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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
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Goodbye Aardvark
by Dreamgiver (hughmacg23@hotmail.com)
***
A gentle, beautifully written account of how Thomas, a
12-year-old boy, and Erica, his 13-year-old friend,
discover that sex is not just for adults. (mf-yteens,
rom, 1st, oral)
***
When I woke up that morning in July, I was a 12-year-
old boy named Thomas who loved Froot Loops, chocolate
ice cream and TV cartoons. A kid like any other. A
summer morning like any other. But by noon, everything
would be different. I would know how it feels to come,
not just in my own hand, but deep inside someone else’s
body. I would know what it’s like to.lick chocolate ice
cream off a naked girl. My girlfriend. My lover.
Erica and I have been friends since we were both in
kindergarten. I’m an only child; she has a younger
sister called Kim. We live a few blocks from each other
in a suburb of Ottawa. Years ago I went round to her
home a few times – she had posters of horses on her
bedroom walls, and a pet cat called Giggles. And she
liked to keep a toy Arthur, the aardvark with glasses,
on her pillow.
One time I said something witty and she told me I was
the cutest boy in the whole school. I started feeling
strange and I wanted to hug her, but I didn’t. After I
turned eight or nine, it didn’t feel right to go to her
house anymore, let alone her bedroom. I hung around
with the guys. She hung around with the girls.
She’s a few months older than I am, and by the time I
turned 11, it was like she belonged in a different
grade. My voice was still really high. She seemed
pretty tall, and she didn’t wear pink anymore, and when
I stole a glance across the classroom, it seemed like I
could see a hint of curves under her white T-shirt. The
day we graduated from elementary school, I danced with
her and a few of the other girls. But they were all
bigger than me and most of them pretended not to notice
me. Erica talked to me a bit, but mostly she seemed
interested in this pimply jerk named Mitchell who said
he wanted to be a hockey player when he grew up.
Then she went off to a private school for girls.
Sometimes I would see her running for the bus in her
school uniform – a white blouse and a grey skirt,
rolled up above the knees – but for nearly a year we
never spoke. I went to a regular junior-high. Last fall
I had my 12th birthday. By way of a party, I went
bowling with some of the guys. But during the long
winter I started to change. Suddenly my cock was more
than just a little stub, and I soon figured out how it
could give me pleasure. Where my cock met my lower
belly, black fuzz had appeared from nowhere. My voice
was falling. And my mom had to buy me a whole new set
of clothes.
In late June, when I ran into Erica at the opening
barbecue of our neighbourhood swimming pool, she seemed
kind of surprised at the sight of me. She had just
turned 13, she said. We talked for a long time. I
didn’t know all the movies or bands she liked, but I
knew enough to keep the conversation going. I made a
couple of jokes that she thought were really funny. One
of them almost made her choke on her hot dog. When she
decided it was time to go swimming, she pulled her T-
shirt over her long blonde hair to expose a blue bikini
underneath. We looked at each other without saying
anything, and I could swear her eyes dropped below my
waist for a second. I had a hard-on, of course. A
little smile flitted across her face but then she dived
into the water.
Over the next couple of weeks we saw each other at the
pool a lot. One time she began to rub sunscreen onto my
shoulders and back and thighs, until she saw somebody
watching us. Then she stopped. But she whispered into
my ear, "You’re getting all muscular. Black hair and
muscles, wow." After she rode her bike home for supper,
I ran into the empty changing room and jerked off. It
only took about four strokes until I came. When I got
home, my mother said in a warning tone, "Watch out for
the girls, Thomas. You’re still very young."
"And you’re very old," I thought.
But the next day when I went to the pool, I found Erica
deep in conversation with a girl I didn’t know. A girl
with bushy red hair and, it was obvious, big breasts.
Erica didn’t even introduce me. I horsed around for a
bit and splashed water on their legs. They both glared
at me. I put on my Bart Simpson voice but Erica said to
her friend, in a really loud voice, "Don’t pay any
attention to him, he’s just an annoying little kid."
