("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text Archive name: creek.txt (mf, nec) Authors name: Rzrsej (rzrsej@aol.com) Story title : By the Creek -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2001. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- By the Creek (m/f necro) By Rzrsej (rzrsej@aol.com) *** This is my first story. Comments and feedback are welcome. Please understand, the following is in no way based on any real event. It is entirely fictional. Furthermore, if you are offended by unusual stories about sex, then please do not read this. Finally, do not read this story if you are under the age of 18. *** I was 13 when it happened, but as long as I live I shall never forget it. It has colored my sex life from that day forward. Like most 13-year-old boys, sex was something about which I was more than a little curious. It was before the days when I began to across my father's cache of Playboys, before the days when I stayed up late to sneak into the downstairs living room and watch Cinemax after dark, cheering inwardly when that rare flash of pubic hair would make an appearance in some cheesy foreign film. I knew already that I liked girls. Really liked girls. The way they smelled, the way their hair looked, the way my stomach clenched when I was around them. And, like most boys, I had already started what would be a serious life-long addiction to masturbation. The truth of the matter was, though, that at this point, I still didn't know what I was masturbating about. I would picture one pretty girl or another from my class sometimes as I jerked my little penis, but try as I might, I couldn't picture them other than fully clothed. Then IT happened, and everything changed. We lived in a small town, only about 3000 people all told, a place that was quiet and where nothing much ever happened. Beyond that, my family lived in a rural neighborhood, a mile or so outside of town. It was a relatively new subdivision, and while there were rows of streets with houses dotting them, there was also a good deal of undeveloped woodland in places. One such place was directly behind my own house. It was odd really, with houses on both sides of us and across the street, but our backyard seemed like an endless stretch of pine. It was a boy's paradise, and I cannot count the Sunday afternoons when friends of mine from the neighborhood would come over to play army amidst the winding trails of my "backyard." We had our share of neighborhood girls as well, of course. There was a girl named Kelly who lived just next door, a year younger than me, but a large hulking female, with a blockish hairstyle. She was something like an Amazon to poor little old me, and I didn't spend many days hanging out with her. Her cousin Stacy, however, was an entirely different matter. There was no doubt that Stacy's family was white trash through and through. In the afternoons, just before sunset, you could hear a blood-curdling cry coming from the back door of her house, her mother screaming at the top of her lungs, "STACY! You get your butt in here right now!" and wherever Stacy was in the neighborhood she would come scampering. Somehow, though, her dingy clothes and unruly hair seemed to accentuate her rather remarkable beauty all the more. Her hair was dishwater blonde and hung to the middle of her back. She was a slender girl, even at 13, but she also seemed to have an aspect of wiry strength sitting beneath those killer blue eyes and smattering of freckles. Sometimes I would talk Kelly into taking me over to their house, where we would swing or play chase in her backyard, always careful to keep an eye on that back door in case her volatile mother should rear her head. Perhaps I should correct myself, our backyard was fenced of course, rather than just beginning at the tree line. Beyond the fence were a small field, and then the trees. Just inside the first few trees ran a small stream, more a ditch with water actually. In fact, in the summer months it rarely had running water at all. Sometimes, when none of my friends were home, as often happened in the summer, with camp taking up a lot of my friends' time, or when I just wanted to be alone, I would wander back to the creek with a book and just sit to pass the time. It was an oddly cool summer day when I wondered back there with a copy of The Hobbit. It was just past noon, but there was a nice breeze and the thermometer couldn't have climbed above 70. I went through the gate at the back of the yard, walked carefully through the overgrown field, always wary of snakes, and headed toward the trees. There was an especially large pine at the edge of the crop of trees that made a good backrest. I could see something didn't fit when I was still 25 yards from the creek. It was a bright orange color in the sunlight, nothing that would appear in nature. I was naturally curious, but with no real reason to hurry. As I got closer, my heart moved farther up into my throat. When I was right on it, my fears were confirmed. It was Stacy, lying there beside the water, a small patch of blood clearly visible on the side of her head. Terrified, I moved toward her slowly, glancing around to see if whoever had done this might still be lurking about. The air was still but for the chirping of a few birds. When at last I summoned my courage, I moved up and knelt beside her. She was not breathing, I could find no heartbeat, and though I shook her, her body was limp. She was still warm, but there was no life left in her. I was in shock, not knowing what to do. In movies, you always ran and told someone when you encountered a body, but somehow movies could never convey the realness of such a situation. I sat there for a moment, my mouth agape, with no idea in the world what to do. Tears sprang to my eyes. Tears over this beautiful girl, this girl who in some childish way I had loved. I had dreamed sometimes of hugging her, and I'd had orgasms thinking about her hair, the way her perfume smelled when I sat beside her on the swing. Now I would never be able to smell it again. I would never have the chance to hug her, never be able to kiss her. With tears blurring my eyes, I crawled over to her and looked down. Her eyes were still open in a wide stare, but reflexively, I bent down and sniffed her. It was still there, her smell. A fruity, violet sort of smell, like candy almost, very faint, but very sweet. I followed the smell, something in me wanting to know where it actually came from, and I discovered that it was strongest at her neck. It was so incredibly sweet my tongue darted out and I tasted her. Her flesh was soft where my tongue touched it. Raising my head, I looked into her beautiful eyes again, and drying my tears with the back of my hand, I said gently into her face, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..." I didn't know what I was sorry about exactly. Sorry for kissing her? Sorry for what had happened to her? Sorry for finding her? But something in her eyes reassured me. Something told me that it was all right, everything was all right, and a sense of peace spread over me. That was the moment when I kissed her. I didn't think about it, I just knelt down next to her, and kissed her childish lips with mine. They were soft. Far softer than her neck even, and though she could not return the kiss, I imagined that she did. And then, I did something that I should not have done, though something in her eyes had invited me, had told me that, yeah, if I wanted to, it would be ok. I made the decision that Stacy would be the first girl I would see naked. I don't think to this day that they have discovered who actually killed Stacy. Probably some drifter passing through; murderers never actually live in small towns, they just pass through wreaking their havoc. I'll state emphatically that I had nothing to do with it. I found her just the way that I have said. But I am bound to confess, after all these years, that I was the one who undressed her. I found her lying there in her orange tank top, her cut off shorts, orange socks and Keds, and I took them all off, and tossed them in the creek to make it look as though the murderer had done it. Slowly, I pulled her tank over her head, her arms seeming to fight me at every maneuver. Without pausing, preferring to wait until I was finished, I unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts and slid them down her tanned legs. She was wearing a pair of Barbie panties, white, with pictures of Barbie in hearts polk-a-dotting the fabric, and two holes in the side from where they were old and worn. Looking down at her, I realized, almost laughing at myself that her shoes and socks seemed incongruous with her nakedness, and I popped the shoes off one after the other and rolled the socks off her feet. She lay there before me now, her eyes looking up at the sky, her hair in an orange ponytail-holder spilling out unkempt, her body brown from the summer sun. I looked at her for a moment, unable to catch my breath at what I had done. A naked girl, a beautiful naked girl, lying before me. Her chest was freckled lightly in the same way as her face, the freckles fading as they neared her breasts. They were only mounds, really, her breasts, just developing, with soft brown nipples sitting perfectly atop each. I could tell when I looked closely that her left breast was slightly larger than her right, and it was sad to think that the other one would never catch up now. I knelt down beside her and took one of her nipples in my mouth and tried to suck it, thinking in my ignorance that perhaps there was something there to suck. And though nothing was there, it felt good to have this rubbery nipple in my mouth, on my tongue, between my teeth. I moved down then, lower on her body, touching her feet, feeling her thighs in my hand. I pinched her a little, half-expecting her to complain, but there was no sound, no movement. Then, I parted her legs, bending the knees and raising her legs up when I found that this allowed for the best view. Her pussy was a small slit, the lips thin and long, and only a bare tuft of hair had begun to cover her. I moved still closer now, wanting more than anything to see what lay down there, between those odd looking lips. Using my fingers, I stroked her, and was surprised at how amazingly soft it was. It was almost like stroking soft cotton. Then, with my thumbs, I opened the lips and was amazed at the many wonders that lay there. I stretched them wider and wider, looking deeper and deeper, discovering the hole, small but dark and sticking a finger inside to feel what it felt like. It was still warm inside of her, and slippery. Then I understood. I understood what it was that sex was about all in a rush. Perhaps I had seen something of it as a child, interrupting my parents and then repressing the memory, or heard something on television, but it was as if the knowledge was already there and I had only forgotten it for a time. I pulled my t-shirt off over my head, and took off my shorts and underwear in a rush. I had never been naked out of doors that I could remember, and the wind was ticklish, and frightening as well, in its suggestion that being caught was a real possibility. My four-inch penis was hard, to the point that it almost hurt. Unsure what to do, I positioned myself between Kelly's legs, and lay down on top of her, my chest against hers, my penis lying between us against her flat belly. I began to shift myself, trying to figure out exactly what to do. I wiggled lower, searching for the opening. Finally, thinking that I would never be able to do this with a real girl, I took my penis in my hand, and using my other hand to find her hole, I pushed myself in. Kelly lay there motionless beneath me as I went in. I was unsure what to do at first, and I lay still inside of her for a bit, feeling what it was like to have a part of myself inside another human being. Then I began to move. Maybe it was only to get out, at first, thinking that perhaps I had gone to far. But as I moved to pull out of her, the feeling was so good, so intense, that I pushed back in. I began to move slowly in and out, feeling the rubbing sensation, looking into her eyes, encircling her waist with me hands and feeling the softness of her ass as I pumped. At last I came, and it was like nothing that I had ever experienced, allowing my own semen to flow into someone. It gave me an incredible feeling of freedom to empty my lust into her like that. I remember that once I was dome coming I just lay on top of Kelly and listened to my heart pounding. Finally I rolled off of her and lay there for several more minutes panting. There was nothing else to do. I knew that I had to get away from there, that there would be no coming back for more, no way to preserve this love of my life. I gathered my clothes and dressed slowly. Then, after a last gentle kiss, I made my way back to the house where I spent the afternoon watching cartoons and trying to look innocent. They found her a couple of days later, and there was quite a stir for a while. A murderer/rapist in our little town, a true event. It all died down eventually, and people went on with their lives. But I was never able to forget though. It was my first time. It was her first time. Part of me will never be able to love anyone as much as I loved Stacy. The End. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life in anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider seeking professional help. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 14