Date: Fri, 12 Apr 2013 12:13:46 -0400
From: Greg Norman <gregn624@gmail.com>
Subject: Summer story

Disclaimers: If you should not view this don't look. It contains sexual
contact between youth male and adult.

Donate to Nifty: Do it

PROLOUGE

In order for the reader to understand this story it is important that they
understand some facts about the people and time it occurs in. Firstly, this
is not a fictional story, it is factual. It happened to me starting in the
summer of 1968, when I was 12 years old almost 13.

1968 was a year when the United States was going through great turmoil.
People were arguing over the war in Vietnam, man's hair length, woman's
bras and drugs. In the rural town of West Haven NY, however these were not
great issues. The population of West Haven supported the US government with
the ardor of the blue collar work force. Children were expected to obey
adults (especially their parents), keep their rooms clean, do their
homework and stay out of trouble. Sex was not discussed at any time in
mixed company (adult/child or male/female). Children played outside, and
they only stayed inside if it was bad weather or they were being punished.
There were strict dress codes in the schools. My class was the first sixth
grade class at the new middle school, before this the elementary schools
went to the sixth grade, and you went to the Jr. Sr. High School for
seventh and eighth grades. Children did not curse in front of their
parents.  Words like damn, hell, Christ, and shit were not uttered where
they could be heard adults. The word fuck was never ever spoken if there
was the slightest chance an adult would hear it.

A little bit about me. I am the middle child of three boys. My father is
the Safety Supervisor at a automotive plant nearby to West Haven. My mother
stays at home. Both of my parents grew up during the depression, so we
don't waste anything. My older brother is three years older, and he works
at a local gas station. My younger brother is five years younger, and he is
spoiled rotten. My mother is very prudish, so we are never supposed to go
anywhere in the house undressed. I had a very bad problem with stuttering,
when I was in the fourth and fifth grades, so I have very few good friends.

I was 12 when things started, because of the cutoff for students starting
school, when I was in kindergarten (my birthday being in October), I was
older than most of my friends. I was not a 12 year old Adonis. I was 5ft
3in, and I weighed just over 100lbs. My penis was 4in hard, and I was (and
still am) circumcised. I had a small patch of hair over my penis, but no
other body hair at the time. I started growing pubic hair the summer before
this, and it lead to one of the two near sexual experiences I had prior to
the summer of 1968. I first noticed them while taking a shower at summer
camp, and I couldn't wait to tell my best friend Jimmy Cummings. We were
alone together on late August afternoon, in his tree fort, and I mentioned
that I was growing hair. He asked me to show him, and I pulled the top of
my shorts and briefs down to the base of my penis. He asked me to pull them
down further, but I didn't want to, so he dared me. He stripped off his
shorts and briefs (we were both shirtless), and he dared me to strip too. I
couldn't deny the dare so I stripped. He looked close at the few coarse
brown hairs, and he started to reach for them, when his mother called us.
We both got dressed and left the fort. The incident was never mentioned
until much later in our lives. The other incident was at the end of the
year sixth grade dance at school. Diana Becker and I were behind the
bleachers necking, and she allowed me to touch her breasts over her
clothes, when I tried to put my hand under her blouse she threatened to
have her older brother beat to hamburger.

CHAPTER 1

WE MEET

I was about as pissed off as any 12 year old could be at the start of
summer vacation.  It was the first Monday of vacation, and I was mowing the
back yard at 10:30 am instead of sleeping or fishing or playing baseball or
doing anything else.  Instead here I was running after our 5 hp Higgins
self-propelled reel lawn mower. To make matters worse, because my father
was the safety supervisor at the plant where he worked, I had to wear long
pants, shoes and safety glasses while mowing. I finished the lawn, and I
put up the mower.

It definitely was not fair, that I the only child in my family left at for
the first part of summer vacation. My 3 year older brother David was at my
Great-Uncle Roy's farm for the summer. He was going to be driving tractors,
riding horses and doing lots of great. My 5 year younger brother was going
to spending most of the summer at his best friend's summer cabin on Long
Lake, doing nothing but swimming and fooling around. All of my closest
friends had gone either to summer camp or on vacation. I was the only one
left in West Haven, who had to do chores and not go anywhere exciting.

I changed from my hot sweaty jeans into cutoffs (without underwear) and an
old tee-shirt. My mom would yell, but it was summertime. I told her I was
going to the village, and I left the house. I decided, as I was retrieving
my smokes from my fort, that I would go swimming at Thiesen's pond. The
pond was formed way back in the ice age, when the huge flow of ice dug a
huge opening in the granite opening an underground spring forming the
pond. I walked through the woods to the pond, cursing my misfortune at
being stuck at home for entire summer.

I passed the remains of the old Thiesen Manor, and I followed the overgrown
hedges until I came to the opening that leads to the pond. The pond was
about 60 foot in diameter, and it was slightly oval shaped. The best thing
about the pond was the fact that almost no one knew it existed. I pulled
off my tee, kicked off my sneakers and dropped off my shorts. I was not
about to go around in wet cutoffs.

This may be a good time to give my description. I was 5ft 2in, 100lbs. I
had straight brown hair that was almost touching my shoulders, blue eyes,
my chest was flat with quarter sized nipples, which got hard in the cold or
when touched. My legs were skinny with just a light dusting of hair, but my
feet were large. My peter was about 2in soft and 4 ? in hard, and I had a
small tuft of pubic hair above it. My testicles had descended. I was a
pretty average looking 12 year old boy.

I swam for about 30 minutes, until I was cooled off, and I let the sun dry
me on the stone edge of the pond. I pulled my shorts back, after I dried
the few damp spots with my tee-shirt. I walked out of the hedges shirtless,
and I walked the trail towards West Haven. I was surprised to see the grass
had been mowed by the old caretaker cottage on the estate grounds. I saw an
older pick-up truck parked by the back of the cottage. As I needed the back
I put my shirt on, and I saw a thirtyish y/o man dressed in jean shorts
with no shirt sitting on the concrete pad by the back door of the cottage.
I noticed that the cottage had been scraped and painted, since I last had
been this way. The man lifted his hand in a wave, and he waved me over.

"I have a great deal for my man," he said to me, "I will trade you one of
these ice cold Miller ponys for one of those cigarettes you have in your
pocket." I didn't know how he knew I had smokes, but I wasn't about to turn
down that offer.

"Ok, that's a deal," I replied.

"Name's Chuck, Chuck Swanson, glad to meet you. You saved me a trip to the
metropolis of West Haven." I laughed at his humor.

"Greg Norman, I was just headed that way. It's nice to meet you too." He
handed me an ice cold beer from his cooler, and I offered my smokes to him.
I sat next to him, and I opened the beer. It was the first time I ever had
a whole beer for myself, and I wanted to savor the experience. He lit his
smoke, and leaned back against the wall.

"If you are interested in making some money, I need someone to scrape the
rest of this wall and prime it for me. Pays $5.00 cash money." Five dollars
was great money for a 12 y/o in 1968, so I agreed to do it.

I started to scrape the old paint from the clapboards, and I was having a
hard time getting the paint to chip off. Chuck came up behind me.

"Greg slow down a little," he said as he reached for the scraper, "I
sharpened this today, so it is going to do the work. You just need to use
it the right way. Here let me show, ok?"

I nodded to him, and he reached around me guiding my hands. He showed me
how press down and pull the scraper to me with long strokes. He watched as,
I tried it on my own.

"Great, keep on doing it just like that, and you be done in no time." he
encouraged. He went to work framing a roof over the concrete landing, and
by the time I had most of the wall scraped, he had the rafters in place. I
had to pee, so I put down my scarper.

"I got to go pee," I told him, "I'll be right back." I went to the edge of
the woods, and I let loose a stream of beer pee. I returned to scraping,
and soon I was finished with the wall. Chuck looked it over, and pointed a
few spots that needed more scraping. When he was satisfied with my work, he
got a can of white primer out of his truck, and he set up a ladder on the
wall.

"Just take your time, and cover all the clapboards like this." He showed me
how he wanted me to paint them, and he watched as I climbed the ladder and
painted the first couple of clapboards.

"Good work, keep on going just like that," he said, and he went back to the
roof. The afternoon progressed, and I finished the wall, and he finished
with the roof. I liked the fact we could work side by side, and he treated
me like an adult. As I was cleaning the brush, he offered me another beer.

"I better not," I said, "I have to get home pretty soon, and my mom will
flip out, if I have beer on my breath."

"Not a problem, I understand," he replied, "hey, you want to catch a buzz
instead?"

"What do you mean," I asked?

"Smoke some pot," he said, "you know grass."

"I would like that," I returned, not wanting to seem scared, but my heart
was pounding. I was being offered a chance to get high, which all the
school kids my age had warned about repeatedly, so we couldn't wait to see
what it was all about. "but, I can't still got to think about what mom
would say."

"Well anytime you want to, and I am here I'll turn you on."

"Could I come back tonight," I asked, "I'm planning on sleeping out in my
fort, and I could come over at 10:00 or 10:30"

"That would be cool," he said, and he handed me a $5.00 bill from his
wallet. "You do good work, I'll see you tonight."

I put the bill in my pocket, and thanked him. I walked back to my house
thinking about the offer to get high. I was scared, but I was anticipating
doing it. I would show everyone, that I could have a great time, while they
were off doing boring shit. The idea got better and better in my young
imagination, as I considered it. By the time I reached my house, you
couldn't have changed my mind with a hammer. I never considered that Chuck
might have a hidden motive for inviting me to get high with him.

I think I will leave you here. In chapter two things become a lot more
heated. Please send any comments to gregn624@gmail.com