Author: Hardguy
Title: friends (Work in Progress)
Summary: The following story is a work in progress and is presented
as is. It may be unformatted, contain misspellings, poor grammar,
half constructed thoughts, and continuity errors. Story title may be
misleading, as the plot may change during the writing process from
the initial inspiration. If anything, it is presented in an effort to
gauge reader interest.
Keywords: b/g, ped, 1st, cons

      Evan walked into the swim center and found a seat on the
bleachers, his usual seat.  He watched, a little bored as the teams
went through their drills, but scanned the pool like usual for Stacy.
She wasn't hard to find, her unique rainbow banded swimcap like a
beacon amidst several others of solid colors.
      
      He didn't know why he always came in to sit and watch the last
few minutes of her swim practice before they would walk home
together.  He didn't really need to, he could just have waited
outside for her like so many friends and parents did.  He guessed it
was because it was less boring (and warmer) than just lurking around
outside.  He saw her talking with a coach in the pool, and when the
conversation had ended, her head turned around to look his direction
and a smile spread across her face as her hand came out of the water
to wave at him.  He returned the gesture, despite feeling a little
silly doing it.  A whistle blew and the practice was over, and 11-
year old Evan watched 11-year old Stacy head for the ladder and into
the locker room.
      
      
      
      
      "No, Evan, that is not how it works," Stacy said as she closed
the door and the two young friends started down the sidewalk.  "First
you shoot the robot, then you jump over the pit, and then you can get
the power up."
      
      "But that's so stupid," Evan argued back.  "You need to leave
the robot alive so that the other bad guys don't attack you.  You're
not even supposed to get that weapon orb anyways, it's a trap."  
      
      Stacy let out an exasperated groan.  Between the two of them,
she was the video game expert.  It just so happened that Evan was the
one with the games.  "I've seen it like a million times on the
internet," she insisted.  "You are supposed to get it, because you
can't shoot the final boss with anything else.  I will show you."  
      
      The two 11-year olds walked in silence as Evan thought up his
next defense.  He was the one who had the game, and had played it
over and over.  Stacy was just a girl who had never done it
herself...she just had a knack for getting him out of those tight
spots he usually found himself in, that's all.  He looked over at
her, particularly at her hands.  There must be something special
about her hands that let her use the controller so well, that's all. 
He looked down a little lower and saw she was wearing a skirt and
tights, but they both were wearing thicker fall jackets, and the air
was cold enough that their breaths showed when they exhaled.  "Aren't
you cold?"
      
      "Huh?" she asked, and then saw the angle his gaze was taking
to her legs.  "Kinda, I guess.  We're just going to your house." 
Stacy felt that funny feeling again.  It had been happening a lot
around Evan lately, particularly when he would look at her face or
would say things about how she looked.  It was kind of scary, but
also exciting.  She wondered what he might say if he saw her in her
new dress she was going to wear for the school spring program, or in
a bikini...  She felt her cheeks burn hot against the cold air, but
quickly reassured herself that it was because it was so cold out,
that had to be why, not because of Evan.
      
      They passed by a turn off to a dead end where a paved
trailhead started into the forested greenspace that sat in the middle
of their neighborhood.
      
      "Let's take-"
      
      "You wanna-"
      
      The two started to speak at the same time and both stopped and
waited for the other.
      
      "It's faster-"
      
      "We can go-"
      
      Evan, instead of trying to talk as they interrupted each other
once again, just nodded his head at the path, making Stacy giggle. 
"Yeah, ok," she said with a smile.  She noticed that Evan was smiling
too and looking at her face, which got her tummy feeling all jittery
and excited again.
      
      The two had walked this path hundreds of times before and felt
perfectly safe doing so.  Not that there was any real risk to taking
this route, since numerous houses backed up to the forested trail. 
If they ran into any trouble, they need only yell and probably would
draw the attention of homeowners.  Approximately 100 yards down the
trail, noises from a home drew their attention instead.  The pair
stopped dead in their tracks and looked at each other.  
      
      "Did you hear--" Stacy asked.
      
      "--something strange?" Evan finished for her.  They heard it
again.  High-pitched, like a woman's scream, only it was more like a
squeal.  The two turned to look at the home they were standing
behind.  Unlike most of the homes, this one lacked a fence across the
back of the property and the small patch of grass and cement patio
with sliding glass door were exposed to the wooded surroundings. 
Instead there was a shallow ditch between it and the path in which
some water flowed.  They heard it again, and this time since they
were listening so intently, they heard another voice as well, this
one was deeper and grunting.  The two kids exchanged another look and
wordlessly headed towards the house.
      
      They crossed the standing muddy water in the ditch with a hop
and as they got closer and closer to the sliding glass door, Stacy
began to feel uneasy.  "Evan...maybe we shouldn't..." she whispered,
reaching out to grab the sleeve of his coat.  Evan was already
leaning forward to look through the glass, but a frown soon crossed
his face.
      
      "I don't see an--" he was interrupted by more sounds from
inside the house, but now that they were closer to it, they could
tell that the source was from the side.  Evan wasted no time and
headed in that direction, leaving a nervous Stacy following from
several steps behind him.  They rounded the side of the house and saw
an open window that was above their heads, and a series of grunts,
whimpers, and moans were clearly coming from through the wire screen
that covered the open window.
      
      "Lift me up so I can see," Evan told her.  Stacy looked at him
like he was crazy.
      
      "I can't lift you!  I'm a girl!" she said.
      
      "Fine, I'll lift you up so you can look," he said and cupped
his hands and held them down for her to step up on.  Stacy wasn't
sure that this was a great idea, and she was already worried about
being seen trespassing.  More gasps came from the window, accompanied
this time by a female voice saying "yes, yes!"  Now Stacy's curiosity
took over her actions and she put her pink sneaker on Evan's offered
hands and reached up for the window sill.
      
      Evan lifted and Stacy raised her other foot to be supported by
his hands as well.  She only needed an extra foot of lift to be able
to see inside and once Evan had given her the necessary boost, her
eyes went wide.  The room was obviously a bedroom, and a girl's one
at that judging by the general light pink tone of the furnishings. 
Opposite the window, a bed was up against the wall.  Though the bed
was positioned perpendicular to the window, the two individuals on
the bed were not.  A naked girl, mid to late teens, was laying on the
bed, her legs spread wide.  Laying atop her, between her legs was an
equally naked man, his hips pumping rhythmically into her supine form.
      
