Playing 'House' With Emma

by WTSman

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, First, Slow, School, .

Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Some people go through life without ever finding that one special person - or perhaps they find her too late. George actually found her too early. Much too early. How can you 'do the right thing' and still follow your heart?

I met Emma the summer before I started school. Actually, it was her brother Jake I went to meet. We - my Mom my Dad and I - lived in what I'm sure would be called a nice neighborhood. I personally didn't think so as I was practically the only child around - the area was what in my mother's home country is called a 'silver wedding neighborhood' - meaning that everyone living there is old (in the eyes of a 5 year old!!) and their kids have long since left home. So when the house next door was put on the market and bought by a family with kids (plural!) my excitement was at fever pitch - and when Mom learned that one of said kids was a boy my age, my happiness was complete.

In my mind it was a certainty that 'the boy' (name as yet unknown) and I would be best friends forever. So it was with a very positive attitude I went to meet him the day the family moved in. Jake's attitude was markedly less positive. He came from an area full of other kids and saying goodbye to all his friends - just before they were going to start school together - had been hard and he was grumpy. My appearance didn't please him much either. He was into all-American sports like baseball and 'real football', as he called it - and had the physique for it, while I was a scrawny kid that didn't care for sports much, although I would kick a soccer-ball around if forced to do something physical besides swimming.

In a non-too subtle way I was interrogated about which other potential playmates were around. When I had earnestly assured him that I represented the sum total of suitable kids, he reluctantly agreed to play. He showed me round the house first - despite my polite protests that I knew it very well, having been friendly with the previous owners; an elderly couple who occasionally baby-sat me. So round we went, and in the process we walked in on his mother in the process of changing a toddler. I can't claim to remember very much of the conversation verbatim this many years later, but the gist of the exchange in his sister's room got etched in my mind forever.

"Who's that?" I asked

"Oh, that. That's Emma, my sister. She poops and pisses her pants," he declared, making no attempt to hide his disgust.

"All little kids do," I replied sagely, staring at the pink marvel on the change table in deep fascination.

"Do you?" he asked - evidently equating the fact that I was half a year younger (and nearly a head shorter) than him with the possibility that I was a still piss-pants baby too.

"NO!" I exclaimed with some heat. Toilet training had actually been a slow process for me but I had been out of diapers for a long time that summer.

The exact wording of his final remark eludes me. It was something along the lines of "Well, there you are. She is pretty useless!" although I'm sure few 5 year olds, and certainly not Jake, would express themselves precisely that way. Anyway, that was the meaning of it and with that he walked out of the room again.

With considerable reluctance, I dragged myself away from the wonder-of-wonders, a sibling, and completed the tour. As the Ward family was just moving in and few of Jake's things had been unpacked, we went next door to our place. Jake got a reciprocal tour of our house and reluctantly agreed that my room was 'alright'. He was taken in by the fact we had a pool and pestered his mother into finding his swim wear so we could try it out. He tried to play down the fact that I was much better at swimming than him, and later complained bitterly that the only football I had was a soccer ball.

"At least you don't have a piss-pants sister!" was his parting shot when he had summarized pros and cons of the neighborship.

No, I didn't have a sister. I had frequently plagued my parents about siblings, but it never happened. Only later did I learn why, but I am getting ahead of myself.

Jake and I played a lot that summer. As I said, there was no one else, and the pool was a draw card. But I realized early on that we weren't going to be the kind of friends had I had fantasized about - to be honest, I didn't like him all that much. Again, that is an analysis made looking back so many years. At the time I noted that I didn't like the things he liked (physical sports and violent games), and I was astonished that he disliked his little sister so much - in my eyes she was his greatest asset.

When we started school Jake naturally took up with the other 'sporty' kids. It is amazing, really, that you can tell who will be jock and who will be brain from the word go. It didn't worry me all that much; there were other 'brains' and I think I was pretty happy, all things considered.

