The History of a Secret
That night I crawled out of my bedroom window, which was on the second floor, lowering myself with a short rope. I left the rope there, since it was necessary to let myself back in, and then climbed over the fence to reach the front of the house.
My parents’ house was situated on a cul-de-sac, with the road curling around a knoll of grass, trees and shrubs in the middle. This knoll was the island. At the top of the island was a bench, upon which I sat and waited. I was very early. My household had fallen asleep well before ten and I had grown impatient.
The night was warm and I had dressed lightly, in linen slacks and shirt, which hung loosely about my body, and let the wind blow throw the fabric and cool my skin.
After a long wait, Erica appeared out of the shadows, close to the appointed hour. She wore a loose white dress, with a ribbon around the waist and a matching ribbon in her hair. As she walked, the dress moved, to expose her thighs, which were lean and strong. Silently, she gestured for me to follow her.
She’d planned ahead, and had parked her brother’s car around the corner, out of earshot of the house. Upon stepping inside, she revved it up and sped us away. At my request, we drove down to the location of my old elementary school. There was a park across the street from the school, and Erica parked in front of it.
In the park, large sprinklers cast spurts of water in spinning arcs over the broad stretches of green grass. Erica immediately chased in the direction of the sprinklers, sprinting across the grass beneath the water and getting herself wet once again. She kicked off her shoes and threw off her dress, tossing them to the edge of the grass, and then went skirting back and forth in her white underwear. She was a long lanky girl with a boyish figure. She was not too unlike I last remembered seeing her, but she was now accented with the soft, rounded curves of a woman. I jogged not too far behind, taking off my shirt and shoes and pants carefully before moving into the sprinklers’ range. I then folded them and placed them in a dry spot before I followed after her.
Beneath the sprinklers I tried to grab her water-slicked body, which was slippery with the wet, but she eluded my grasp and ran away. I continued to try to catch her, but her long legs zipped her over the surface of the grass. She pulled off her bra and tossed it towards me while she still ran. Then she stepped out of her panties and tossed them straight into the air. She had waxed herself down below, making her look just as hairless as she’d been when I’d first seen her.
After some more dancing about, she then turned and lunged for me and ripped off my underwear with a violent stroke.
I tackled her to the ground and tried to kiss her, but she stopped me with her hand. “Not so easy, Donny,” she scolded, “You haven’t earned it yet.” I asked her how I would earn it, and she replied, “What would you do for a kiss from me?”
“I don’t know,” I stammered uncertainly, “Is there something you’d like me to give you or buy you?
“No! What would you do?” she said with emphasis, “What would you endure?”
I suggested, unsure, “I can do a favor for you.” I looked around, and then noticed her pieces of clothing strewn all around, getting wet, and suggested, “I’ll collect your clothes and lay them out so they’ll dry.”
She laughed a little, saying, “Should I feel insulted?” Laughing some more, she said, “Okay, for the first kiss, we’ll start easy. But hurry.”
So, I collected her dress, her shoes, and her two pieces of underwear. I spread them out near my clothes in a dry area.
I then returned. She was sitting up on the ground now. I leaned down to kiss her, which she reciprocated, then pulled away after only a moment, saying, “That’s all you’ve earned so far. It wasn’t a very big favor. Now, what will you do for your second kiss?”
I looked around and saw a small bunch of flowers growing next to a tree about fifty yards away, and I said, “I’ll go pluck a flower over there for you and bring it back.”
“No,” she says, “You will go pluck two flowers. And the faster the return, the better you will be rewarded.”
I sprinted in the direction of the flowers, quickly snatched three out of the ground, and was back at her feet, breathless, holding out the flowers for her.
“You’ve done very well,” she said, taking the flowers and smelling them, “And these flowers are very nice; so you will be well rewarded.”
She then grabbed my hair and kissed me firmly on the mouth, pushing her tongue again inside. She breathed heavily and her body rubbed against mine. I was growing excited, but she restrained me, as if telling me not to rush or move ahead too quickly.
When she pulled away from me, she now said, “You’ve done well. So, I’ve decided that I will allow you to earn the privilege of kissing me,” then pointing with her finger, “down below. And I stress that it is a privilege.”
She continued, “I won’t make it too hard. All you have to do is run all the way to the school, naked, touch the wall, and then run back. And I’m going to time you. You have a maximum of two minutes.”
I looked at her, thinking to raise an objection, then she started counting, “one, two, three, four …” and I immediately started off at a full run.
She watched me in the distance, as I raced across the road, up the sidewalk leading to the school, touched the nearest wall with one hand and ran back. The cement of the sidewalk and the asphalt of the road chafed my feet, which were glad to be back on the grass.
