September 22, 2025

In Plain Sight – Part 5
by
Caliboy1991

Sweat dripped from his nose onto his shirt as Asher pushed his mountain bike through the front door. The cool air felt like walking into an icehouse after the near one-hundred-degree heat outside. He left the door open as Tate pushed her bike into the apartment, too. Some of the residents of the apartment complex weren’t much on private property rights. You locked your car at night, and you didn’t leave valuables, like a bicycle outside.

Once Tate leaned her bike against his, Asher headed toward his bedroom, where he stripped off his soaking wet shirt and tossed it in a pile of clothes. It was the closest thing he had to a hamper. The chilled air felt wonderful on his bare skin.

“Ahem,” a small voice from behind said, “I don’t know why you insisted on Subway sandwiches. You’ve got plenty of food here.”

Asher turned and took the offered sandwich bag as Tate’s eyes roamed over his room. It wasn’t much, but this was the first time she’d seen his bedroom. She went around him and looked at the small collection of books he finally had unpacked and put on the bookshelf. “Oh, cool, you read fantasy books?”

He wasn’t a big reader, but in the government facility, sometimes it was read a book or stare at the drably painted walls. He had discovered Piers Anthony in the facility’s library, and now, most of his books were from that author or others like him.

“Some. You want to watch TV while we eat?”

Tate grabbed a book and came over and sat on the edge of his bed as she read the back cover. “Can we eat in here?”

Asher didn’t mind the girl seeing his bedroom. Aside from the pile of clothes, it was clean enough. He dropped the bag of food on the bed and returned a moment later with a couple of water bottles. Tate had scooted further onto the bed as she fanned herself with her sweaty T-shirt, the book momentarily forgotten.

Asher handed her one of the bottles of water. He felt bad seeing Tate sweltering in her T-shirt, wet hair pasted to her forehead. He grabbed a paper napkin from the Subway bag and leaned forward, and dabbed at her forehead, “Get comfortable if you want. I did.”

He smiled goofily, flexing his muscles in front of his bare chest. It was ridiculous, he knew. But it had the desired effect as Tate laughed. Then she pulled at the hem of her shirt, before letting it fall on the carpeted floor.

As they tore into their subs, Asher enjoyed watching Tate’s chest. Smaller even than his own nipples, she looked so much like Peter that it made him twinge in the tight confines of his shorts. Of course, she was looking at him, as well.

After one bite, she said, “What’cha looking at?”

He felt comfortable enough with her to answer at least partially truthful, “You’re really pretty.”

Tate’s eyes fell to the bedspread as she blushed. “You don’t really think that, do you? The girls at college are going to be very pretty with their big boobs,” her voice fell to barely a whisper, “or is it because I look like a boy?”

Asher nearly choked on his sub. Even he didn’t know what drew him to her. Had he said or done something to telegraph what he liked?

In a voice equally low, he said, “I really do like you, Tate. A lot. Is it possible that you’re the cutest looking boy in the world? Or maybe because I like you just because you’re you. What matters is that I’m your friend. Right?

Tate’s eyes seemed to pierce his as she eventually nodded.

He said, “As your friend, I want you to know I think you’re pretty. I don’t care about college girls,… or other boys.”

“Thanks,” Tate said as her eyes returned to a spot on the bed, not daring to look him in the eye after that intense gaze.

After a long silence, Asher said, “What’re you thinking?”

He could barely see her lips curling into a smile as Tate continued looking down. “Mm, nothing.”

Asher took the last bite of his sandwich, and when he finished, he said, “Come on, I really opened up to you.”

Finally, Tate’s eyes moved upward. He could feel her gaze as her eyes slowly climbed from his legs, to his crotch, then to his chest, and finally to his eyes. “You’ll think I’m a silly little girl.”

The eighteen-year-old reached across the space between them and gently took hold of her chin, “No, you’re my friend, and I’d never think of you like that, Tate.”

Clearly flustered, the girl stammered, “It’s just…I know you’re… But you’re so…”

Her voice kept trailing off, seemingly unable to finish her thought. Asher took one of her hands, “It’s okay, whatever it is, I’m not going to be upset or think less of you.”

Tate took a long drink from the water bottle, then she said, “I know that you’re eighteen. Heck, you showed me your driver’s license. But I can’t think of you like that. You know… grown up. You look like you’re twelve or thirteen, and that’s how I think of you. I told you, it’s silly.”

Asher hadn’t expected that answer. In a way, it was cute. But it was also messed up. He was drawn to her because she looked like a young boy. And she was drawn to him because he looked like a young teenage boy. He said, “No, it’s not silly, Tate. I think it’s cute.”

Tate finally smiled, “Thanks. Are you sure you don’t mind?

“Mind what?”

“Looking twelve. No hair and stuff,” Tate admitted.

It was Asher’s turn to turn red as he mumbled, “I do have some hair, you know.”

Tate’s eyes zeroed onto his crotch for a moment before her eyes found his, “I just thought… your arms and chest…”

Her voice trailed away as Asher realized the talk about his pubic hair made his penis poke against his shorts again. With her eyes fixed on it, there was no way she missed seeing the bulge.

Long minutes passed before he found his voice, “What do you want to do? Go swimming?”

Her eyes flickered toward his face before returning to the bulge. She stammered, “Um, c-can I s-see it?”

Hearing those words from her mouth made Asher even harder if that was possible. Nobody had seen him down there since Peter. He’d eventually grown comfortable enough with the twelve-year-old to let him see how he’d been mutilated at the hands of the Syndicate. One of the effects of having his testes removed when he was ten was that the scrotal tissue never grew. It was just a small flap of skin below the base of his penis. But few things showed you were a man more than heavy balls swinging low below a massive erection. That was one of the things that he liked about Peter. The boy hadn’t cared. He was just as happy to go down on Asher’s erection as Asher had been to go down on his.

Still, Asher couldn’t deny the way Tate made him feel. With more trepidation than he’d felt since his rescue from the Syndicate, he rolled off the bed and faced the girl as his fingers unfastened his shorts. He let his shorts fall to the floor while leaving his boxers in place. Tate moved over, hanging her feet off the side of the bed, her face within an arm’s length of him.

His voice shook, “A-are you sure?”

Tate turned her face upwards and nodded.

With that nod as his permission, Asher gripped the elastic band and pulled down. A couple of inches and a few of his errant dark brown strands appeared. Another inch and his base was visible to the girl’s eyes. A few more inches and his erection popped free from the confines of his boxers.

“Wow,” Tate exclaimed.

With nothing to hide anymore, Asher let the boxers fall to the floor as the girl looked on.

“It’s really big,” she eventually said.

There were few things she could have said that would have made Asher feel really good. And that was one of them. Sure, he knew he was small, well below average as just five inches. Still, Tate didn’t seem to care.

Then it hit him. He’d just exposed himself to a nine-year-old girl. Not ten, no matter how close her birthday might be. Nine. Perhaps he was golden, and there was very little he couldn’t get away with given how much the government needed his testimony. But he really didn’t want to test that. His face flushed, he crossed the small hallway to the bathroom and found the shorts he’d swam in the previous day. They were up, over his hips before he returned to his bedroom.

Tate almost looked dazed, “Yours is a lot nicer than Dwayne’s.”

So that’s who the second penis had belonged to. No matter how weirded out he felt, Asher would never let that happen again. “Thanks. You left your swimming stuff over here yesterday.”

Tate nodded as she climbed to her feet. She pursed her lips, and then she gave a tiny nod before she pulled her shorts down. When she stepped out of them, Asher’s eyes came back to the plain cotton panties she wore. It was a bit of a letdown. He’d expected her to wear a pair of boy’s tighty whities, although why she would made no sense.

Then she pulled her panties down. What had been hinted at the previous day, hidden behind the yellow material of her swimsuit, was on full display now. The tip of her slit was visible beneath her puffy smooth mons pubis.

