how much I like it when you play with my tits?”
She made quick work of my costume pants and underwear, pushing me to lie down on the mattress. The candy rolled onto the floor, but as she took my stiffy in her hand, I forgot about everything but us. When her lips wrapped around my bullet shaped head, I moaned in pleasure. I hoped I’d never get used to the intense pleasure pulsing through part of me.
After a bit, with Erin bobbing, sucking, and licking, that familiar tingle radiated outward from the base of my stiffy. I closed my eyes, enjoying the way she sucked on me, and when the moment of my dry cum came, I went rigid from the powerful orgasm while the tingles gushed throughout my body.
Almost before my orgasm faded away, Erin’s tongue was twisting around mine as she kissed me. When our lips parted, she said, “My turn, Bry. Make me feel the same way.”
“There’s a meat thermometer in the drawer by the oven, Bry. I’ll open the door and let you get take the bird’s temperature.”
I opened up the oven and felt the intense heat wash over me. Bryan, dressed in a pair of khaki pants I had bought for him the same day he and I had bought my first training bra, held up the meat thermometer and leaned forward and stuck the steel tip into the bird.
After a protracted moment, he said, “Shit, it’s hot. Um, the thermometer says one-hundred-seventy. Is that hot enough?”
A voice from the doorway between the dining room and living room said, “Yes. If you leave it in much longer, the turkey will dry out.”
I glanced at my mom. Her face was pale and angular. How much weight had she lost since Dad died? Too much, I wagered. But she had taken the time to get cleaned and dressed. Her green blouse would have been more suited to Christmas than Thanksgiving.
I grabbed some potholders and pulled the heavy pan from the oven and set it on the countertop. The kitchen, already filled with aromas of holiday food, made my mouth water. By the time everything was ready, the clock on the wall showed it was a few minutes after noon. When we sat down at the table, me on one side, with Bryan at one end and Mom across from me. My dad’s seat, at the head of the table, was empty.
With school, taking care of Mom, and discovering how much Bryan meant to me, I hadn’t had much time to dwell on my dad. This was the first Thanksgiving without him, and in that moment, I felt his loss particularly hard.
Mom glanced toward the empty chair, eyes watering. “Well, Jim used to say a blessing. It seems fitting, but I don’t know what to say.”
I still blamed God for taking my dad from me; He and I weren’t on speaking terms. The uncomfortable silence lingered until Bryan said, “Um, I don’t really know what to say, but I can say a prayer.”
Mom smiled, a look of relief on her face. Despite the way her alcoholism ravaged her memory, she had eventually started to recall Bryan’s name and the fact that he and I were best friends. Being the tomboy I was, she didn’t know just how deep our friendship went, and I saw no reason to explain it.
Bryan looked so cute as he swept a lock of his long hair from in front of his eyes before clasping his hands above the table. “God, bless this food. Um, bless Erin and her mom. Thanks for giving me a great friend. Bless the TV dinner my granny is eating, and bless my mom, where ever she is now. Amen.”
When Bryan finished, Mom tore her eyes away from the empty chair, “What’s this about your granny and a TV dinner? You know you could have invited her.”
Bryan flushed, uncomfortable at my mom’s attention, “Erin and I told her she was welcome. But she just wanted to watch the parades on TV and eat a TV dinner.”
I didn’t like to see Bryan uncomfortable, “Yeah, Mom. I went over there myself and invited her.”
It was the gospel truth, but both Bryan and I were relieved when his granny rebuffed us. After all, she still thought my name was Erik. The longer we could hold off admitting our deception, the better off we’d be.
I stood and grabbed a fork and put some turkey and gravy on Mom’s plate, and then did the same for Bryan and me. While I did this, Mom said, “Bryan, be a saint for me. Grab a beer for me from the fridge. I need a bit of the hair of the dog to chase away this headache.”
Bryan cut his eyes to me. Mom hadn’t promised to not drink, only that she would celebrate the holiday with us. Still, if Bryan said no, she would just get up and grab it herself, and probably hold a grudge for the rest of the meal. I hated myself for nodding, but I wanted a bit of normalcy for once with my mom.
Bryan returned with a bottle of Lone Star and gave it to Mom. After she took a long pull, she said, “Now that’ll chase away a hangover. Now, let’s eat.”
About the time the silence became awkward, Bryan, with a forkful of sweet potato casserole in his mouth, spoke around the food, “Did you see any of the floats on TV this morning, Mrs. McBride?”
