WARNING: This is a story of pure fiction, involving sexual
contact between a minor teenage male and a minor female. If this
subject offends you, close this page NOW! If you choose to read
on you must be 18 years or older. If you are not LEAVE!!!

All names are purely fictional and any similarity to any person
living or dead is coincidental.


Barbara 1 : Rites of Passage

By Romany

(T/g � hand, oral)


Chapter 1: - Beginning My Sexual History


I grew up on a small island off the mainland. There was a grade
school for the local children but we had to go to the mainland
for high school education. This meant going to one of the two
boarding schools in the nearest city, which had residential
dormitories, or to stay privately with families eager to make a
few extra dollars hosting students by attending a non-residential
high school. My parents chose the non-residential option as it
was considerably cheaper for them.

I went to live with a family who had advertised for lodgers. They
were a nice family called Kincaid - Martin and Phyllis and their
two children, Jarrod (14) and Barbara (11). They were Catholic
and regular churchgoers and the whole religious appeal of this
convinced my mother they would be ideal. In reality they were
ordinary folk who attended weekly mass out of religious dogma,
without any real Christian convictions - though certainly
Christian in the socially responsible sense (as we mostly are). I
settled in quickly as the environment was much like our own home
life and I saw the rest of that year through until the holidays
without any real incident of note.

Jarrod was a shrimp. Somewhat underdeveloped physically and I
discovered he was hard of hearing due to a congenital hearing
defect. He was almost somewhat reclusive from the family,
preferring to stay in his room and study or read. Martin
considered him a genius. It was true he always pulled straight
A's in tests and his teachers raved about his future. I was a
good reinforcement for Martin's belief in his son, as my grades
were average and I seemed to be more interested in sport. I was
comfortable in the negative comparison with Jarrod as I thought
the kid was a nerd at best anyway. So he being who he was, and me
not really giving a shit, left the balance of the universe
undisturbed. He was a little morose towards me, as he had to
share his bedroom with a complete stranger. His natural reticence
ensured any attempt I made to kindle a friendly relationship was
met with indifference. So we struck a happy median. I ignored
him; he ignored me. He couldn't hear me properly anyway so it was
an amicable outcome.

Barbara was the shining star of the family in my book. She was
just short of her 12th birthday and a very gregarious happy young
girl. She was bright and cheery and I could always seem to have
the conversations about nothing with her that eluded Jarrod and
me. The first inkling I gave myself that I saw Barbara as
anything other than a little girl came one day when I had arrived
in from school at about 4:10pm. Rather than go straight through
to my room to dump my school gear, I slumped in an easy chair in
the family room to catch a cartoon playing on TV. Barbara was
working on some project in front of the fireplace, facing more or
less towards me with her back to the warmth from the flames. She
had scissors and glue and paper spread out around her and was
obviously constructing something for school. Occasionally she
turned to watch the TV, then back to the cutting and glue. She
was crouching on her haunches and from where I was sitting I
could see the white strip of panties between her thighs as she
balanced on her feet in this squat position. I have no idea why
this would be a comfortable position for her but she balanced
perfectly without wavering.

As I realised what I was looking at, I stared and tried to
discern the contours her underpants were making on her anatomy.
She was turned away looking at the TV. I stared for some seconds
then saw her move and I looked up. She had turned back and was
now looking directly at me. I blushed at having been caught but I
still don�t think she realised what the view I had was, and bent
to place the cut-out she was snipping at on the board she had set
up as a palette. It was at this point when she appeared to be
pondering her work that she must have realised what I was staring
at. I noted she initially moved to close her slightly parted
thighs, then she stopped and feigning adjusting herself for
comfort, she splayed them a little further. She then looked up at
me, and smiled fleetingly when she saw me looking at her crotch;
then she deliberately turned and looked at the TV.

�My god. She is deliberately flashing me now,� I thought. I could
see more now, with the clear rim of one leg of her panties
against her inner thigh, and the decided mound of her lower
pubis.

�Geez, I�m starting to get a hard-on,� I thought, as my cock
slowly stirred. An eleven-year-old girl flasher was turning me
on!! Having been initiated by 60�s Playboys and stolen moments
with my parent�s copy of Lady Chatterley�s Lover and a dirty copy
of Henry Miller�s Tropic of Capricorn under my bed, my sexual
fixations were for full grown women, or at least their attributes
projected on girls my own age at school. But here I was feeling
aroused to this young middle school girl. For the next fifteen
minutes or so that the cartoon ran, I sat and frequently glanced
up this girl�s dress. She in turn made no effort to catch me at
it and moved sufficiently nonchalantly to expose her underwear
and crotch to my best advantage. This situation was finally
broken when Jarrod arrived through the door from his school.
Barbara actually stood at this point and a brief discussion
started with her older brother. Some minor sibling spat, which
allowed me the chance to rise and leave. I went into the bedroom
and dumped my bag and started to change my clothes. Jarrod
arrived in shortly and as we were not that communicative at the
best of times, we descended into silence as we took out books and
journals to start homework. I kept thinking about Barbara and her
brazen display. After about 30 minutes of silent study, Barbara
came into the room and after giving me a quick knowing glance,
proceeded to have another fractious debate with Jarrod. I watched
curiously as I thought she was really just re-treading her point
of view on some household chore roster that she had been arguing
in the family room. I also noted that her school dress had been
raised at least 2 inches on her. I smiled inwardly. �She�s
posing,� I decided. �Putting on a display of charms�.

The debate ended when Jarrod ignored her by turning back to his
study. She turned slowly and looking directly at me, walked
slowly back towards the door. I stared at her and brazenly looked
her up and down. She would know her dress adjustment had not gone
unnoticed. She lasted about 10 seconds looking at me before a
degree of awkwardness forced her to turn her head away as she
exited the room. I pondered this rapid change in my opinion of
this young girl. I considered her now as at the lower end of my
desirable female preference. She had no apparent breasts, no
matter how hard I tried to imagine, but she was very pretty with
shoulder length raven hair and light green eyes. She was taller
than average but not skinny. In fact she had a nice butt and her
thighs were really slim, with a lithe figure. More importantly,
she was here! I could study her at close quarters and assess her
as I went. That night I jacked off thinking about her. I had no
real concept of her body except she was definitely the closest to
seeing a girl�s crotch for a long time. Over the next few days a
sublimal sexual dance started to happen between us. Looks,
glances, posing on her part, and a steady interest in her on
mine. She had definitely smartened up her appearance and was
attempting to portray herself as older than she was. The next
situation developed quite suddenly. Some friends of the Kincaid�s
had turned up in town unexpectedly and they dropped by for a
visit. While the two families were making conversation, I retired
to the lounge to watch TV in peace. Barbara had been wearing
loose baggy pants and a roll neck sweater. After I had settled in
watching some boring documentary she arrived in the room. She had
changed her baggies for a short black skirt. She had a schoolbook
with her, and despite their being plenty of chairs she took one
of the seat cushions and flopped down on the floor directly in
front of me. For the next 30 minutes she fidgeted and rolled and
messed about on the floor, all to allow me to see up her skirt
while she pretended to read. Occasionally she checked to see if I
was watching by reaching around to scratch her ankle. On one
occasion she actually sat up and splayed her legs towards me
while fussing over some "itchy insect bite" as she put it. On
this occasion, instead of the plain white cotton underpants, she
had on a light pink nylon pair.

I remembered the fuss her father made when her Aunt Helen has
sent them as a Xmas gift as "she was growing into a big girl now
Martin". This had caused a bit of a fuss and Phyllis sided with
Helen and trivialized Martin's objection. But the panties were
branded by the fracas. And they were flimsy enough that I was
able to discern the crack of her butt as she crouched before me
while pretending to read her book, leaning forward on her elbows.
She was feigning subtlety, but failing miserably. I lapped it up
of course. Making sure she saw I was eyeing her whenever she
checked back to see if I was taking in the view. This was the
first I realised the fullness of the female vulvas region from
the rear. [A sight that I would come to revel in as I grew into
manhood.] Alas the display was curtailed by Jarrod�s arrival and
the start of "I Love Lucy". Eventually all the adults drifted our
way to watch the TV, and after it finished I drifted off to the
bedroom and flopped on the bed. I had made some sort of a hit
with this young preteen and she was lapping up the attention.

