I’ve been around. I came to sexual maturity at a young age when my brother and our neighbor locked me in my mother and father’s master bedroom and wouldn’t let us out until I “filled the condom.” This neighbor girl was a good friend of mine, and we never spoke after.
We’ll call her Rhonda. She was a truly beautiful girl. I always felt like an alien creature around girls my age since I came from a family of 4 boys and 1 girl, but Rhonda was way too cool to let me get away with that! From the time my family moved in next door, we would hang out at her place. Always at her place.
I started performing on stage at a very early age. I enjoyed pretending real-life consequences in an imagined world so much more than what was going on with my family at the time. Playing parts, even the Baby Bear in Goldilocks, was a welcome distraction.
I liked to play dress. A lot. There was one time where I wore my Dracula costume past the first of January, with my dear mother “washing it” with too much bleach. Later, of course, I knew she had to have done it on purpose to save me the embarrassment of going back to school in a creepy vampire costume. How did I know? She was a seamstress as well as an RN. Mom was many things and everything to me in those days.
So, I had costumes and masks I played with. Fake blood and rouge for the vampire lips. After mom took my cape away, I started going over to Rhonda’s where we would dress up in women’s clothes and make up and wigs and shoes and hose… It started out as dressing like old ladies, since I could mimic my grandmother like a parrot. Then we started to wear more silk… more undergarments… Even at tender age of eleven years old, I started to get aroused by that sensation. I had no idea what “arousal” meant or what my brother and Rhonda’s brother had in store for us.
The end of 5th grade led to Summer. It was 1978. I wasn’t quite 12 years old and just about every evening I’d show up to our family dinner in some form of drag. Make up or hose or shoes or whatever. My mother would give me grief for not washing up or borrowing clothes from Rhonda. My dad seems to leer at me from behind the evening paper in his hands, mumbling something about the marines setting me right.
My mother drew a graveyard shift and wasn’t to be home until noon every day that Summer. Dad was a corporate juggernaut and pulled 80-hour weeks. We were left pretty much unattended with the olders keeping the youngers“in line.”
Tad, Rhonda’s brother, was a cruel fucker. I had a run in with him when we first moved in where he shoved a dead kitten he found in my face and ridiculed my tears. I was not a fan, though later in high school he took a liking to me in an under the bleachers circle-jerk.
They said they wanted a fashion show. They wanted to judge which one of us could pretend to be an old lady or a sexy woman the best. If they liked it, we’d all go out to the movies.
So, down in our spacious living room with the 3-inch green-shag carpet, Rhonda and I put on a hell of a show. My brother told Rhonda to come with him, that we had to split up so they could make the decision, so he took her upstairs to the master bedroom.
Tad wanted to see what was under the skirt I was wearing, so I showed him. I was wearing hose with garters, but my tighty whities. He reached down and grabbed my junk through the dress and the hose and the tighty whites and gave it a squeeze saying, “I hope you been practicing.” His grip hurt, but it wasn’t so bad with those garments on. Again, I started to get aroused….
My brother called me up stairs where he waited in front of the closed master bedroom door. “This is the only door in the house that locks. Know why?”
“Cause mom and dad’s stuff is in there and they don’t want us messing with it,” I said.
“That’s where your dad fucks your mom,” Tad hastily interrupted with a sneer, “and they don’t want you guys knowing what they’re up to in there but they’re fucking every night, just like my parents.”
I don’t know where it came from, but Tad suddenly had a Penthouse in his hand. He opened it up and handed it to me with a certain page open. It was a sex scene with two beautiful people fucking in the sand on a tropical island.
“That’s what they do. That’s what you’ve got to do right now,” said Tad as he pushed me through the bedroom door my brother held open. I heard the dead bolt slide into position with a slick “thunk.” I looked down at what I was wearing, a dark green dress with a jungle pattern and white hose. I wore garter belt to keep them up, but no bra (that would be later). I looked down and started taking the stuff off.
I didn’t want my parents to find out. I pounded on the door. “Let us out!” I said. “We’re not going to do it, so you can just leave us alone and let us out,” said Rhonda from under the covers in my parent’s king-sized bed.
After about 20 minutes or so I realized they were gone. I also realized that Rhonda was acting weird with the covers up to her nose and looking… scared, I guess.
“You know, your mom and dad flew up to Tahoe today and won’t be back until Monday.” It was the voice of Tad. (Where was my brother?) “We’re in charge and you’re in there until you fill this up.”
We both looked down as Tad slid 3 condoms under the door.
“Fill them up. Don’t try to fool me because I’ll know. My sister has moles down there, Jimmy. Count them and know where they are and how many. I may change my mind and quiz you.” He said.
“Well, what about lunch? Dinner? We’ve got to eat something,“ Rhonda said.
“I’m sure you guys can figure out where to put your mouths, especially you, Rhonda.”
At the time I thought he was calling her fat, but later I found out the disgusting truth behind those words.
Rhonda started crying as her brother walked away. I held her as I stood there in her mothers dress and garters. We seemed to stand there forever.
Rhonda broke off the hug. I had never seen anyone look the way she did as she took off her mothers dress, then slip, then entirely naked and bare, she slipped into the covers of my parent’s king sized bed.
I was not even 12 years old yet. I climbed into the bed with the garters and tighty whities still on, thinking that I didn’t want to be naked in front of her.
Up until this time I had no idea of sex beyond it was something adults did “when they loved each other very much.” The mechanics and nuances of pleasure were entirely unfamiliar. I barely considered girls and boys to be that much different, so sex was odd to me. I hadn’t even had my first masturbatory experience yet (a salacious tale for another time.)
We went through the motions. I licked her (she giggled and giggled and then said stop) and she put me in her mouth, though I’ve got to state that there is something to be said for actually sucking on the genitals, but it was entirely new to have a mouth down there. As she moved me around in her mouth, she started to caress, pinch and pull my scrotum. It was fantastic. She was working me under the covers. My prepubescent seed was fill my sack and my shaft was getting suddenly hard. I felt lightheaded as she raised her mouth, wet with my pre-cum, to mine and kissed me. I had been kissed before, but this was sticky and she was a little embarrassed as she wiped her mouth and looked at me.
“I could just finish you and spit it into the rubber if you want, “ Rhonda said.
“You don’t have do that,” I put the condom on my prick, thought it wanted to slide right off. “Lay back and lift your knees up.”
She was so wet that I couldn’t get it inside very easily. I shot my load trying.
I had never cum before. It was scary. I was embarrassed because Rhonda seriously had no idea. I rolled off her and suddenly felt like a middle aged husband.
I managed to ask her the only appropriate question I could think of as we were getting dressed: “Was it good you?.” She fought back the tears as she pickup her mother’s clothes and sat on the bed.
“We’re done!” Rhonda Bellowed. I tried to hold her hand which she pushed away and then I put my arm on her shoulder. She shrugged it off, got up and stood by the door.
“And I have the stupid rubber, Tad.” The door was open, and we were set free.
We rarely talked after that. Her family stayed in touch as we moved away, and I stopped think about her. I never stopped thinking about that day, and what was taken from us by a couple of Jr. High School bullies masquerading as siblings.🤑😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳
