2025-09-25, 08:22 PM
Part 1
I don't know about you, but I enjoy these stories in nifty.org, and I hope they continue to print these stories and maintain the archive, because I like new stories, and I get a kick out of finding my own stories in the archives. I may never make a dime as a writer, but sometimes you do it just for the fun. But maintaining these archives, and this website, costs money. If you are enjoying these stories enough to read them, and some of you read MANY of them, please make a donation using the link on the main page. It is really quick, and you can get the pleasure of seeing your name in the list of recent donors. Do it for the New Year, and do it any time you really get off on a great story. Now, back to the reason you came here...
Baby Boomers' Dream
Many of the stories in Nifty are fiction. People are very clear that they did not actually do those things for real, maybe because they don't want to be prosecuted, but probably because the events were from the fertile imaginations. I myself probably embellished those stories I wrote about Santa Claus, and Santa's early roots. But this time I am serious; this is real, this really happened. But I suspect you will believe my imaginative leaps of the other stories before you will believe this.
I am old enough that I clearly remember the Eisenhower years, and young enough that I remember the Kennedy election, not because I actually knew anything about politics, but because I went to a Catholic School with real nuns teaching, and John Kennedy, the first Catholic to be elected president, was a local favorite, They probably did not know about the Marilyn Monroe thing then, or the other trysts.
But the shocking thing is, not that I was there, but I was there, again. I lived through the era, and into my senior citizen adulthood. The night I breathed what seemed to be my last breath was peaceful enough. I am not such an arrogant and narcissistic person that I would ever had composed/sung "I did it my way", with regrets too few to mention. I had regrets, lots of things I did that were not very nice to people I should have been nicer to, but more, much more than this, I regretted how I limited my youth in ways that deprived me of good times, that made me a very rule-abiding person, albeit kind of lazy, when in my later years I realized I squandered opportunity. I knew many things I should have done differently, but hey, you only go around once, and I eventually became a better person and would be missed by those I loved.
Except, when I breathed my last, and went into the that quiet slumber, I woke up again, only I woke up again as a 10 year old, and I was back in my parents' house in my bedroom, and Kennedy was running for president! I shared a room with my brother, and he was asleep in the next bed. I recognized everything around me. My memory was not perfect, I was not sure what my teacher's name was, and which classroom I would go to, but I knew exactly where I was, who I was, and who my family were.
Confusing? Yeah. Was I going to live the same live over, or was I going to change little things that would somehow change the big things, like the butterfly's wing in China in that book about Chaos Theory? A head's up, as time went on I started to forget some of the details of the life I had already lived, and don't know if everything went the same, but for the most part my life was not very different than I remembered, but I was different. I was better. I had more fun, I made better decisions about managing my life and being nicer to my siblings. I improved, but most importantly, to the readers of Nifty, I lived to enjoy the sex life that I had not delved into in my early "good Catholic boy of the 50s/60s". Life is good, I made sure of that. I was a 10 year old boy, with the powerful brain of knowledge of a fully developed adult, and the lessons learned from the first time around. Does everyone do this? Is this what everyone does but somehow my memory banks were not scrubbed, and everyone else's memory is removed, and we all live the same life until we get it right? Damned If I know the answers, but I will share with you how I approached this life, focusing on how I learned to be a sexually active 10 year old, which set my up for a life of much improved sexual prowess, better skills, better techniques, better stamina, and made me a much better lover. My guess is you will only find the pre-teens, maybe up to 13 or 14 years, interesting. After that I think my life became pretty normal, although I was still more sexually active through my teens on this second go around, than I was the first time. Essentially I was a monk the first time, but this time I have every intention of using my advanced insights to have a great deal more fun.
Where to begin?
If I was 10 (I still wasn't sure of the exact date), my older sister Janice was 12. My brother Gary was 8, my younger sister Allison was 5. We all got along pretty well, and Janice was a really nice big sister to Allison despite the age difference. I had to know if I could get horny and hard. Where was I in my sexual development? I decided to experiment with Allison because she was pretty naive. Dad had gone to work early, Mom was in the kitchen. I slipped into Allison's room, it was still early.