She gazed at Asher, uncertainty in her eyes. There are few things more nerve-wracking than letting someone you like see you naked for the first time. Yet she managed a grin before she pulled on the swimming shorts from the previous day.

An uncertainty to her smile only increased the allure Tate held in Asher’s mind as he said, “Are you ready to teach me how to swim?”

The girl nodded, “Yeah. Let me get the sunscreen.”

She was back in a flash with the tube. While the hesitancy remained, there was also something else in the girl’s eyes, “Can I put it on you?”

Asher’s erection had never gone away, and as he nodded, he felt it stir inside his shorts. He faced away from the girl as he heard a farting noise from the tube as Tate put some goop on her hands. Reflexively, he shuddered at the cold touch, but the girl’s hands moved fast, spreading the sunblock all over his back. When Tate’s fingers touched his shorts, he turned around and let her apply the stuff to his chest. Her hands moved slowly, almost like she enjoyed the touch of her hands against his chest.

When the girl’s fingers brushed against the elastic band, Asher, still erect as ever, gently pulled on his shorts, lowering them a couple of inches. Tate giggled as her fingers rubbed the lotion on his newly exposed skin. Her fingers stopped when the first few strands of hair appeared.

“Sorry,” Asher said, leaving his shorts pulled down a few inches.

Tate exhaled slowly, “I’ve never touched a boy this low on the belly before.”

After a long moment, her fingers, still covered with sunscreen lotion, caressed the exposed silky hairs. “Your hairs feel weird, Ash.”

“Bad weird?”

Tate shrugged, “No, just different.”

Despite Tate’s initial reaction to his pubes, Asher slid his shorts down another inch, exposing more hair as well as the contour of the base of his shaft. The rest of his penis was pushed down, nearly laying even with his legs to keep his shorts from tenting.

The youth’s skin tingled from the girl’s hesitant touch as her fingers threaded through his short silky hairs. He flinched when the tip of her finger grazed the base of his penis. The jolt must have been too much for Tate, as her hands retreated. Her voice was breathless, “Your turn, Ash.”

Pulling his shorts back to his hips, he took the tube and was soon slathering the girl’s back with the lotion. When Asher reached the hem of her shorts, Tate turned around. Even though it was only the second time, Asher’s fingers felt a familiarity with the boyish body. Perhaps he spent more time than needed smearing the lotion over Tate’s tiny nipple. She didn’t complain. If anything, she leaned into his hands.

When he reached the hem of the girl’s shorts, Asher glanced into Tate’s eyes, “Are we done?”

The girl’s hands shook when she grabbed her shorts and pulled on them a bit, exposing another inch of skin. Asher worried part of Tate’s appeal was her boyish figure, notwithstanding seeing all of her a few minutes earlier. How would his body react to her… how did she call it? Her puss.

Asher’s fingers went lower with each tug of Tate’s shorts, until she’d exposed four inches of her skin. Most of her pubic area was exposed, and his fingers touching her in such a delicate and private place felt electrical. Then, when his fingers brushed the waistband again, Tate pulled a bit more, and Asher gasped when the edge of her slit came into view.

He needn’t have worried that she wasn’t boyish enough. Asher’s penis strained against his shorts as he drank in the puffiness surrounding the tip of Tate’s slit. Although neither looked at the other’s face, both pulled back as the girl pulled her shorts up.

As Tate headed over to his bedroom door, her chest rose and fell as though she were out of breath. “I didn’t know putting on sunblock could be, um, so fun.”

Asher chuckled, wiping the remaining sunscreen onto his torso as he followed the girl.

They were halfway across the parking lot between Asher’s place and the pool when Tate froze up. It took a moment, but then the youth saw what caught her attention. Ron and Dwayne were riding their skateboards on the asphalt surface. Even Asher groaned when he saw the two bullies veer toward them.

He felt naked in just his shorts and sandals when the boys drew near. They’d obviously seen Tate based on Fatso’s leering eyes. When the boys stopped a few steps away, there was, Asher thought, a glimmer of fear in Fatso’s eyes.

Acne Face sneered, “Coming out to give Dwayne and me a show, flashing your little titties around, Tatum O’Twat-face?”

Asher wasn’t a particularly great fighter. The boys under the thumb of the Syndicate were beaten into submission if they showed too much of a spark. Still, not being a particularly great fighter didn’t mean Asher was bad, either. He stepped between the girl and her tormenter, “Why don’t you go steal your sister’s Clearasil and work on your pimples, asshole.”

Acne Face hadn’t forgotten the kick between his legs either as fear crept into his eyes. Asher took a step forward and was rewarded with both young teenagers stepping back.

When he managed to find his voice, he said, “I wonder what Tatum O’Twat-face’s mom would say if she knew she was running around topless with some teenager.”

Asher felt a jolt of adrenaline shoot through him as he closed the gap. Grabbing a fistful of the boy’s shirt, he growled, “I will dig a grave and bury you in it if you say anything more than ‘have a nice day’ to Tate.”

He let the smaller boy go. Then he reached out and grabbed the heavier boy, Dwayne. “The same goes for you. And if you go around flashing your dick at her, I’ll cut it off and shove it down your throat.”

When Asher let Dwayne go, both boys backpedaled until they could turn, jump on their skateboards and get away.

Asher’s heart was pounding in his chest when he felt a smaller hand slide into his. Glancing down, he saw Tate looking up at him with something approaching hero worship. “I hope I never see either of them ever again.”

Shaking his head as he let the girl pull him toward the swimming pool, he said, “If they fuck with you, Tate, tell me. If that doesn’t put some fear in them, then I will kick their asses.”

By the time they slipped off their sandals and got into the shallow water, Asher had pushed the run-in out of his mind. He really wanted to learn how to swim.

They stayed and practiced the freestyle stroke, with Asher standing in the shallow end, practicing the stroke with his body bent over, face in the water. A sense of elation surged through him when he managed to combine the kicking he learned the day before with the freestyle stroke when the same woman from the day before came into the pool area with her toddlers in tow.

Asher waited until Tate climbed a ladder and got out before he pushed himself off from the opposite side of the pool, kicking his legs and using precise freestyle strokes to reach the ladder. With his hands on the stainless-steel ladder, he said, “How’d I do?”

With eyes shining, Tate practically danced in place, “That was really good. Next time we come swimming, you’ll be able to swim just about anywhere in the pool.”

Walking back to his apartment, Asher kept his eyes open. He trusted Acne Face and Fatso about as far as he could throw the heavier one. He must have scared them off. For now. When he opened the door, he let Tate go first and then made sure to throw the deadbolt home when he closed the door.

Feeling safe, he said, “Does your mom come home on Fridays?”

Tate shrugged as she found a towel and spread it across the couch, “Sometimes. If she does, it’s just to freshen up for her date with her boss.”

Asher realized how much he loved hanging around with the girl. They’d already spent several hours riding their bikes, eating, and swimming. And he could hardly wait to spend the rest of the day with her. “What time does she usually get home after her date?”

Tate shrugged, “Hard to say. Sometimes she doesn’t show up until Saturday afternoon. Other times, she’s home by one or two.”

Tate flipped through different shows on Netflix as Asher stepped over her legs and settled in beside her. Before the girl could nestle her head against his arm, he slid his arm around her shoulder. For reasons he didn’t understand, each day with Tate was a little better than the one before.

Once she settled for one of the Monsters, Inc. movies, Tate snuggled up even closer to him, wrapping an arm around his belly as Sullivan and Mike went through their antics on the flat-screen. As the movie progressed, Asher felt the girl relax, almost melting against him. Even her hand, once on his chest slid down, until it rested on his lower belly, just above his shorts. A glance down showed the girl’s focus was on the movie. Maybe with each passing moment, she grew more comfortable with their friendship, too.

