The woods and fields behind the house covered over a thousand acres, most of it owned by my neighbor who also happened to be my grandfather. He had inherited the land from his father, a farmer, who had inherited it from his ancestors. There were only four houses on the road; my grandparents, my mom and dad's, my mom's sister and her husband, and the new family that had moved into my uncle's house after he died and left it to his friend, who promptly sold it.
I loved that acreage and had played in it for years, ever since I was old enough to go into it by myself. It was where I played explorer, and fought Indians, and hunted bears, and where I camped. And it is where I learned to practice everything I read in books about surviving alone in the wilderness. It was my playground and my classroom, and I was the only one who cared to traverse its paths and enjoy its virtues.
As soon as school dismissed in the spring, I would grab my gear and head to the woods, checking in with Mom every day and always in time for supper. Other than that, I was allowed to play there to my heart's content.
When I was about eleven years old, I decided that since I was alone in my private wilderness, that I would don the clothing of the Indian brave, a simple loincloth and moccasins. The new clothing was a freedom that I never knew existed and by the time I was twelve, I only wore clothing when the weather required it, stripping out of my clothes as soon as I was beyond eyesight of the house and hiding them in a plastic paint bucket that I painted camouflage and kept hidden in an evergreen bush.
The new neighbors moved into my deceased uncle's house and were welcomed by my family. The husband worked for the same company as my dad and traveled extensively, so his wife, a stay-at-home mother, became fast friends with the three neighboring females, all housewives. One change in the neighborhood's demographic was the new neighbor's daughter, Denise. We were the same age and had attended the same schools, so we knew one another, but weren't particularly friends. Our mothers, however, saw us in a different light and planned activities to include us, thus cutting into my wilderness adventures.
And then one day all of that changed.
Denise and I were being subjected to another day of being restricted to the house to play when she asked the ultimate question.
"Danny, do you not like me?" she asked.
"I like you fine," I replied. "Why would you ask something like that?"
"Well, you act as if you're bored every time I come over and you just, I don't know, act like I'm messing up your plans."
I didn't know how to answer that at first, but when I saw the hurt in her eyes, I knew I had to be honest.
"It's not you, Denise, in fact, I really like you, but I just don't like staying inside or playing ball, or board games, or any of that stuff. I've played in the woods as long as I can remember and I love it. I would live in the woods if I could. Most of the time in the summer, I camp out for days at a time, so having to stay at home and not go into the woods is just not my idea of fun."
"Oh," she responded on the verge of tears. "So you don't like playing with me."
"I like playing with you, but I just like playing in the woods better," I replied, realizing immediately that I still did not say the right thing. "I mean, if you liked playing in the woods, that would be great, but girls don't like playing in the woods like that."
"Who says I don't? You never asked me!" she retorted as a tear slipped down her cheek.
When that first tear slipped across her cheek and dropped onto her dress, I knew it was hopeless. When she told her mother, and she told my mother, that I didn't want to play with her because she was a girl and I wanted to play in the woods, I would lose all of my privileges and would probably never see my camping gear until I was eighteen.
"Well, do you like playing in the woods?" I asked quietly.
"I don't know. The closest thing I've ever been to the woods is the city park. It's a lot of fun but there are always too many people."
In a moment of weakness, I knew I had to ask, and I did.
"Would you like for me to show you where I play in the woods? Maybe you would like it since it would just be the two of us."
She looked at me, searching my face for sincerity. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to be a bother."
"No, it would be great. I normally go out into the woods as soon as I eat breakfast and, if I'm not camping, I come home in time for supper."
"Really? Your mom doesn't mind?"
"No, I fix some sandwiches or take something to cook over a fire for lunch and spend all day. It's a lot of fun and it's quiet."
"Can we go tomorrow?" she asked.
"Sure, we'll just have to make sure it's alright with our moms, but sure."
"And we can have a picnic lunch?"
"Sure. It'll be a lot of fun. I'll show you all of my favorite places."
