Curing Andrea's Depression (Part #1)

Candace brings her best friend, 14-year-old Andrea, on a family vacation. Eccentric Andrea becomes sexually aggressive with Candace's 16-year-old brother.

Author's Note: This is another one of the stories that was removed in May 2025. Since the rules about content have been amended to allow for 14-year-old characters, I have resubmitted it with just a few minor tweaks to satisfy the moderators.

Part One

I am Jacob Symington. When I was 16 years old in 1978, my only sibling, 14-year-old Candace, had a school chum the same age named Andrea Myers.

Andrea was many things, but an ordinary teenage girl she was not. Her life had been thoroughly complicated since the day she was born, largely through no fault of her own. Andrea’s no-good father had abandoned her mother seven months into her pregnancy. She had never seen him as his whereabouts were unknown.

She had an older brother named Daniel who was constantly in trouble with the law from the age of ten onward. The summer when Andrea was 14, Daniel was 20, and he was serving time in prison for a series of break-and-enters at local businesses. (Daniel wasn’t exactly a criminal mastermind as his antisocial behavior was recorded by security cameras each time.) It was not much of a secret that Andrea’s mother had what my grandmother would refer to as “loose morals” as she seemed to have a different live-in boyfriend every month or so. Their characters were usually sketchy, too.

Leave it to Candace to offer friendship to Andrea. It was just like her to want to help someone who was experiencing difficulties in her life. That was just Candace’s nature—a trait she picked up from my mother. My father and I were far more cynical about things, but we both came to accept that the two females of our family were kind to a fault to anyone who needed a hand.

Andrea had become Candace’s friend in the eighth grade. It was my theory that Andrea liked visiting my sister because our household offered a sense of normalcy that was notably absent in hers. With the school year now over, Andrea, who lived about three blocks from us, seemed to be a permanent fixture at our house. She never caused any trouble, but Andrea was just a little bit different compared to all of Candace’s other friends. She was sometimes hyperemotional about little things. Candace learned quickly that it was unwise to ever watch a sad movie with Andrea as she tended to weep uncontrollably over the problems of the fictitious characters on the screen. Other times Andrea would be quite giddy and happy—the most pleasant kid you’d ever want to have as a family friend.

Andrea always blamed her unusual emotional swings and occasional outbursts on having been diagnosed with “depression” by a psychologist employed by the local board of education. I was somewhat skeptical, but perhaps it was true. I also thought Andrea took advantage of the situation whenever it suited her. She struggled a bit at school, and whenever she failed to turn in an assignment on time, she would break into tears and cite her depression for all her shortcomings. No teacher dared to challenge it.

It was an annual tradition that our family would spend two weeks every July at a rented cottage located on the shores of a small lake in northern Ontario. Once or twice a buddy accompanied me. Candace had never wanted any of her friends to come to the cottage until the summer of 1978. This time, though, Candace wanted Andrea to come to make the trip as her companion. My mother thought it was a great idea. Dad and I weren’t so sure. Andrea’s mother, of course, had no objections to her daughter getting what was basically a free vacation. Therefore, Andrea was in the back seat of our car with me and Candace as we made the three-hour drive “up north”.

The long car trip to the cottage was a little bit odd. At one point I noticed tears were streaming down Andrea’s face. She stated that she was saddened about her imprisoned brother and sometimes cried about it. Another time she started laughing at nothing in particular. Andrea explained that she was recalling a funny episode of a sitcom she had watched on TV more than a month ago. When we stopped for a picnic lunch, Dad was concerned enough about Andrea’s mental state to take me aside and have a chat after we had finished eating. He said I was to keep a close eye on Andrea—to protect her from what he characterized as “her own squirrelly behavior.”

I told Dad I would do my best, but I asked him why I had this task instead of her schoolmate Candace.

“You are impartial, Jacob,” he said. “You can tell when something isn’t right with this girl. Your mother and sister are too busy trying to be do-gooders to see things plainly. Try to indulge Andrea, Jacob. Go along with everything she says so she won’t get upset. Anyway, I think Andrea likes you.”

“You do?” I said with a disbelieving tone in my voice. “Why do you say that?”

“Simple observation,” Dad replied. “During lunch I was watching Andrea closely. I noticed she was gawking at you. I also noticed she chose to sit beside you at the picnic table rather than sit beside Candace. Trust your old man’s many years of wisdom, Jacob. Andrea is smitten with you.”

