Coming Home from the Pool

[Datom]

"Hey, Kev! Where ya goin?"

I heard my friend’s voice calling to me out of the pool, where about twenty-five boys and girls were playing. It was a warm day in mid-August, when summer vacation was waning, and we kids at the pool wanted to get every minute of fun we could into the remaining days of summer.

I waved back. "I'm just going home for lunch. I'm coming back after lunch, maybe," I called to my sixt-grade friends in the water. I grabbed my towel, which had I had hung on a wooden sign that said "Brentwood Municipal Pool," and wiped my face. I looked around for my tee shirt, then remembered that I hadn't worn one that day, because it was so hot.

"Be sure to come back after lunch!" came the voice of Adam, my friend, who was still in the water. "We want to get up a team to play 'Submarine,' and we need you!"

I waved back, "Yeah, sure!" I shouted over the pool noise. I leaned over and slipped my sandals on my bare feet. Then I turned to the gate that led to the parking lot.

As I walked out, a couple of girls from the area were coming in. "Hi, Kevin!" they called to me. I waved back, but didn't say anything. I wished I'd had a tee shirt with me. For some reason, this summer, my mom had bought me a red brief-cut swimsuit, instead of the longer swim trunks that boys my age usually had. She said it made me look more "athletic," whatever she'd meant. All I knew was that I felt like people, especially girls, were staring at me whenever I went to the pool in it. I decided I'd ask mom about getting me another pair of trunks. She’s usually okay about stuff like that.

Walking through the parking lot, I noticed a party of girls from my school coming in. They didn't seem to be looking at me, but I wasn't sure. I guess I was still a little self-conscious. I really wished I'd brought a tee shirt with me. After lunch, I'd be sure to grab one before I came back.

I decided not to go through the parking lot. On one side of the lot, there was a woods, and through the woods was a trail, beaten down by numerous kids who'd short-cut over to Ingram Street. The trail would be relatively isolated, I figured--better than walking down the street in front of all those houses. Geez! I thought---this swimsuit is really making me feel exposed!

Veering off to the right, I walked to the edge of the parking lot, and found the trail. It led through a stand of pine trees, then wound through some tall grass, past a group of oak trees, then through a meadow and out to Ingram Street. Walking though the pines and the grass, I slowed down a little. I had plenty of time to get home.

As I approached a bend in the trail, near the oak trees, I heard voices in front of me. Someone else using the trail, I thought. Oh, well, there's room here to let them pass.

I rounded the bend, and saw two older girls coming toward me.

"Oh, look, Carrie!" giggled one of them, pointing at me, "A little boy!"

The girls stood about a head taller than me. They were probably in eighth grade or so. The one who'd spoken was wearing jean shorts, and a black tee shirt with a picture of a horn on it, and the legend "Horny Girl" right below. She had blonde hair, done in a ponytail. The other girl, the one called Carrie, was dark-haired, and dressed in short shorts and a pink camisole. They seemed to tower over me as they approached.

I stepped to one side, backing up next to one of the oak trees, to let them pass. But they didn't pass. They stopped and stood right in front of me, studying me, with grins on their faces.

"Look at this cute little boy, Linda!" giggled Carrie.

"Aww! He looks so adorable! With nothing on but this little tiny swimsuit!" gloated Linda. She knelt down in front of me and grabbed one of my arms.

"Let go of me!" I yelped. I realized that Carrie had grabbed my other arm and had moved behind me. It was all so fast—they had caught me completely off guard.

"Okay," purred Linda. “We'll let go of you in just a minute, Little Boy!" She kept her grip on my arm. "What grade are you in"

"Sixth," I grunted.

"Sixth grade? At Vinson School?" Linda seemed amused.

I nodded.

"Do you know Elizabeth Wells?"

"Yeah. She's in my class." I was surprised. Yes, I knew Elizabeth. She sat right next to me in several classes. She was always grinning at me. One time she'd borrowed a pencil from me, and when she gave it back she'd passed me a note that had said "Thank you," with a bunch of little hearts drawn around the sides. When I had seen the hearts, I’d though it was nice, but I was also a little creeped out.

"Elizabeth is my cousin," Linda explained.

"Okay," I tugged at my hand, to try to get away from Linda. "So she's your cousin. Now, will you let me go?"

