Author: JojoMojo Title: Rememberings - Becky Alone
Part: 6
Universe: Rememberings
Summary: The summer after grade 5 found me as a latchkey kid.  It was
mostly controlled boredom except when Becky stops by.
Keywords: True, bg, ped, cons



Rememberings - Becky Alone

By JojoMojo

(True, bg, ped, cons)

Copyright (C)2009 by the author


You may want to read the first five Rememberings as this follows on
the experiences contained in them.  Check my webpage:
http://www.asstr.org/~JojoMojo/



Towards the end of fifth grade as I was walking home I heard someone call my name.  I turned and it was Becky.  We had continued to avoid each other at school and I was surprised that she was calling to me.  I stopped and waited for her to catch up.

There was an awkward silence as we started walking together.  We made small talk about school and teachers, etc.  I finally got up the nerve to ask if she still had Tricia as a baby sitter.  She kind of frowned and said no.  So, I dropped the subject.

When I got to my street and started to turn off, I stopped and said it was good to see her.  I was kind of hoping to strike up a friendship, but figured this was a one time occurrence.  She said it was good to see me too and if it was ok she might walk with me sometimes.  I walked home on cloud nine.  In retrospect, Becky was my first crush on a girl my own age.

So, for the rest of the school year we walked together occasionally.  The last week of school, I asked her if I could come over sometime and she said that it might not be a good idea, but she might be able to come to my house sometime.  I told her I thought my folks would be ok with it and that of course Bonnie would be sitting three days a week like last summer.

She said that she liked Bonnie because she was always so nice.  She walked with me down my street and I pointed out my house.  I was kind of embarrassed because it looked small and old compared to her house.  She promised to stop by sometime.

With Bonnie babysitting again and the prospect of Becky stopping by, I was looking forward to a repeat (without Tricia) of our time together.  On the first day of summer, my mom announced that I was old enough to stay home by myself.  She told me that she had talked to the neighbors and they would be home most days if I needed help.  She gave me a list of rules (no one in the house, couldn't go anywhere without calling her at work first, etc.).

Most 11 year olds would have been thrilled with the prospect of being in charge of their own destiny for much of the day.  I was crushed.  I was really looking forward to Bonnie being there.  I couldn't figure out how I could talk my mom into hiring Bonnie without looking like a complete dope.  I think I cried myself to sleep several nights.  I ached for Bonnie.

I did see her a couple of times around town that summer and each time she gave me a big hug and commented on how I'd grown.  I had wild fantasies about how we could meet, like me sneaking out of the house in the middle of
the night; going to her house and climbing in the window.  

I'm sure there are those who might have done just that, but I was not a risk taker, I was a rules follower.  So that fantasy was about as realistic as stealing a helicopter and flying to a deserted cabin (another one of mine).  Looking back, I think that Bonnie was kind of relieved to be off the hook, closing a chapter in her life she wasn't very proud of.

By the second week of summer, I had settled into a routine.  I finally had a lot of freedom when my mom was home and ranged all over our small town.  I even rode my bike past Becky's house hoping to see her outside but too chicken
to stop and ring the bell.  The days my mom worked, I was a prisoner in the house.  I was allowed to go out on our front porch or play in the back yard, but not to stray any further.  I wasn't allowed to have friends in and was required to call my mom at work and check in at specific times.

It was the last "work day" for my mom of that second week when Becky came over.  I wasn't supposed to answer the door, but looked through the curtains next to the door and saw her.  I opened the door and stepped out on the porch.  I told her the rule, but figured I wasn't breaking it if we stayed on the porch and she didn't come in.  We sat on the steps and talked for a while, catching up on each others' summers.  Then she left.

The next week, she stopped by on mom's first "work day".  This time we talked longer.  All of a sudden, she said she had to pee, real bad.  I decided to take a chance and told her to walk around the side of the house,
there were large shrubs along the drive between us and the neighbor.  Lots of kids used our drive as a shortcut through the block because it hooked up with the alley and the drive behind us without a fence.  So even if they saw her walking down the drive, the neighbors wouldn't think anything of it.