When the movie was over, Tate’s fingers found his short’s waistband. It was just a short distance of a couple of inches to stretched material at his crotch. No sooner had the girl’s fingers touched the taut fabric than her fingers retreated. “Um, Ash?”

The youth stared down at his crotch. Straining against the fabric for as long as it had, his erection hurt. Part of him wanted nothing more than to pull his five inches out, relieve the pressure, and then jack off until the tension inside was gone. “Um-hmm?”

“Is your wiener hard?”

“Yeah.”

Tate’s fingers brushed the material again, sending tingling sensations radiating out from her touch. “Why’s it get hard?”

There was an innocent curiosity to Tate’s question, and it reminded Asher the girl his arm was hugging was only nine…almost ten. The only sex education she’d gotten was what she’d seen around the apartment complex.

He was entirely unsuited to answer her questions. His own introduction to sex had been painful and violent. By the time he was Tate’s age, Asher had already been turned into one of the Syndicate’s fuck-toys. What he felt for Tate compelled him to answer. “It gets hard a lot when a boy goes through puberty. What do you know about puberty?”

Resting her hand on his bare skin above his shorts, Tate said, “That’s when I’ll get boobs and hair on my, um, puss.”

Asher nodded as his right arm stroked the girl’s shoulder, “Something similar happens to boys. We get hair down there, too. Instead of boobs, though, our, um, wieners get hard a lot.”

“So that’s why Dwayne’s wiener was sticking out in front of him,” Tate said.

Feeling anger welling from within, Asher felt a need to protect the girl from Ron and Dwayne. “That day he showed it to you, did he make you touch him?”

Tate’s hand moved in a small circle on his belly, “No. That would have been gross. When he pulled his shorts down, and his wiener stuck out, there was a lot of hair. He tried to get me to touch it, but I stepped on Ron’s foot, and he let me go, and I ran over to Mrs. Jenkins.”

Asher picked up the remote control and started cycling through shows on Netflix as the girl’s hand continued to rub his belly. After a long moment, she said, “It can’t be fun having your wiener getting hard all the time.”

The teenager couldn’t help but laugh. His greatest pleasure came from his orgasms. Getting hard certainly led to some fun times. Then he remembered the incessant erections he had shortly after they started giving him testosterone shots. The number of times he’d gotten a boner in one of the classrooms were too many to count. Still, when he’d returned to his room, taking care of his growing erection had been fun.

The girl was looking up at him with a curious expression. Asher said, “Oh, I don’t know. It can be fun.”

“How’s that?”

Asher liked Tate and knew that even though she wasn’t a boy, he still wanted to share part of himself, just like he had with Peter. Even so, he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of jacking off in front of her. Not yet. He thought about one of the girls who had been in his English class the last year he had been in the facility. One of the reasons he didn’t like her much was because she had no filter. That’s how he learned that some girls masturbated almost as much as boys did.

Thinking back on that revelation, Asher said, “Have you ever played with your, uh, puss?”

Tate’s face turned scarlet as she gave a tiny nod. Asher continued, “Well, boys do something similar to make themselves feel good.”

Tate’s eyes grew round, “Oh. Does it feel as good as when I…”

Her words faded away as she realized she had just admitted to playing with herself. To Asher, there was nothing more adorable than the look on her face. He had no idea what a girl felt when she masturbated. Still, he nodded, “Yeah. I imagine so. Any other questions?”

With cheeks still flushed red, Tate shook her head as Asher found another show and hit the play button. By the time it ended, the time was after five-thirty. The girl untangled herself from Asher, “I better be home just in case Mom swings by before her date.”

Asher gestured toward her chest, “You going out there like that?”

Tate giggled as she ran into the teenager’s bedroom and returned with her T-shirt in hand. She put her other hand on her hip and smirked, “I think you like me like this, Ash.”

Asher couldn’t repress a smile, “Yeah. I think you like it too, Tate.”

Scarlet seemed like the permanent shade of her cheeks as the girl slipped the T-shirt over her head. Asher laughed when he saw what was written across the front: I don’t suffer from insanity; I enjoy every minute of it.

After the girl left, Asher headed toward the shower. He could smell the chlorine on his body. In the bathroom, he stared at his reflection. Even though he’d gained four inches in height since he’d started taking the testosterone treatments, his face and chest were still boyish. His shoulders were barely wider than his hips, and there was only a hint of muscle tone. He could see how Tate mistook him for a younger boy.

When he pulled his shorts off, he ran his fingers through the sparse hair at the base of his penis. He’d been delighted that first time, lying in bed in the government facility, when he felt the first strand of hair. He’d been almost seventeen and had been taking hormone treatments for most of a year by then. Every new hair was a sign of maturation. Of leaving boyhood behind. It was proving to be a long process. By now, he had expected to see hair under his arms and along his legs. Perhaps even more above his penis.

What he hadn’t expected when he left the government facility and found himself at the tender mercies of the US Marshals Service, was to meet Tate. Despite her boyish physique, she was a girl. What Asher felt for her was every bit as real as what he’d once felt for Peter. Moreover, she had similar feelings for him. And even though she tried to show that she liked Asher just the way he was, he could tell that she was bothered by his pubic hair, sparse though it was. That had become clear when she’d told him about how Dwayne exposed his hairy dick.

Holding her, like he had, Asher had felt her physical revulsion when Tate recounted the run-in with the bullies.

Heaving a heavy sigh, there was only one thing Asher wanted more than to run his fingers through his pubic hair, and that was to please the girl who was capturing his heart. Opening the drawer under the sink, Asher found the grooming kit he’d gotten for last Christmas. Why adults insisted on giving stuff like that as presents was beyond his understanding. Still, he opened the kit and pulled out some tweezers.

Retreating to the toilet, he sat down and bent over and used the tweezers to pluck one of his pubes. It stung as he extracted it. Holding it up, there was a short waxy bit shaped like a tiny bulb that had been below the surface in addition to the inch of exposed hair.

“Shit, that stings,” Asher muttered as he flicked the strand into the toilet. He wanted Tate to feel more comfortable with his body, and if getting rid of his sparse patch would make her feel better, then he’d endure a bit of pain for her.

A few minutes later and he’d plucked a couple of dozen hairs. Given how little hair he had, the amount removed made a big difference. Running his hand over the tweezed area, it felt smooth, even though the skin was a bit redder than normal. After a few more hairs, for the first time, Asher was glad he didn’t have a lot of pubic hair. If he had been blessed with more hair on his body, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to continue. As it was, removing a hundred silky strands of hair was going to be painful enough. Five hundred? A thousand? God, no.

By the time he was down to a few stray strands, Asher’s hands were shaking, making it harder to grip the hair with the tweezers. Why the hell would anyone do this?

Then he thought of Tate and knew why he put up with the pain. A few more plucks, and he ran his fingers over his pubic area. Despite the tender redness, the area was smooth. As smooth as it had been before the testosterone treatments.

When he realized how long it had taken to pluck the hundred or so follicles, Asher hurried into the shower. He wasn’t sure how long until Tate returned, but he wanted to be clean and dressed. The stinging of the hot water gave way to a soothing feeling on his pubic area, and by the time Asher finished, the redness had mostly faded.

He was drying off when he heard a knock at the door. Swearing under his breath, Asher wrapped the towel around his waist and hurried to the door. A quick look through the peephole showed Tate standing outside. She had her little backpack hanging off one shoulder as she shifted from one foot to the other.

Feeling exposed in just a towel, Asher swung the door open. Tate’s eyes grew round, and her hand flew to her mouth as she suppressed a giggle. Torn between arousal and embarrassment, the eighteen-year-old waved the girl inside.

“I just finished showering when you knocked. I wanted to get rid of the chlorine.”

Tate’s eyes ran down his body as she stepped inside. “I wish I’d thought of that. My hair smells of it, too.”

She set her little backpack on the small dining table next to the kitchen. “Mom came home at six, but she didn’t stay long. She packed an overnight bag. I think she’s spending the night with her boss. Told me to call Mrs. Jenkins if I needed anything.”

