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Message-ID: <30239asstr$989629803@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Jeff Zephyr <jeffzeph@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} JZL05_01: The Beginning, With Sheila (f bbggg, exhib, voy, preteen, nosex) {Jeff Zephyr}
Date: Fri, 11 May 2001 21:10:03 -0400
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Usual disclaimer:  This story involves sexual subject matter.  If you
aren't old enough to read this, go home!

Copyright by me, 2001.  Please don't distribute in an altered form, or
with any charges for acquisition.


The (Sex) Story of My Life, by Jeff Zephyr (jeffzeph@hotmail.com)
JeffZeph's Life So Far

A semi-true story ;-)

Thinking back over my life brings back lots of memories, and the
occasional fantasy about "back then."  I'm not dead yet, and some of
you might find my tales interesting. Check out the intro if you want
more background.  This is the start of the tale, my "kid" youth,
before sex was in my life as such.

Jeff Zephyr's Life JZL05_01: ""  Age 4-6. 
(f bbggg, exhib, voy, preteen, no sex)


I was a child of the sixties, born about the time that  John Kennedy
came along to shake things up.  The times they were  a-changing.  My
parents were 50's kids, and my mom was just 16 when she had me.  My
dad had his Harley, and I and mom rode behind him (before car seat
laws and helmets), and we lived with my dad's mom and aunt, who we
always called just Grandma and Auntie.  I don't recall anything
specifically related to sex before five years old, and even then it is
vague.  Like many kids, I got to see my parents naked. The fact that
the path from my bedroom, which I shared with my younger brother Jack,
to the rest of our house passed  through my parent's room, made that
happen a bit more often than it might for some kids.  But at that age,
it didn't make any special impression on me, it was "just there." The
same applied to seeing my newborn baby sister, Cher.  A naked baby
wasn't anything sexual, even if she was a girl.

Our family lived in large Midwestern US city.  We were a melting-pot
family, with most of the European cultures represented somewhere in
the line, plus some Native Americans, and a few others scattered about
in our family tree. 

Our own household was nominally Methodist, but we rarely went to
church with Grandma and her sister.  But other relatives were Catholic
or Lutheran, and dad openly claimed to be agnostic.  This led to a
rather cosmopolitan religious upbringing, up to the point where dad
decided that we really didn't need to go along with our relatives to
church at all. I mention religion because it has a big impact in many
people's lives;  as does the lack of it.




With both parents working for a while, or mom otherwise busy,
babysitting was required.  Sometimes we'd get dropped off at
Grandma's, other times at other friends of my parents.  One family was
a big, old-style one with eight kids, a couple grown up (one of whom
was my dad's good friend), and a girl named Sheila who'd watch us.

Sheila was about 14, and got stuck watching all the younger kids; her
three sisters (Marilyn was oldest at 7) and my brother and I,
sometimes my baby sister too.  Her older sisters and brothers didn't
help out with child watching and often they left,  leaving Sheila  in
charge of us, alone in the house.

A five year old boy and his three year old brother have little chance
of controlling a situation with four girls, especially  when one is
the babysitter, taking charge of everything.  That meant playing dress
up and dolls, and other girls' games; not the kind of things boys are
traditionally taught to do or that we'd usually play at home or with
other kids. But it was much better than doing nothing and the girls
and Sheila all seemed to like playing with us, so we didn't mind.

Playing "dress up" required us to undress, in order to change into new
outfits.  Sheila let us do that in her closet, so we didn't have to be
in our underwear in front of her the whole time, or with the other
kids watching.  It was dark in the closet, so we'd leave the door
cracked open in order to see what we were doing.  Often Sheila would
help us  change, so she'd get to see us anyway.  Plus, she usually 
selected a boy and girl pair  up for the game, so one of the girls
would be in there with me as we'd change together.  Being only five, I
wasn't embarrassed about being undressed around friends or
babysitters, even if they were girls.  So this was just for fun,
nothing to talk to mom about ...  just another game.

In the dark, or even the shadows with the closet door open, we
couldn't see much.  We weren't getting completely undressed either,
always keeping our underwear on.  So, this wasn't like we were playing
completely naked, actually not much different from sleep- over
situations.

However, Sheila liked to give us baths, especially when her parents
were out, which was quite often.  She would undress us, then stay to
watch us and help us  bathe.  Again, this didn't seem like a big deal
to me.  Grandma,  Auntie and other adult babysitters didn't make me
feel embarrassed to be naked around them.  Jack, who was only three,
didn't seem to notice this at all, or to think it was in any way
unusual.

