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o                                                     o
o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety o
o of stories. They have been submitted by people from o
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Always With Me - 4
by Secret DC Guy (secretdcguy@hotmail.com)

***

Chapter 4 Growing Together: Brian and J.J. are now 10 
years old and beginning to learn more about the world. 
On a trip to J.J.'s father's construction site they 
share a first preteen kiss and meet the enigmatic Amos 
Jones. Things might get a little hotter, but they are 
still to wounded kids trying to figure things out. (FF, 
bg, b-solo, preteens. ped, s/m, rom, voy)

***

Chapter 4: Growing Together

As she lay on my bed, I couldn't tell what was more 
beautiful, Jenny's smooth slim undeveloped body or her 
angelic smile, so my eyes kept switching between her 
body and her face. However, every time I looked into 
those eyes, they told me to come to her—this was the 
time. Finally, after entirely too much hesitation on my 
part, she quietly said, "Brian, please… This time we can 
do it."

I was nervous, but I got on my knees between her legs. I 
knew what I was supposed to do, so I started kissing her 
belly and slowly worked my way down. I kissed down one 
leg to her knee, then back up, and down the other. 
Finally, I knew it was time. I kissed the smooth mound 
above her privates, then slowly worked my way down. 

We had tried it before, but it never worked. Either I 
freaked out and started crying or she peed on my face. 
Our pasts had held us back until today. But today 
everything was right. Tonight I was finally going to 
erase Julia from my life. Jenny would take her place as 
the focus of my desire. Almost four long years after we 
met, we would start to become one.

As I kissed Jenny lower, I began to taste her. I 
couldn't remember what Julia had tasted like, but I knew 
Jenny tasted different. She was as sweet as the fruit 
she was always eating, with a slight and indescribable 
tang. It was the greatest thing I had ever tasted. I 
wanted to do it forever.

In the background, I could hear Jenny softly purring. 
Occasionally, she would let out a whimper, or tell me 
that I was doing it perfectly. I could feel her body 
begin to tense, as she told me to keep going. Then for 
some reason her voice got deeper and she became more 
commanding. I felt her hand grab the back of my head and 
pull it into her, I could barely breath. All the time 
she was telling me how good of a boy I was—how special. 

When I began to feel coarse hair against my upper lip 
and nose, I knew something was terribly wrong. I tried 
to pull back, but the strong hand behind my head 
wouldn't let me go. I noticed the hand was way too big 
just as a second hand joined it. Suddenly, the body in 
front of me arched and let out a familiar scream. When I 
could finally get back to my knees, Julia was in front 
of me smiling, and telling me all the things she used to 
years ago.

I screamed.

When I noticed what was going on, I was sitting upright 
in my bed sweating. My mother was behind me rubbing my 
back, while my father sat in front of me shaking his 
head and looking at the floor. "Was it the same 
nightmare again?" he asked.

"Yeah, it was." I replied.

My father muttered under his breath and cursed Julia, 
just like he did every time. I had been having the 
nightmare for almost four years now. It had started a 
few months after Jenny and I took the shower together, 
and was the same every time. I would start off trying to 
go down on Jenny, but eventually it turned out to be 
Julia. It would always be one-sided, about her pleasure 
and nothing else. At first, the dreams made it strange 
to be around Jenny, and eventually she could tell 
something was wrong. Finally, after a few weeks, I gave 
in and told her about them. Instead, of being upset that 
she was part of the dream, she accepted that I couldn't 
control them. Eventually, over the years, she became 
very understanding.

After about half an hour, I had calmed down. After a hug 
from my dad and a kiss from my mom, they left the room. 
Keeping my promise to let Jenny know when I was there, I 
still slept with the light on, so my parents didn't need 
to turn anything off. When they were gone, I lay back in 
bed and looked out my window towards Jenny's room. I was 
surprised to see her sitting in her window looking over 
at me. I got up, walked over to my window, and sat in 
the box looking over towards her.

"It was the same thing again. Right?" Jenny quietly said 
across the thin walkway between the houses. 

"Yeah, it was." I replied.

It was always hard to guess how Jenny would react after 
she found out about one of my dreams. Sometimes she 
would get quiet, other times she would be reassuring. 
Tonight her reaction was completely unexpected—she 
started to cry and beg me not to blame her for being in 
the dreams. I was floored! I had never thought that she 
might think I blamed her for being in them. In fact, on 
the nights after the rare occasions when I had seen her 
naked through her bedroom window, I never had a 
nightmare. Desperately, I wanted to tell her that, but 
something always felt weird about it. 

I reassured Jenny for a few minutes that I didn't blame 
her at all for the dreams. When she calmed down, she 
said something completely unexpected. "I'm happy you 
don't. I couldn't live if you did. I don't want you to 
leave me or forget about me… Ever! I love you…"

Jenny stopped. I wasn't sure what she meant to say, but 
after an awkward pause, she said, "Like a brother… I 
mean I love you like the brother I never had. I must be 
really tired. I'm going to bed. I hope the dream doesn't 
come back."

Before I could respond, she was in bed with her back to 
me. Not knowing what else to do, I went back to bed as 
well.

* * *

I awoke the next morning to my father knocking on my 
door. When I didn't answer right away, he popped his 
head in and smiled. "Hey son, tomorrow's your birthday, 
so I thought I'd give you a surprise today."

"Um… What is it dad?" I asked. 

"That's a secret," he answered slyly. "But I'll put it 
this way, you like big trucks and every 10 year-old 
needs to start learning a trade. Be downstairs in half 
an hour." With that he left.

I rolled over and looked at the alarm clock. It was only 
7 o'clock, much too early for a boy my age to be dragged 
out of bed. But something told me that today would be 
special. My father rarely got excited about things, so 
when he did, I knew it was a big deal. If he was excited 
about doing something for me, it had to be huge—maybe 
even life changing. 

Pulling myself out of bed, I looked into Jenny's room. I 
expected to see her lying there drooling like she always 
did, but amazingly she was already out of bed. Teenage 
boys, or those getting close to the teen years, need a 
lot of sleep. Supposedly, girls don't need as much, but 
Jenny broke that stereotype. The girl could sleep 
through anything—anything except her nightmares.

I didn't give much thought to why Jenny was out of bed 
so early. We were best friends, of course, but it's not 
like I knew where she was at every moment. So I crossed 
the hall to the bathroom and got into the shower. For a 
long time, I was the typical little boy who hated the 
bath or shower, but now I didn't feel awake unless I had 
scalding hot water shooting onto my body every morning. 

I didn't usually think about much while I was in the 
shower, but for some reason today I started to remember 
the day four years ago when I was in there with Jenny. 
I'm sure it was different today, but remembering her 
smooth, lean, almost boy-like body gave me that tickle 
in my wee-wee. I was hard before I started to wash it, 
and when I did, it was a feeling like I had never had 
before.

Almost automatically, my hand closed around it, and 
started to move up and down. In a minute, my hand was 
moving as fast as I could move it. I was in heaven. 
After a few minutes, it began to twitch and felt like it 
would explode. Suddenly, a rush came over my body. I let 
out a loud grunt, and the feeling passed. I was 
exhausted and felt as if I were going to collapse into 
the water. Somehow, though, I managed to finish the 
shower. After drying myself and getting dressed, I went 
downstairs. 