      Stacy watched them, her jaw dropping and her face heating. 
She'd heard about it from some friends, and of course when she'd
innocently asked in her youth where babies came from.  She felt some
warmth grow between her legs as she put together in her head the
hushed giggles from her friends, the hesitant half-answers from her
single father, and the now real physical act she was witnessing. 
These people were having sex.  
      
      She tried to crane her head, as if she could in someway see
around the bouncing naked man's butt to see him entering the girl. 
Her rapt attention, shocked expression, and attempts to see more
clearly did not go unnoticed by Evan, who was starting to reach his
limit in supporting her weight in his hands.
      
      "What's going on?  What do you see?" he asked.
      
      "N-naked people," she said, "they're..." She stopped talking
as the couple stopped their bouncing on the bed and the man stood up.
He turned slightly to the side and his erect penis swayed and bounced
into her view for the first time.  Stacy couldn't believe how big it
was.  Could they really get that big?  She vaguely recalled seeing
her dad's once, but remembered it as this little shriveled thing that
was near to his body and hung downwards.  In almost every way this
one was different, it was long, thick, and stuck up in the air away
from the body.  She saw it for barely a few seconds before the girl
sat up, took it in her hand, and put it into her mouth.
      
      If Stacy was shocked before, she was thoroughly grossed out
now.  That girl was putting that thing, in her mouth, after it had
been in her vagina only moments before?  Eww!
      
      "Eww!" Stacy said loudly, and the man turned his head towards
the window.  His eyes met Stacy's and what felt like an eternal
moment of terror occurred to her in the span of about 3 seconds
before she screamed.
      
      "Hey!  What the hell!" he yelled at the window as Stacy
panicked and lost her uneasy balance in Evan's hands, falling onto
her hands and knees on the muddy ground.  She heard the man continue
to yell, as the girl in the room started to voice her confusion on
what was going on.
      
      "What happened?" Evan asked as Stacy picked herself up off the
ground, mud staining her pink stockings.
      
      "Run!" she answered, and they took off for the wooded path
together.
      
      They were halfway to the muddy ditch when the glass door
opened, and the man, now wearing boxer shorts, rushed out onto the
cement patio and continued to yell at them to get off his property
and called them a few choice names.  There was little danger of him
actually being able to catch up and grab either of them, but both
kids were running as though that were the case.  Evan, being the
faster runner of the two, overtook Stacy, and leaped across the ditch
first, clearing it easily.  
      
      Stacy also tried to jump the ditch, but fell short with a
shriek, her shoes going into the water, and her knees hitting the
ground again.  She felt a jolt of pain as her shin hit a broken tree
branch that was laying on the ground.  She picked herself up and ran
after Evan who was still running ahead of her down the path and
around a turn out of sight of the angry man and the house.
      
      Feeling that he was out of danger of being caught, and no
longer able to hear the man yelling, Evan came to a stop and turned
around.  Stacy was a few yards behind him still running, but with a
limp now.  He looked at her legs and saw the pink stockings she wore
were muddy and torn where she had fallen on them.  There was also a
darker red spot on the left leg she was favoring.  "You're hurt!" he
said, rushing back to her.
      
      "I-I fell," she said, now wincing more as the adrenaline of
the chase wore off and she started to hop on one foot to keep her
weight off of her injured leg.  She felt tears start to come to her
eyes and she tried not to look at Evan so he wouldn't see.  He came
up alongside and took her arm and draped it across his shoulder and
put his across hers, and slid his hand under her arm.
      
      "C'mon," he said, supporting her.  "Let's go to my house and
take care of your leg."  She nodded her head and gave a quietly
whimpered assent, leaning against him and taking a tentative step
with her good leg.  His body felt so warm against her, and she felt a
swelling in her chest that both scared and comforted her in knowing
that he was there.  She felt so silly at the mix of emotions racing
around in her head: pain, fear, gratitude, shame, warmth, trust, l-
lo...  She almost couldn't think that last word, it felt so heavy to
her preteen mind, but somehow...somehow it was the one that felt
right to her, and that just made it seem all the more embarrassing
that he was seeing tears roll down her cheeks as they hobbled
together to his empty house.
      
      There was little said between them the rest of the way to
Evan's home, save for him asking if she hurt anywhere else.  She
didn't of course, and really, she thought she could probably walk on
her own the rest of the way after 5 minutes, but it felt too good
being close to and relying on him like this.  
      
      The silence between them also provided Stacy a little time to
think about what she had seen.  She felt the same warming feeling
grow between her legs when she thought about it that she had felt
watching it live.  She wondered what that felt like to be done to
her.  She was sure it must hurt to have something that size being
thrust like that inside her, but the girl had sounded like she really
liked it.  A light breeze drifted against her face and she realized
it had grown hot and wondered if Evan had noticed the blush on her
cheeks.  How could she possibly explain any of it to him, she knew he
was going to ask.
      
      When they finally reached his house, Stacy felt cold and alone
again when they untwined their arms from each other's shoulders.  She
wanted to hug him, press herself to him, just to feel him close like
they had been for what seemed like forever.  She attempted to hop on
one foot through the door once he had it unlocked and opened, but was
surprised when he took her hand and saw to it that she got safely
inside.  They'd held hands before, but that was when they were little
and it didn't mean anything then...n-not that it meant anything now. 
Oh how her head buzzed from it all.
      
      He took her to the couch, where she sat and rested for the
first time since standing on his hands.  First her soaked shoes came
off, and she felt like a little kid letting him do all this for her. 
Next came the soggy socks she wore over the stockings in an attempt
to keep her feet warm while they had walked.  Fat chance of that with
how wet they were.  A puzzled look spread over his face while he
looked at her injured leg.
      
      "Uh...could you take them off?  I can't really see where
you're hurt," he said, looking embarrassed.
      
      "Huh?"
      
      "Your tights" he clarified, blushing.  Stacy blushed too.  She
couldn't very well ask him to take them off for her.  That would
require hands under her skirt, and that reminded her again of what
got them into this situation in the first place.  "I'm going to get
the first aid kit, so you can..." he said, getting up and leaving the
room.
      