So I turned my back, swam a couple of lengths, got
dressed and rode my bike home. A little kid, eh? For
the next few days I hung around with my friends Jonas
and Nick, and I didn’t go near the pool. Then one
evening the phone rang and my mother asked me to answer
it.
"Is that Thomas?" the voice said. I could tell it was
Erica, speaking quietly. "Are you still mad at me?"
"No," I said. "Well, maybe kind of."
"Listen," she said. "Tomorrow morning my mom’s got to
drive my sister off to camp in Quebec. My dad leaves
for work soon after 8. So there’ll be nobody in the
house till the afternoon. Would you like to come over?"
"Um, sure," I said.
"Only the two of us, you understand?" Erica said, just
as my mother, who was baking a cake in the kitchen,
called out, "Who is it, darling?"
"I have to go," I whispered.
"Maybe 8:30?" Erica said before she hung up.
"It was Nick," I told my mother "He wants me to come
round in the morning."
It’s a good thing she couldn’t see my face; she knows
me all too well, and she would have realized I was
lying. As it was, she seemed kind of suspicious the
next morning. Why did I throw on my jeans and orange
shirt and sandals so fast? Why was I keen to devour my
Froot Loops and leave the house so early? "Ride
safely," she called after me as I left the house.
I rode fast at first, then slower, then really slowly.
What did Erica want, anyway? As I parked my bike in her
empty driveway, I felt a tingling in the pit of my
stomach. I rang the doorbell not knowing what to
expect.
She opened it an inch to make sure it was me. When she
opened it fully, I saw why – she was wearing the blue
bikini and nothing else. At the pool, comparing her to
some of the other girls in Grade 6 and 7, I thought she
looked really mature. That morning, as she stood
barefoot in the hall, she seemed no older than me. Her
face was nearly round: what my mom calls "girlish." But
her eyes were shining. They were the same colour as her
bikini.
"Hi," she said. "It’s great you came round. I wasn’t
sure you would."
I followed her into the house, then out onto the back
deck. Her pet cat was sunning himself. "Hi, Giggles," I
said, and reached down to stroke his silky black fur.
"You remember him?" Erica said. "Of course," I said.
"He used to really like me." Giggles began to purr and
rub against my leg. "He still does," Erica said. "He’s
a smart cat."
There was silence for a minute and then she went into
the kitchen and came back with a plate of chocolate-
chip cookies and two glasses of milk. We sat facing
each other on a pair of canvas chairs, not sure what to
say to each other. "Good cookies!" I finally said.
Actually they weren’t as good as the ones my mom makes,
but I didn’t want to hurt Erica’s feelings. I reached
down to pet the cat again.
"I’m really sorry, Thomas," I heard her say. I
straightened up and found she was looking away from me.
"I know I hurt you the other night when I said – that
thing. I didn’t mean to be cruel. It was just that
Tiffany was telling me all about her boyfriend
problems."
"She has boyfriend problems?" I said. I was thinking
that with breasts like hers, the guys must be lining
up.
"Yeah," Erica said. "This guy beat her up because she
didn’t want to sleep with him any more."
"Oh," I said.
"You wouldn’t ever do that to me, would you?"
"Beat you up? Of course not! You know me, I don’t even
like to beat up mosquitoes."
This was true – people always tell me how gentle I am –
but she seemed to find it hilarious. When she stopped
laughing, she said, "You have milky lips, did you
know?"
I reached my tongue out to lick the milk away. Despite
the coating of milk, my lips felt kind of dry. I
couldn’t think how to reply, so I finally said, "And
you have a beautiful body."
This seemed to be the right response, because to my
amazement Erica got up off her chair, walked a couple
of steps over to mine, and said in a really soft voice,
"Do you wanna go out with me?"
"Sure," I said, and then she was leaning down, her hair
brushing my forehead, her fingers clutching my hand,
and her lips pressing against mine. My first –
"Not like that," she said, pulling away. "Open your
mouth."
