All was chaos in the house. With the forth of July conveniently occurring on a Thursday this year, those that could stretch the holiday into an extra-long weekend did so. Thus Chris and Sandy, a modern couple with demanding jobs, chose to leave their teenage children home to fend for themselves and spend four days backpacking in the woods. Naturally, this occasioned some acerbic comments from Melissa – age 13 – and Carter – age 15 – concerning the decrepitude of their aging parents and doubts as to their ability to survive without Cable, Internet and Fast Food.

The doubts were quickly stifled when Chris and Sandy threatened to make them come along and observe firsthand how well their parents survived in the woods. All knew this was a meaningless threat as Chris and Sandy had some romantic plans for the tent, Melissa was off with one of her girlfriends to a luxury summer home by the lake and Carter had unspecified but solitary plans of his own. Chris and Sandy had surrendered to the obvious, teenagers just were not all that interested in family activities.

Chris and Sandy

Robert Burns, the poet, may not have been the first to observe The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men / Gang aft agley. but the fellow was dead on. The weather report being fair, warm and no rain for the next week, Chris and Sandy made the mistake of believing it. In the name of saving weight, they did not pack any foul weather gear. Cutting out of work a bit early on Wednesday, the first night was lovely, clear skies and brilliant stars. The tent was set up at the head of the trail and after a good supper they adjourned to the tent for some rather energetic sex. No kids, no neighbors, no problem.

They took it slow and appreciated the scenery for the next two days, reliving their youth (before they had children) with the freedom of the woods. Friday evening found them camped by a lovely clear river with a gentle sloping bank. The fish co-operated and practically jumped into the pan for dinner. They frolicked naked in the water and then slept the exhausted sleep of two middle-aged people who didn't get all that much exercise from day-to-day.

Saturday dawned ominously cloudy. Remember the forewarning about not trusting the weatherman? Those clouds were awful dark. Opting for a quick breakfast, they packed up and headed down the trail. They were halfway up a rather steep hillside by ten that morning when the skies opened up. Within minutes they were soaked. Not too much later their unprotected sleeping bags started to get damned heavy as the rain soaked in. Before they got to the crest of the hill the trail turned to mud and both of our intrepid backpackers slipped and were covered in gooey, sticky mud. By the time the trail crossed a road they were miserable and freezing.

It took far too much time before anyone drove by, but a kind gentleman in a pickup truck let them climb in the bed and took them to the parking lot for their car. It was hard to appreciate that the continued rain washed enough mud off of their clothes that they weren't going to permanently ruin the upholstery in their Honda.

Which is why Chris and Sandy arrived home a day early.

Melissa

Excerpts from Melissa's vacation journal:
Wednesday, July 3

Jeez, what a day! I still can't believe that the old folks let me spend the entire vacation with Kiera's family. I mean, we always had to do the family routine for holidays. As if I wanted to spend the day with Carter bugging me and Mom complaining about my swimsuit.

Speaking of swimsuits, I think Mom must have blown a gasket or something because she actually approved of me wearing a new bikini for the forth. I'm thirteen years old already! OK, so I could use a little more up top to fill out a bikini, but there's enough there to interest someone like Taylor.

Maybe that's why Mom gets exercised about me in a bikini. Of course, if she saw Kiera's bikini she might go postal or something. K's dad grumps about tea bags and dental floss, but I think it rocks.

So anyway, we got here around dinner time and Mrs D managed to fix some pretty good eats while we put things away and just yakked in our bedroom. I hope Kiera doesn't snore because we are sharing the same bed. I gotta quit writing so we can go to sleep.

Yeah, right. As if that's going to happen.

Thursday, July 4

Kiera and I got the giggles this morning, cause we both got into our bikinis and then hid them under our regular clothes. Hers has red and white stripes and mine has yellow flowers. Since we both started out naked and then put on the bikinis, it occurred to me that it was just like putting on our underclothes – except that we were going to be running around with only our underclothes when we got to the beach. Could you imagine what the old fogies would say if we were in public with only our bras and panties?