Chapter 2: - First Contact

I wrestled with the pros and cons of this developing desire for
her. How to progress the thirst for knowledge on the female
anatomy without becoming pervert or a child molester. Of course
that argument was quickly discounted, as I was only 15 myself.
Add 5 years to both of us and the age gap wouldn�t be such a big
deal. But prepubescent girls were off limits to even
mid-teenagers who were not much older than them. I had a
situation where I believed she was going to be discrete and I
just knew from her approach she was conscious of disguising her
interest in me from the rest of the family. The first real
opportunity to be with her alone came with some skilful
manipulation on her part. The Kincaid�s often went on day outings
of a Sunday, with a divorced friend of theirs. Hector would have
visiting rights with his daughter Donna and son Tony every
Sunday. The Kincaid�s often accompanied him on trips to a small
cottage he had by a lake, about an hours drive from town.
Unbeknownst to me, Barbara and Donna (who was 13) had experienced
some friction on previous trips, and Barbara had convinced her
mother she was best to stay and do some study for a major
test-week starting the following week. I became aware of this on
the Saturday when Phyllis was insisting Barbara would be going to
the cottage along with everybody else. Somehow I heard my name
mentioned and I was a bit surprised to see I was in this debate.
Barbara had a plausible solution. She wanted to study for the
tests. Her family had no argument with her wanting to do well.
And she said that if I was not going out, I was as good as a
babysitter for the day (though the actual word babysitter was
carefully avoided by her!) Through the Saturday evening the
debate continued until it was finally Martin who started to see
her point of view. By the time they all returned from Sunday's
early Mass, it was settled. Martin confirmed that as I was
staying home to study then I would be there to mind their
daughter. It was all set. I was humbled in admiration as to the
manner in which she pulled it off but I was determined I would
not let her down.

At 9:30am Hector arrived and ambled into the house with his son
and daughter in tow.  I looked at his rather plain daughter
Donna. For a thirteen year old she had very well developed
breasts. I suspected she had a crush on me and I tried to avoid
being in close proximity. She asked if I was going with them and
scowled when I said no but cheered up again when she learned
Barbara was not coming either. She then scowled again as the
realisation hit her that Barbara would be home alone with me.
Barbara fluffed around the fringes of the melee of family getting
picnic baskets, blankets and assorted sports equipment, and
everyone crammed into the van. Phyllis kissed her and looking at
me, said, �and Stevie will tell us if you slack off and don�t
study� and she winked at me. They all bade their farewells,
Martin reminding they would be home by 4:30. Barbara had
instructions to prepare vegetables for dinner, to speed up the
preparation of the evening meal.  By 10:00am we were alone. I had
gone back into the house before they left and was lying back on
my bed. I felt some apprehension about this day, as I knew that
Barbara had wanted this to happen. I wasn�t sure what she had in
mind. How far she would take what already had occurred between
us. I had hastily pulled some clothes on when Hector and the kids
arrived. I wasn�t Catholic so Mass was not part of my Sunday
repertoire. I decided I would shower and get dressed again. I
went into the bathroom and dropped a change of clothes on the
floor. She had come inside after bidding the family farewell and
as her bedroom door was right adjacent to the bathroom door, she
saw me enter with a bundle of clothes and a large towel.

�Are you going to have a bath Stevie,� she asked.

�No. Just a quick shower,� I answered.

�OK. It�s just that mum said I need to have a bath, before they
all come home; and she and Jarrod take their bath. To ensure
enough hot water,� she added.

�No sweat Barbs,� I answered cheerily. There will be plenty for
both of us and time for the hot water to recover for them to,� I
said.

We made awkward eye contact. She knew. I knew. But who to make
the first move. Well I suppose the thought of us both getting
naked albeit behind the bathroom door at separate times was a
start. Then I had a brainwave. The copy of Henry Miller�s Tropic
of Capricorn under my bed. I had read and reread the sex scenes
over and over so much my hand and cock had ached regularly from
too much masturbation. I left the door to the bathroom open and
raced to my room. I dropped to the floor and retrieved my
suitcase and took the dog-eared copy of the book out. I pushed
the suitcase back and I quickly thumbed through until the most
read descriptive sex pages fell open, and I slipped small pieces
of paper in as a book mark. I walked out and down the hall to the
bathroom and dropped the book onto the pile of clothes. I would
leave this displayed on top of my clean clothes, which were
placed neatly by the hand basin pedestal. All being equal, she
would see it but I needed to get her to go into the bathroom
briefly, some how. I was banking on the fact that she would
wonder why I was taking a book into the shower and she would
suspect it was meant for her to see. She wouldn�t know who Henry
Miller was, or of the book�s reputation as a sizzler. But I
banked on the fact that she would pick it up and soon find out
what was inside, from the bookmarks I made.

�Barb do you want to use the bathroom before I shower?� I asked
as I leaned into her room.

She was sitting on the bed with one foot draped off onto the
floor; wearing the dress she had worn to Mass and showed an
expanse of leg.

�Oh alright. I might clean my teeth,� she said somewhat curiously
as to why I made the effort for her to use the bathroom.


�Right. Be in. I�ll be a minute or two� and as I gave her a
steady look, I retreated along the hall a pace or two to my room.
I waited about five minutes and when I came out into the hall,
the bathroom door was pushed nearly closed. I tiptoed up to it.

�Are you finished Barb� I asked.

�Err�no�not yet. Give me a few minutes,� she nervously answered.
I heard scuffling and I hoped she was reading the marked pages
and putting the book down again. Then I heard water running and
she was now obviously brushing her teeth.

Eventually she came out and had this really guilty look on her
now red face. I knew she had peeked at the book.

�All finished?� I asked.

�Y,yes�yes� she stammered. �Ok thanks�.

�Don�t want to wash my back do you?� I asked jokingly.

She blushed at my remark, as I did as soon as I realised what I
had said. It just popped out without thinking. She giggled but I
think she was too embarrassed to give a response, which would
either propel us into a situation faster than I think we were
prepared to go. Or alternately give an answer that may choke off
the moment. She disappeared into the bedroom and I went into the
bathroom and closed the door. I had placed the book upside down
on the clothes. She had definitely picked it up because it was
now cover side up and there were two of the small paper bookmarks
on the floor near the wall. I went to the sections I knew had
been marked, but where there was now no paper. Yesssss! The
passage where Henry spies on his naked baby sitter and eventually
entices her to blow him; and a description of �back scuttling� or
doggie sex. Favorite stroke passages for me. I was particularly
delighted she�d cruised the blowjob passage.

I undressed and reached for my toilet bag, which was kept in the
bathroom cupboard with other various toiletries and first aid
items. I provided my own toiletries and these were kept separate
from the family items on the bath side and shower shelf. I opened
it to get the shampoo out when to my absolute amazement I saw
there was a small pamphlet from a tampon packet inside the bag. I
took it out and whistled low to myself. She was really catching
the moment. I opened the piece of stiff paper up, and it showed a
cut-away diagram of the female anatomy with instruction of how to
use the tampon. I grinned to myself. This was really another
giant step forward. I felt buoyant as I stepped under the shower.
I washed and soaped myself and for some minutes, languidly jacked
my hard cock with a slick soapy hand. There were times I wanted
to cum but I was somehow sure that would eventually happen and
somehow Barbara would be a party to it today. Eventually I had no
reason to stay in the shower any longer so I turned it off and
stepped out and dried myself. I quickly dressed and gathering up
my dirty clothes, my damp towel and the book, I opened the door
and walked out. I moved a few paces and looking in her door saw
she was lying fully back on the bed with her knees drawn up. I
sensed she had assumed this pose when she heard the bathroom door
latch click. I was sure she had been waiting. She was far enough
away for me not to see any detail of her underwear and I was not
able to discern any color. I presumed she had mostly plain white
cotton panties with maybe a couple of navy blue pair. I also knew
she had received a pair of nylon panties from her Aunt Helen. But
I could not discern that color either. I couldn�t stand in the
hall staring, so reluctantly I had to move off. But I paused for
a moment.