"Oh, in a minute." Linda said absently. "As long as I have you here, I just want to look you over." She giggled. “I like catching little boys and looking at them—especially when they have nothing on but little shorts.” She was looking down at my bare thighs. "You have cute legs." She knelt down in front of me and began to examine my legs. Her free hand reached and touched the inside of my thighs. Her fingertips slipped between my thighs and began to rub up and down. Feeling her hand down there made me shiver, and I tried to pull back, but Carrie was behind me, holding me firmly in place.

"Cut it out!" I yelped.

"Awwww! I'm sorry!" Linda purred. "Am I making you nervous, Little Boy? Does it make you nervous when I rub your little legs?" She continued stroking my thigh, sliding her fingers all the way to the top, just touching the crotch of my swimsuit.

"Hey! Cut that out!" I started to kick with my right leg. Immediately Carrie reached her leg from behind me and wrapped her ankle around my calves. Now my legs were pinned so I couldn't move them.

"You know, Little Boy," Linda purred, "you shouldn't be nervous about letting me touch your legs. You have such adorable little-boy legs. I like rubbing them." She stroked up and down on the inside of my thighs, each time just touching the crotch of my swimsuit.

“And look at that little belly button!” Carrie chimed in.

Linda grinned. She slurped the end of her finger loudly with her tongue. Then she touched her wet fingertip to my bellybutton and rubbed it. Her finger felt cold on my bare stomach.

“I like this little belly button,” she purred. “It’s a real little-boy belly button.” She rubbed her finger back and forth on my bellybutton. I squirmed. “See? It’s an outie!” She rubbed some more. “I like touching little boys on their bare belly buttons.”

"C'mon! Please let me go!" I pleaded.

"Okay," Linda agreed. "In a minute. First I just want to rub your little nipple. Just a little bit," she smirked. She slurped as she licked her finger again, then reached her wet fingertip up and touched me lightly on my left nipple. I shivered.

"Uh-oh!" Linda started making light circles around my nipple with her finger. "Am I making you nervous again, Little Boy?"

I realized that I was starting to tingle, through my whole upper body. Linda looked up at Carrie, who was now holding me by both arms, and winked. "I like rubbing a little boy's nipple! It's fun!" She grinned. "I like making him get his little nipple nice and hard and perky--just--for--me!" I felt myself tingling as Linda's finger tapped my nipple a couple of times. I realized that it had turned hard, like a little pebble.

"Ooooh! Look!" Linda chortled. "Look how nice and perky it is!"

Carrie reached from behind with one hand and flicked it over my erect nipple a couple times. "Yeah! Nice!" she agreed. I shivered, as I felt her finger playing with my hard nipple.

Linda grinned and slurped on her fingertip once again. She rubbed her wet finger around once again on my nipple. Then she blew gently on my damp nipple. My entire body tingled, and I shivered.

“I think that makes him nervous when you do that,” giggled Carrie.

"You know what, Little Boy?" Linda looked down at my swimsuit and grinned. "As long as I have you here with nothing on but your little swim trunks . . . ," she paused as she touched the front of the elastic on my swimsuit. She flipped it over, revealing the white drawstring. I shivered as I felt her fingers playing with the drawstring, "I think I'll just push down your swim trunks and have you show me your penis!" She laughed. "Would you like that, Little Boy?"

Her finger landed on the front of my trunks, and she giggled, and wiggled her finger.

I struggled as hard as I could. Now Linda reached for the sides of my swim trunks. I tightened myself as much as I could, and clamped my legs tightly together.

Linda stopped. She let down her left hand, and with her right hand she started gently stroking my bare belly. Her index finger touched my belly button, and started to caress it. "Oh, no!" she said in mock horror. "Am I making you nervous, Little Boy? Are you nervous about letting me see your penis?"

"I think he's embarrassed," offered Carrie. "I think that he doesn't want you looking at his little boy-parts."

Linda nodded. She rubbed my belly button again and looked up at him. "Is that it, Little Boy?" she cooed, in mock sadness. "Are you embarrassed? Are you ashamed to show me your little penis?"