So I did. It was the sweetest, coolest taste in the
world. I could have stayed there all morning, doing
nothing except kiss her. But she pulled away again.
"What do you want to do now?" she said.
Now? Did we have to stop? I felt like one of those
explorers we’d read about in school, standing on a
seashore or a mountaintop, grateful to have reached a
lookout point, not certain where to travel next.
"Play a game, maybe?"
This was not the right answer. She wrinkled up her
little nose, let go of my hands and sat down again in
her chair. I realized my voice had crept up an octave.
"What kind of game? You mean like Monopoly or Clue?"
I didn’t know what kind of game I meant. But I knew I
wanted more of that taste, more of those lips, so firm
yet so incredibly soft. For a second I wondered what
her breasts would look and feel like if she took her
bikini top off.
"How about strip poker?" I said in as deep a voice as I
could muster.
Her blue eyes widened and she began to say something,
then stopped. "You mean it?" she said. I nodded. She
grinned and said, "OK, let’s go inside."
So we walked back into her living room, shutting the
door on Giggles. My mind was racing. "I don’t really
know the rules," I said, "but we can make up some."
"Fine," she said. "Got any ideas?"
"We each pick a card," I said. "Whoever gets the lower
card has to take something off." I knew this wasn’t
really poker, but I didn’t care. And neither did she.
She fetched a pack of cards from another room. They
were World Wildlife Fund cards, with a panda on the
back of each.
"But it’s not fair you’ve got so many clothes," she
said. "Are you wearing any underpants? Yeah? So I have
to put on three more things. Don’t go away!"
And she ran upstairs to her bedroom. I could hear her
opening a cupboard. I half-expected her to come down
and order me out of the house – 12-year-old boys aren’t
allowed to be in paradise! The nervous tingle in my
stomach had come back. When she emerged from her room a
minute later, she was wearing jeans, a white T-shirt
and a green sweater. She looked beautiful – I could see
she’d brushed her hair – but suddenly it was impossible
to imagine her naked.
"So, loverboy," she said, "pick a card."
She called me "loverboy"?
We were standing on the plush white carpet, with the
panda cards on a low coffee table between us. I chose a
card – the 6 of diamonds. "Oh by the way," she said,
"ace counts high." She lifted the 8 of spades.
I kicked off my left sandal and grinned. I grinned even
more when I chose the jack of hearts. She wiggled her
tongue at me, reached down, and produced the ace of
spades.
So, I was barefoot now. "You go first this time," I
said. She nodded and took the four of hearts. "That
should be easy to beat," I said. But the card that came
away in my hand turned out to be the two of clubs.
Slowly I hitched my orange T-shirt over my head and let
it fall to the carpet. My chest felt incredibly bare.
Erica had seen it before at the pool, of course, but
had she ever looked at it so closely? Did I have enough
muscles for her? Had I got rid of the baby fat?
She reached out and picked the eight of diamonds. I
went right down to the bottom of the pack, and came up
brandishing the six of spades.
Now I had to take off my jeans. I felt an impulse of
shyness, a sudden need for privacy, so I half-turned
away from her as I dealt with the zipper and pulled the
jeans down. Not very graceful. I turned back to face
her, my ears burning. Now all that was left between me
and oblivion was a pair of thin red briefs, with a wet
spot in the middle where my cock was pushing out the
fabric into a little tent.
Erica was still standing beside the coffee table, fully
dressed as though it were a morning for church. "Wow,"
she said. She had a huge grin on her face. I wondered
what my mom would say if she could see us now. That
made my cock start to droop, and I said, "Maybe I
should be going ..."
Silence. "You really want to?"
"No," I said. "Of course not. But I – I want to – like,
it doesn’t seem fair you’re still dressed."
Erica picked up the entire pack in her hands. She
leafed through it and plucked out a card. Then another.
Then another. She put the pack down on the table and
showed me what she’d taken: the 2 of clubs, the 2 of
hearts and the 2 of spades. "Choose your cards," she
said. And when I’d picked up three others, she didn’t
even bother to look at them. Instead she tugged her
sweater over her head, tossed away her T-shirt, and
stepped gracefully out of her jeans.