�You can have the bathroom now Barb,� I said. She was looking
directly at me.

�Not right now� she responded. Maybe early afternoon� she
continued.

This brief conversation justified my tarrying on the spot. It was
then I realised why I could not see a flash of color between her
legs. She had no underwear on! She was really flashing me. I was
certain she was bare. If she had hit puberty, I am sure there
would have been a shock of pubic hair given the hair on her head
was so dark. She looked at me steadily. But it was gloomy under
her dress despite her splayed legs. I couldn�t see accurately
enough to actually make out her sex.

�Oh God what to do� I silently panicked. I had no option but to
move off. I took another halting step then the book fell from
under the towel in the bundle of clothes I was carrying. I heard
it fall but something made me pretend I missed it. I walked
quickly along the hall to the bedroom and in through the door. My
heart was thumping like mad. This was moving faster than I had
hoped. Could I keep up with her? What was she thinking of me? She
must think I am a complete doofus, fleeing as I did. Did she not
realise I was not certain she was without underwear? She may have
been wearing some near flesh tone panties and I would make a
right idiot if I pushed the boundaries too far thinking she was
egging me on; when in fact she may have been innocently lying on
her bed. But now the book was lying in the hall and I hoped she
would find it and take it as a sign. Once inside my room I
stopped and considered what this might mean. I�d best go back and
get or else it would further push us down a slippery slope on
which I felt we were now starting to run to fast on. Too late.
There was a light tap on the half open door and she pushed her
head around the side. She held the book out.

�You dropped this,� she said matter of factly.

I swallowed hard. Silence. As I didn�t move she stepped into the
room and thumbed the pages like a gambler does a pack of cards.
The book caught on one spot mid way through. Most likely a much
read sex passage, which had creased the paperback's spine so it
flopped open there automatically. She looked at it. �Oh God� I
screamed silently. She�s reading it.

�It�s really not a bad book,� she added. Looking up at me
expectantly. She wanted dialogue, or some sort of conversation.
"I had a quick look in the bathroom. I hope you don't mind,� she
added.

�No�no. It's OK. I stammered. Are you sure it's�you know... OK?�
I asked. "I mean is it�um�I mean what�um what parts have you
read�.err�do you like�?�

My voice was almost cracking now and it trailed off. �Dummy� I
screamed silently at myself. �Of course she hasn�t read it. She�s
only spot checked a few dirty bits� I silently continued to
admonish my stupid comment.

�The baby sitter part,� she answered and looked deliberately at
me. She meant the blowjob passage. Silence.

�What do you think about it,� I finally said.

�About what?� she asked. �The book itself, or what she...she was
doing for him?� and stared me straight in the eye.

�Ah, yes�the book�or���I gulped. �No, no�err�what was happening
on that page,� I added.

She giggled her little girl giggle and in that instant I was
lost. The lilt of her giggle reached into my chest and grabbed my
heart. God I loved her for her candor alone, let alone they way
she drew me along. She saw the humor to this situation, which was
driving me mad with embarrassment. An eleven-year-old girl was
leading me into discussing a Henry Miller book where the topic
was oral sex.

�Would she do that just as he described,� she asked. �I mean
there didn�t seem to be a real series of events leading up to
it,� she emphasized the word �it�.

�I, I don�t know� I stammered. �Maybe. I mean they were adults
and�well, maybe this was quite normal back then,� I added.

I was getting a bit more in tune with her discussion point. She
had now moved further into the room and she was standing at arms
length.

�What you mean it was basically always something that would
happen between men and women. Just like that?� she asked.

�Yes. Yes I think so. There was a point when she knew he had
peaked at her in the bathroom�through the keyhole,� I said
becoming easier about the discussion. �And then she went out into
the sitting room and�well�you know�things developed,� I said a
bit more in control now.

�She sucked his dick,� she blurted out.

She had crossed the pale of conversation on the topic. No going
back to pussy footing around what we both knew the passage
contained.

�That�s right. She maybe had the hots for him for some time,� I
stated matter-of- factly.

This wasn�t so hard.

�So she knew he would spy on her as a way to, you know, get him
to turn onto her which is what she wanted too,� I added.

My displaying the book as opening gambit was now starting to
materialize. Barbara then blew me away. She slowly raised the hem
of her dress. Of course I was looking at her face and for a split
second I wondered why the silence and the peculiar look she was
giving me. For some reason I glanced down and saw what she was
doing. Without a word she hiked the dress up higher and I
confirmed my earlier belief she had no underwear on. She pulled
it past her groin to her waist. I looked down and my mouth went
dry. There was the most exquisite meeting of her slim legs and
beautiful hairless preteen sex, and I will never forget that
sight to this day. The vulva�s lips were slightly parted at the
top defining her slit and her pubis was full and chubby. The tops
of the outer lips were thick and there was a small pinkish
wrinkle inside the dark crack, which were the smaller inner lips.
She was developing just enough, prior to puberty, for them to
peek below the larger lips. I stared at her sex and swallowed
hard. My heart was thumping and I was aware my cock was slowly
growing inside my y-fronts in my jeans. I looked back at her
face. She had a very matter of fact look as if this was the
natural thing to do. How long had she planned this? Not just the
being alone scenario, but the actual seduction. Because seduction
it was. I was the one being seduced in this situation. Oh yeah I
played my part but she had out-thought and exceed me so far, that
I was the obvious novice. She could do or say whatever she wanted
now, and I would comply. I had no guts to take the lead. She was
far more adept at leading me.

�I�m like the baby sitter in the book,� she said. �She wanted him
to come onto her. I want you��� her voice trailed off. �You
know��

I swallowed hard again.

What�what do you want?� I asked almost in a whisper.

�Anything you can think of. Teach me,� she answered.

Geez what did I really know? This was a few years before
Penthouse forum. All my sex was imagined and implied in
adolescent conversations with my buddies. And Henry was no help
now. She slowly closed the arms-length gap between us and was now
virtually touching me. It wasn�t the best spot to view her sex so
I sat back on the bed and regarded her again. It was so inviting
and she had said �anything�. Tentatively I reached a hand forward
and let the fingertips slowly brush the pubis. She smiled and
looked down. I slowly turned my palm up and I let the middle
finger of my right hand trace the crease of her vulva. She was
expectant. I continued to slowly stroke my finger and the lips
parted with the increasing pressure. I was astonished how far
back the gap went and my hand disappeared under her. She eased a
leg and allowed my hand more freedom. I felt the opening of the
vagina at the bottom end of the slit and pushed my hand up so the
finger dipped the tip into her. I then dragged it forward now
parting the lips easily as I moved my fingers, now two of them,
back and forth. This was no feeble touch anymore. I was now
stroking quite firmly. But she was dry. Neither of us understood
female libido. She had now parted her legs to give me complete
unfettered access but her arms were drooping from holding the
dress.

She motioned to the bed with her hips. I caught her inference and
moved along the side of the bed and she crawled beyond me and up
onto the bed. Finally she lay on her back and opened her legs.
The dress had returned to just above her knees and she grabbed it
and pulled the hem to lie on her stomach, exposing herself to me
again. I turned towards her and run my hand now palm down, up her
inner thigh to her sex and pushed the lips apart again. For some
minutes I ran my fingers in and out of the folds of her sex. I
never knew of the whereabouts of the clitoris, and I don�t think
she did either. I vaguely knew the clitoris existed but I wasn't
sure she did. I was able to more easily attempt to insinuate a
finger into her tight dry vagina but she grunted her discomfort
when I pushed to far too soon. It was clear she was never going
to take my fingers comfortably so we needed some lubrication. I
knew the jokes about fags and Vaseline and thought, "why not
girls to?" I had never heard of KY or any of the proprietary
personal lubricants at this point in my life however I knew there
was a jar of Vaseline in the bathroom cabinet where I kept my
toilet bag.