Mom set the bottle down, and her eyes unfocused. I had woken her up in the living room this morning before Bryan came over. The TV had been showing one of the parades, but I doubted she had paid it any mind. She took another long pull at the bottle of beer, draining it. “I-, I think so. Kermit the Frog floating along, behind Ms. Piggy. Fetch me another beer, okay?”
Bryan traded another look with me as he retrieved another bottle from the fridge. When we had talked about a proper family Thanksgiving meal, I had hoped my mom wouldn’t ruin it by getting drunk. But the last thing I wanted was a scene; that would ruin it more surely than letting her drink.
By the time I brought the pecan and pumpkin pies from the fridge, there were four bottles in front of Mom’s seat at the table. When she saw the pies, she slurred her words, “Ooh, get me a piece of pumpkin pie. Make sure you pile it high with Cool Whip.”
While I dished out slices of pie, Bryant helped by clearing the table. When he set some of the dishes in the sink, he leaned over, “I’m sorry about your mom, Erin. I don’t want to get her more beer, but I don’t think I could stop her if she wanted to get her own.”
I shrugged and sighed, “It’s better this way, Bry. At least she’s not making a scene and you and me get to enjoy our first Thanksgiving as boyfriend and girlfriend.”
I wanted to put the knife down and plant kisses all over him. But I didn’t want to deal with Mom deciding to finally try to mother me. That would really have been awkward. Instead, I handed Bryan my mom’s piece of pie, piled high with Cool Whip, “Take this over to her. You want pecan or pumpkin?”
He took the pie, “Dunno. We always celebrated Thanksgiving in front of the TV watching my step-dad’s football games. Maybe one of each?”
As he took the pie over to my mom, I wondered where the boy put away the food. Even after all those months, he was as skinny and rangy as ever. Maybe slightly taller, but that was it.
Mom’s hand was shaky as she lifted her fork to her mouth. The booze was affecting her. Still, she managed to take the bite before taking another swig of beer. Bryan’s nose wrinkled after taking a bite of pumpkin pie. He chewed it for a moment before spitting it onto his plate, “Gross. People eat this shit?”
Mom was in oblivion. Used to, had I cussed like that, she’d have worn my ass out. Now, she simply reached for another bite. I stuck my tongue out at Bryan, “It’s an acquired taste. Now, if you’re not going to eat the rest of it, give it to me. I will.”
Mom sat at the table, adding to her collection of beer bottles while Bryan and I cleaned up the kitchen. We had enough leftovers to last a week. Once we finished, I came over to Mom, “You want to watch TV?”
Her eyes were bleary and unfocused when she looked up at me. “I’m g-, good, sweetie. I’ll go watch TV.”
But when she stood, she knocked over the chair and staggered against the wall. It took both me and Bryan to help her. We passed right by the door to the living room and took her into her bedroom. I sat her on the edge of her bed. The blouse she had on was expensive silk. She would ruin it is she fell asleep in it. So, I unbuttoned it and slid it from her shoulders. Seeing her in just a bra was a reminder that my modest bumps on my chest were hereditary. Her b-cup bra easily contained her breasts. Even there, the past year had eaten away at her body. Before, she had never been buxom, but there had been more definition.
I pushed her back, laying her down. The red slacks would be a problem. I couldn’t get them off without help. And Mom’s head had barely hit the pillow when she started to snore. I glanced at Bryan, who was staring at Mom’s bra. “Hey. If you wanna stare at some boobs, help me with her pants. You can look at mine. ‘Kay?”
Blushing furiously at being busted, he came over, “How can I help?”
We both climbed onto the bed and, together, we inched her slacks off. I pulled the covers over her. I’m sure when she finally woke, she’d wonder how she got into her underwear. With any luck, she’d just think it was something she did on her own. “Come on, Bry. Let’s get out of here. Let’s hang out in the treehouse.”
A bit later, we had spread one of the sleeping bags across the roof and lay side by side under the clear, sunny sky. It may have been the tale-end of November, but it fairly warm for the day. The sun was almost hot on our faces. The silence between us wasn’t awkward. It was just another thing to be shared and enjoyed between us.
Eventually, Bryan rolled onto his side, “Thanks for inviting me over. With Mom gone and Granny, well, being Granny, today would have sucked a big one if you hadn’t invited me over.”