Now she was wearing nothing more than the blue bikini,
and looking straight at me. How come girls are so
brave? My head was swirling. I felt like she was a
thousand miles away.
"Don’t be scared," she said softly. "You’re a big boy
now."
Maybe so, but I almost wished I was back at home, with
my mother packing my school bag and putting the box of
Froot Loops on the breakfast table. "Watch out for the
girls," she had said. I was watching. Boy, was I
watching.
Then Erica picked up another card. The 10 of diamonds.
Automatically I followed her: the king of clubs.
She drew in her breath slightly, as though she hadn’t
believed I would ever win a hand. But right away she
reached behind, undid the fastening, and pulled off the
bikini top.
Her breasts were smaller than I had imagined. Much
smaller than the models I’d seen in Penthouse and
jerked off, thinking about. They were like – I don’t
know, pale upturned saucers. Or little peaches. Peaches
with a tiny wild strawberry in the middle.
For the first time she was the anxious one. She lifted
her hands up to her chest, covering her left nipple
with the right hand and her right nipple with the left
hand. "Are my breasts too small for you?" she said.
"They’re still growing, right? I won’t need a training
bra forever."
"They’re perfect," I said.
Slowly she lowered her hands to her side. "Most of the
girls in my class have bigger ones," she said. "I keep
thinking I’ll have a growth spurt or something."
"It doesn’t matter. Don’t worry."
I’d already told her she had a beautiful body, and it
was absolutely true. But why did I ever think she was
tall? She couldn’t have stood any more than five feet.
Standing there topless, she looked almost fragile.
Everything about her was a gentle curve. Even her knees
were beautiful – mine stuck out like knobs.
She reached for another card. The 6 of hearts. If I
took a higher card, maybe I could escape with my
dignity intact.
I picked the 6 of clubs. We both laughed. Then she
chose another: the 9 of spades. It was my turn and with
a flourish, I reached down – and chose the 8 of clubs.
I stood there blushing all over my body. I couldn’t
move. I’d never been naked in front of a girl. I didn’t
even like being naked in front of boys – I felt they
were sizing me up and finding me a bit on the puny
side.
"I’m waiting," Erica said, and I remembered how
vulnerable she had looked just a minute ago. What was
so important about dignity, anyway? I took a deep
breath, put my hands on my briefs and tried to pull
them off; but my cock was stuck inside and it took a
few seconds to get it free. As I wriggled it out of the
damp fabric, I wondered if she’d burst out laughing.
Even when it stood fully erect, my cock was a little
less than five inches long. Tiffany’s ex-boyfriend
probably had a snake in his pants.
The briefs were down at my feet. My black, wispy
strands of pubic hair were exposed to the morning
light. My cock was standing to attention.
"Oh my God," she said. "It’s so gorgeous. You’re so
gorgeous."
I was? In all my twelve years, I’d never thought of
myself that way.
"Can I touch it?" she asked.
I nodded. I was feeling too dazed to say a word. Very
gently she reached over the table and put two fingers
on the tip of my cock. She pressed it a little, then
moved her fingers all the way down to the base and back
up again. I just stood there in silence. Erica circled
my cock tentatively with her whole hand and gave a
little squeeze. I must have groaned because she pulled
her hand away and said, "Did I hurt you?"
"No," I said. "It was great."
My voice was cracking. Other kids would have laughed at
me. But Erica just gave me a big smile. Suddenly I
realized she wasn’t going to mock me – she’d just
become my girlfriend, right? I could trust her. I
didn’t have to be afraid. I smiled back and said, "My
turn to touch."
I was thinking I might reach across the table and find
out what her little breasts felt like. But she was
asking me, "You want to go upstairs?"
I started to pick up my clothes. Then I realized Erica
was heading up the stairs wearing nothing more than the
half-bikini. So I dropped my clothes again and
followed. For a second I wondered if by upstairs, she
meant the bathroom. But when I got to her bedroom door,
there she was perched on the edge of her bed, clutching
Arthur between her breasts.