�Wait� I said and rushed out of the room to the bathroom,
returning in a minute with the small jar. She was lying with her
legs apart and knees up slightly and I caught her touching
herself where my fingers had previously been. She touched her
fingers to her nose. I unscrewed the lid and took a generous
dollop onto my fingertips. I leaned towards her and slowly
introduced the greasy compound into the vulvas lips near the top
of the slit, then pushing down and back to the vagina's opening.
She lifted her hips and let out a little sigh as she felt the
cool gel hit her flesh. And how the slickness was causing her to
actually welcome the fingers which had previously been irritating
her; though she never admitted it to me until some time
afterwards. I replenished the tips of my fingers with Vaseline
twice more. I noted the gel dispersed quite quickly as her body
warmth allowed it to spread. I stroked her for some considerable
time. The feeling was becoming delicious and I was entranced as I
was slowly spreading her open. She watched me intently and
occasionally I looked into her face and we smiled. Gradually I
was able to work my middle finger into her vagina up to the
second knuckle. She was tight but the lubrication relieved the
earlier discomfort she felt. I got another dollop of Vaseline
onto my middle and index finger and rubbed the gel over the two
fingers length. Then I inserted first the middle finger, and with
some care, the index finger as well. I slowly fingered her for at
least 5-6 minutes. Each time the effectiveness of the lubricant
began to wane I took more onto my fingers and reinserted them.
She lifted her hips off the bed. I realised she had found the
best angle of entry and was now overtly assisting her own comfort
of the penetration and finger fucking.

I was hard. My cock was trying to straighten out in my y-front
briefs and pushing up against my upper thigh. I was sitting
sideways on the edge of the bed facing her while my fingers were
as far inside of her as her legs and pubis would allow. My other
fingers and thumb pushed against her body stopped me going any
deeper. I knew about virgins and hymens and I wasn't sure whether
the fingers were in deep enough to threaten the hymen if in fact
hers was still intact. The warmth of her insides was so
incredible and I was in some no-mans-land of emotion; excited
sexually but also excited by the fear of knowing this was very
wrong. Sexually I knew there was another level to get to but not
sure quite how to do it. She was still gazing at me as I ground
her tight hole and surrounding flesh.

"What about you?" she whispered.

My reverie was broken by her voice. I almost jumped at the sound.

"What?" I said somewhat befuddled.

"You. You know. Are you hard?" she asked

I blushed and nodded.

"Can I see?" she asked. "Show me," she instructed before I could
answer.

I guess with two fingers tightly slotted in her preteen vagina,
the least I could do was reciprocate by showing her my erection.
Oddly though I felt a sense of modesty at her suggestion. But
realistically I could not actually refuse. And on the other
level, it was hard and needed some physical release from the
discomfort of my briefs. I also need release sexually. I stood in
a crouch; tethered by the fingers in her vagina. With my free
hand I opened the zipper on my jeans with a degree of difficulty
at the one-handed operation where I usually used two. I fumbled
inside the jeans and found the slit in the y-fronts and gingerly
extricated my swollen cock. Finally I pulled it out into the open
air and then eased my butt back on the bed. She slowly eased
herself up on her elbows and craned as far forward as her prone
position would allow and peered in the direction of my crotch.

"I can't see it properly,� she said with disappointment in her
voice.

My fingers had stopped moving in her as I was now concentrating
on getting my cock for her to see. I leaned my torso back a
little and my cock was now standing erect beyond the flies of the
denim jeans. I looked at her and she had a broad smile on her
face.

"It's big,� she said almost in a whisper.

"Nah not really," I mumbled modestly. "About average."

"You've seen other boys stiffy's?" she asked surprised.

"No. No!" I quickly retorted. "Not stiff. Soft. In the showers,
after gym or football. When we all shower," I explained. "Not
when we are hard,� I added with faint contempt at the suggestion
I had seen other boys erections.

Did she think it was normal to go around erect in open
situations? She frowned a little at the tone in my voice.

"Sorry, I didn�t mean...." and she tapered off realizing somehow
she had offended me.

Silence. It was now a little static so to restart the effect we
had created I slowly began to push my fingers in and out in her
vagina. She realised the distraction of our conversation and we
became silent as I leaned back towards her and watched my fingers
now pumping quite easily into her. After a minute or two she
spoke again, in a soft voice.

"Stevie. Could you come onto the bed and I can touch you too?�
she suggested.

A good suggestion I thought. I slowly eased my fingers from her
cunt and stood up from my sitting position on the bedside; my
cock swaying as I moved. She was still on lying back her elbows
and as I moved further nearer the top of the bed to prepare to
lie beside her, she reached for me. I jumped as I felt her hand
take me and then realizing what she was doing I stood still and
placed my hands on my hips. She rolled off her elbows and using
her arm nearest me as a prop, as she now lay on her side stroking
my cock as I stood beside the bed. At first she held me like she
was shaking hands and this soon became awkward and tiring to her.
She quickly changed her grip to a dagger-type grip and this was
much easier for her. What can I say? This was pure bliss
emotionally and physically. Sadly I wasn't up to it and she was
about a minute into regular stroking when the orgasm hit. I
couldn't stop myself and I gasped and groaned loudly as the
ejaculation took over. My cum flew in a series of thick spurts
hitting her in the face and chest. She squealed in surprise and
recoiled as the cum hit her again and again and I groaned and
gasped while jerking my hips. She had let me go and I quickly
grasped her hand and placed it back on me. She recovered from the
surprise of the onslaught and I coached her hand to milk the last
remaining drops, which oozed out of the head and slid down onto
her upper hand. She was now composed in what she was doing and I
finally smiled and she took this as a sign it was finished. She
sat up and surveyed the scene. There were two large fingers of
cum on her cheek and in close to her nose on one side of her
face; hitting her as she had started to turn away from the
spurts. There was another thicker wad in her hair near her ear
which had hit when she had completely turned away. The less
powerful spurts had hit her dress on one side and a few drops on
the bedspread and of course a smear on the top of her hand
between the index finger and thumb. I had a couple of small drops
on my flies flap. She sat and grinned.

"Wow. That was cool," she gushed. "So strong for you," she added.

I smiled. "It was so great Barbs,� I agreed. "Are you OK?� I
asked.

I brushed my fingers over her sex.

"Yep. Of course. I'm fine" she answered and started to touch her
face where the cum was quickly starting to streak down towards
her jaw line.

"I mean are you OK with what we are doing?" I asked.

She grinned and nodded her head. "I wanted this...today�you
know..." she said.

I did know what she meant. I reached forward and lifted the hair
near the wad of cum, which was now slowly running down the
strands it had matted together like thick glue. She turned as if
to try and see what I could see but I couldn't twist her hair
around enough to show her. She had taken her fingertips and
scraped the two streaks from her face. She held her fingertips up
and looked at the residue of the cum. Almost involuntarily She
sniffed her fingers as a reflex action.

"Smells musty,� she said.

"Does it taste like pea soup?" I asked without thinking. She
touched her tongue to her fingers and tasted it.

"No, no" I blurted out. "I was joking, I didn't mean...�

Too late. She licked some more and soon she had cleaned her
fingers with her tongue.

"It does taste a little like pea soup," she said.

I was still holding her hair. She had blown me away with this
simple act of faith. She was such a gutsy kid. I leaned forward
and lightly nuzzled her hair on the wet cum spot as a reciprocal
show of faith. I moved my face around to hers and she giggled and
licked the dampness on my nose. We stopped and gazed at each
other, up close. I slowly twisted my head a little and leaned
forward and kissed her; lightly at first, and then when she
engaged properly we kissed more firmly for some minutes. The bond
was complete. We were lovers.


