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From: hangten <an19164@anon.nymserver.com>
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Subject: "In the Backyards"
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@(C) 1997 Frederick T. - Free electronic distribution is enthusiastically
hoped for. If for profit, please make a contribution to the National
Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws (NORMAL).
Disclaimer: The following material is intended for adults only, that is
people over the age of consent in whatever country they happen to live. This
material consists of the fictional accounts of fictional character's sexual
experiences that are obviously pure fantasy. In other words: none of the
characters contract sexually transmitted diseases; nobody has bad breath;
nobody gets pregnant unless they want to; few of the characters have any
sexual inhibitions or hangups and if they do, they quickly lose them; everyone
always has an orgasm and all the people live happily ever after. Now, if you
already live this type of life, I kind of wonder what you're doing wasting
your time browsing through a.s.s. ? I doubt you're going to find much new
among the contributions. But on the other hand, if you're still searching for
this perfect world; you're probably as close to finding it here as anywhere
else. Remember though, we are all God's children and should treat each other
as such. It should go without saying; any resemblance between the characters
in this account and real people, either living or deceased, is purely
coincidental. And finally, if you would be offended by the fictional sexual
experiences and fantasies of fictional people then you are free to seek other
entertainment. As always e-mail your comments to the usual.
*** PROLOGUE ***
I'm sure we all, regardless of our circumstances, had some great times
while we were growing up. These are the times that you'll always remember as
you travel farther and farther from your roots and make your own life in this
world. We can't always be happy with our present circumstances but can always
look back at the good times we had as children. This is just one of the great
times I wish I had enjoyed back when I was growing up in the ol' neighborhood.
Hope you enjoy it !!
In the Backyards
A Backyard Adventure
by Frederick T.
With thanks to the founding fathers and the U.S. Constitution
The time between childhood and adulthood, often called adolescence, is a
difficult time. I found myself wandering that in between time during the
Summer of my 12th year. Too old to build sand castles but too young to spend
the day, hanging out at the beach. I would spend most afternoons delivering
newspapers so that I could buy my first surfboard but many mornings were spent
pretending to be Peter Pan, Davy Crockett or Zorro; living out my fantasies in
the neighborhood backyards. It was in one of the most scary backyards in the
neighborhood, that I found myself on that Summer morning when I first saw Elsa
naked. I had climbed up into a tree in her backyard; well, this tree wasn't
really in her backyard, it just hung over her backyard. I didn't know anyone
who had ever been in her backyard. I didn't know anyone who had ever been in
her house.
This very large tree shaded most of her backyard. The yard was overgrown
and not well kept. In some places the grass was waist high, well, it appeared
waist high. Nobody had ever measured it. Anyway, I was in the tree. She
appeared in what I guessed was her bedroom window. She didn't have a stitch
of clothing on. I was about 20 to 25 feet from the window and about eight
feet above the sill. I could look down into the room and see everything, her
tits, her ass and her pussy - she had plenty of hair on it. My dad says they
"escaped from Eastern Europe and the Russians." They speak English with a
strange accent and the daughter, Elsa, appears to be about fifteen, maybe
sixteen years old. She doesn't go to any school that any of us in the
neighborhood know about. She leaves real early every morning, about
six-thirty and doesn't get back until late at night.
I have not moved a muscle since she appeared in the window. She is
combing her long dark hair. I have got a great view of the side of her
breast. The nipple is hard in the cool air of the morning. Every other
stroke or so I can see the other breast and see that it's nipple is also hard.
Her lower stomach is covered with a pelt of dark, curly hair. The belly
button above her pubic triangle is a deep indentation in her stomach. Her
rear end is very prominent like the halves of a large fruit and looked so
smooth. I was disappointed when she turned her ass away from me and gave me a
full frontal view of her lovely nakedness. As I scanned my eyes from her dark
pubic patch to her apple size breasts and nipples I noticed that she had
stopped combing her hair and was staring right at me.
We were frozen, staring at each other, neither of us moving. She finally
breaks eye contact and closes the drapes. To say I was disappointed is an
understatement. The crotch of my jeans were tented with my desire - a real
morning boner, hard as stone and full of the cream that often drenches my
shorts during the night. I let my hardon subside and then climb down to the
ground.
For the next several days I can think about nothing but Elsa. Every
morning, I'm in the tree in her back yard but her drapes always remain closed.
I imagine what she looked like and always get a hardon, straining against my
jeans. Pure lust made me drop into her back yard. It was so easy, sneaking
up to her window. I pushed up and the window opened. Now this is real secret
agent shit. I listen for a long time, my hands shaking. There is not the
slightest sound coming from her room. I part the drapes. Her room is dark.
In the light coming from where I'm standing, I can make out her bed. The
sheets are rumpled. The bed has not been made. To the right of the bed is a
dresser and I can see one of her bras hanging from an open drawer. I'm in the
room and moving toward the dresser before I know it. I have the bra in my
hand; my other hand is in the drawer pulling out a pair of her panties. They
are soft and white. I put the panties to my nose - they are clean.
The arm that grabs me around the waist is much stronger than I am. I
struggle but don't make a sound. The man who has me is about my parent's age.
He doesn't let me down but walks out of the room with me. We are in a hall
way going toward the front of the house. The entire house is dark. I dropped
the panties and bra. With his free hand he opens the door to what I figure is
the cellar and down we go. At the bottom he flicks on the light switch and
throws me into a stuffed chair.
I look around the room and find the walls are covered with flags and
pictures - more pictures than flags. He tells me something in a language I
don't understand. I shake my head back and forth. He repeats himself,
louder. I stand. He pushes me back into the chair. He climbs the stairs and
closes the door. I get up and climb the stairs. The door is locked. I
descend back down the stairs and look at some of the pictures. All of the men
in the pictures are in uniform - some dark black, some brown. They are all
wearing swastika arm bands. One of the large flags on the wall is a white
swastika in a black ball on a red background. I was sure that Adolph Hitler
was in some of the pictures.
When he returned he was wearing his uniform. All black with a hat and
everything. The swastika arm band was the only color he wore. I moved to the
corner of the basement and waited for him to descend but he didn't. He spoke
to me and then I could hear the sounds of people in the house - women. He was
gone and the door remained open. I raced up the stairs and down the hall into
Elsa's room. I closed the door behind me and stood with my back to it,
panting. Elsa was standing in the middle of the room staring at me. I broke
for the window, whipped the drapes aside and dove head first through the
opening.
I rolled around on the grass for a couple or rolls, like you see in the
movies and then I was up racing through the overgrown yard toward the back
fence. The bushes were pulling at my clothes and then I was up on fence
throwing myself over into the yard behind them. I must have run for five
minutes straight and didn't stop until I was in one of my most secret hiding
places. I was panting, could hardly catch my breath but it was worth it. In
my clenched right hand I held Elsa's bra and panties that I had scooped up
running down the hall as I escaped from the cellar. What a story this is
going to make !!
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Frederick T.
hangten <an19164@anon.nymserver.com>
"You should have been here yesterday....." Bruce Brown - circa 1958 - 1961
"Slippery When Wet" or "Surfing Hollow Days" I can't remember.....
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