____________________________ | | /)| KRISTEN'S BOOKSHELF |(\ / )| DIRECTORIES |( \ __( (|____________________________|) )__ ((( \ \ > /_) ( \ < / / ))) (\\\ \ \_/ / \ \_/ / ///) \ / \ / \ _/ \_ / / / \ \ o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety o o of stories. They have been submitted by people from o o all over the world. Also from alt.sex.stories (News o o groups). There is no particular order other than o o offering them to you in alphabetical directories. o o o o All works are copyrighted to the author and may not o o be used for profit without obtaining the author's o o permission in advance. o o o o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult o o entertainment and should not be read by minors. o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o 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-- I always appreciate feedback. If you really like, really hate, or can see some improvements to my stories, send feedback to secretdcguy@hotmail.com Read more of my work at /~Secret_DC_Guy/.