I rolled onto my side, facing him. His brown eyes held flecks of gold, making them softer than I’d noticed before. My lips touched his for a moment. “After putting up with my mom, I’d like to suck your big one.”
Bryan’s eyes bulged as a smile crept across his face at the same time he flushed red. “You know I’m not very big.”
I pushed him flat against the sleeping bag and crawled on top of him. There was a thrill being in the open air, atop the treehouse. But the way the branches spread out, and the distance between us and anything else, the only way anyone would have seen us is to have flown overhead. It was a risk I was willing to take.
I kissed him harder this time, pushing my tongue through his parted lips. When the kiss ended, I tugged at his shirt, untucking it before I pulled it off and lay it beside us. When I unbuttoned his slacks, Bryan said, “You gonna strip me naked out here?”
I felt heat between my legs. I needed him so much. “Yeah. How else can I suck your big one?” Then, aware of being exposed to nature, I added, “That okay with you?”
He just nodded, moving his hands away from his waist. Once I had unfastened his belt and zipper, I pulled his pants down, catching his underwear, too. Once I placed the rest of his clothes on top of his shirt, I leaned back to admire this gorgeous boy. Six months may have passed since I dragged him out of the Angelina River, and seeing him exposed now, he was a shade taller than that first time. His dick was slightly thicker and longer. But as I ran my hand across his pubic bone, he was as smooth as could be.
A hint of sweat hit my tongue as I licked at his glans. Bryan gasped, “Oh, God, that feels good.”
I loved his sounds. I was more vocal when we had sex, but under the right set of circumstances, Bryan got loud, too. My lips slid down his shaft. Even after several months, the contradiction between soft and hard mesmerized me. His skin was silky soft when I ran my tongue along the underside of his erection. Yet, the blood-engorged muscles underneath were rock hard. When my upper lip touched the place where his shaft and pubic area met, I clamped down and sucked.
“Fuck!” Bryan moaned, “That feels really good.”
The amount of chatter about sex in the eighth-grade girls’ locker room is higher than most adults realize or they’ve simply forgotten. But I’d heard Cheryl bragging to one of her girlfriends about giving one of the ninth graders a blow job. She told them the two worst parts were trying to take all the fourteen-year-old boy’s dick into her mouth without gagging, and the bitterness of his semen when he came. Neither was a problem for me. Bryan might have been longer than three inches, or he might not. It was close. But his dry cums were the best. The thrumming and pulsating of his orgasms in my mouth made me wet with desire, and now I could scarcely wait for that moment under the open sky.
I bobbed, pulling up, dragging his slick, small cock through my lips until his glans pressed against my lips. Then I sank down, keeping my lips tight enough to create lots of friction as his erection slid through. My tongue never stopped moving. When his glans was at my lips, my tongue swiped across his tiny slit. When I had his three inches reaching in vain for my throat, my tongue worked along his shaft, teasing out more delightful moans.
He ran his fingers through my short hair and grabbed onto a handful as he thrust his hips against my mouth. “Jeez, Erin. This is in-, incredible.”
I pulled up, leaving his wet, glistening protrusion bouncing between us. I felt something overwhelming me. I wanted Bryan more right then than I’d wanted him before. And I’d wanted him plenty badly before. Maybe it was stupid of me, but leaned forward and kissed him again, and then put my mouth by his ear. My body trembled with yearning as I whispered, “I love you, Bryan Clark.”
His eyes were round, stunned at my admission. The expression softened into a grin as he grabbed the hem of my blouse and pulled up on it. I helped him pull it off, revealing the slinky material of my training bra. Aside from the visit to the clothing store where we bought it, this was the first time Bryan had seen me in it.
His fingers brushed against the white fabric. It was thick but not padded. Enough to hide my budding nipples when worn under most of my shirts. I could feel his touch and a jolt of pleasure spread from the nipple through the rest of my body. I reached behind me and fumbled with the clasp until I undid it and let my bra slide down my arms.
Bryan drank in my buds with his eager eyes. My nipples were still small, maybe a bit larger than his boyish ones. My areolas were also larger, but not by much. It was the swelling just under my buds that made me need to start wearing a bra. Those gentle swells under my tits weren’t much, but the difference compared to six months before was one Bryan couldn’t help but notice as he stared at me.