Still holding the ends of the towel together, Asher smiled at the news. “Cool. No curfew tonight.”

Tate came back over to him, smiling, “What’s a curfew?”

Asher felt her eyes on him as he tried to ignore the stirring between his legs. “A curfew means you need to get home before a certain time. Kind of like Cinderella at the ball.”

Before Asher could so much as respond, Tate closed in and put her arms around his neck. Craning her neck up, she leaned forward until her lips touched his. Surprised by the sudden kiss, Asher’s lips didn’t respond before the girl’s lips pulled back. Furiously blushing, the girl said, “Does that make you my Prince Charming?”

Asher found himself blushing at the awkward kiss. “Do you want me to be?”

Tate nodded as she leaned forward again. When her lips touched his, this time Asher responded, kissing her back. He’d never kissed a girl before, and it was evident the girl had only the vaguest idea of what to do. When the second kiss ended, Tate was breathless as she said, “Yeah. Be my Prince Charming, Ash.”

Untangling himself from his little Cinderella, Ash, also breathing fast, said, “What do you want on your pizza?”

Tate went around him and sat on the couch. “Sausage, please.”

Asher wasn’t sure, but he thought she’d been looking at the lump his penis made in the towel when she’d mentioned sausage. But as he stared at her, she gave off the sweet innocent vibe that drew him to her so powerfully. It must have been a coincidence.

After Asher placed the order, Tate said, “Can I take a bath over here? I’d like to wash off the chlorine, too.”

He showed the girl the bathtub, found another towel, and started running the water for her. “If you want to run the shower, that knob in the middle will turn it on.”

When he left Tate to her bath, Asher headed into his bedroom, where he slid on a pair of boxers before tossing the towel on top of the growing pile of dirty laundry. After that, he cued up episode three of Stranger Things and waited for the pizza delivery guy.

Continued in Part 6

Copyright 2020 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

In Plain Sight – Part 4
by
Caliboy1991

There was something magical as the wind tore through Asher’s hair when both wheels of the mountain bike went airborne. He’d just crested a small rise when the trail plunged down a steep hill. The absorbers on the bike’s forks took most of the shock when the back wheel slammed into the path, followed a heartbeat later by the front. When Asher finally managed to stop, he craned his neck around and saw Tate sitting on her bike, shaking her head.

“Dude, that was sick!”

The teenager waved, “Come on, it’s easy!”

Tate edged her bike down the hill, riding her brakes until she coasted to a stop next to him. “Easy? That was crazy.”

Asher’s heart still thundered in his chest, “But fun. I’ll have to remember this trail.”

A pensiveness crossed Tate’s features, “Um, it’s after five, Ash. I need to get on home before Mom.”

With that, Asher let the girl lead out, and he followed behind, simply enjoying the pull of his muscles as he pedaled after her. A summer’s worth of unstructured living had never seemed more fun now that he had a bike.

They came off the trails behind the playground. There were a couple of smaller kids playing on the wooden platform under the watchful gaze of a young woman. She gave both bikes a glare as Asher and Tate rode close to the playground equipment. They crossed onto one of the parking lots and turned a corner. Tate slammed on her brake. Asher stopped, too. A car had just pulled up next to the building, and a woman wearing a business suit stepped out of an older model BMW.

“Ah, shit, she beat me home,” Tate muttered as she started pedaling slowly toward the same apartment building.

Asher couldn’t stand the thought of the girl facing her mom alone. He caught up with her and flashed a bright smile her way. “It’ll be okay.”

When they reached the building, the woman glared at the girl, “You’ve got one fucking job, Tatum. To be home when I get home.”

Hanging her head, Tatum muttered, “Sorry, Mom.”

The luxury car, expensive clothes, even the woman’s sophisticated hairdo, all of it reeked of money. But Tate wore old clothes, used a borrowed bike, and ate cheap food. The girl’s life was pure second-hand hand-me-downs. While Asher didn’t know women like Tate’s mom, he’d certainly been used and abused at the hands of men just like her.

The woman was drawing in another breath when Asher interjected, “Thanks Tatum for showing me around. Being the new kid on the block, I’m sure glad you helped me figure out where stuff’s at.”

He turned his attention to the girl’s mom, “You’ve got a real nice kid, ma’am. I hope she’s not in trouble for helping me find my way around this afternoon.”

Before, there was always the risk spouting off bullshit would get you a beating. The syndicate knew how to control its human capital. Thankfully, enough time had passed, and now Asher didn’t feel the trepidation that would have come when he was younger. A look of confusion passed over the woman’s face as she mumbled, “Um, oh. I see.”

Her demeanor shifted, “Yeah. Tatum knows she’s supposed to help other people. I taught her it’s important to be a good seminarian.”

Asher’s eyes grew wide at the woman’s malapropism, although she didn’t miss a beat, “Yeah. I’m doing the best I can as a single mom, but it’s hard to raise a kid on your own these days.”

Asher wanted to lash out and punch Tate’s mom. Her self-importance dripped off her lips with unfailing sincerity.

Feeling queasy at the undistilled narcissism, Asher said, “Yes, ma’am. I’d better get going. It’s getting late, and my parents expect me home shortly.”

His eyes flickered to Tate, who was trying not to laugh at him. Then, as he swung his bike around, he said, “See you tomorrow, Tate.”

He hadn’t gone far when he heard the girl’s mom say, “Why can’t you be like that kid. He knows when he is supposed to be home. Get your ass upstairs. I need to get cleaned up. I’m meeting Robert in a bit.”

***

Asher closed the fridge. He really needed to go to the grocery store, but he didn’t know what to buy. The facility he’d stayed in had helped him finish high school, and the US Marshals Service had made sure he knew how to drive, but nobody had bothered teaching him how to prepare a menu or buy groceries. One thing he knew how to do was order pizza.

A few minutes later, the call made, he collapsed on the couch and turned on the TV. The Internet came with the apartment and the smart TV connected to a Netflix account he’d just set up. Flipping through the various genres, Asher was startled by a knock at the door. He glanced at the clock on the phone.

Damn, that was quick. Less than thirty minutes had passed.

When he opened the door, instead of a delivery driver, Tate smiled up at him. “Hey, Ash. Mom headed out on her date. Whatcha doing?”

“Hi, Kiddo,” Asher said as he opened the door. “Um, do you think your mom will be pissed that you came over here?”

Coming inside, Tate shook her head, “She’ll be out late. As long as I’m home by ten, not only will she not care, she won’t even know.”

Asher eyed the girl, still dressed in the same sarcastic oversized T-shirt. Something tickled him in the back of his mind warning him away from letting her stay. Still though, her winsome smile drew him in, and he said, “What’d you have in mind?”

Tate blinked her eyes, a brief flicker of confusion, as though she’d expected him to turn her away. “Um, what were you planning on doing?”

Asher nodded toward his TV, “Was looking for something on Netflix. You have any suggestions?”

She practically bounced over to his couch, “Have you seen Stranger Things? One of my friends said it was sick.”

He’d heard a couple of the support staff at the government facility talk about the series. “Sounds good to me. We can watch that.”

Before he could reclaim his spot, there was another knock at the door. After paying for the pizza, Asher set the box on the battered coffee table, “You eat yet?”

Tate said, “I was going to eat later.”

Fetching a couple of plates, Asher said, “Later’s now. Help yourself.”

The girl grabbed a slice as he started the first episode of Stranger Things. Between the eighteen-year-old and the almost-ten-year-old, the pizza disappeared faster than Will Byers in the show. At the end of the first episode, Tate said, “Oh, wow. That was intense.”

“Do you want to watch the next one?” Ash said, hoping the girl would say yes. He was hooked and wanted to find out what the second episode held.

Tate slid off the couch, “Yeah. Can you wait to start it? I gotta go to the bathroom,”

Asher dipped his head toward the short hallway separating the bathroom from his bedroom, “It’s over there.”