Most times, Jack and I would be in the tub together.  But the other
three girls would come in while we were drying off, and undress to get
in the tub, so we'd see them naked, and they'd see us.  And, of
course, Sheila got to see all of us kids naked.  Sometimes, Sheila
would have Marilyn, the oldest girl,  in the tub with me, and Jack and
the two littler ones together.  "To save time," she'd tell us.

All of us kids would look at each other and make teasing remarks about
being "nudie," seeing bare weenies, and pussies showing, but nothing
more than that happened.   This still didn't seem unusual to me, just
part of our normal playing and child-care arrangements.  I didn't even
talk to mom about it because it wasn't anything strange.  It wasn't
until later that I noticed that Sheila was doing this kind of boy and
girl baths together only when her parents were out, and by then I
didn't care.

One afternoon, Sheila decided we should play a new game called
"Models."  As in artist or photographer's models, or playboy
centerfolds.  We were alone in the house, just us kids and her, with
no parents,  older brothers or sisters expected for a long time.  She
took us all into our room where we played the dress up game.  This
time, she had new rules for it.

"Everybody, get naked!" Sheila ordered.

Stripping openly to underwear didn't seem to bug us, and we all did
that part quickly enough.  Naked was different, though.  It wasn't
like we were getting ready for a bath.  Marilyn stopped, standing
there in just her panties, and asked "Why do we have to get naked? 
How come you don't have to, too?"

"Sure, that would be fun, OK?" Sheila answered.  "This game only works
if you don't wear clothes, a kind of undress-up game," she said,
laughing.   I didn't understand the joke, or why she laughed so long
about it.

Saying that, Sheila took her dress off, then her bra and panties. 
This was the first time she'd taken her underwear off in front of us,
and she'd rarely even gotten down to her underwear as she'd change in
front of us.  Now, she and the rest of us were completely naked, in
her room, alone together in her house.  Two young boys, three young
girls, and a pretty, naked teenage girl in charge of us, all naked
together.

I'd often seen the other girls naked before, so that part wasn't new. 
My mom also had given me opportunities to see her naked, or at least
had her private parts exposed.  Not deliberately, like in this game,
but it still happened.  When we were out, she'd take us into the
bathroom with her when she'd go, and though we weren't supposed to
look, it wasn't easy to avoid noticing her bare bottom and hairy
pussy.  Also, when she'd take a shower, or change clothes, we kids
would either be around her room or go into the bathroom; too young to
worry about, being just babies.  She didn't make a fuss about that
kind of thing, not yet at least, and I didn't find it to be anything
unusual or special.

Yet this was something new and exciting.  I didn't know why.  It was
just interesting to look at a naked teenage girl with small, firm
breasts with  pointy pink nipples.  A girl with hair above her pussy
was also interesting and  different from the other three girls.  Mom's
breasts and pussy were, of course, much more developed yet they didn't
have this effect on me.

Sheila was excited by this new game.  I could hear it in her voice,
especially when she told us to line up and pose so that she could look
us over.

"I need to see if you are ready to be models, and look right for our
magazine," she said to us, after we were all in a row.  Then she knelt
in front of us and looked at us closely.  She spent a very long time
looking at my brother and me ... especially at me.  I noticed her hand
was on her pussy, as she stared at my genitals, her face right in
front of them. This wasn't an accidental exposure, nor a brief bit of
exploration.  Whatever made Sheila so excited, it was a bit
contagious, so I liked this game.  The others didn't seem to have the
same reaction to it.

Sheila spent a long time that day, having us pose. Standing, sitting
on the bed, laying on the bed, standing in her open doorway, side by
side, girl and boy together.  She acted the role of photographer,
miming the actions of taking pictures and would touch us to move us
into various positions, though she didn't touch our genitals as part
of that.  She'd take "close-up" pictures, moving her face close enough
that I could feel her breath on my naked body.  She spent the most
time with me, taking lots of pictures of my weenie.  During this, it
started to stand up stiff and straight.  That happened sometimes but I
didn't know why.  It wasn't unusual either, but it felt nice.

Then she let us play the photographer role, taking "pictures" of each
other and herself.  The game quickly broke down after that as her
three sisters and my brother lost interest and reverted to playing
chase, then finding toys to play with or romping about naked but
otherwise playing ordinary kid games.  Sheila and I, though, 
continued playing the modeling game. 