So I figured it wouldn't look weird for her to head down our driveway and the neighbors wouldn't see if I let her in.  I ran inside and down into the basement, opened the side door and let her in.

I told her where the bathroom was and she ran upstairs and I heard the door close.  A minute or two later she came back downstairs saying something like "that was close."  I was very nervous having her in the house, but she seemed  ntrigued.  I was sure that my mom would somehow know that I had broken a rule.

Becky shyly asked if she could see my room.  I considered telling her she had to go but to tell the truth; I was lonely and bored when by myself.  Eight hours is a long time to fill when you are 11.  I took her upstairs to my room and she looked over everything with interest, never mentioning the clothes on the floor or the unmade bed.  I told her all about my models (still a passion) and showed her the one I was working on, laid out on a card table in the corner.  I even showed her my baseball trophy.  I couldn't believe she was interested.

We ended up sitting on the bed together and after I ran out of things to show her there was an awkward silence.  She took a deep breath and kind of squared her shoulders, then turned to me and said she had something she needed to ask me about but was afraid I would think she was stupid or silly or something; but that I was the only one that she could talk to about it with.  I had a feeling where this was going.  My heart started hamering and I could feel my dick stirring a little bit.  I promised I'd listen and not make fun of her.

She sighed, then asked if I remembered when we came over to her house.  I nodded, almost afraid to breath.  She asked if I liked what we did or if I only did it because Tricia made us do it.  I blushed a little, and stumbled around for words.  I finally told her I liked it, some stuff more than other stuff.  Then she dropped a bomb shell.  She asked if I had ever met Tricia's Uncle Charlie.  I was surprised as I had forgotten about Tricia mentioning him.

My visit with Uncle Charlie never happened.  I showed up at the playground but Tricia never did.  I went back all week, hoping to see her.  I hadn't seen Tricia since she sat for me the middle of fifth grade.  I told Becky about the invitation and missed opportunity.  She nodded and bit her lip, then she told me that Tricia had taken her to Uncle Charlie's shortly before we had met, just before fifth grade started.

She proceeded to tell a story that made the hairs stand on the back of my neck and to my embarrassment made my dick start to harden.  I'm not going to go into the details here partly because Becky didn't share a lot of detail and partly because it's not my story to tell.

The short version is Tricia explained that she was Uncle Charlie's first "special girl" and he had started "playing" with her when she was eight.  They had decided that it was time for Becky to become one of his special girls.  Tricia made it seem like this was a big honor.

On the first visit he had fondled her while Tricia took pictures.  Becky referred to Uncle Charlie as creepy and him touching her as icky.  The next time Tricia was alone with her at Becky's house, she had casually mentioned that once Uncle Charlie "broke Becky in" she was going to invite her boyfriend over to "play" with her while she watched, maybe even borrow Uncle Charlie's camera.  It turns out that Uncle Charlie had shared Tricia with friends when she was little and she had told Becky about it that night, trying to make it sound fun.

That was around that time that I had met her.  And while she admitted that she had been doing stuff with Bonnie for a while before we met, it seemed different to her than doing stuff with Uncle Charlie or Tricia's boyfriend.  Becky was horrified and felt trapped.

Then she filled in some gaps, sharing what had happened after we left her house the last time.  It seems that Tricia had decided to skip Becky's tennis lesson a couple of times during the summer and made excuses about Becky not feeling well.  When Mrs.  Bowman had stopped in to pay the bill on her lunch hour, they had mentioned that they hoped Becky would be feeling better soon.  Mrs.  Bowman asked more questions and found out about the
skipped lessons.

When she got to the house, she came downstairs to find the bed rumpled and Tricia and Becky downstairs without any explanation.  It turns out that Tricia had been told explicitly the guest suite was off limits.  Under questioning, Becky admitted that Bonnie and I had been over to play.  This broke another explicit rule and Mrs. Bowman had fired Tricia on the spot.

