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A wildPage story from MrDouble's archive, 
File: wpcarla.txt from wpcarla.zip
http://www.mrdouble.com



Untitled (Carla)

by anonX


What are the forces that cause a person to realize his sexual appetite is changing from societal norms to desires society considers ill? I had always been normal, and, despite my change, I still regard myself so. Others do not. My relationships were always with women within 2 years of my age. My encounters were always the same. The thought of any sexual activity with young teen-age girls, or pre-teen girls never occurred to me. During a visit home between my junior and senior years in college, however, the thought of sexual activity between a pre-teen girl and myself did occur. To her. And so it began.

Carla was my sister's best friend. The girl to first lose the baby fat in her cheeks. To first develop the curves that, slightly, but dramatically signal the coming of a woman from the androgynous forms of boys and girls of that age. I was 12 when Carla's crush on me was known to me. She was 4. I was 16 when it became clear that Carla was something more than a cute girl. At 8 she was striking, though still boyish. When I left for school at 18, rumors of Carla's lost virginity reached me. At 10, Carla found herself a plaything in her equally attractive sister's love life. Her sister, Christy, is four years her senior and she began having sex when she was 9, or so it is said. 

It was her 21-year-old boyfriend who took Carla first, and subsequent countless times. The gossip from my 10-year-old sister would detail Carla's experiences with four men - all Christy's boyfriends -- 18- to 21-years old in the two years I was away at school. I spent little time contemplating Carla's life. The thought that occurred to me was that as pretty as her face was, she still had the body of a boy when I saw her last. I could not imagine any of Christy's boyfriends wasting time on Carla when Christy had already arrived. I remembered Carla as a pest. She had a crush on me, so she'd always hang around wherever I was in the neighborhood.  My sister actually dreamed that I would realize that Carla was the love of my life and her best friend would become her sister.

It was three hours into my first visit home before Carla tracked me down and two things were abundantly clear. I was still, at 6-5, 220 pounds, the greatest basketball player on the block. Sweaty, stripped to shorts and sneakers, and exhausted after three solid hours of ball, the second thing that became clear was just why Christy's boyfriends were wasting time on Carla. She was still short, no more than 5', more likely 4-10. Now 12, Carla was not the same 12 my sister was.

Had her stature not given away the fact that she still had growing to do, she'd have been 20 to anyone not knowing her. Her body was tanned from endless days showing off what others did not have. Wearing outrageously short jean cut-offs and a bikini top too small for even her still developing breasts she clearly relished the immediate, unconscious stoppage in the basketball game that her appearance brought. I have difficulty describing facial features, but the best I can do is to associate it with someone many of us have seen. She had the face of Kari Wurher, a short-lived MTV music jock and Blue-movie actress. Cute, but sensuous.

Her body had no trace of baby fat common to youth. She was amazingly tight. Aside from her height, her breasts betrayed her age. Growing into a comfortable B-cup, her nipples were large, framed through the fabric. The difference between a budding breast and one of a mature woman ought to be well known to any still reading this story. Carla was the creation of 10 years of dreams. As disrupting as her appearance was to the game, and as clearly pleased with it as Carla was, the look on her face when the game resumed was the perfect, "I have each of you."

No longer friendly, the game became one of showmanship. Actually, the better word would be cocksmanship. Baskets were punctuated with silent bravado. The intensity became that a professional playoff game. No freebies. No talking. Just six guys trying to impress a 12-year-old girl who just sat, legs spread, giggling with her very young looking cousin and my sister. Though I didn't think about any chances at being Carla's fifth, I was drawn into the contest. I was the best and I wanted Carla to want me the most. I remember thinking to myself, "Damn, I wish she was just a little older." That thought would not last, and is, to this day regretted. She was just the right age.

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