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                            WALKING THROUGH PUBERTY



          When I was twelve years old, I had a friend named Elmer.  Elmer looked a lot like the cartoon character, Elmer Fudd.  He was a year older than me, and had a younger sister named Sissie who was ten years old, going on thirteen.

         I came from a poor family, but Elmer and Sissie were worse off than us.  Their parents came from Oklahoma and all the kids in the  neighborhood poked fun at them, calling them hillbillies.  I never liked that word.  I know it must have hurt them to hear it.  

          Elmer had holes in his pants, and Sissie looked like Raggedy-Ann, only better developed. They lived in the Bayview District in San Francisco, only in those days it was called Butcher Town. I guess because the slaughterhouses were located there. 

          Elmer's father was born in Germany and  after the war migrated to the United States.  He worked at one of the slaughterhouses.  I remember seeing him once dressed in a blood stained white apron.  For weeks afterwards I had trouble eating meat.

          One summer day Elmer's mother came down ill. I think it was  with cancer, but no one in the family wanted to talk about it. Her illness was serious enough that she was confined to bed for long periods of time. 

          I remember visiting Elmer and Sissie one day after school, when their father was away at work.  I was glad the old man wasn't home. His blood stained apron was as red as the German sausages he brought home for dinner, and I was running out of excuses for not staying  over for supper.

          I didn't see Elmer and Sissie very often. We lived on the other side of the city, and my folks didn't like me traveling to Butcher Town. However, on this particular day, I hopped a cross-town bus, hoping my parents wouldn't discover where I was going.

          When I arrived at Elmer's home, he greeted me with a smile.  He said that Sissie was waiting for us in the treehouse that Elmer had built with his own two hands.  Elmer was a born carpenter, and had hand carved the likeness of a penis, with a huge head, and carried it around with him to show the boys at school.  Sissie always threatened to tell their parents on him, but she never did.

         When I arrived at the house, Elmer's mother was in bed sleeping. She didn't see us creep silently past her bedroom, on our way to the basement.

        "Did you bring the nickel?"  Elmer asked.

        "I couldn't."  I said.

      "What do you mean you couldn't?"

       "Dad wouldn't give it to me,” I said, bowing my head in shame.

       "I told you it would cost a nickel,” Elmer said, pounding his right fist into his left hand

          "I know." I said.

        "What else can you give me?" Elmer asked.

        I reached into my pants pocket and took out a small tube of model airplane glue.

        "What am I supposed to do with that?" Elmer bellowed.

       "Sniff it," I said.

      "If I wanted to get high, it wouldn't be on some stupid old airplane glue."  Elmer said.

      "It's all I have."  I said.

      "Okay," Elmer relented. "Give it to me."

          I handed Elmer the tube of glue and watched him stuff it into his pants pocket. 

   "Come on," Elmer said. "Let's go."

          I followed Elmer outside, through the back yard, past a  heavily weeded area, leading to the tree house that he and Sissie used when they wanted to escape from the real world.  In a clump of bushes, twenty-five feet from the tree house, a flock of sparrows were pecking away at the ground. The birds scattered as we approached them; all except for a single bird who appeared to have a crippled Wing, and was only able to hop, skip, and jump.     Elmer tried to do the bird in with a slingshot he had tucked away in his back pocket, but even crippled, the young bird was faster than Elmer.  They didn’t call him fat boy for nothing.                                                        

          When we reached the tree house, we climbed up the makeshift rope ladder, and crawled inside on our hands and knees.  Sissie was there waiting for us.  She had a smile on her face, and was standing with her legs spread wide apart.  At first, I was afraid that maybe she was not there of  her own free will, but the smile on her face told me I had nothing to worry about.  I knew that Elmer had promised  to let me see Sissie's pussy if I paid him a nickel and I was excited at the prospect.

          I noticed that the tree house was littered with comic books and candy wrappers.  In one corner, standing alone, was a rumpled copy of an old Playboy Magazine.   Playboy wasn't allowed in our house.  The only magazines my father and mother kept around were old copies of National Geographic and Readers Digest. I watched Elmer walk over and pick the magazine up.  He stood facing me, flipping the pages of the magazine until he came to the centerfold, which contained a glossy print of a naked woman with the largest breasts I had ever imagined possible.  Bigger even than my mother's.

          "That's how Sissie is going to look when she grows up," Elmer said, laughing and lightly punching me on the arm.

          "Am not." Sissie said.

          "Are so." Elmer said.

          "Am not," Sissie repeated, taking up a fighter's stance.

          "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Elmer asked. 

           "You keep talking like that and I'll box your ears back."  Sissie cried.

          "Yeah, like your pussy has hair on it," Elmer laughed.  "Go ahead and show it to him."

          "You said that he would pay a nickel." Sissie said.

          "Well, he doesn't have it, and besides one doesn't charge  their friends.  Go ahead and show it to him."

