Luna Zax's Story Blog

A collection of my stories and other erotic thoughts…. please enjoy…

Weekend Friends – Part 1a: Arrival

Posted by Luna on June 1, 2009

A beginning, hopefully…

This is the start of a story I have been trying to write for quite some time.  The story is that of a younger girl discovering pleasures with another friend her age.  The setting is the beach, during the summertime, and it does hit home for me, based on my childhood. 

This is going to be another slow one, and in fact this chapter is 100% set-up, without even a hint of any thing going on.  So if you’re looking for ‘action’, it’s not found in this post. 

Let me know what you think,


Weekend Friends – Part 1a
by Luna Zax

Story codes (gg, no sex)

Disclaimer: If stories of underage sex make you all wiggy and weirded out, please don’t read the following. It is intended as pure fantasy. If you cannot understand the difference between fantasy indulgement and condonement, you should not read the following story. I do not, in any way, condone or agree with sexual activity betwen adults and underage children.

My dog, Shelby, smelled it first.  He started sniffing at the window, right when we got off of the interstate.  My dad rolled the window down, and Shelby tried to stick his whole nose out the window.

“Can you smell it, Colleen?  That’s the ocean.”

I tried to sniff, but all I could smell was golden retriever.  Not an unpleasant smell, but I had been smelling it for the last two hours since we left home on that humid July afternoon.  Dad had taken off on friday, and we left soon after lunch.  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, the sun-coated vinyl seat hitting a new spot on my bare leg, making me jump temporarily.

“You can’t get that at home, I’ll tell you that.  Ooooh look, Vegetable Stands, maybe we should stop?” 

The conversation continued between my parents debating the merits of stopping at a roadside stand versus just getting to the house.  As the stands flew by my window in the backseat in the air conditioned Oldsmobile, I was guessing that my mother won. 

My dad had been buzzing about the beach house since last December.  He thought it would be fun for us to rent a place in the town where he spent the summer with his aunt, uncle, and grandparents, Sea Point Grove.  So, we rented a house for the month of July, and were going to go down every weekend. It was supposedly a nice little cottage only 3 blocks from the beach.  

I sighed a little bit.

My mom turned back to look at me, “What’s wrong, Coll?”

I shrugged my shoulders.  I was looking forward to the summer down at the beach, but mostly I was thinking about Becky.  Becky was my younger cousin, and she was going to come down with us on the weekends.  But the previous weekend, she had broken her leg, and her mother thought that she would get sand in her cast.  She was probably right, but Becky and I had talked for months about what we were going to do at the beach: riding bikes, getting ice cream, going swimming, maybe even going on a boat. 

“I just… If only Becky could have come with us.  I was looking forward to it”

“Now Colleen, don’t let “if onlys” spoil a great weekend at the beach.  You don’t want to spend all of your time moping, and none of it having fun,” said Mom

I knew she was right, but it didn’t make it any easier.

“Plus, the people who we rented from said that there are a lot of kids your age on the street.  You can go and make some nice friends.”

I quietly sighed to myself and closed my eyes.  I wasn’t one who made friends easily, but I worked my butt off to not let my mom know about it.  My mom would overreact, or go to school, or have me go to some councellor, or even worse ask me if I made friends every day I came home from school.  My father wasn’t much better giving me generic, “Just go out there, and be yourself,” and “Be a leader not a follower,” and “One day you’re going to blossom and think you were so silly worrying about these things.”

I heard the sound of the car going over the bridge, and I opened my eyes.  Out my window was a low bridge, and underneath was the bay.  Greenish Blue, covered with marina and fishing boats.  I looked out the front window, peering between my parents bucket seats. 

“Do you see it?” said my father with an excited tone.

I looked out at the horizon, and there it was.  The ocean.  Stretching out as far as the eye could see.  You could even see the white tops of a few waves. 

Regardless of my worry and my mood, a smile came across my face.  My father quickly noticed and gave my hair a tossel.

“That’s my girl,” he said, “You’re going to love it.  I promise.” 

I sat back down in my seat, embarassed that he noticed my emotion, and even worse that he made a promise that he couldn’t keep. 

The excitement in the car grew: my father’s voice getting louder and louder, my mother fidgeting and trying to fold up maps and clean up the front seat, the dog was circling and looking out the window,  and even I got anxious to be on my feet. 

My father made a left turn, and we pulled up this street, where each house had a different look.  Some old cottages that looked to be 100 years old or so, a few up and down houses each with decks, and a few newer houses with several sections.  Finally, my father pulled into a small red cape cod style house with a long driveway.

“Here we are,” he said before parking it in the driveway, and popping the trunk. 

I stepped out of the car, and now even I could smell the salt air.  It was wonderful, for sure.  I was surprised when a gust of air brushed across my arms giving me goosebumps.  It had been so hot when we left home.  I covered my arms with my hands, and shivered slightly. 

My mother noticed and replied, “It’s cooler at the seashore.  People used to come to the beach when they didn’t have air conditioning, cause the city was too hot.  You’ll need more jackets and long ziptops than you think.”

