Treehouse Secrets

The detached single-family home with blue siding and white trim looked just as she remembered when she’d left a decade prior. Ian had decided to save some money by attending the local community college, while she had chosen San Diego State. 

Leaving her best friend behind hadn’t seemed like such a big deal at the time. They promised to visit and to call, but their efforts faded over time. She hadn’t seen him in eight years when he found her on Facebook. They had caught up with each other over Messenger and reminisced about the old days. But it wasn’t until Harley knew she needed to move back home to care for her father, that she considered seeing him again. 

Harley collected her belongings from her car and stepped out onto the pavement. Ian had mentioned he’d inherited his parent’s home and Harley was surprised to find a moment of sadness in their absence. She approached the front door and, with a steady hand, rang the doorbell.

Heavy footsteps came from behind the door before it was opened by a sandy-haired man. Ian had grown, even from their senior year of high school, standing at well over six feet. His green eyes twinkled from the setting sun and he grinned beneath his stubble, flashing her a pearly white smile.

“Hi!” he exclaimed.

Ian had always been handsome, but he was always such a boy. Standing before her now, though, he was all man. 

“Ian!” Harley rushed forward, wrapping her arms around his solid middle, squeezing him like a stuffed animal. Ian hugged in return, lifting her small frame slightly off the floor. She inhaled him; relishing in his familiar scent of Irish Spring and sandalwood cologne.

“It’s so good to see you, Har!” 

“You too,” she answered, her breath slow. “It’s been too damn long.” 

The pair released their embrace, stepping back to give each other a good once over. Ian wore a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans, appropriate for the warm weather outside. Harley hadn’t overdressed — she wore a red sundress, flip-flops, and black mascara. She’d left her brown locks down and straightened. Simple. This was her childhood friend, after all.

“Come on in,” Ian encouraged, waving her back through the house. The home still felt familiar, but Ian had done a hell of a job updating the interior. 

“Ian,” she said, hoping she sounded as impressed as she felt, “it’s beautiful in here!” 

He looked back over his shoulder, causing her stomach to somersault. “You think?” 

She nodded. “I was kind of thinking I’d step into a time machine in here.” 

Ian chuckled as they reached the kitchen. “Yeah, well, I’ve still got good taste.” 

Harley grinned and took a seat at the kitchen table situated next to a wide, sliding-screen door. The screen let soon-to-be summer air through the home; grass, earth, and someone barbequing. Childhood. 

Ian sat down next to her and rubbed her shoulder. “I’ve really missed you,” he said. 

A pang of guilt hit Harley square in the chest. Though they’d both lost touch, much of it was Harley’s fault. She’d rarely returned home, and when she had she'd never made time to see Ian. She was always busy with work, busy with a boyfriend, busy with her California life. But now that she was back, all of it seemed so silly. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I should’ve called more.” 

Ian placed his hand over hers, rubbing the back of her hand with his smooth thumb. “I should’ve too,” he said softly. “But I’m glad you’re here now.” 

Harley nodded, grinning back up at him. The pair chatted away as though no time had passed, laughing, joking, and poking fun at one another. So long ago it had really felt like friendly banter. But now, sitting beside a hunk of a man, Harley felt like they were flirting. Impossible. This was Ian. The same little boy who had helped her fix boo-boos, talked her through her first break-up, and even heard the gory details of her first period.

But as they spoke, Harley found excuses to brush up against his knees beneath the table. She touched his arm when he made her laugh. And every time their gazes connected, she felt like she was being turned upside down and inside out. 

Ian’s lips were pink and plump and for the first time since she’d known him, she wondered what they’d feel like against hers. His chest was wide, his shoulders strong, and even his dimples had grown deeper. His voice was somehow huskier than she’d remembered. It was like spending time with a stranger who knew all your secrets. 

As the sun began to set on the other side of Ian’s house, Harley took a moment to appreciate the view of his backyard. It was always the coolest yard — large, with a trampoline and hot tub. But Harley’s favorite part had always been the treehouse. It sat in the same tree, green around the edges as it had weathered with age. 

“I can’t believe you still have that thing,” Harley laughed, looking up at Ian who had gone to get them both a glass of water. 

“Oh god,” he laughed, following her gaze to the treehouse. “That thing is so old.” 

“We should go up.” The suggestion was wild, even for Harley, but after a moment’s hesitation, Ian looked back at her and nodded. 

“Okay,” he said, tilting his head. A small grin spread across his lips. Harley wiggled in her seat, trying to ignore the heat that spread between her thighs. 

Harley approached the screen door and slid it open effortlessly. She ran out into the yard, leaving her flip-flips on the small patch of concrete just outside the door. The treehouse ladder leaned lazily against the opening of the small structure. 

