Chapter 7: Private Discovery

Aimee and I were both 13 years old ... at least for the month we were. Summer had just started, school was out, and we decided it was time to ressurect the old tree house. Actualy, there was nothing left up in the tree except for a rope tied around a single branch.

We told mama that we wanted to build a new treehouse and she gave us her blessing, knowing it would keep us out of trouble and busy for several weeks at least. Neither one of us were great builders, but we were both smart enough to get help when we knew we were over our heads. So we went to the man who always came through ... Mr. Owens.

He came over and looked at the tree and then at our back yard and suggested that we not build in the tree, that it didn't have enough support, nor were the branches level enough to make a nice fort. He suggested that we simply build or fort on stilts in the back yard. He drew pictures to show us how we could make a nice 8' x 8' fortress on top of four 4" x 4" posts, with walls and a roof.

We watched as he drew and explained how to build it and when he was done, both Aimee and I were excited to get started. The cost of everything would pretty much empty out our allowances that we had been saving since the start of the school year, but it would be worth it. Actually, we were lucky that we built it that summer as at the end of 1968 lumber prices sailed through the roof.

The first day Aimee and I dug 4 holes into the ground and then set in the 4 posts. Mr. Owen brought over his wheel barrow and we mixed up the cement and poured it in the holes. After it set up overnight we began on the 2x6 floor supports. Then the plywood floor went on followed by 4 walls. Finally the overhead roof went on followed by tar paper and rolled roofing. A couple of ladders with a couple of gallons of paint and we were done. You entered our fortress using a ladder which came up through the floor through a trap door. Mr. Owens even found a used window and installed that for us so we had light. It was so cool ... well not in the phsyical sense anyways.

You see, while it kept out the rain, it was pretty hot in the summer in that little fortress. Really hot sometimes. The winters were nice, we could bundle up with blankets. We rarely ever had snow where we lived, but it rained a lot. Spring time and fall time were okay too. But in the middle of summer, even with the window open, it would get like 100 degrees inside our little fortress. But when you are 13 years old, that doesn't bother you much.

During the summer day, Aimee and I spent a lot of time in our fortress of solitude as we called it. Just like Superman's home in the arctic. Denise and Kimberly would be in and out all day long as the college classes dictated, and they both got mad at us if we interferred with their studies at the kitchen table or in their rooms, or in the living room where they read, or anywhere at all actually. We were just in the way, and after a while it got easier to go to our own place and hang out rather than listen to them gripe.

Now you might think that our fortress was the only place we hung out, and that wouldn't be true. On some days I would be over at one of my male friends playing ball or something. Aimee might go to visit one of her girlfriends and do the girl talk thing, or maybe we would both just take our bicycles for a ride to the school playground, or the park, or sometimes we'd go to the YMCA pool to swim. We kept busy doing a lot of things.

Tuesday was one of our favorites as it was .50 cent day at the afternoon matinee. For $2 we could both see the movie and have have a couple of sodas, candy bars, and share a large popcorn. The moviehouse was the only place we went to, well except for the library, that was air conditioned. And on the really hot days, we'd do that ... even if the movie was some stupid thing that neither one of us cared for.

I remember one of the movies we went to that summer was Romeo and Juliet. I didn't much care for it, but Aimee was enjoying it, so I sat quietly, until near the end. Suddenly there they were, in bed together. I remember Romeo getting up and Aimee giggling. His butt was on the screen. Big deal, I thought, I've seen lots of butts in gym class from other guys ... so what. Then they flashed to Juliet on the bed and Romeo was kissing her again and before you knew it, she was flying out of bed, flashing her boobs on the big screen.

"Yeah," I said, "Now that I like."

"Pervert," Aimee whispered, "It figures you'd like that."

"Well, you started it," I said, "You liked that guy's butt."

The movie eventually finished and we rode our bikes home. It was still early in the afternoon and we were quickly chased out of the house by Kimberly and Denise. We managed to grab a couple bottles of pop and made our way to our fortress.

"That movie was so sad," Aimee said.

"Yeah," I agreed, "And boring."

"Boring?" she said, "Please, it was exciting, all that swordplay and stuff."

"I coudn't even understand what they were saying," I said, "But I did like the part where girl was naked."

"I'm sure you did," Aimee replied, "Is that all you think about these days, girls and sex? If that's the case, what ever happened with your pheremone experiment?"

"It didn't work," I said sadly. "I mean I tried, I tried to make the mind control pheremone, but after it was all done, no liquid came out of my fingertip at all. So then I tried to make the amnesia pheremone, and the results were the same, no liquid again."

"Did you try the sex drive pheremone?" Aimee asked.

"Not yet," I said, "Besides who would I try it on? I don't have any girlfriends yet."

"Well not yet, but maybe it would be better if you had it ready so that when you do, you will be ready," she suggested enthusiastically.

Then she added, "Did you know Romeo and Juliet were only 13 years old when they got married? That's the same age as us."

"That guy looked a lot older than 13, and so did the girl!" I said.

"That's just because they are actors," she said. "But in the story by Shakespeare he wrote that she had not seen her 14th birthday ... so that means she was 13."

"I guess people got married early in those days, I know that early Americans were often married off at age 14, and having babies by then too."

"Uggh," she replied, "No babies for me, at least not yet."

"Then you'd better not be having sex," I said matter of factly.

"Do you see me hanging around with any guys?" she asked. "That is not a problem, believe me. But you on the other hand, you'd better be careful if you ever do create a sex pheremone, you might find yourself being a daddy before you are ready."

"In case you didn't notice sister, I'm not hanging around having sex with any girls at all. My only sex takes place alone at night in my bed."

"Ewww, I can't believe you said that," she said as she grimaced making a sour looking face at me.

"What, you mean you don't?" I asked

"Don't what," she replied back.

"You know, don't you play with yourself. You know, don't you masturbate?"

"Do you?" she asked answering my question with a question.

I could see that she was embarrassed to talk about it, and that we had slowly edged each other over the line of total privacy and intimacy.

"If I answer," I said, "Will you be honest and answer as well?"

"Sure," she said, "Absolutely and in detail."

"Okay," I said, "The fact is that I have been playing with myself for about four months now, normally always at night after I've gone to bed. I wiggle it, stroke it, make it hard, and then I keep it up until I squirt sperm out the end of it. Then I clean it all up with a Kleenex and toss it in the wastebasket at the head of my bed. It dries by the morning, looks like it was snot, and then I empty the trashcan once a week as is part of my chores. What about you, now, and in detail like you said!"

"Well, I do it too, but not as often, maybe once every couple of weeks. I started almost a year ago, and by accident. I was just rubbing myself kinda one night while reading a love story, and it got more exciting and so did I. Before I knew it I was exploding and couldn't control myself. I didn't even realize that I had an orgasm until I had done it several more times and talked about it with mom. She explained about it to me."