"Hey kid, almost time to get up for breakfast, wakey wakey," even though she did not go to school yet. She kind of woke up and I continued, "Hey kid, look what I can do!", and I dropped my pajama bottoms and wiggled by little uncut cocklet Not much was happening and she looked at me strangely. I needed help. "Oops, it's not happening, wiggle it around with your fingers for me, please," Allison looked at me strangely but she was fond of me and I was generally good to her, so she did it. Nudity was never common in our home. I never saw my sisters naked (except when Allison was in diapers) and they did not see me naked, but she was still to young to have been told about this rule, so she didn't make a big deal. She held my cock and played with it, and YES, it started to grow, and grow some more, and get really stiff. And it felt good. Allison started to laugh at the funny thing happening and she kept playing with it, as 5 year old kids will do. By this time my foreskin was no longer covering my penis, and the head was like a little sucker on a stick. "Hey, I have an idea, how about you suck on it like a lollypop!", she did. I couldn't believe this worked, but this little kid was playing with, and now sucking on, my stiff little cock, and she thought it was a great laugh! After a few minutes, I got a really good feeling and started to get like a shiver and my muscles getting tight and shaky. Yes, I was getting an orgasm, I just wasn't producing sperm yet and so I didn't shoot anything. I quivered and got real sensitive and I had to make her stop. This was the best science experiment of my life, and my very first orgasm. In my previous life I didn't have one of these until my first wet dream at about 13 years of age. Now, how to make sure she didn't talk.
"Allison, we just did something kids are not supposed to do, and if Mom finds out she will be angry with you and you will be in trouble. I don't want that to happen, so I promise I will never tell, and in fact, I will do something I am not supposed to do also, so that we are even and we will keep each other's secret, OK?", she nodded ,but wondered why she wasn't supposed to do that. I explained the when she started going to church they would tell her about stuff like that, but we would never tell anyone. That was good enough. So, what was my transgression going to be? Well, duh, I wanted to see a real pussy up close and explore it. I slipped her pajamas and panties off and got to look up close and personal. "Allison, your little thing is adorable. It is so pretty, and pink, and smooth."
"Yes, that is my front pocket, and this is my back pocket," she said as she rolled over and thrust her bum in the air. This was so cool, she was clean and pink, with her tiny little pussy (front pocket) incredibly beautiful, and her cute little ass (back pocket) with her cute puckered brownie opening in the middle. I couldn't help myself. I rolled her onto her back again and starting kissing and licking her slit and her tiny vulva. There was the start of a tiny clitoris there, so I gave it appropriate attention as well. I slathered her with kisses and licks, and gentle suction and she started to have a really strange reaction. She closed her eyes and leaned back, then opened her eyes and smiled and seemed really happy. After a while I rolled her over and started working on her adorable butt. I kissed and drooled, and went down into her vagina again. I was getting horny again, and stiff, so I drooled and slobbered a lot, then I slid up so I was lying behind her and my stiff little cocklet stuck in between her cheeks and poked all the way to the base of her vagina. I was not penetrating her, after all, she is only 5 year old, but I was getting the great feeling of my cock sliding back and forth in a warm and wet environment, and she was feeling my rigid member sliding across the sensitive parts of her vagina, and in between her bum cheeks. She liked it, and I was in heaven. I quivered again after a few minutes, and also realized I needed to get dressed and downstairs for breakfast and school.
"Remember, we have to keep this a secret or you will get into lots of trouble, and I don't want Mom to punish you, OK?" She smiled, our secret was safe.
Back in School:
Some people think school is boring, that they teach stupid stuff and learning it requires memorizing and repeating things. Keep in mind that I have already earned a PhD in a science field, and have not forgotten my basics. I was better educated than any of the nuns in this Catholic elementary school, but now my whole life had become an experiment, and school was simply another fertile field to figure stuff out. You know what I noticed first? Girls in the fifth grade are not very conscious of how often they display their panties. Also, nuns are not very bright for the most part and do not know what is going on behind their backs, and their headpieces, veils, actually reduce their peripheral vision, and they have to turn way around to look behind themselves, so being sneaky is fairly easy. Now, I have a reputation at this school. I am a straight A student, and good boy, and I go to mass often, frequently with my mother on school days before breakfast. Because of this, the teachers intuitively trust me, the tougher boys do not much care for me, and this translates kind of with the girls as well. The "good girls" who get A's might have a crush on me, the girls that I am now interested in thing I am a bit of a "fink" (the common word of that era), and I don't really have a lot of friends. What can I do to change things?
I was told to write the solution to an arithmetic problem on the chalkboard at the front, and while I was doing this the Sister was explaining it to the class. I was therefore behind her, and to me the problem was so trivial I wrote it faster than she could explain it, and I turned around. The girls were not so aware of how their knees were apart and I was looking at a sea of white cotton panties under the desks. The height of the desks prevented kids from crossing their legs, and most kids had their feet well apart. Many of the girls were still wearing their uniform jumpers from last year, many kids in this community could not afford new clothes every time they outgrew what they had, and because this was a strongly Catholic neighborhood in the 50's-60's, meaning no birth control, families had lots of kids and tight budgets. Those jumpers were quite short, and lots of times underwear was well worn and the elastic around the edge was worn and slack. Some girls had their panties kind of twisted, and were actually exposing half a cunt from the view in the front of the class. This was interesting, and I was getting hard. The Sister talked on. Being a mature adult in a kid's body, I decided to throw caution to the winds, turned toward the chalkboard and unzipped my pants, pulled it out, and turned back toward the class...with my stiffie sticking straight out and pointing at them. The kids who were looking at me were stunned (lots of kids were not paying a bit of attention and missed it), and started giggling. I quickly turned back and stuffed myself in before the teacher asked what was so funny, but when she looked at me, I was still putting the finishing touches on the problem. What I really wanted was to see what kids came up to me at recess and to see what might develop.
I had done something I would never have thought of doing the first time around. I had scoped out the girls with short skirts and loose underwear, and exposed my own hardon to the class. Would this lead to something? Well, yeah. It did.
At recess, Nancy came up to me. Nancy was a good kid, not the teacher's pet kind of good, but the kids liked her. She was a year older because she had been kept back for poor grades once, and she was not the best student by a long shot. She was not unusually pretty, but kind of cute. Ethnically you could tell she was Italian with the coloring and accent from immigrant grandparents, and parents who still had Italian accents. She was not a troublemaker by any means, but she was not a "goody two shoes" at all. I frequently wondered why I never pursued her in my previous life, but in truth, I was a bit of a nurd. I wanted to change that now. Nancy said that was a pretty daring thing I had done in class, she was surprised. I said I guess I was just showing I was daring, more daring than she is. She didn't like my putting her down, but I said, hey, I showed mine, I didn't see her doing that. "Is that so, well how about when I ask to leave the room to use the bathroom, you meet me in the girls' lavatory, and we'll see who's got nerve,". Oh, this was going to be cool.
The rule, unless it was an emergency, only one boy at a time, and one girl at a time, could take the bathroom pass. At this grade the Sisters were not even thinking that boys and girls would meet up, in fact Nancy had violated the rules by talking to me at recess because the schoolyard was divided and boys and girls were separate.
When Nancy asked to use the bathroom, the nun said she could. When I asked right after, my reputation worked in my favor, and Sister did not hesitate to give me permission. I knew all this classwork anyway. I headed straight to the girls' lavatory.
I don't know about you, but I enjoy these stories in nifty.org, and I hope they continue to print these stories and maintain the archive, because I like new stories, and I get a kick out of finding my own stories in the archives. I may never make a dime as a writer, but sometimes you do it just for the fun. But maintaining these archives, and this website, costs money. If you are enjoying these stories enough to read them, and some of you read MANY of them, please make a donation using the link on the main page. It is really quick, and you can get the pleasure of seeing your name in the list of recent donors. Do it for the New Year, and do it any time you really get off on a great story. Now, back to the reason you came here...
Baby Boomers' Dream
Many of the stories in Nifty are fiction. People are very clear that they did not actually do those things for real, maybe because they don't want to be prosecuted, but probably because the events were from the fertile imaginations. I myself probably embellished those stories I wrote about Santa Claus, and Santa's early roots. But this time I am serious; this is real, this really happened. But I suspect you will believe my imaginative leaps of the other stories before you will believe this.
I am old enough that I clearly remember the Eisenhower years, and young enough that I remember the Kennedy election, not because I actually knew anything about politics, but because I went to a Catholic School with real nuns teaching, and John Kennedy, the first Catholic to be elected president, was a local favorite, They probably did not know about the Marilyn Monroe thing then, or the other trysts.
But the shocking thing is, not that I was there, but I was there, again. I lived through the era, and into my senior citizen adulthood. The night I breathed what seemed to be my last breath was peaceful enough. I am not such an arrogant and narcissistic person that I would ever had composed/sung "I did it my way", with regrets too few to mention. I had regrets, lots of things I did that were not very nice to people I should have been nicer to, but more, much more than this, I regretted how I limited my youth in ways that deprived me of good times, that made me a very rule-abiding person, albeit kind of lazy, when in my later years I realized I squandered opportunity. I knew many things I should have done differently, but hey, you only go around once, and I eventually became a better person and would be missed by those I loved.
Except, when I breathed my last, and went into the that quiet slumber, I woke up again, only I woke up again as a 10 year old, and I was back in my parents' house in my bedroom, and Kennedy was running for president! I shared a room with my brother, and he was asleep in the next bed. I recognized everything around me. My memory was not perfect, I was not sure what my teacher's name was, and which classroom I would go to, but I knew exactly where I was, who I was, and who my family were.