“Come on!” she called to Ian, who had just left his shoes behind too. For a moment, he looked just like the boy she remembered, with his arms out, airplaning to the treehouse behind her. She giggled as she scrambled up the ladder, feeling his weight behind her. 

The treehouse was a little dusty, but really no worse for wear on the inside. Remnants of their childhood still scattered the walls — magazine clippings and silly artwork. Harley approached the far wall and sure enough, there was a faded photograph of her and Ian still hanging from a single pin. 

“Oh, Ian,” she breathed, gently brushing the dust from the photograph. “Look at us!” 

She turned, pointing at the photo, but Ian had closed the space between them. Suddenly he was right beside her, so close she could hear every breath he took as his eyes trailed over the picture. And then, his eyes were on her, trailing over her face and features. Harley inhaled, trying to steady her breath. 

“Har,” Ian whispered, his arm brushing hers. “I…”

But she never heard what he’d wanted to say. Instead, she pushed up on her tip-toes and pressed her lips to his. 

Ian was warm and inviting, his lips moist and sweet, tinted with spearmint. He opened his lips to invite her in. Their tongues met in a frantic dance of lust, trailing over each other again and again, as though both could devour the other completely.

Harley felt the wall at her back as Ian leaned into her more, but she hardly minded. Kissing him was like finding the prize beneath the cereal bag, the unexpected pleasure she hadn’t realized was hidden for so long. She whimpered as he sucked on her bottom lip, teasing it between his teeth, his lips curling playfully.

As Ian pressed up against her small body, he pulled away to breathe, eyes hungry as they met hers. Her insides squirmed and before she could even take another break, his lips were on her cheek, her jaw, and then her neck. Pressed up against her belly was his hardening cock, hidden beneath his blue jeans. A flood of desire rushed through Harley, straight down her middle as she thought of what he might look like naked, about how his thick dick might taste in her mouth, about how he’d feel inside of her. 

And all at once, it was what she needed. To taste him. To be filled by him. To make up for lost time. As he trailed his lips down her neck, she pulled her fingers through his hair, wondering why the hell they’d never done this before. 

The treehouse gathered heat as they intertwined. Harley reached for her dress first, pulling it over her head in one swift movement to discard it on the floor. Ian pulled back, his arms stretched out on either side of her, to drink her in. His eyes widened as he let his gaze linger over her bronzed body. Harley wore a white bra and a lacy thong. 

“How the hell,” he breathed, meeting her eyes once more, “was all this hiding under there?” 

Harley smiled coyly, biting her bottom lip. “You never cared to look.” 

Reaching for his shirt, he allowed her to pull it up and over him, revealing his chiseled chest, tufts of chest hair scattered between his nipples. He grinned at her, then kissed her again, and even beneath the denim, she knew his cock needed to be freed. 

“Pants,” Harley breathed into Ian’s mouth. “Please.” 

“You sure?” he answered, his lips hovering just over hers. 

“Oh yes.” 

He did as he was told, unbuttoning his pants and letting them fall to the floor. He wore black boxers, but Harley couldn’t be bothered. She bent to her knees, trailing her lips down the center of Ian’s chest, down to the elastic band of his boxers. She let her tongue trace the indent of the garment, inhaling the salty sweetness of what she knew lay beneath the fabric. 

“Oh, Har.” Ian leaned his head back, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, as Harley reached into the opening in his underwear and pulled out his thick, throbbing cock. 

She licked first, tasting his head before she took him into her mouth. Slowly she edged her mouth closer to the base of his shaft, moving up and down to wet his entire dick until she gagged. His musk filled her nostrils until her eyes watered and he began to thrust himself into her mouth. 

Harley maintained a rhythm, getting her hands slick with spit as she worked his cock. Ian responded by thrusting his own hips, moaning each time she tugged just a little harder. His hands found their way to Harley’s hair, threading between her strands and gripping tightly as he guided her towards what felt good. 

“Har,” he moaned as she looked up at him, her mouth filled with his dick. “My turn.” 

Harley grinned wickedly, letting his cock pop free from her mouth. She stood, every inch of her on fire as she anticipated what else was to come. Ian bent down so he was level with her breasts, then kissed between them, his hands fumbling with her bra clasp. He released it effortlessly, letting it fall to the floor in the heap with their other clothes. 

Although it was warm in the treehouse, Harley’s nipples still stood at attention, eager to feel Ian’s warm mouth and hands. He wasted no time appreciating her tits, tugging at her nipples and teasing them with the tip of his tongue. Then, with handfuls of her breasts, he dipped his head downward, kissing and licking until he reached the band of her thong. 

He took his time there, inhaling her and leaving kisses on each thigh, tugging on her flimsy underwear with his teeth. Harley took his lead and pulled them off, discarding them with the rest of her clothes. Now fully naked, Harley’s anticipation bundled in her belly. She wanted — no, needed to be touched. 