Strange stuff.

Also, that's a whole lot more skin showing than usual. I just hoped nothing would happen to make me blush – no way to hide it. (Dammit! I did blush when Taylor gave me a good looking over. He thought it was cute.)

They tried to teach me how to water ski. If water skiing is flopping around at the end of a rope while some big boat pulls you along, then I guess I was water skiing. I did a lot better at tanning, especially after Taylor volunteered to spread the suntan lotion on my back. Too bad neither one of us had the nerve to do my front.

Mr & Mrs Dean really know how to do it up for the forth of July dinner – go out to the Yacht Club. They even told us to order anything we wanted, don't worry about the price. I was going to be a good guest and order the chicken, but Kiera convinced me that the Deluxe Seafood Platter was the way to go. Lobster is really something else. We even had silly plastic bibs to wear because you dunk the lobster and crab into melted butter. Finally convinced the 'rents I was old enough for a bikini and now I'm wearing a bib for dinner.

Then we watched the fireworks from the boat anchored in the lake. Very cool and no need to drag all your stuff for miles to find an open place to sit down. On the other hand, Taylor wasn't on the boat with us, so there wasn't any chance of having him rub me again. Suntan lotion – you know what I mean!

Friday, July 5

I've gotta say Kiera has a whole lot of bikinis. This morning she had purple diamonds and she let me borrow one with blue curlicues. Hope Taylor likes it as much as Hudson seems to like Kiera's.

In the morning we went for a ride in the boat again. It's really cool to be standing at the prow of the boat as it flies across the lake. Makes a mess out of your hair, though. I actually got up on the water ski for a little bit before I lost it. I need more practice.

In the afternoon Taylor and Hudson came over and we walked into town with them. Taylor put lotion on me again, but this time I let him do my front since there was nobody watching. I didn't let him get too far, but it felt pretty good as far as it went.

The boys stayed for dinner, hotdogs on the deck, not the Yacht Club. No complaints on my part.

Why do they call it necking? Taylor didn't pay much attention to my neck and I didn't do much to his, but we did kind of sat close and let our hands wander in the dark. Then Taylor kissed me goodnight. Several times! This sure beats a family vacation all hollow.

Saturday, July 6

Where the heck did the sun go? There were no clouds in the sky when Taylor kissed me goodnight, but this morning the clouds are black and it sure looks like rain. I didn't care, Kiera had told me I could still wear her sexy bikini today, so that's what I put on. Even if I never got to show anyone I still knew I was wearing it. We hung out playing games inside and such. It was OK until there was a flash and a tremendous boom and the power went off. We sat around and waited half an hour but it didn't come back, so we decided that the holiday was over and headed for home early.

Rats! When the Deans dropped me off my parents were home early, too. It couldn't be because the power went off since they didn't have any electricity in the first place. I got drenched just running from the car to the house, I could have gone swimming and stayed more dry. Good thing I was still wearing Kiera's bikini, at least I could say I got wet wearing it. I found out why they were home when I got inside after I had changed out of my soaked clothes.

Carter

What's a young boy to do when one morning he wakes up and wonders what it would be like to be a girl? Or, if one sunny afternoon in the park he sees a girl running, her skirt flying and her hair streaming, and wonders what it would be like to be that girl. Probably every boy has wondered in passing what being a girl would be like, but few actually follow up on that thought.

Carter Newton was that boy. For Carter, those vague thoughts coalesced on the July forth picnic in his twelfth year. That was when he noticed that girls could be interesting. For some reason he wondered just why girls had to cover up their nipples and boys didn't. He had reached the age where noticing girl's breasts was very rewarding.

Carter had been blessed (or was that cursed?) with an active imagination, so naturally he wondered what it would be like to have breasts. It took a few weeks for him to realize that if you had breasts then you were expected to wear a bra. So would wearing a bra give you the feeling of having breasts? It should be easy enough to find out, all he needed was a bra.

