----------------------------------------- NOTICE: All the standard warnings about being of age, about being aware of your community standards apply to the following story! Please read no further if you are under age 18/21 -- or live in a conservative area -- or are offended by explicit sexual stories. ----------------------------------------------- Scroll down for story.... --------------------------------------------------- This is a work of fiction and any resemblence to anyone is strictly conicidental; all the standard disclaimers apply to the material. This story may be posted and/or filed in ftp storage but please give author credit as well as reserve copyright. --Author: s.a.m@usa.net [FF teen group voy solo-f] -------------------------------- HOT SUMMER NIGHTS By: s.a.m Yes, it was in the summer, a hot, steamy southern summer when I met the girl next door whose family had recently moved from California. They seemed exotic, different and Candice and I instantly became inseparable. She was one year older, but that was exactly why I liked her so much. As the eldest of three girls, I needed a big sister, someone in whom I could confide, ask questions and learn all the secrets of older girls. She was cute, taller than myself; but mainly I remember her big brown eyes, the freckles sprinkled across her nose, the funny smile. We could discuss anything and everything, yet that summer the topic was our neighborhood friends. I was thirteen, and Candice was nearly fifteen; we'd stroll around the block, eyeing the rough and tumble boys who would glare at us as if we were freaks, even though these boys were between fourteen and sixteen. I hadn't gotten to the stage of being "boy crazy" and considered them to be the freaks! However, one July afternoon, Candice told me she had discovered a secret hideaway the boys had in the nearby woods. Our neighborhood was on the outskirts of town, and across the highway the wooded pine thicket beckoned; a field was beyond that, and often the boys would go there to play baseball. So when Candice told me that the boys had built a secret place in the woods, that she'd seen them go there, we both knew we just had to spy on them! We could just imagine sneaking up, carefully concealing ourselves and snooping on the boys; it seemed an irrestible idea to me! (I've always been too curious!) Anyway, we planned out sneak attack for one late afternoon -- that's the time Candice said she'd seen them creeping into the woods, and they stayed till almost dark. Once we were walking through the slanted sunlight filtering down through the thick pines, I felt nervous and asked her what would happen if they caught us. She laughed, said not to worry; they were too busy to notice us. I wondered what she meant? The straw-littered ground had a dim, faded path that went deeper and deeper into the woods; the daylight was shielded in these deep woods, and it almost began to seem scary. I remember Candice took my hand, telling me not to be afraid. And I trusted her. Finally, I could hear faint laughter, giggling and occasional voices, sometimes a long groaning sound that made me wonder what the boys were up to? Candice put her finger over her mouth, told me to be very quiet and we practically tiptoed along, getting closer and closer, and as we did, I could hear strange sounds coming from the tangled honeysuckle vines where no light penetrated. The boys had found a secluded spot, the tangled, snarled honeysuckle vines providing a hidden nest in the woods; the vines were blooming, and the heady perfumed scent was incredibly inviting. We crept closer, being cautious where we stepped, Candice holding my hand firmly. When she pointed to a slight indentation in the vines, I followed along eagerly, seeing how she edged herself into this tight little place, doing just as she did. We held our breath, but shouldn't have worried about being seen or heard; the boys were far too absorbed in what they were doing. And as Candice looked through the tangled vines, I saw her flinch; she turned around, tried to keep me from looking. But by then, I was stubbornly set on seeing what was going on in there, why those boys were making such strange sighs, moans, groans. I wondered if they were in pain, hurting each other? At last, she gave up and let me look: I thought the boys were hurting each other at first. But then, as I watched, I realized they were doing something I knew was wrong, yet couldn't say exactly why I felt that way. Sure, I was old enough to have heard about sex, but more as a topic of curiosity and how it happened between a man and woman. Indeed, we girls were kept ignorant in some ways during those days and times in the South. Yet I instinctively knew that the boys were doing a forbidden act as they continued their groaning and cries of ecstasy. Candice told me we should leave; she said she'd never dreamed they were doing something like this! I couldn't move, because the longer I watched, the more peculiar I began to feel; my whole body was flushed, and I thought maybe I was getting a fever... When she tried to pull me away, I resisted; you see, I was fascinated by what the boys were doing to each other, and somehow it made me feel good, all tingly and slightly breathless. One boy was lying in the center of a circle on a blanket; his pants were down, and he had a hard-on displayed proudly. The other boys, mostly younger, were taking turns at him, doing what he told them, sort of as a game, it seemed. I realized that Candice had stopped protesting, that she was behind me and we were both mesmerized by what we were seeing...a boy would approach, then the one lying down would tell him to touch his hard thing, and how to rub it, how to do it so he would groan and groan, but stop suddenly, make the boy quit. As I looked around the circle of boys, I realized they had their zippers open, and a few were fondling their own small penis, one or two old enough for a hard-on. Every now and then, as they watched a boy perform on the one lying down, a boy would let out a long, awful cry of pain, and I'd see his hand working furiously on himself, the spurting white jet erupting as he collapsed. In truth, I didn't know exactly what they were doing to each other, but I knew