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From: "friendly neighbor" <friendlyneighbor@hotmail.com>
Subject: Call Me Brick(g-solo,Fg Fg,ped,enem,cons,1st)
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Does anyone know where I might find the rest of this story?
Write to friendlyneighbor@hotmail.com

(g-solo, Fg Fg, ped, enem, cons, 1st)

Call Me Brick. (from the novel by Munroe Howard, Grove Press, 1967.)

   I guess it all started that summer, seven years ago, when my
guardian insisted on shipping me off to camp, to learn how to get along
with other girls my age, and get used to the idea that I couldn't just
live in my own world surrounded by men all the time, and interested
only in my own wishes and my own pleasures. Just how much I did learn,
and the direction in which some of this learning went, was as much a
surprise to him as it was to me. But before I get too far into these
memoirs, maybe it would be a good idea to explain a little about
myself, so my readers will understand what I am talking about.
   I was born a few months over sixteen years ago, and christened 
Brittania MacLean by my parents. But nobody can go through life with a
name like Brittania, so everyone just calls me Brick. I never did find
out for certain whether my red hair had anything to do with my
nickname, but it doesn't matter too much because my real name is so
terrible, I never mention it to a soul. Whenever I went to a new
school, I always got in dutch with the principal because I insisted my
name was Brick. I never did get a chance to tell my parents what I
thought of their choice as they were both killed in an automobile
accident when I was two, leaving me an orphan without a blood relative
in the world. After that, I went to live with my guardian, Jackson
Brant, a bachelor who was my father's best friend. He's tall and dreamy
looking, and his hair is curly in a way that sends shivers down a
girl's back, even when she's beyond the age of being a girl and has
become a woman. He stood in for my father and mother for fourteen years
with a lot of success, but he never really knew what to make of me.
Sometimes I think he was even a little afraid of me. Which only made us
even because there were lots of times I was more than a little afraid
of him. When those big gray eyes of his started to shine, it was more
than I could bear and very scary. Sometimes I wished he'd smack my
bottom for me and get it over with, but he was one of those dopes who
didn't believe in hitting children. He thought it would leave deeper
marks on my mind than it would on my bottom, which only shows how silly
he could be. But most of the time he was out of this world, and I loved
him like crazy. I even dreamed about him at night, and woke up wishing
he'd fallen in love with me and stop thinking of me as a little pest,
whose nose had to be wiped for her as well as her other end, both of
which jobs he took care of many times.
   Anyway, up to that summer I was nine, we were together all the time.
Even when he went on fishing trips with his friends he'd take me along,
treating me more like a boy than a girl. When it got cold, we'd share
the same sleeping bag. We'd go swimming together completely naked, and
we'd even squat down behind the bushes together when it was necessary.
Of course, being a man and all, he didn't have to do as much squatting
as I did. In those days, I used to blame God for using up all of his
better supplies when he made Adam. Because when he finally got to Eve,
he didn't have enough stuff left to give her outside plumbing in front
too. And this can be an awful pain when a girl is wearing blue jeans
and long drawers in the woods and the weather's real nippy. But when I
got to be nine, some of this friends, females of course, started saying
it wasn't right for a girl to be with a man all the time. They insisted
I should be sent to summer camp, to find out what it was like to be
with other little girls. And being only a man, he didn't catch on. I
knew they just didn't want me hanging around, watching everything they
did. But like a fool, he thought they were only interested in my
welfare, instead of their own. And where my welfare was concerned,
everything else took second place with Jackson Bran.
   But after that first summer at Camp Winnepesaukee, I stopped being
just another little girl, and learned a few things about what it meant
to be female.