Confusing? Yeah. Was I going to live the same live over, or was I going to change little things that would somehow change the big things, like the butterfly's wing in China in that book about Chaos Theory? A head's up, as time went on I started to forget some of the details of the life I had already lived, and don't know if everything went the same, but for the most part my life was not very different than I remembered, but I was different. I was better. I had more fun, I made better decisions about managing my life and being nicer to my siblings. I improved, but most importantly, to the readers of Nifty, I lived to enjoy the sex life that I had not delved into in my early "good Catholic boy of the 50s/60s". Life is good, I made sure of that. I was a 10 year old boy, with the powerful brain of knowledge of a fully developed adult, and the lessons learned from the first time around. Does everyone do this? Is this what everyone does but somehow my memory banks were not scrubbed, and everyone else's memory is removed, and we all live the same life until we get it right? Damned If I know the answers, but I will share with you how I approached this life, focusing on how I learned to be a sexually active 10 year old, which set my up for a life of much improved sexual prowess, better skills, better techniques, better stamina, and made me a much better lover. My guess is you will only find the pre-teens, maybe up to 13 or 14 years, interesting. After that I think my life became pretty normal, although I was still more sexually active through my teens on this second go around, than I was the first time. Essentially I was a monk the first time, but this time I have every intention of using my advanced insights to have a great deal more fun.
Where to begin?
If I was 10 (I still wasn't sure of the exact date), my older sister Janice was 12. My brother Gary was 8, my younger sister Allison was 5. We all got along pretty well, and Janice was a really nice big sister to Allison despite the age difference. I had to know if I could get horny and hard. Where was I in my sexual development? I decided to experiment with Allison because she was pretty naive. Dad had gone to work early, Mom was in the kitchen. I slipped into Allison's room, it was still early.
"Hey kid, almost time to get up for breakfast, wakey wakey," even though she did not go to school yet. She kind of woke up and I continued, "Hey kid, look what I can do!", and I dropped my pajama bottoms and wiggled by little uncut cocklet Not much was happening and she looked at me strangely. I needed help. "Oops, it's not happening, wiggle it around with your fingers for me, please," Allison looked at me strangely but she was fond of me and I was generally good to her, so she did it. Nudity was never common in our home. I never saw my sisters naked (except when Allison was in diapers) and they did not see me naked, but she was still to young to have been told about this rule, so she didn't make a big deal. She held my cock and played with it, and YES, it started to grow, and grow some more, and get really stiff. And it felt good. Allison started to laugh at the funny thing happening and she kept playing with it, as 5 year old kids will do. By this time my foreskin was no longer covering my penis, and the head was like a little sucker on a stick. "Hey, I have an idea, how about you suck on it like a lollypop!", she did. I couldn't believe this worked, but this little kid was playing with, and now sucking on, my stiff little cock, and she thought it was a great laugh! After a few minutes, I got a really good feeling and started to get like a shiver and my muscles getting tight and shaky. Yes, I was getting an orgasm, I just wasn't producing sperm yet and so I didn't shoot anything. I quivered and got real sensitive and I had to make her stop. This was the best science experiment of my life, and my very first orgasm. In my previous life I didn't have one of these until my first wet dream at about 13 years of age. Now, how to make sure she didn't talk.
"Allison, we just did something kids are not supposed to do, and if Mom finds out she will be angry with you and you will be in trouble. I don't want that to happen, so I promise I will never tell, and in fact, I will do something I am not supposed to do also, so that we are even and we will keep each other's secret, OK?", she nodded ,but wondered why she wasn't supposed to do that. I explained the when she started going to church they would tell her about stuff like that, but we would never tell anyone. That was good enough. So, what was my transgression going to be? Well, duh, I wanted to see a real pussy up close and explore it. I slipped her pajamas and panties off and got to look up close and personal. "Allison, your little thing is adorable. It is so pretty, and pink, and smooth."
"Yes, that is my front pocket, and this is my back pocket," she said as she rolled over and thrust her bum in the air. This was so cool, she was clean and pink, with her tiny little pussy (front pocket) incredibly beautiful, and her cute little ass (back pocket) with her cute puckered brownie opening in the middle. I couldn't help myself. I rolled her onto her back again and starting kissing and licking her slit and her tiny vulva. There was the start of a tiny clitoris there, so I gave it appropriate attention as well. I slathered her with kisses and licks, and gentle suction and she started to have a really strange reaction. She closed her eyes and leaned back, then opened her eyes and smiled and seemed really happy. After a while I rolled her over and started working on her adorable butt. I kissed and drooled, and went down into her vagina again. I was getting horny again, and stiff, so I drooled and slobbered a lot, then I slid up so I was lying behind her and my stiff little cocklet stuck in between her cheeks and poked all the way to the base of her vagina. I was not penetrating her, after all, she is only 5 year old, but I was getting the great feeling of my cock sliding back and forth in a warm and wet environment, and she was feeling my rigid member sliding across the sensitive parts of her vagina, and in between her bum cheeks. She liked it, and I was in heaven. I quivered again after a few minutes, and also realized I needed to get dressed and downstairs for breakfast and school.