      She couldn't help feeling a little risque as she reached up
under her skirt and shifted from side to side working her tights off
her hips and bottom.  She was all alone with a boy in a house and she
was undressing herself.  No no no, this was Evan, it was okay, there
was nothing to feel naughty about.  It's not like they were going to
do anything like...  She felt that warmth again in her panties and
wondered if she was always going to react like this to those
memories.  Was this what being slutty was like?  She was sure that's
what other girls would call her if they knew she was feeling funny
between her legs.  It felt a little scary to think that way, but if
they never found out, maybe it wouldn't be so bad...
      
      Evan took a moment to compose himself now in the solitude of
the bathroom.  His dick was stiff in his pants and he hoped, oh god,
how he hoped Stacy hadn't noticed.  He'd seen up her skirt twice now
in the last 10 minutes.  First had been when he'd lifted her up to
look in the window, and then he'd seen again just now when he'd taken
off her shoes and socks.  She'd been wearing stockings, so it wasn't
a clear view he'd had of her panties, but still he'd seen them.  
      
      That though, was not the reason he'd gotten excited in the
first place.  He had known what those sounds were already when he'd
first heard them.  His mother had been single since he was young, and
it had been only a few years ago when one of her few long-term
boyfriends had spent the night and Evan had awoken to noises.  He'd
followed the source of the noises to his mother's bedroom and
witnessed what he didn't fully understand until just a few months
before now.  
      
      Now he was filled with guilt that he'd practically forced
Stacy to see something similar, or so he'd figured based on her
reaction there at the window.  Not only that, she'd gotten hurt,
scared, and her clothes had gotten dirty, all because of him.  He was
doing his best to take responsibility for that, helping her to walk
to his house and now in treating her wounds, and maybe it was a huge
overreaction on his part towards some minor scrapes...on her nice
swimming toned legs, but he really didn't feel worthy now to have had
her so close to him.  
      
      Her body, the same body he'd seen so many times in a skintight
swimsuit, had been pressed up to his, and he could still smell the
chlorine in her hair from the pool before they'd walked home.  He
closed his hand into a fist.  Her hand had been in it when he'd
helped her inside the house.  He'd placed his hand on her body when
he'd helped her walk.  Though she'd worn a rather bulky coat, he may
have been touching her breast...not that she had them yet.  He felt a
twitch in his stiff dick, something he'd only felt before looking at
those pictures on the computer that he knew his mom would flip if she
knew he was looking at them.  He was getting those same feelings now,
but this time they were about Stacy, and she'd probably hate him if
she knew.
      
      Stacy had been deep in thought about the events of the last 15
minutes.  So deep in reflection and contemplation of that couple, and
Evan, and these new feelings, that she was actually startled by Evan
when he came back with the little white box with a red cross on it. 
He sat on the floor at her bare feet, and seemed to rather expertly
go about cleaning her leg scrapes with a cotton swab and some rubbing
alcohol.
      
      "How do you know how to do this?"
      
      "I was in the Boy Scouts for a little bit, remember?"  She
did.  She'd made fun of him for the uniform when he wore it to her
8th birthday party.  He'd been the only boy there.
      
      "Oh...right."  The alcohol stung as he attended to her, and
though she grimaced at it, there was a tenderness in how he cared for
her that tempered it.  That, and she found that she liked it when he
touched her legs.
      
      They were white.  White with some kind of pattern on them,
like dots or maybe little flowers.  Evan wondered if he should say
something that they were showing.  He didn't want to embarrass her,
or make her think that he was looking, but he felt bad peeping from
this particular vantage point with her so vulnerable and in his care.
      
      "H-here," he said, handing her the first-aid kit. She placed
it on her lap, and the view was gone, something which he quickly was
relieved by, and also regretted.  Her injuries were of course, only
skin deep, so he placed a large butterfly bandage on the largest
scrape, and a few smaller band-aids on other places down her leg. 
"Can you stand?" he asked her, and she set the kit aside and stood,
at first gingerly, but she could put her full weight on her foot,
though she limped a bit when she took some steps.
      
      "It hurts a little," she said, "but it's ok."  There was an
awkward silence between them.  Neither wanted to be the first to say
anything about the window, and the matter of her being injured had
been pretty much addressed, so they both found themselves without
words and some strange new feelings fluttering about in their
bellies.  The sudden ringing of the phone scared them both.
      
      "That's probably my mom," Evan said, and went to the kitchen
to answer it.  Stacy went back to the couch and looked at her torn
tights and soaked socks.  She could always borrow some socks from
Evan before she went home, but her tights were practically ruined. 
They were wet, muddy, torn, and stained with some blood.  She sighed,
knowing she'd have to lie to her dad about how they got ruined and
what had happened to her leg.  She sure couldn't tell him the truth.  
      
      Evan came back from the kitchen, his cheeks red.  That had
been his mom on the phone.  She said she'd be home late, and a glance
at the calendar told Evan why.  There was a man's name on it.  He
couldn't shake the idea that she might do those things with this new
man, particularly given everything that had happened today.  To make
matters worse, when he'd told her that Stacy was over, she'd jokingly
asked if she was his girlfriend.  His emphatic denial had just made
her laugh before she made some strange warning to him to be good. 
'As if I'd be bad,' he thought, but it was seeing Stacy, sitting on
the couch, her ruined tights in her hands, that made him realize what
she might have been getting at.
      
      "Do, uh...do you wanna play that game now?" he asked, getting
them back to the original plan of action for this visit.  Stacy
smiled, which made Evan smile, which made Stacy...well, they were
both grinning like idiots, but it took their minds off all the rest.
      
      "Yeah.  I'll prove to you that I'm right," she said, that
bossy edge finding it's way back into her voice that had been feeling
so small.
      
      "Whatever.  You're gonna die, just like I did, and then you're
gonna see how completely unfair that game is," Even said as he
switched on the game console and sat on the carpet in front of the
TV.  He held up the controller for her, and Stacy came over to join
him.
      
      "Ugh, whatever!  No, I'm not.  Boys are so dumb," she scoffed,
taking the offered game pad and sitting down next to him.
      
      In less than 5 minutes, Stacy was holding her arms in the air,
victorious.
      
      "Ohhhhhhh yeaaaaaaah!  What do you think about that?!" she
taunted Evan.  This was all part of her competitive nature, and was
nothing Evan hadn't already witnessed several times before.
      
      "Fine, jeez, you were right.  Don't have to be so mean about
it," he grumbled, resetting the game to the save point to try it
himself.
      
