Old and true.
When I was six, I lived in a neighborhood with many kids my own age, give or take two years. In 1952 kids were everywhere, male and female. I had the good fortune to live across the alley from Sharon. She was about six months older than me, and an only child, like me. For many months we got into the habit of watching 'Howdy Doody' together in her basement. I remember that in the summer she always got impetigo, a skin disorder; and I always had poison ivy at about the same time. One day we were sitting and waiting for 'Howdy' on her basement couch, and I honestly forget who brought the subject up, but one of us suggested that we go into the boiler room and take off our clothes which we did. We stood there for a minute or so and she asked me, 'What's that?' I asked her why she didn't have one. Neither of us knew anything. We proceeded to turn back to back and rub our backsides together for quite a spell. We both agreed this was feeling good, and we habitualized this routine every afternoon before 'Howdy' at five-thirty. We explored one another to be sure. I remember spreading her cheeks and looking inside; and when she put her whole hand over my penis and gently squeezed it. Unfortunately for us, her mother appeared suddenly one day from the upstairs kitchen all the way into the boiler room. We were rump-rubbing in the altogether. She cleared her throat, as neither of us saw her immediately, and said, 'I thought you two were up to something.' I was sent home frightened to death that my parents would find out. But they didn't.
Three years passed and the guys in the neighborhood had a fine football game every afternoon; about eight of us. One day, Sharon came through the bushes at my friend John's house just to watch us play in his large backyard. She came thru by the garage and we spotted her immediately. We sauntered over, all of us, because she was a girl and we never had a girl in John's yard before. We all made some small talk until it grew old. Then I asked Sharon if she wanted to show the guys what we used to do in her basement. Incredibly, she agreed to my idea, and we all went in back of the garage, out of site from anyone. The guys were quiet waiting to see Sharon and I do our thing, whatever that was. There was some jostling for position, but I was to have the best. Sharon pulled her skirt and underpants down to her feet as I did the same with my pants and Jockeys. She leaned against a white ladder that accessed the roof and stuck out her tush for all of us to see. I leaned down back to back with her and we rubbed, just like old times. A couple of the older guys (12yo) asked Sharon if they could do it too when I was finished. Again she acquiesced, and when I finished my show, one of these almost-teens took out his BIG (compared to me) penis and first did exactly what I had done with Sharon, still leaning onto the ladder. Then we all watched as he turned around and pushed his shaft length-wise between Sharon's cheeks, pressing his whole body hard into her back, and quickly moving up and down. Sharon responded when he reached his hand around her hairless slit and we could all see her push and grind against him. By the expression on her face, I could tell that she liked it a lot. There was no real penetration. Just a mutual thing with an audience. And the audience was shell-shocked as the guy with maturity pulled away and yanked a couple of times to get off a measly couple of squirts as his body posed like a body-builder behind Sharon. Sharon saw and immediately left as she was pulling up her clothes.
After that I did not see Sharon for another four years. She went with another crowd. We just never ran into each other. Then, one Spring day, she walked into my yard as I was pitching the ball against the wall. I looked at her passing the trashcans near the alleyway as she made her way over to my place on the grass near an arboretum. She was wearing a tight dark grey sweater that was stretched tight over her now very big chest. I hardly recognized her. I don't remember what we said to one another at the time, but we didn't talk long before she returned to her house. I had been downright scared of her; she with these big weapons and body too close to me for comfort. For then, it was the end of our on and off meetings.
Thirty-some years later I met her in a restaurant not too far from where we 'rubbed' for the first time. To put it mildly, she was very happy to see me as she hugged me close in this very public place and introduced me to her friends. She had been dis-armed as her boobs now sagged a lot. I think that she wanted me to give her a call. But she just didn't do it for me anymore.