After Tate came out after a few minutes, she climbed back onto the couch and leaned her head against his shoulder. Her closeness sent a flutter of butterflies into his stomach as Asher hit the play button.

While most of his attention was on the show, part of Asher was acutely aware that a little girl who dressed like she was a little boy was leaning against him. More than that, at least part of him enjoyed the feel of her head against his shoulder. What he couldn’t figure out is whether the feeling in his stomach came from how much Tate looked like a cute boy or whether it was something innate in the girl. Despite being sexually abused, Asher had enjoyed moments with some of the other boys who were also trapped in the Syndicate’s stable. It had been in those moments he realized that even an emasculated boy could still enjoy a good cum, no matter that it was dry.

Thinking about sex eventually made the youth realize his penis was pushing against his shorts. Glancing down at Tate, the girl’s eyes were fixed on the screen. And that drew his attention back there too. The show was so good; it held his attention until the end of the second episode.

Part of Asher wanted to let the next episode play, but it was already nine in the evening. He didn’t want Tate’s mom finding out she’d spent a couple of hours with him when she expected her daughter to be at home.

“Let’s stop here. We can watch the rest of the season over the next couple of days.”

Tate’s eyes looked up at him, almost like brown puppy dog eyes, “Aww, Ash, it’s really good. One more episode?”

Thinking about how mean Tate’s mom seemed to be, he shook his head, “Tomorrow. Okay?”

Tate heaved an exaggerated sigh, “Fine. What are you doing tomorrow?”

Asher couldn’t repress a grin the girl’s theatrical exhalation. “I need to go to the grocery store. I don’t have much in here to eat. You got any advice?”

“Mom does the grocery shopping, but I know how to fix everything she buys. Let me see what you’ve got.”

With that, Tate slipped off the couch and padded into the kitchen. Cabinet doors opened and closed, then the light from the fridge spilled out, adding to the glow cast by the TV screen onto the ceiling of the living room.

“You weren’t kidding,” she said, “there’s nothing here. No wonder you ate at McDonald’s at lunch and ordered pizza for dinner. What do you like to eat?”

Before Asher could respond, she added, “Except pizza. Like real food.”

Laughing, Asher turned off the TV and joined her in the kitchen, “I thought pizza was real food.”

Tate shook her head and gave him a withering stare. “Only if you wanna be fat. Do you like spaghetti? What about stew? Sandwiches?”

Over the next few minutes, Tate wrote down a grocery list and slid it over to Asher, “You get this stuff, and at least you won’t starve, or worse, turn into a blimp.”

“Thanks.”

Tate shrugged, “Not like I have a choice. If you starve or become fat diabetic, then there’s nobody else to play with.

Her tone was so flat that Asher nearly missed the twinkle in her eye. In a voice equally dry, he said, “Can’t have that. What about after I get back maybe we can hang out. Maybe do something you like.”

Tate’s face brightened, “Sure, that sounds cool. Can I come over after lunch?”

Asher didn’t know what came over him, but he reached out and tousled the girl’s short hair, “Sure.”

The girl’s face had already been lit up. But it positively beamed at his hand on her head. Tate said, “Cool. I guess I better get home before Mom catches me out.”

She was halfway to the door when she stopped and spun around. She crossed back over to Asher and wrapped her arms around his waist, “I’m so glad you moved in here, and I’m really glad we met.”

Before Asher knew what to say, the girl turned and practically flew out the door into the night.

***

His stomach rumbling, Asher put the last of the groceries in the pantry. Then, almost as an afterthought, he retrieved a loaf of bread. He had all the fixings on the kitchen countertop for a sandwich when the doorbell rang.

With little doubt in his mind about who it could be, he called out, “The door’s open!”

A moment later, the front door creaked open. “It’s me, Tate. Can I come in?”

“Come on in,” Asher said as he tore the seal off a bag of sandwich meat.

Seeing what T-shirt Tate wore was becoming something to which he looked forward, although their budding friendship was only a few days old. Like the ones before, this one was oversized. It was yellow. Across the front were the words Don’t make me violate my parole.

Her green shorts barely stuck out below the bottom of the shirt, and she had a small backpack casually slung over one shoulder.

“I’m making a sandwich. You want one?”

Tate came around into the kitchen and sidled up next to Asher, “Only if there’s enough.”

Asher pulled out enough bread slices to make both of them a sandwich. As he made their lunch, he said, “What do you want to do this afternoon? Ride bikes? Play the PS Four?”

She shook her head, “The summer’s barely started, and, um, if you don’t know –“

Her voice trailed off as she flushed.

Curious, Asher said, “Don’t know what?”

Tate bit her lower lip before saying, “Um, how to swim. I want to teach you – if it’s okay.”

The few times he’d been to local family Y near the government facility had been embarrassing. Most of the other kids knew how to swim. He didn’t want to be embarrassed here, and the easiest way to avoid that was not to go swimming.

He opened his mouth to tell Tate no when she gazed up at him with her large, brown eyes. There was something in the way she looked at him that stopped the words from coming. To fill the void of silence, Asher finished the sandwiches and slid a plate over in front of the girl.

“You know, I don’t have a swimsuit.”

Tate shrugged, “You’ve got shorts, right? Just wear some shorts.”

“Okay. But if the pool is crowded, then forget it. I don’t want an audience.”

The girl squealed and wrapped her arms around Asher’s waist, “Awesome. It’s hardly ever crowded.”

They ate in silence, standing at the kitchen countertop. After swallowing the last bite, Asher said, “These cargo shorts won’t work. They’d be too heavy when they get wet. What about you? Wearing your T-shirt and shorts?”

Tate’s little backpack had ended up on the floor next to her. Now, she picked it up and said, “I wish. I’ve got a swimsuit in my backpack. Can I use your bathroom?”

In his bedroom, Asher found some shorts that came halfway down to his knees. They were new, some of the clothes Deputy US Marshal Brown had given him. The youth pulled his cargo shorts off and then slid the other shorts over his boxers. The boxers made his shorts poof out, and he stripped again, settling for just the shorts. Once he changed into them, he tossed his shirt aside and looked down at his body. He had what might charitably be called a farmer’s tan. His arms below his elbows were lightly tanned, as was his neck. His legs, from the knees down, were also tanned. The rest of him, well, he just hoped nobody would mistake him for a vampire.

He opened his bedroom door the same moment Tate opened the bathroom door. Asher stopped in his tracks. Tate wore a purple one-piece swimsuit. It was a couple of sizes too small. Asher’s eyes traveled over her entire body. The straps dug into her shoulders, and the stretchy material tautly covered her flat chest. Most revealing, though, was the way the swimsuit pulled snuggly between her legs. The girl’s privates seemed to be poured into the swimsuit.

Asher’s mouth went dry at the puffy outline of the girl’s slit. One of the security guards at the government facility had called the visible slit in a woman’s underwear a camel toe. Even now, he didn’t pretend to understand the reference.

He stammered, “Wow. You really are a girl!”

She stuck her tongue out, “Mom hasn’t bought me a new swimsuit in two years. This is too small. If I thought I could get away with it, I’d dress like you.”

Asher had been with several men who wore women’s clothing, but that hadn’t stopped them from paying the Syndicate’s exorbitant fee and plowing his ass. He’d even heard about girls who thought they were boys and girls who thought they were boys. Was Tate like that?

Curious, he asked, “What about dressing as a boy do you like?”

Tate bit her lower lip and stared up at him, almost as though searching for something. Then she shrugged, “I just do. Boys have more comfortable clothes, easier to play in. Girl clothes are too sissy.”

Asher had never given much thought to girls. In fact, Tate was the only girl he’d ever considered a friend. None of the girls in the government facility had been remotely interesting to him, most being just as messed up as him. He preferred hanging out with the other boys. Especially Peter. And a large part of Asher found the idea of Tate pretending to be a boy sort of sexy. How did she see herself?