Our school - unusual perhaps in that it went all the way from K to 12 in one compound, was fairly large. It was set in very large grounds with the various sections (primary, middle, high) having their own buildings and vice principals but with extensive common facilities. The school was called Evesham School - also unusual in that it is not the name of the town but rather the name of some settler who established the first school in the area. In fact there is no Evesham in Iowa and people often asked our sports teams if they were from New Jersey or Florida. But apart from that, it was a pretty ordinary school with its usual razor sharp separations between people of different financial backgrounds on top of the jock/brain division. I was oblivious to that and floated happily along.

Mrs. Ward - Jake and Emma's mother - had noted my interest in Emma and I got invited to her second birthday in October. Jake was again full of disdain, but my mother - in line with the traditions in her home country - had bought a 'consolation gift' that I could give Jake in addition to the present for Emma, and that went down well. Possibly especially because there hadn't been such a gift for Emma on Jake's birthday. Perhaps I am making him worse than he was, but on subsequent birthdays of Jake's (which fell in September) I would always have a small something for Emma too and I remember him reacting badly to it.

As Emma grew she wanted to be in on the games Jake and I played when we were together. I was happy with that and Jake hated it. Emma loved playing 'house', but Jake refused. Not just because of this, although it contributed, Jake and I played less and less and as we went through second and third grade we were rarely together. He would often go to sporting events with his dad (whom I didn't like much either) and I started to go over only when I had seen Jake and his dad drive off, innocently asking after Jake and ending up, as was my plan, playing 'house' and similar games with Emma. In the simple and angst-free world of an 8 year old boy and 5 year old girl, we loved each other in an unconditional and uncomplicated way.

When summer came I taught her to swim and we spent all day in the pool for weeks. At first we were supervised closely by one or the other mother, but soon - as it was obvious we were 'water safe', we were left to our own devices. I had turned 9 and was deemed 'sensible' and 'responsible'.

Swim wear for both of us was the same - either a pair of miniscule swim pants, or - if the weather was too hot and Jake was not there - nothing. Again no angst and no hang-ups. Our mothers may have tried to get us to cover up - I don't recall; the pool was not visible from the road anyway and we were so young. At that age we had no idea being together nude was anything special. But Emma, nude as the day she was born, brown as a nut and a head full of dark auburn curls was a sight to behold. I also tan easily and my short blond hair went almost white during summer.

Midway through the summer holidays, Jake went away on a camping trip with his father. They never returned. I later learned that the Wards had been having major marital troubles, but at 9 I didn't understand what that meant, nor what on earth my dad was talking about when I by accident overheard him say to Mom that 'the bastard couldn't keep it zipped up'. But I knew from previous experience with classmates that 'divorce' sometimes meant 'moving away' and while I wasn't going to miss Jake I went in complete terror fearing that Emma and her mother would have to move too. Luckily, that didn't happen. Although they had it tough financially afterwards (I only learned that a lot later), Mrs. Ward was able to keep the house - and I was able to keep Emma.

So in August Emma started kindergarten at Evesham School while I started 4th grade - the last grade in primary school at Evesham and thus the only time we have ever been in the same section. A lot of kids got driven to school and there was also a school bus, but my mother's background was one of 'Kids ride bikes!' and as there are excellent bike paths from the school to most residential areas of our town, I had been riding a bike to school since the beginning of 3rd grade. At not even 6 Emma was obviously too young to ride a bike and getting her to school was complicated for Mrs. Ward due to her work and she didn't like the idea of Emma going on the bus alone. My mother offered to help as her work hours were better suited to delivering kids in the morning, but I didn't want to stop riding my bike at least one way and a brain wave hit me.

"I'll be happy to walk Emma to school," I said. It wasn't all that far.

"That's really sweet of you George," her mother said, "but remember it has to be every day."

"Well, I go to school every day too!" I retorted.

.... There is more of this story ...

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Story tagged with:
mt/ft / Consensual / Romantic / Heterosexual / First / Slow / School /