Suddenly I was tackled by a girl and knocked to the ground as she hugged me.
"Thank you! I promise I won't be any trouble. What should I wear?"
Lying on the ground with Denise lying on top of me, her arms around my neck, my hands automatically landed on her hips to steady her or to push her off, to this day I'm still not sure. This was different than being tackled by a guy because, for one thing, a guy just tackled and then got up, but she stayed. And, I had just discovered, she was soft and smelled good. And my fourteen year old body took it from there.
"Uh, I guess just play clothes, shorts and a shirt; that's all I normally wear."
"OK. You'll see: I won't be any trouble, I'll do whatever you say, and I'll remember that the woods are your home, not mine. Thank you!" she said in one breath.
And then she did it: she went to kiss me on the cheek, but I moved to avoid our faces colliding, only I moved the wrong way and her kiss on the cheek landed square on my lips.
We froze as we pulled apart slightly, our eyes meeting, our hearts pounding, as we held our breath. I saw those eyes for the first time and became lost in them. It seemed like it took and eternity, but I'm sure it didn't, as our lips came closer by millimeters and touched again, only this time it was purposeful, and lingering, as we found that soft bond of two sets of lips and they began a genetically-known dance that lasted until we had to breathe.
"Oh god!" she gasped when our lips finally separated.
"Yeah," was all I could reply.
"Uh, we had better get up," she finally whispered. "Someone might see us!"
"Yeah," was all I could reply as she sat astraddle me and ran her hand thru her shoulder length hair.
"Sorry I knocked you down," she said. And then she got a weird look on her face and we looked in each others eyes again as she wiggled, my now-hard dick feeling the warmth and softness of her crotch, especially with each move.
"I had better get up, hadn't I," she stated calmly as she lifted herself off of me.
Offering her hand to help me up from the ground, I took it and we both felt the special surge of power that only happens when a man and a woman touch for the first time.
We knocked the grass off of one another and gathered the game pieces that we had been playing under the big maple tree until we scattered them with out sudden embrace.
"Let's go talk to our moms and see if they'll let us explore the woods tomorrow," she said confidently, and then added quietly, "if you still want me to."
"It'll be a lot of fun," was all I could say.
It took some persuading, but my mom came to the rescue and explained how I had spent most of my childhood in those woods and how my skills as a camper and hiker were way beyond my years.
So Denise's mom agreed and the next morning I was sitting at the picnic table just after the sun came up waiting on Denise to arrive and begin our trek and adventure. And I didn't have to wait long.
As she bounded across the yard, I couldn't understand why she would be carrying a purse, however, when she dropped down on the bench beside me, huffing and puffing because of the run from her house, she explained.
"This is a purse I made out of an old pair of my dad's jeans and I brought it because it can just be thrown in the washer and dryer," she said between deep breathes as she dumped it on the picnic table. It was a treasure trove of snacks, granola bars, peanut butter crackers, a couple of apples, a bag of raisins, a plastic bottle of water, a couple of candy bars, oh, and a small roll of toilet paper.
"WOW!" I exclaimed. "Now I see why girls carry purses!" I laughed as she gave me a dirty look and began to put everything back into the bag.
Slinging the long strap across her shoulder, she sighed and said cheerfully, "Well, let's go!"
And we were off.
We walked into the woods and past the place where I usually dumped my clothes, but not today. I hesitated for a moment and decided that it would be better to wait and see if she even liked being in the big woods before I tried to convert her to being a naturist.
As we slowly and quietly walked the trails, she was looking everywhere trying to take in the beauty that is the wilderness. A bird flew across our paths and she jumped, grabbing my arm as I stopped to let her regain her composure. As we stood there, I shrugged my shoulder to get her attention and nodded my head toward a baby rabbit that was playing near an overhanging bush. She gasped for joy, the bunny heard it and cocked his head before darting beneath the heavy foliage to safety. We continued walking and she released my arm, but grasped my hand instead, our fingers intertwined.
.... There is more of this story ...