September 2025

In Plain Sight – Part 7
by
Caliboy1991

Asher pulled at the drawstring and tucked it into his swimsuit. The red material came halfway to his knees, ending mid-thigh. These were so much better than the shorts with which he’d started the summer. Four weeks had made quite a difference. He sported a light tan across his torso. Even his legs, which had been a pasty white, were now more brown than white.

Stepping over to the toilet, he cursed as he undid the drawstring and pulled his swimsuit down. As he peed, he inspected himself. He’d been plucking a few stray hairs every few days, almost to the point where it didn’t hurt. Almost. Now, though, he felt smooth to the touch. A quick inspection of the rest of his body confirmed what he already knew. As of yet, no other hair to contend with.

A knock at the door ended his inspection, and a moment later, Tate came in. She wore another one of her oversized T-shirts. It was white, and across it was emblazoned, Six out of Seven Dwarves are not Happy.

“Your mom home today?” Asher asked.

“Yeah. She’s taking me out for my birthday this evening. She’s going to take me out to eat, and then we’re going to go see Beauty and the Beast!”

Tate hadn’t let Asher forget this was her birthday. For the past week, she’d dropped hints about what she wanted her Prince Charming to give her. And like the dutiful but secret boyfriend, Asher hoped he’d picked right.

He followed her out the door, over to the swimming pool. Acne Face and Fatso, aka Ron and Dwayne, hadn’t shown their face in a couple of weeks, which suited Asher just fine. The young lady with two toddlers was nowhere to be seen when they arrived. Asher let Tate smear sunblock over his torso and arms and returned the favor on the girl’s arms before they ran and jumped in the cool water. By now, Asher could hardly believe he’d never learned how to swim until Tate had shown him. Now, he could zip between the shallow and deep ends even faster than Tate.

They had been at the pool for a while, and the sun was directly overhead as Asher stood in water up to his shoulder. His hands were in the air, gripping Tate’s as she balanced herself on his shoulders. He crouched low, dropping down until his nose was just above the waterline when a voice called out, “Tatum, darling, come here!”

Tate’s foot slipped off his shoulder, and she fell on top of Asher as both of them sank below the water. When Asher popped above the surface, Tate’s mom was standing over by the gate. The young man hadn’t been around the girl’s mom much over the past few weeks, but he suspected the faux kindness of ‘darling’ didn’t bode well for his secret girlfriend.

He followed Tate over to the side of the pool. Waving, he said, “Hi, Ms. Campbell. Nice day today.”

The girl’s mother looked over at him with a slightly confused look, “Oh, hello, um, Clint.”

While Ashton didn’t bother correcting her, Tate piped up, “His name’s Clay, Mom.”

There was a flash in the woman’s eyes, but it was gone almost as soon as Ashton has seen it. “Why aren’t you wearing your yellow swimsuit, dear? You’re practically exposing your chest to, um, Clay.”

Ashton saw the same glimmer of anger in Tate’s eyes, “It’s two years old. It doesn’t fit anymore. Even if it did, what do I have to cover up?”

The anger flashed in Ms. Campbell’s eyes as her nose flared, “Don’t sass me, Tatum. Your momma works way too hard to provide for you. Sometimes you can be so ungrateful. I swear.”

Her eyes caught Ashton staring at her. It was as if someone had flipped a switch. “Anyway, I came down here to tell you that Hank, I mean, Mr. Chronis has an important meeting with clients out of town tomorrow. He’s asked me to come with him. Take notes, that kind of thing.”

Tate’s face fell, “But Mom! My birthday – You promised!”

“Jesus, Tatum. I’ve got a job to do. I wish you weren’t so fucking selfish.”

From where she knelt by the side of the pool, Ms. Campbell stood up and with contempt in her eyes, said, “Mrs. Jenkins will keep an eye on you while I’m gone. I should be back Tuesday. I’ll let her know if it drags into Wednesday.”

