Where it happened: hayloft of old barn
Langauge: English
Sex: 12
Rating: 4
Category: Straight
School was out for the summer and we were past the time of harvest and
first plowing, waiting for the rain.
Two hills east was a friend of mine named Jimmy, and he and
I spent time together when we had it to spend.
Let me say at this point that mine was a family of all boys,
and I mean the all. I didn’t have any girls to learn from,
cousins or neighbor. I was girl dumme, but not uninterrested
or blind to them, I just didn’t know any thing about them, and
was a little shy (read scared to death).
One morning as I walked up the hill to Jim’s, I could see
in the pasture that there were TWO kids down at the tank (stock
tank to the city folks) fishing so I was curious when I got closer
to see if it was anyone of the kids from school. It was not.
There with Jim was the most heart stopping girl I had ever
seen. Short cruly brown hair, a heart shaped face, little pointed
breast (with no bra) cut-offs and a shirt tied closed at the botte.
How had Jim come up with this girl? A cousin come to visit.
I came to visit very often from that moment. Lack of space
makes me jump 4 days, Jim got sick, measels, mumps or somesuch
. Just Muesette and I. I am content, glorious, filled to bursting.
Out of the blue sky and green pasture, Muessette asked if I
would like to see her Pussy, I turned red and died. She then
said it was in the hayloft, and I died a 2nd. time. At this
point she was laughting the laugh of silver bells and I did not
care.
Up the loft she showed me the tri-coloured mother and her
three kittens. Muessette ask why I had turned so red and acted
so strange when she ask me about the kittens, and I stammered
out some excuse. She looked at me and said “Did you think I
ment MY Pussy!” Dead for the 3rd. time in 15 min.s I said “
“Yes” The silver bells sounded again, and then with a grin,
she ask, “And did you?” After a pause, I again replyed “yes”.
“Okay, if you’ll show me yours” she said. I did, she did,
and I have never again seen anything or anyone so beautful.
Only the trace hair was to be seen, (and I looked close) as
fine as silk and almost straight, a mound as soft and firm
as…as nothing else I have ever felt. Her breasts were small
and very pointed, with nip’s the colour of peach ice cream.
And were they senceitive. She was the best older women I can
ever know, and all that at 13. She had a WWII silk parachaut
up there that she pulled out for us to lay on, and we did.
Still laughting and smiling, she pushed me on my back, and
gave the kiss of kisses to a male. Then she pulled her way
up to kiss my lips, and in the dark of the loft, her green eyes
still sparkled like emerals. She reached between us, grasp
me and let her self down so slow, I died again.
She was so good I stayed hard almost the whole afternoon,
taking time out to taste all of her, over and over again, to
drive it in to my memory to last for ever. It’s lasted 38 years
now, and if I close my eyes, I can still smell, taste, hear
and wish to touch that girl again.
curage
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