Just as I hit the bottom of the stairs, I was hit by a 
flying ten year-old girl. "It's our birthday," Jenny 
yelled as we fell to the ground. For some reason, she 
began to tickle me, which she had never done before. I 
thought I was going to laugh until I peed, but in 
reality, my wee-wee started to get hard again. Just 
having her sitting on top of me would have been birthday 
present enough. After maybe a minute, she got bored and 
just laid on top of me to give me a hug. Out of nowhere, 
she gave me a kiss on the cheek. 

"OK kids, get a room," her father laughed. "And it's not 
your birthdays, that's tomorrow."

"Yeah, stop the horse play. You've got a big day today," 
my father added.

Jenny, her father, and my father were all wearing old 
jeans, as if they were going somewhere dirty, so I was 
glad that I hadn't gotten dressed in anything nice. Our 
mothers on the other hand, looked beautiful in skirts 
and blouses. They were dolled up as if they were going 
somewhere fancy. When I asked where we were going, Mr. 
Jenkins said it was a surprise, but that it was a place 
boys like to be. 

A few minutes later Jenny was munching on an apple, as 
we all drove up into the mountains in Mr. Jenkins' 
pickup truck. Jenny and I were riding in the back, with 
the wind enveloping our bodies. Our parents somehow all 
fit into the front. It did seem kind of cramped up 
there. Mr. Jenkins was driving, my mother sat in the 
middle, and my father sat by the window. Mrs. Jenkins on 
the other hand had to sit on my father's lap. Luckily 
the cab was spacious; otherwise she would have been 
squashed. 

When we had gotten out of the valley into more open 
area, I heard my father let out a moan. "Oh god, that's 
nice," he quietly said. At the same time, I heard Mr. 
Jenkins say my mother's name. I turned around to see 
what was happening, but something was odd. I could only 
see the heads of our fathers. Our mothers were not in 
sight. My father's head was back against the window of 
the cab. He seemed to be breathing heavy. On the other 
hand, Mr. Jenkins was red-faced. It seemed as if he was 
straining to concentrate on driving. This continued for 
a few minutes, and Mr. Jenkins' driving became more 
erratic. 

Suddenly, Jenny grabbed my hand, and said, "We're going 
to crash!" She pulled herself to me and hid her face in 
my chest. She was scared to the point of tears. Afraid 
myself, I let our bodies sink down into the bed of the 
pickup and held her tight. Trying to calm her fear 
calmed mine as well.

Then I heard my father let out a moan, and hit his head 
against the plastic window in the back of the cab. At 
almost the same time Jenny's father shouted my mother's 
name and jammed on the brakes. I didn't know what was 
happening as Jenny as I slid up and it the metal wall of 
the cab. My head hit the metal first and stopped me. 
Jenny kept sliding until we were face to face. Without a 
word, she closed her eyes and kissed me. The kiss wasn't 
passionate and no sparks flew. Instead, it was soft and 
tender. It felt natural, as if our lips had no purpose 
other than to kiss each other. I could have stayed in 
that position forever, but we were interrupted my father 
calling back to see if we were OK. Jenny said yes, as we 
sat back up.

The rest of the trip was uneventful. However, the 
excitement of the trip was subdued. Kissing Jenny had 
made me so happy and satisfied, I didn't know if 
anything could have matched it. But when we got to our 
destination, my life changed.

Somehow we had driven to the top of the mountain into a 
cleared area with a beautiful view of the countryside 
stretching to the next mountain. You could see the 
farms, ponds, and downtowns of several small towns that 
made up the small valley. The view was breathtaking. 

However, it was the cleared area above where we drove in 
that amazed me. Dump tracks, back-hoes, front end 
loaders, and other construction equipment were 
everywhere. What seemed an army of men were building at 
least a dozen houses, and it looked like there was room 
for several more. This was one of Mr. Jenkins's 
controversial developments. The woods on the mountain 
were indeed being ripped apart, but to me the bare dirt, 
the piles of rock, and all the activity was amazing. It 
was like Jenny's father was a farmer of a different 
kind—one who made buildings grow from nothing. I knew 
exactly what I wanted to do with my life.

Jenny was as amazed as I was. She exclaimed that she had 
never been at one of her father's sites that had been so 
beautiful, and started to run towards the construction. 
Before she got a yard away, though, her father grabbed 
her arm. Snickering, he said that safety came first. 
While my father was with us, our mothers had stayed back 
at the truck. They called for us to come over and 
presented us with hard hats just small enough for our 
heads. Each had our name and came in our favorite 
colors—pink for Jenny and dark green for me. Jenny 
looked so proud in hers. I'm sure I looked the same.

My father and Mr. Jenkins were each putting on hard hats 
of their own. However, I was confused that neither of 
our mothers was. If Jenny and I were going to be staying 
for a while, I couldn't believe our mothers would stay 
back at the truck that long. When I asked my mother why 
she didn't have one, she told us that they wouldn't be 
staying. She and Mrs. Jenkins had only come long enough 
to see us get our presents. Apparently, it was going to 
be a father/child day, and our mothers were going out 
with some friends. 

As Mrs. Jenkins was finishing, I heard a roar from the 
entry road. Two motorcycles, driven by two women, were 
coming up the road. They pulled up next to the truck and 
got off. I recognized one of the women, my mother's old 
friend from the police force. A few years ago, she had 
quit rather than be fired. I'm not sure what it was 
about, but I was told it had to do with her personal 
life. Since then, I hadn't seen her, though I heard my 
mother had. In that time, she had put on weight and cut 
her hair short. She almost looked like a guy. I still 
thought she was beautiful, though something told me that 
even if I were older I'd never have a chance with her. 

My mother's old friend gave my mother a hug and shook my 
father's hand. She did the same for the Jenkins's before 
introducing her 'partner'. It seemed kind of Old West, 
the two women riding through the back roads on their 
motorcycles partners in crime or whatever they were 
doing. The adults walked off a bit and chatted. Then my 
mother kissed my father deeply. It wasn't the way she 
usually did in front of me. It seemed more like what my 
cousin told me he kissed girls. 

Mr. Jenkins's was doing the same to Jenny's mother. When 
our parents were done, they all walked over to the 
motorcycles. Our mother's got on behind the other women 
and wrapped their arms around them. It shocked me that 
then Mr. Jenkins went in front of the women and in turn 
tied our mothers' hands together. They couldn't get off 
the motorcycles if they wanted to. After another round 
of kisses, the motorcycles pulled away and our father's 
came back over.

As they returned, I heard a voice talking slowly. The 
voice was soft, but seemed to have the power of a hard 
life behind it. "So, these the little ones you told me 
about Mr. Jack," the person said.

Turning around I saw an old black man walking towards 
us. He wasn't particularly tall or built strong and it 
seemed he had trouble walking. However, I could tell 
that he was not a man anyone should mess with.

"Amos," Mr. Jenkins said as he turned around. "I know I 
stopped asking you years ago, but I've got friends here 
today, so will you please call me Jack."

"No, Mr. Jack," the man said with a smile on my face. 
"You's ma' boss, and ma' daddy taught me to call ones 
boss mister."