When she reached the gate, she turned back, stared daggers at Tate, then gave a long look at Asher. “Girls are more trouble than their worth, Clint. Find yourself a good boyfriend. You’ll be happier.”

With that, she was gone. It was the longest conversation Asher witnessed between Tate and her mom and the most brutal by far. Tate leaned against the side of the pool, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Distraught, she sobbed, “That f-fucking bitch!”

He slid around behind her and wrapped his arms around the girl, holding her as she cried. When the sobs ended, Asher leaned forward, his mouth next to Tate’s ear, “Hey, Cinderella. Why would you want to go celebrate your birthday with Maleficent when you can come celebrate it with your Prince Charming?”

Tate hiccupped and then laughed as she turned around in his arms. Her arms snaked around his neck, and she leaned in and gave him a salty, wet kiss. “Really, Ash? You’d take me out for my birthday?”

Thankful they were alone, he kissed her again, “Yeah. I had wanted to anyway, but didn’t want to mess anything up between you and your mom.”

Shaking her head, Tate said, “Not possible. Can we have another sleepover when we get home?”

They’d only managed the once a few weeks before. The idea of another sent blood rushing from one head to another. “Shouldn’t you check with Mrs. Jenkins? Make sure she knows where you’re at?”

Chuckling, Tate climbed from the pool, “Come on. There’s something you should see.”

Following the girl across the parking lot, Asher saw that they were heading toward the girl’s apartment building. He’d seen the inside of her room a couple of times. Instead of going to her apartment, Tate knocked on the door across the breezeway. Without waiting for a response, she opened the door.

“Mrs. J? It’s Tatum.”

With that introduction, the girl waved Asher into the apartment. There’s a smell that permeates old people’s homes, a cross between talcum powder and Bengay ointment. That was the smell assaulting Asher’s nose when the door closed behind him.

A TV played quietly against one wall of the living room. A sofa, older and drabber than the government-issued one in Asher’s apartment, was on the other side of the room. An older woman was hunched over, her eyes glued to the TV.

When Tate sat down and touched Mrs. Jenkins’ shoulder, the old woman slowly turned her head, “Oh, hello, Rebecca. I didn’t see you there. Is Bobby with you?”

“It’s me, Mrs. J. Tatum. From across the hall.”

A confused expression washed over the old woman. She blinked a few times and then slowly turned her head toward the TV.

Getting back to her feet, Tate said, “Her mind’s not really here anymore. I don’t understand how she manages to make it on her own. Her daughter, that’s Rebecca, comes over a couple of times a month to check on her.”

Curious, Asher said, “Who’s Bobby?”

Tate headed toward the door, “Her son. He died a long time ago.”

Her hand rested on the doorknob, “So, can we have another sleepover? Mrs. J won’t care.”

Shaking his head as he looked back at the old woman, “No kidding. Yeah. You can stay over at my place until your mom gets back.”

***

Watching Tate shift around in her dress was fun, Asher decided as he forced his attention to the menu.

After tugging at her clothing for the umpteenth time, the girl said, “Are you sure I look okay, Ash? I think people are staring at me.”

It took all of Asher’s willpower to keep the corners of his lips from turning up. “Yeah, Tate. You look beautiful in that dress. I had no idea you even had one.”

Tate grumbled, “I wish I didn’t. But Mom bought it for school. Surprised it still fits.”

Asher’s leg stretched below the table. When he found the girl’s bare leg, he rubbed his leg up and down on it until Tate flushed and smiled. Leaning forward, she whispered, “Stop it, Ash. What will people think?”

The youth knew Tate made a good point. To anyone who might look at them, they might think a thirteen-, perhaps fourteen-year-old boy was treating his younger sister to dinner. He flashed a quick smile as he pulled his leg back, “You’re right. Later, then.”

A waiter sauntered over a bit later and took their drink orders. Dr Pepper for him and lemonade for her. By the time he returned with their drinks, Asher looked at his watch. They would be cutting it close to make the move if this joker didn’t pick up the pace.