Chapter 3: - Gaining Courage

I broke the kiss and went to my dresser for a handkerchief. I
returned and sitting on the bed I wetted it with saliva and
dabbed at the spots of cum on her dress. There was still a drying
smear on her cheek. I suggested we adjourn to the bathroom and
she rolled off the bed and we trouped to the basin and I took a
face cloth and run it under the warm faucet. I wiped her face and
dabbed her dress. She stopped me working on the dress.

"I'll put it in the laundry later," she said. "I'll slop water on
it and tell mom I got it wet when running my bath".

She took the washcloth from me and holding her hair, drew the
cloth up and down the spot where the cum had hit here. Soon we
had cleaned up so we couldn't see any sign of what had been
there. My cock had retreated inside my jeans but still outside my
y-fronts.

"Come on" she said taking me by the hand. "It's only a quarter
past eleven."

She led me along the hall to my room and she climbed up on the
bed nearest the wall. I lay down beside her and as I was
adjusting myself she reached up her arms and we embraced. I took
her in my arms, lying half over her, and we started to make out.
We spent some time just kissing and making out. Using the time to
get used to the act and gain maximum enjoyment from it. It wasn't
long before I felt my erection returning and as if to signal the
arrival, I moved my crotch against her thigh. Her eyes opened and
she broke the kiss and smiled.

"Who�s that?" she whispered.

"My friend...your friend Dick," I answered smugly.

"My friend Dick!" she said. "What does he want?" she asked in a
mock voice.

"He wants to go visiting his friend,� I answered.

"Who�s his friend" she queried.

"You are, remember?" I answered.

"And where will he visit me?" she continued.

I looked into her eyes and placed a hand on the knee of her
nearest leg. While gazing into her eyes, I slowly ran my hand up
her thigh and rested on her vulva. Her legs were lightly pressed
together and she moved the leg nearest the wall away, opening her
crotch up. I slid my hand in further and the two fingers, which
had entered her before slid back into their old position. She
adjusted herself and eased her hips up to allow better access. I
could now push home, back to the second knuckle. The Vaseline had
mostly dried away but she was still slick enough not to cause the
earlier discomfort. I slowly worked my fingers in and out and we
returned to making out. She broke the kiss as she pressed her
thigh against my hard cock.

"Does he want to visit now?� she asked softly.

"Yes he does,� I replied quietly.

The truth was my cock was sore from the power of the erection. I
had been pressing against her while fingering her. I now wanted
to fuck her. Neither of us had been in this territory before. How
best to proceed? I took the initiative.

"Take your dress off,� I instructed.

She broke our embrace and I sat back as she sat upright on the
bed. She struggled to get the dress over her head as she was
sitting on it. After trying to ease off the bed and release the
trapped garment, she became impatient with the lack of success at
her efforts and stood on the floor and easily drew it over her
head and dropped it. She stood naked except for a plain white
vest, which stopped at her navel. She drew her hands across her
chest and held her upper arms in a stance as if covering her
non-existent breasts; an odd pose given she was naked from the
waist down. I drew my polo shirt over my head and then removed my
Levis. I stood somewhat ridiculously in a plain pair of y-front
briefs with my erect cock jutting out. She giggled at the sight.
I took a step towards her and wiggled my hips. The cock swayed
with my body movement. She reached for it and started to jack me
while looking down at her hand sliding the foreskin back and
forth. I put my hands on her shoulders and with gentle but
distinct pressure, eased her into a kneeling position on the
floor with her back to the bed. She was jacking me steadily and
had her face up close observing the foreskin covering, and then
revealing the pink mushroom head. I could sense the first drops
of precum and she saw them at the same time. She stopped jacking
and studied the clear viscous liquid on the cock head. She
touched a finger to it and then I saw she rubbed the finger on
her thumb. She laughed softly and looked up at me.

"Slippery," she said.

"Lubrication," I answered. "Nature's way."

She took the finger and smeared the accruing droplets onto the
head. She quickly caught onto my comment about the lubrication.
Soon the precum had slowed but she had it smeared all over the
head of the cock. She looked back at me, beautiful face looking
up.

"He's dressed for visiting now,� she whispered. I nodded
agreement.

Truth is I wanted to cum. She rose and climbed back onto the bed.

"Wait" I said sharply and dropped to my knees.

I reached under the bed and pulled my suitcase out. I kept a few
redundant pieces of clothing in here as well as where I stashed
the Henry Miller book. I took out a large beach towel I used for
the swimming baths. She wrinkled her face in curiosity. I
unfolded the towel and lay it over the bedspread. I had thought
of this moment numerous times. She was a virgin and quite
probably she would bleed. I couldn't have her in the bed, as the
sheets would easily show the blood. And the bedspread was a light
lemon color so that was just as bad. The towel had a large Pluto
Pup type dog sitting on a beach with the words "Cool Dog" on the
bottom. She scooted back with her shoulders against the wall
while I spread the towel out on the bedspread. This was hardly a
romantic interlude, but one which I knew was necessary. She lay
on the towel with her head just touching the wall, once she saw I
was finished smoothing it out. I eased onto the bed beside her
and we spent a little time kissing. Almost a token
acknowledgement of some semblance of romance. I started stroking
her again without penetrating and she took my cock again and
started slowly jacking. To my surprise more precum dribbled out
and she quickly slicked it over my hard cock. She caught on fast.
I was ready. But to be on the safe side, I rolled away and
retrieved the Vaseline from the nightstand. She started to groan
a complaint as I drew away but stopped when she saw what I was
doing. I smeared a large dollop on my fingers and eased them into
her crack and lined the inner walls. I pushed the residue into
the vagina and when satisfied, wiped my palm a couple of times on
my cock. I was ready.

I stood on the floor between her legs bent off the side of the
bed; feet just touching the floor. I stood between her legs so my
knees touched the side of the bed. I leaned forward over her and
had one hand supporting my upper body as I reached down and
fingered her. She lifted her head to look down her body and by
reaching down between us she took my cock. I moved myself forward
and up as she drew my cock-head to her opening. I sighed as I
felt the head push between the tight lips near the top of the
slit and as I eased forward she drew my cock down to the entrance
of her vagina. The preparation had worked just fine and I was
surprised and delighted at just how greased she was. I slowly
engaged the head in the hole I had worked for the past 20 minutes
or so, and slowly but surely I was able to move into her young
body. She felt the angle was pushing against her and lifted her
hips slightly and adjusted her position by lifting her legs up
and brought the heels of her feet back onto the edge of the bed.
She reached her hands to her ankle and held her legs this way,
while spread at the knees as I stood between her thighs. This
allowed me easier access and if she had never done this before,
her instincts provided a perfect position for me to stand and
push into her. I soon eased further in and I heard her gasp
softly as the angle against her upper slit was causing some
discomfort.

"Wait" she whispered in my ear.

She adjusted herself again and I was able to gain further entry
inside her body. The warmth on my cock was incredible and she was
so tight yet yielding as I eased in, drew back slightly, and then
repeated the advance. For two virgins, we were making a very good
job of the penetration at least. I felt I had gained sufficient
entry to start to slowly fuck her so began a slow deliberated
pumping in and out. I was so hard. This engaged our flesh in a
way where my foreskin had equalized along the shaft after having
been almost painfully pushed back by her tightness. Her insides
had adjusted to the foreign invader. For a few wonderful minutes
we fucked. Slow but steady rhythm and she lifted her hips to keep
the inward thrust at best angle. I realised that now everything
was fitted nicely, I was slowly inching myself deeper with each
inward push. We fucked for a few more minutes and my brain was
trying to calm my cock, which was urging me to pummel this young
kid into sexual oblivion. I mustered all my patience and maturity
to deter the orgasm, which was lurking just outside of the
conscious fucking in and out. It was these last few centimeters
gained through the equalizing of our bodies that I must have come
up against her hymen. I did not realise until one final push in
rhythm and I thought the constriction was because she had eased
her hips back as she had done a couple of times, creating a
resistance. I had passed through by pushing a little harder and
she had got the signal and kept her hips slightly elevated as
best she could. This time I pushed as before and I was taken by
surprise when she cried out and gasped. She twisted and pulled
back from me and a look of alarm covered her pretty face as she
tried to push me off.