"If you really have to, Amos," Jenny's father said 
giving the man a hug. "Let me introduce you to some 
people. This is Kevin Shaffer, my neighbor and friend. 
Oh, and he's also with the bank. You know my J.J., and 
this is her friend, Kevin's son, Brian. Everyone, this 
is Amos Jones. He's been my foreman since I started 
building houses. When we moved up here, he came too. 
He's as much a part of this operation as I am."

"Wells, Mr. Jack, you's a good man to work for. You pay 
well and you're willing to make a negro a foreman. Not 
many bosses in the South gonna do that."

I couldn't help but smile. I didn't know what it was 
like to be black in the South, but from everything I 
heard it was bad. It seemed as if Mr. Jenkins treated 
Amos with a respect that few others would. My parents 
had taught me to treat everyone with respect, no matter 
what they looked like. Now I could see how much some 
people appreciated that.

After a few minutes of discussion some things about the 
construction site, Amos turned the conversation back to 
the personal. "Mr. Jack," he said, "I saw the missus 
leaving with those girls. Looks like you gonna have some 
fun tonight."

"Yes I am, Amos, and Kevin too. Seems our wives have 
some of the same interests, and we both get the benefits 
from them. I'm sorry you're having to stay up here and 
don't get to have any fun yourself."

"Oh, don't worry about me, Mr. Jack. I told you I'd be 
alright. And I is having some fun." Amos gave a smile 
that was both cocky and self-assured. "Yes, Mr. Jack. 
I'm having my fun and took care of two of your problems 
at the same time. Notice you ain't had no protesters up 
here in a while."

"I did, Amos. Are you saying that they didn't just give 
up."

"No, Mr. Jack. I always tell you, 'you just have to talk 
to the right people'."

"You didn't do anything illegal, did you?"

"No, sir. Amos Jones has never broken a law in his life. 
He's too smart of that. But I'll tell you what I did. 
You know that cross that got burnt up here a few weeks 
ago? Well, I saw the guy who did it and turns out he 
ain't the sharpest knife in the drawer if you know what 
I mean. See, he drinks at the bar down the hill and 
lives in that big house just across the road down there. 
Well Amos sees this and decides to pay him a visit. I 
takes the money I asked you to leave—not much, just 
about $500. So I'm gonna give him the money and get him 
to stop, but then I see his wife staring at me through 
the door. Well, she's a pretty woman, and I'm betting 
she's never been with any other men, let alone a negro 
man. So I ask to come in for a drink of water. 

Needless to say, that in half an hour I'm giving the 
wife $50 bucks after…" Amos paused, "playing some pool 
with her. Guy watched the whole time. All the time I was 
telling him how much better black men were in… at 
playing pool. Afterwards his wife agreed. Now Amos is 
going back there for a shower and a nice breakfast every 
morning. And I get to have some fun any time I want it. 
I don't stay the night though. Gotta get back and watch 
this site."

I had no idea how a game of pool could get someone to 
stop bothering the site, but my father and Mr. Jenkins 
were laughing like they'd never heard anything so funny. 
"Well Amos," Mr. Jenkins said, slapping the older man on 
the back, "that takes care of one problem, but what 
about the other?"

"Well, Mr. Jack, that's where I got really creative. You 
see the folks up here might be backwards, but they ain't 
got time for no burnin' crosses. To them that's a 
backward southern thing. So I got that guy to come up 
every few nights and burn a cross. Now those protesters 
don't come up because they don't want anyone to think 
they's the ones burnin' the crosses."

"Genius, Amos!" Jenny's father exclaimed. "So you're 
punishing the guy and getting him to keep the 
undesirables away. Are you being careful?"

"No, Mr. Jack, I ain't. If the woman gets pregnant, I 
already got her convinced she will have to go over to 
New York City and get rid of it. Luckily, she likes the 
dark tools enough to do it. She's already gone once. 
Didn't even ask me to pay for it." 

As Amos was finishing, a young man with a cocky smile 
walked over. "Ok Amos," the man sneered, "Let's get your 
boss's opinion."

Mr. Jenkins didn't look happy. He called the man a 
'little shit' and told him to refer to Amos as 'sir'. 
The guy looked furious, but held his tongue. He started 
describing a problem with the site. Apparently, they had 
to stop building further down the hill because of some 
unstable ground. There wasn't much of it, but they 
couldn't build over it. The young man was suggesting a 
special way of building the street over the area. It 
would be expensive, and they would lose several lots.

Amos, on the other hand had a different idea. He thought 
the unstable ground was an old stream bed that at some 
point in the past someone had filled in. The land was an 
abandoned farm, so he figured that the farmers had 
blocked it to keep the water on the farm. He suggested 
that they dig it out and let the stream go back to its 
natural course. The young guy thought it was the 
stupidest thing he had ever heard and stated how he had 
gone to college for civil engineering. Amos, on the 
other hand said he had called a geologist from the local 
college to take a look at it.

Jenny's father said that he'd take a look for himself. 
So everyone piled into various parts of the truck and we 
drove over to the area. The geologist was there with a 
couple of assistants, finishing up their work. After 
greetings were exchanged, the geologist told everyone 
that Amos was completely right. All that had to be done 
was for the crew to dig out about a mile and a half of 
fill and there would be a stream. He also pointed to a 
farm down the hill with a trickle of a stream coming out 
of it, and said that they would get more water. And as 
an added bonus, the road on the other side of the 
mountain that kept washing out would be fixed. 

The blocked water wouldn't be undermining it any more. 
Amos chimed in that he had already talked to the farmer 
down the hill, who was so excited, he offered to pay 
half the money to dig it out. Amos had declined, and 
asked only that Mr. Jenkins have the 'right of first 
refusal' to buy the farm when the farmer was ready to 
leave. I don't know what that meant, but apparently 
Jenny's father was very happy. After the geologist left, 
he told the civil engineer to redesign the development 
around the stream or he'd be fired.

The rest of the day was a tour of the construction site 
where Jenny and I got to talk to the various 
construction workers doing different jobs. We even got 
to help with starting to dig out the stream from the 
bottom of the hill. As we were loading back into the 
truck, I announced that I wanted to build houses like 
Mr. Jenkins did when I grew up. All the adults got quiet 
until Amos spoke. He said that the era of the builder 
was over, and I needed to get an education. 

Jenny's father added that in the future engineers would 
be planning everything and every house would need an 
architect—whatever that was. Finally my father finished 
by saying that I could build houses if I wanted, but I 
should probably go to college for engineering first. 

I was disappointed that I would have to put in so much 
work to become a home builder, but I knew what I wanted 
to do with my life.

* * *

The rest of the day was uneventful. My father told us 
that we would have a joint birthday party the next day, 
but it didn't really excite me. Going to the 
construction site today would have been hard to beat on 
its own. However, the inadvertent kiss from Jenny would 
be impossible to top. 

I'm not sure what Jenny thought about it because she 
didn't mention it again. Sitting in the back of the 
pickup truck as we descended the mountain, she was 
quiet. She did cuddle up next to me, but she didn't say 
much. Even while we were sitting with our fathers at a 
picnic table at a drive-in eating pizza and soft serve 
ice cream, she seemed to be in her own world, responding 
to questions but not initiating any conversation.