"Come in, loverboy," she said.
I didn’t know what to do, so I sat down beside her. The
horses that used to decorate her walls had been
replaced by posters of Orlando Bloom, but she still had
a collection of stuffed toys piled on a chair.
Awkwardly I put my arm around her shoulders. I could
feel Arthur next to her skin. My cock was jutting up so
high it bounced a couple of times off my stomach. She
seemed to be waiting for me to do something. But what?
"Can I lie down?" I said.
For answer she pushed me gently over onto my back and
straddled me. My cock was now poking up in front of her
bikini briefs. She tossed Arthur onto the floor, saying
"Goodbye, aardvark." Then she leaned down and kissed
me. This time I kept my mouth open, and her teeth
banged into mine. Then, don’t ask me how, teeth became
irrelevant and our tongues met with delight. I felt her
breasts touching my own chest. I closed my eyes. When I
opened them again, she was looking at me.
"Don’t you like what you see?" she asked.
"You still have some clothes on," I answered. I didn’t
know if she would really take her last item off, but as
soon as I’d spoken she sat up and slithered out of her
bikini bottom. Like me, she had a light growth of hair
down there. I wanted to feast my eyes on her cunt but
she dropped her body onto me again and began to kiss me
wet and hard. It was all I could do to stop her
slurping the tongue out of my mouth. Somehow my hands
found her breasts and began to play with them. When she
stopped for breath, I moved my mouth down onto her left
breast and started to lick and suck like crazy. She was
making strange noises, I noticed, but for a minute I
kept on sucking.
"How far – oh – oh my God – how far – d’you wanna go?"
"All the way," I said. I didn’t care if that was the
wrong thing to say – I was feeling stronger and braver
than I’d ever felt in my life. And instead of
protesting, she said "OK," shifted position and grabbed
my cock. This time she didn’t handle it tentatively;
she placed her mouth right on the head, pulled it in,
and started to suck.
It was the best feeling in the universe. It was fire
and chocolate all at once. This was my cock’s proper
home: Erica’s mouth. I began to twist and writhe on the
bed but she kept her mouth slithering up and down my
cock. Within a few seconds I knew I couldn’t stop
myself. "Oh God," I said. "God! I’m gonna come!"
She pulled her mouth away just in time. As it was,
spurt after spurt landed on her chin, her neck, her
breasts, her stomach. I fell backwards, not knowing
whether to laugh or cry. "I’m sorry," I finally said.
"I –"
"What are you sorry for?" she interrupted. "That was
awesome. Totally amazing." She wiped her chin with a
finger and licked it. "Tastes a bit yucky, though. Let
me go get a towel."
She came back a minute later, all cleaned up, and
carrying a big old towel. I was stretched out across
her bed, looking up at Legolas on the ceiling. "They
say young boys are always ready," she remarked. "Is
that true?" I didn’t know what she meant at first, but
then she asked me to get off the bed for a second, so
she could lay the towel on top of the sheets. When
she’d done that, she lay down on her back and opened
her legs wide. "Well, don’t just stand there," she
said. "Fuck me. Fuck me, loverboy."
And hearing those words, looking at the pink moistness
below her tan line – I didn’t even have the right words
yet, except for "cunt" – I grew hard and big again. I
lay down half beside her, half on top of her, and she
showed me where my fingers should explore. I never
realized a girl could be so wet down there. After a
minute I put my mouth where my fingers had been, and
almost immediately Erica started to pant and groan and
whimper. The sounds were so amazing, I almost wanted to
stop and listen. But already she was pulling me away.
"Fuck me," she said again. "Now!"
I straddled her, prouder of what we were doing than I’d
ever been proud of anything. But a little afraid, too.
I thought I knew exactly where my cock should go, and I
was wrong. Erica grabbed hold and pulled me down an
inch or two, till I realized I had entered somewhere
new, something like hot fudge and the ocean all at
once. The feeling was incredible, but my cock had only
gone a little way in. I pushed harder into the wet
tightness and she called out in pain. So I pulled out,
uncertain.