"Stop. Stevie stop It hurts�stop it�it hurts" and she sobbed as
she gasped out the words.

I was taken by surprise at this turn of events but she was also
pinned by my body and unable to disengage me to ease the pain she
was feeling. I knew what it must be. I had broken the hymen. The
closeness of my repressed orgasm and the rather immature sexist
attitude that what must happen must happen saw me ignoring her
wishes and instead I pushed harder which brought a sharp squeal
from her lips and she cried out again; now sobbing with tears
flooding her eyes.

"Don't Stevie, stop...it hurts�stop it," she sobbed and feebly
hit my shoulders and arms with her fists.

"It's OK Barbs�hold on�it will pass..." I gasped as I was
frantically trying to engage the impetus of my orgasm and the
previous control I had.

I pushed in and drew back and she cried and tried pushing me off.
But I was to strong and inexorably the orgasm started to hit me
and I forgot about her completely and simply fucked her harder.
She was crying and giving little yelps as the head of my cock
pushed through the gap where the hymen once held a barrier. I was
now fucking her with abandon and finally the exquisite pleasure
at the onrush of orgasm hit me like a sledgehammer. I shagged
deep each spurt and she gasped and sobbed and the hands still
feebly hitting me as she cried. I spent all of my release and
finally collapsed on her. My cock buried deep, still hard as a
board despite the violence of the orgasm. I dropped my head off
to one side of her chest and she lay sobbing; her flat chest
heaving as she sought to control her breathing. She cried with
one hand draped along her side, the other drawn up and back over
her forehead. I was a sexist male pig wheezing and gasping to
regulate my own breathing following my exertions oblivious to her
plight.

For some minutes we stayed this way. I had all but passed out.
She sobbed quietly. As I had stopped fucking her, the sharp jolts
of pain had subsided. The lacerations where the hymen had split
would heal in a short time. Nature�s way. It would never trouble
her again, gone forever. Two virginities lost in one fuck. She
lay under me and eventually my cock softened and slid back to the
entrance of her vagina. She moved a little and it fell out,
hanging down from my hips and dripped a few drops of come onto
the towel. She moved to get out from under me. I rallied and
eased up standing on the floor facing her. She wouldn't look at
my face and she stood and pushed past me and fled out the door.
Given her reaction to the situation, I was hit with a deep sense
of panic.

"Oh my God she was regretting the whole thing. She had lost her
cool. She would tell. The whole thing would come out and I would
be exposed. I had raped an underage girl. It won't matter she was
willing at the start. She was a minor. A kid. Oh Christ. What
would happen?"

I started to mildly hyperventilate as a result of the panic. The
wild ecstatic release of minutes earlier replaced now by the
panic and paranoia starting to consume me. I can't change it. I
can't undo this thing. I can't go back. I sobbed but I was dry
eyed. The fear of disclosure now almost paralyzing me. I finally
composed myself but I was still trembling at the fear of the
consequences of disclosure. I numbly walked out the door with my
cock ridiculously hanging out of my underpants. Stupid. I had
never thought to take them off being as my erection was out and
the act of removal seemed redundant. I looked down and my eyes
opened wider when I saw the smears of deep red blood on my cock.
I stopped, stunned. I swiveled quickly and went back to the bed.
The towel was disheveled from our efforts and Barbs sliding off
the bed to leave. I arranged the towel so I could inspect it for
signs of blood. I did detect a few small drops but apart from
that it seemed clear. Maybe they dripped from me. It must be the
blood and cum were still in her body. My heart sank. On the edge
of the bed quilt I saw a larger drop of blood. It must be
dripping out of her. I traced her steps to the door, peering at
the carpet but saw no more blood. I arrived at her bedroom door
and looked into the room. I couldn�t see all the room so I
stepped in and looked around but no sign of Barbara. I went out
into the hall and walked dully along to the bathroom at the end.
The door was shut and I heard a whimper from inside. I stepped up
to the door and place my ear against it. Silence I turned the
handle and pushed it open. My heart skipped a beat. She was
sitting on the toilet; leaning forwards holding her stomach with
her hands clasped across her lower abdomen.

"Barbs. Are you ok?" I stammered.

She didn't answer but looked at the floor.

"Barbs. Are you alright?� I asked again.

She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand, then
sat up and looked at me.

"Look" she sobbed and she lay back against the cistern and
splayed her legs. My eyes widened in shock as I could see the
smears of deep red blood down the sides of her inner thighs and
the angry streaks of quite liquid blood on her vulva.

"Look" she sobbed again and spread wider. I could see down into
the bowl and the water was a rich red color in patches. The
dripping blood had not completely mixed with the water and had
made spots and swirls as it slowly fanned out into the clear
water. I crouched down and took her hands. She initially tried to
twist them away but I held her firm and she relented and let me
hold them. I looked into her face. In reality we were in this
together. I suddenly felt deep compassion for her and I had
recovered from my own selfish panic attack.

"It's what's supposed to happen,� I said trying to reassure her.

"It's like a period but this will happen only once. It will never
happen again. You were a virgin. This was meant to happen when
you lose your virginity," I spoke in a soothing way.

But as I listened to my words I realised this was too much
information in one sentence. What if she actually hadn't realised
the importance of the loss of her virginity and was about to
realise she would never get it back; and regretted it now. This
from a fifteen-year-old boy. What the fuck did I know? My gutless
sense of self-preservation was trying to convince this
not-quite-twelve-year-old girl she just took part in something
normal. Easy looking back to put an adult spin on an adolescent
reaction but that's what I said. She sniffed again and looked up
at me.

"What if I keep bleeding,� she asked mournfully.

I recalled the tampon pamphlet she had placed in my toilet bag.

"Wait" I said and I jumped up and took a packet of tampons I
found in the cupboard and turned to hand them to her. It came to
her what I was suggesting. Use the tampon as if she were having a
period. I grabbed a face cloth draped over the basin edge and run
it under the warm faucet. I wrung the cloth out and handed it to
her.

"Use this," and she looked up and took the cloth gratefully.

I stood and watched her clean the obvious signs of her hymeneal
blood off her body. Once she finished I took the cloth and she
then fished in the tampon box and removed one of the wrapped
cylinders with the string trapped inside the cellophane wrapper.
She started to remove the tampon from the plastic wrapper,
discarding the wrapper in the small trash bucket beside the
toilet pan. Then she rose up and attempted to fit it and I
stopped her. She looked up in surprise at my stay on her actions.

"I have an idea; you have to take a bath today so why not now,
and clean yourself properly?� I suggested. "Then use the tampon
afterwards,� I suggested.

She looked at me considering my suggestion.

"Come on. I'll run the bath. You have to do it anyway. She nodded
and slowly rose from the toilet seat and looked into the bowl.
There was a shock of crimson in the centre and a piece of sodden
toilet paper in the middle of the crimson. She did a double take
and looked back at me.

"I should pee,� she said numbly. I nodded and turned to leave.

"No. Don�t go�stay with me. Be here with me," she instructed.

I turned and looked at her as she sat down again. She laid her
forearms on her upper thighs and clasped her hands. Soon I heard
the strong splash of her pee into the toilet water and the hiss
that women tend to make as the urine leaves their body. I was
puzzled at her need for me to stay and watch her pee. Maybe she
just wanted the reinforcement that I was very much part of the
whole scenario and I shouldn't forget my responsibility. She
finished and I was a little fascinated as she tore a segment of
paper from the roll and made a small flat pad by with two
deliberate folds. She sat back and looking down dragged the pad
lightly across her vulva to remove any drops of urine. She
dropped the used pad between her legs into the bowl. She then
stood and turned and flushed the toilet, pausing to ensure the
contents washed away before she turned and started towards me.

"I'm OK now,� she said reassuringly.

"That's so great," I said softly. "You are so brave and so
beautiful".