it made me feel very, very excited and hot, like I was getting sick or something. I also felt Candice pressing against my back, and she seemed to be swaying slightly, in a swoon when I looked around to see her glazed eyes staring raptly at the boys; she rubbed against me lightly, a kind of swaying, swinging motion that made me feel even hotter, sweat breaking out all over my body. When all the boys had taken turns with the one lying down, he was still showing off his huge, thick hard-on and stood up, taunting them, "Yeah, no one knows how to do this right. So I gotta do it myself, you jerks!" And his fist clasped his penis rigidly, went faster and faster up and down his shaft, his eyes on the other boys, some of them now doing it too, all of them watching as the older boy groaned, the jism coming out in long, hot streams of juicy stuff as several others also lost it. Candice had me by the arm, was whispering to come on, we'd get caught! And no telling what they'd do to us, since we'd learned their nasty little secret! Two of these boys were her brothers, one older, and one younger than her. She sure had something on them now! Once we'd cleared out, made it safely to her house, we went into her bedroom and shut, locked the door. She was acting strange, kinda keyed up and frantic, walking around and tossing her hair back, running her fingers through it and this made me upset, alarmed. I asked her what was wrong, and she kept saying, nothing. But I knew she was hiding something from me, and I kept pestering her to tell me... I think that finally she just couldn't help herself; she lay facedown on the bed, and I hurried over, asked if she was sick, what was wrong. By now, she had tugged her shorts and panties down, had her hands inside and underneath her, moving up and down, up and down, turning her head away from me as I sat down by her, asking repeatedly what she was doing... Just when I thought I couldn't stand it anymore, started to get up off the bed, she heaved herself upward, her butt rising up high, then coming down flat, hard on her hands, shuddering and whimpering little cries into the bedcovers. I remember I felt so strange, all tingly and anxious, upset, yet kinda feverish, the sweat running down my back, the tense, tight feeling between my legs as I pressed them together making me light-headed. She said nothing for a long while, then slowly she turned her face toward me, looked up and said she was sorry. I assured her she'd done nothing to be sorry for, and she told me that she'd been doing what the boys were, only it was different for girls. I was in some kind of altered state, really, I was edgy, tense, couldn't sit still, squirming around beside her. I guess she decided to take mercy on me, and though cautious, she asked if I felt funny. I said I did, that maybe I was coming down with a fever. I recall her laughing, saying, yeah it was a sickness sometimes. And then she gently urged me to lie facedown as she had, both of us lying close together yet carefully apart; she instructed me to put my hands down inside my panties, which I did...that heated rush going all through me as I done what she told me, trying to find the delicate folds of skin between my legs, that dark, hot spot she said would make me feel really good, would cure my fever, my strange sickness. I was ignorant though, and I couldn't find the sweet, sharp place she kept telling me would release all this pent-up need... But she had gotten excited again, and had her hands back inside her panties, humping her hand slowly, slowly while trying to instruct me. Perhaps she saw the desperation on my flushed face, and decided to help me... I don't know, but I don't think she wanted to touch me down there. It was as if that was something we couldn't do, yet I actually asked her if she'd help me find it, help me find the right touch... My words sent her over the edge, and she shoved hard into the mattress, squenching up her ass, moaning a long, deep sound in her throat, and somehow, seeing her do that, my fingers found the magic button and oh, God!, I remember that intense, searing first touch, how I fought it, was afraid, scared and she realized my struggle, sat up and placed her hand lightly on my butt, almost a caress, soothing me and saying, "Easy, easy...it won't hurt you, it's good for you, makes you feel real special down there, go on, don't fight, go with it." And I was rising higher, my butt pumping like hers had, working harder and harder against my fingers on that slick, secret place where all feeling rushed, converged and then, I cried out, afraid yet unable to stop that overwhelming gushing rush of climax, my legs tightening together, the tension in my butt clenching muscles, the first spasm fading, another weaker one trembling through my body, that electric sensation down there unlike anything I'd ever felt. When I'd collapsed from sudden weakness, Candice apologized; she said she'd accidently figured out how to do it, just got all hot from catching her brothers masturbating. She told me it was good, nothing to be ashamed of, but that I should not teach any other girl to do it, and that I should never touch another woman down there. I trusted her, and possibly because she gave that advice, those precautions, I never did want to touch another girl, never felt the desire to initiate anyone into this pleasurable secret we shared. Candice moved away the next winter; we never talked about doing it, nor what we'd witnessed in the deep southern woods. But undoubtedly, these sensual experiences shaped my own forbidden desires; I have always wanted to watch a man masturbate, or have someone secretly watch me as I slowly, sweetly masturbate for an hour or longer, drawing it out for myself and the voyeur's exquisite sexual pleasure. After learning how to masturbate, I did it frequently. At one time, I was masturbating at least twice a day, even if I had to hide somewhere to have the privacy to do it. I would slip out into the woods at my cousin's farm, loving the memory of those boys ecstasy; or I'd lock myself in the bathroom, do it as fast, as quick as I could. And to this day, I still love to pleasure myself with prolonged daily excursions into purely erotic intensity. -The End-