Part Two

To her credit, Andrea behaved quite normally for 90 percent of the car trip. She told the four of us that she was very excited to be on this vacation as she had never stayed in a cottage before, nor had she ever swum in a lake. We arrived at our destination on the Friday evening at about 7 p.m. and began busily moving our supplies from the trunk of the car to the inside of the cottage. Shortly after we started, Dad announced that he, Mom and Candace could capably take care of that chore, so I should walk the hundred yards from the cottage with Andrea and show her where the lake was. I agreed. Andrea seemed especially thrilled with Dad’s idea.

The lake, which had no name that we knew of, could only be accessed on foot by a narrow dirt pathway that meandered through a wooded area. I always thought it was rather ritzy to have what was essentially a private lake for summertime fun. The lake itself was only five feet deep and had a soft sandy bottom. Its water was magnificently clear but a little bit on the chilly side. Wading into it any time before mid-June would cause anyone to recoil, but the lake’s coolness was very refreshing in the long and humid days of late July.

I was 16½ years old that month. I had what I called a “semiregular girlfriend” named Debbie Wilkins back home, whom I’d date a few times a month. I didn’t consider it to be a very serious relationship. Neither did she. We just had each other in case a social situation called for couples. (For example, I had gone to Debbie’s cousin’s wedding three weeks before the trip to the lake because Debbie’s invitation was for her and a guest.) Therefore, I felt I was unattached. I figured Debbie felt the same way, too.

The reason I mention my dating status is that Andrea immediately asked me about it when we began our long walk down the path to the lake. I explained to her that I had “a sort-of girlfriend but nothing too serious.” That news seemed to put a smile on Andrea’s face.

“So, would it be okay if I held your hand as we walk to the lake, Jacob?” she asked.

I chuckled slightly before replying, “You can hold my hand anytime you like, Andrea…absolutely anytime you want to!” Wise old Dad was indeed right about Andrea having a crush on me. If any member of my family had been looking out the cottage’s front window at that particular moment, he or she would have seen something totally unexpected: Andrea slipping her left hand into my right and swinging it with great joy as we headed into the woods.

Despite Andrea being a little bit odd and super emotional at times, she actually was one of Candace’s nicer friends. She was a very pretty girl with short blond hair cut in a style that looked like it was from the 1920s. She had cute dimples when she was in one of her happy moods. Her legs may have been her best feature. They looked like those of a track athlete or a tennis player. Of course, as a typical male, I had eyed her bottom and her breasts. The former was ordinary; the latter were quite appealing considering her young age. They were better than average and definitely in the perky category. She definitely needed the bra she was wearing. Andrea was definitely built better than my sister who would have been accurately described in July 1978 as a flat-chested girl.

We walked onward. About 50 yards down the pathway, Andrea slowed our pace so she could observe the forest without hurrying. I suspected that she had not spent much time in her young life just enjoying nature. We came to a complete halt for a moment after which Andrea concluded, “It’s so peaceful here, Jacob…and so romantic.” Andrea then rested her head lovingly on my shoulder. I instinctively drew her close to me with my right arm.

I then discovered one of Andrea’s idiosyncrasies was to get to the point quickly when she wanted something. Subtleties and tact were not part of her DNA. Andrea looked at me with a yearning expression and said, “Jacob, I want to be your girlfriend. I’ll love you forever. You’ve always been so nice to me since I’ve been friends with Candace…and you’re very handsome, too.”

That was a lot for me to absorb in a few seconds. I could not honestly recall my having a chance to be especially nice to Andrea in the short while I had known her because our interactions were little more than brief hellos and goodbyes. But who was I to judge someone’s positive perceptions of me? Dad had advised me to indulge Andrea to keep her happy…so I did.

There was a downed tree a few feet off the pathway to our left. Before I answered Andrea’s question about being boyfriend/girlfriend, I told her we ought to use the log as a bench and have a talk. The moment we sat down, Andrea threw her arms around me and gave me a romantic kiss better than any I had ever received from Debbie Wilkins. I had not planned on making a nutty 14-year-old my girlfriend—even just a temporary one—but her terrific and passionate kissing skills were abruptly changing my mind.

When our lips unlocked, I looked at Andrea with amazement. “Wow!” I declared. “That was the best kiss I’ve ever had in my life!”

“Yeah, me too!” agreed Andrea with a tiny bit of a giggle in her voice, even though I somehow doubted her honesty about it. Nobody is that good at anything on a first attempt.

“Anyway, the answer is yes, Andrea. You can be my girlfriend,” I promptly told her.

I was going to say something else, but I was interrupted by another one of Andrea’s world-class smooches. I didn’t officially time it, but it had to have lasted close to a minute. It featured both of us petting one another in a sensual but loving way.

When that embrace came to an end—although I absolutely wanted it to last indefinitely—Andrea continued on her straightforward path. “Jacob…” she said with a long pause, “girls like to have sex with their boyfriends!”

I automatically replied with a bit of a joke, “The reverse is true, too! Boys enjoy having sex with their girlfriends. What a lucky coincidence that is!”

That remark got another giggle from Andrea, but she was persistent. “I’ll have sex with you right now, if you want,” she declared. “I’m good at it. It will be fun. Are you okay with that?”

Dad had instructed me to indulge Andrea so she wouldn’t get upset, but I doubt he meant it to this extreme extent. But, hey, orders were orders.

“Yeah, okay, Andrea,” I managed to say. “That sounds wonderful. We’ll have sex…but where?”

We were resting in a heavily forested area. The closest clearing was near the lake…and that was 50 yards down the pathway. I suspected Andrea was in too much of a hurry to be fucked to put up with that long a stroll. Leave it to horny Andrea to come up with a great suggestion. “The fallen tree we are sitting on will have to do,” she stated. “You sit on it and I’ll ride your dick. I’m really good at doing that!” she insisted.

“Sounds great!” I said, “but before we get started—and I can’t wait much longer to start—I have to know how a 14-year-old girl like you can have so much sexual experience. Please tell me, Andrea. I’d really like to hear about it.” That was completely true for two reasons: I wanted to know more about Andrea’s sexual past, but I also wanted her to regale me with a steamy story that would cause my dick to bulge before we got down to business.

Andrea explained in great detail that her mother had had more than a few live-in boyfriends. There had been so many that both she and her mother had forgotten some of the guys’ names. The one her mom liked best was an apparently strait-laced accountant named Gerald. He defied all stereotypes about nerdy bookkeepers by being something akin to a sex maniac. He loved sex, all types, and plenty of it. He was absolutely insatiable in bed. Her mom was afraid that if she didn’t go along with every one of Gerald’s carnal desires, normal or otherwise, that he’d leave her at a moment’s notice.

One night, Gerald began to fancy her. He suggested “three in a bed” in which Andrea and her mother both pleasured him sexually and simultaneously. Gerald gave Andrea more than her fair share of the attention during that first romp—and provided very detailed instructions about how a “young nympho” should behave in the sack to bring out the best in her older male lover. Andrea quickly learned how to perform a long list of sexual feats which Gerald was thrilled to receive, but her mom eventually drew the line at some really kinky activities. Just as her mom had feared, Gerald did not like having any limitations placed on his lovemaking fun—and he was out of their house and their lives within a few days. Andrea retained her sexual knowledge, however, and often pleasured her mother’s more recent lovers whenever they—or she—asked for a night of intercourse. No wonder she was a little bit messed up mentally.

After hearing that tale—something I thought should end up in print in Penthouse magazine’s letter section—I had newfound sympathy for Candace’s school chum, but I was totally aroused. All I could say in response was, “You’ve certainly led an interesting life, Andrea. Now let’s get on with it and fuck!”

I quickly disrobed and found a soft place on the tree to rest my bare behind. (Believe me, if you can choose any place on earth to have sex, a fallen tree is not an option you should consider unless it is absolutely necessary!) Andrea, a true coquette, waited for me to get naked before she removed a single article of her clothing—just so I could have the pleasure of watching her strip until she was totally nude. What a sweet, thoughtful girl she was!

After removing her shoes and socks, Andrea pulled off her yellow t-shirt that advertised a foreign line of cosmetic products. She had a plain grey brassiere that did an excellent job in supporting her young breasts to give them extra appeal to men’s eyes. Next, Andrea took off her pink shorts to reveal a pair of white panties that were covered in a design that was either donuts or Cheerios cereal. I honestly couldn’t tell and didn’t care. It was what was beneath Andrea’s undies that interested me. After flashing me a sexy smile, Andrea undid the clasp on her bra and let it fall to the ground. She had an absolutely adorable set of perky tits. They were firm and pointy…and soon I’d have my sweaty hands wrapped around them. To finish the striptease, Andrea slowly dropped her panties to reveal a bushier vagina than I expected to see on a girl her age. All in all, she was quite a beauty to behold! My 16-year-old penis responded by becoming rock hard. It was ready for some action that dear Debbie Wilkins never came close to providing.