She smiled and dropped her gaze. I think she thought it was a
phony comment but I meant it. She bent and put the plug in the
bath and turned the faucet on and adjusted the temperature. I
stood behind her and saw the fullness of her sex lips from the
slight part of her legs and stared at the curves and the cleft,
which separated the upper lips near the pubis. I could se a
slight redness at the small gaping opening of her vagina. She
seemed comfortable with her nakedness in front of me; or maybe
just oblivious to the seriousness of what we had done. I had
tucked my cock away and it seemed somehow unfair to be covered
while she was exposed. She ran the bath and shook some bath salts
and bubble bath into the water.

"Mum does this when they have a bath at the end of their period"
she said.

I nodded. Women seem attracted to baths more than men I thought.
Maybe it was the difference in our sexual anatomy that allowed a
bath to cleanse a woman internally, whereas men could wash
externally and inspect their success as they went. The water
pressure was strong and the bath filled quickly, all the time she
tested the temperature. Finally when about two-thirds full with
lots of bubbles she turned the faucet off. She stripped the vest
from her upper body and for the first time I saw the immature
nipples and realised the chest wasn't totally flat. Standing,
there was a noticeable curve and fullness near her sides though
flat across her breastbone. I had seen her totally flat on the
bed as she was lying down. But they had started to form and the
nipples were very pointy and quite pink. No aureole was visible
as yet but a faint darkening of the skin around the nipple area.
I could make out her hip bone and occasionally her ribs as she
prepared to get into the bath. The boyish shape was still there
but I realised there was enough fullness in her hips and buttocks
to suggest puberty was on its way. She stepped into the bath and
lowered herself gently into the bubbles, letting out a slight
hiss of reaction as the hotter than expected water came in
contact with her butt and crotch. She then eased down as she
acclimatized her lower body to the temperature of the water and
finally a sigh of satisfaction escaped her lips as she sat on the
bath bottom. She started washing her upper body with some soap
she took from a crockery jar on the faucet end. She looked up and
smiled. And went back to cleansing herself. I turned and walked
out of the bathroom.

"Wait, Stevie, come back" I heard her call.

But I had gone into the family room and out to the kitchen to the
back door. I turned the key in the lock and locked the door. I
felt a little more secure at any random entry by neighbors or
Barbara's near friends who were known to simply come into the
house without knocking. I looked at the kitchen clock. It was
barely past noon. So much in two hours since her family had left.
I returned to the bathroom and she looked up.

"Where did you go?� she asked.

"I locked the back door" I answered. "We don't want Kathleen or
Carman turning up to check up on you do we?" I added.

She giggled and nodded.

"No way!" She looked at me evenly. "This is our secret."

"Right on," I agreed.

I slid my briefs down and stepped into the bath. She focused her
gaze on my cock wobbling as I moved, and watched it disappear
from sight as I sat down in the frothy tub. We sat in the bath
for about an hour. Running more hot water when it cooled. My body
mass had pushed the water level near the top so we let a bit out
at intervals. We chatted about nothing but it was constant and
breezy. We had passed a point in our lives together, that we
could never go back to. But we never said a word about the sex
itself. Eventually we got out of the bath and spent time drying
each other. She was playfully waggling my cock as she dried me. I
watched as she sat on the edge of the bath and spreading her legs
and vulva, inserted the tampon as if it was a regular occurrence
for her; even though she did not have periods yet. This was
another first for me as a witness to this necessary feminine
chore. She confessed she had done this a few times, almost as
play acting being a woman. She had perfected it and no doubt
discarded a few wasted tampons. She wrapped a towel around her,
tucked in at the breastbone as women do, and went into her
bedroom. I had already showered and changed for the day so I
simply pulled my y-fronts back on.


Chapter 4: - New Horizons Beckon

As I left the bathroom, the water surging noisily down the drain,
I looked into her bedroom. She was standing with a pair of
panties in her hand and I stopped and grinned as she waved them
mockingly at me. The whole preceding three hours had all started
from her not wearing this simple garment. I shook my head and she
pulled them on under the towel. Simple modesty was almost
redundant given we had seen each other naked most of this day. I
went to my bedroom and dressed. I sat on the edge of the bed as I
put my socks on and realised the earlier fear and panic was now
gone. I was still a little apprehensive of the whole events that
had passed. Some of my irrational fears were still serious
questions for consideration. What would happen if this day's
events were revealed to both our parents? Maybe I was a minor as
well, but I would be seen as the more responsible and therefore
most culpable for the actions. And most certainly I would be in
deeper shit than she would be. In fact she would be the victim no
matter how willing she was. That was the truth of the matter. So
her earlier comment about "our secret" was reassuring to me.
Given the situation with her inner body, any further sex was out
of the question for today. We prepared a sandwich together and
went to the sitting room and sat on the floor with our backs
against the back of the couch; facing the windows where the weak
winter sun streamed in on us as we munched our lunch.

"What will happen now?" she asked after a period of silence.

"What do you mean? I asked.

"You know. You and me, together," she said.

"I don't know," I said not sure what she actually was getting at.
"We can be together sometimes. If you want to," I said
cautiously.

She took a bite from her sandwich and munched it deliberately.

"I'd like that," she said with a mouth full of bread and salami.

"But you can't tell anyone." I said this almost as a warning.

"And I can't either," I added almost as an afterthought.

I wouldn't dare brag to anyone, least of all my friends. Sex with
a middle school kid was a certain kiss of death in any cool
social sense and someone would certainly blab and it would be
out.

"What about church?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked suspiciously.

My God was she thinking of ways to tell.

"You know. Confession. This would be a mortal sin. I should
confess to get absolution," she said matter of factly.

I put my sandwich down on the plate and turned to her. "Barbs you
can't tell anyone. No one," I reiterated. "A priest will
certainly tell your parents."

"But confession is confidential," she said in an almost defensive
tone. "It has to be, to be able to admit yours sins without
fear," she continued.

"No way," I retorted. "A priest will be able to reveal the fact
without actually repeating what he was told, I bet," I argued.

She took another bite from the sandwich and considered this.

"I mean they can hint or imply, but as long as they don't
actually repeat what was said, they haven't breached a person's
confidence and before you know it we would be hauled before our
parents, and in my case, maybe the police," I said.

She considered this as she ate.

"OK," she said as she cleared the last morsels from her mouth.
"Our secret. Tell no one," and she held her hand up.

We clasped hands like arm wrestlers do, as a sealing of a pact.

"But what happens now?" she asked.

"What, right now?" I grinned.

"NO," she said sternly. "I think I've had enough for one day,"
she said firmly.

Then she softened.

�I'm sorry I shouted at you Stevie. But you hurt me."

"I hung my head.

"I know I did Barbs. And I should have stopped when you said to.
I think the damage was already done by then."

I paused and looked up at her.

"But you saw the power of me cumming," I reminded her of the
spraying of her face when she was jacking me off. "Once it starts
it�well, it sort of takes me over."

"That was so cool" she said. I was a bit surprised she said that.

"Really? You liked it?" I asked.

"Mmmmm. Really weird but so cool," she said. "We can do that
lots," she added.

"Yes we can. There will be moments when we are alone. Like
weekdays when your mother goes to you grannies and you don't go,"
I suggested.

She nodded knowing Jarrod worked in her father�s shop after
school. Often Barbara and I were left at home for a couple of
hours while her mother socialized with her grandmother.

"I could come into your room at night to," I said unconvincingly,
sure she would object to this.

"Mum and Dad would know," she answered.

"I doubt it"," I replied. "Their door is opposite Jarrod and me
and you should hear both of them snore," I replied.

It was true. Phyllis could lay down a sound track as good as
Martin. Some nights when I got up to go to the toilet they were
both at it like a duet of nose horns. So we had agreed I could
visit her in bed some nights if it was right.

"And more days like this," she volunteered. "I can get out of
having to be buddy to that fat skank Donna Leckie" she said
derisively. I grinned at this remark. She really did dislike
Donna.

"She's not fat. They're big tits," I chortled and poked her flat
chest.

