The Best Thing 2

By Elixir Soup

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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It started small.

You and I met outside my house on my front lawn the next morning, after having spent all afternoon chatting about anything that came to mind.

You'd learned so much about me in that one afternoon... But I hardly knew anything about you. This immutable fact would persist until the end of the summer.

The few toys that were unpacked, we played with. The few boxes that were empty, we played in. The few times we got bored with those, you ran over to your house, leaving me sitting there and lonely for what seemed like an eterity of coldness, before running back with a different toy every time, instantly returning the warmth to my life.

You were naked every time.

You were always naked. I never even saw you wear shoes, yet the grass and dirt never bothered your feet. But you never encouraged me to be naked. It... It was odd, for a seven year old to be thinking this, but... Wouldn't a boy who, for some bizarre reason, was always naked, want to encourage his female playmate to be naked as well? You never so much as hinted at the idea of me being naked, not even when we played doctor. I was always the doctor, though, and when we played cowboys and indians, I was always the cowboy. Though... when we played knights and princesses, I was always the princess. You were always a naked knight.

I should've mentioned that knights wear armor, but I never did. I was too shy to even draw attention to your nudity, especially since you never seemed to notice it yourself, even though I spent well over half the time we spent together staring at your thing. Sometimes in shock, but usually, and more so over time, fascination.

Part of me felt it was unfair You were always naked. I knew what you looked like without a stitch on. You'd only, at most, seen my shins when my ankle-length dress would ride up while sitting down on the grass with my legs sticking straight out. Part of me, in my childhood innocence, wanted to be naked with you, show you mine like you always showed me yours, make it fair. But I was too shy, and the Catholic upbringing of my parents made it a miracle I could even stand to be around a naked boy all day as it was. One day, just to see if I could take a 'baby step,' I didn't wear my usual cartoon panties during our playdate. My dress was too long for anyone to notice, let alone you, but I went back to wearing undies the very next day. It felt so weird and I was constantly nervous you would notice, even though... Well, I had done it for you, and thus it would've been natural for me to want you to notice, but... Wow, so many conflicted emotions at that time in my life. But then again, I was only seven years old. Who has their feelings fully worked out at seven?

One time, not long after our first meeting, as I played with a toy truck and you were pantomiming something with a doll, you crawled onto your hands and knees to reach for a nearby dinosaur, leaving your butt right in my face. My cheeks went scarlett, but I also couldn't really take my eyes off your penis and small sack, dangling there like a windsock, swaying back and forth. But something odd happened. Almost like some kind of robot toy, it transformed. My bespectaccled eyes stared, transfixed, as it got longer, wider, and stiffer. A small squeak escaped my lips which, unfortunately, caught your attention.

"Hm? What's wrong, Rosie?" You asked.

I merely shook my head, not even able to utter a word. As you turned around and sat down, my eyes locked onto your penis, watcing as the turgid appendage bobbed with your movements and even smacked against your thighs. Amazingly, it was not the slap to your leg that alerted you to my distress, buy my eyes seemingly hypnotized by its movements. Your gaze followed mine and a lighthearted laugh eased by nervous tension, if only a little.

"Oh, that! Yeah, that happens sometimes. Mom says it's normal and I shouldn't worry." To my astonishment, you gave it a tap on the side, causing it to fall onto your thigh, still hard as a rock. My eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. "Wanna touch it?"

"NO!" ..... Is what I wanted to shout, but nothing came out when I attempted to scream besides a sound akin to a dying mouse. Instead I shook my head, incredulous at the mere suggestion of touching such an item. Even an item as hypnotically fascinating as that one.

"Alright. Suit yourself." A casual question, a casual dismissal. It boggled my mind how a boy my age could be so uncaring for his own nudity, letting his penis sway and bob with his movements out in the open on my front yard. What if my mother or father had looked outside and saw you?

The dinosaur retrieved, you returned to pantomiming your game, as if the interaction was like any other exchange of pleasantries to you. Looking back, I should've known I was only getting more and more drawn in.

Weeks passed. It became August. I realized we couldn't play in my front yard when I noticed one too many cars passed by and saw you naked, not like you cared. We gradually migrated to my back yard. My back yard was mostly bare save for an empty patio and a tool shed, but it was completely open and allowed for a lot more running around than my still box-cramped front yard. I saw your thingie bounce around so much I'm surprised steam didn't come out of my ears, and I'm fairly certain you saw my undies once or twice, but you didn't show any reaction... much to my secret disappointment.

Your back yard, on the other hand, was completely boxed in with tall fences. When you offered to take me to your back yard, I assumed I would get to finally see the inside of your house. But no. There was a secret hole in the bottom of the fence that you squeezed through. My breath hitched in my throat when I saw your boyhood rub against the grass and dirt as you crawled through.

I only barely fit. I was a bit pudgier than most girls my age and I swear I felt my dress tear in the back at one point. You assured me my dress was fine, but I didn't believe you until I checked it later that night. It was. You would never lie to me.