Mom wore bras, so the obvious solution was to borrow one of her bras and find out, but there were problems with this simple solution. Everyone knows boys don't wear bras. Then again, everyone knows a lot of stupid stuff, and Carter certainly did not consider himself everyone.

So one afternoon shortly after laundry day, Carter unhooked one of his mother's bras from the laundry line and tried to put it on. He knew his arms went through the straps, but how the devil did you hook those silly little hooks together behind your back? After several frustrating tries he could hear his father's voice in his head: 'Just keep trying until you figure it out. If that doesn't work then ask somebody for help.'

As if he was going to ask his father's advice on how to wear a bra! And just why was his father's voice echoing through his head? If anyone could help it would be his mother.

Not!

(Little did Carter realize his father could give him some sage advice in manipulating bra hooks. The whole reason behind the sex lecture he had been given hadn't quite penetrated yet.)

In any case, perseverance paid off and the hooks were finally hooked. The problem was the thing was just hanging there, he was smaller than his mother. So he unhooked it and hung it back up, wondering where he could find a bra that fit him properly.

Lacking any answers, he was reduced to watching girls and wishing he could be like them. He watched rather jealously as his sister Melissa matured and got her first bra. Even though he tried on his mother's bras every once in a while they still didn't fit. Why couldn't boys wear bras, anyway?

He knew better than to ask.

Carter was growing up in a time that offered serious advantages to a boy with his interests. Why it took him so long to think of it he never could figure out, but one day when he was fourteen he realized that he could just ask the great gurus of the Internet. The poor guy just about drowned in the flood of information.

Over the next few months he realized he wasn't alone in his desires. Lying about his age he entered some of the forums and got to know the denizens therein. He learned about the sites that had stories of boys who would be girls. He saw a whole lot of pictures that made him wonder why anyone would want to embarrass themselves by posting such things. Seriously? Why would anyone want to show off a hairy body with obvious fake boobs?

And eventually he realized he could buy anything on Amazon.

But you needed money to do that. He started saving his money and sought out odd jobs to add to his savings, but it took so long! to get enough. Just a few weeks prior to the forth of July he had accumulated a couple of hundred dollars when he learned he would be home alone for an extended weekend. He knew what to measure and how to convert those measurements into women's sizes.

So, calling up a stealth page on the browser, he spent a lovely time finding just what he needed on Amazon: a bra, panties, some cheap forms and a dress. Actually three bras since they came in a set and six panties since they came in a package. He regretted he couldn't use the family's Prime account to save the shipping cost, but he wasn't going to have his parents find out what he had bought when they checked their previous orders.

Fortunately, there was one of those locker things only a few blocks away so he didn't have to worry about questions as to what that package that came in the mail was all about. His savings were pretty anemic by the time the electronic transfers were complete, but he was going to find out what being a girl would be like on the forth of July. The answer – at long last – was it was marvelous!

Even without makeup he didn't look too bad. Too bad he had run out of money before he could experiment with makeup, but that was a challenge for the future. The clothes felt right on his body. Wearing a bra was pleasing, seeing the curve of breasts when he looked down was a thrill that lasted all through Thursday and Friday. Even though Mom's bras didn't fit he could wear one of her nightgowns without it looking too bad.

The time passed swiftly, and he was very pleased with himself until he heard the garage door open and the car pull into the garage on Saturday afternoon. Panic time! He ran upstairs and swiftly removed his dress, hid the bulky breast forms deep within one of his drawers and tossed the bra down the chute to join the others, out of sight of any casual inspection. He could retrieve them later before anyone noticed that there were several new bras in the wash. Naturally, he had worn all three of his new treasures, one each day.

He quickly hauled on a T-shirt and shorts, deciding that no one would notice he was wearing the panties. He started to head downstairs when he noticed the package of panties was still on the top of the dresser. He quickly shoved them in a drawer and went downstairs to find out what was going on.

Just as soon as his breathing and heart rate returned to normal.

The Family Reunion

Chris and Sandy were still in the mudroom, trying to leave as much mud there as possible, when Carter entered. Carter couldn't help it, he just started laughing.