When we got home that evening, I noticed my mother 
weren't there yet. I asked my father where she was, but 
he smiled and said she'd be out late, but would be home 
for the party tomorrow. I asked what she was doing, he 
responded that her friend had taken her and Mrs. Jenkins 
to a party. That made me happy. My mother didn't get to 
get out to parties much. Instead when she went out it 
was either with my father or with Mrs. Jenkins. However, 
she seemed to enjoy it that way.

So after a snack and some TV, my father put me to bed. I 
still slept with my bedside light on so that Jenny could 
see if I were awake or not. When I looked over at her 
room, I saw that her light wasn't on, so I settled down 
to read for a while. About half an hour later, I heard 
her calling. I went over to the window and waved over to 
her. I really wanted to ask her how she felt about the 
kiss, but unfortunately she said she was really tired 
before I could. So we said good night almost 
immediately. Jenny settled into bed and fell asleep 
almost immediately. I finished reading fell asleep as 
well. 

I wasn't sure how long I had been asleep or what time I 
was when the sound of the front door slamming woke me. 
Shooting bolt upright, I looked at the clock. I was 
about 3 o'clock in the morning. As I was still waking, I 
heard something fall on the stairs. I was curious what 
it was, but I waited for a minutes before getting out of 
bed. Before I got to my door though, I heard my father 
come out of my parent's room and call my mother's name. 
She called that she was OK, but her voice was very 
slurred. My father must have helped her up the stairs, 
because in just a few seconds, she was peaking in my 
door. Luckily I had heard her coming and slipped back 
into bed.

After the door closed, I heard my parents talking, but 
something sounded different. I noticed it first when my 
mother said, "Sir, can I take a shower?" It was odd, 
since my mother always called my father by his name or 
'honey'. I didn't even call my father sir.

My father's response was even more surprising. "No, you 
little dyke. You are going to have to spend the night 
with beer and pussy juice all over you," he said. While 
he didn't sound angry or mean, it was obvious that my 
father was ordering my mother to go to bed dirty, though 
I had no idea what 'pussy juice' was.

My mother said, "yes, sir," and walked into their room.

I have to say that I was curious about what was 
happening, so when my parents were both in their 
bedroom, I snuck out into the hall. Their door was open, 
and I was shocked by what I saw. My mother was still in 
the outfit that she wore earlier that day, but she 
looked much disheveled. Her hair was messy and looked 
damp; her shirt was on backward, and her skirt was 
ridding up her butt. I could tell she wasn't wearing any 
underwear. Scared I would be seen, I hid in the darkness 
of the guestroom where I could still get a good view 
into their room.

"How was your day?" my father asked my mother.

"It was great. Thank you for it, sir," my mother replied 
looking happily at my father.

"You should be thankful. Most husbands would throw their 
wife out of the house when they found out she was a 
dyke."

My mother's face looked at the ground. It seemed as if 
she might cry. "But I'm not really a dyke, sir. I still 
want you."

"But do you want any other men," my father sternly 
responded.

"No, sir. I do not."

"Not even, Jack Jenkins?"

"No, sir. He is not as powerful as you."

"Then why did you suck him off today?" My father asked. 
I had no idea what he meant, but I thought it might have 
something to do with what happened in the truck. If it 
did, then I couldn't understand why my father was being 
so stern. It seemed as if he and Mr. Jenkins were both 
having a good time.

"Because, sir," my mother said, looking up at my father 
again, "You wanted me to. And I can stand being with 
him. He is powerful too, just not as powerful as you 
are. Are we lucky we met them, sir?"

"Yes, dyke we are," my father sneered. "You get to have 
your pussy play whenever you want, and you get a loving 
and caring husband."

My mother started crying. "I owe you everything, sir. 
You treat me too well. Please don't ever make me leave."

When my father spoke again, his voice sounded firm but 
more caring than it had before. "Of course I won't make 
you leave. After all I love you, and you love me. And 
you are the best wife a man could ever want. You keep a 
great home; you're a great cook; you are the best mother 
our son could have; you keep me satisfied; and you've 
never cheated on me."

"No I have not, sir," my mother quietly replied. "That 
would be disrespectful. I only fuck women, and I always 
ask permission first. Thank you for nurturing that side 
of me. I never would have had the courage to become a 
dyke without your support. Everything I am, I am because 
of you, sir."

I was shocked by what I had heard, not only was my 
mother using language I had never heard from her before, 
but I was surprised by what she was talking about. I was 
only nine years old—would be ten tomorrow, but I knew 
what she was talking about. My cousin, Tony, had told me 
what the word meant a few years back, when walked into 
his basement while he was naked with a girl. 

He offered to tell me about sex if I promised not to 
tell anyone what I saw. I wouldn't have told anyone 
anyway, but I still took him up on the offer. Later, I 
asked my parent's what sex was. After their story of 
'the birds and the bees' and how people should love each 
other before having sex, I knew exactly what fucking, or 
screwing, or sleeping with someone meant. 

I also knew what cheating was. Though I didn't know that 
two women could have sex—every explanation I got about 
sex required the different parts on a man and a woman—my 
mother using the word fuck was revealing enough. I knew 
that when two people were married, you were not supposed 
to have sex with anyone else. However, my mother 
apparently had sex with a woman that day and was having 
sex with Mrs. Jenkins frequently. Still my father said 
she never cheated. I didn't know how any of that was 
possible. I made a note to ask Tony the next time I saw 
him.

My parents had been silent for a few minutes before my 
father spoke again. "No little one, I am everything I am 
because of you. Your love and obedience make me strong. 
I will never leave you or make you leave. I could not 
bear to live without you."

"Then it is good that we found each other, sir. Isn't 
it?" my mother said smiling more brightly than I had 
ever seen.

"Yes it is, my beautiful one. But now I need to use your 
dyke pussy," my father said standing up.

"Please do, sir. That is what I am here for. May I get 
naked for you?" my mother said grabbing the bottom of 
her shirt.

"No, pet. We start with your clothing on," my father 
said. He pulled his pajamas off and said, "Suck!"

My mother didn't hesitate as she took his penis—I 
learned that was the real work for wee-wee—into her 
mouth. My father smiled and closed his eyes. He held my 
mother's head by the sides and seemed to guide it with 
his hand up and down his shaft. Soon, he began to moan.

This continued for a few minutes before my father 
stopped my mother's head. He placed a finger under her 
chin lifting her to her feet. Then he bent her over the 
bed. As he lifted her skirt, he gently rubbed my 
mother's butt. He said it was perfect, then said she had 
the perfect pussy as well. My mother almost begged as 
she asked him to "put his cock in her cunt". My father 
obliged by sliding himself deep inside of her. Then he 
started to move himself in and out of her. 

They continued like this for a few minutes before my 
father slipped my mother's shirt over her head, then 
pulled out of her and pushed her skirt to the floor. As 
they started to have sex again, my mother started to 
talk. "Sir, do you still like my breasts."

"Yes, little one. I love them."

"I wish they still had milk in them, sir. I know how you 
loved that when Brian was little."


"I did, pet. But I love them the way they are now."

"Sir, one of the women at the party today said they are 
making a drug that can make a woman lactate without her 
being pregnant. Would you like me to do that for you?"