I could see why your back yard was so hidden, though I assumed the wrong reason. It was a child's wonderland. Little did I know, the back yard was so private for the same reason I found you so bizarre and mysterious...

A swing set, a sand box, an above-ground pool, and even a tree house. You told me I was the first girl to see your "secret clubhouse," which made me the first and only member of your "secet society." This was my first hint that you would be a leader, even if I was your only follower for a long time...

The pool was a point of interest for me. I'd never seen one before. I didn't even know how to swim. You noticed me staring at it and asked if I wanted a swim. I said I had no swimsuit and your answer baffled me for many years...

"What's a swimsuit?"

"Um... Wh-What?" I questioned in disbelief, gradually becoming more comfortable with my whiney Mexican twang the more I spent time with you.

"What's a swimsuit?" You repeated, as if my question was out of not hearing you, rather than disbelief.

"It's like... A costume... You wear while swimming," I explained, tapping my fingers together nervously. I lowered my gaze out of embarrassment, but my eyes only landed on your dangling, lightly dirt-smuged penis.

"Why would you wear something while swimming?" You asked in total seriousness, clearly curious of a new concept.

I was again confounded to no end. "B-Because... Um..." I stammered for a proper response. How does one explain social norms when you don't usually think about them? "Th-Then how do you swim?"

"Naked. How else?" You stated like it was obvious.

My face turned so red that I was afraid the blood would pool to my head and leave none for my heart. Along with the erection incident, this was among the first times you had ever actually acknowledged your own nudity, even in an indirect way, and it left me flustered beyond all reason.

"S-S-So, h-h-how do your m-m-mommy and d-d-daddy swim?" I dared to ask.

"Naked. How else?" You repeated.

I'm fairly certain I nearly fainted at the idea. At the time, as an only child, I had no idea your family was far bigger than mine, nor did I realize the implication for your family's proclivities. If I had known either of those at the time, I'm quite certain I would have passed out, or possibly turned to stone.

"L-Look, I just can't swim without..." Giving up on explaining swimsuits to you, I went a different route of logic. "G-Grownups around! Y-Yeah! We need our mommy or daddy watching if we want to swim."

You scratched your head, your neatly-trimmed nails combing through your sunflower petal tresses. "Oh. I guess you're right, Rosie. Anyway, which do you wanna play in first? Swimsuit? Sandbox? Club house?"

I felt my breathing stop. "Um... Wh... Wh-What was that first one, Arden?"

"Swingset," you explained.

"Oh... Heh... Right..." I always had a vivid imagination, especially when flustered. Right now, like seventy-five percent of all my time with you to this day, I couldn't take my eyes off your fascinating thingie. It subtly twitched under my gaze, a motion I found downright mesmerizing. "I guess we can play in the, uh..."

"Right, club house it is! Let's go!" You exclaimed.

Funny, I was going to say the treehouse. That was the odd thing about you, Arden... You always seemed to be able to tell what I was going to say before I said it. You never finished my sentences, leaving me to speak my own words. But to you, in private, if I was too afraid to say what I wanted to say to you, you said it for me. Even on the day I confessed to you... In comparison, to this day, I can't tell what you're thinking. In fact, I've given up trying. You can always tell when and what is bothering me, but I always have to ask.

But then, you did something unexpected... You grabbed my hand.

Well... maybe 'grabbed' is the wrong word. You embraced it. You took my hand in yours. For a kid who played so rough and was always naked and half the time covered in dirt, this was surprisingly the first time you had made skin-to-skin contact with me despite how much skin you showed yourself. Yet you were so gentle. I'd never felt a hand embrace mine with such care, not even from my own parents and grandparents, as if you were afraid you would break me. It was a grand foreshadowing to how you would eventually hug me, hold me, kiss my forehead, but a stark contrast to how you would eventually make love. But I would love it all, just like this first of our many firsts.

Like a runaway prince whisking the peasant girl away to a magical land, you guided me with both speed and care to your treehouse, allowing me to go up the ladder first. Somehow, I never felt your eyes up my dress as you followed me up.

So, there I was. Seven years old and alone in a tree house with a boy my age who was completely naked. You hastily pulled the rope ladder up and closed a hatch on the entry way it hung from, leaving only the windows for our light. There was a small hand-made table perfect for playing cards and board games, though it would also witness a few... unspeakable acts between us in the years to come. There was a chest that was empty now, but soon would be filled with sci-fi comic books, fantasy manga, toys, and eventually erotica and adult toys. One of the windows would soon gain a telescope that we used for stargazing on sleepover nights and peeping on your brothers and sisters naked in their rooms when I thought you weren't paying attention. Much of our discoveries about life, each other, and ourselves would occur in this treehouse, the 'clubhouse for our secret society.'

"You're the first person to be in here except for my papa and pappy, who built it!" You explained excitedly, a big goofy grin on your face.

