Part One

“Go ahead! Ask him!” the mother urged her daughter without success. She seemed to be very reluctant to do what her mom wanted her to do.

It was shortly past 9 a.m. Even though I was across the street, sitting contentedly on my front porch, I could clearly hear part of the conversation going on amongst two of the neighbors who had just moved into their house three days earlier. Based on their glances towards me, I surmised that I was the “him” in their discussion. That was proven to be true a moment later when the older of the two females caught my attention by waving at me and motioning for me to cross the quiet, suburban street to join them. I did. When I got to their front yard, the mother smiled warmly at me and introduced herself.

“Hi!” she said cheerfully. “I’m Tina Stanley. This is my daughter, Clarissa. I’m sure you already know we moved into the neighborhood a few days ago.”

“Yes,” I replied. “I saw the moving van arrive with all your possessions. I’m Thomas Van Sickle, by the way. My friends call me Tommy.”

“Glad to know you, Tommy. I guess we’re friends now so I can call you that, right?” she said with a slight chuckle. “Speaking of friends, my daughter could use one.” She pointed at the girl whom I estimated to be a year or two younger than my 12 years. “Say hello to Tommy, Clarissa.”

Clarissa did. She also extended her right hand, which I shook. She was a short-haired brunette with a pleasant smile.

“There doesn’t seem to be many kids on this street or are they just hiding somewhere?” Tina asked me.

“No, you are right. There aren’t many at all. There are maybe three preschool kids and one or two high schoolers, but I’m the only one anywhere close to Clarissa’s age,” I said. I then turned to the younger Stanley girl and said, “Let me guess your age. I’ll take a stab at it and say you are about 11 years old. How close was I?”

“Wow! Good job!” Clarissa responded. “That is exactly right. I had my eleventh birthday about two months ago, before we moved here. Let me guess you age now:  I’m going to guess you are 13. How close am I?”

“Not too bad! Actually, it was very good guess,” I said in return. “I’ll be 13 three months from now. My birthday falls in October.”

“Very good, Tommy!” Tina told me. “You’ve got Clarissa talking. Good for you! She can be rather shy around new people.  A few minutes ago, I was urging her to cross the street to meet you.”

“There’s no need to be shy around me. I’d love to have Clarissa as a friend,” I truthfully stated. “We’re both in the same boat. There is no one else in the neighborhood close to our ages. I was really hoping the family who moved into the old Bradford house would have someone close to my age. You must be the answer to my wish, Clarissa.”

Clarissa flashed me a warm smile. “I like this boy already, Mom! He’s very nice!” she announced.

“See, I told you so, Clarissa,” her mom proudly said while placing her hand on my right shoulder. “My instincts were right.  Tommy will make a fine friend for you. I’m sure of it.”

Tina explained that I could be a great help to her that very day. Her husband was at work, and she had “a zillion things to do” regarding getting settled into the new house. It was the summer of 1967, well before the advent of the Internet, so they all involved being away from home. She had banking and shopping to do. She had to sign some papers with her real estate agent—all the typical chores and tasks that have to be done whenever a family changes residences. Legally, Clarissa could not be left unattended because she was not yet 12 years old. However, if I could be with her while her father was at work and her mother ran her errands, everything would be fine.

“I figure to be gone until about 3 o’clock this afternoon. There are just so many things to do,” Tina said to me. “Tommy, if you could stay here with Clarissa for a few hours, it would be a great help to me. I’ll make you both some sandwiches for your lunch. There is a pitcher of pink lemonade in the fridge and a pan of homemade brownies for dessert. How does that sound?”

“Now that sounds like my kind of lunch!” I replied. “I’ll clear it with my mom first, but I’m sure she’ll be okay with it. When you get fully settled in your new home, you ought to drop by my house later tonight and meet my parents,” I suggested. Tina said that was a splendid idea.

I briefly returned home where I explained the situation to my mother. As I predicted, she quickly approved of me having lunch at the home of my cute new friend. Five minutes later, Tina drove off in a beige station wagon to tackle her list of errands, leaving Clarissa and me together on the front lawn.