      Thirty minutes later, he was ready to throw the controller
through the TV screen.
      
      "Why can't I do this!" he yelled, which seemed to just
encourage Stacy to taunt him a little more.
      
      "Oh yeah, girl power!" she crowed, earning her a glowering
look from Evan.
      
      "You're not better at this just because you're a girl, you
know."
      
      "Yeah, well, I'm better at it than you are, so nyah!" and with
that she put her face up close to his and wrinkled her nose and
pursed her lips.
      
      Evan didn't know why he did what happened next, but it stopped
Stacy in her tracks.  Until this moment it had been a tender feeling
that they'd only shared affectionately with either their parents or
grandparents, and even then usually was targeted on an offered cheek
or done entirely playfully.  They'd certainly never done it with each
other before.
      
      Though it lasted only seconds, the preteens both felt like
minutes had passed with their lips touching.  Stacy, who nearly
recoiled in surprise from the feeling of Evan's mouth on hers,
ironically felt like she'd frozen into place like a stone statue. 
Evan, despite initiating the kiss, was similarly stunned by the soft
sensation of the young girl's lips against his, and it was only the
involuntary act of breathing that first heavy passionate breath that
caused him to back off.  They both looked into each other's eyes, an
act still too intimate for either of them to handle, and looking
away, they moved about three feet apart, with only the music of the
video game making any noise in the room.
      
      "S-sorry," Evan said, his eyes on the floor.  Stacy had raised
her hand to her mouth, her fingers feeling her lips, like she could
touch the all too brief sensation she'd just felt back into where it
had been.
      
      "W-why did you..." she asked, clearly a little stunned by her
first kiss.
      
      "I dunno...you were just there all of a sudden, and your lips
were close, so...sorry..."
      
      Stacy's head felt like it was spinning, and her cheeks were
like fire.  It felt like her body was shaking with every beat of her
pounding heart, and the itch in her panties from before was begging
for a little scratch.  She shifted a bit, sitting atop her foot to
sate that for now, but there was a different feeling she wanted to
experience at the other end of her body at that moment.  "C-can we
try again?" she asked through buzzing lips.
      
      "Sure," Evan said, almost too simply.  So simply that it
shocked Stacy that he was taking it so lightly.  Then she saw him
fiddling with his game controller and starting the attempted game
move over again.
      
      "N-no!  Not the game, stupid!" Stacy nearly yelled at him in
anger.  Then quieter, "I meant the kiss..."
      
      "O-oh...um...ok."  Despite the agreement, neither of them
moved an inch at first, expecting the other to make the first move. 
They looked at each other in anticipation, and away again when they
saw the other looking at them.  "S-so...do it again," Evan said
finally.
      
      "Huh?"
      
      "W-what you did the first time...do it again so I can..." 
Evan couldn't believe she was calling him stupid when she was the one
who wanted to do it again and couldn't even do her part.  He glanced
to the side at her, and saw her crawl on her hands and knees towards
him.  When she was close enough, she shut her eyes tightly, and,
almost comically puckered up as though she was parodying what had
happened just moments before.  Evan couldn't help himself and laughed
right in her face.  "HAHA!  You look like a fish like that!" he
mocked.  Stacy frowned and slugged him in the shoulder for it.
      
      "You're a butt," she pouted, and scooted away from him,
sitting down in a huff.  She felt like crying, which just made her
feel ridiculous, because it was just Evan, and it's not like he was
special or anything...she just wanted to try that kiss again...with
him.  "I was just doing what you said."
      
      "I know, I know," he said, rubbing the shoulder where she had
hit him while still chuckling.  "You just looked so silly doing that
with your lips."  His shoulder was her favorite punching bag, but it
was never hit as hard as it was this time.  He glanced at her face,
and though he knew that some of the sulking look she had on was for
show, there seemed to be some real hurt there as well.  When she
rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand though, a deep pang of
regret burrowed deep in his stomach.  "Sorry, Stace."
      
      Stacy managed to keep the tears at bay.  She knew he was
right, and she probably did look really silly.  It wasn't her fault. 
She'd never kissed a boy before...well, not a serious for reals kiss
anyways.  She thought again about the two people she saw having sex. 
Did they kiss each other?  Of course they had, hadn't they?  That was
part of it, part of doing...that with each other.  If Evan couldn't
even kiss her right, then she certainly wouldn't be doing that with
him...wait, what?  What?!
      
      Where had that idea come from?  Doing sex things with Evan? 
No way, no no no no no!  She glanced over at him; he had started to
play the game again.  It's not like he wasn't cute or anything, and
he wasn't like, super gross or a butthead...and honestly...to tell
the truth...she kind of...kind of really liked him.  There it was. 
Stacy pulled her knees up to her chest, hugged them with her arms,
buried her face into the little space it made, and hoped to God that
Evan wouldn't see the huge grin that she could not get off of her
face.
      
      Four feet away, Evan had taken notice of his friend's shifting
body language.  Still worried that he'd really hurt her feelings, he
wondered if she was sitting like that so that she could cry a bit
without him seeing.  She didn't do that often, crying, that is. 
They'd known each other since kindergarten, and Evan could count on
one hand the number of times he'd seen tears rolling down her cheeks.
He felt so helpless and awkward being in the same room as her and
also being the reason for her discomfort.
      
      His eyes tracked downward as he was looking away with the
intent to look back to the TV, and his attention was captured by a
flash of white near her exposed thigh.  If she had been wearing her
pink tights, he might not have noticed at all, but the way she was
sitting, with her knees pointing upward, pushing her skirt away from
how it should have fallen to cover her hips, Evan was now being
treated to a glimpse of her panties doing their job and covering
between Stacy's legs.  She started to slide her feet forward, and her
thighs rotated forward, ending the peepshow and Evan looked up to see
if he had been caught eyeing the proverbial cookie jar.
      
      "Bathroom," Stacy said, getting to her feet.  She didn't dare
look at him or else she was sure to smile like a dope, and it took
all she had to force it off her face just so she could look up for
that brief moment Evan might have been able to see it.  She was also
afraid that if they had made eye contact, she might give away that
she wasn't needing to use the bathroom for its usual purpose. 
Instead that itch she'd been experiencing between her legs today
seemed to have gotten more intense once she entertained the thought
of her and Evan getting intimate with each other.
      
