Chapter 13

Four miles away, at a wide bend in Foster’s creek, three other youths met after supper. In this case it was two boys and a girl.

Jesse and Luthor had both, for some reason, expected Johnnie Sue to look different when she loped up to join them. They, like most boys, had begun to look at girls a bit differently than they had in the past. It is difficult not to, once you begin to gather in sexual information, and process it. Once a boy contemplates the possibility that he can have sex, he never looks at girls in quite the same way as he had in the past.

For Johnnie Sue, the difference was that she had found something else to share with her best friends. She didn’t anticipate having sex with them ... that was something only adults did. Miss Flossie said so. But playing sexually was fun, and she liked it a lot. By the time she’d gotten home the pain of her torn hymen was just a nagging little thing, and by the time her chores were done, and supper was over, she had shoved her worry over that to the back of her mind.

When she skidded to a stop in front of her blood brothers, her hands went to her shirt buttons immediately.

“Last one in’s a rotten egg!” she yipped.

The boys started fumbling frantically with their own clothes, their youthful brains unable to decide whether getting naked was the main plan, or avoiding being the rotten egg was more important. At any rate, shortly there were three piles of clothes on the ground, and three naked bodies splashing in the creek.

The norm, in this situation, was to splash each other, push each other, dunk each other, and generally be violent in a competitive kind of way. It wasn’t intended to actually prove anything. It was more like puppies growling and biting and chasing each other around, while their mother looked on in patient approval. If things got out of hand, the mamma dog could step in.

But in this case, there was no mamma to step in, and this play was somehow different than it had been in the past. There was a little more aggression, on both the boys’ part and Johnnie Sue’s. The feel of chasing and pushing was a little more exciting, somehow. The feel of skin on wet skin had always been there, of course, but in the past it had been arms and legs slipping against each other. Now, suddenly, other body parts came into contact, sliding across each other. The boys, when they tackled each other, somehow knew how to mitigate the kind of touch that pressed a penis against one’s temporary rival. But, when they grappled with Johnnie Sue, that urge for mitigation seemed to be missing.

It was almost mind-blowingly fun. Johnnie Sue wrapped her legs around them, pushing her crotch against a hip, or a knee, as she tried to trip them and force their heads under water. Her breasts pressed against a smooth back, as she put her arms around them to lift and throw. When they caught her, their hands slipped all over, frequently across her breasts. Had they done this on land, with no excuse, she would have rebuffed that touch. But here, in the water, it all seemed exciting, though harmless, just the same. When Luthor got the better of her physically, it only seemed fair to grab for his penis, pulling and squeezing as he yelped, letting go. That worked so well with him that she stalked Jesse, reaching for his too, as he backpedaled and cried for her to stop.

She became the huntress, growling, her hands out like claws, laughing at the mock terror on the boys’ faces. When she caught one, she’d maul him with her hands, sliding them all over his butt and between his legs, brushing his balls.

Eventually, they fought back, making lunges to feel between her legs, even though there was nothing there to grab. They managed to squeeze her breasts, but she didn’t seem to care, always grabbing for a penis instead of trying to get away.

All the time, the tension built. It was play, but it somehow became serious play. The penises she grabbed for became erect, and stayed that way, even when she catcalled and made fun of them, accusing them of wanting to have sex with her and calling them dirty little boys.

Finally there came a time when Luthor, when she grabbed his penis, didn’t try to get away any more. He just stood there.

She gave his prick a little squeeze.

“Gotcha,” she said, panting.

“I know,” he said. “That feels really good, Johnnie Sue.”

She pulled at it gently.

“You like it when I do that?”

He nodded.

“If I keep doing it will it squirt, like before?” she asked.

“What are you guys doing?” asked Jesse, yards away.

“I’m rubbing his root, called out Johnnie Sue.

“Hey! You can’t do that!” said Jesse, swimming closer to them.

“Why not?” asked Johnnie Sue.

“You’re supposed to rub your own root, not have somebody else rub it for you,” he said.

“I don’t know about that,” gasped Luthor. “It feels mighty good when she does it.”

“Really?” asked Jesse,” coming closer.

“C’mere, an’ I’ll rub yours too,” offered Johnnie Sue.

“I don’t think so,” said Jesse.

“Come on, Jesse. I like doing it.”

“Really? How come?”

“I don’t know. It just feels nice, that’s all.”

“It sure does,” gasped Luthor.

“Stand up,” said Jesse. “I don’t think you’re really rubbing it. You’re trying to play a trick on me.”

Johnnie Sue led Luthor toward the bank, pulling his prick like it was a leash. He went willingly, and soon the water was around his thighs. Johnnie Sue sat down, waist-deep, facing him, and reversed her hand so her thumb was toward her face. She stroked lovingly.

“Dang!” sighed Jesse. “You really are doing it.”

“C’mere,” urged Johnnie Sue again.

Slowly Jesse moved closer, a half step at a time. As his hips came out of the water they could see he was very hard too. His own hand was wrapped around his penis and he stroked it slowly.

“Let her do it,” gasped Luthor. “It feels really good!”

It did, too. When Jesse finally got close enough, and she batted his hand away from his penis, she grasped it and jerked it in time with the hand stroking Luthor. Jesse’s knees felt like they were going to give way.