Amorous Carolyn

When his little sister Bethany invites a classmate for a sleepover, it begins a wonderful, surprising, romantic relationship between Craig and amorous Carolyn.

Part One

I, Craig Adams, was 10 years old in April of 1972. My little sister Bethany had just turned seven. We got along splendidly. To this day, we affectionately refer to each other as Big Brother and Little Sister during our conversations. Whenever Bethany phones me, she’s likely to say, “Hi, Big Brother!” even though we’re both in our sixties and the difference in our ages no longer matters.

During our school days, Bethany was far more of a social butterfly than I ever was. She made friends by the dozen and chatted easily with anyone and everyone she encountered. I was more of an introvert, but I wasn’t standoffish at all. Ever since her first week in kindergarten, Bethany would regularly bring home female classmates to have fun at our house after school. My lone sibling and I had a large collection of games that we had steadily acquired as birthday and Christmas gifts. There was also the color television set which always had something of interest on it long before the days of cable and satellite TV. Oddly, the programs back then seemed more entertaining when we only had about 10 channels to choose from.

At dinner time one Thursday night, Bethany asked for permission to have a classmate named Carolyn Walters as an overnight house guest on Friday for one of her frequent sleepovers. My parents quickly agreed. They were used to it. Besides, we had a sizable guest room for visitors. Mom said to me, “Craig, I hope you realize you’re allowed to have overnight guests on the weekends, too. Don’t be shy about inviting someone sometime.”

I just shrugged my shoulders and uttered a guttural sound. I added, “Having a sleepover is Bethany’s passion; it’s not really my thing. I have lots of friends at school, but I’m not sure I’d want any of them to be a houseguest here. Let Bethany have her fun. I don’t mind.”

What I said was true. Bethany seemed to have good taste in friends. I don’t recall a single one who annoyed me or was off-putting in any way. We’d always end up playing some games or watching TV, usually the latter. It was the era of excellent, family-friendly TV shows. Friday night’s schedule was especially good. I figured Carolyn Walters, whoever she was, would just be another pleasant, forgettable girl. I had never heard of her before that night.

On Friday, Carolyn arrived with a small suitcase in her hand just before 5 p.m. Carolyn was going to get the full treatment from my parents who enjoyed having houseguests regardless of their ages. She immediately caught my attention. As a fourth-grader, I didn’t care about girls too much yet, but Carolyn was so overwhelmingly pretty that I was transfixed by her. She had piercing blue eyes; straight, shoulder-length, dirty blonde hair; a cute, slightly turned-up nose; dimples; and an infectious smile. To me, Carolyn had a palpable glow about her. For the first time in my life, I made a mental note to keep an eye on a particular female for future girlfriend material. Carolyn Walters was that fetching to my young eyes! Without being asked, I grabbed Carolyn’s suitcase in a gentlemanly manner and showed her where our guest room was located. I noted, “By the way, I’m Craig, Bethany’s older brother. I’m happy to meet you, Carolyn. I think we’ll have lots of fun tonight.” She offered me her hand, and I shook it with a smile on my face.

Mom made homemade hamburgers for us all which were delicious, as usual. Bethany dominated the conversation as was typical of my sister. Carolyn got in a few words, which was a major achievement once Bethany got on a roll. She said her father was an insurance agent. (She cutely explained to us what that was, in case we didn’t know.) Her family had moved from a neighboring city just before the school year had begun in September, so she had only known Bethany, her classmate, for about eight months. Just by the way she put her sentences together, I could tell this girl was clever. That made me like her even more! I had little interest in vapid people, regardless of their genders.

Once we had finished eating, Carolyn politely asked if she could help with the dishes, but Mom declined the kind offer and promptly shooed us downstairs to the rec room. We played two or three rounds of the board game Trouble, which was a new and exciting experience for Carolyn. We stopped when Bethany turned on the TV at 8 p.m. so we could watch her favorite TV show and mine: The Brady Bunch.

“I’m so glad you turned on the TV, Bethany!” Carolyn exclaimed. “I would have hated to miss The Brady Bunch. It’s my favorite show! Did you two see the three episodes where they went to the Grand Canyon?”