Encouraged by Sheila, I looked very closely at her naked body,
pretending to take pictures, and touched her to help her pose for me.
Very closely, so I could smell her body, and brush against her pubic
hair with my face.  I stared at her hard nipples which were sticking
out very stiff.  I hadn't seen that happen before  with mom. 

The  curly hair on her body matched that on her head , which was
interesting and different from mom's. Unlike the younger girls, her
pussy lips were concealed by hair, but they were fuller.  She lay back
on the bed and spread her legs , giving  me a closer look at her
pussy, to see the details.  She told me something about the parts
there but I didn't remember it later.  Mom's pussy had more hair, but
I'd never seen it closeup like this, nor had a chance to just look at
it without her moving away or covering up.  I didn't think that mom
would like me trying that, and honestly, I'd never thought about doing
that kind of thing before this day.

My mom was a pretty woman, with very long, straight hair which  flowed
down her back.  Dad and I would help brush it, which we both liked. 
Her breasts were mid-sized for a grown woman of about 21, but they
were much bigger than Sheila's with big nipples, and they were very
bouncy breasts too, and I thought mom's looked nice.  My sister was
breast fed, like the rest of us, so I got to see them often now.  I
thought her naked body was attractive, but boys often think that their
mother is the best looking woman around.  Not all boys get to see
their parents unclothed, but we did.  That made this game with Sheila
seem just another kind of kids' game; nothing wrong, just playing and
having fun.

We'd been playing like this for a couple of hours or so, hanging
around naked in Sheila's room and looking at each other.  Sheila
hadn't tired of watching us play naked, or coming close to look at me,
or of letting me take a look at her and telling her that she looked
"marvelous" while I'd pretend to take pictures.  That part of the
"Playboy game" was still going.  The others were just playing with
toys, still stark naked, as though that didn't make any difference for
playing.

The sound  of our parents coming in made Sheila jump off the bed,
where she was posing for me.  Whispering, she  urged "Hurry up, get
dressed.  Now!"

Her panic made my heart pound; another new feeling.  It took only a
minute to dress, so we were back playing with our toys before anyone
came to check on us.  Fully dressed, with shoes off as usual, nothing
drew our parent's attention to our new game.  And although I didn't 
understand why we had to get dressed  so fast, I had a feeling that
our parents might be mad for some reason. It was something like their
rule that  we couldn't go outside naked anymore because we were
'getting too big' for that.  So I didn't say anything about it when we
got home, though Jack did but he only mentioned playing 'models' and
taking 'pretend' pictures, not about being naked because that part
wasn't important.

The next few visits, Sheila's mother or older brothers were home.  I
knew that we didn't play the same kinds of dress up games when they
were around, but I didn't know why.  I asked Sheila "What about the
'Playboy game'?  Will we do that again?"

"Sshh!" Sheila shushed me.  Her older brother, about 16 or 17, was in
the room, but he probably didn't hear us, or care about what we were
saying anyway.  "Don't talk about that, OK?" she said, quietly into my
ear.

I didn't understand why, but I nodded my head and kept quiet as she
asked.  Later, when we were alone, I asked "Why can't we talk about
that game?"

"It's a secret.  Don't tell anyone - cross your heart and hope to
die,! OK?" she asked me, making the crossing gesture with her hand as
she did that.

"OK, I promise," I said.  Having a secret shared with this girl seemed
like fun, something very special.

After that, I spent more time at home in the bathroom, looking at
myself undressed, or with my pants down, both in the mirror and
looking directly at my body.  I didn't know what was special about
getting naked or why people bothered to take pictures of naked women
and put them in magazines.  I knew about Playboy,  having seen it and
its centerfold pictures .  I guessed there was something special about
pictures of naked women but what the big deal was about that, I just
didn't know. However,  I felt something strange just thinking about
it, even if I couldn't give a name to the feeling.

We got another chance to play with Sheila, with her in charge and no
older kids or adults around.  Our parents weren't expected back soon
either, so we'd have a lot of time to play.  It started out like a
dress up game, this new play, except that everyone stripped naked to
change into their costumes, rather than just down to their underwear. 
Sheila got naked too, rather than directing us as she usually did or 
undressing only to her underwear  where we couldn't watch.  Our
costumes also weren't clothes.  We put on sheets, blankets, or
scarves, not real clothing but just  something to drape over us, still
leaving us naked and exposed under them.  Sheila posed us so our
private parts were uncovered, even with other places hidden.