      As soon as the door was locked, Stacy had her panties down and
was discovering a slippery fluid was starting to seep from her
hairless lips.  She rubbed it between her fingers for a few seconds,
both marveling at it and being a little weirded out by it.  She had
sometimes overheard some of the older girls whose swim practice
coincided with her own talking in the locker room.  They had been
talking about kissing their boyfriends and one of them had said
something about 'getting wet down there.'  It had been nothing but
confusing for Stacy to hear at the time, and the two older girls had
stopped talking once they noticed that Stacy had been listening in. 
Now, however, Stacy had her own frame of reference she could review
that conversation from, and she realized that this was what 'getting
wet down there' meant.
      
      But...what did it really mean anyways?  She put her index
finger down to her lips and slid it from the back to front along the
closed mouth they made between her legs.  She shivered as a nice
feeling presented itself to her.  She rubbed a little more and gasped
in surprise.  That felt really good!  She thought back to the scene
she'd watched through the window, particularly the girl on her back
while that guy had been sticking his thing in her.  She'd really
liked it, and had even been saying 'yes' while it was happening.  Was
this what sex felt like?  What if sex felt better than just touching
herself?  She didn't think those people she saw were married or
anything, so they couldn't have been doing it to make a baby, right? 
Were they just doing it to feel good?  Would doing it with Evan feel
good?
      
      A moan escaped Stacy's lips as she rubbed her pussy thinking
about just that.  Evan putting his thing in her, and it feeling good.
She found a spot where rubbing herself felt really good...oh wow, did
it ever feel good!  Once again, she wondered if she was becoming
slutty by doing this.  She knew that label had something to do with
boys and girls touching their private places or something, and that
it was bad to be a slut...but this just felt so good, it was like she
could get addicted to it or something.  If she could do this with
Evan and never let anybody know about it...well, that wouldn't be so
bad, right?  A slight chill of excited fear rushed through her as she
contemplated that.  It meant she'd have to let him touch her there,
and that was pretty embarrassing just thinking about.  What if he
wanted to see her there too?  It kind of scared her, but in a really
confusing good way that made no sense, and she suddenly felt like
kind of a bad girl and ashamed of her thoughts.  She grabbed a tissue
to wipe the wetness away, pulled her panties up, and went back out to
where Evan was.
      
      Evan was glad for Stacy's absence, as it gave him an
opportunity to stick his hand down his pants and put his hard dick in
a more comfortable position and angle.  'It was all her fault,' he
told himself again.  If she would just wear pants when it was cold
outside like today, and why'd she go and fall in that ditch anyways
and hurt herself?  She was a swimmer, and more of an athlete than he
was.  She should have easily jumped across like he did.  "Dumb girl,"
he muttered quietly to himself, withdrawing his hand from his pants,
and started the game up again to try and replicate her victory.
      
      He heard the bathroom door open, and he wondered why there was
no toilet flushing noise.  Had she been crying in there so he
wouldn't see?  Crying because he had made fun of her face when she
had wanted to kiss?  Guilt again.  He glanced up when she walked back
into the room.  She didn't look sad, though her face seemed a little
flushed.  She sat on the floor again, though more appropriately for
her manner of dress this time.  The controller rattled in his hand,
and he turned his attention back to the screen just in time to see
himself die yet again.  "Damn it," he swore, making her giggle a
little.  The sound of that made him smile.  "Hey," he said, and she
turned to look at him.  "I'm sorry.  I really wasn't trying to make
you mad or anything when I laughed.  I deserved it when you hit me
for it."
      
      "Did it hurt?" she asked him.
      
      "Yeah.  You hit really hard that time," he said, rolling up
his shirt sleeve to show her his upper arm, which was still red. 
"Might turn into a bruise."
      
      "Oh, sorry...but like you said, you totally deserved it!" she
said making a fist and shaking it in mock threat.  She was smiling
though, smiling right at him, the type of which said that all was
forgiven and forgotten.  She got up from her distant spot on the
floor and knelt down next to him, and took his arm in her hands. 
Stacy lifted the red spot to her lips and kissed it.  She turned her
eyes up to meet his, and grinned shyly.  Evan didn't try to stop her
or pull his arm away.  He could only smile too.
      
      "I promise I won't laugh again," he told her.
      
      "Even if I look silly again?"
      
      "Y-you're too pretty to look silly," he said, feeling his
whole body tremble as he gave the compliment.  He watched her eyes
get big, and that shy little smile broaden as she lifted her chin and
leaned towards him.
      
      She felt warm all over.  Warm and shaky and excited and scared
and her head just felt like it was going to fall off her shoulders
and float up into the air.  His face came closer and closer and
closer and she closed her eyes and the feeling returned to her lips. 
It was so...so...so...she couldn't find words for it beyond something
as simple as 'good.'  It wasn't sudden and didn't take her by
surprise, so she took enjoyment from this kiss that just hadn't been
there the first time.  She felt weightless, bodiless (except for her
lips), and it was almost like she was tumbling face first against
Evan's lips.  Hands were suddenly on her upper arms, and her eyes
popped open.  A look of surprise was on the boy's face in front of
her and a split second later she realized why as he fell backwards
and she was on top of him, lips still locked.  "Wha-"
      
      "Y-you kind of pushed me over," he said, as she pulled away to
sit on her heels.
      
      "S-sorry," she said, straightening up, and pulling her hair
back.  "I-I really pushed you over?"
      
      "Yeah," Evan said, sitting up.  "You just...your lips...you
were pressing really hard, and so..."

      
      "Oh..." she answered, and turned away, embarrassed, but
grinning.  "I guess...I really liked it."  She felt that itch tingle
between her legs again, and she wanted to excuse herself to the
bathroom again to rub and see if it had gotten wet again, although
with a shift of her legs, she could tell that it had.
      
      To Evan, Stacy looked really uncomfortable as she wiggled
around a little beside him.  He saw her face was flushed again, and
he wondered if she felt alright.  He raised his hand and put it to
her forehead.  "You're warm," he told her, which just seemed to
fluster her more.
      
      "W-well, yeah, I-I...we were just kissing and so...it's
embarrassing, you know?"  She raised her hand and put it to his
forehead as well.  "You're warm too, so..."  Evan grinned a dopey
grin, which quickly caught on and Stacy grinned as well.  They both
laughed.  "Now you look silly," Stacy pointed out.
      