After Tricia, her folks hired Mrs. Olson to watch Becky when they were out.  Tricia had approached Becky only one time since, after school.  Becky told Tricia that her folks had made her promise not to talk to her and as fate would have it, her mom drove up just then.  Tricia reminded her not to  tell about Uncle Charlie or "bad things would happen" and left before Mrs. Bowman saw her.

Becky said that the last time she had seen Bonnie was that day we came over.  I sat there mulling things over.  Becky's story explained Tricia's absence when Bonnie was sitting for me that year.  

I figure now that Bonnie put as much space between her and Tricia as possible.  I have wondered for some time what would have happened to me if I had met Uncle Charlie as planned.  I also wonder if he had ever done anything with Bonnie as Tricia seemed to have some kind of hold on her and they had been friends since elementary school.

I was bowled over by what Becky told me.  She sat there with tears on her cheeks and I told her I was sorry.  I really didn't know what else to do (typical helpless male when a female's tears are involved).  She said it wasn't my fault, that she just needed to tell someone and I was the only person she knew who might understand.  That was why she had started walking home with me.  

She had planned to tell me some of it while we walked, but it just seemed too weird to bring it up when we were out in public.  Plus, she was afraid she might cry and didn't want anyone to see her crying and start asking questions.

She looked at the clock and said she had better get going because Mrs. Olson would be looking for her.  I walked her downstairs and let her out the basement door.

As soon as she was gone, I went back to my room and masturbated.  Being so close to her made me horny.  I found myself concentrating on that last visit, watching Tricia licking her, trying to imagine Bonnie naked, doing the same.  The thought of Uncle Charlie also entered my mind.  The thought of him fondling her while Tricia took pictures was extremely exciting but made me feel guilty at the same time.  I almost felt like I was betraying her somehow with my fantasy.

The next week, the doorbell rang and it was Becky again.  I didn't open the door, just pulled the curtains aside and pointed to the side of the house.  She met me at the basement door and we walked upstairs to my room and sat on the bed.  We talked about normal kid stuff for a while, sharing stories about what we had heard middle school would be like, which teachers were mean; that kind of stuff.  During a pregnant pause, Becky looked at me and started to ask questions.

Becky went through the same questions as before, did I like the stuff that we did at her house.  I nodded, red faced again.  This time I asked if she liked that stuff.  She thought for a long while and then said, "some of it." She said that she really didn't like it when people stuck their fingers inside
her, that mostly she liked touching each other and she liked it when I "kissed her down there" but wasn't sure if she could put my "thingy" in her
mouth.

We sat there for what seemed like forever.  I could feel my heart thumping and desperately wanted to ask the next natural question, but didn't have the guts.  I just sat there looking at my feet.  Finally she broke the silence and asked if I wanted to do "some stuff." I just nodded.

We started by just putting our hands down each other's pants.  As natural as it had seemed the previous summer, it was kind of awkward.  We quickly began to undress and before long, we were both naked.

I was surprised as we undressed to see that Becky was wearing a bra.  Once we were naked, it was easy to see that Becky had matured.  Her pointy little nipples had grown to small roundish breast mounds (looking back, probably just about right for that training bra), her nipples were still about the same size as mine; she was sporting a little shadow of downy hair above her lips, no hair to speak of anywhere else; and her hips had begun to round out as well.

Later, when I had a chance to explore, I found that things had changed "down there."  Her inner labia had grown and the hood over her cliterous was bigger and wrinkled.  I on the other hand had not matured in any way except maybe a little longer dick, not a hair in sight, still a skinny kid.  I felt kind of self concisous.  She didn't say anything about it, but I still was kind of embarrassed.

As we began to rub each other, I felt her getting wet.  I pulled my hand up to see what was on it, at first thinking maybe she had peed, but then remembered my experience with Tricia.  Becky apologized for getting my hand "icky." I told her it was ok, assuming that it was part of growing up.


