Date: Wed, 7 Oct 2015 22:07:30 -0400
From: user459@mail.com
Subject: Meg's Bike 17

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Soon enough, I was back to being alone in my shop.  That's the way I liked
it, or at least, that's what I had convinced myself of.  I had started to
get used to the idea of these kids coming around, yet I was feeling more
than a little guilty about it.  What if I got caught?  It wouldn't take
much; a slip of the tongue and an irate parent calls the police.  Yet, I
was like a junkie; I wanted more, to hell with the consequences.  As long
as I didn't get caught, everything was all right.  Besides, I hadn't forced
myself on any of them.  It was Meg and Laura who pushed it.  Tyler and
Donny certainly did not object, and Susan practically forced herself on me.


The weather had cooled significantly and I found myself working with the
garage door open most of the time.  When it got hot in the afternoon, I
closed it and let the A/C take over.  I kept looking out the door; half
hoping one of the little squirts would show up.  I saw a couple of walkers
and bikers, but no one I knew.  I recognized one boy from across the
street, but he was off limits as far as I was concerned.  His mother was a
bitch on wheels and I had no intention of dealing with her.

It was clean up time.  Pick up one tool and put it away, then another, and
another.  Before I knew it, the clutter was gone and the waste baskets were
full.  I took the baskets out the overhead door to my garage and back in
the door to the family garage.  I emptied them into the municipal trash bin
stored there.  On the way back to the mancave, I caught some movement in
the street.

"Hi Mister Mike!" I heard.  It was Laura and her little bike.  She was
pushing it up the driveway.

"What happened?" I asked.  I noticed a scab on her knee and handlebars that
were out of line with the front wheel.

"I fell off my bike," she explained sheepishly.  "Do you think you can fix
it?"  I looked closer and saw that, besides knocking the handlebars out of
whack, there were a few more scrapes and scratches on the bike.  Nothing
really serious; I was more concerned with the laceration on her knee and
leg.

"I can fix the bike, but how does that leg feel?" I asked.  It looked as
though it had been left untreated.

"It hurts!" she admitted.  I thought I saw her tearing up a bit when she
said it.

"How about if we take care of that first, OK?" I suggested.  I took her by
the hand and led her into the house and to the master bathroom, where I
kept first aid supplies.  I keep supplies handy because I'm always cutting,
poking, or scraping myself in the shop.   I lifted her up onto the granite
counter top so I could get a better look at her scrape.  I would have to
clean it off better to get a good look.  I partially filled the sink with
warm water and added an antibacterial wash solution to it.  I lifted her
foot and placed it on the counter so I would have a better view and angle
on treating her wound.

"Ooh, that hurts," she said as her knee bent and stretched the scabbed over
wound..

"It will feel better in a second, I reassured her.  I applied the warm
washcloth to the area and let it soften the scab.  She looked relieved and
wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.  I left the cloth on and got a
box of tissues from the counter.  She took one and dabbed at her eyes and
blew her nose.

"Didn't you do anything to this when it happened?" I asked.

"No," she said, "I haven't been home.  I came right over here."  She must
have been distracted elsewhere along the way, because I could see that it
had been neglected for some time.  I peeked under the washcloth and saw
that it was starting to soften and dissolve.  I also noticed that, with her
knee up like that, I could see up the leg of her shorts.  I saw nothing but
smooth flesh.  I don't think she was wearing panties again today.  Her
shorts were quite loose; the athletic type, so it wouldn't take much to get
a glimpse of her little pussy mound and slit.  I planned to do just that
after attending to her immediate need.

The washcloth had cooled, so I rinsed it out in the warm water, partially
wrung it out, and reapplied it.  I dabbed gently at the area and could now
see specks of dirt in the wound, too.  Maybe the sponge bath would not be
enough.

"Would you mind if I gave you a bath?" I asked.  "I have a nice jetted tub
here and it would help to clean out that bad boo-boo."  I had also noticed
that she had a slight salty, sweaty smell to her and that her hair was a
bit greasy.

"OK," she agreed.  "I didn't have a bath last night, or for a couple
nights, actually."  I turned on the faucets for the tub, adjusted the
temperature and let it start to fill up.  When it was at what I thought was
a proper level for a nine and a half year old girl, I turned the water off.
I added some of the antibacterial wash and some bath beads and turned on
the jets.  It immediately formed a blanket of bubbles over the churning
water.

I helped her out of her clothes; not much really, just a t shirt, shorts,
and flip flops.  I marveled at her sleek frame.  Not a hair or a blemish
was to be found, except for the scrape on her knee and leg.  I got a
perfect view of her bald slit and puffy mound as I helped her over the rim
of the tub and into the water.

"You just soak and relax in there for a while," I instructed.  I handed her
the washcloth and showed her how to adjust the jets.  I went to get myself
another cup of coffee.  I brought it back with me and sat on the side of
the tub, watching her soak with her eyes closed.  After a minute, her eyes
fluttered open.

"Can you wash my hair and my back, Mike?" she asked.