          Sissie pouted as she fidgeted with her dress, and then  suddenly without warning, she lifted it high over her head, and hen just as quickly pushed it back down again.  I saw that she  wasn't wearing any underpants, and tried to get her to give me a better look, but she wasn’t having any  part of it.

          "That's not fair." I complained.  "I didn't have a chance to see it."

          "That's too bad."  Sissie said.  "If you had brought a nickel, you could have had a longer look."

          "You want to see mine?"  Elmer asked.  "You'll have to show Sissie yours first."

          "Okay,"  I agreed, removing my belt and alloweed my pants to fall down at my feet, and kicking them free.  I was wearing boxer shorts, and my penis leaped free from the opening.

          "It's got a purple head."  Sissie giggled.  "It looks like a mushroom." 

           I blushed in embarrassment.  I had never showed anyone my penis before, not even my sister. 

          Sissie saw me blush a deep red and walked closer for a better look.

           “It's bigger than yours, Elmer. "Much bigger." Sissie said.

          "Is not."  Elmer shouted.

          "Is so." Sissie insisted.

          Elmer wasted no time in dropping his pants and removing his shorts.  He looked down at his dick and began slowly playing with it. 

          "Let's measure them," Elmer said to Sissie.  We stood close together as Sissie took both of our cocks in her hands and lined them up against each other.

          "See." Sissie said, "I told you that his is bigger than yours."

          "Not by much."  Elmer pouted.

          "Oh yes it is."  Sissie persisted.

          "Not if I yank on it."  Elmer said.  Elmer's hand began pumping up and down the length of his shaft, and sure enough it grew bigger and bigger.

          "Now who has the bigger one?"  Elmer boasted.

          "You do."  Sissie giggled.  She took Elmer's penis in her hand and began massaging it.

          "You want to kiss her?"  Elmer asked me.  I hesitated as I zipped up my pants.  Elmer looked at me with amusement, and pulled Sissie into his arms.

          "There's nothing to be afraid of.” he said.  "She likes it."

          I watched the two of them embrace, moving their tongues inside each other's mouth, in a kiss that seemed to last forever.  I had been told that it was wrong for brothers and sisters to do things like this, but I thought maybe in Oklahoma they did things differently.

          "That's called swapping spit."  Elmer said. "That's getting to first base."  I didn't know what he was talking about. 

          "That's how you make a baby. " Sissie said.

          "No it isn't."  I said.

          "How do you know?" she asked.

          "Because Blackie told me.  He knows about things like that.  He's stuck his thing inside a girl before." 

          Blackie was an older teenage boy who lived in the flat  downstairs from where I lived.  He had shown me pictures of men fucking women to prove that it wasn't the stork who delivered babies.    Elmer quickly changed the subject.

         "Does yours shoot juice yet?" he asked me.

          "No", I said, embarrassed by his frank talk.

          "Mine does."  Elmer boasted.  "Want to see me do it?"  he asked.

          "I do,"  Sissie said, moving closer for a better look.  watched as Elmer began massaging his penis.  It soon got bigger and redder and redder, and, then sure enough, great gobs of white stuff came shooting out of the slit of his penis.  It was an unbelievable sight.  As the flow diminished to a small trickle, I noticed that  Elmer was growing short of breath. 

          Sissie shook her head.  "Sometimes I think that he's going to die when he does that.  Sometimes he sounds like an old steam engine."

          "You shut your mouth," Elmer said, quickly putting his clothes back  on. 

          "Don't worry. " he told me.  "It won't be long before it happens with you.  Then maybe we can find a rubber and stick it inside Sissy."

          "You're not putting that thing inside me." Sissie said. "And I'm not going to show myself to anymore of your friends.  If they don't have a nickel, they'll just have to look at one of those magazines."

          "Who cares?"  Elmer laughed.  "You don't even have any hair on itl"

          I told Elmer and Sissie that I had to get home before it got dark.  I said good bye, and departed the treehouse, and made my way back home in time for dinner.  All through supper my thoughts were on my getting a nickel and seeing Sissie alone.  Maybe I could get a dime, I thought.  Maybe she would let me touch it for a dime.

          That night, in bed, I fell quickly to sleep, and had a dream of Sissie and me alone in the tree-house.  The next morning when I awoke,  I discovered a sticky substance on the sheets. I had experienced my first wet dream.  I was now the equal of Elmer.

          It was several weeks later before I had the opportunity to sneak back across town and see Elmer and Sissie again, only to find that their family had packed up and moved.  The treehouse had been torn down, and now I would only have my memories to fall back on.  For years to come, I kept thinking about Elmer and Sissie, and wondered where they were and what they were doing. 

          I knew deep down inside of me that Sissie would never hurt for money.  Elmer either!  They were an enterprising pair. All I knew for certain, as I trudged my way back home that day  was that somehow things would never again be quite the same.