Having another devotee of The Brady Bunch watching along with us was great fun. During the commercials, we enthusiastically discussed our favorite episodes. Then Bethany startled me by saying, “You know, Carolyn, I think Craig has a big crush on Marcia Brady!”

I almost gagged on my pretzel when Bethany stated it, but it was undeniably true. Carolyn came to my defense. “What boy doesn’t?” she said. “Maureen McCormick is gorgeous. That’s the name of the actress who plays Marcia.” She didn’t need to tell either of us that factoid.

I smiled and joked, “I’m not fussy. I think Jan is very pretty, too. Carolyn, I’m sure you know that Eve Plumb plays her. It’s too bad they’re both a few years older than I am. I’d like to have either of them as an overnight houseguest—but you are very pretty and super nice yourself, Carolyn, so you’re just as good as they are.”

Carolyn giggled and blushed slightly. Bethany gave me an odd look, as that was the first time I had ever openly complimented one of her sleepover buddies. “I wish I was half as pretty as Maureen McCormick is,” Carolyn replied. “That would make me very happy.”

“You are, Carolyn,” I said with authority. “You definitely are. Oh, the commercials are over. The show’s back on.”

Part Two

We watched The Partridge Family and The Odd Couple after The Brady Bunch concluded, and then we went off to our respective beds. Carolyn made a point of wishing me “sweet dreams”—and she also gave my right hand a gentle and subtle squeeze, which I liked.

I told Carolyn I’d see her again in the morning. I, of course, meant sometime near breakfast. Carolyn had other ideas, though.

When I ascended the stairs and got to my bedroom, I was tired. I dropped off to sleep quickly. I was an early-to-bed type in those days, so it was not odd for me to call it a night around 9:30 p.m. I must have been sleeping soundly because I had no idea that sometime around 4 a.m. Carolyn rose from the bed in the guestroom, walked a few feet down the hallway, and hopped into bed with me—just to snuggle and fall asleep beside me! We were both clothed in our flannel pajamas, of course, and nothing sexual took place. Heck, I was just ten and only had the vaguest notion of how the anatomies of males and females complemented one another. Besides, I was dead to the world and had no idea I now had a bedmate. Carolyn even managed to wrap her arms around me—and mine around her—without causing me to wake up. I was absolutely startled when I did wake up around 7 a.m. to see this very pretty little girl embracing me lovingly. This was something completely new to me, so I didn’t know how to react.

Carolyn grinned at me and said quietly, “Hi, Craig. I came in here about three hours ago to snuggle with you. I just woke up, too.”

“Well…um…okay…I didn’t expect…” I was stammering because I was truly lost for words. I didn’t think of ending our embrace, though. I was alert enough to be enjoying Carolyn’s warm body pressing against mine. She kissed me on the lips before I managed to form a coherent sentence.

Our conversation was a bit louder than we intended. My mother was already awake in the bedroom next to mine. She overheard us talking and must have gotten an eyeful when she walked into my room and saw her 10-year-old son cuddling with our cute, young, female houseguest in his bed. Remarkably, she remained calm and composed when she asked us, “What’s going on here?”

I went into full panic mode. “Mom, it’s not what it looks like! Honest! I just woke up a minute ago and discovered Carolyn in bed with me. She snuck in here in the middle of the night when I was sound asleep. Isn’t that right, Carolyn?”

My bedmate was not rattled in the slightest, which surprised me. “Yes, Craig is right, Mrs. Adams. About three hours ago I came in here to snuggle with him. He’s such a nice boy. I like him a lot. I think he’s yummy!”

I had been described in many ways during the decade I had been alive, but I had never heard the adjective “yummy” used for that purpose before. I think I saw Mom suppress a laugh. Remarkably, she bought the story. “Okay, I believe you,” she said. “We can discuss this over breakfast. If you two want to take a shower before getting dressed, now would be a good time. It’s vacant at the moment.” The way mom phrased that suggestion created a bit of ambiguity. Based on what Mom had just said, I was jokingly going to offer to get into the shower with Carolyn and wash her. Mom recognized her error before I could speak. She clarified, “I meant individual showers—not a shower for two.”

