Bobby's Metamorphosis, Love's Spark

Sara was a charming and intelligent girl with a natural flirting talent. Her long, straight brunette hair, beautiful smile, and chestnut eyes captured my attention and fueled my infatuation. Her smile seemed to light up her entire face and add to her allure.

"Bobby, guys used to chase me, you know? But then Gaylan would come around the corner and kiss me, calling me 'babe.' After that, nobody thought they had a chance. He's a handsome asshole, you know?" she giggled.

Gaylan laughed and answered with that old nursery rhyme, 'Liar, liar, panties on fire! Hanging by a telephone wire. While you're there, cut your hair. And stick it down your underwear.' Sara, no one could keep them away from you, and you damn well know that."

She grew quiet at that, and replied, "That was then. Today, no outsiders light my fire or get into my panties." The words, if meant to amuse, fell short, and the air became disquieting.

"Hey, I think you're cute," I countered, in the awkward moment that followed. It was an uncharacteristic reply. Their openness and frank talk were far from what I was accustomed to.

"Cute from the tits up," she parried, "but from the waist down..."

"Enough," Gaylan Watters cut her off, "let's not chase our guest off. He's got what we need." Gaylan was thinking of blueprints, but not so for his sister.

Sara's mischievous smile lit up as she chuckled, lowering her eyes. "He's got something I need for sure."

"Behave, Sara, or I'll put you in the bathtub and leave you to drown."

"Okay!" she grinned, looking up at me with a twinkle in her chestnut-colored eyes. "Just come around when handsome isn't here, and we can...talk about bubble baths...er, blueprints."

The grin on my face had never spread so wide as I jogged across the road that day, feeling a ray of sunshine parting some gray clouds...the ones that seemed to follow me.

Quickly that summer, I learned Gaylan could throw a spiral fifty yards deep like a bullet and deliver a jump shot from the three-point line with deadly accuracy, but he didn't know fuck about using tools. Nor could he drive a nail, except the one that always produced a cry of "Mother..." when he hit the wrong nail.

My chores fell a little behind. I kept the garden up and spent time getting Gaylan up to speed on building the wheelchair ramp, setting footings, and learning how to use a skill saw. I saw Sara through the screen door, her hand clapping over her mouth as I showed him how to measure and square-cut a two-by-six using a speed square. Sara was snickering at his lack of carpentry skills. He had a basic understanding of geometry, but no practical application of how it fit into squaring up buildings. The one complaint ol' John regularly harped on about our educational system. Gaylan got better at it near the end. And as Mom had hoped, I found a summertime friend to get along with — in fact, I found two.

Long curly hair didn't bother either of them. Despite my appearance, they treated me respectfully, as a person rather than an object of disdain. Gaylan worked shirtless to soak up the summer sun while marking, cutting, and nailing lumber for the ramp. I watched as his muscles rippled along his lean body. During a few breaks, he dug out a football, and, against my better judgment, I followed his orders to go long. High spirals zipped in my direction, and I caught a few, but missed most, losing my grip. I knew the concepts of football and the rules, but had no practical application skills. That, too, was noted by ol' John in my upbringing. Still, it was nice to hear Gaylan shout, "Hey, Bobby, you've got good speed!" or "Hey, Bobby, nice catch on that one!"

It was a far cry from what ol' John would have bellowed. Even Sara, from the shade, cheered me on. It was a confidence builder. I would have run a mile for more praise if he had ordered me to run flat-out. I grew fond of Gaylan; he was a standout guy.

The day the ramp was completed, Gaylan shouted out, "Hey, Sara!"

His call flowed through the front screen door as the last pea gravel was shoveled around the bottom to prevent washout. "Time for a trial run."

I was left at the bottom of the ramp. In his exuberance, Gaylan sprinted up and through the doorway only to return momentarily with Sara in her mobile chair. Both laughed as he wheeled her down the ramp like a parade queen.

"Asshole, I'm not dressed!" she sputtered as the sheet billowed.

I saw that as she reached the bottom of the ramp. Her brother had tossed a sheet over her, scooping her off her bed. The sheet billowed and slipped down a bit as she clutched it to her breast to maintain modesty. Still, the view was mentally titillating. Beneath the white linen sheet, my eyes caught sight of bare skin; my mind filled in the blanks and envisioned a naked woman. I watched intently, as he wheeled her around and back up the ramp like a feather floating on a summer breeze.

