My girly girlfriend Casey has this great big treehouse in this huge old oak tree in her back yard. She tells me her dad built it for her when she was like four years old, but it's big enough for a couple of teenagers to spend the night in. She has sleep-overs in it all the time. Her dad even ran a phone line out there so she could call them if she needed them. S eesh!
One Friday night in April, she told me to sneak out and come see her for a few minutes.
"Be there by eight! But if you're not there by 8:30, don't come at all!"
"Fine. I'll be there at eight," I replied, pretending to be annoyed. But I could never be mad at her, and she knew it. She was just too beautiful. She could melt me with a smile.
At around 7:55, I was scaling the back wall of her property. Her parents are rich, and her yard is huge. The wall is about seven feet high, but covered along its entire length with Virginia creeper. If you stand on an upturned garbage can, and then jump up a little, you can grab the low-hanging vines and pull yourself up. Well, most people couldn't, but I'm pretty strong.
Anyway, I got up to the top of the wall, carefully got to my feet, and then leaned as far as I could to grab a branch of the great old oak tree. It was tough to do in the gathering gloom. I could hardly see it. I almost fell. I always almost fall. But I managed to catch it with one hand and then swing over to the back wall of the treehouse. One day that damn branch is just gonna snap on me. But it didn't that day.
I stood on a gnarly old limb next to the back window and waited. The back window was basically a rectangle cut out of the wooden wall, with a sill on it. I didn't peek in yet. She wasn't there. She told me never to peek in because sometimes her mom comes out there with her, helping her carry her blankets and pillows and such. I just waited.
It was a nice night. In April in our city, the sun goes down around 7:30. There was still some light in the western sky, but the stars were coming out. There was a cool breeze that made me kinda wish I'd brought a sweater. My T-shirt was damp from the run all the way to Casey's house, and now I was chilly. But I waited patiently. My watch said 8:02.
A few minutes later, she came out. I heard voices murmuring as the two women crossed the back lawn. They climbed the slats on the trunk of the tree that served as a makeshift ladder and flipped the trap door open. The door thunked against the tree. Light spilled out of the window from her lantern. I held my breath.
"You want me to call you when your little friend gets here?" her mom said.
"Mom, she's taller than me."
"Well, compared to me, everyone's little. Especially you, little pixie."
"Sure. Call me. I'm just gonna read for a few minutes."
"Take your sleeping bag..."
"Here's your pillow."
There was a fluttering of pages. Casey took it.
"And here's some cookies. Don't eat them all."
"Now gimmie a hug."
They hugged, I assume. All I heard was the rustle of cloth. I pictured Casey sitting next to the trap door on her sleeping bag, and her mom standing on the second last rung of the ladder, leaning in to hug her. I'd never actually climbed down that ladder, though I'd been in that treehouse many times. I always exited the way I came in, nearly killing myself trying to swing back onto the top of the wall, most of the time in the dark.
"Aren't you gonna be cold out here dressed like that?" her mom asked.
"Mom," she said, sounding annoyed. "That's what the sleeping bag's for."
"All right. Fine. Just asking. Call if you need anything. And you come straight inside when it's time for her to go. I don't want you sleeping out here by yourself."
"Yeah, yeah. I know. You've told me a thousand times."
There was a thump as the trap door was shut behind her, and then barely perceptible footsteps striding across the grass back to the house. Her mother muttered to herself about crazy kid this and die of hypothermia that. The last thing I heard was, " ... not even wearing pants!" I became suddenly excited.
A minute later, after a slam of the back door of the house, an arm extended out from the back window, holding the lantern. And then a pretty little face leaned out and turned to see me awkwardly crouched on the tree like some sort of costumeless ninja, ready to pounce. I just looked up at her and sighed.
"Good evening, miss!"
"Comfy?" she said.
"Been waiting long?"
"Five million years."
"Shut up, you goof."