I don't think my father heard the question, because at 
my mother's last words, he started grunting and pumping 
faster. He looked like he was in his own world, his eyes 
closed and head tossed back. After a few minutes he gave 
a loud grunt and slammed my mother's body back into his. 
With a grimace on his face, he held her there. As he 
did, my mother let out a loud moan. When my father let 
go, my mother collapsed onto the bed. My father fell 
beside her.

After a few minutes my father spoke, "Now you still 
cannot have a shower tonight. I want you to go to sleep 
with my cum dripping out of you."

"Yes, sir," my mother replied.

Then the conversation got really strange, as my father 
said, "Can you make liver for dinner this week?" My 
father hated liver.

"No, sir. I cannot. You don't like liver." my mother 
replied in the soft voice she had used before sex. "Can 
I eat some of your cum out of my pussy, sir?"

"Yes, pet. You can," my father sighed. My mother smiled 
and stuck her fingers down to where my father's penis 
had been. I hadn't seen her down there before, so it 
surprised me that unlike Julia she didn't have any hair. 
She stuck her fingers inside, and scooped out a white 
stuff. It must have been the cum my father talked about. 
Then she licked her fingers and smiled at my father.

My father smiled back at her, and again asked, "Pet, can 
you make liver for dinner this week?"

"Yes, I can if you really want me to."

I expected my father to say thank you, even though I was 
still confused about why he would want my mother to cook 
something he hated. However, instead he just hugged my 
mother and said, "I love you, Nancy. You really are the 
best wife a man could ever want."

My mother reply was neither soft nor deferential. 
Instead, she spoke to my father in her normal voice, 
"Kevin, you are the best husband ever. No wait. You're 
the best man ever. I really would be nothing without 
you."

They hugged and kissed for a few minutes. It seemed to 
be like the kiss I had shared with Jenny—honest and to 
the point, as if they were made to be kissing each 
other. After a few minutes, my mother said, "Now honey, 
we need to get some sleep. We have a birthday party to 
put on tomorrow."

"I know, baby," my father responded in a tender voice. 
"I'm gonna sleep like this though, so you should close 
and lock the door. I don't want our boy see us like 
this. He wouldn't understand."

My mother stood up and walked over to the door. She 
looked down the hall towards the guest room where I hid 
and paused. I tried to be perfectly silent and still so 
she wouldn't see me. But she looked at the exact place 
where I hid and smiled. Then she closed and locked the 
door.

I tiptoed back to my room, and quietly closed the door. 
Wanting to talk to someone about what I saw, I looked 
over into Jenny's room. However she was still asleep. I 
didn't want to wake her. Instead, I lay down in bed and 
drifted back to sleep.

* * *

The next day was one of the most confusing days in my 
life.

The weirdness started with my parents acting like 
nothing had happened the night before. They were 
obviously tired, as they kept drinking coffee, but they 
were in great spirits. In fact, it seemed to be among 
the happiest days of their lives—at least the part of 
their lives that I remembered. 

As the day went on, things went downhill. Jenny's and my 
birthday party was a complete bust. I did have fun with 
my friends and Jenny had fun with hers, but the groups 
never seemed to mingle. Every one of us or one of our 
parents, tried to get some activity going either the 
boys joined, or the girls did. But when one group saw 
the other was participating, they would hold back. It 
made for some interesting happenings where the boys 
unhappily made crafts while girls struggled with the 
rules of whiffle ball. When left to their own devices, 
everyone enjoyed themselves though. The worst part was 
that Jenny and I hardly spent any time together. 

After all the guests had left, my family sat with 
Jenny's in our living room. We had each opened presents 
from our friends, and now settled down to open them from 
our families and each other. My parents gave me some 
clothing, the game Sorry, and some of my father's Hardy 
Boys books from when he was a kid—I loved reading them. 
Jenny got some similar things from her parents.

Jenny and I exchanged our presents last. Jenny gave me a 
record called "Mickey Mouse Disco". It was an album of 
disco songs adapted to Disney characters. It might have 
been a bit juvenile for me, but I had heard it once and 
told Jenny I thought it was fun. I was really happy that 
she remembered.

Then I gave Jenny my gifts for her. The first was the 
book "Watership Down", a charming book about a small 
group of rabbits trying to make their way in a world 
they didn't really understand. My mother had read it to 
me chapter by chapter when I was little, and I knew 
Jenny would like it too. She loved it.

However, when I gave her the second present, she didn't 
look quiet as happy. Before opening it, she looked at me 
sadly and said she had only gotten one present for me. 
My heart melted thinking that she felt bad, but I 
encouraged her to open it anyway. When she did, she was 
ecstatic. A few months ago we had been at the mall with 
our mothers. While they were shoe shopping next door we 
had wandered into a toy store, and in the back, Jenny 
saw a pair of pom-poms. Suddenly, she started talking as 
quickly as she had the day we met and started telling me 
how much she wanted to be a cheerleader. After we had 
parted ways for the day, I had my mother take me back to 
the store so I could buy them for her. 

Jenny launched herself onto me, hugging me as if there 
would be no tomorrow. All the time, she told me how much 
she liked them. Then she whispered in my ear that she 
would have a present for me later.

That night I went to bed early, hoping to get to talk to 
Jenny. I wanted to figure out what happened at the 
party, and also find out what my present was. Jenny was 
already settled down in her room when my parents left. 
Moments later we were at the windows talking.

When I asked about the party, Jenny didn't really know 
what had happened either, but she did know that most of 
her girl friends didn't have close friends who were 
boys. I admitted that my friends didn't have any close 
girl friends either. Jenny said that our relationship 
must be different than other people. Then she asked me 
if I would still always be with her. She didn't ask as 
often as she did when we first met, but still would from 
time to time. When I promised I would, she told me it 
was time for my second present.

I waited with anticipation as she stepped away for a few 
minutes. When she stepped back into view, she was 
wearing a cheerleader uniform that someone must have 
given her for her birthday. She was holding the pom-poms 
I got for her. After asking if I was ready, she started 
to do a cheer. It was nice, so I was happy she shared it 
with me. Then she told me to wait a minute, a stepped 
out of view again.

When she stepped back into sight, she wasn't wearing a 
shirt. It had been a long time since I had seen her 
without one and her body had changed. Where she once had 
small nipples like mine, you could now see a definite 
difference. They weren't big like my mother's had been 
the night before, but they were definitely noticeable. 
More remarkably, I could see that they topped small but 
definite mounds. Jenny was growing boobs!

I felt what had become an all too common stirring in my 
pajamas as my penis began to get hard. I really wanted 
to touch it and feel good like I had the day before 
However, I refrained, afraid of what Jenny might think.

Jenny began to start a cheer topless. When she finished, 
she stepped out of sight again. She came back wearing 
only what I eventually would learn were bloomers. After 
finishing, she again stepped away and came back naked 
for one more cheer. 

Her body was amazing. Besides the breasts, the area 
below seemed to have grown too. It wasn't like her 
chest, but it just seemed rounder. I could tell that it 
was softer. However, she was still hairless down there. 
I made a note to ask Tony the next time I saw him why 
some women had hair down there and some didn't.

After the last naked cheer, Jenny asked me if I liked 
it. I said I had, but asked why she had done it naked. 
She thought for a second, then said that for some reason 
she just wanted me to see her naked.