I blushed, a deep red that spread across my face. I felt special, but not as special as I should have felt. I didn't know it at the time, but I wasn't only the first person to see our clubhouse... To this day, I would be the only person you would ever invite to our clubhouse.

But, feeling special, and feeling a pang of guilt over our unequal states of dress, I reached up and unbuttoned the top button to my dress. I looked at you, but you had gone to look out the window to make sure no one else could see us inside our secret fort, so I got embarrassed and re-buttoned my dress. One baby step out of countless. It would be some time before I would join you in your nudity. By then I would have filled out that old dress in more ways than one.

The playtimes continued well into August. By then I had tried out every exhibit in your backyard except your pool. I had fond memories of watching your penis get covered in flecks of sand in that sandbox, watching it flop up and down in unison with your swinging on the swingset. I wanted to use the pool so bad, though... I tried to work up the courage to ask you. I even had my mother buy me a swimsuit and give me swimming lessons at the public pool. When no one else was there, of course. Even at that age, I'd have died if anyone saw me in even a simple one piece swimsuit. Well, except maybe you. But hindsight is twenty-twenty.

We never did get to swim that summer. I was too shy, too nervous, too distracted and intimidated by your thing, to work up the courage to see it floating. I was even more nervous for you to see me in a one piece swimsuit.

But on the second to last day of summer before school started, you finally met my parents. Mother showed no reaction to you being naked when I first brought you into my house to use the bathroom while she was dusting in the foyer. You didn't know how the toilet worked, so I had to go in with you. For the first, but not last, time in my life, I heard you pee, but looked away out of embarrassment.

Mother immediately took a shine to you, even licking her thumb and cleaning a smudge of dirt off your cheek. Father seemed indifferent to you, but I soon learned that, having only a daughter and no other children, he was overjoyed to see I had made a male playmate that he could baby as his son. He just didn't want to smother you with fatherly affection as soon as he met you because he didn't want to embarrass me. The fact that you were naked, despite our Catholic upbringings, didn't seem to faze either of them, which I found strange. From a very early age, I was stressed by nuns at Sunday school that nudity was a wicked, evil thing, something only Adam and Eve could do, and only before they ate the forbidden fruit. So why were my parents not outraged by your nudity? Was it how young you were? And more importantly... why wasn't I outraged by it? My parents were indifferent. I was... fascinated is the best word I can think to use, even to this day. It was an innocent fascination, but a hint of my awakening much later in life, an awakening that you helped me achieve.

The next day, the last day of summer, you said that since you had met all of my family except my abuelo, who had journed to a casino for the week, that I should meet your family. So for the first time since meeting you two months ago, I saw the inside of your house.

I was surprised. It was much nicer than my house, though I noticed how hot it was inside. I asked you about that and you simply said that it's easier for everyone when it's warm inside. An innocent response to a question I was about to learn the true answer to.

I met your little sister, five years younger than you and me, first. Then I met your brother, three years younger than you. Then your sister, two years older than you. Then your brother, another three years older than that. They all had hair ranging from various shades of brunette to sun-bleached blonde, eyes of several vibrant colors, and all shared your tanned skin. But they were all completely naked!

I didn't know where to avert my gaze to. Your siblings all were as naked as I'd always known you to be. Your oldest brother was the most awkward for me. As a girl who had only ever seen your thingy, I was shocked, mortified, and surprisingly fascinated to see the thing of a twelve year old, an almost-teenager, naked! His thing was so much bigger than yours, and he, errr... had a bit of hair.

You went on to tell me that you had an additional older brother and sister who were currently out of the house. A fifteen year old sister who had gone to the beach with friends and an eighteen year old brother who had just gone off to college for the year.

As shocking as your siblings were to me, the biggest shock came when I met your parents themselves!

Your father, for the luck of what little remained of my childhood innocence, was at work. You said he was a very successful CEO of a major conglomerate and often traveled a lot. Your mother, however, worked from home as a writer. She was thus rarely out of the house, though I neglected to ask what kind of books she wrote, and would not find out for many years.

I walked into the kitchen to see your mother, several months pregnant with twins, washing dishes, a pink apron worn over her swollen belly... and wearing nothing else, much like you and every other member of your familly! Your mother turned to look at me as I stepped into the kitchen, her bright face lighting up even brighter. Drying her hands and taking off her apron for a reason I still can't fathom, she hobbled over to me. She knelt down to give me the biggest, warmest, softest hug I'd ever received at the time, and wouldn't until the first time you hugged me yourself. I distinctly remember my face being smothered by her bare breasts, large and swollen with milk from her current and previous pregnancies.

Evidently, your mother had more common sense than you, as she noticed my bewildered and horrified expression. I had seen more private parts of both genders and several age ranges than any other seven year old girl in the suburbs of Miami at the time and your mother could tell I was confused. So, asking you if she could speak to me alone for a moment, you happily obliged and Mrs. Flowers explained to me just exactly what her, you, and your entire family were...

It was that day that I discovered what a nudist was.

(End of File)