When I was at her feet again, I was breathing heavily. She had only just reached one hundred, and was thereby quite impressed: “You have done well.”
She lay down, then continued, “Now you may pleasure me. And if you do well, you will be rewarded for your efforts.”
I kissed her body a few times. Water beaded on her and goose bumps pocked her skin all over. Her small breasts were firm with cold, and I softened her nipples with my kiss. I then opened her legs wide open and made her cringe with pleasure as I touched her with my mouth.
Slowly she warmed up and her skin softened. She squirmed, and I continued forward as she gradually moved upwards towards her climax.
As she approached her orgasm, her muscles flexed, her back arched and she cringed with pleasure, screaming out with her full voice.
After relaxing and catching her breath, the hypersensitivity of her body, caused her to quiver all over whenever I touched her. She pulled my lips towards her for a long kiss, pulling my body into an intimate hug while she kissed around my face.
But she finally restrained herself and now said that I need only go to the car and fetch her purse.
I quickly fetched the purse and handed it over. She found some condoms, admonishing, “Not yet,” as she then ordered me to place the purse in a dry place away from the sprinklers, which were still occasionally spraying us with wet.
Once I returned Erica forced me to the ground with a surprising vigor, fixing my hands to the ground and ordering me not to move them on pain of castration by mastication, as she snapped her teeth. She kissed me all over winding her way down to my anxious erection, which she took in her mouth.
She sucked on it for a little while, but then grew hasty and gave up breathlessly, telling me, “That’s all you’ve earned so far. But I’ll let you finish inside me if you endure one last trial.”
She looked in the direction of the school grounds as I enquired, “What trial?”
In the front of the school was a large playground area mostly covered in gravel and dirt, with swings, tetherball poles, a jungle gyms, slides, rings and backstops. It extended around much of the school, broken by cement sidewalks, patches of grass, and blacktop basketball courts and four-square courts.
She said, with a smile, while she looked at the school, “I want you to run around the school, through the gravel, without your shoes on, and, of course, also naked. And I’ll be timing you again. It’s a little bit further, so I’ll give you a bit more time. Say, five minutes.”
I looked at her with a pained expression. “I’ll be generous this time: you may begin when ready,” she said, “I won’t start counting until you go.”
I stood up, leaning in the direction of the school, relaxed but anxious, and then sped off in the direction of the school, at which point Erica loudly began: “300, 299, 298, …”
My feet first felt the rough smoothness of the asphalt road, then the sandpaper coarseness of the cement sidewalk; then I rounded the corner onto the asphalt of the school grounds. But all of this was nothing to the sting of the gravel. I ran across it at full speed, as the gravel ground into the underside of my feet. The winds flowed around my nakedness, and I tried to stay as light as possible as I ran, but there was no way to avoid the barbed slap of the gravel against the sensitive bottoms of my feet. The patch of grass on one side of the school was a pleasant respite, but then it was another jagged stretch of gravel, which was even more painful than the first. The last section was a rough stretch of sidewalk, which pounded hard against my feet. Finally, I was crossing the street again, running awkwardly, so that I would land on the edges of my feet, and avoid the bottoms of the feet, which were in great pain.
I heard her say in the distance, “20, 19, 18,” and speed up the counting as I got closer. Again the grass of the park was a relief, which soothed my aching feet, and brushed them with the cool wet of the water.
I dropped to the ground as soon as I arrived, to relieve my tender feet, sprawling on the ground and grasping my feet in my hands.
Erica crawled towards me seductively. “You almost didn’t make it. And are your poor feet hurting?” she said before slapping the bottom of one of my feet with her hand. I cried out with pain, and she said, “Oh poor baby! Let me soothe you,” as she pressed her skin against me and kissed me on the neck.
Erica rubbed her entire body — warm and dripping with water — against me, and it slipped across my skin. When she was ready, she finally straddled her two legs over me, and guided me inside her with one hand.
She lay on top of me, pressing her full weight upon me and breathing into my ear.
Every little thing about her was new and exciting: the feel of her skin, the particular way she breathed, the noises she made, the way she moved, the shape of her body. She released the excitement that I hadn’t realize had been pent up for far too long. I was let go, released, emptied, and once more new all over again.
When she finished, she lay beside me on the ground, resting her head on my shoulder as the beads of sprinkler water dripped upon us.
The sprinklers finally shut off and we were left to dry in the open air of summer. My thoughts, at that moment, sprang to my fiancé, Melinda. “If she were here, I wouldn’t have make this mistake,” I thought to myself, ineffectively egging my guilt on. But, as I turned to the side to look directly into Erica’s piercing eyes, I realized I would’ve felt guilty if I hadn’t done it, and, in my mind, I thought to myself, “What I would have missed.”