We stood in silence for a little while, before Jenny 
asked if she could see me naked too. Without saying a 
word, I stripped for her. For a while, I don't know how 
long, we stood curiously gazing at each other's 
developing bodies. I desperately wanted to look at her 
like that forever, but I also had a feeling of finality, 
as if I would never see her naked again.

When she spoke again, Jenny sounded sad. "It's too bad 
we can't touch each other."

I started to think back to the last time, almost four 
years ago, we had tried to touch. I had remembered the 
effect we had on each other, and almost cried. I really 
wanted to touch her, to explore her body, to have her 
explore mine. However, last time we had done anything it 
was a disaster. I was afraid that if we tried again, it 
might be the end of our friendship. I wanted to make 
Jenny feel better, so trying to sound hopeful I said, 
"Maybe someday we can."

Jenny smiled slightly and said, "Maybe." 

I wasn't convinced she believed it, but still initiated 
our good-nights. Soon I was dreaming of Jenny and her 
body. All too soon it was Julia in the dream.

* * *

For once I was afraid to talk to Jenny about something 
that had happened in my life. Usually, I would tell her 
everything, but for some reason the picture of my mother 
kneeling obediently in front of my father seemed very 
personal to them. It was something I shouldn't have 
seen, and other people should not know about.

However, over the next few weeks the situation gnawed at 
me. Instead of keeping my parents' secret, I began to 
feel that this was an important thing that I needed to 
tell my best friend. From all of my experience with her, 
I knew she wouldn't judge the situation. She was 
probably the most understanding person I knew. I kept 
the situation to myself though, as I just couldn't find 
the right opportunity to tell her.

And the summer passed both slowly and quickly that year. 
Every day seemed to drag by, in a good way, with ice 
cream sandwiches and Coca-Cola's at the corner store. 
We'd play catch in the field behind the houses and ride 
our bikes on the street. My cousin Tony was just about 
to start college, and was seen as a responsible adult 
around the neighborhood. So on some days we would ride 
our bikes with him to the other side of town. We'd take 
one of the trails up to what he said was a 'parking 
spot', though it looked more like a clearing in the 
woods at the top of a cliff. 

Up there he'd tell us about what he would be doing in 
college down in Washington, DC. His college didn't sound 
very interesting, but the city did. He would point 
across the valley—we could see the whole thing from up 
there—and tell us how much better DC was. I had never 
been there, but I really wanted to go and see it for 
myself. Jenny, of course, had come from there and had 
bad memories of the place, so she didn't seem so 
interested in his stories.

Even though the days passed slowly, the weeks passed 
quickly. Suddenly, it was the first week of August. 
School started early that year, so mid-week we realized 
that we would only have two more weeks of fun before the 
next year of our lives started. Like any school 
children, we were sorry to see the summer end. When you 
are a child, change, even if it turns out to be good, is 
unwelcome.

On Friday morning, we were sullenly sitting on the front 
my front porch when Tony came to the house. He had a 
book bag filled with books, as was usual for him. He was 
"trying to get ahead before classes started," and was 
always studying. As he opened the front door, he 
announced that we had better be good or we wouldn't get 
our surprise for the weekend. Neither of us knew about 
anything special, so we sat confused asking ourselves 
what he meant.

A few minutes later, we saw a taxi pull up in front of 
the house. My mother and Mrs. Jenkins came out, 
suitcases in hand. Waving to the cab, they told us that 
they were taking a bus into New York City to do some 
shopping and have a 'girls' weekend'. Tony would stick 
around for the day and we were to obey him. Our fathers 
would be home from work early and had a surprise for us. 

Sure enough, about one o'clock my father pulled into the 
driveway greeted us and ran excitedly into the house. 
About half an hour later, Jenny's father pulled in next 
door and waved. Over the hour or so we watched our 
father's putting two coolers and several bags into the 
back of Mr. Jenkins pickup truck. Finally, we saw them 
throw in two unmistakable canvas bags. They were our 
families' rarely used, but identical tents. It was 
obvious we were going camping.

Jenny said that she was running home to change into 
something appropriate for the woods, and I decided to do 
the same. I wanted to thank my father, but he was in the 
kitchen talking with Tony. "Ok, son. You can stay here 
for the weekend, but I don't want any wild parties. 
Quiet intimate parties, though, I encourage," my father 
chuckled.

"No parties for me, Uncle Kev. I was just going to have 
two people over. Maybe we can have a beer or two if 
that's OK with you?" my cousin responded. He sounded 
almost as if he were begging my father to let him do 
something the same way I would.

"Well kid, you know that you and your friends are 
underage. But I think it would be OK if you don't get 
into any trouble. Are you having guys from the wrestling 
team over, I know they can get a bit out of control."

"No, sir. I'm done with most of those guys. They're 
going to work in the factories or for the power company. 
I really don't have much in common with them anymore. 
Plus, they're all new so a lot of them are working 
overnight shifts. So I was planning on having two of the 
college bound girls over."

My father paused for a minute, then continued, "Tony, is 
that really a good idea? I mean, one girl is enough to 
handle for an evening, but two? Someone is going to get 
jealous—especially if alcohol is involved."

It was Tony's turn to chuckle. "Uncle Kev. I'm heading 
to a major university to study psychology, don't you 
think I've figured it out. The girls are the McDonald 
sisters, and they do everything together. And if you're 
wondering about me having the time for them, they're 
staying all weekend."

My father paused again. "Do you mean the red-headed 
twins?"

"Those are the ones," Tony said sound 
uncharacteristically cocky.

Once more my father was silent. When he continued he 
sounded as if he were going to cry with pride. "Tony, 
you really did deserve to be valedictorian. At your age, 
I could never have figured out how to work something 
like that. I'm very happy to be related to you, even if 
it is only through marriage. Still though, I don't want 
any accidents coming out of this. There are some rubbers 
in the drawer of my nightstand. Use them."

Though I had listened to the conversation, I had no idea 
what they were talking about. Why was my father so proud 
that Tony was having two girls over for the weekend? I 
mean, what were they going to be doing? Tony was a 
really smart guy, and helped me with homework from time 
to time? But it was summer, so the twins couldn't want 
help with homework—unless maybe they were trying to get 
ahead for college too. I decided that studying was the 
only possibility, so I went upstairs and changed into 
old jeans and a t-shirt.

I did wonder what Tony would be using rubber bands for 
and why my father kept them in his nightstand.

* * *

Later that evening, we were in one of the nearby State 
Parks setting up the tents on opposite sides of a 
clearing. Because of all of the gear, Jenny and I had to 
ride in the cab of the pickup truck squished between our 
fathers. It was a bit uncomfortable, especially since I 
couldn't find a place to place my arm that wasn't 
uncomfortable. Apparently, Jenny was having the same 
problem because she finally grabbed my hand and held it 
for the remainder of the trip. I really liked the 
feeling, especially when she put it in her lap. It was 
warm in the cab of the truck, but for some reason, her 
lap felt even warmer.

When we finished setting up the tents, we cooked dinner 
in aluminum foil packets. They weren't very good, just 
unseasoned beef, carrots, and potatoes, but they were 
the perfect camp food. Mr. Jenkins had also brought some 
tins of canned fruit salad, but Jenny was the only one 
who ate them. Personally, I found them disgusting. We 
toasted marshmallows for desert, while our fathers had a 
few beers. 