Feeling anxious about ruining Tate’s birthday, Asher told the waiter, “I’m taking my sister to see a movie after this. We’re ready to order.”

Their waiter looked like he was still in college. He was trying to grow a beard and failing badly at it. “Sure, little dude. What’ll you have?”

After placing the order and watching their waiter mosey over to the kiosk where he could send the order to the kitchen, Asher watched as the wannabe-slacker chatted with a pretty waitress who was keying in an order. He tried not to fume at how long it took for their order to get sent back to the kitchen eventually.

“It’s okay, Ash. If we miss the movie, maybe we can catch it tomorrow.”

The teenager’s eyes softened as he looked back at Tate. She wore a half-hearted smile. “You’ve been looking at your watch a lot. And that look you gave that guy, I’ve seen it before. It’s the same look Mom gives me sometimes.”

Embarrassed at how easily the girl had read his mood, Asher apologized. “After your mom bailing on you, I wanted this evening to be as perfect as possible.”

The girl’s hand snaked across the table, grabbing his, “I was so angry at Mom for ditching me, but this is a bazillion times better. I’d rather be with you any day.”

“Thanks,” Asher said, “I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather be with either.”

By the time their waiter returned with their entrees, it was clear they weren’t going to make the movie. The waiter’s nonchalant tone was almost too much, “Here you kids go, the shrimp platter for the little dude and the seafood linguini for his baby sister.”

Only the look of warning from Tate kept Asher from going off on their slacker-waiter. When they were alone again, Tate leaned over to the table, “Jeeze, he’s a dork.”

Peeling one of the shrimp, Asher nodded, “Yeah. I don’t know how he manages to walk and chew gum at the same time.”

Thirty minutes passed before their waiter stopped by and dropped off the checks. Barely able to contain his frustration, Asher loudly crunched on the ice from his drink glass as he looked at the bill. As if he were completely oblivious, the waiter disappeared into the kitchen with a promise to “be right back.”

Looking in his wallet, if Asher paid with cash, that would pretty much clean out what Deputy US Marshall Brown had given him. It had been a month since his arrival, and just as promised, the second payment hit his bank account the day before. Fifteen hundred dollars a month on top of his fully-paid-for apartment seemed like a lot to Asher as he put his debit card on top of the ticket.

Another fifteen minutes passed before they saw their waiter again. There was the burnt smell of cigarettes on him when he took the card, “I’ll be right back.”

Another look at his watch confirmed the movie had already started. Tate reached across again, “Stop looking at your watch, Ash. He’s not going to grow wings and fly.”

Repressing a frown, Asher said, “You’re right, Tate. I’m sorry. But it’s your birthday.”

She squeezed his hand, “Yep. And I’m with you.”

Ten minutes later, their waiter returned, “Here you go, little dude. You familiar with how to sign the receipt?”

Asher had ordered pizza often enough by now to learn how to sign a debit card receipt. After reading about tips online, he’d started adding those to the bottom of the receipts, feeling bad about the first couple of times that he’d unintentionally stiffed the delivery drivers. Now, as he malevolently grinned up at the waiter, Asher scrawled the signature he’d practiced a hundred times at Brown’s insistence and then put a goose-egg in the space for the tip.

“Yeah. This little dude knows how to sign his receipt. He even knows how to tip when he gets half-way decent service.”

Ignoring the dumbfounded expression on slacker-dude’s face, Asher slid out from the booth and offered his hand to his date. As he opened the passenger door for Tate, he half expected their waiter to run after them and cuss them out. He exhaled in relief when he slid into his seat and started the car, “Sorry about that, Tate. I really wanted to make your birthday something special.”

The girl leaned across the console and kissed his cheek before settling back into her seat and buckling up, “You are, Ash. We’re still having a slumber party at your place. That’ll be special.”

Asher’s face was warm as he turned onto the road and drove them home.

***

Asher had barely thrown the deadbolt home when Tate threw her arms around his neck and, standing on her tiptoes, planted a kiss on his lips. Before he could think about it, his hands snaked around the girl’s waist and pulled her into an embrace.