      "Yeah, so do you," Evan retorted.  Their laughter subsided and
they sat smiling awkwardly at each other for a silent moment.  He
recalled his mother's voice on the phone, and how she teased him a
bit.  'Girlfriend,' she had said about Stacy.  He felt embarrassed
again by her joking accusation, but something told him that maybe she
was right.  "So, uh...I guess you're my g-girlfriend now," he
suggested, voice catching on the most important word in that sentence.
      
      "Wha-what do you mean?!" Stacy asked, having a different idea
of what a girlfriend was in her head thanks to the swim locker room
gossips and hushed story telling.  "W-we only kissed like, um...t-
twice?  That's not like, 'g-girlfriend' stuff."  She honestly
couldn't remember.  The whole experience was just one massive
exciting blur in her head.  Though she sounded shocked by his
suggestion, she also thought it would be really cool if it was true. 
"Do you want me to be your girlfriend?"  A sudden fear struck her as
soon as she asked.  What if he said no?  She could already feel tears
welling up.  Her emotions felt like they were all over the place.
      
      Evan wondered if he had said something wrong.  Wasn't kissing
something boyfriends and girlfriends did?  Was there more to it than
that?  He knew what he'd seen and heard his mom doing with those men,
but most of them weren't ever her boyfriends, which was kind of
confusing.  Why did Stacy suddenly look sad?  Did she think he wanted
to do things to her?  She saw two people doing that together, right? 
"I, um, I-I don't mean like, uh..." he sputtered, looking for the
right words.  Why did she look really sad all of a sudden?!  "W-we
don't have to-"
      
      "You're so dumb, I HATE YOU!" she yelled at him, tears falling
from her cheeks and she ran into the bathroom and slammed the door
closed.  Evan had no idea what just happened.
      
      Door locked behind her, and she put her back against it and
slid down to sit on the floor, crying.  She felt so stupid.  Evan
couldn't possibly like her like that.  She knew she could get pretty
bossy with him, and boys never liked bossy girls.  He'd called her
pretty only a few minutes ago, but she didn't think she was pretty at
all.  He only said that to trick her into kissing him again.  She'd
heard about that in the locker room too.  So many girls who said boys
only said those things so they could do...things.  He kissed her.  He
started it.  What did he want next?  Touching her body?  Would he
make fun of that too?  She didn't have any boobs at all, and there
wasn't any hair down there like the grown up girls had.  He'd just
make fun of her again if he saw.  She felt so dumb for liking him all
of a sudden.  Dumb boy.  Dumb stupid pervert boy!  She cried harder.
      
      Evan felt absolutely lost.  Something went wrong.  Something
made Stacy cry.  It was his fault?  She was really upset by what he
had said, but he hadn't said anything!  He liked the kissing and he
couldn't even imagine kissing anybody else but her, but she didn't
think that made them boyfriend and girlfriend?  Girls hated when boys
got gross about dick and pussy stuff, and he wasn't thinking about
that kind of thing at all, and he was going to tell her that, but she
got mad at him for like no reason before he could say so!  Girls were
so strange.
      
      He looked around the room aimlessly, as though he might see a
solution somewhere to the problem involving the crying girl in his
bathroom.  There was nothing, no easy answer for him.  The 'Game
Over' screen on the TV seemed to be mocking his situation.  He got up
and switched it off, the room becoming bathed in a blue light from
the TV's standby screen.  Sad.  He felt sad, and for no reason other
than she was sad.  Of course he wanted her to be his girlfriend.  He
really felt that way now, even if he didn't 10 minutes ago.  She had
asked, but didn't get an answer before she freaked out.  He could at
least give her that now.
      
      The only sound in the house was that of her quiet whimpering
on the other side of the bathroom door.  He still had his shoes on,
and they seemed very loud when he stepped onto the hard wood floor of
the hall.  He stood in front of the door a moment to listen.  She no
doubt had heard his footsteps right there, and he strained to hear
any noise she might make.  "Stacy?" he asked the door.  She didn't
answer, aside from a sniffle, but he decided to say it anyways.  "I l-
like you, a-and I...I really hope you don't hate me, because I want
you to be my girlfriend, y-you know, if you want to be mine."  More
silence, but he knew she had heard unless she had been covering her
ears.  A minute passed...another...and he didn't know what to do. 
Maybe she was too embarrassed and didn't want to see him now.  He
looked at the clock; it was almost 5 p.m. and he knew she had to be
home by 6.  She couldn't hide in there forever, but he also didn't
want to make her feel trapped by him standing there.  He turned and
walked down the hall to his bedroom, his shoes telling her that he
had left.
      
      Stacy hugged her knees close to her chest and didn't know what
to do.  He liked her?  He wanted her to be his girlfriend?  Her heart
was racing and her body felt warm, like when they had kissed, but
this was so...filling.  Yes, she felt absolutely full of warmth, and
every time she thought about what he said, the sound of his voice,
the sincerity of it, she just felt warmer and warmer
with...something.  Love?  Was this what it felt like to be in love? 
She knew she loved her dad, and she loved swimming, and she loved
being better at video games than Evan, and she loved how kissing made
her feel, but...this felt so different than all that other stuff. 
They had been friends for, like, ever!  Six years!  That was a long
time for an 11-year old.  She liked him, of course, but love...
      
      She heard his footsteps leaving down the hall towards his
room.  Why did he leave?  Was he mad at her now?  He hadn't sounded
mad at all...just sad.  She didn't want him to be sad.  It hurt to
even think that he might be sad, but what could she do about it?  She
remembered what she had yelled at him, and felt tears come to her
eyes again.  She felt so stupid.  Of course he was sad.  She'd feel
sad if he yelled that at her.  She didn't even know why she yelled
that at him.  Was this what "mood swings" were like?  She remembered
her dad making some joke about those a few months ago when she'd
gotten angry at him for...what had she gotten angry about?  She
couldn't remember, but it felt like it had been something really dumb.
      
      It was so quiet now that her tears had stopped and Evan wasn't
speaking to her from the other side of the door.  Only the ticking
sound of the clock on the wall kept Stacy and her thoughts company. 
It also reminded her that she couldn't stay in the bathroom forever. 
The sky out the window was starting to darken, and the short hand on
the clock was creeping towards 5.  She went to the mirror and looked
at herself.  Emotional and silly looked back at her.  She wiped at
her wet cheeks and blew her nose.  She had to go out there, so she
might as well look as normal as possible just in case Evan was out
there.
      