Upon further examination, Clarissa Stanley was not a bad looking girl at all! Puberty had not set in as far as I could see. (As a male close to entering my teen years, the telltale signs on her torso were, of course, the first things I looked for.) Clarissa was shorter than the average 11-year-old girl, but she had an athletic build. I found that out a few minutes later when she challenged me to a footrace to the nearest telephone pole which was about 75 yards down the street. The result was a virtual tie. “Wow! You’re a fast runner, girl!” I told her as I caught my breath. “I just barely won.”

“Oh, I’m not sure you beat me at all,” Clarissa piped in. “I may have nipped you at the finish line. It was very close.”

I couldn’t argue with that. “Maybe,” I conceded. “It was at least a photo finish.” I asked her, “Are you good at all sports, or just running?”

“I like to play badminton,” Clarissa informed me. “My father set up a net in the backyard. Do you want to hit some birdies with me?”

“Sure. Sounds like fun,” I told her as we slowly walked back to her property. Along the way she told me that her family recently lived in a major American city about 300 miles away where her father had been the manager of a drug store, part of a national chain. It shut down due to declining sales—the neighborhood around it had deteriorated badly during the past decade, Clarissa insisted—so the head office moved him westward to another store. It was the first time I ever heard the term “urban decay” used by anyone. The end result was that the Stanleys were now our neighbors—and I was quite happy to have Clarissa as a playmate, even if she was a girl.

I had better-than-average hand-eye coordination, so I thought I was a decent badminton player. Clarissa and I were just hitting to each other; we weren’t keeping score. I’m glad we weren’t because I was making far more errors than she was. She had excellent form. Most girls strike a badminton birdie like they are trying to shoo away a housefly. Not Clarissa, though! She looked like she had taken lessons and learned them well. She had terrific form on both her forehand and backhand sides.

“Okay, I see I have a professional on the other side of the net,” I complimented her. “Who gave you badminton lessons?”

“My dad did,” Clarissa admitted. “He is a really good player. He was a high school champion at one time. There was a small badminton club where I used to live. Maybe ten people would show up on club night. I could beat most of the adult players there...pretty much everyone except my father.”

For a challenge, Clarissa and I then decided to try to see how many consecutive hits we could have without either of us making an error. We got to 112 before I netted a backhand. By this time, we were both sweaty. The July heat and humidity was becoming oppressive as midday approached, so we jointly decided to take a break. We sat down on the concrete staircase that led to the Stanley house’s back door.

“You are an excellent athlete, Clarissa. I mean that sincerely,” I stressed. Clarissa smiled.

“Thanks for the compliment, Tommy,” she replied.

Part Two (Author's Note)

Dear readers:

Sorry to interrupt the story at this point, but I have to declare that both major characters in this tale miraculously and magically aged seven years during their badminton game, making Clarissa 18 years old and Tommy nearly 20. Voila!  They are adults!  That little tweak ought to satisfy some specific rules on this website! Please continue reading!

Part Three

“It’s too bad you don’t have a backyard swimming pool. I could use a cool dip,” I noted as I wiped perspiration from my brow. “The nearest public pool is halfway across town.”

“Well, we could always take a cool shower,” Clarissa suggested nonchalantly.

I laughed at what I perceived to be her amusing error in sentence structure. Then I said, “I think you meant we could each take a cool shower.”

Clarissa seemed puzzled. “No,” she informed me. “I meant exactly what I said: We could take a shower.” She paused for a moment and emphasized, “One shower with the two of us in it.  Get it?”

I was speechless. A pretty, athletic girl whom I had known for less than three hours wanted me to share a shower with her! Wow!

My long silence unnerved Clarissa. “Why are you looking at me like I don’t know what I’m saying?” she asked me. “Have you never enjoyed a shower with another person before, Tommy? It can be a lot of fun.”

“I don’t doubt that at all!” I excitedly replied. “I guess my answer to your question is no. I’ve never showered with anyone, only by myself.” Then I paused again before getting the nerve to ask Clarissa a personal question, “Whom have you showered with?”

“I’ve showered with my brother for as long as I can remember,” Clarissa said without any embarrassment.