Dad dropped a few bags of luggage on the pavement, and I grabbed the fading lavender bag that I recognized as my own.  Mom grabbed her purse and headed to the front door, fumbling for the keys to the cottage.   I looked around on the street, it was bright and cheerful, but there was no one there.  So much for teeming with kids.

Mom unlocked the door, and we went inside.  The smell inside the house was musty but the hint of saltiness from the air made it rather pleasant.  The house was a bit warm, but mom said that it had been closed up for months.  There was a little bit of dust on the furniture, and the windows needed to be opened. 

“Well, we’ll have to clean it up a bit,” said Mom, “But that won’t take long.  I know that your father is anxious to get on the beach today.  Listen Colleen, why don’t you go down the hall and pick which bedroom you want.  Since Becky isn’t here, you can take your pick of the double or the room with the big bed.

I walked back to the room, and inspected both rooms.  The room with the double twin beds looked the best.   It had the most room, and plenty of drawers to put things in.  The light in the room was good for reading, and it was far away from my parents bedroom and the living room, so I’d have some privacy.   I raised the blind and opened the window and the breeze from the ocean hit my face.  In the warm and stuffy house, it felt really nice. 

I dropped my bag on the first bed in the room, and sat on the bed closest to the window.  I liked it well enough.  Once Mom put my sheets on the bed, and I put my pictures up, it would feel enough like home.

I sighed as I lay on the bed, wondering what the seashore had to offer me.


The rest of Friday was rather pedestrian.  I helped my parents unload the car, and went with Mom to go get groceries.  By the time we came back from the store, the cars were driving into town for the weekend.  My father was walking around rather smug that he had taken off Friday, as if it was some big secret he had learned.

My dad cooked steaks on the hibachi grill that he found in the shed behind the house.  I stood outside with him, practicing jumping rope and doing cartwheels.  We had a really nice dinner, and my parents sat on the porch saying hello to everyone who walked by the street.  I stayed in my room and read my book. 

Mom said that the salt air makes you tired more easily.  I’m not sure that’s true, I may have been exhausted from the day, but I did fall asleep somewhere around 9:30.

The next day I awoke to the smell of sausages cooking in the kitchen.  I normally hate breakfast, as I really don’t like eggs, but the smell was wonderful.  I prepped my hair a little bit, and came out to find my Mom cooking sausages and pancakes, something she rarely made because of my father’s diabetes. 

“Well hello there sleepyhead.  Slept in your clothes did  you?” she asked cheerfully.

I nodded agreement as I rubbed the sleep dust out of my eyes.

“You were asleep when your dad and I came in from the porch.  I would have helped you change, but you seemed really tired, so I just let you go.”

Although I felt weird after sleeping in my clothes, especially my socks, I agreed inwardly that it was probably better to let me sleep.  I get cranky when woken up unexpectedly. 

“Where’s Dad?” I asked.

“Oh, your father decided to go for a walk with Shelby.  Wanted to go buy a newspaper.  He said, and I quote, that the salt air invigorated his dormant calesthenic and aerobic spirit within, end quote. ”

I nodded and grabbed a glass of orange juice that my mother had poured for me.  I pursed my lips together to strain out the pulp from the juice.

“It’s a beautiful day today.  Your dad said he saw some rafts and other beach stuff in the shed out back.  Why don’t you go look and see if there’s anything there that you want to take to the beach?” she asked. 

I grabbed my sandals and walked out of the house, and went around back to the shed.  As I walked back, I realized that there was just a small fence between our house and the house behind ours, like only 3 feet.  Total lack of privacy, where I was used to tall fences, or even creeks, treelines, and hills behind houses.  

I heard a noise, and saw a young boy playing in back of his house.  He was throwing a tennis ball against the back of the house, which was a flat brick wall, and then catching it.   He looked to be a few years older than I was, maybe 12 or so.   He was kindof tall and had brownish hair with a lot of freckles on his face. He wore a basketball tank top, and blue shorts. 

I tended to be scared of strangers, but the pebbles that filled the yard made it impossible to be silent.   He heard the noise and turned my direction.

“Hey there,” he called out friendily. 

I shrugged my shoulders and said hi back, and walked to the shed, which was unlocked.

“I saw that someone moved into the Johnson’s place.  You guys rent the house out the while summer?”

“No, just July,” I replied not looking at him.  I tried to pull the shed door, but it didn’t budge, despite the lock being undone.

“You have to lift it up,” said the boy who had walked closer to the fence separating us, “It sticks, so you have to lift it so it doesn’t hit the ground.”

I lifted up the shed door, like the boy suggested, and the door opened much easier.  I looked in and saw garden tools and materials, a clothesline, and old lawn mower, and various beach stuff, including an umbrella, beach chairs, a bucket and shovel, and two inflatable rafts, one an inner tube and the other a raft.

“Thanks,” I called out to the boy.

“What’s your name?” said the boy, “My name is Chris.  We’re staying at my grandmother’s house.”