During our pancake breakfast, Bethany learned about her friend’s late trip to my bedroom and had a shocked look that remained on her face for quite a while. Carolyn didn’t know what the fuss was about, though. She said she commonly left her bedroom in the middle of the night if she suddenly had the urge to cuddle in bed with her parents or either of her two older siblings. She said it made her feel especially safe and relaxed. “I do that all the time. I’m sorry if I did anything wrong,” she said apologetically.

I could see tears beginning to form in Carolyn’s gorgeous blue eyes, so I spoke up. “No, you did nothing wrong at all. When I woke up and found you hugging me in my bed, I liked it!” Carolyn was sitting close to me, so I leaned over and gave her a one-handed hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. That act stopped any tears from flowing.

Mom just rolled her eyes at that remark, but dad openly laughed. “Craig, how old are you? Are you 10 or 25?”

After breakfast we were sent downstairs again where we played another game of Trouble, which somehow seemed appropriate under the circumstances. Mom got a phone call from Carolyn’s mother who was wondering if her daughter had remembered to pack a toothbrush. That was likely a ruse. She was likely calling to find out how Carolyn had coped and what time she needed to be picked up from our house. This was apparently the first time in her life that Carolyn had slept anywhere where her parents were not present. Mom stressed that Carolyn had been a great houseguest, but she did mention the bed-switching incident while dismissing it as unimportant.

“Oh, that’s just Carolyn in a nutshell,” her mother told mine. “She’s a very affectionate little girl who loves human contact. Yes, she does occasionally change beds in the middle of the night if she feels anxious, lonely or affectionate. Please apologize to Bethany’s brother for me.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Mom laughed before explaining my reaction. “I can safely attest that Craig was not harmed in any way, mentally or physically, by your pretty daughter’s actions. I’d say Craig is doing a rotten job trying to hide the fact that he enjoyed the brief time he was awake while in bed with Carolyn.”

Mom was right. When I had a chance to be alone with Carolyn for about a minute, I told her she was welcome to sleep with me anytime she wanted. This time I kissed her on her lips to show that I was being sincere.

For the next few weeks, my dad had a new nickname for me: Yummy. Bethany still uses it occasionally to this day if she wants to get a reaction out of me.

Part Three

Carolyn became Bethany’s best friend—although my sister did not quite understand Carolyn’s attraction to her introverted big brother. She frequently came for Friday night sleepovers, but she never hopped into my bed again. (Darn it!) Still, we did a lot of hugging and kissing while watching TV and playing games and for any other reason we could think of. Bethany witnessed our shared affection and just accepted it as normal after a while. She would, however, occasionally make sarcastic comments, such as “When you two stop smooching, we can continue our game. Craig, it’s your turn. Are you almost finished kissing Carolyn yet? This game has slowed down to a crawl.” Bethany must have told Mom about it too, because Mom would needle us the same way every now and then. “Come upstairs for dinner, you three!” she’d holler to us from the kitchen. “Craig and Carolyn, you can continue your hugging and kissing after the meal!”

I didn’t care about the ribbing I was getting. I loved how affectionate this girl was. I didn’t care a whit that I was three years older than she was, either. I figured any female who loved me that unconditionally deserved to get my love in return.

Puberty struck when I was 12, but that didn’t make me turn my attention to girls my own age. Nine-year-old Carolyn Walters was still the apple of my eye. I had told her on my eleventh birthday that I intended to marry her in about a dozen years—and I was completely serious. Our hugging and kissing sprees continued unabated. My passion for them only increased as we both aged. One day when I was 14 and she was 11, we were both especially frisky in showing our affection to each other. We were on the rec room couch together, but we weren’t watching sitcoms. I was basically lying atop her. My hands were just beginning to wander to key places on her anatomy I had yet to explore. Unfortunately, Dad happened to walk into the room and quickly put a stop to what we were doing before we really did anything too sexy. “Not the time nor the place nor the age for that sort of thing!” he chastised both of us. This time Carolyn did break down in tears. She didn’t muster the courage to visit my house again for about two weeks.

About four years later, it was the first week of my senior year in high school. Bethany and Carolyn were beginning their freshman years. It was the first time my sister and I attended the same school at the same time since I was in the sixth grade and she was in the third grade. On the second day of school, Bethany passed me in the hallway and said, “How’s school going today, Yummy?” I turned around fast enough to give her a playful swat on her behind.