Wanting more than just a simple kiss, Asher slipped his tongue through his lips and pressed it against Tate’s. A moment passed before she opened her mouth and let him in. The taste of garlicky pasta mingled with her familiar taste, pulling at him until Tate was all he could think about. When the kiss ended, he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into the bedroom. All thoughts beyond being with the girl were gone as he reached for the hem of her dress.

Asher couldn’t explain why, but seeing Tate in her plain white panties made him feel even harder within the constricting confines of his pants. Her hesitant smile from a month ago now replaced by a longing of her own, the girl reached out and unbuttoned his shirt. She slid it from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

Unable to contain his feelings any more, Asher stepped forward, guiding the girl onto his bed. His body pressed against her side as his lips found the girl’s again. No words were necessary between them as the youth felt Tate’s tongue slide into his own with confidence born of desire.

Even as the girl’s tongue slid along his, Asher’s hand reached down, slipping between Tate’s smooth skin and the narrow hem of her panties. He didn’t stop until his fingers found her puffy lips and the hooded bit of skin sheltering her immature clit.

Tate moaned in Asher’s mouth. The intense pleasure written on her face only stirred the eighteen-year-old’s ardor. The kiss ended when the girl gulped a deep breath of air. Asher moved his lips down to her neck, caressing her with his lips. From there, his lips touched her boyishly small nipples until they grew hard under his tongue.

Asher wanted to taste all of Tate. Her lips, her chest, her belly, and as he reached her panties, her very essence. He slipped the cotton material down her legs, exposing the puffy smoothness of her mons. When Tate pulled her legs wide, Asher lowered his face down and kissed her above her slit. Encouraged by her muffled moan and a full-bodied shudder, the teenager kissed the girl’s hood before tentatively sticking his tongue out, sliding it under the cleft of skin. His receptors picked up a taste of chlorine from their swimming earlier, along with a bit of salty sweat. There was something else, a hint of something tangy as well.

Asher did his best to block out the innumerable times he’d been forced to give the Syndicate’s myriad of clients blow jobs. Even so, he thought fondly of the times he and Peter had gone down on each other. Sucking on a guy’s cock isn’t the same as eating a girl. But as Asher’s relationship with Tate had grown over the past few weeks, he’d thought of this moment a lot. He’d even watched some porn videos online to guide him.

He opened his mouth, putting all of it over her slit while keeping his tongue on Tate’s little button of a clit. The taste of sweat and chlorine faded as Asher’s tongue worked the girl over. But that citrusy tang spread across his tongue as Tate became wet.

The youth licked and sucked on the girl, working his way to her hole. She was wetter here than at her clit, surprising Asher as he let her juices seep across his tongue. His finger found Tate’s clit as his tongue pressed against her hole. He slid inside when Tate pushed down on him with a loud moan.

With Asher’s finger caressing and tongue pushing into Tate, it wasn’t long before the girl’s hips ground into his mouth as she grabbed one of Asher’s pillows and moaned into it with wild abandon. Despite the room’s comfortable temperature, sweat plastered Tate’s hair to her forehead as her eyes shifted in and out of focus as she smiled happily up at Asher.

“Happy birthday, Cinderella,” he said, unable to keep the grin off a face slick with the girl’s juices.

A few minutes passed as Tate came down from her orgasmic high. When at last she found her voice, she said, “Wow, wow, wow. When you touched me on my puss, I didn’t know it could get any better. Now I do.”

Lying with his body pressed against the girl, Asher said, “It’s the least I could do for the prettiest birthday girl.”

Being reminded twice that she was now ten-years-old, Tate ran her hand from Asher’s neck all the way down his body until she reached his belt. “What did you get me for my birthday?”

Chuckling at the girl’s frustration at finding his penis locked away behind his pants, Asher said, “What? Doing that to you wasn’t enough of a birthday present?”