I wore a pair of slacks, black as opposed to Bryan’s khaki ones. When his fingers drifted from my tits to my waist, I knew what he wanted. I stood long enough to strip the rest of the way. For the briefest of moments, I looked around at our little make-believe kingdom that was bounded on one side by the river and the other side by the gravel road. All I could see were the tops of more trees. Then I looked back at the boy who had captured my heart. He stared at my puffy slit between my legs. There was some small part of me that wondered when I’d start getting hair down there. After all, I was closer to fourteen than thirteen now. But the look on Bryan’s face pushed the thought aside. We were as like a pair as could be, and I wanted nothing to get in the way. Not yet.
I straddled him, sitting on his upper chest, facing away from him. And I leaned back over and took him in my mouth again. As I leaned over, I pushed my ass up and toward his face. It wasn’t that he had never eaten me out. Far from it. But we had always taken turns. I’d give him a blow job, sometimes he would return the favor and eat me out. Sometimes, I wanted more, and I’d take him and fuck him like I was riding a bucking bronco. This was different.
As my lips slid over his cock, taking all of him in, Bryan tentatively put his hands on my hips and pushed his face between my legs. I felt his hot breath on my pussy an instant before his tongue slid between my lips and found my vagina.
I was wet and soon his lips were drenched in my juices, but I never wavered in the attention I lavished on his little pole. Even as he sent tendrils of ecstasy through me, I polished his nob and pole with every bit of skill I possessed. A couple of minutes later, his tongue stopped moving and Bryan moaned against the back side of my slit, “Fuck, I’m gonna…”
I knew what to expect. Had felt it dozens of times before. But it never gets old. I wanted to feel his dick thicken at that moment of heavenly bliss and spasm inside my mouth, kicking and jerking about as he dry cums.
I pushed down, clamping my lips around his rod, and sucked and worked my tongue, waiting for that moment. He grunted. His dick grew even harder. He spasmed in my mouth and something hot and sweetly tart hit my tongue as he let out a surprised yelp.
If I hadn’t been so horny, if I hadn’t needed him so much, I would have pulled back in that moment. Instead, I swallowed that droplet of his nascent seed. In the back of my mind, I thought about what Cheryl had said about her experience with her fourteen-year-old boyfriend, take that, you bitch! Bryan was nothing like that other boy. It was but a drop, but it was a sweetness I wanted to experience over and over.
Finally, he pushed me off. His penis still twitched as he said, “Holy shit! It’s sensitive as hell. Did I just, um, cum for real?”
I rolled off and turned around and kissed him, sharing a taste of his little treat with him, “You sure did.”
He blushed, “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know that was gonna happen.”
I put my hand on his chest and pushed him back against the sleeping bag, “Don’t be. I liked it.”
The worry disappeared from his face. He smiled as the implications of what he’d just done finally dawned on him, “Erin, I actually came. Before, I thought it felt good. But that time, what you did, it was unbelievable.”
I nestled against him, propped up with one elbow, the other arm draped across his narrow chest, “And I got to be here and experience it with you. That was fucking hot, Bry.”
I almost told him I could hardly wait for him to cum inside me. Sure, he had dry cummed inside me lots, but the next time would be the real deal. He must have been thinking along the same lines.
“Does this mean we can’t have sex anymore?”
I knew little about when a boy becomes able to get a girl pregnant. But I hadn’t experienced a period yet and figured it wasn’t something I had to worry about until then. “No way, Bry. You’re my boyfriend. We’re gonna keep doing it.”
“But what if I get you pregnant? What would happen then?”
I explained about my period, about being too young to get pregnant. I also told him about birth control pills.
The aftermath of his first wet orgasm soon hit, and Bryan yawned and closed his eyes. I slid my leg along his and cuddled against him, joining him in a late afternoon nap.
When I woke, the sun was heading toward the western horizon. Erin’s head was on my shoulder. A bit of drool ran down my side. Her leg draped over my leg and her slit was against my hip. Despite a slight chill to the air, as the sun’s mild intensity dissipated, I smiled. At first, I had freaked out when I came in her mouth. But I should have known better. Like always, Erin set my mind at ease.
With Mom and Jimmy Todd nowhere to be found, Granny didn’t seem to miss me much when I was gone. She had just nodded from her La-Z-Boy when I told her that morning I was spending the night over at Erin’s. Well, Eric’s. Spending the night with each other during the school year was harder than we had anticipated, even with an apathetic and drunk mom on Erin’s side, and a disinterested granny on mine. That’s why I really looked forward to that four-day weekend.