“Oh, you have a brother,” I said. “This is the first time you’ve mentioned him. I haven’t seen him yet.”

“Oh, yes, I have a brother, but he’s not here,” she educated me. “Harry is almost 19 years old. He’s presently in the navy. The day after he graduated high school, he enlisted. He’s not the academic type, so he wasn’t going to enroll in college. That made him eligible for the military draft. He joined the navy rather than risk being drafted into the army. The navy is much safer. If you are in the army, you’ll likely end up being sent to Vietnam.”

I was impressed by Clarissa’s knowledge of current events—so much so that it distracted me from the important topic we were discussing: possibly sharing a refreshing and thoroughly sexy shower.

“Clarissa,” I gently persisted, “have you always showered with your brother?”

Clarissa explained, “I began to prefer showers over baths when I was very young. By the time I was ten, I’d sometimes surprise Harry when he was showering: I’d open the curtain and join him. It became a normal thing for us to do. We’d scrub each other with soapy sponges. It was fun. My parents put a stop to it once they found out about it. We didn’t really stop, though. We’d just shower together when Harry was looking after me whenever my parents were out of the house. Occasionally my being in there with him got him very aroused...and natural things just happened. You know what I mean, Tommy?”

“Uh...yeah!” I said.  I was sexually inexperienced, but I knew enough about the topic from talking to friends and reading illicit, illustrated materials I should not have had access to in 1967. Therefore, I indeed got the general idea about Harry and Clarissa’s shared showers. Now I was aroused!

While I was processing that information, Clarissa asked me, “Tommy, does this mean you’ve never showered with a sister?”

Her question unfortunately brought up a sensitive subject. I began, “Although I once had a sister, I consider myself an only child because Eleanor died less than two weeks after being born. She had a weak heart. Nothing could be done to save her. I was just five years old at the time. I never even saw her because she never got out of the hospital. My parents seldom discuss Eleanor, so neither do I.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Tommy. I didn’t mean to bring up something so sad,” Clarissa said. Tears were welling in her eyes when she suddenly embraced me and kissed my cheek. Now I was very aroused. It was sort of weird that a discussion about a dead baby in my family was the catalyst to my getting an erection, so I did my best to put the long-ago tragedy out of my mind and to return to my lustful thoughts about the pretty badminton player who was clutching me tightly. Our eyes met and we kissed. For some reason we both giggled, but then we kissed again and I could feel my heart rate increase.

There was no turning back now. I stated, “So, Clarissa...about that cooling shower for two that you suggested...I think it might be a lot of fun.”

“I know it will!” she confirmed. “Tommy, let’s go inside right now and have one!”

I had never been inside this house before, even under its former ownership, so Clarissa had to lead the way. I expected we’d undress in her bedroom, but instead she made a beeline, with me following close behind, to the upstairs bathroom where the shower was located. I was hoping for a bit of a sexy strip show from her, but Clarissa got down to her birthday suit without much delay, turned on the water and impatiently waited for me to disrobe. My penis was fully erect by the time I removed my socks and underwear and joined my pretty hostess for the sexiest shower of my young life.

The cool water was cascading on us and Clarissa seemed eager to start washing me, but I signaled her not to rush things. I wanted to enjoy the lovely scenery that was mere inches in front of me. Clarissa had a wonderful, hairless pussy and slightly puffy mounds where her breast would soon sprout. I had never been this close to a nude girl in my life, so I figured I was the luckiest guy in the world at that moment. Clarissa was absolutely beautiful to behold: She was pretty, sexy, athletic, and slightly mischievous. Being quite a bit taller than she was, I bent down slightly to start our sexual fun by embracing and kissing her.

Her wet, young body was an extreme turn-on for me. I began to explore her natural treasures with my eager hands. First, I lovingly fondled what passed for breasts, sucking and licking both of them for a time.

“Harry likes my titties, too, Tommy!” she said. “Whenever we shower together, Harry always does exactly what you are doing.”

“Well, Clarissa, it’s tough luck for Harry that I’m the one who is enjoying your goodies today!” I commented. “I’ve got his lovely, sexy, little shower buddy in my arms right now—and I’m going to enjoy every second of the situation!”