Her fingers slipped under the elastic and pulled down my swimsuit. I struggled to free myself from Carrie’s grip, but to no avail—I was helpless. I felt Linda’s fingers tugging down the waistband, pushing my swim trunks down, exposing my genitals for her amusement. I felt the air passing across my crotch as my private parts came into Linda’s view. Linda looked at them and took my penis in her fingers. I shivered. I had never been naked outside before and had certainly never bared my private parts for anyone, especially a girl.

“Oooo-eeee!” let out Carrie. “What a cute little penis!”

"See? You shouldn't be ashamed of your penis, Little Boy!" Linda began kneading my penis gently between her fingers. "You have an adorable little penis! In fact," she stopped kneading and looked me straight in the eyes, "I'll just bet that the girls in your class would love to see your little penis!"

I had never felt anyone else touch my penis before--certainly not a strange girl. As I felt her fingers sliding up and down my penis I felt shivers going up and down my spine. I tried to struggle but it was no use. Carrie had gripped me tightly around my chest with one arm, pinning my arms against my body. The fingers of her other hand flicked back and forth across my bare nipple. Her leg was clamped securely around my ankles. There was no escape.

“Look at those cute little balls!” Linda exclaimed. She touched the bottom of my testicles with her finger and began to rub them gently. Her finger slid lightly up to the underside of my penis, and traced a line slowly, from the base to the tip. “I like all these little veins inside it,” she purred. “And I like the little ridge at the tip.”

"Rub it," Carrie said. "Rub it and see how big and pointy you can make it get!"

Linda started to rub my penis between her fingers. I could feel it getting bigger and firmer. It was starting to stick out on its own. Linda chuckled, and kept rubbing. The sexual stimulation was terrific—I felt my penis was about to burst.

Then suddenly she stopped. She let go of me and stepped back. She pulled out a cellphone from her pocket and tapped on it. Holding it up she smirked "Smile, Little Boy! Keep that penis nice and perky for me!" and, pressing on the cell phone, she took a picture of me, held from behind by Carrie, with my shorts pulled down and my erect penis sticking out.

"Hey!" I yelped. "What'd you do? Did you just take a picture of me?"

Linda grinned. "It's okay, Little Boy," she cooed, stepping forward and touching me lightly on my bare chest. "I like taking pictures of little boys' penises.” She chuckled. “Your little penis is so cute! I'm just going to add it to my collection."

She stepped back again and started tapping on her cellphone. She looked up. "I'm sending your picture to my cousin Elizabeth," she explained. "I think Elizabeth will like having a picture of your little penis. Then she can keep your penis in her cellphone.”

“Yes,” added Carrie. “Then Elizabeth can take out your penis and look at it anytime she wants to.” She snickered.

“In fact," Linda winked at me, "I'll just bet that Elizabeth will forward your penis to all her little friends. Then she can share your penis with all the girls in your class! Won't that be nice?" She giggled. “Just think—all the girls in your class looking at your penis!”

I gasped in horror. Bad enough that I'd had to submit to this humiliation here with Linda and Carrie. But now, I'd have to be humiliated in front of my whole class. School started in just another week. How was I ever going to go to class and face all those girls, knowing that they'd all have seen that picture of my private parts? They’d be looking at me, thinking about my naked crotch. They’d be copying that picture, printing it off, sticking it up on my locker. They'd all be giggling at me. And Elizabeth Wells would be the worst!

I barely heard Linda, "Okay, Little Boy. You can go now. We're all finished with you." Carrie's iron grip on my arms was released, and the two girls turned and went matter-of-factly on their way down the trail, leaving me standing there in the woods, totally humiliated, with my shorts around my ankles.
~~~~~

[Jeepman89]

Funny story. Hope it continues.

[NudeBaG]

Love this story!!
What are the ages, if I may ask?

[TeenFan]

This is what I think the ages are.
The two 8th grade girls would be 13-14
The 4th grade boy would be 9-10.

Perhaps a little youngish?

[Datom]

What's going to happen to Kevin when he goes back to school and has to face all the girls in his class?

I'm posting a sequel to this. "Going Back to School" at viewtopic.php?t=4305

[Datom]

I've changed the age a bit. Kevin, the narrator, has been promoted to the sixth grade. So he's about 11 or so.

[Datom]

There's now a third Kevin story, "Going to the Halloween Party" viewtopic.php?t=4368