“Oh ok,” I replied back, still feeling shy.  I was used to walking around the outside of the house without bumping into someone, that plus my general shyness made me want to run back inside, or have him go away.

“So, are you like in fifth grade or something?  You look like you’re the same age as my sister.  She’s in 5th grade.”

I called back, “No, I’m in 6th grade.  I’m going to turn 11 in June.”  I had always looked rather young for my age, but didn’t like to be reminded of it.”

“Cool.  I’m 12, but I’ll turn 13 in November. ”

“Nice,” I replied.

“My sister, Melissa.  She just turned 10.  Do you want to go with us to the park later?  I’m going to go shoot hoops, and my sister wants to tag along and watch.  You’re welcome to come along.”

“Oh ok.  That sounds like fun,” I started to say, but was going to decline.

“Great.  I’ll tell her.  She can stop by and get you, like around 10:30 or so.  Okay, bye.”

I started to say something, but he ran back into the house with his tennis ball.  I looked out to make a protest saying that she didn’t need to come to my house, but he was already gone. 

I looked over the condition of the two rafts.  Both looked fine, but needed to be filled with air.  I also found two beach balls underneath the raft.

I walked back inside the house, and told my mom who was still cooking breakfast about the rafts, “Plus,” I continued, “This boy from behind our house started talking to me.”

“Oh,” came the reply.

“Yeah, he was a little older than me.  Seemed to know about the house, and that we were renting it out,” I said thinking that maybe my depiction of a strange boy would stop my over-protective mother from things continuing.

“That’s probably the McIntyres.  They stay with their grandmother sometimes.  The person who rented us this place said that they were about your age,” came the reply as my mother continued to review the pancakes.

“Well, the boy… he invited me to go to the playground.  I didn’t know what we were doing, so…”

“We’re not going to the beach until later.  I think it would be good for you to make friends while we’re here.  I know you wanted Becky to come, but maybe the boy knows some girls you can hang out with,” responded Mom in her annoying, I know what’s best for you tone.

I had wanted Mom to give me an excuse to get out of going to the playground.   But hanging around the house with mom and dad wasn’t much better of an idea. 

I went and changed my clothes from the night before, gave my face a decent wash, and brushed my teeth.  I put on a green t-shirt and tan shorts, and wore my flops.  I went back out to greet the world.

A few minutes after I emerged from my room, my dad came back in the house with an enthusiastic Shelby in tow, who rushed for his water bowl, and started slopping up the water, spraying the legs of both me and my mother. 

My father raved about the salt air and the sun, as Mom served buttermilk pancakes with fresh blueberries.  I think she bought them right after Becky cancelled, as I love blueberries.  I was in post-sugar bliss when there was a knock a the front door followed by Shelby’s loud barking.

I looked over and slightly groaned when I saw the top of the boy, Chris’s sandy brown hair through the screen door.  My father looked curious at both of us, and started to go to the door.  My mother looked at me with a raised eyebrow, letting me know that she didn’t approve of me hiding behind my dad.

“Dad, it’s okay.  I’ll get it.”

He stood to the side as I opened the door pushing Shelby behind.  Chris was standing on the porch, a little worried about the dog. 

“Hi,” I said curtly, as I looked down at the ground.

“Hey!” he said, brightening, “I’m glad you answered the door.  You didn’t tell me your name, and I was hoping that I didn’t just have to ask for the girl of the house.”

He laughed at his joke, a little too much.  I smiled at him, to go along with it.

“Colleen, my name is Colleen.”

“Cool!” he replied, “I’m heading over to the playground.  I have some friends who might be there.  We can all hang out if you want.”

I heard the sound of footsteps on the stones, and then I saw a girl, presumably his sister.  She wore a blue bucket hat, and had the same sandy brown hair, with her bangs falling just overtop her forehead.  She was shorter than me, and her freckles covered her face.

“Hey Melissa.  Did you find the frisbee?”  asked Chris.

She rolled her eyes and threw it at his head.  He started to duck as I moved out of the way.  He grabbed the frisbee out of the air before it hits the ground.

“Quit it, Melissa… Don’t be a pain.”

She shrugged her shoulders, and looked over at me, noticing me for the first time. 

“Hi there,” she said, “You agreed to come to the playground after meeting my baboon of a brother?”

I shrugged, and not wanting to seem rude to Chris, “I wasn’t doing anything and it seemed okay.”

She smiles at me.  She has a really pretty smile, and I notice that she has bright emerald green eyes.

“Oh I know.  I’m busting on him.  He’s fine, just comes on a little much sometimes.  Do you want to go to the playground?  I just watch my brother.  Most of the girls in the town just go to the beach and stare at boys.” 

I shrugged my shoulders, not having much else of anything to do. 

“Okay great, let’s go!” she said, and the three of us walked towards the playground.

<End of Part 1a>

One Response to “Weekend Friends – Part 1a: Arrival”

  1. […] Weekend Friends – Part 1a: Arrival […]

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