Ian pressed his cheek up against her leg, the heat of his mouth making her quiver. Finally, his tongue met the edge of her folds. He explored her timidly at first, with slow laps up and down her pussy, as though he were devouring every drop of pleasure. Harley tried to grab onto the walls for support but found none. Her knees threatened to buckle as Ian found her delicious center, flicking her pleasure point with his tongue. The combination of his wet, warm tongue and the friction on her clit made her release a moan, and she arched her back so that he was forced to fully take her mound in his mouth. 

The bundle of nerves just below her belly button lit up, slowly building pleasure that electrified every inch of her skin. Ian never let up, his rhythm steady; good God, he was good. And although somehow she managed to keep her knees from giving out, Harley felt her orgasm build, build, build, and then finally, explode. 

She swore she could see stars as her body shook. She thrust and came all over Ian’s face and he moaned which turned her on even more as he came up for air, his face drenched in her juices. He smiled at her, but Harley felt nearly animalistic as she grasped his face and brought his lips to her again, tasting both his cock and her own wet, juices, but not caring. 

And suddenly, they were on the floor and Ian’s body hovered over hers like a warm blanket, his dripping cock leaving a trail just below her belly button. Harley broke away from Ian’s lips to look down, shifting her tailbone so that her pussy was wide open for Ian. 

He followed her gaze, his face flushed pink, and looked to Harley for permission. “I’m on the pill,” she managed to whisper between her deep breathing, not wanting to take them out of the moment, knowing she trusted him despite their time apart. All at once, Ian positioned himself and pressed into Harley’s body gently. 

The head of his cock opened her gloriously, filling an emptiness she hadn’t even realized was there. He was warm and thick, positively perfect for her aching cunt. He pushed up again, this time with a deep moan which made Harley tense in pleasure. She moved her muscles, feeling him inside of her, aware of his every tendon, the way his eyes moved over her, the remnants of her desire drying on his mouth. 

Finally, he was inside of her to the hilt, filling her completely, his arms holding his body over hers. Harley tried to see straight, to concentrate on Ian’s face, to remember every sensation so she could replay it over and over later. But then Ian began to pull out and push back in, and Harley lost all sense or reason. 

“Fuck,” he hissed as he slowly fucked her. “You feel incredible.” He didn’t rush it. He plunged himself in and out of her in a deliberate sort of way, as though he was relishing every sensation. Slow was good, Harley knew that, but she was so turned on, she wanted to take control. Playfully, she pushed her arms up towards his shoulders, forcing him away from her. 

His cock left her body, springing right back into action, covered in her wetness. Harley gently guided Ian down to the treehouse floor, where he lay obediently, his grin matching her own. Harley swung her leg over him and closed her eyes as she inched herself down on his dick. He fit in all the right places, and as she reached the base of his shaft, she was able to rub herself against him to stimulate her clit. 

“Holy fuck,” Ian said slowly, lifting his head to watch Harley as she began to bounce up and down. Her knees strained as she squatted over him, giving him a spectacular side view of her ass and tits bouncing, but she ignored even the harsh wood beneath her feet to favor just how good he felt inside of her. 

Ian had started to get hungrier, his hands now over her breasts, squeezing her nipples as he seemed to try and catch his breath as she rode him. Finally, he gripped her waist and she allowed him to lead, holding her in place as he pushed himself up inside of her. His pace quickened and his grunts got closer together. Sweat beaded at his hairline. He must be getting close. 

“Come on,” Harley breathed, getting off. She turned and got to her knees, baring her ass for him, hands on each of her cheeks as she spread herself for him. “Fuck me,” she pleaded. 

Ian’s eyes stayed glued to her rear, and he guided his cock straight into her dripping pussy. The sensation forced a bubble in her belly that felt like it could push her over into orgasm. He quickly thrust inside of her, his rhythm changing every second. Faster, harder, and with thick slapping noises that echoed through the small space, Harley felt herself, again, on the brink of cumming. 

Ian was there too and in a final act of desperation, Harley brought her own fingers to her clit to bring herself to orgasm, just as Ian pulled himself out of her body. She came, again, her body shuddering with pleasure as Ian let out a moan of his own.  Harley looked over her shoulder at her lover, his cock gripped in his hands as he released milky ropes of cum across her ass, his hips thrusting with the force of his orgasm.

With wide eyes, he sat back on his heels, looking at Harley, who was recovering from her own spasms. Ian reached his arms out, and Harley met them with her own, hugging Ian around the middle as she had when she’d first arrived, leaning up against his muscular chest, nuzzling her head into the crook of his arm. 

“Damn,” Ian said, his breath still unsteady. “That was…” 

“A long time coming?” Harley suggested. 

“You could say that.”