Next, Sheila started a new game; kind of like hide and seek with the
lights out.  It didn't stay hide and seek long, instead turning into
naked wrestling and tag; chasing, squealing and giggling as we'd catch
each other and grab on, running around her room in the dark.  We
hadn't touched each other much while naked before, not even when we
took baths together.  At least, not in our private areas.  Then Sheila
caught me , holding my weenie in her hand and squeezing it, but she
let go when I squealed.  It wasn't in pain, just surprise. 

I ran off,  trying to  catch her or one of the other girls and  grab
them the same way.  We all bumped into each other in the dark, and I
think I caught either Marilyn or the next youngest girl between the
legs but there wasn't anything to squeeze or hold onto so she slipped
away. 

The younger girls and my brother ended up chasing each other around,
rolling around on the floor, while Sheila caught me and pressed me
down onto her bed, pinning me in a wrestling move, her naked body on
top of mine. She caught my weenie again, holding it, pressing and
rubbing her hand around it, which made it suddenly turn stiff. 

This was a new, very surprising sensation.  I'd touched myself there
while washing up, or just to adjust it in my pants, but this was
different.  I wasn't scared, just surprised.  It felt nice, truly. 
She rolled off me, and lay side by side with me, her body pressed
against mine.  She asked me "Jeff, touch my pussy."

I did it.  This wasn't like the quick rub I got with her sisters,
since she didn't try to get away, no more than I was trying to escape
from her hand.  In the dark, I couldn't tell for sure where I was
touching but the hair above it was easy to find.  The moist opening
below was warm so I rubbed my fingers across it.  I didn't know what
her wetness meant, thinking it was probably just sweat.  Touching her
there made her wiggle and laugh, as though it tickled.  I petted her
pussy upwards, where her pussy fur grew above her wet opening, and
that seemed to relax her.  All the while, she was touching me, telling
me how nice my weenie felt and encouraging me to continue.  She put
her other hand on my chest, and stroked there softly.

Things might have become even  more interesting if we had been able to
continue touching each other in the dark but, with the all laughing
and running of the others, we didn't hear our parents  return earlier
than expected.  When we finally heard them , Sheila jumped off the bad
and cried out "Everyone get dressed, quick ... right now!"  She
sounded very frightened and that scared the rest of us, especially in
the dark room, with the other kids  running and playing.

It was too late.  Sheila pushed us into the closet with our clothes
and pulled her own dress on with nothing under it.  Two naked little
girls (the youngest  dove under Sheila's bed) and two boys tried to
sort out their clothes and get dressed in the dark, trying to be
quiet.  It wasn't possible, but still we tried.

We heard my mom come in the room, looking for us, wondering what all
the noise was about.  Sheila explained we were playing hide and seek
but mom could hear us in the closet.  It may not have mattered, she
would have looked anyway, but that made her find us sooner.

Mom opened the closet door, and found us in various states of undress.
I had my underwear on, but everyone else was still bottomless.  She
started to yell at Sheila, and at us.   We were dragged out of
Sheila's room as we were, picking up our clothes, which got everyone's
attention.  Both sets of parents tore into us, especially Sheila who
had let us play naked.

None of us told on Sheila, who managed to look dressed and maybe had
even gotten her panties on as well.  I mentioned nothing at all of our
touching in the dark.  I might have, as I didn't know it was any big
deal, but the next thing that happened discouraged any talk about this
stuff at all.

My dad whipped both of us boys right there, pants down, using his
belt, right in their living room.  I can't remember exactly what he
said, something about boys not playing with girls naked because that
was wrong.  I didn't understand why, and he didn't explain.  When I
mentioned seeing him and mom naked together, that just made him
madder.  Sheila's parents were screaming at her for letting this kind
of thing happen so I quit trying to talk about it.  My ass hurt from
the whipping, and clearly our parents weren't being rational about
this.  I didn't have a clue about what we'd done  wrong but I knew
that asking about it was just inviting further punishment.

Sheila never got to babysit us again.  Nor were us boys allowed to
play alone with her or with her sisters without adults around.  I
really wanted to talk with her about what happened, to understand what
was wrong about our game.  It seemed justplaying, nothing bad at all. 
What was wrong about boys being naked with girls?  Mom and dad were
naked in bed together all the time, and that wasn't a problem.  I just
didn't get it but I had no desire to provoke Dad more about it so I
just held my tongue and didn't say anything.