      He wasn't.  Stacy looked left and right down the hall, as if
she were in danger of being run over by some unseen force.  That was
silly of course, and just made her feel a little foolish for being so
paranoid.  There were her shoes and torn tights where she had taken
them off at the couch where Evan had tended to her wounds.  She
smiled at the memory.  He had been so nice.  So gentle and attentive.
Her leg still ached a little and stung where she had been scraped. 
The air was going to be cold on her bare legs on her walk home. 
Maybe she should ask if she could borrow a pair of Evan's jeans, just
to walk home in.
      
      Evan lay on his bed, back to the door.  'Why did I kiss her?'
he thought to himself.  'It's all because I kissed her.  I kissed her
and said strange things, and now she hates me.'  He closed his eyes
and thought about that kiss, and the ones that followed.  Were they
worth it?  He just didn't know.  If she hated him, then no, but if
she didn't...yes.  Absolutely yes.  He remembered her smell of
chlorine that still clung to her hair as he got close to her.  The
softness of her lips, and how they still felt soft, no matter how
hard she pressed them against his.  Her body against him as they fell
back...her bare thighs and how they looked when she sat with her
knees pulled up to her chest...her panties when he was bandaging her.
His dick was hard again.  Boners were a sex thing of course, but
Stacy...she wasn't...sexy?  Not like some of the older girls at her
swim practices.  They were sexy, and Stacy was...well, she was Stacy,
but still, he had a boner, so...she was too?
      
      "Um, Evan?"
      
      He rolled over onto his back to look at the door, where Stacy
stood, hands held in front of her, looking nervous.  "What is it?" he
asked her, wondering why she didn't just leave.  Was she going to
apologize?
      
      "My tights, they got ripped, so I was wondering if, maybe, I
could borrow some jeans to wear home?  You know, so I don't get
cold?"  Her eyes stayed cast downward.  It was just too awkward to
look at him except in small glances that made her nervous even in
that instant.
      
      "S-sure, I guess."  He got up from his bed and went to his
dresser.  He pulled out a pair and turned to see her now a few steps
into the room.  He walked over and handed them to her.
      
      "Th-thanks," she said, and took them, retreating to the
bathroom to change.  Less than a minute later, she was back with the
pants in her hands.  "They didn't fit."  The next 3 pairs of jeans
didn't fit either.  They were either too short on her lengthening
legs or too loose around the waist.
      
      "How about these?" he asked, offering her some black
sweatpants.  He turned his back to her, as after the 2nd failed pair
of jeans, she figured she might as well just change in his room
instead of scurrying back and forth between his bedroom and the
bathroom.  She pulled them up with her skirt still on, and though
they too felt a little short, she also didn't want to complain with
him being so accommodating like this.
      
      "These will work," she stated, and Evan turned around to see
her unzipping her skirt and sliding it down her legs.  His boner had
gone away while he was focused on finding her some pants, but
strangely this act of very modest undressing called it back to life. 
She sat down on the edge of his bed and slipped it off her feet.  A
moment went by, and she did not stand up to leave like Evan expected
she would.  She fidgeted with her hands in her lap, and before he
could ask if something was wrong, she spoke.  "Do you love me?"
      
      "I...I don't know," Evan stated honestly, but afraid Stacy
would be mad.  "Do you love me?" he asked in return.
      
      "I don't...I don't know.  M-maybe?" she said, looking up at
him just for a moment, then back at her hands in her lap.  "I
guess...I guess it's sort of different now that we kissed."
      
      "Y-yeah...I kinda feel different too," he agreed, and then
quickly added, "W-we could try the boyfriend-girlfriend thing if you
want to, b-but I...I don't know what it's like to do that so..."
      
      "Me neither," she said, smiling, then feeling her cheeks flush
hot when she thought about the couple in the house, naked and doing
that.  Those two really were boyfriend and girlfriend, she thought. 
She glanced up at Evan, her eyes lingering momentarily on the front
of his pants.  She'd never seen Evan's, though he'd once seen her
naked from the waist down by complete accident.  She rose up slowly
from the bed and slowly stepped towards him.  She raised her head and
met his eyes, making both of them grin and look away, which they both
found funny and laughed together.  "It feels funny to look at you,"
she admitted.
      
      "I-I know, me too.  It's like...like I get really embarrassed."
      
      "Yeah...b-but...that's dumb, right?"
      
      "Yeah."  Evan agreed with her, and then decided that this was
something he was going to have to face if he was really going to be
her boyfriend.  Stacy had the same thought, and the two both turned
their heads to face each other again, and held their gaze on each
other's face despite the burning each felt in their cheeks and the
butterflies in their respective stomachs.  "G-guess we're not gonna
be dumb anymore."  Stacy could only smile and shake her head in
agreement with that.
      
      "I won't look away anymore," she told him, her hands finding
his.  The sensation of fingers spreading and interlacing with the
other's fingers sent shivers up their respective spines.  A desire
struck them both, as though it were being shared between their young
minds through their hands, and their lips came together.  Neither
pressed more firmly than the other, and neither did either of them
make a move to push the other away...although Evan did feel the need
to take a breath far sooner than Stacy, as her increased lung
capacity from swimming provided an edge in this regard.  
      
      He gasped against her lips when he could take it no more, not
only drawing air with his mouth but also with his nose, smelling her
so close to him.  Scents of shampoo, chlorine, sweat, tears, breath,
and something else that he could not name came together to make
something that was uniquely Stacy.  "Y-you smell good," he said,
causing her to giggle.
      
      "I do?"
      
      "Y-yeah...sorry, that's weird," he apologized, not even sure
why he said such a thing.  Stacy closed her eyes and sniffed at him.
      
      "You...you don't really smell like anything," she responded,
perhaps a little disappointed she could not make a similar statement
about Evan.  She sniffed again, and could hear him doing the same
back at her.  They were both so wrapped up in their senses of smell
that the chiming of the living room clock on the hour startled them
both.  "I-I should go," Stacy said.
      
      "Yeah, I guess," Evan agreed, but did not make an effort to
untangle his fingers from hers.  Instead he just kissed her again, a
quick peck on her lips.  And then she him.  And he her again.  Then
their hands did come apart, only to wrap around the other's body as
they pressed firmly against each other and futilely, but eagerly,
attempted to fuse their lips into a single body part shared between
them.  
      