I hadn’t seen much of Carolyn as her homeroom was located nowhere near mine, and her ninth-grade classes were on a different floor than my twelfth-grade ones. She was drawing attention, though. She had matured beautifully. The pretty girl that had caught my attention as a first-grader was now certifiably gorgeous from her head to her toes! She still had that glow about her, too. Boys of all ages couldn’t help but notice.

To my delight, on the fourth day of the new school year, a fellow in my homeroom named Wayne Dalton said to me and a handful of other males, “Ninth-grade girls don’t generally appeal to me very much anymore, but there’s one girl I just saw in the hallway who is unbelievably attractive. I’d rate her miles ahead of any other girl her age in good looks. Does anyone know who she is and if she has a boyfriend? I correctly concluded that Wayne had to be talking about Carolyn, so I opened my wallet and took out a small photo of her in her eighth-grade graduation gown. “Is this the girl you’re talking about, Wayne?”

Wayne was startled, but he agreed Carolyn was the girl he had been raving about. “That photo doesn’t do her justice,” he said to me. “She’s super beautiful up close.”

“I couldn’t agree more!” I said in reply. “Her name is Carolyn Walters. She’s certainly a lot of fun to hug and kiss, too. I’ve been doing it for nearly eight years. Sorry, Wayne she’s taken. I intend to marry her." I showed him the back of the photo where Carolyn had written. “With love and kisses from your future wife.” Wayne was clearly disappointed, but he shook my hand and said, “Well, aren’t you a lucky fellow!” The other boys concurred—but being typical males, they vowed to keep eying Carolyn regardless of her availability.

It was a Friday, so Carolyn was going to be an overnight houseguest for the fiftieth time that night. I met her at her locker, where she had kept her small suitcase so she could come to my house directly from school. Bethany had a band practice—she played the oboe. She would be delayed for about an hour, so I volunteered to walk home with my beautiful Carolyn. After we had strolled slightly more than a block, I told her she had a growing fan club among boys my age, and I informed her about Wayne’s glowing comments. They surprised her somehow. Upon seeing her expression, I remarked, “Carolyn, you have to accept that you are among the most beautiful girls in the whole world and you’ll always draw attention from healthy, red-blooded males.”

That comment stopped her in her tracks. She stood on her tiptoes—I was about five inches taller than she was—embraced me and gave me a very passionate kiss.

“Are you warming up for when we get to my house, Carolyn?” I asked her.

“No, I’m warming up for right now!” she said passionately. “I’m 14½ and I’ve waited long enough. I want to have a fuck with you, Craig—and I want to do it right now.”

I took her very literally and said, “I love the idea, but that would be just a little bit awkward here on the sidewalk in front of this whole neighborhood, don’t you think, Carolyn?”

She laughed and said, “I didn’t mean right here, Craig. There must be some secluded place we can go for ten minutes.”

“Oh, you think I can only last ten minutes with you?” I responded in mock anger. Then I gently remarked, “Carolyn, you are so gorgeous that ten minutes of sex with you would test any male’s stamina and ability to hold his load for more than 30 seconds.”

I quickly came up with a brilliant plan. We had just walked past a public park that had two adjoining tennis courts at its furthest end. I played there occasionally, so I knew the geography well. The nets had been removed the day after Labor Day, so no one else would likely be anywhere nearby. There was a hill to the left of the courts that descended to a wooded area that was completely out of any passerby’s eyesight. I told Carolyn, “My love, if you are as horny as I am, that’s our best bet for privacy.” She agreed. We practically sprinted there.

I was right. No one was around. We descended to the bottom of the hill. I said, “Hey, it’s not the honeymoon suite at the Waldorf-Astoria, but its angle is steep enough to provide us an excellent fucking venue. I’ll show you what I mean.”

I was already fully erect at the thought of finally screwing Carolyn. We both had been waiting for the day when we could do that legally. In fact, we were six months beyond it since Carolyn’s fourteenth birthday was back in March. We quickly removed our clothing. I had fantasized about undressing Carolyn for the past six years, so I was oddly disappointed that she was so eager to disrobe and deprived me of performing the happy task. Oh, well! This was still going to be the highlight of my life so far!

