With thanks to the founding fathers and the U.S. Constitution

The time between childhood and adulthood, often called adolescence, is a
difficult time.  I found myself wandering that in between time during the Summer
of my 12th year.  Too old to build sand castles but too young to spend the day,
hanging out at the beach.  I would spend most afternoons delivering newspapers so
that I could buy my first surfboard but many mornings were spent pretending to be
Peter Pan, Davy Crockett or Zorro; living out my fantasies in the neighborhood
backyards.  It was in one of the most scary backyards in the neighborhood, that I
found myself on that Summer morning when I first saw Elsa naked.  I had climbed
up into a tree in her backyard; well, this tree wasn't really in her backyard, it
just hung over her backyard.  I didn't know anyone who had ever been in her
backyard.  I didn't know anyone who had ever been in her house.

This very large tree shaded most of her backyard.  The yard was overgrown and not
well kept.  In some places the grass was waist high, well, it appeared waist
high.  Nobody had ever measured it.  Anyway, I was in the tree.  She appeared in
what I guessed was her bedroom window.  She didn't have a stitch of clothing on. 
I was about 20 to 25 feet from the window and about eight feet above the sill.  I
could look down into the room and see everything, her tits, her ass and her pussy
- she had plenty of hair on it.  My dad says they "escaped from Eastern Europe
and the Russians."  They speak English with a strange accent and the daughter,
Elsa, appears to be about fifteen, maybe sixteen years old.  She doesn't go to
any school that any of us in the neighborhood know about.  She leaves real early
every morning, about six-thirty and doesn't get back until late at night.

I have not moved a muscle since she appeared in the window.  She is combing her
long dark hair.  I have got a great view of the side of her breast.  The nipple
is hard in the cool air of the morning.  Every other stroke or so I can see the
other breast and see that it's nipple is also hard. Her lower stomach is covered
with a pelt of dark, curly hair.  The belly button above her pubic triangle is a
deep indentation in her stomach.  Her rear end is very prominent like the halves
of a large fruit and looked so smooth.  I was disappointed when she turned her
ass away from me and gave me a full frontal view of her lovely nakedness.  As I
scanned my eyes from her dark pubic patch to her apple size breasts and nipples I
noticed that she had stopped combing her hair and was staring right at me.

We were frozen, staring at each other, neither of us moving.  She finally breaks
eye contact and closes the drapes.  To say I was disappointed is an
understatement.  The crotch of my jeans were tented with my desire - a real
morning boner, hard as stone and full of the cream that often drenches my shorts
during the night.  I let my hardon subside and then climb down to the ground.

For the next several days I can think about nothing but Elsa.  Every morning, I'm
in the tree in her back yard but her drapes always remain closed. I imagine what
she looked like and always get a hardon, straining against my jeans.  Pure lust
made me drop into her back yard.  It was so easy, sneaking up to her window.  I
pushed up and the window opened.  Now this is real secret agent shit.  I listen
for a long time, my hands shaking.  There is not the slightest sound coming from
her room.  I part the drapes.  Her room is dark.

In the light coming from where I'm standing, I can make out her bed.  The sheets
are rumpled.  The bed has not been made.  To the right of the bed is a dresser
and I can see one of her bras hanging from an open drawer.  I'm in the room and
moving toward the dresser before I know it.  I have the bra in my hand; my other
hand is in the drawer pulling out a pair of her panties.  They are soft and
white.  I put the panties to my nose - they are clean.

The arm that grabs me around the waist is much stronger than I am.  I struggle
but don't make a sound.  The man who has me is about my parent's age. He doesn't
let me down but walks out of the room with me.  We are in a hall way going toward
the front of the house.  The entire house is dark.  I dropped the panties and
bra.  With his free hand he opens the door to what I figure is the cellar and
down we go.  At the bottom he flicks on the light switch and throws me into a
stuffed chair.

I look around the room and find the walls are covered with flags and pictures -
more pictures than flags.  He tells me something in a language I don't
understand.  I shake my head back and forth.  He repeats himself, louder.  I
stand.  He pushes me back into the chair.  He climbs the stairs and closes the
door.  I get up and climb the stairs.  The door is locked.  I descend back down
the stairs and look at some of the pictures.  All of the men in the pictures are
in uniform - some dark black, some brown.  They are all wearing  swastika arm
bands.  One of the large flags on the wall is a white swastika in a black ball on
a red background.  I was sure that Adolph Hitler was in some of the pictures.

When he returned he was wearing his uniform.  All black with a hat and
everything.  The swastika arm band was the only color he wore.  I moved to the
corner of the basement and waited for him to descend but he didn't.  He spoke to
me and then I could hear the sounds of people in the house - women.  He was gone
and the door remained open.  I raced up the stairs and down the hall into Elsa's
room.  I closed the door behind me and stood with my back to it, panting.  Elsa
was standing in the middle of the room staring at me.  I broke for the window,
whipped the drapes aside and dove head first through the opening.

I rolled around on the grass for a couple or rolls, like you see in the movies
and then I was up racing through the overgrown yard toward the back fence.  The
bushes were pulling at my clothes and then I was up on fence throwing myself over
into the yard behind them.  I must have run for five minutes straight and didn't
stop until I was in one of my most secret hiding places.  I was panting, could
hardly catch my breath but it was worth it.  In my clenched right hand I held
Elsa's bra and panties that I had scooped up running down the hall as I escaped
from the cellar.  What a story this is going to make !!