      Very quickly, however, Stacy became aware of a body part that
was not shared between them and was pressing against her thigh where
it met her pelvis.  Her eyes shot open as her mind quickly brought
forth the memory of seeing the man's blood swollen organ, and she
pulled away from Evan in stunned, but oddly flattered, surprise.
      
      Evan could feel it too, no doubt better than Stacy could. 
There was a pleasing pulsing feeling running the length of it, and it
increased in intensity every time he pressed it against her,
stimulating the underside of the head.  His hips involuntarily moved
to accomplish that goal, and before he knew it, Stacy had backed away
from him.
      
      "I-I should go," she said once again, looking at his face, and
then at his pants, and then away when her eyes confirmed what her
body had felt making nearly intimate contact with her.  It was scary
and exciting all at once, and she had this urge to spread her legs
and let him rub that part of him against that part of her, but it was
just too much for her and she turned and left him in his room.
      
      There was no explanation given for why he had been left so
suddenly, but Evan knew why.  He wanted to run and hide too.  How
could he face her at school the next day after rubbing his dick on
her like that?  It had felt great for him, better than anything he'd
ever felt before, but Stacy couldn't know that.  She'd think he was
gross, and wouldn't want to be his girlfriend anymore.  He heard the
front door open and close, and he was alone in the house.  He sighed,
mad at himself or doing that...not that he did it on purpose, but
would she believe that?  He didn't know.  
      
      An object on the floor caught his eye.  He didn't know what
the crumpled ring of fabric was right away, but as he reached for it
he realized it was her skirt.  It felt strange for him to hold it,
almost like he was holding a pair of her underwear, but that was
dumb, they were entirely different kinds of clothing...still, he'd
looked under it twice that afternoon and tried to look a third time
when she had been sitting on the floor in the living room.  He held
it up and looked through the hole where her waist would normally be
and was quickly ashamed and embarrassed by pretending to look at her
panties.  He tossed it onto his bed, deciding to give it back to her
at school tomorrow.
      
      Going out into the rest of the empty house, he found another
artifact of that afternoon: her torn tights.  She had left those
behind as well in her haste to leave.  A thought entered his mind, an
idea related to the fact that these had been even more closely in
contact with that place on her body, but he just chastised himself
again and took them back to his room where he put them with the
skirt.  Tomorrow at school he'd return both of them to her.  She was
his girlfriend now...still...he hoped.
      
      Stacy was halfway down the wooded path when she remembered the
forgotten clothing.  It was dumb, but she felt almost naked at the
realization that she had left half her clothing behind.  She didn't
feel cold at least.  The skirt and tights had been chilly to wear,
but she thought she looked really cute in them, and Evan...well, he
seemed to like looking at her legs.  She'd noticed him staring at her
in the living room.  She giggled at that.  He had been looking at her
body, and he wanted to keep kissing her, and then she felt it rubbing
on her.  She clapped her hands to her mouth and giggled crazily to
herself.  What if she had stayed a little longer?  She'd overheard
things in the locker room about "jobs" that had something to do with
a boy's thing.  Would she have given a job to it?  What was a job,
anyways?
      
      She didn't realize she had reached the spot on the trail
behind the house until she had already passed it.  She turned and
looked at it longingly.  What she'd seen there that afternoon had
changed her, she felt.  Evan was right when he had said that he'd
felt different, because she had felt different too, starting with the
moment she'd seen those people having sex.  She realized she
shouldn't have looked, and she shouldn't have let Evan talk her into
it, but she wanted to precisely because he had said to do it.  She
was glad at least that he had been with her.  If anything, it had
made it more special.
      
      That night, Evan lay in bed, reflecting on everything that had
happened.  When his mom had gotten home, he'd told her only that
Stacy had been there and that he'd taken care of a scrape she got
walking home, but said nothing of the kissing stuff.  She'd just
tease him more like she had on the phone.  He closed his eyes and
relived his memories of the physical events, the good stuff that had
happened.  
      
      His imagination enhanced the memories with another memory of
Stacy.  He'd gone to her house, must have been 2 years ago, during
the summer, and then the two of them were going to go to another
friend's house and play with a variety of water toys.  He'd arrived
already wearing his swim trunks and a t-shirt, and when Stacy's dad
had greeted him at the door, he let Evan go straight to her bedroom
where she was changing.  Her door had been wide open and he walked in
to see her fully nude and slipping on to her feet the boy-cut tankini
bottoms she was going to wear.  "Oh gosh," he'd exclaimed, seeing a
naked girl for the first time ever, his eyes zeroed onto the hairless
slit between her legs for the 2 or 3 seconds it was shown to him. 
Stacy's scream brought her dad running to see what was the matter,
and upon seeing the situation, Evan wound up waiting for Stacy on the
couch with all kinds of funny feelings.
      
      He slipped his hand into his underwear, and felt how thick his
dick was from those combined memories.  He stroked it, pretending he
was kissing Stacy again.  He thought about her skirt coming off, only
without those sweatpants he'd loaned her.  Panties weren't even
considered in this fantasy, only her naked childish pussy.  'Pussy,'
he thought again, and he felt himself throb.  'Pussy.  Stacy's pussy.
Stacy's pus-'  "Oh!" he gasped as the best feeling ever throbbed
through him and semen shot out, soaking his underwear.
      
      Stacy turned from side to side, restless.  So many things in
her mind not letting her fall asleep.  Those people having sex and
Evan's thing poking her during that last kiss they had.  She'd done
her best to not think about those things for the rest of the evening,
particularly once her dad got home, because she just knew he'd figure
everything out somehow, and she didn't want him knowing she'd seen
and done those things.  Now though, all alone in bed with only her
thoughts and no other distractions...  She felt funny between her
legs again.  Evan's thing had been poking her so close to there. 
That's where it was supposed to poke, she supposed.  If they had been
naked it probably would have gone in her.  "So bad," she chided
herself for having the thought, but then her mind called up the
people in the house again, the man doing exactly that to the girl. 
That feeling between her legs beckoned to her to touch it, to rub it,
to soothe it away.  "So bad," she said quietly to herself again, but
gave into the urge.
      
      
***This marks the end of current progress on friends, as of 25
February 2014.***
Current word count: 10,577
Current page count (in MS Word): 20