Finally, after the sun had set and a few ghost stories 
were told, everyone was ready for bed. Jenny and I 
started to head in opposite directions when her father 
stopped us and told us we were in the same tent. He gave 
some excuse about us kids having fun, while the two of 
them had some more beers.

Before I knew it, Jenny had happily agreed for both of 
us. In our tent, we made small talk for a while before 
we decided that we should change. Instead, of one of us 
going outside, we decided that we would just turn around 
while the other took off their clothes. I went first. 
Initially, it seemed natural taking of my clothing, but 
then things got weird. Looking at Jenny, I saw that she 
was fidgety. 

For some reason, that made me excited. My penis got so 
hard that I got embarrassed, afraid that even turned 
away from me, Jenny could see it. After I was finished, 
it was Jenny's turn to get changed. I wanted to ask if I 
could watch her like I did back on our birthdays, but 
was scared she might get mad at me. Instead, hiding my 
hard wee-wee, I sat with my back to her trying to get a 
glimpse of her in the shiny blade of a pocket knife my 
father had given me over the summer.

After changing, we both decided to go outside and pee, 
going into the woods at opposite sides of the site. When 
we got back our fathers were talking kind of loudly, 
laughing about something. Jenny giggled and snuck over 
to hear what they were talking about. After a few 
minutes, her eyes grew big as if she were shocked by 
what she was hearing. After she waved for me to come 
over, I was there in a second. The conversation was the 
strangest thing I had ever heard.

"So as I was saying, Jack, you came up with a great plan 
for our lesbo slut wives," my father laughed.

"Come on, Kev, you know the slut part is only because we 
make them," Jenny's father demurred.

"Gotta disagree with you there, Jack. They don't go 
whoring around because they found men who can both love 
them and control them. They really are sluts deep down. 
That's why they are so willing to do all the crazy shit 
we tell them," my father said in a more serious and 
correcting tone.

"Ok, you're probably right. But you made the best 
additions to their itinerary. What's the full schedule 
again?" Mr. Jenkins conceded.

"You just love hearing it, Jack," my father laughed, as 
Jenny's father joined him. "Ok, so they get there and 
rest a while before dinner at Windows on the World. Then 
they get dolled up and work the streets at Times Square 
for a few hours. Once they've earned some money, they go 
to that bar Amos suggested and get some black dick. I 
expect that they'll be getting back to the Plaza pretty 
late and with cum dripping out of their pussies. 
Saturday morning they have the appointments for the 
abortions…"

"Your nephew must feel pretty good about knocking up two 
married women in one night," Jenny's father interjected.

"He does," my father replied, "but he's also really 
happy that they're making it go away. The boy needs to 
be careful; he's got some potent sperm."

"Well I'm glad he liked his graduation present," Mr. 
Jenkins said. Though I couldn't see him, I knew he was 
smiling. "Anyway, continue."

"Ok, so after the abortions, they may need a while to 
rest. But after that, they go down to the Village and 
get all butched up. You know, short haircuts and 
clothing like men. Then they spend the rest of the day 
trolling the lesbian bars looking for lipstick dykes. 
They see who can get more, married women, first timers, 
and college girls are extra points. And of course, the 
winner gets to wear the strap-on that night. Then of 
course they go to church and come back on Sunday. Then 
we get all of the entertainment Sunday evening," my 
father finished matter-of-factly.

"And the makeover is part one of your most genius plan," 
Jenny's father said in a very devious voice. "You're 
sure it will work?"

"Sure as I've ever been about anything, Jack. Just think 
it over," my father explained. "What local bank would 
continue to employ a banker with a lesbian wife? So when 
it gets out, I'll get fired. But I'll already have been 
giving information to the Feds for several years. So 
it'll look like I'm getting fired for being a 
whistleblower. That with the charges to the board will 
destroy them. Quietly, I'll be hired by your friend from 
that big bank out in Pittsburgh, and come back in as a 
White Knight running the whole eastern Pennsylvania 
Region. You and I will get rich by not only following 
the law, but upholding it."

"Genius!" Mr. Jenkins exclaimed. "Now, man, I'm kinda 
horny. Mind if I jack off."

"Not at all my friend," my father chuckled. "While you 
do, take a look at these pictures I had our wives take 
last time they were together."

The conversation was over, so Jenny and I snuck back to 
our tent in silence, which was good because I had a lot 
to figure out. This new disease called AIDS had been on 
the news lately. So there was a lot of talk about gay 
men. Coming out of that, people started talking about 
lesbians—women who had sex with other women. However, I 
knew that my parents had sex—I could hear it quite often 
at night. I also knew that Jenny's parents must have had 
sex at least once. So if our mothers were having sex 
with our fathers, how could they be lesbians, or dykes 
as my father had called my mother earlier that summer? 

My father had also called my mother a slut. From things 
Tony told me, I knew that it wasn't a good think for my 
mother to be a slut. But my father was referring to her 
in what almost seemed an amused and loving way. Finally, 
apparently both of our mothers were pregnant, and by 
Tony, nonetheless. I couldn't comprehend what I had 
heard.

I don't know how long the silence lasted, but eventually 
Jenny quietly said, "I always wanted a little sister. I 
guess I won't have one now."

I didn't know how to respond. I had never thought about 
having a little brother or sister. To me being an only 
child was normal. I couldn't relate to Jenny's feelings, 
so I just put my arms around her and held her close. For 
a few minutes we cuddled in silence.

Eventually, Jenny rolled away and faced me. Looking 
sadly into my eyes she said, "Brian, I feel like you've 
been hiding something from me for a while. What is it?"

I was stunned, since it seemed as if she sensed I had 
kept what I had seen my parents do the night before our 
birthdays a secret from her. I don't know if I felt she 
would hate me or my parents, or something else. I just 
felt like I couldn't tell her. Now tonight, when I had 
never been more confused about life and relationships, I 
knew I was going to have to explain it to her. I sighed, 
and started at the beginning with my mother staggering 
up the stairs. I told her everything in vivid detail, 
with the exception of thinking my mother saw me.

Nervously, I waited for a response. I don't know whether 
Jenny let out a sigh or a chuckle, but after whichever 
it was she told me that the same thing had happened with 
her parents. She didn't see what happened, but heard it 
through her door. It had happened enough times before 
that she knew what was happening.

We talked for a while about what everything meant—our 
mothers' submissiveness, our fathers calling them 
lesbians, and them getting pregnant by Tony. Based upon 
everything we had heard and saw not only did they like 
doing it, but our fathers like them doing it. The more 
we talked, the stranger things sounded. Finally, we 
decided that the only way to understand it was to try 
something ourselves.

Jenny quietly got out of her sleeping bag and knelt in 
front of me. I stood, looking down at her, trying to 
figure out what to do. My mind was blank except for a 
feeling that something was wrong. Most importantly, 
though Jenny was there ready to do something sexual, I 
didn't feel at all excited. Where my penis should have 
been hard, it was soft and felt cold. 