"Remember, we have to keep this a secret or you will get into lots of trouble, and I don't want Mom to punish you, OK?" She smiled, our secret was safe.
Back in School:
Some people think school is boring, that they teach stupid stuff and learning it requires memorizing and repeating things. Keep in mind that I have already earned a PhD in a science field, and have not forgotten my basics. I was better educated than any of the nuns in this Catholic elementary school, but now my whole life had become an experiment, and school was simply another fertile field to figure stuff out. You know what I noticed first? Girls in the fifth grade are not very conscious of how often they display their panties. Also, nuns are not very bright for the most part and do not know what is going on behind their backs, and their headpieces, veils, actually reduce their peripheral vision, and they have to turn way around to look behind themselves, so being sneaky is fairly easy. Now, I have a reputation at this school. I am a straight A student, and good boy, and I go to mass often, frequently with my mother on school days before breakfast. Because of this, the teachers intuitively trust me, the tougher boys do not much care for me, and this translates kind of with the girls as well. The "good girls" who get A's might have a crush on me, the girls that I am now interested in thing I am a bit of a "fink" (the common word of that era), and I don't really have a lot of friends. What can I do to change things?
I was told to write the solution to an arithmetic problem on the chalkboard at the front, and while I was doing this the Sister was explaining it to the class. I was therefore behind her, and to me the problem was so trivial I wrote it faster than she could explain it, and I turned around. The girls were not so aware of how their knees were apart and I was looking at a sea of white cotton panties under the desks. The height of the desks prevented kids from crossing their legs, and most kids had their feet well apart. Many of the girls were still wearing their uniform jumpers from last year, many kids in this community could not afford new clothes every time they outgrew what they had, and because this was a strongly Catholic neighborhood in the 50's-60's, meaning no birth control, families had lots of kids and tight budgets. Those jumpers were quite short, and lots of times underwear was well worn and the elastic around the edge was worn and slack. Some girls had their panties kind of twisted, and were actually exposing half a cunt from the view in the front of the class. This was interesting, and I was getting hard. The Sister talked on. Being a mature adult in a kid's body, I decided to throw caution to the winds, turned toward the chalkboard and unzipped my pants, pulled it out, and turned back toward the class...with my stiffie sticking straight out and pointing at them. The kids who were looking at me were stunned (lots of kids were not paying a bit of attention and missed it), and started giggling. I quickly turned back and stuffed myself in before the teacher asked what was so funny, but when she looked at me, I was still putting the finishing touches on the problem. What I really wanted was to see what kids came up to me at recess and to see what might develop.
I had done something I would never have thought of doing the first time around. I had scoped out the girls with short skirts and loose underwear, and exposed my own hardon to the class. Would this lead to something? Well, yeah. It did.
At recess, Nancy came up to me. Nancy was a good kid, not the teacher's pet kind of good, but the kids liked her. She was a year older because she had been kept back for poor grades once, and she was not the best student by a long shot. She was not unusually pretty, but kind of cute. Ethnically you could tell she was Italian with the coloring and accent from immigrant grandparents, and parents who still had Italian accents. She was not a troublemaker by any means, but she was not a "goody two shoes" at all. I frequently wondered why I never pursued her in my previous life, but in truth, I was a bit of a nurd. I wanted to change that now. Nancy said that was a pretty daring thing I had done in class, she was surprised. I said I guess I was just showing I was daring, more daring than she is. She didn't like my putting her down, but I said, hey, I showed mine, I didn't see her doing that. "Is that so, well how about when I ask to leave the room to use the bathroom, you meet me in the girls' lavatory, and we'll see who's got nerve,". Oh, this was going to be cool.
The rule, unless it was an emergency, only one boy at a time, and one girl at a time, could take the bathroom pass. At this grade the Sisters were not even thinking that boys and girls would meet up, in fact Nancy had violated the rules by talking to me at recess because the schoolyard was divided and boys and girls were separate.
When Nancy asked to use the bathroom, the nun said she could. When I asked right after, my reputation worked in my favor, and Sister did not hesitate to give me permission. I knew all this classwork anyway. I headed straight to the girls' lavatory.