Despite my intent to look away, my eyes stayed riveted on Sara's sheet-draped form—hoping. Sara's eyes caught that and smiled.

"Come back in an hour. I'm sunbathing out on the grass on top of...this sheet. Gaylan could use a hand with that. I know...you would appreciate that, too."

"Actually," Gaylan answered as an afterthought, "we should look at building a deck out back for that, too. How about it, Bobby? Are you up for one more training session?"

"Sure," I answered, "your backyard has a nice view of the walnut grove."

"Walnuts," Sara repeated. "Told you, Gaylan, those aren't 'horny boy trees' with low-hanging balls!"

I was at a loss at that and left speechless, just nodding as she laughed at the rise she had gotten out of me. I blushed beet red. Gaylan just rolled his eyes and shook his head. He was used to her antics, I'd learn later. Apparently, he wasn't fazed by her brashness. Girls with conditions can get away with a lot, I learned quickly.

Sara required a lot of Gaylan's attention. I learned it included caring for her along with a home health-care nursing attendant three times a week. Helped by his mother, he also handled her physical therapy during the summer, not to mention the sunbathing sessions, which, it turned out, were not part of the prescribed regimen. It was a self-developed treatment.

That afternoon, I'd cut nearly two acres of Bermuda in our front yard. I was trying to catch up on chores put off by spending time over at the Watters' place. The in-between time was spent showing Gaylan how to build the ramp and admiring Sara. Thoughts of Sara's comments about sunbathing were on my mind. Seeing a naked girl, even one with limited mobility, couldn't be real. But then Gaylan helped get her in and out of the bathroom, so he got to handle some flesh.

"Mom, I'm going across the road. Gaylan wants me to look at the backyard for a deck. I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?"

"Your daddy's garden is calling, Bobby—don't be gone long. You know how he gets," she announced. Mom was finishing some ironing and checked in on supper cooking on the stove.

"Gotcha."

My response flew over my shoulder as I hustled out.

Hesitating, I stopped before I rounded the corner of the Watters' garage. Should I burst around the corner and act surprised, or take a quick peek and call out like a guy ought to?

Either way, I felt anxious about turning the corner. I wanted so much to find a naked girl on a sheet, as Sara had intimated. However, what I found wasn't quite what I expected.

"Guys? You out back?" I hesitantly called out.

"Back here, Bobby," Sara's sweet voice chimed.

I took that as an invitation and rounded the corner. Sara giggled, propped up on an elbow, and watched my mouth drop; the look of an idiot must have been painted across my face as my jaw dropped.

"Told you, Gaylan, he'd have that look!" she laughed.

Gaylan chuckled and replied, "At least he didn't run away, Sara."

No, I hadn't run. My feet were bound to the earth, rooted like a cornstalk. My eyes were wide with surprise, and my dropped jaw must have spoken volumes about my thoughts.

The golden boy was stretched out on a sheet with ten toes pointing into the air. Flat on his back, Gaylan's curly head was turned toward me, as he grinned. My eyes roamed his body from head to toe, especially the middle. He was naked, relaxed. Smooth and bare in the middle, he sported a hefty-sized, thick cock dangling over his toned athletic thigh.

At that moment, I hadn't any idea why it wasn't erect because next to him was Sara sprawled out equally tanned—everywhere tanned—from head to toe, just like Gaylan. I couldn't see all of her, as Gaylan's body partially blocked my view, but there was nothing left to the imagination of Sara's mounds rising as pink-tipped buds above a well-endowed ribcage that rolled into the dell, forming her tummy. The flat-spread valley gave way to those splayed legs and offered a glimpse of the smooth swell of protruding vertical lips nestled between them.

Who the hell could have run at that point? I was watching Adam and Eve in the garden, looking out over all of Creation, obviously before being cast out of Eden.

Sara smiled at me with Eve's sparkling eyes, as though asking if I wanted a bite of that apple from the Forbidden Tree of Knowledge.

"There's room on the sheet next to me," she said, "if you want to come, lie down and get some sun."

Like a fool, I answered.

"That's okay," I stammered, "I can come back later...to look at the deck measurements."

My expectations of seeing a naked girl had been met and quickly vanished in the realization I wasn't ready to deal with what would come next, especially with her brother next to her. The image of Adonis' cock and self-assurance and that of his sister's paralyzed form had overwhelmed me. My cock was getting hard.

Sara's soft voice called out as I started to turn.

"First time? It's okay; everybody has a 'first time.' Most of us were just...as shy about it as you. We both were. Come."