   The inside of my tent was dark when I came in, seeming even darker
because the sun was so bright outside. And was it hot! The other kids
in my group were in the assembly hall, working on their costumes for
the silly show they expected to put on for the visitors over the
weekend. I got myself excused by playing sick. Jack had never taught me
how to sew, and I wasn't anxious to learn. All I wanted to do was to go
back to my tent, take off all my clothes, and just stretch out on my
cot. That's what we always did at home when the weather got too hot.
   I didn't notice Betsy on her cot until I was lying naked on mine.
Then I heard a tiny noise, looked around, and saw her for the first
time. She was naked, too. But instead of just lying there letting the
sweat roll off, she seemed to be moving her bottom up and down, and it
must have been the squeak that I had heard. She was flat on her back
with both hands pressed into her vag, and she was breathing like she'd
been running as hard as she could. I got scared because she looked so
strange, and went over to see what was wrong. That's one thing Jack
always taught me. When anyone was in trouble, it was the duty of other
people to try to help. But just as I reached the side of her cot, Bet
sort of sighed, dropped her hands to her sides, and lay back with a
dreamy look on her face.
   "What's the matter? You sick?" I asked.
   "No."
   "What were you doing?"
   "Enjoying myself, nosy," she giggled. "Why don't you do the same?"
   "But your hands were in your vag. Why?"
   "It's not called a vag!" snorted Bet. "It's my pussy!"
   "Jack always called mine a vag," I insisted. "And I guess he ought
to know more about me than you do, seeing he brought me up."
   "Gosh, you're stupid!" snickered Bet. "Every girl has a pussy."
   "What are you talking about?"
   "Ever see a big girl...naked?"
   "I see them naked around here every day. Even
counselors...sometimes."
   "Well, with all that hair in front, doesn't it look like they've got
a pussy shoved between their legs?"
   "I guess maybe it does."
   "Even men have hair...there."
   "I know that, silly."
   "Ever see a boy...naked?"
   "No."
   "They're cute...with no hair to get in the way. Just like us."
   "I still want to know what you were doing when I came in."
   "Coming."
   "No I was the one who was coming in."
   Bet eyed me for a moment with a secret kind of look. Then she patted
the top of the blanket next to her. "Sit down here while I explain a
few things to you," she said. "You talk just like a baby."
   I flopped down willingly. "Explain what?"
   "Do you know what grown-ups do?"
   "0f course!"
   "Know what it's called?"
   "Sure! Fucking!"
   "Ever see anyone do it?"
   "Yeah. I watched Jack a few times with one of his girl friends. But
he doesn't know it--thank goodness!"
   "Would he be mad?"
   "Wouldn't your dad?"
   "He'd kill me. Anyway, remember when I got sick last week and spent
the night in the infirmary?"
   "I sure do! You cried and didn't want to go. You were afraid the
nurse'd give you an enema."
   "She did. But she did something else first. She showed me how I can
do the same thing grown-ups do...all my myself."
   "How?"
   "She took me on her lap, kissed my pussy a few times, and then put
her fingers inside it. She kept moving them about till suddenly the
whole room exploded. I didn't know what really happened, but I felt
better than I ever did before. Miss Wilson told me that's what happens
when grown-up people fuck. After a while, I did the same thing for her.
We had lots of fun. Now I go back every night after everyone is
asleep."
   "You kissed her...pussy?"
   "Yeah," Bet giggled. "The hair tickled something awful too."
   "Will you show me...how to do it?"
   "Miss Wilson will."
   "How do you know?"
   "Because she told me to be sure and bring any other girls who wanted
to learn to her, so she could be sure they were taught properly. But
she warned me not to talk about the fun we have to other counselors.
You have to promise too."
   "O.K. Let's go right now."
   "No. Tonight...after everyone is asleep. I'll tell Miss Wilson at
supper I'm bringing you with me."

   That night, when Bet and I tiptoed into the infirmary after the
other girls in our tent were asleep, we found Miss Wilson drinking
coffee and talking to Mary Ann, one of the better-liked counselors in
camp. Mary Ann was a college student who taught tennis, and she was the
kind of girl who always seemed to be laughing. Of course, her figure
was wonderful from all that exercise, and she was always happy to show
it off, naked or dressed, to anyone who was interested, even us kids.
She was even ready to demonstrate to some of the older girls, who were
disappointed at the size of their tits, the proper exercises to build
themselves up. And believe me, hers were magnificent.
   I was excited and a little scared because I didn't know what to
expect, but Bet had been there enough times already to feel right at
home. As soon as we got Inside, she took off her robe and pajamas and
hopped around naked. After giving each of us a mug of coffee, both Miss
Wilson and Mary Ann smiled encouragingly at me. They could see I was
nervous, and they tried very hard to make me feel at ease. Mary Ann, of
course, knew why I was there, but she let Miss Wilson talk first.
   "I'm glad you came, Brick."
   "Thank you, ma'am."
   "Bet told me you were anxious to learn how to play our little game."
   "Bet says it's fun."
   "Tell me, do you know anything about masturbation?"
   "I don't even know what it means. I just watched Bet once."
   "Did what she was doing and where she put her hands bother you at
all?"
   "No, ma'am."
   "Do you like boys, Brick?" Mary Ann asked softy.
   "They're okay...I guess."
   Mary Ann got up and came over to stand in front of me.
   "Deep down inside, don't you think they're messy little creatures...
dirty and smelly?"
   "Sometimes."
   "You don't sound very sure."
   "The only boy I know well is my guardian...and he's a man."
   "Has be ever talked to you about...pussy petting?"
   "No."
   "Has he ever played with you himself?"
   "Oh, yes, ma'am. We play tennis together all the time."
   "I mean...does he ever play with your body?"
   "Sure! He pats my bottom."
   "Often?"
   "Every chance he gets--but usually when I'm drying off after my
shower in the mornings, or when I get undressed to go to bed at night."
   "What do you do?"
   "I giggle."
   "Do you like to have your bottom patted?"
   "Don't you?"
   After a quick look at Miss Wilson, Mary Ann reached out her hand and
took mine, pulling me to my feet. "Brick," she said gently, "I think
you and I should go into the other room for a while. I'm sure Bet and
Miss Wilson would rather be by themselves in here."
   "Okay."
   An hour or so later, when Bet and I stumbled back to our tent, I was
exhausted, but I felt better and more grown-up than I would have
thought possible for a girl of nine. And it wasn't at all strange when
you consider what I'd been through. I'd had my bottom patted more than
it had ever been before. I'd learned what it felt like to have my pussy
kissed and what it felt like to kiss someone else's. I'd learned what
it felt like to have it rubbed and to rub someone else's. And I'd
learned what it felt like to have Mary Ann's finger stuck up my asshole
and to do the same to hers. I'd learned about life, so I thought, and
I'd liked everything I had learned.


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