"Were you attacked by the Swamp Creatures? Or maybe you are the swamp creatures!"

"Carter," began Chris, "I'm going to offer you two pieces of advice. One: Never believe the weatherman, especially if you plan to hike up a muddy hill. Two: Forget you ever saw us like this if you want to live to reach your twenties."

"I hate to admit it," spoke Sandy, "but you made the right decision staying home and inside. Now, make yourself scarce so I can take off my clothes and get into the shower without leaving tracks through the entire house."

"I'll treasure your words almost as much as I treasure the sight of you after mud wrestling. Who won?"

"A draw, and now I want to draw a bath. Make yourself scarce!"

Carter went into the den and listened as his parents made their way up to their bedroom to clean up. Thinking the coast was clear, Carter headed for the laundry room to remove the evidence, but only made it part way before he heard the screen door in the mudroom slam. What was going on, a flaming invasion?

Taking a detour, Carter found his sister looking like a drowned rat, water dripping from her hair and down her face and her floppy travel bag flat on the floor.

"Jeez, first Mom and Dad, now you. Am I the only one in this family that has the sense not to play out in the rain?"

"Fuck you, big brother."

"No thanks, I have better taste. I suppose I can pass on the advice that Dad just gave me a few minutes ago: Never trust the weatherman!"

"At least the electricity is on here, it went out at the lake house so we just came home."

"And Mom and Dad came home covered in mud. They're in the shower right now."

"And I will be, too."

"Looks like you already took a shower."

"Smartass. Out of my way or I'll run you over!"

Carter decided that the best use of his time would to brew up a pot of coffee and fix something to eat for his waterlogged family. Too bad he couldn't do it wearing his dress, but some things are not meant to be.

With something warm in her belly, Sandy tackled the tremendous pile of laundry awaiting in the laundry room while her family gathered around the tube in the living room.

It took no little time to sort through the pile, but when it was done Sandy had an interesting look on her face. Entering the living room, she grabbed the remote and shut off the box.

"OK you people, everybody into the laundry room right now!"

Now Chris and Melissa were confused by this command, but Carter understood all too soon that he had not followed through in removing the evidence from the laundry.

Oh Shit!

"I have questions and I want some answers," demanded Sandy. "I want to know just where all these damn bras came from." She held up the first on from the basket. "This one's mine, it's the one I wore before we went backpacking. No problem there.

"Number two..."she held up the bikini top and bottom that Kiera had loaned Melissa. "Just where did this come from, Melissa?"

"Uh, it's Kiera's."

"And why is it in our laundry?"

"I was wearing it?"

"Somehow I wonder if there's enough fabric in this thing to qualify as something you can wear in public."

"I think I looked pretty good."

"That's just the problem," commented Chris.

"Daddy!"

"We'll talk about it later. Moving on to bra number three – also mine that I wore backpacking. Now we have bra number four."

She held up a violet lace number with very low cut cups and matching panties.

"This is certainly not mine."

"It would have been if we weren't rained out," answered Chris.

"On a backpacking trip?"

"It would look good on you no matter where you wore it."

"I think we had better discuss this when the children are not present."

"Sounds good to me!" chirped Melissa. Carter was still silent.

"Moving on to bras number five and six. I know these belong to Melissa. No problem there."

"I hope not!" chimed in Melissa.

"Now we get to bras number seven, eight and nine. They aren't mine, they aren't Melissa's. Just where did they come from?"

Silence.

"Somebody speak up."

"Uh, they're mine," confessed Carter.

"Like Sherlock Holmes said," spoke Chris, "when you eliminate the impossible you have to look at the improbable. So they're yours, Carter?"

"Yes, they're mine. Before you ask the panties are mine, too."

"Three bras and two panties?"

"Actually, I'm wearing the ones that match the green bra."

"Looks like we will have lots to talk about later on. OK, Carter – if you're going to be wearing bras then you can learn how to do laundry properly. Class dismissed. Stick around, Carter, time for your first lesson.