Thanks to a summer largely spent shirtless and sometimes even naked, our tans hadn’t faded so much that by November we were still brown enough that the weak autumn sun hadn’t burned us. But now that it was retreating, I wanted more warmth. I untangled myself from Erin and slipped down the ladder and grabbed the second sleeping bag. Back on the roof, I spread the second bag over Erin and then slid in between the two bags.
“Mmm, that’s nice,” she murmured, “I wondered where you disappeared to. Thought I’d have to get up and go find you.”
Once I was under the cover of the sleeping bag, Erin snuggled against me again. The way her hand snaked across my chest sent a shiver through my body and made my little noodle stiff. She lay on her side, her budding boob pressed against my side. Her leg slid over mine and my stiffy twitched when I felt the heat of her smooth sex against my hip again.
The sun fades fast during late fall and soon reds and oranges replace the yellow sun. It dropped a few more degrees, but snuggled between our sleeping bags, with Erin pressed against me, I was warm. As the stars blinked into existence, her hand slid down my stomach and found my stiffy, “Hmm, hot and horny?”
I giggled and rolled onto my side, facing her. Her lips were close to mine. Her kiss sent a thrill through me. She wiggled her hips, making me hyperaware of our bodies. Her puffy nipples pushed against my chest. Our stomachs, still satisfied with our Thanksgiving dinner, touched. My stiffy lay flat between our bodies, and our legs touched. I rested my free hand behind her head, “Uh huh. Your body feels awesome.”
She reached between us and gently wrapped her fingers around me before pushing my stiffy between her legs. It was like an inverted hotdog. Her puffy lips were the bun and my stiffy the wiener. She rocked her hips back and forth, sending jolts of pleasure through me as she coated me with her slick juices. Before I could figure out what I should do next, she rolled on top of me and kissed me before putting her knees on both sides of my hips.
With a skill born of practice, she used her fingers to guide my stiffy to her opening and slid onto me with a moan of pleasure. I had discovered on my own that I could certainly jack myself raw if I tried too many times on my own. But since being with Erin, I had yet to experience too much sex. The feeling of her pushing up, drawing my stiffy along her tight and slick walls was pure bliss. It was only equaled when she lowered herself onto me, burying all of my stiffy inside her.
She moaned as she pulled up, “Fuck a duck, Bry, dunno why, but it feels even better than usual. Gotta be the anticipation of you squirting in me.”
Just talking about that made the familiar tingle in the base of my stiffy come to life. With each thrust up and down, it grew like a burning ember, warming and thrilling me. When Erin gave a guttural moan, her body shook. Her pussy undulated around my stiffy, and that was it for me. My balls constricted and my stiffy swelled and the most intense pleasure filled my body as I felt that little drop of cum speed through my urethra and shoot deep inside Erin. It may have only been a single drop, but to me, I felt like a man as she moaned as her orgasm continued.
I was spent by the time she stopped moving and collapsed onto me. She found her voice first, “I felt you, Bry. I felt something warm fill me when you came. It made me cum again and again.”
I smiled at her, “You felt even better than normal too.”
She slid from me after a bit and we cuddled under the warmth of the sleeping bag. We were far enough out of town and Zavalla was a small enough town that the sky was awash in stars. It was something to behold.
Erin’s hand, slick with sweat, found my chest again. “Your heart’s racing, Bry. And here I thought I was doing all the work.”
I rested my hands on top of hers, “If you want, I can climb on top.”
She leaned in and kissed me, “Maybe later, my lovely stud. For now, I just want to enjoy the moment.”
That wonderful silence filled the night air. Eventually Erin said, “I wanted today to be special. It’s our first real holiday together. I was so worried Mom was going to fuck it up, but even after she got drunk, we still managed to have a great evening.”
I shifted, trying to be even closer to her, although our bodies were already touching. “And it’s not over yet, Erin. And we’ve got three more days after that to have fun this weekend.”
Her fingers found my penis. So soon after the most incredible orgasm, I was soft. She played with it until I was hard again, “That’s true. Christmas is just around the corner. We gotta figure it out, but I want you to spend Christmas eve with us because I want to see you bright and early Christmas morning.”
Where she found the energy I don’t know, but not even ten minutes after finishing me off, she slid back onto my waist. This time, we made love slowly. I came again a bit later. We fell asleep that night on the roof of her treehouse after making love four times that night.
Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved