Erotica Harem

MY COMMENTS WILL BE ** RED:
MY SUGGESTIONS WILL BE BLUE
REPEATING WORDS WILL BE underlined and bolded

Title: "Invalid Item"  (Sweet Sixteen)

Author: TimM

Plot: Plot established.

Scene: I have nothing to add here. I did not feel lost at all.

Character Development: We don’t have a lot of physical descriptions for both these characters (eye and hair color, height, etc.)

Grammar: Okay, this is just a pet peeve of mine, but I’m old school. We were taught to never begin sentences with And, But or However, unless for better emphasis. Most times than not, I find the “But” can usually be incorporated into the sentence itself. I’ve made a notation about the word “then” as well. Remember, please use what you feel is right for you.

Just My Personal Opinion: This was a delightful read, Tim. Being written in first person, of course, I always feel closer to the character because I know his thoughts and feelings. There were a lot of comical undercurrents here and I found myself chuckling at a couple of places, remembering my own “family” camping trips. Well written, Tim

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Please remember that these are only my opinions.
Please use whatever you feel is right for you.
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Sweet Sixteen
I hated camping from the day I was born. Every year my parents made me spend two damn weeks sleeping in a stuffy tent on hard ground, pissing in smelly little boxes that you had to walk a quarter mile to empty(?), and showering in a slimy cubicle with a pipe that drips cold water on your head. I especially hated it when I turned sixteen, got my learner’s permit, got an iPod from my grandma for my birthday, and learned that we were going to celebrate by going to Ochihabie fucking park. I fought like hell, but it was hopeless. My parents said, “Stewart, it’ll do you good being outside, away from all your electronic junk.” Junk? What do they know? They wouldn’t even let me take my cell phone! I wanted to die.

The dreaded day came on August third, a week after my birthday. We loaded up our Volvo station wagon with sleeping bags, foam mattresses, and every other kind of shit no normal person needs, and we left behind everything that I did need, like my laptop and my phone.

The trip took all day. We drove through the gates of our soon-to-be prison just before sunset. I begged to stay in a hotel for the night so at least we could set up in daylight when there weren’t so many mosquitoes and we could see what we were doing. But no, that’s what lanterns are for, they said. Shit.

We found a site that had only about twenty rocks under the tent, not bad compared to some places we had stayed. I had at least talked them into giving me my own little tent, so this was the first time they didn’t make me sleep between them in the big tent. When we were all settled in and my parents had gone to bed, I whipped out my mini flashlight and one of the comic books I’d smuggled in. But I’d gotten only a couple pages into it when my mom’s sweet voice came drifting over to my tent. “Stewart, (comma) honey, turn out the light. We’ve got a big day tomorrow. Remember we’re going hiking to the top of Ochihabie Peak. You need your rest.” Shit. I turned out the flashlight and tried to find the place with the least number of rocks poking into my back.

The next thing I knew the tent was about a hundred-twenty degrees and the sun was blinding me. I looked around for the a clock, but there wasn’t one. I remembered where I was and groaned. Luckily, my morning hard-on was in full bloom, so I wrapped my fingers around the only friend I’d have for the next two weeks and gave it a squeeze. At least one good thing was in the works. I relaxed, closed my eyes, and called up the image of the Playboy centerfold I kept in the back of my closet at home.

“Stewart, honey, breakfast is ready. Come and get it.”

My best prospect of happiness for the day withered in my hand. I climbed out of the sleeping bag and hunted for my clothes. I’d left them up against the side of the tent when I undressed the night before, so they’d been dewed on pretty badly. Ignoring how cold and wet my underwear was, I pulled it on and grabbed my jeans and shirt. The shirt smelled like a locker room, but that was tough. My mom could find me a clean one if she cared. Frankly, I didn’t give a damn.

When I stumbled out of my tent, my mom gave me a looking over. “Comb your hair, Stewart. You don’t want to look like a caveman (one word) now, do you?”

I grunted and sat down at the picnic table. She had set out three disposable plastic plates set out, Christmas red, and matching plastic silverware. She dumped a spoonful of slimy eggs on my plate, along with a couple pancakes that were black on one side.

“Here’s your maple syrup, honey,” she said, handing me a little plastic bottle with a picture of a tree on it.

“I don’t want maple syrup. I want real syrup.”

“Now Stewart, you know we have maple syrup when we go camping. It’s our special treat.”

I picked up one of the pancakes, used my fork to shovel a pile of greasy eggs onto it, smacked the other pancake on top, and stuffed it in my mouth. My dad glared at me. We finished breakfast in silence.

“Well, is everybody ready for the big hike?” My dad heaved his backpack over his shoulders and flashed me a smile.

“No,” I said. But as usual, they ignored me.

Hours later we were halfway up the mountain. The August sun was shone (?) high overhead, beating down on us. Why couldn’t we at least hike in the woods like normal people? Why did we have to be hauling our butts up the side of a damn cliff with the nearest shade far behind? Sweat kept running down into my eyes and stinging like crazy. My shirt was plastered to my body, and by now it smelled so bad even I was ready to puke. Worst of all, my underwear that had been wet all day was rotting my crotch, and my balls itched like crazy. All I wanted to do was rip off my pants, dump a canteen full of water on my nuts, and scratch those suckers until the itch went away. But of course I couldn’t, not with my mom and dad there.

When we finally came to a place where a jutting rock cast a tiny little shadow, I pretended that I was feeling faint and made for the shade. I sat down and tugged wildly at the front of my shirt, pumping it in and out in a vain attempt to get a little breeze flowing over my stomach. Mom and dad sat down, too, and decided that it was the perfect time for a little snacky, cheese and crackers that came in a cellophane wrapper.

I soon heard voices coming from far away. In a couple minutes three people appeared, walking up the mountain the way we had just come. It was two adults and, oh shit, a girl in elastic shorts and a halter-top. (hyphen) Unlike us, they were all wearing wide-brimmed hats and carrying walking sticks. My mom and dad waved at them and said some merry thing like “Hi!” or whatever. They waved back. I stopped pulling on my shirt and took a closer look at it. The yellow of this morning had mostly changed to a dingy brown, though some blotches of plain yellow were still around. A couple of red smears showed where I’d slapped deer flies.

I checked out the new people. They were hardly even sweating.

“Hi,” the woman said. “I’m Jeanne, and this is Phil. And this is our daughter, (comma) Becky.”

Becky looked at me and smiled. I tried to shrink into the rock, but there was nowhere for me to go. So I smiled back and hoped she couldn’t smell me.

“You look like you might be close to having heat stroke,” she said to me. “You want some electrolyte replacement?”

I had no idea what electro-whatever was, and I sure didn’t want her getting any closer to me than she already was, so I shook my head.

“Okay. But here. Take this. You might want it later.” She reached over her shoulder, pulled a green and white bottle out of her pack, and walked over to hand it to me. I scrambled to my feet to take it. On the way up I couldn’t help but notice a pair of little bumps that her nipples made where they poked into her halter top. I tore my eyes away before I made an even bigger fool of myself.

“Thanks,” I mumbled as I twisted the cap off. I took a swig. It tasted awful, but I smiled and said, “Good.” I don’t think she believed me.

“Well, we gotta go,” the man said. “ Tennis lessons at five. We gotta be back in time. Maybe we’ll see you at the pool. We like to swim after tennis.”

They waved goodbye and resumed their jaunt up the mountain. My eyes were remained (?) glued to Becky’s behind as she climbed the steep slope. Her butt was small and muscular, and an intriguing little muscle bulge shimmied up and down her cheeks when she walked. I was just getting an image in my head of what she’d look like without those shorts when my dad smacked me. “Cut it out,” he said. “That not polite.”

My mom came over and peered into my eyes. “Maybe we should go home. You don’t look good. Do you feel okay, honey?”

I definitely did not feel okay, though not in the way she imagined. Becky was hot, hot, hot, and I looked like I’d been dipped in horse shit. Why would I feel okay? All I wanted was to run down the damn mountain, throw our stuff in the car, and get the hell out before I had to face Becky again. I supposed I could faint and escape in an ambulance, but I wasn’t quite desperate enough for that. Yet.

Motherly caution won out, as usual, and we turned around and went back down. The moment we got back to our campsite I ran into my tent, tore off my clothes, wrapped a towel around my waist, and made for the shower. True to form, all that came out of the showerhead (one word) was a cold trickle, but that was fine. It was something. I scrubbed from head to toe. I rubbed the bar of soap in my hair, rinsed it off as best I could, and did it again. I scrubbed my armpits until I couldn’t stand the pain of tearing out armpit hairs any more. When I was done I dried off and sprayed half a can of deodorant under my arms, and used up the rest of the can on my body. My mom wrinkled her nose when I reappeared in camp an hour later, but she didn’t say anything.

After cooling my heels for a couple hours and eating mom’s pathetic excuse for supper, I borrowed some money, went to the cabin that they called a store, and bought a couple cans of Coke. Then I came back, changed into my swim trunks, and hung out at the pool. I’d changed my mind. As long as we couldn’t escape from this hellish place, I wanted to see Becky again.

I got my wish. She was there with her family, and she even recognized me. In fact, she swam right over to me, climbed out, and said, “Hi!”

I held out one of the cans of Coke I’d just bought. “Here,” I said. “This is to replace the electro, uh, the stuff you gave me up on the mountain.”

“Thanks, but no. I don’t do soda. You want some papaya juice?”

Before I could answer, she ran off to a corner of the pool, fished in a bag, and came running back with a bottle of thick pinkish liquid. My stomach did a flip-flop, but I took it and thanked her.

“Maybe we could swim?” I suggested, discretely setting the bottle on the ground.

“Yeah! Race you to the other end!”

She took off at a run and dove into the pool. Foam churned. She was a quarter of the way across the pool before I got my butt into gear and hit the water. I hadn’t thought about this maybe being the deep end, so I sank over my head and water went up my nose. I came up paddling wildly and sputtering. By the time I made it to the side of the pool where I could catch my breath, she was back, giving me a worried look.

“You okay?”

I nodded and coughed.

“You can’t swim?”

I cleared my throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I can swim. I just breathed wrong, that’s all. Got water up my nose.”

“Oh. Sorry. Maybe we’d better get out. I’m tired of swimming anyway. Don’t you just hate pools? All that stinky chlorine. Wrecks your hair. Your skin too. I’d rather swim in a lake any time.”

“Yeah. Me too.” I hauled my body over the edge of the pool while she flipped onto her back, did a couple backstrokes to the ladder, and climbed out.

“Come on. I want to show you something,” she said. She picked up the bottle of pink glop, waved at her parents, took my hand, and led me out the gate and down the dirt road that runs into the forest. She kept looking to the side as if she was searching for a landmark. She must have found it, because she suddenly pulled us off the path and into the trees. Before long we stopped. Tumbled stones marked the outline of a house, the final remains of its foundation. Part of a stone chimney still stood, towering above the debris. She led me to a fallen log and sat, pulling me down beside her.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“It’s, well, it’s old.”

“Of course it’s old, silly. My great grandma and great grandpa lived in this house. We spend August here every year. I come out here (?) to their old house sometimes and think about them. They cleared this land themselves, you know. Isn’t that neat?”

I nodded.

She scrunched her nose. “You don’t like being here, do you? Camping, I mean.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I had a gut feeling I couldn’t get away with lying. “No, I guess I don’t.”

“I wish I could change your mind.”

I thought of a great way she could change my mind, but I kept it to myself. “Why?” I asked instead.

“Because I love it here, and I never get to share it with anyone. All the campers are into their own things, and my friends think I’m stupid, wanting to walk around the woods all the time. Just once I wish I could find somebody who loved this place as much as I do. When I saw you hiking up the mountain today, I thought maybe you did. Most campers don’t hike the mountain trail. It’s too much for them. I guess you didn’t like it either, did you?”

I swallowed hard. “Well,” I stalled. “No, I guess I didn’t. But maybe that’s because I didn’t have the right person to do it with. I mean, my mom and dad aren’t exactly the best company.”

She laughed. I saw a shiver run over her body. She was still wearing her wet bikini, and the sun was dropping fast.