Kid memories can forget the past quickly, even scary things.  They
stick inside you though, like glue.  Little things can have a big
impact.  Like when my brother and I were chattering in our beds, not
willing to go to sleep, and my Dad snuck in our room and slapped his
belt against our bunk beds.  I thought to myself, 'now I'm going to be
afraid of the dark', even though before that I wasn't a kid who wanted
night lights or worried about sounds in the night and, sure enough, we
soon were afraid of the dark. 

Getting naked turned into something for my brother and I to play with;
'playing bare' we called it.  We would try to stay naked for awhile
after bathing, or when changing our clothes, whenever we could. 
Outside, we'd drop our pants to pee, then leave them down until we
heard someone or just got bored standing bare- bottomed outside.

One day, we did this in the bushes near our house, along the busy
street near the factory at one end.  I hopped from one bush to the
next, pants down around my ankles, weenie bouncing.  I dared Jack to
do the same and he did.  For the next couple of weeks, we played this
hopping game, with our trousers down and our bare behinds showing to
anyone passing on the street.  Mostly cars   we did hide when people
would walk past.  I don't know why I felt no one would complain about
this or catch us doing it, nor why it felt like a fun game to play. 
It just did.

Unfortunately for us, our parents also could see us if they were on
the second floor and looked out the window of our house. Dad came and
caught us, chasing after us when we ran off.  When we got home, he
whipped us with his belt on our bare butts again.

"You can't go hopping around bare-assed through the bushes like
bunnies," he told us.

"Why?" I asked.  I asked that kind of question a lot of course. Kids
tend to do that,  even when parents don't answer it nicely.

Whack! Whack! His belt hit my bottom, giving me my only answer to that
ill advised question.  "You just don't, that's all.  End of story."

"Ow!" I cried, bawling in pain and confusion.  He told me again not to
do it. 

"Don't let me catch you doing that again!" is exactly what he said.

It hurt a lot, getting spanked like that.  But it didn't deter playing
with nudity outside much at all, not after a few weeks to forget. 
Unlike things like playing with fire which could hurt someone, there
was no good reason given for not doing it.  It was wrong, that was
all.  What it meant to me was that our parents would punish me if I
got caught but there was no other reason.  It seemed like such fun, so
all I had to do was make sure that we were far enough from home not to
get caught again.  I'm sure that wasn't the lesson Dad intended, but
that is what I learned from it.

Jack and I stripped naked in the woods near the railroad tracks, which
ran across the street east of our house.  No adults came around there,
so we wouldn't get caught.  We'd drop our pants outside other places
too, if we didn't think anyone might see us.  No sex, no touching,
just playing naked outdoors, feeling the wind and sun on our bare
skins.  We didn't know any girls who did this stuff , nor did we find
any of the neighborhood boys who wanted to play 'bare' outside.

When we moved to a new place, many miles away, outside the city by a
small lake, this 'playing bare' game stopped.  I think it was because
I was afraid, being in a new place, unsure of where the safe places
might be. I didn't know where to hide, and living near a lake meant
that a lot of the woods and bushes around really were marshes, with
water to or mud fall in, too messy to play in.

It was a nice place to be, free from the noise and traffic of the
city.  Our house in the city was on a block with factories on each end
and day  or night we'd hear the machines running, humming, banging. 
Here, there was real quiet at night and that was a little scary at
first.  Frogs croaking, crickets chirping, the wind in the trees, all
were strange to me.  But I quickly grew used to it and enjoyed my new
home.

I'd started kindergarten in the city, and continued here in this rural
setting.  Everything seemed  normal and happy.  The closest things to
sex  during this period of my life was splashing in swimsuits  at the
lake, and riding the spinning wheels in the playground.  Normal,
everyday kid sorts of things.

                                       



  Copyright by Jeff Zephyr (jeffzeph@hotmail.com) 2001.  Please don't
distribute in an altered form, or with any charges for acquisition.

If you liked this story, want to put it in a free collection, want to
tell me how I could write better, or just say hello, write to me at my
hotmail address. 
--
Jeff

Web site at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/jeffzephyr/www/
For FTP, http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/jeffzephyr/

There is nothing more important than petting the cat.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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