Tate gave him a knowing smile, “Come on, Ash. You liked what you did as much as me. Well, maybe almost as much as me.”

Laughing, Asher said, “There’s a bag under the bed. Your gift is in it.”

With more energy than he’d expected from a girl who’d just had the most powerful orgasm in her young life, Tate rolled off the bed and pulled a pink gift bag from below. When she pulled out what was inside, she gasped, “Oh, wow. Thanks.”

She held the Kindle in her hand, turning it around and looking at the sides. Finally, she said, “How do I turn it on?”

Leering at his girl, Asher said, “Not the same way that you turn me on.”

Tate’s eyes rose, catching the double meaning. Then she playfully swatted him on the chest before handing him the device.

Asher had fully charged it the day before when he’d downloaded a couple of dozen books to it. He had it turned on and back into the girl’s hands before she could do more than play with one of his nipples. She swiped her hand across the screen until she said, “Are all these books mine?”

“Yeah. I tried to find books I thought you’d like.”

Tate set the Kindle down and wrapped her arms around his neck as she kissed him. So much had changed over the past month. The girl had gone from having no idea how to use her mouth to an experienced kisser in such a short time. Of course, Asher thought he’d gotten better too.

When Tate broke the kiss, her hands flew to Asher’s belt. She freed it from the loops and tossed it on the floor, and then unfastened and unzipped him.

“Lift up,” she said as she pulled at Asher’s pants. He wanted her just as much as she was eager for him, so he lifted his hips as she pulled down both his pants and underwear. Tate didn’t stop until she dropped them on the floor.

Leaning over him, Tate took his erection in her small hands. Then to the youth’s surprise, she lowered her head and kissed his flared glans. When her tongue touched him, Asher wondered if he’d died and gone to heaven. Sure, Peter had given him a blowjob, but somehow, Tate felt different as she tasted him. Peter had gone down, taking his inches into his mouth and sucking him as fast as possible, as if the more quickly he made Asher cum, the less likely anyone would be to see them. Although that hadn’t mattered in the end.

Tate took her time. Her tongue lapped around his head, driving his senses wild. She held him at the base and licked all five inches in one pass before she took his head into her mouth. Her tongue played across his piss-slit before she took in another inch. There wasn’t anything hurried in the girl’s actions, even when she took in more than half of Asher’s penis. She sucked on him, sending warm, tingling feelings everywhere her mouth touched. Then she pulled back until just his head remained. Back down again. Four inches this time. The feeling of her throat on the tip of his erection sent a powerful shiver up Asher’s spine even as the girl coughed and gagged when she pulled him out.

The idea that his erect penis was longer than her mouth hadn’t crossed Asher’s mind before. Before he could say anything else, Tate took him back in. At four inches, he could feel her throat relax as she breathed heavily through her nose, trying to avoid her gag reflex. Then she pushed down. Asher felt two things at the same time. His mushroom-shaped head bumped against the back of Tate’s throat at the same time as he felt her lips brush against his pubic bone.

All of that, taken together, was too much. Faster than it ever had before, this tingling throughout his penis surged through him. “Tate, I’m about to –“

Before he could finish, a feeling like an electrical shock stole through Asher’s body. More powerful than any orgasm before, his penis jerked in the girl’s mouth as he came. Three spasms, three quick little blasts of semen hit the top and back of Tate’s mouth as she pulled back until just Asher’s head remained inside.

When Tate let his penis slip out, it lost its stiffness, and Asher closed his eyes as he came down from his ecstatic orgasm. Nothing in his eighteen years compared to what he’d just felt. Asher lay on the bed, awash in post-orgasmic bliss as Tate snuggled against his chest. As the girl played with his nipples, Asher fell asleep.

***

The light below the ceiling fan blinded Asher for a moment when he opened his eyes. Rapidly blinking, he wondered for how long he had been asleep. About the time he realized his bladder was painfully full, he realized Tate’s sleeping form was draped against his own. Both were still naked from their earlier activities.

