.. Leonora ..

It was in that very sweet and innocently conceived little bunkhouse, one hot summer night, long, long ago, that the whole world turned upside down for me.

In one fell swoop, the Roberts' bunkhouse totally eclipsed my Grandad's old woodshed as the focal point of all my wondrous and amazing, Mannitoc Lake fascinations. In a lightning flash, life suddenly took on a whole new meaning.

The summer it happened, Leonora Roberts was almost 17 and soon to be a haughty senior, while Gene and I were but still wee laddies of 14 tender years. No matter, though. Leonora showed both of us young boys a thing or two that year. It was the year before we went into tenth grade, and we were typical gangly and clumsy, hormonally frustrated, young teenaged bucks.

Thankfully, Leonora didn't seem to physically resemble her parents too closely. Leonora's father, Leopold Roberts, was a fiery little Frenchman. Leopold was a successful storekeeper, gnarled and bent from hard work, and Leonora's mother, Mati, was the quiet and shy type, the tall and unassuming, dark-skinned daughter of hard-working Lebanese immigrants.

Leonora was the unlikely result of that odd union, and from very early on, she was a smoldering and beautiful firebrand. Now vital and vibrant and 17, Leonora was the newly elected captain of the varsity cheerleaders. This active young woman was possessed of an insatiable athletic appetite, and she had the alluring and strikingly good looks necessary to facilitate feeding it.

Leonora was no less than a living doll with a classically beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous face. Her chocolate mocha complexion sparkled exotically behind sensuous full lips, and mysterious, almond shaped, emerald green eyes peered over high, delicate cheekbones. She had a firm, ample bosom, perfectly sculpted legs, and slim gorgeous ankles.

Lovely Leonora would finally be a senior when school started in the fall, but she'd already been around the block a few times. As a matter of fact, she was hardly a stranger to a score of football letterman who had worn the sacred maroon and white the previous couple of seasons. But summer was already on the wane and the graduated athletes she had been sporting were mostly all now heading off to college or into the service.

I will never forget that very first night that Leonora caught Gene and I in her steamy little bunkhouse. It was like standing by the lion cages at feeding time–––and we were the dinner!

Flashback to three summers before, when I was an innocent eleven year old nubbin. My buddy Dave Granger had gotten all excited one day about showing me something he said was unbelievably cool. Some neighbor kids in town had told us some wild tales recently about a magic "cream" that men produced that could mysteriously grow babies inside of girls.

.... So....

....Dave had asked his older brother Jimmy about the whole thing. Jimmy was around 15 then, very large for his age, arrogant, smug, and supremely conceited. For whatever twisted reasons, Jimmy enthusiastically agreed to demonstrate the production of this magic "cream" for Dave and I in the bunkhouse at the Granger's camp.

Big Jimmy Granger used only an old dog-eared edition of Playboy magazine, a pack of Marlboro reds, and a warm can of Schlitz lager beer as his inspirational tools for the grand demonstration. Actually, ....Jimmy only described the process to us verbally. Then he sent us from the bunkhouse while he worked diligently at the controls, behind the drawn curtains of his bunkhouse bedroom in private.

After some minutes passed, Jimmy finally hailed us outside to come back in. Upon our return, Jimmy proudly announced that the several droplets of thick, crystal clear juice which he had produced was "cream." They emerged from the hole at the tip of his gigantic stiff pecker, running slowly back over its swollen purple crown, then down all over Jimmy's great bony thumb.

Jimmy seemed very pleased with himself, and Dave and I were absolutely fascinated. I remember, I just couldn't get over the huge tuft of wiry black pubic hair growing wildly at the root of Jimmy's dick. Our own little buds were still rosy and pink, pre-pubescent, and as smooth and clean as a freshly shaven quim.

Anyway, after waiting outside the bunkhouse forever, the show was over very quickly. That was pretty much all we saw, too, because Jimmy immediately told us to get lost so he could finish up his bawdy chores.

Naturally, after that revelatory little episode, our sundry pursuits quickly turned towards procuring Playboy magazines and Marlboro cigarettes–––"hardpack, if you please," and prodigious efforts at reproducing the mystical and magical "cream."

After a time, some minor technical adjustments, and much practice, Gene and I gained a certain level of proficiency at giving ourselves pleasure, and as the weeks and months passed, our erotic fantasies developed into awkward advances on the hopelessly disinterested females at our school. Before that, we had always perceived girls in general as being nonexistent, ....or at least, in no respect important in our own lives.

In any case, neither our wildest masturbatory imaginations, nor our minor and infrequent schoolyard and Junior High dancehall kissing conquests could have ever prepared us for the full force and fury of Leonora Roberts on that warm and fateful August night.

As we passed behind the Roberts' camp that night, making our way home from down the shore, Leonora asked us for a cigarette from behind her bunkhouse screen door. When we obliged her, Leonora lit up and exhaled long sleek clouds from her sexy dark lips. She was an alluring vision of God like proportions flown before our lusting young eyes. When she asked if we'd smoke with her, we fumbled nervously with our own smokes in her intimidating presence.

She looked us over with a calculating cool and beckoned us inside saying something about an ashtray she had in there. We had to bend over in the tiny room just to stand up, it was so small. After a while, we carefully crushed out our smokes in the ashtray on the tiny table at the head of twin beds that filled the cramped room like mackerels in a sardine can. Gene sat down, falling over on one bed, and I plunked down right next to Leonora on the other.

No sooner had Gene sat down opposite us, than Leonora told him to come over and sit by her side, putting one hand around my waist, and shutting off the tiny bedside lamp at the same time with her other.

Once that lamp switch clicked, there was no more small talk involved ....it was more like a couple of new lambs meekly bleating while the ferocious hungry feline growled and readied to feed. I could only watch in astonishment in the smoky moonlight as Leonora pulled Gene towards us, her hand firmly clutching his crotch.

Before I could even gulp, Leonora's hand around my waist now raised higher, pulling my face close to her scintillating breasts. She smelled like a hot, wild animal. The aromas of tobacco, and perfume, and sweat and musk, all in one, heady, suffocating cloud, rose up thickly in my flaring nostrils. I was desperately trying to suck in a breath between her hard, hot tits and my burning cheeks, unable and unwilling to move in her determined grasp. Leonora continued to pull my already buried face even deeper into her luscious cleavage.

I think poor Gene was in shock. Leonora still had him by the crotch, but now she had bared him clean, her hot little palm expertly kneading his naked flesh. She had him perfectly straight-jacketed as well, his jeans binding him nicely around his trembling thighs.

Meanwhile, Leonora easily guided my blubbering lips lower, pushing my head straight down to her belt buckle, all at the same time she was manhandling Gene on the other end. When I finally managed to get my hands up between my face and her kitchen pantry, I could only grope numbly at the suddenly confusing buttons at her fly. In the wink of an eye, Leonora had her pants deftly undone and pushed down over her thin lovely ankles, ....the whole works, panties, stockings, and all.

Her scent was suddenly thicker and hotter now, rising straight into my nostrils from her rippling, hard silky groin. Her powerful aroma had taken on some new stronger tone now, almost like ammonia. What was it?

Good God! ....it was the hard edged penetrating smell of her PEE–––and it smelled DELECTABLE!