In silence, Jenny touched my leg. However, instead of 
feeling the wonderful sensation I felt when we held 
hands earlier that day, the touch felt foreign—
unwelcome. As she moved her hand up the inside of my 
leg, I noticed that Jenny was shaking. I found it was 
strange that it made me feel better, until I realized 
that it was because I was shaking too. We were both 
nervous. 

Finally, Jenny's had reached my penis. I had hoped that 
her touch would make me feel good, but instead I began 
to feel lightheaded. Jenny hand didn't move. At first I 
thought she was looking for direction, but then I 
realized that something was wrong. Suddenly, she jumped 
towards the tent door. Without a word she was gone. I 
heard her pee hitting the ground right outside of the 
door just before my knees went out from under me.

I think it was only a few minutes until I awoke. When I 
did, Jenny was sitting with my head in her lap stroking 
my hair. "You didn't like it either?" she said. I wasn't 
sure if it was a question or a statement.

"No," I replied quietly. "It was horrible."

Jenny sighed, "Yes. It was. Let's not do that again."

I agreed, and in a few minutes we were lying cuddled 
again. After a few minutes Jenny turned towards me 
again. 

"I have something that I haven't been telling you 
either," she said. By the way it came out, it sounded 
like she was about to make a big confession.

"It's ok. You don't have to tell me if you don't want 
to," I lied. Part of me felt betrayed that something big 
happened to Jenny and she didn't tell me. Though I also 
realized she must have felt the same about me not 
telling her about my parents.

"I want to, and I don't know why I didn't. Especially 
because it has a lot to do with you," she said. It was 
dark, but by the tone of her voice I knew she was 
smiling.

"What is it?" I asked. I tried to sound calm, but 
something about what she said made me feel excited. I 
had never thought about it before, but having an effect 
on Jenny's life made me happy. I tried to figure out 
what it might be. I thought about the striptease Jenny 
had done for me, what had happened in the back of her 
father's pickup truck, and how she had been willing to 
kneel in front of me earlier tonight. 

Suddenly, it hit me. Jenny was in love with me, the way 
my parents were in love. She had even inadvertently told 
me so the night before our trip to the construction 
site. My heart began to flutter. I had only ever thought 
of her as a friend before, but in a flash I realized 
that I wanted her to love me more than anything else. As 
much as a ten year old could imagine, I wanted her to be 
my wife.

"Well," Jenny said. "When you gave me the pom-poms on my 
birthday, I was a little bit upset. I mean, I really 
wanted to be a cheerleader someday, but I was sad that 
I'd have to wait two years until we were in junior high. 
But when I did those cheers for you…"

Jenny paused, but I gently coaxed her to finish.

"Cheering for you gave me the confidence to ask my 
father if he could find some place for me to cheer. So 
this fall, I'm going to be cheerleading for the town's 
pee-wee football team!" she exclaimed.

At first I waited for her to say more, but soon realized 
that her secret had been spoken. Jenny didn't love me. 
My pom-poms had just made her realize how much she 
wanted to be a cheerleader. I wanted to be with Jenny, 
but knew I never would be. My heart was broken, but I 
managed to tell her that I was very happy for her.

Then something happened that confused me more than 
anything that had happened over the last few days. Jenny 
closed her eyes and leaned towards me. She wiggled a 
little closer stretched her neck and kissed me on the 
lips. It was just a kiss on the lips, but it lasted 
longer than it should have—or at least it felt like it 
should have.

Even in the darkness, Jenny must have known I was 
surprised. I'm not sure she knew it or not, but when she 
spoke to explain why she kissed me, she confused me even 
more that I could have imagined. Pulling me closer, she 
let or foreheads touch and said, "I don't want you to 
have one of those dreams tonight. But if you do, I want 
you to see my face. So just think about that kiss when 
you fall asleep."

With that, Jenny rolled over and snuggled back into me. 
Almost immediately, I could hear her snoring. I tried to 
go to sleep myself, but thoughts of everything that 
happened came rushing back. My parents, our fathers' 
conversation, and the kiss—I kept coming back to the 
kiss. Still trying to figure out what it meant, I 
finally drifted off to sleep. 

Sometime in the night, I heard a voice gently asking me 
to do something. I knelt between a girl's legs and began 
to kiss the insides of her bare legs. Her skin was soft, 
like a pillow covered in silk. As I kissed my way up she 
felt warmer. At her inner thighs it felt hot. When I 
finally tasted her, she tasted sweet like the fruit she 
was always eating. However, before I could do much, I 
felt soft hair touch my face. As I pulled back ready to 
see Julia's face, I noticed that the hair wasn't brown. 
It was reddish blonde.

Then I was awake in the tent—sweating. I was about to 
scream, but caught my breath, which I had never been 
able to do before. That relieved me more than I could 
have imagined. I wasn't sure if it was Jenny in the 
dream, but I knew it wasn't Julia.

The next morning, I didn't say anything to Jenny about 
having the dream or it not being Julia. I have no idea 
if she knew I was holding back, but for the rest of the 
weekend she didn't say anything. The rest of the day we 
spent hiking and fishing, so by evening we were both 
ready to pass out. We barely had time to talk about 
general things before we drifted to sleep.

Sunday morning as we packed up the camp, I realized that 
in the two nights together Jenny hadn't wet herself.

* * *

The last few weeks of summer passed quickly. Our mothers 
had come back from New York with short haircuts. My 
mother had some odd looking clothing that she told my 
father she would 'slowly work into the rotation'. 
Otherwise, nothing seemed to be different from her trip 
with Mrs. Jenkins. 

Jenny and I hung out and talked like we always had, but 
something felt different. I thought it was because I 
realized that my friendship with Jenny had permanently 
changed. For four years we had done almost everything 
together, but this fall Jenny would be doing an activity 
at which I was not welcome. I could go see her 
cheerlead, but something told me that I would be jealous 
to see her cheering for other boys. I briefly thought 
about going out for football, but my mother and father 
both said I was much too small.

Jenny's practices began before school started, so she 
was gone three evenings a week. On one of them, I was 
feeling lonely and need to hide out from my parents. I 
still hadn't figured out what feelings were going on in 
my head. What did my parents' relationship mean? What 
did I feel about Jenny? Did her kiss while camping mean 
more than I thought it did? I just didn't know what to 
think. 

So picking around the basement, I came across a chest 
where my father kept some of his old things. I opened it 
intending to grab another Hardy Boys book, but saw 
something that I found more interesting, an old khaki 
uniform and a beat up old book, titled the "Boy Scout 
Handbook". Reading it, I was fascinated. There were 
sections about first aid, cooking, and camping. Then 
there was the part about knot tying and how to build 
things with just wood and knots. I was sold. Jenny had 
her new activity, and I had mine.

The next week, I was at my first Boy Scout meeting. That 
night, I told Jenny all about it an all the interesting 
things the boys wanted to do with their lives. Some 
wanted to go into the army; some wanted to be lawyers, 
some doctors. She could see my excitement and smiled, 
then told me about how worried she was about what I 
would do while she was cheerleading. After talking for a 
while, we just sat there and smiled at each other. It 
was a moment that I knew I would cherish forever.

And I did need to cherish it because even though we 
still talked at the window every night, with different 
activities and new friends, Jenny and I started to grow 
apart that fall. 

-- end chapter 4--

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