We shared a long kiss while standing. Then I lifted her off her feet and gently laid her on the incline of the hill. She could be comfortable while I had the leverage to give her some mighty sexual thrusts. First, though, I wanted to sample her gorgeous titties. They were perfectly formed masterpieces. They featured beautiful, pokey nipples, indicating she was as sexually turned on as I was. I fondled and licked them for at least five minutes. All the while, I felt my penis getting harder and harder. Carolyn helped by caressing my rod and testicles with both her hands. I had never been this sexually aroused in my life, despite having a few meaningless dalliances with various “easy girls” beginning in the seventh grade.

“Let me suck on it, Craig. I’ve wanted to do that for years,” Carolyn confessed. We changed positions and Carolyn gave me quite a passable blowjob. At one point she stopped to comically note, “Craig, it’s amazing what they teach the girls in health class nowadays!” That witty comment made me laugh. I’m glad she uttered it because I would have likely ejaculated without that brief comic relief. I wanted to ejaculate elsewhere.

After about five minutes of receiving oral sex, I returned to the dominant position on the incline and licked Carolyn’s pussy for at least as long as she had pleasured my penis. Some guys don’t like the taste of a vagina, but Carolyn’s was ambrosia to me. She must have liked it, too, as she squealed and abruptly discharged plenty of feminine liquid from her aroused organ. I lapped it up, not wanting to waste a drop of it.
Then I placed my throbbing manhood where I had been busily licking, and I slowly drove it inside her. The feeling was as good as I’d imagined for all these years. I was fairly well endowed (so I was told) and I didn’t want to hurt Carolyn, so I took it fairly easy on her, with slow loving thrusts that made her breasts jiggle sexily in front of my face. After about the twentieth push, I told her I was nearing an orgasm. “Where should I come?” I inquired.

“Anywhere except inside my pussy, Craig. I know we’re planning to have a large family someday, but I don’t want to get pregnant at this point in my life.”

I took that as a license to come anywhere else and everywhere else. I pulled out just in time to fire a gush of semen on Carolyn’s stomach, breasts and face. She had always had a pretty face, but it never looked better to me than it did at that moment, with strings of my warm, thick cum covering her cheeks and forehead and dangling from her nose and ears. It was sexier than anything I had seen in those explicit European porn magazines. Fortunately, I had a small packet of tissues that I quickly retrieved from the pocket of my jeans so she could clean herself up, although I could have stared at my handiwork for hours without tiring of the sight. Carolyn had a few tissues, too. They were needed. I had just experienced the strongest cum shot of my life. I put on my wristwatch and glanced at the time. “Congratulate me,” I proudly said to Carolyn. “I lasted about 14 minutes with you.”

Amazingly, that was the only time that Carolyn and I had sex before our marriage which came seven years later. We still cuddled and kissed vigorously—including that same night when she was a houseguest. However, we somehow agreed, without officially discussing it, that we could now wait for our honeymoon for another carnal romp. I never even told my male classmates about my terrific experience near the tennis courts—although the desire to boast about my carnal familiarity with the prettiest girl in our school was almost overwhelming.

Prior to our wedding day, Bethany presented us with a complete set of cookware, which was a very traditional gift. She also handed us a second one. It was obviously a book in wrapping paper. I let Carolyn reveal its title. It was a hardcover copy of Growing Up Brady, Barry Williams’ combination autobiography and detailed look back at The Brady Bunch. Williams had played Greg Brady, the oldest of the three boys. Somehow Bethany had tracked him down to autograph it for us. Above his signature, he had penned on one of the blank pages, “Best of luck in your married life together. Thanks for being loyal fans of the show.”

Carolyn was thoroughly delighted by the book. She always thought Greg was “a hunk” and said so repeatedly, much to my annoyance. I was miffed for another reason, though.

“You couldn’t find Maureen McCormick to autograph it, too?” I asked Bethany with a cheeky grin. “Marcia Brady is twice as pretty as my gorgeous fiancée is. Isn’t that right, Carolyn? Boy, I’d like to give her a good screwing.”