Her words were gentle, not taunting. It was just a simple invitation that made me turn back.

"It's true," Gaylan said. "Come on, there is no shame between us. Sara doesn't bite hard, nor do I."

His grin was inviting as he dropped unconcernedly onto his back again.

Thinking about lying down next to Sara sent my mind whirling. I knew what that meant. Naked, my turgid cock would be pointing toward the sun, unlike Gaylan's flaccid one-eyed snake. How did he control it? That would be one of life's mysteries, unless he wasn't into girls. And, with his body and good looks, that didn't seem to be the case.

Sara looked up, as I towered over her nude centerfold pose.

"Just your tee shirt. If you want, you can keep the pants. If you're worried about your cock getting hard, don't. It's just natural...after a while, it will relax. The sun will work that out for you."

Her words sounded like some motherly advice about a first date. Practical and encouraging. Somehow, I doubted the sun would make my cock go down. The only thing that got me to relax when I thought about naked girls was stroking it to climax and watching the ejaculate shoot out with a groan of satisfaction. Five minutes of pleasure, and then my woody would relax; to get it to that point took a lot of pummeling. I wondered if Sara knew that about guys as well.

I gave in, coached by Sara's gentle words of wisdom, and braved removing my pants. Yeah, my cock was at full staff, not prominent like some porn stars, I suppose, but neither Gaylan nor Sara laughed as I stood over their prone forms. Maybe they were just too polite to comment. At any rate, my self-consciousness preoccupied my thoughts about that, and I quickly moved to be out of Gaylan's line of sight. I certainly wasn't in his league.

"He's bushy, Gaylan," Sara commented as I awkwardly pulled my leg out of my underwear. I was standing naked above them. Neither said anything more, and I found myself awkwardly easing onto the sheet beside Sara.

The sun felt warm, and the soft summer breeze played with the hair on my cock, teasing it as it stood proud and twitched with excitement. Looking into my eyes, Sara turned toward me and said, "See, that wasn't so bad. Now, close your eyes and let the sun fix your tan lines. Gaylan has a timer and in twenty-five minutes, we turn over. Okay?"

"Yes," I breathed deeply and slowly let the breath out.

My foray into being with a naked girl was not what I expected. I felt the warmth flow up my core as I lay in silence next to a nude, uniformly tanned girl, one with all aspects of a sexual being, just not able to move from the waist down.

I looked like vanilla ice cream in comparison: tanned arms out from the tee-shirt sleeves and vanilla everywhere else, lying naked next to the Watters.

"What would it like to have sex with someone like that?'" I wondered, furtively glancing at Sara.

With my eyes closed, time seemed to drift away, but it didn't deter my dick from stirring, as I felt a slender hand touch my arm and seek out my fingers, interlacing with them. Sara gave my hand a gentle squeeze and then became still. It felt good to feel the warmth of a gentle hand holding my own. The moment's tranquility amidst the sounds of bird chirps around us seemed like I'd found paradise beside Adam and Eve.

Sara was right; the warmth of the sun and the stillness began to ease the stiffness of my pole until the chime of an alarm broke the trance-like moment. My hand jerked along with my cock stirring reflexively. Sara chuckled, "Don't worry; if you come often enough, you'll get used to the alarm."

Her words struck me, making me aware that this wasn't expected to be a one-off visit.

"Gaylan, time to turn me over," she announced as I looked at her.

"Like this, Bobby," Gaylan said, as he stood, held the sheet by two corners, and gently lifted it. The sunlight cast his shadow onto the sheet like a backlit puppet show. Sara giggled, raised her hands over her head, and stretched. Her small breasts rose in response, as Gaylan continued to lift the sheet to roll her, like a log, toward me until she flopped on her tummy. The round mounds of her bubble butt were up.

"Bobby, please uncross my legs."

I looked at Gaylan hesitantly. His head nodded toward her feet as he straightened the sheet out and lowered it again. Gently, I grasped her ankles and uncrossed them. The leg muscles showed signs of atrophy from non-use. Gaylan tossed me a towel, saying, "Take this and roll it like a Tootsie Roll; put it under her ankles to keep her toes off the ground, then spread them further apart. More. The sun's got to shine up her crack...like that."

I glanced up the valley at her exposed sex and butt before looking away quickly. Sara's eyes were on mine as I looked up at her again.

"Never seen a girl before, I'm guessing?"

She hadn't spoken with disdain or scoldingly.