That day we just rubbed each other and at one point I lay on top of her and we rubbed against each other (that felt really good).  I can remember how it felt when she wrapped her legs around me, rotating her pelvis so that my dick could rub from the whole length of her vagina.  We humped together for
a while and I came first (the story of my life).

She asked if I would keep rubbing against her, but I told her it kind of hurt (really it was just too sensitive), so I rolled off her and used my fingers.  As I rubbed her I moved down and lay my cheek on her thigh so that I could see what I was doing.  She alternated between holding my head with her hands and "helping" me, holding herself open and occasionally touching her clit or running a finger down her lips.

I really wanted to lick her, but was a bit turned off by how wet she was, afraid (again) that it would taste bad.  I also noticed that her scent had changed since that time at her house.  So I concentrated on drinking in what I was seeing.  As I studied her I could see that her lips seemed puffier and the inner labia were larger.  The downy hairs on her pubis were of particular interest to me.   She seemed very grown up.

It seemed to take a long time for her to get to the point where she was ready to orgasm.  Her hips were moving in the same motion as when I had been on top of her.  The motion and the visual stimulation as I continued to rub her was arousing.  I could feel myself start to get hard again, so I ended up half on the bed and half off, humping against the corner of the mattress as I watched our fingers manipulate her sex.

At one point I glanced up and she had her eyes closed, so I lifted my head and tentatively slipped a finger into my mouth.  I was surprised to find that she tasted pleasant, a little salty.  About that time, she began to hump harder and put one finger directly on her clit moving it back and forth quickly.  She was making little breathy grunting noises and I could feel myself approaching another orgasm.

She began to spread her legs widely and press up, then pull them together trapping our fingers.  After what seemed like forever (I was trying hard not to cum) she pressed up hard for a long time.  I could not hold off any longer and pressed my cheek down against those downy hairs as I came.

As I came out of the haze of my orgasm, it felt weird to be laying there with my nose against the top of her vulva, so I got back on the bed and lay down beside her.  Then she did the strangest thing.  She reached up placing both hands on my cheeks and kissed me full on the lips.

It wasn't a French kiss.  In reality it was a pretty immature kiss, tightly closed lips, etc.  But, regardless of how it was done, it set off fireworks for me.  I think she kind of surprised herself because she suddenly stopped kissing me and blushed deeply.  I can remember seeing the blush spread all the way to her breasts.

Becky came over several times that summer.  I would have liked it if she came every day, but her parents had enrolled her in several summer programs and Mrs.  Olson kept close tabs, so it was hard for her to get away.  We really didn't progress beyond the touching, humping and licking that we had
learned from Bonnie and Tricia.

We did spend a lot of time practicing kissing and in some ways it seemed naughtier than the sex.  I can remember being light headed the first time we French kissed.  Becky swore me to secrecy about our kissing sessions, but never mentioned the other stuff.

We eventually tried our kissing and the sex play in other places around the house.  That seemed particularly naughty.  I can remember one time in particular when we decided to just be naked the whole time she was there, which afforded us the opportunity for several sessions interwoven with
watching TV.

One funny thing happened that day.  We were sitting in the living room, which had a window out on to the front porch, and the mailman came onto the
front porch to put the mail in the mail slot.  We didn't hear him until the slot on the front door opened then slammed shut when the mail hit the floor.

We both jumped and Becky screamed, then covered her mouth realizing that she shouldn't make any noise.  I don't think he even noticed us but I distinctly remember watching him walk off the porch, heart pounding, hoping he wouldn't turn around and see us through that window, finally dissolving into uncontrollable laughter once he was back to the sidewalk.

Becky eventually went down on me a couple of times mentioning that it wasn't so bad.  Looking back, I'm glad I wasn't ejaculating yet as that probably would have been a deal breaker for her.

Several times, I toyed with asking if I could "stick my dick inside of her" but never had the guts to do it or ask.  I had visions of us "doing stuff" together after school started and spent hours devising plans for how we'd get together and where.  I even thought about clearing a place in the basement.  But, my plans came to nothing.  Her dad got a new job in a different state and they moved away shortly before school started.



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