"No!" she said, in a voice that mingled anger and
frustration. "Push! Fuck me! Fuck me!"
So I went back in, and this time I didn’t stop, even
when her cries scared me. After five or six more
thrusts I knew I was deep inside, all the way inside,
and I began to cry out too. I can’t even imagine how
much noise we were making. I kept on thrusting and soon
she was shuddering and moaning and crying and shouting
all at once. Then I spurted out my love juice again.
After that, we were quiet for a minute. I pulled my
cock out but I stayed on top of her, kissing her
eyelids, kissing her lips, kissing her wet cheeks.
"My God," she said at last. "You made so much noise,
you sounded like a baby rhino."
Eventually we cleaned ourselves up. She threw the
stained towel into a laundry bin and we went
downstairs. There were my clothes, lying forlornly on
the carpet. There was Giggles, still waiting at the
back door. There was the outside world, apparently
unchanged. How could this be?
She fetched a tub of chocolate ice cream and we sat in
the TV room, side by side, feeding ourselves and
watching Rug Rats. My mom won’t let me take food into
our TV room, but Erica said she and Kim eat in there
all the time. Then we started to feed each other. And
when I accidentally spilt a spoonful of ice cream on
her breasts, I just had to lick it up. "You’re such a
little kid," she said, and for a second I was mad, but
then we started laughing. And then she accidentally
made sure a splodge of ice cream landed on my cock. And
soon there was ice cream in her hair and in my hair and
on her cunt, and we were sucking and licking each other
all over again. That’s how I discovered what a
tongueful of cunt juice tastes like. That’s how she
discovered it’s not a great idea to have a boy’s semen
land in your eye.
And when we’d both come, and Rug Rats was over, we had
to go take a shower to wash everything off. But Erica
looked and felt so amazing there, with the hot water
pouring off her blonde hair and her naked back, that I
got all hard again. So we started fucking in the
shower, standing up. But we couldn’t figure out how
everything should fit, so we ended up running upstairs
and jumping on her bed again. This time she was on top
and I lay underneath. Our bodies weren’t just clean,
they were squeaky. I kissed her everywhere she didn’t
have a tan, and some places she did, and she taught me
a new word: "clitoris." When we fucked, Erica came so
loudly I thought the neighbours would surely hear and
ring the doorbell to find out what was wrong.
Finally we cuddled and just held each other in our
arms. She picked up the toy Arthur off the floor and
introduced him to my cock. He had his glasses on, and
he took a good long look. "Maybe he’s gay," I said.
"Don’t worry," she said, "he knows every inch of me. My
belly button drives him crazy." "A bisexual aardvark,"
I said. "Whatever next?" "Arthur’s only in Grade 3,"
Erica said. "Don’t corrupt the little guy."
It was past noon, and I knew I’d have to be getting
home before long. What story would I make up for my
mother?
"Just tell her you’ve done the most beautiful thing in
the world," Erica said. "Don’t be ashamed! Why is it
that grown-ups never want kids to make love? Why are
they so selfish about it?"
"So, are you going to tell your parents when they get
home?"
"OK, maybe not," she admitted. "They still think I’m
sweet and innocent."
"I guess they don’t believe kids are ready for sex."
"That’s crazy," she said. "I am so ready now."
"Anyway," I said, "if you add up our ages, we’re 25."
"Too old," she said. "Way too old. Right now I don’t
want any lover over the age of 12." And with that, she
dived down the bed to see if my cock was getting hard
again. Which it was. She rolled it around in her mouth
and took it deeply in her throat. "Loverboy," she said
when she came up for air. "Oh! Oh fuck!" Because I was
just discovering that if I opened my lips really wide
and squeezed tenderly with my hand, I could fit an
entire breast into my mouth.
My God, I thought, there’s so much I still have to
discover. So much pleasure. So much joy.
END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 30