~~~~~~~~~~Somewhere in southern Florida.~~~~~~~~~~
Her name was Caroline. Her family had moved next to ours when I had been four, but somehow I still remember it. My earliest memory of her is when I had been playing hide and seek with a couple of my friends, and she had appeared and asked to join us. My mother had often reminded me to always be nice to girls, so I had welcomed her. After that Caroline had joined us in everything we were up to, and in time us two became inseparable. My other friends always seemed to think of her as one of the boys, but for me she was like the sister I never had.
Despite her being a year younger than me, she was only two inches shorter and in at least as good shape as I was. She could hold her own against us boys in anything from football to a game of tag. I could have won her easily only at arm wrestling, but she could have beat me at a number of things: she was great at throwing ball and was one hell of a sprinter. It was obvious that I respected her greatly, and not only because of her physical qualities. She was smart and funny, always cracking up jokes, lightening up even the darkest atmosphere with her lightheartedness, and she had an easy smile.
She played as ''one of the boys'' until I was 14 and she was 13. Somehow, slowly yet surely, our bunch of friends grew apart. The boys and I would go see a movie or hang out at the mall and she would go with her girlfriends and do whatever it is girls do among themselves. She and my other friends wouldn't see each other anymore. There was no separating us two though. We still saw each other almost daily, went canoeing in the summers, ice skating in the winters, or just sat by their fireplace and talked about things, all kinds of things. There were no boundaries between us.
It wasn't until I turned 17 that things *really* started to change. Caroline had always been just a friend to me, but lately I had begun seeing her in a new light. I came to realize she had developed some rather interesting physical qualities. Out of nowhere she had grown a pair of the cutest, roundest and perkiest breasts to ever have resided on a girl's chest. I'm talking about those kinds of boobs that seem to be unaffected by gravity, except when she would move, when they would bounce and sway hypnotically. Despite their considerable size they would always point straight forward as if as a tribute to the goddess of beauty.
Her hair was a wavy mess of auburn and chestnut. When she had been younger she had kept it almost boyishly short, but now she had let it grow and it was already halfway across her back. Her eyes were blue, and they seemed to have brightened as she had reached her teenage years, as if to reflect her overly positive personality. She had a cute, pointy nose and her full lips would often spread in a tantalizing smile.
Her frame was athletic yet feminine. She had pronounced hips and curvy, ladylike shapes, but there wasn't an ounce of excess fat on her, only well-toned muscle. You could even make out the shapes of her abdominal muscles on her flat stomach. Her thighs were strong yet ladylike, a little thinner at the top, so that when she stood with her legs together there was a small gap between her legs. Her butt was a plump, protruding, heart-shaped eye-catcher, well developed from all the running she liked to do.
I had only recently begun paying attention to these things, and sometimes when I thought of her like that, I would feel a strange tingly sensation inside of me. Similarly to her, my own body had developed. My muscles had grown on their own, hair had appeared where there hadn't been hair before and my voice had deepened. My dick had grown in size, hanging at a nice and fat size now. Some years ago dad had had a one-on-one talk with me, and we had talked for a long time about sex, girls and in time becoming an adult mentally and physically. My family had always been extremely open when it came to these things, and it never bothered me in the least.
During all this Caroline and I kept seeing each other, but sometimes it would feel like there was an unnamed tension rising between us, not necessarily a bad kind, but it felt like there was something we both wanted to say or do but couldn't quite put our finger on it. Sometimes when we were in her house, sitting by the old fireplace on a thick, furry carpet, talking about stuff we thought about, I caught myself staring at her lips, trying to read a silent invitation they seemed to be mouthing, or looking at a breast peeking from her blouse, admiring its beauty, wondering what'd it feel like in my hand. Sometimes I would look her in the eye and see something behind her smile, as if her bright blue eyes hid a question we both knew the answer to.