"No," I answered, feeling a warm blush spreading across my cheeks as my cock began to spring back into an erection. She didn't say more, just grinned as my cock twitched. I looked over at Gaylan's smile, but his dick wasn't reacting.

"It's okay," he said, "It takes a while to get used to it. The brain gets retrained to respond differently. Like being at a nudist beach, after a while, arousal takes more than just sight responses to nakedness."

"I'll take your word for that since I've never been to a nudist beach," I replied, looking for a place to lie down again.

Showers in gym class didn't have guys standing with erections next to one another, and here I stood with a hard cock next to a naked athlete sprawled on the ground and his nude sister. I guess Gaylan was right about the brain being trained not to react to different nude situations. A hard-on in a locker shower room would be disastrous.

"Monkey in the middle, Bobby," Sara murmured, closing her eyes and canting her chin upon her hands.

By then, Gaylan was on the outside again. It left me in the middle, so I slid between them. It was a tighter fit, being the monkey in the middle this time. I found my hips touching girl flesh and tried to wiggle over, only to meet thigh-to-thigh with Gaylan. He turned his head to the outside; Sara turned hers toward mine, smiled, and closed her eyes again.

I felt the firm flesh of an athletic body nestled against mine. It was as warm as the sun, firm and ripped--the closest to a guy I'd ever found myself. I felt the tension in my body relax and melt away as the minutes ticked by. My cock remained stiff, mashed into the sheet. Was it the sight of seeing Sara's sex on display or something more, the touching of my thigh against Gaylan? No, not the feel of a warm, muscular guy; that wouldn't be right.

When the second alarm rang, I realized it had been nearly an hour. I'd told Mom I'd be right back after checking the measurements. Her admonishment about ol' John's garden rang in my head like an alarm. I sprang up.

"Want's up?" Gaylan asked, as I sprang up and began getting back into my clothes.

"I forgot about telling my mom I'd be right back. If the garden isn't done, it's going to piss off ol' John," I babbled, as I dressed.

"See you tomorrow, then, Bobby?" Sara asked, as she pushed up onto her elbows. I watched as Gaylan gently scooped her up naked off the sheet like Tarzan carrying Jane through the jungle, as I slipped into my tennies.

"Tomorrow, it's a date," I answered, as I hurried off, wishing I had a huggable woman to carry, enjoy, and give her more than just a sunbath. After rounding the corner, I sprinted away and made a beeline for the garden.

Rapidly, I worked the tri-pointed hoe up and down the rows of okra. The sheen covering my sun-drenched body beside the Watters siblings turned into rivulets and rolled down my brow; my tee shirt was soaked. The energy that rolled into each up-and-down chop had driven the turgid blood flow out of my dick and back into my body. I worked non-stop until I heard the Cummings Diesel roll into the driveway and park.

Ol' John strolled down to the garden and watched as I leaned against the hoe, perspiring and sweat leaden.

"You need to pace yourself better, Bobby. Don't pay to get heatstroke out here," he nodded. It seemed like a nod of satisfaction. I could see his mind assessing my weeding. He finished by saying, "Supper should be ready."

Ol' John turned and walked off without waiting. I set the hoe against the shed. Catching up, I walked beside him toward the house.

"Work?" I asked, matching strides with ol' John, and continued up the compacted gravel lane.

"The usual. The frame-up was done on the new build today; weather permitting, it should be dried in by Wednesday."

It was about as much a conversation as we had daily. I hit the shower and quickly toweled off, stopping long enough to check out my dangling member in the mirror. From my angle of view, it didn't come up near as big as Gaylan's. Sara didn't smirk at it, so I guess it measured up. Or she was just too polite to say it didn't.

Dressed, I headed to supper.

Mom joined me mid-morning in the garden. We picked a bushel of green beans, washed them by the back porch, and then sat in the wicker chairs, pulling their strings and snapping them for canning. I brought mason jars from the basement as Mom set up the canning pots to boil the jars. I washed the jars in preparation for immersion.

"I've got it from here, Bobby. Why don't you pick up on some reading...or check in on the Watters? It's too hot to be back in the garden."

I grinned, knowing I'd been set free of the rest of the canning process, at least until it was time to carry the jars down into the cellar for future use.

I was out the back door and barely heard, "Don't let the screen door slam...again!" It did--too late for me to race back and catch it. I chuckled. It wasn't the first time the door slammed, sometimes out of exuberance to escape and sometimes out of anger.