“Do you wish you were a boy? I mean, dressing the way you normally do…”

Tate’s cheeks flushed as her eyes drifted downward. Asher felt a tiny thrill when he realized where her eyes stopped. “Are you asking if I wish I had a wiener instead of a, um, puss?”

Asher’s lips turned up at the girl’s description, “Yeah, I guess so.”

The scarlet in Tate’s cheeks spread down her neck as her eyes fell to the floor. “I don’t know. I’ve only seen a couple of wieners, and one of them was on Mrs. Jenkin’s grandson. He’s only three.”

Asher felt a pang of sympathy. Apart from porn, he’d never seen a girl naked. He felt a bit unsettled, realizing this nearly-ten-year-old girl had seen more of a boy than he had of a girl in all his eighteen years. Moreover, he noted Tate was willing to admit to seeing her neighbor’s grandson while revealing nothing of the other one she’d seen.

While part of him liked the idea of Tate as a boy, something inside him was drawn to the girl, just as she was. His eyes found the spot between her legs, and he wondered at the mystery that girls were to him. Then he was aware of Tate’s stare, and he ripped his eyes away from her “puss” and back to her face.

“What do you like about being a girl?”

Tate’s eyebrows knit together, and her nose scrunched up in thought. Then she said, “I don’t know. Boys aren’t supposed to hit girls. But Ron and Dwayne do. Teachers at my school treat the girls better than they do the boys. I guess if I acted like I was supposed to, they’d treat me the same as the other girls.”

She fell silent for a moment, clearly thinking about the question. “Girls have more power than boys in school. We get away with more. I heard Mom talking to Mrs. Jenkins once, and she said that all she needed to get onto easy street was a rich man. I guess that’s why she spends so much time with her boss outside of work. I think he’s rich.”

Asher arched his eyebrows, “No shit? Wow. Sleeping her way to the top?”

Tate giggled, “Yeah, sometimes, like on Friday nights, Mom doesn’t come home at all.”

The red on her face deepened as her mouth turned into a small O. “That’s what she meant.”

“Your mom?”

Flushing furiously, Tate said, “Mom said that women have power over men because they want what we have.”

He knew he should change the subject, but Asher couldn’t’ help himself, “And what’s that?”

A gasp of a giggle escaped Tate’s lips, even as she glanced down her front, “You know, um, the, uh, puss. They want to put their wieners in it.”

Asher felt heat on his face and a stirring within his shorts. Even though he enjoyed the feel of a boy’s penis in his hand, mouth, and butt, this talk made him feel funny in his stomach. He really needed to change the subject. Still, he persisted, “Why do you think that is?”

Tate glanced around, as though someone might hear, “Um, you can’t tell anyone, promise?”

“I promise.”

The girl said, “Back around Spring Break, Mom brought Hank, that’s her boss, over to our place. She kicked me out, told me to go over to Mrs. Jenkins’. Only, I used my key and snuck back in. I heard noises coming from her bedroom. Her door was open, so I snuck over and peeked inside. She was sitting on him, moaning his name,” her voice modulated into an airy falsetto, “Oh, Hank, make me feel good! God, I’m about to come!”

When she finished imitating her mom, Tate couldn’t look any redder. Asher didn’t know what to say. Sure, he knew the mechanics of sex with a woman. But had never considered women enjoyed sex just as much as men. He needed to rearrange himself. His penis ached against his shorts. But the last thing he wanted was to draw Tate’s attention to him.

He couldn’t ignore the fluttering in his belly, “Girls enjoy that stuff as much as guys do, I guess.”

Tate pursed her lips as she stared at the linoleum floor, “Yeah.”

The way the girl acknowledged girls enjoying sexual play made Asher’s penis ache even more, and he found himself asking, “Does it feel good when you, um, touch it?”

Tate stared at the kitchen’s cheap linoleum floor even as she gave a tiny nod.

The acknowledgment, even the nearly imperceptible nod, created a tension that hadn’t existed before. Asher felt guilty about the way he’d steered the conversation. He placed a hand on her shoulder, “Boys do it too, Tate. It’s no big deal. You ready to go swimming?”

The girl looked up and smiled apologetically, “Um, yeah. Do you think I should keep this suit on?”

Asher ran a cursory eye over her, not really stopping to look. He was still working through his surprise at his body’s reaction to Tate. “Only if you want to. If you want to wear a pair of shorts, I promise I won’t let Ron and Dwayne mess with you.”

Tate disappeared into his bathroom and came out a few minutes later wearing a pair of red shorts. She looked so much like a young boy, Asher worried his flagging erection might return. And having once pointed it out, Tate, dressed like she was, could pass as his younger brother to an uncritical eye.

Although Asher was willing to fight to protect Tate from her tormentors, he was still glad to make it over to the pool without seeing the young bullies. He was even happier to see the pool area devoid of other people.

Setting her bag on a ratty lawn chair, Tate pulled a tube of sunscreen out, “Last year I didn’t put any on at the start of the summer, and I burned to a crisp. Can you help me put some on my back?”

The girl handed him the tube and turned away from Asher. The gel was cold in his hands and equally as cold when Tate shivered under his touch as he spread the sunscreen across her back. Tate’s skin felt soft and silky, to the point where Asher felt himself growing inside his shorts, again.

Once done with the girl’s back, Asher said, “What about your front?”

Tate turned around, her face red as she nodded, “Um, please?”

Asher had memories of rubbing his hands over Peter’s smooth, prepubescent chest, and as he rubbed the cold sunscreen across Tate’s immature chest, he closed his legs to minimize the bulge in his shorts. By the time his slick fingers brushed against the hem of the girl’s shorts, Asher’s breathing was fast and shallow.

Apparently, he wasn’t alone. When Tate took the tube from him, her chest rose and fell faster than normal. Even her voice strained when she said, “Turn around, and I’ll get your back.”

Asher shivered at the cold of the sunscreen even more than from Tate’s fingers rubbing it into his skin. When she finished his back, he wordlessly turned, offering his front. He couldn’t do anything about the bulge in his shorts. He just hoped Tate would ignore it if she saw it at all.

Tate started on his arms, even lifting them and rubbing the gel just below his hairless pits. When she finally reached his belly, after both arms and his chest, she said, “You’re so smooth, Ash. I thought you’d be hairier.”

Asher blushed at the girl’s close inspection, “I guess I’m a late bloomer. The second boy you saw, he was hairy?”

Tate wiped her fingers off on his abdomen, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Come on, let’s get in the water.”

She turned away from him and dived into the deep end. When she came up sputtering, she flashed a grin at Asher, the awkward conversation forgotten, “The water’s fine.”

The cloudy color belied her words. But it was always that way. No doubt the maintenance crew had the water’s chemical balance off. Still, Tate didn’t seem affected, so Asher sat on the concrete ledge and dangled his legs in the water.

“Slide in, Ash. You can hold onto the side of the pool.”

With his heart pounding in his chest, Asher slid into the water, keeping a tight grip on the strip of concrete ribbon encircling the pool. He’d never dared venture past the shallow end of the pool before.

“Try to stand, Ash. It’s not too deep.”

It was deep enough, he decided when he had to tilt his head to keep his nose above the waterline once his feet found the bottom. “What now?”

Tate swam over beside him and said, “Let’s start out practicing how to kick. Once you know how to kick, you’re halfway done.”

Holding onto the side of the pool, Asher let his body float on the water while he kicked in place. By the time Tate told him to stop, his legs almost felt like Jell-o. He could see how the exercises would help. The one time, right after he’d arrived at the government facility and they’d gone to the local Y, he’d managed to get over his head, and the doggie paddling he’d done to keep his head over the water had been tiring. The way Tate had him scissoring his legs made sense.

“Let’s go to the shallow end,” the girl said as Asher’s energy ebbed.