"Sure, I'd love to," I replied.  I got the shampoo and a bar of oatmeal
soap.  I must have looked confused as to how I was going to manage it from
the side of the tub.

"Why don't you just come in here with me?" she suggested.  Sounded like a
good idea to me on several fronts.  First, it would be easier to do her
shampoo and wash; secondly, I could get rid of the restricting clothing
that was cramping my hardening dick, and third, I could be up close and
personal with this little naked girl.  I eagerly shed my clothes and
stepped into the tub.  I sat down and positioned her between my legs,
facing away from me.  I'm sure she felt my hard dick on her back.  It
didn't seem to bother her; she pushed herself right back onto it, trapping
it between us in the slippery, sudsy water.  I had to push her away a
little bit, not only to allow me access to wash her back, but to prevent me
from blowing a load all over it.  I busied myself with the washcloth and
washed from her neck down to the beginning of her ass crack.  Then, I
dampened her hair and shampooed it twice.  She held the washcloth tightly
over her eyes while I did that and I rinsed her head with clear water.

When her back and hair were clean, I reached around and ran the washcloth
over her chest and down to her crotch.  I repeated it with my bare hands.  I
could barely feel evidence of her tiny breasts and nipples. That didn't
stop me from massaging them and running my thumbs over them.   She sighed
when I did.  She felt so smooth and slick in the soapy water.

"Here, stand up for a minute," I said.  I helped her to her feet and turned
her to face me, straddling my legs.  I needed to get a good look at this.  I
filled a plastic container I had on hand with warm water and poured it over
all the parts I had washed.  Then I soaped up the washcloth and began
washing her legs, being careful of her wound.  I had her lift a foot at a
time so I could wash them, then I ran the washcloth up and between her legs
to her crotch.

"Do you want to do this part, or do you want me to do it?" I asked.

"You do it," she said in a rather husky voice.  I ran the washcloth between
her legs as she spread them apart for me.  I followed the crack from front
to back and made sure everything was clean.  I put the washcloth down and
traced the same path with my bare fingertips.  I explored the crevasse from
the top of her hairless slit to the back of her hiney, stopping along the
way to dip into each orifice.  I used more clear water to rinse her crotch
and legs.

"Do you feel cleaner now?" I asked.

"Yeah," she answered, "But could you do that again with your fingers?"  I
knew what she wanted and I was very happy to comply.  She made no move to
close her stance, but gave me complete access to her crotch.  I traced my
fingers up each side of her mound, where it makes a "V" with her thighs.  So
smooth!  I let my middle finger slip into the slit in the middle of the
mound and slid it back between her legs and back out again.  Her lips gave
way with a little pressure and I felt the warmth emanating from her recess.
I pushed in further and back and forth until I found her channel.  I didn't
want to just jam my finger up there; well, I did want to, but I held myself
back.  Instead, I felt every crease and fold of her inner and outer lips as
well as the little nub at the top of the slit.  I paid it some attention,
much to her delight.  She was getting aroused.  I could feel the
slipperiness and smell the aroma of aroused pussy.

I had teased her and myself enough, so I eased my finger into her.  I
watched as it disappeared between the creamy white folds.   I felt no
resistance; just warmth.  It seems we both had forgotten about the scrape
on her knee.  She moaned and wriggled on my finger.

"Does that feel good, honey?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," she said, "but I kinda want to feel you deep inside me.  You
know, your dick." She began squatting over my lap and I wasn't going to do
anything to stop her.  My raging hard dick stood up proud and waiting for
her.  Her little hand guided it to the place I had just been playing with
and she sat down on my lap, facing me.  I was surprised at how far and fast
it went inside her.  She bottomed out on my pubes.

"Wow!" I breathed, "I'm all the way up in there!"

"I know," she said, "I can feel you way up in my tummy."  She put her hand
on her stomach and pushed.  I swear I could feel her do it.  Between the
warm water, the swirling jets, and being to the hilt in a young pussy; this
was heaven.  I lay my head back and let the feelings wash over me.

Laura had other ideas and she rose slowly until I was just inside her.  I
know, because I could see her pussy lips wrapped tightly around my shaft.  Then
she lowered herself to the fully skewered position.  Oh my God!  She did it
again; and again.  I felt my dick get harder and the familiar feeling of an
impending cum started from down around my toes.  She kept riding me, in her
own world of pleasure.  As she bounced up and down, her breathing became
rapid and she let out these quiet little moans.  I had a feeling she was
nearing a climax and I held out as long as I could.  Finally, on one of her
downward thrusts, I grabbed onto her hips and held her down while my cock
head expanded and I delivered my load.  Her eyes got big when she realized
what was happening and she shivered and quaked at the same time.

By the time our breathing got back to normal, the water was cold and I had
shut the jets off.  We both climbed out of the tub without a word.  I
grabbed two towels and we fried off.  I put some antibacterial ointment and
a Band-aid on her scrape.

"That was wonderful, Laura," I said.  We both got our clothes back on

"Yes, it was, Mike," she replied.

"Let's go see about that bike," I said.  We headed for the garage.