Casey was absolutely gorgeous. She's petite, just over five feet tall. Her eyes only come up to my chin. She has to stand on her tiptoes to kiss me when we're standing up. She has short reddish-brown hair, auburn, I think they call it, but it's more reddish than brown. She has green eyes that light up and sparkle when she laughs, but they're magical when she smiles. Her cheeks are covered in the most adorable freckles. She's got nice little boobies, too, and a butt so cute and round and bouncy, you'd almost risk going to jail just to grab it and give it a nice firm squeeze. She lets me grab it all the time, though, so no worries for me.
She was indeed barely wearing anything at all. She had a little red night shirt on that came down to the tops of her thighs, and that was it. Leaning out the window like she was, I could see her panty-covered butt. I hummed in appreciation.
"Stop it, you perv! Get in here!"
She leaned back and I climbed in. Moments later, she was kissing me like we'd just fought an epic battle against the world's ending and finally found each other again after a life-and-death struggle. Cue the brass section. Cue the strings. Forte!
Ah, who'm I kidding? She's just really horny all the time, and God, do I love her for it.
She shoved me back onto the sleeping bag, swung one leg over, planted her plump and puffy, panty-covered pussy right onto the crotch of my sweat pants, and went crazy on me, kissing me, shoving her boobies into my chest, grinding on me, moaning, and sighing happily. She practically devoured me, to be honest. Not that I was complaining. Her tongue in my mouth was like candy. Within moments I was hard as a rock, bent awkwardly sideways down there, almost poking right out of my sweats. And I was moaning into her excited little kiss as she stroked her damp little mound against me. Oh, man, I could feel everything, so soft and wriggly.
"Shhh!" she kept reminding me. "You're too noisy!"
Like I could help it! We kissed even more, until finally it was her who was moaning.
"I love you, I love you, I love you! My beautiful sexy boyfriend!"
"I love you, too," I whispered. "Wanna fuck?"
She climbed off me and sat up. "You wish."
"I sure do."
"Just shut up and listen! My friend is coming over in a few minutes. Her parents are visiting my parents, and she's going to hang out with me out here while they're busy in there doing ... whatever the hell they're doing."
"I heard your mom say something like that. So why did you need me here?"
"Because I have to fill you in on the plan before I tell her!"
"There's a plan?"
"Just shut up and listen!"
"I'm listening! I'm listening!"
I pretended to be annoyed again, but I was looking down at her little B-cup boobies in the lantern light. They were amazing. She wasn't even wearing a bra.
She punched me in the chest. "Pay attention!"
"Okay!" I replied in a loud whisper, rubbing the little injury a bit. She packed quite a wallop.
"Here's the plan! Two magical things are happening on Monday."
"Such as... ?"
"Well, first of all. You don't have school, and I do."
"True," I said. I went to public school. She went to a private girls' school. St. Mary the Perpetual Cherry, or something like that. At least that's what my buddies at school called it. Anyway, we normal kids had Monday off for a teacher's training day or something. The Cherry girls had no such luck.
Casey talked very fast, explaining the details to me, and the whole time, she was shoving and smacking my hands away as I moved to grab her and caress her and fondle the various parts of her pretty little female form. She even dodged my kisses when I tried to kiss her again. She really wanted to get the story out.
"The second magic thing is, I just happen to know that our Janitor, Martha Wallabee, is going to be away on Monday. I was in the office today, picking up some photocopies for our science teacher, Mrs. Angelo, and I heard Martha talking to the secretary about how she had to move her day off from Wednesday to Monday because the painters screwed up their schedule. The secretary was all in a huff and told her she's lucky she's even getting a day off, how the school would be absolutely wrecked by the time she got back, but Martha told her to stuff it. I'm pretty sure she was just kidding."
She said all that so fast, my head almost popped from the overload of information. But my logical male mind got the gist of it anyway: the school janitor was going to be away on Monday. I finally managed to get a kiss in on her neck.
"So what?" I said. "So Martha's getting her house painted. Why is that so magical?"
"Because, stupid! The Maintenance Room!"
I felt like I was hearing an inside joke that I wasn't in on.
"I don't get it. That supposed to mean something to me?"
.... There is more of this story ...