Once in the shallow end, she showed him how to float on his back. It was a bit disconcerting, and every time water poured into his ears, Asher wanted to stand up. But it was a lot more restful than kicking. They’d been in the pool for about an hour when the gate swung open, and a young woman came into the pool area, pulled along by a couple of kids barely out of diapers.

Tate sighed, “I guess that’s it for now.”

As Asher followed the girl out of the pool, the young woman didn’t give either of them a second look as she lathered sunscreen on her kids.

He fell into step beside the girl as they left the pool area, “How’d I do?”

“Pretty good. Next time, I’ll teach you how to freestyle with your arms. Once you’ve got that down, you’ll be swimming as good as me.”

When they got back to the apartment, Asher saw it was barely two in the afternoon, “When do you need to get home, Tate?”

The girl was in the kitchen, filling up a glass with water from the tap, “Mom’s usually home by six on Thursdays. Can we watch some more TV?”

“Stranger Things?”

She shook her head, “Maybe this evening, if she goes back out. Something else?”

Asher tossed a towel onto the sofa before sitting down and grabbing the remote. By the time he found The Martian, Tate had settled in beside him, her still-damp hair resting against his arm and her wet shorts touching his own.

The youth enjoyed the start of the movie. More confusing for Asher was how much he enjoyed the feel of Tate beside him. Sure, she looked like the cutest boy he’d ever seen. Yet, she was undeniably a girl. Asher stirred within his shorts, and for the life of him, he didn’t know if it was because of her boyish looks or because under the veneer, she was a pretty girl who obviously liked him.

Time would resolve the confusion, he hoped. For now, he enjoyed Tate’s closeness and moved the arm she was leaning against and slid it around her shoulders. The girl responded by scooting closer, resting her head against the side of Asher’s chest.

Somewhere around the halfway mark of the movie, Asher absentmindedly let his hand rest against the girl’s chest, his fingers a few inches above her boy-like right nipple. A bit later, Tate pulled her feet onto the couch, tucking them against her side. When she moved, more of her body rested against him. Then, she rested her right hand against his torso as she shifted her head to rest against the front of Asher’s chest.

By the time the movie ended, Asher had shifted, just enough to wrap his left arm around the girl, almost holding her in a hug. As the credits rolled, Tate snuggled against him, “Thanks for letting me hang out with you. This was fun.”

Glancing down at his lap, Asher could only agree. He’d been erect for most of the movie, and if Tate had noticed it pushing at his shorts, she hadn’t said a word. He was no closer to figuring out what about the boyish girl drew him in but was past the point of trying to figure it out. Before he could articulate his feelings, Tate sat up a bit, tilted her head up, and kissed his cheek. The electrical shock of the kiss startled him, and he jerked in his seat.

She flushed when she pulled back, a look of fear in her eyes at how he had jumped. With his hand touching the spot where she’d kissed him, Asher stammered, “Oh, wow. W-what brought that on?”

Tate bit down on her lip as her eyebrows knitted in worry, “I’m s-sorry, Ash. I s-shouldn’t have.”

Slowly, feeling a mountain of uncertainty at the feelings roiling in his stomach, Asher said, “It’s okay, Tate. I, I liked it. Just wondering what brought it on, that’s all.”

The girl released her teeth’s grip on her lower lip, “I know we’ve only been friends for a few days, Ash, but you’re the best friend I’ve ever had and I, um, wanted to show you how much I like you.”

Asher thought about how he had felt when he had been caught giving Peter a blowjob. He’d been given a tongue-lashing by the head therapist and had lost his privileges for two weeks. But he’d been told in no uncertain terms what could have happened to him as a seventeen-year-old boy messing around with a twelve-year-old boy. That’s when he realized he was too valuable to the government’s case against Perdicaris and the Syndicate for them to make an example of him. Still, he didn’t know what he wanted with Tate. His feelings for her were confused. Even so, his stomach fluttered to hear her tell him she liked him.

He leaned down and planted a quick peck on Tate’s lips. It was over almost as soon as it had begun, but it left the girl with a smile. “I like you, too,” he said.

Continued in Part 5

Copyright 2020 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

In Plain Sight – Part 3
by
Caliboy1991

Waking up without an alarm was cool. Waking up without some security guard checking his room at six in the morning was even better. When Asher opened his eyes, light flooded into the bedroom from the small crack between the curtain panels. Asher wasn’t sure if he wanted to get up just yet. The summer was his to do with as he pleased, at least until the beginning of the fall term. Provided he didn’t blow through the adequate allowance Brown had given him.

He rolled onto his back and felt his penis straining against his boxers. One thing he had plenty of time for was taking care of this. He lifted his hips and pulled his underwear down, and then grabbed his painful erection. Before long, his fist was flying up and down, as he felt the growing tingling spreading along his entire five inches. This time, he kept his eyes open as he watched the clear semen splatter against his belly. With no sperm in his semen, he wondered how long before it would thicken up and turn milky white.

He stepped across the narrow hallway separating his bedroom from the bathroom and wiped the goo off his belly before stepping into a smaller room containing the bathtub and toilet. The sound of his piss hitting the water in the bowl almost drowned out the sound of a knock at the front door. He flushed the toilet and headed over to the door. Looking through the peephole, he saw the top of Tate’s head.

He glanced down at his boxers. They were modest enough, especially now that his penis had shrunk to its normal small size. Unlocking the deadbolt, Asher opened the door. The girl looked just as boyish as before in another oversized T-shirt, this one was white, emblazoned with the word Teamwork across the top of it. Below the word was a large snowball seemingly rolling forward. Below the image was another line of text. It read A few harmless snowflakes working together can unleash an avalanche of destruction.

First, the T-shirt poking fun at Vegans and now a shirt made for cynics. Asher said, “Nice shirt.”

He left the door open, and Tate came in, “Yeah, I got a stack of them from the bargain rack at Goodwill.”

Feeling the girl’s eyes on him, Asher realized he should have put on more clothes to open the door. “Give me a sec to get dressed. You always up so early?”

Tate tapped her wrist at an imaginary watch, “Early? Dude, it’s like ten o’clock.”

Back in his bedroom, Asher saw that Tate was right. He really had slept in. After pulling on the same cargo shorts from the day before, he returned to the living room, drawing on a solid blue T-shirt.

Once dressed, Asher thought he saw a flash of a frown on the girl’s face. But if he was right, it was gone before he could give it a second glance. “I hope you didn’t get in trouble for getting in late yesterday.”

Now he was sure she frowned, “No. I was already in bed by the time Mom got home. Anyway, did you want to play Battlefront again?”

Asher’s thoughts returned to the biking trails Tate had pointed when they’d been on the swings. He really wanted to go look at bicycles. Once he found one, then he’d be able to get out and go exploring.

“I’d like to, but I wanted to see about getting a bike this morning. Those biking trails sound fun.”

Tate seemed to deflate until he mentioned the biking trails, “Oh, those trails are pretty sweet. I could show them to you.”

Asher found the girl’s enthusiasm contagious. “I’d like that. What kind of bike do you have?”

She shrugged, “A Gravity. I got it from Mrs. Jenkins. Her son left it when he joined the army.”

Not knowing much about bicycles, Asher said, “Sounds cool. Maybe we can hit the trails when I get back.”

Tate’s face grew wistful, “I could help show you the bikes. I promise I wouldn’t be a pest.”

Asher was tempted to let her go with him. Still, her mom seemed like borrowing trouble. “I dunno, Tate. Your mom wouldn’t want you getting in a car with a stranger.”

Tate scoffed, “You’re not a stranger, Ash. So, can I come? Please!”

The girl’s plaintive whine sounded adorable, and Asher had to admit, at least to himself, he wouldn’t mind her company. She was the first person in a very long time that didn’t seem to want anything from him. Even the US Marshals wanted his testimony. Still, Asher worried about taking the girl with him.