She smiled sweetly and naughtily said, “I’m going to enjoy you, too, Tommy. Considering I just met you this morning, I like you...a lot!” Then she gave my stiff shaft a playful squeeze.

I continued my exploration of Clarissa’s mounds and crevices. I began to finger her pussy, which got an immediate positive reaction from the youthful cutie. “That feels so nice, Tommy! I’ll probably have an orgasm before we’re done. Let’s see if we can come at the same time.”

Obviously, this wasn’t Clarissa’s first rodeo. Her brother had shown her more than the basics of sex during their showers. She then began to work on my dick, stroking it and caressing my testicles at the same time. I wasn’t going to last for very long in the presence of such a pro—and Clarissa knew it.

“Tommy, quick...” she instructed, “Put your penis inside me. I want you to come in my vagina. It feels so good and sexy whenever Harry does that to me.”

As much as I hated the thought of competing sexually with an active member of the United States Navy, I followed Clarissa’s orders to the letter. I lifted her slightly off the shower floor so I could more easily penetrate her desirable cunt. In went my dick and literally seconds later, she received a much-deserved, loving cum shot from me. I thrust my dick as far up her love channel as it would go. I kept it in that tight space for as long as I could maintain my erection while keeping Clarissa’s feet off the floor of the bathtub.

Eventually, I lifted my lover off my shaft and gently set her back onto her feet. We both sighed with pleasure and exhaustion. To my delight, the actual soapy cleansing part of the shower was almost as enjoyable as the sexual intercourse. (Well, perhaps I’m exaggerating.) Clarissa took a bar of soap and applied it to a new sponge and proceeded to wash every inch of my body three or four times. Simultaneously I took the bar of soap from Clarissa and directly applied it to her best parts. Rubbing the bar directly against her pretty pussy was as pleasurable for me as it was for her. I brought her to an orgasm with it.

Clarissa noticed that I had regained my erection. This prompted her to take lustful action.

“Harry likes it when I do this to him. He read about it in a dirty book.” Clarissa was obviously referring to fellatio as she knelt and placed most of my hard penis inside her mouth. I didn’t know enough about sex to know if Clarissa was good at this particular act or not, but it felt heavenly to 20-year-old me.

Clarissa gave me some good news. She said, “You can shoot your semen into my mouth, Tommy. I don’t mind. I like it.” About a minute later I complied. I gave her a few seconds of warning, but then I pushed her head completely against my crotch as I unleashed another load. I feared she might be angry about that, but I need not have worried.

“Harry never did that to me, ” Clarissa admitted after swallowing the entire serving of warm goo. “Maybe he should have done that!” Then she playfully kissed the top of my penis and gave it a few more strokes before my erection subsided.

Our shower lasted about 40 wonderful minutes, after which we dried each other off with thick, fluffy towels. I paused to lick Clarissa’s nipples a few more times, telling her, “I love these body parts of yours! They make me so horny.”

“Yeah, I noticed!” she said and began to giggle.

We enjoyed the lunch that Tina had made for us. Then we watched a little bit of TV. We sat together on the couch while it was on. First, Clarissa laid her head upon my shoulder. Then I joyfully put my head on hers. It was all very romantic. We were in the middle of a long kiss when we heard Tina’s car pull into the driveway. “We better be sitting in separate chairs when my mother finds us here,” Clarissa said. She was a wise girl for her age.

It had been a red-letter day for me. Just four hours earlier I had never met nor even seen Clarissa Stanley before. However, since our initial contact, we had had fun playing badminton and running about, we had shared a sexy shower...and I had solidly ejaculated twice, filling two different orifices of a sexy, albeit flat-chested girl who was clearly far more worldly about every aspect of sex than I was. Nearly 60 years later, I haven’t had too many experiences to top that one.

I thanked Clarissa’s mother for the excellent lunch. She, in turn, was more than grateful to me for being Clarissa’s “guardian” for six hours.

“Clarissa and I can’t thank you enough, Tommy,” she said as I was heading out the door.

“Oh, believe me, I’ve been well thanked,” I remarked. “There’s no doubt about that.”