“Maybe we’d better be getting back,” I said.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

I dropped her off at the pool. “Listen,” I said as she started to walk away. “We never made it to the top of the mountain today. My mom and dad couldn’t handle it. Do you think we could try tomorrow? Just you and me?”

Her eyes lit up. “Sure! But let me give you a hint. It gets really hot if you start late. The best is if you can start about six in the morning. You carry up your breakfast and eat on the way. What do you think?”

“Uh, sure. That sounds like a great idea. I’ll see you here at six then, okay?”

“Yeah!” She opened the gate and ran to her parents.

I stopped at the cabin store and bought a half dozen granola bars, then headed back to our campsite.

“Have fun, honey?” my mom asked.

“Yeah. Do you care if I go hiking with Becky tomorrow?”

“Why, that would be nice. Where?”

“Up the mountain.”

She squinted at me. “Do you think that would be wise? What if you got sick or something?”

“I promise I won’t get sick. She wants to leave at six in the morning before it gets hot. Can you guys wake me up?”

My mom and dad faced each other and stared. My mom giggled. “Six AM? (Why is AM capitalized? You can add the emphasis with an exclamation mark and the sentence still reads well.) You?”

“Ha!” my dad sneered. “I’ll believe that when I see it. We’ll get you up at quarter to. See you then. Better get to bed.”

I crawled into my tent, stripped, and slipped into my sleeping bag. Was I crazy? Maybe, but it was worth it.

Five-forty-five AM (???) came around all too soon. It was still almost dark. I dressed in a fog, made sure the granola bars were still in my pocket, and stumbled out of the tent. My parents didn’t look to be in any better shape than I was, but they were smirking like crazy. They loved this. My mom handed me a mug of hot cocoa that I gulped, and I was off.

Becky was waiting waited (?) beside the pool gate when I arrived. The sun was drifting above the horizon, and the pool was blanketed by a thick mist. passive: …and a thick mist blanketed the pool. (?) She handed me a bottle of that awful looking juice that she had pushed on me yesterday.

“Drink this,” she said. “It’ll give you energy.”

I held my breath and took a sip. It was wonderful! Cool and sweet, smooth going down. I gulped half the bottle before she stopped me. “Careful. You’ll get cramps.”

We set off at a quick pace and were at the base of the mountain in a few minutes. She looked up toward the peak, turned to me, and smiled. “You ready?”

“Yup.”

She moved us right along. I was soon out of breath, but I tried hard to not let it show. Halfway up she turned off the trail and led me around the back of a boulder where a pile of tumbled rocks made a natural table and benches. She pulled two plastic containers out of her pack and handed me one, along with a fork. I opened it and studied the contents.

“It’s lentils and brown rice,” she said, seeing the expression on my face. “Good breakfast for hiking.”

I nodded and put a small fork-full in my mouth. It wasn’t bad, just not very good. I was hungry, though, so I ate it. When we finished, (comma) she hid the containers under a rock. “We’ll get them on the way down,” she explained.

The sun was fairly high in the sky by the time we reached the top. She took my hand and led me to the edge of an overhang. It felt like we could see for a thousand miles. Forest stretched to the horizon in one direction, and scraggly brush land in the other. Far away I could see the haze of a city.

“What do you think?” she asked.

I sighed. “It’s beautiful. I never realized... I mean, I’ve never seen anything like this before. Thanks!”

She gave me a heavenly smile, took my hand again, and led me across the flat top of the mountain to where a jagged collection of broken boulders lay strewn about. We picked our way between the gigantic rocks until we came to a place where an ancient part of the mountain still held intact, forming a stone roof that covered a good area in protective shade. Under that shade, (comma) it was cool and dark.

She pulled a canteen out of her pack and handed it to me. I took a deep drink and handed it back.

“Know what day today is?” she asked.

“Uh, the fifth?”

She nodded. “My birthday. I’m sixteen today.”

I reached out to her hand and squeezed it. “Happy birthday.”

She put her hand on top of mine. “I know you didn’t really want to climb this mountain. You did it just for me. Thanks.”

I sucked in my breath. “I did too want to climb it! Especially with you.”

She laughed. “Whatever. The important thing is, we need to celebrate. There’s something I’ve wanted to do on my sixteenth birthday. I never believed it could happen. It was just sort of a crazy fantasy. But now I think it can.”

She slipped her backpack off and let it slide to the ground. Then she grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. My jaw dropped. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Her breasts were small and pointy, nothing at all like the glorious boobs in Playboy, but cute enough in their own little way. I tentatively reached out and touched one, tracing a circle around her nipple. The nipple repeating It stiffened and grew. She put her hand on top of mine and pressed it down flat. My hard-on, vainly trying to burst through my pants, screamed to be let out. I ignored it, focusing on gently squishing and kneading her breast.

She swallowed a couple times, then pushed before pushing (?) my hand away, stood up, hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts, and lowered them very slowly. When they hit the ground she kicked them away and stood in front of me, naked except for shoes and socks.

“Do you mind if I leave these on? The rocks are sharp.”

My voice was gone, a victim of a throat that had tightened up so much that I almost had trouble breathing.

She playfully touched my nose with her finger. “What’s the matter? You’ve never done this before?”

I struggled to get my voice back. “Uh, yeah. I’ve done it lots of times.”

She laughed and poked me in the chest. “You silly boy. You have not.”

“No. I guess I haven’t.”

“Well neither have I, and we’ll never get to it if you don’t take off your clothes.” She bent over and pulled my shirt over my head, then and unzipped my fly. I stood up and kicked off my shorts.

Her eyes went wide. “Wow,” she said as she dropped to her knees and inspected my hard-on. “This really fits?”

“So I hear.”

She lifted it up and looked at the underside. Then she pointed it strait straight at her eyes and checked out the tip. Finally she pushed it down and examined the top. If at all possible, really try not to use the word then. It is usually used in association with an action, but it causes an unnecessary pause when a pause shouldn’t happen.

“Are all guys this big?”

“How would I know?”

“Yeah. Right.” She peered at it closely once more, then and kissed the tip. I gulped as my heart skipped a beat.

She opened her pack, took out a small folded blanket, and spread it on the ground. “It’s not a bed,” she said. “But it might be even better. Nature, you know.”

She lay down on it, scrunching around a few times to get comfortable. When she found the right spot she lifted her arms and flicked her fingers, beckoning me to join her. I didn’t, though. Instead I sat on the blanket beside her, put my hands inside her thighs, and gently spread her legs apart. “You had your turn. Now it’s mine.”

I lay down on the ground between her legs and lifted her knees. I lightly touched the top side of the slit that dominated the scene. She twitched. I ran my finger down the length of the slit and back up. A few drops of moisture appeared along the line, and a pair of lips gradually took form, slowly swelling and glistening. I gently massaged the area and realized that it was softening and becoming squishy as it got wetter and wetter. My finger, still running up and down, slipped between her lips. She moaned and reached her hands down to my shoulders, pulling at me. I planted a quick kiss on those lips, and moved up. I got on top of her and found a way to support my weight on my elbows so I wouldn’t crush her. I reached down, grabbed my hard-on, and fumbled around until I found the right spot. It was warm and soft, and the tip of my hard-on slipped right in. I put my nose up tight to hers, stared straight into her eyes, and pushed. I didn’t go anywhere, so I pushed harder and suddenly plunged all the way in. She let out a squeak and squinted her eyes shut tight like she was in pain. I held perfectly still until her eyes opened. She nodded her head and I began to move. I very slowly pulled out and then eased back in. She blinked a couple times , but nodded again. I set up a rhythm of pulling out and easing back in. At first she just laid there, quiet and still, while I slowly moved in and out. But soon she reached around behind me, put her hands on my butt, and pulled me into her faster. At the same time, she started making little grunting noises every time she pulled me in. We went faster and faster. I finally realized I couldn’t hold off any longer. I gave a couple frenzied thrusts, plunged in deep, and held it while wave after wave of pleasure pulsed out of me. She squealed like a frightened mouse and started shaking all over. I pressed my cheek to hers and waited for her to be done. She soon took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Wow,” she sighed. “That was incredible. Can we do it again?”

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