“What about that Mrs. Jenkins lady? She watches you during the day, right?”

Tate doubled over in laughter, “Oh, yeah. Right. As long as I pop in a couple of times a day, she couldn’t care less. Sometimes even less than that. She couldn’t do anything the last time Ron and Dwayne picked on me.”

Ron and Dwayne? Those must have been Acne Face and Fatso.

“Tell you what, you tell her where you’ll be, and I guess I’ll let you come, okay?”

Before he could reconsider the offer, Tate was out the door at a run. By the time Asher collected his keys and wallet, she was back, out of breath, but wearing a huge smile, “All set.”

As he headed toward the Taurus, Asher said, “What exactly did you tell her?”

Skipping along beside him, Tate said, “I don’t know that she paid me any mind, but I told her I was hanging out with you.”

Asher pushed the key into the ignition, “And I’m sure you mentioned that I’m eighteen. And taking you out bike shopping?”

Tate grinned, “I didn’t want to bother her with too many details. She is awfully old.”

Shaking his head, Asher said, “Hmm, well, buckle up, and we’ll get going.”

There was a Sporting Goods store a few miles away. Between his inexperience behind the wheel and the lunchtime rush hour, it took twenty minutes to go four miles. Asher was a basket of nerves by the time he pulled into a parking space.

Tate glanced over at him, “You don’t like driving, do you?”

Asher pulled the keys from the ignition, “Dunno. Only got my license like a month ago.”

He hadn’t enjoyed the driver’s education course he had to take the last month before his birthday. But even the US Marshals weren’t willing to give him a driver’s license or a car without it. Maybe with more time behind the wheel, he’d learn to enjoy it.

The selection of bicycles ran along one side of the store. There were more than a hundred different models—kids’ bikes, ten-speeds, fat-wheeled bikes masquerading as mountain bikes, and then the real deal. Of the dozen mountain bike models, Asher kept coming back to a Schwinn model. While he was no expert, the bike’s specs seemed better than the other mountain bikes.

After going back and forth between several choices, Asher finally growled, “Hell if I know which to get.”

“I like the Schwinn. It’s about the same size as mine,” Tate said, her shoulder rubbing against my elbow. It was three hundred dollars and some change.

About that time, a sales associate came over, “Can I help you boys?”

Boys? Asher bit back a response. It really wasn’t the sales associate’s fault. There was a good reason Tate once thought he was only thirteen or fourteen. And an equally good reason he’d first thought she was a boy.

He felt something brush against his hand, and before Asher knew it, Tate’s smaller hand was in his larger one as she said, “Yeah, my brother likes this bike. Can we see it?”

While the sales associate pulled a keychain from his pocket and unlocked the bike rack, Asher stared down at the girl, holding his hand. Tate simply grinned back up at him until the sales associate pulled the bike down and said, “Here you go. Not the top of the line, but the best mountain bike we carry in the store.”

Asher took the bike from the young man and straddled the seat. He closed his eyes and for a moment and was eight years old again. That bike was much smaller, made for his small body. He was riding on the street in front of his childhood home, the wind blowing through his short-cropped hair. Then he blinked, and he was back in the store, Tate looking up at him.

“Whatcha think?” she asked.

Asher liked the feel of the bike as he moved it backward and forward in the aisle. When he put one of his feet on the pedal, it just felt right. “I like it. Just need to see if we can get a better seat.”

Thirty minutes later, with the sales associate’s help, Asher had the bike crammed into the back seat of the car. They’d taken the front tire off, but the bike came with an Allen wrench, so putting it back on would be easy. Or so he hoped.

There was a McDonald’s on the other side of the busy intersection. Asher nodded toward it, “You hungry?”

Tate fidgeted in the seat, “We can go on home. Mom’s got food for me there.”

The girl’s words and her body language were wholly at odds. Curious, Asher said, “When was the last time you ate at McDonald’s?”

Tate looked away, out the side of the car, “Dunno. A while ago, I guess.”

“Your mom ever bring home takeout?” Asher asked. One of the treats at the government facility was weekly pizza parties and burgers from a nearby fast-food joint. One thing Asher had learned since the FBI raid was that regular people ate fast food more often than they ought to.

The girl shrugged, “Sure. For herself. Mom says that she buys me food from the grocery store, so why should she buy more food for me when she stops to get something for herself.”

Asher knew he didn’t know much about healthy family dynamics. How the hell could he? His life had been pretty fucked up. But if what the girl said was true, then Tate’s mom was a self-serving bitch.

When the road had cleared, Asher punched the accelerator, and the car zoomed across six lanes of traffic into the McDonald’s parking lot, “Well, I don’t care if you’ve got something back at your place to eat. I’m hungry right now, so let’s go see what they have.”

As Tate started to say something, he was out of the car, walking toward the restaurant. A few heartbeats later, the passenger side door swung open, and the girl ran over to him with a toothy smile. “Thanks, Ash. You’re awesome.”

A bit later, Asher sat across from Tate, biting into his Big Mac. The girl had smeared ketchup around her mouth when she’d tried taking a big bite from her own burger. He’d never seen the girl with a happier look on her face, which was more than worth the few dollars he’d paid for her meal. After all, Asher still had nearly all the cash Brown had given him a couple of days before.

When he swallowed a bite, Asher said, “You want to show me those trails when we get back?”

He hadn’t meant to, but he asked the question just as the girl took a bite. Instead of talking through her food, Tate just nodded. Once she took a sip of soda, she followed it up with, “One time, I went so far down one of the bike trails, I got onto the city’s official bike trail. And I went all the way downtown.”

“How long did that take?”

Tate flushed, “I was so late getting back. Mom grounded me for a week, and that was after giving me a spanking.”

Asher shifted around in his seat at the notion of getting a spanking. A couple of the guys in the Syndicate hadn’t hesitated to lash out if he made a mistake or stepped out of line. His ass had been tanned more than a few times. The more he learned about Tate’s mom, the less he liked her.

“She grounded you and spanked you?”

The girl nodded as she munched on a fry.

Asher shook his head at what he’d learned, “What time’s your mom get home? We’ll make sure we’re back by then.”

Tate frowned, “That’s the hard thing, Ash. She’s supposed to be home by six. But sometimes she doesn’t get home unit seven or even eight. And if it’s on a Friday, who knows?”

There wasn’t much he could do about it. “We’ll just make sure we get you home before Maleficent normally gets home.”

The government facility warehoused kids like him, and Disney movies were an everyday staple in the common rooms. In the two years he’d stayed there, Asher was pretty sure he’d seen just about every Disney Cartoon a half dozen times, no matter how much they bored him. But the name struck home, and Tate nearly fell from her chair, giggling. “Ohh, s-she’d k-kill me if I ever called her that!”

When he was through, Asher wadded up the wrapping paper his hamburger came in and tossed it in the empty French fry box. “I’m dying to try my new bike on the trails. Just give me a couple of minutes. Gotta go.”

Tate put their trash on the tray, “Yeah, the way you drive, it might be a couple of hours before we get home. Me, too.”

Asher was taken aback when Tate followed him into the men’s restroom. Thankfully, it appeared empty when he turned around and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Tate shrugged, as though her presence was enough of an answer. Then her eyes were drawn to the wall mirror over the sinks. “Wow, Ash. We really do look like brothers.”

Their reflections staring back, Asher saw how the girl might think so. His hair was just a shade darker brown than hers. Even their eyes were the same chocolate color. Beyond that, though, even their chins and cheeks were similarly shaped. But without Tate saying something, he likely would never have noticed.

Then he felt it again. Tate’s small fingers snaked through his, and she gripped his hand for only a few seconds before she headed for the lone enclosed stall. Uncertain what just happened, Asher peed into one of the urinals.

Tate was wrong. The drive back to the apartment complex took less than twenty minutes. Before long, Asher had reassembled the front wheel, and they were ready to hit the trails.

Continued in Part 3

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