Since Andrea was more experienced in sex than I was—a horrible thing to admit to myself—I let her lead the way. She promptly kneeled in front of me and performed fellatio. Gerald had obviously taught her well. It included long licks along the shaft, tongue work applied on the top of the dick near its opening, and a gentle caressing of my balls. I think Andrea was surprised I didn’t come quickly. Andrea had positioned herself in such a way so I could fondle her breasts while she orally worked on stimulating my phallus, so it was a double pleasure for me.

I stopped our collective good time for a moment to candidly tell Andrea that she was a great sex partner—even though we had not experienced intercourse yet—and I hoped our relationship would last forever. I suppose that’s what all aroused teenage boys think when receiving such a carnal treat from a pretty young lover. I lifted Andrea onto my lap where we had another terrifically passionate kiss. When that ended, we both knew what was next on the agenda, but Andrea spoke first: “It’s time for me to ride your big dick, Jacob. I think you’ll like it!”

“I know I’ll like it, Andrea,” I replied softly. “There’s no doubt at all about that. How can I not like it when you’re the wonderful girl I’m fucking?”

I lifted Andrea above my lap. She strategically placed herself correctly to ride my shaft. I guided her gently downward for her reward. Within seconds…in it went! My dick penetrated her 14-year-old pussy! It had a few miles on it, but Andrea’s best body part was marvelous anyway. She was facing me, so we could look into each other’s eyes while we fucked. I helped our cause by grabbing Andrea’s waist and lifting her rhythmically up and down. What a tremendous feeling! This was an earthly paradise I had never experienced before.

Occasionally, I repositioned my hands to cup Andrea’s supple breasts so I could play with her sexy nipples. Of course, they had to be sucked, too. It would be wasteful to ignore her cute, desirable set of jugs. Andrea increased my pleasure by gyrating on my stiff penis. (“Thank Gerald for teaching me how to do this sex act!” Andrea informed me. She did not mean it literally, but nevertheless I shouted at the sky, “Thank you, Gerald, wherever you are!” My 14-year-old lover laughed loudly at my joyful silliness.)

After about six or seven minutes of this intense screwing, I knew the end was approaching. I didn’t need a pregnant teenage girlfriend, so I lifted Andrea off my lap. I knew I was about to come, but I couldn’t decide exactly where I’d fire my sperm shot. Andrea made that sexy decision as she was kneeling in front of me. Moments before I lost control, Andrea stroked my throbbing phallus and aimed its swollen head at her lovely, youthful breasts. Seconds later, a strong blast of jism soaked both of them, leaving gooey strands hanging from Andrea’s beautiful hard nipples. I swear if an artsy photographer had been present to capture the magnificent sight of my warm cum dripping off my little lover’s perfect boobs, it would have been an award-winning photo.

Andrea was soaked with my generous cum blast, but we were both covered with perspiration. Much of it, no doubt, was from the humidity in the air, but we had also generated a percentage of it ourselves with our awesome lovemaking. I had a few tissues in the pockets of my jeans. We used them smartly but sparingly to remove the evidence of my fabulous cum shot from Andrea’s torso. Once we got to the lake, we used our hands to cup enough water to wash off the sweat from most everywhere else. I was tempted to ask Andrea how my fucking was compared to Gerald’s, but I mentally talked myself out of it for two reasons: The question was likely in bad taste, and I suspected I wouldn’t like an honest answer.

Andrea loved the sight of the small lake as sunset approached. “This really is a beautiful vacation place, Jacob,” she said. “I’m so glad Candace invited me to come along as her guest.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of glad she did, too,” I agreed with a laugh. Then I added, “Andrea, we have 14 days up here. A person can only do so much swimming, hiking, and relaxing. If we don’t fuck at least ten more times before we head home, it will be a terrible shame.”

“Oh, yes, that would be terrible,” she concurred with fake concern in her voice and a wonderfully naughty glint in her eye. Andrea suggested, “Hey, boyfriend! Let’s try for 20 fucks. I’m willing to aim for that number if you are.”

We walked back to the cottage, hand-in-hand, with the setting sun in the background and a sex-filled vacation awaiting us. For a girl who was supposed to be depressed, Andrea certainly was beaming.