He craned his neck and found his alarm clock on the nightstand beside the bed. It was only a few minutes after midnight. There was simply no way to go back to sleep when he had to pee so badly. As carefully as possible, Asher untangled himself from Tate and slid out of bed before padding across the short hallway to the bathroom, where he soon found relief.

On the way back to his bed, Asher stopped in front of the mirror over the bathroom sink. Running a hand over his pubic area, it still felt a bit weird being so smooth. But the delight on Tate’s face when she played with him down there made the temporary pain from tweezing worth it.

Back in his bedroom, Tate sat in his bed, rubbing her eyes, “Is it morning yet?”

Asher tousled her short hair before lying down, “No, Cinderella. It’s only midnight.”

Tate slid across his body, stopping briefly when she lay fully on top of him to plant a peck on his lips. When she broke the kiss, she said, “I gotta pee too.”

She slid the rest of the way off and ran to the bathroom. A tuneless humming came from there as Asher thought about the feeling of her body on his a moment before. By the time the girl returned, his five inches were hard, laying against his lower abdomen.

Tate smiled at his erection as she climbed onto the bed. When she made to slide over him to resume laying next to him, Asher’s arms slid around her as he leaned forward and kissed her. His erection poked up, digging against the girl’s butt as his lips connected with hers. Despite dozens of kisses over the past month, he’d never held her to his body naked like this before.

Tate giggled after the kiss ended, as Asher’s arms remained around her. “You’re wiener’s really close to my puss, Ash. You’re not trying to put it in me, are you?”

Feeling his erection twitch, Asher said, “Would it be okay if I did?”

The girl’s eyes grew serious, and her mouth relaxed as Asher felt her study his face for a long moment. Her teeth bit on her lower lip before she said, “I know you’ll be gentle.”

Asher couldn’t take his eyes off the girl’s face as they moved so that he was on top of her. As his lips met hers again, he held his erection with one hand as he moved it down her open, puffy labia. He felt his glans find her hole and then slid it around in the small space between her clit and vagina until it was slick.

“You ready, Cinderella?”

Nodding, the girl’s arms reached around him, her voice warbled with nerves, “Y-yeah, my Prince Charming.”

Asher pushed gradually forward, gasping when his glans disappeared within her tight confining hole. In response, Tate’s face twisted at the pressure. Stopping, the youth said, “Does it hurt?”

Tate shook her head, “Not much. You feel really big in me. Keep going. Just slow.”

Asher waited a bit and then gently slid a bit deeper. Tate’s face relaxed as she added, “Feels better now. Deeper.”

Inch by inch, Asher slid the rest of his erection in, until his pubic bone pushed against Tate’s bald mons. He squeezed his eyes closed at the extraordinary tightness enveloping his five inches. Despite the girl taking care of him earlier, the eighteen-year-old knew he wouldn’t last long.

He rocked backward on his hips, stopping when he felt the tip of his erection just inside the girl. Then he slid all the way in, eliciting a rapturous moan from Tate. No words were necessary as he rocked backward and forward, feeling the tight walls of the now-ten-year-old girl’s pussy.

Asher’s penis tingled more powerfully now than it had when Tate’s lips were locked around it. Deep within himself, he started to shake as the tingling exploded within. His erection spasmed harder than ever before, trapped in Tate’s vise-grip as his semen erupted deep inside the girl.

It felt more intensely good than even the blow-job Tate had given him earlier in the evening. He didn’t want it to end as he kept moving in and out of her. A few seconds after his erection stopped pulsating within the girl, Tate’s nails dug into Asher’s back as her legs flew around his waist. She pushed her head against Asher’s neck as she yelled against his collarbone.

When Asher stopped, he stayed buried to his hilt, amazed at the rush he was only now coming down from. After Tate’s body stopped shaking, she threw her head back, “Again, Ash. That was in-cred-a-ble!”

It was a long time before the two of them finally went to sleep the night Tate turned ten.

The End.

Copyright 2020 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved

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
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