"Pig" she screeched and cuffed me across the hair and I grabbed
her and we wrestled. I wound up on top of her and we paused
realizing I had her in the missionary position, like when had
fucked. She was pinned again and I quickly released her, not
wanting her to relive the restricted situation she was in during
her pain and anguish at my failure to release her when asked to.
She realised what I was doing and she pulled me back down. We
kissed.

"It's OK,� she said softly after we had broken our kiss. "I know
I won�t hurt again so it will be proper next time."

She paused.

"There will be a next time though, won't there?"

"You bet Barbs. You bet," I confirmed.

We agreed it was best we set up our desks for the study the
family expected we were both doing. We went to our own rooms and
in same way it was good to break the contact. Looking back she
was way more mature in her handling of this situation than I had
any right to expect. For my own self I feel I was more
considerate than a hormone driven fifteen year old would be, I
genuinely liked this girl even given the age difference. So I was
only too happy to allow the pace of what happen to remain in her
comfort zone. In truth I did not have a clue how to proceed
anyway. The only time I lost it was when I had to cum during the
sex act itself. And directly after her leaving my bedroom. But we
had gelled so well as two people after that incident, it was
easy, almost natural to be with her and consider her as a real
person who meant more than a little to me. She could easily have
been a sister prior to the sexual encounters. But now I was
genuinely possessive of her trust and maybe her affection, close
to some burgeoning love for me. I was feeling more than brotherly
in my affection for her. I actually admired her guts and loved
the wicked sense of humor that went with her youthful
intelligence.

In reality our cursory planning for further encounters while we
ate lunch, did not result in any further sexual contact for over
a month. For some reason her mother did not go and visit granny
before dinner when Martin was at work and Jarrod was there as the
shop errand boy. And attempts at stealing into her bed never
materialized as I chickened out the two attempts I had made. Both
times the snoring fell silent as I inched towards their bedroom
door. This silence discouraged me and I retreated back to my bed.
Fortunate for me that Jarrod was hard of hearing. So apart from a
few cursory displays of her nether regions at odd intervals,
Barbara and I became very frustrated that we could not score any
time together whatever we tried. But she was the one to break our
enforced celibacy. It was one morning when Jarrod had left early
for school with Martin who was to drop him off. Jarrod had some
school event prior to class. This left Barbara and I at the
breakfast table as Phyllis cleared the plates and cups and
announced she was going to take a bath. She asked if Barbara or
I, whoever was last to leave for school, would flick the latch on
the door when she went out. We left the table and each prepared
to leave for our respective schools. Phyllis had kissed Barbara
goodbye outside the bathroom and vanished in to take a morning
soak. I realised Barbara had gone when I peeked into her bedroom
on the way past to the family room and out through the kitchen.
She was gone. I heard Phyllis humming in the bathroom as I went
by the door.

I was surprised Barbara was still there when I got into the small
shed where we kids kept our bikes. She was standing by her bike
and gave me a knowing smile. I stood somewhat bemused and she
swiftly came to me and I felt her take the zipper of my school
pants and open it. I smiled at her and she looked up, the bobs of
her fringe concealing one eye as she knowingly released my cock.
She started to stroke me. I held her by the shoulders and looked
down. She was looking down at her hand going back and forth on my
now stiff cock. I held her back sufficiently for me to see it as
well. I was enjoying the sensation and eroticism of the
situation. As she jerked and jacked me, a carnal feeling began to
flow through me. This feeling that I was in control and could do
anything. I was taller so I pressed on her shoulder gently at
first, then with more pressure. She looked up suddenly as she
felt the increased force of my hands on her shoulders. She looked
down again than looked back up questioningly.

�Suck it,� I commanded in a low tone.

She stared at my cock; her hand had now stopped moving.

�Suck it Barbs, like in the book,� I instructed.

She looked back up at me, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

�Go on Barbs, suck it. Make me cum,� I said and pushed her down.

She dropped to her knees and stared at my cock now at her head
height. Her eyes flicked up to mine and I nodded affirmation for
her to start. She started by touching her lips to the end and
then, ever so slowly, she softly moved her face around letting
just the lips graze the head. She slipped her tongue out a little
and touched it. It was more of a prod than a lick. I urged her by
moving my hips towards her. Slowly her lips parted and she took
me her mouth. I transferred one hand to her head and held her by
the hair. She pulled back slightly but I compensated for this by
moving towards her while holding her head. She tried to move back
off the head but I held her and eventually she stopped fighting
it and I felt her mouth open wider as if she relaxed. For the
next few minutes I held her in this position and encouraged her
to take more of me in her mouth by easing towards her. She
finally surrendered to my urging and settled into a slow rhythmic
sucking. It was so deliciously carnal. Standing being sucked
while I held her in place by her hair. She sucked and laved me
with her tongue, occasionally taking as much of me as she could
stand as she grew more confident and expert at what she was
doing. Learning quickly as she went. She became quite adept at
sucking me deep as she could, then easing off and laving the head
and underside with her tongue. I held her head and allowed her to
jack and suck me until she felt me tensing. She sensed I was
getting close and a look of concern came over her face. She
glanced up at me with a trace of panic in her eyes. I held her
head with both hands now and pushed down at her so I could ensure
I was as deep as she could take, and she involuntarily retched a
couple of times causing me to ease back temporarily fearing she
might barf. I let some of the shaft pull out and she encouraged
this comfortable depth of penetration by swirling her tongue
quickly, around and back. It was too much and I sagged at the
knees as I unloaded into her. She gasped and made a guttural
choking sound as I pushed my cock back into her as I continued to
spasm in orgasm and I heard her swallowing and gulping as I
filled her throat. She tried to twist away but I held her and
fucked her face causing her to gasp and groan, letting out the
occasional sob as she recovered her breath. Eventually I
recovered and straightened up and my cock slipped from her mouth.
She gasped a few times as she regulated her breathing to
compensate for the lack of air she had with my engorged prick in
her throat. She had a dribble of cum on her chin and a thin
strand joining my cock head and a dribble accruing at the corner
of her mouth. She was gulping and making tasting movements of her
tongue in her mouth much as a child who has been given a tart
medicine does to get used to the acidic taste.

Eventually she stood and still holding my softening prick she
stared into my eyes with a �what have I done� kind of look. I
smiled and shrugged back. I run a thumb across her lips and
motioned her to close them, which she did. She would now be
getting used to the taste I expect. I looked at her with a degree
of gratitude and took the sides of her head more tenderly, and
bending towards her I kissed her long and deeply, searching her
mouth with my tongue. She took this as a sign of affection and
sighed as our lips mashed together and our tongues clashed in the
cavern of our two mouths formed by the lips. I felt she was
attempting to transfer some of the cum from her mouth to me but I
couldn�t taste anything unusual. She had swallowed it. What she
was trying to pass off was the residue of taste she mistook as
remaining fluid mixed with her saliva. I allowed her to continue
this as an easy acceptance of something that wasn�t there. I
finally broke off and whispered, �We�d better get going or we�ll
be late�. She expertly slipped my cock back into my underpants
and zipped me up again. I smiled and I said �have a good day at
school." She smiled at me and nodded. We walked out of the shed
and as we neared the bathroom window, I lifted the back wheel of
my bike to stop the light click, click, click, of the gears on
the bike, so as Phyllis could not possibly hear us leaving later
than expected, given the time we left the house. Barbara followed
suit. We eventually got past the house and out front while
smiling wickedly at me, she made an unladylike show of hooking
her leg over the seat as she mounted it; so that I got a glimpse
of her panty crotch. With that, she biked down the path
eventually disappearing from view. The whole event lasted no more
than 10 minutes, and all the while her mother soaping herself
languidly in the bath no less than fifteen feet away inside the
house.



TO BE CONTINUED�

� Romany 2004; revised 2007. Protected by copyright law. Please
do not copy, edit, amend or post this on any website without the
author�s permission.

Acknowledgements:  �The Tropic of Capricorn� by Henry Miller.

Coming soon �Barbara 2: Life Is About Learning Moments� by Romany
at https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/gypsey/romany/





  
Barbara 1 - Rites of Passage