Date: Sun, 16 Aug 2015 12:19:15 -0400
From: user459@mail.com
Subject: Meg's Bike 1

Bisexual/adult-youth

She pedals all over the neighborhood; in the street, up into the driveways,
back into the street.  Pink bike and pink helmet, but something's not quite
right.  She looks to be between ten and eleven, but must have had that bike
since she was seven.  Her knees come up too far and her legs don't extend.
She's hunched over the handlebars.  The seat needs to be raised and the
handlebars adjusted to her new height.  She struggles to keep control of
the bike.

I can't just shanghai her into my garage and make the adjustments; think of
what trouble that could cause!  Yet it bugged the hell out of me that her
parents didn't notice and make her more comfortable. Not only that, it
would be safer and easier to control the bike if it were sized to fit her.  I
have already adjusted it in my mind several times.  I would have to measure
her leg length and match the height of the seat to just clear her crotch.  Then
I'd loosen the handlebars and raise and tilt them to a comfortable level.  In
my mind, I could see her sailing down the street on her new and improved
bike.

I spend a lot of time out in my garage workshop and find  myself glancing
out the window or the open door to see when she was around.  I'm not sure
where she lives, so I'm not able to check with her parents to get
permission to make the adjustments to her bike.

So, I'm back to the garage.  I get involved in a project, glancing up once
in a while toward the window.  Then I see her across the street on the
sidewalk.  She's struggling to keep the bike on track; it's wobbling all
over the place, but I get a good look at her.  I see that she has to cross
the street where the sidewalk ends, so I wander outside into my driveway.  She
sees me and waves, almost losing control of her bike.

"Have you had that bike long?" I ask, hoping to break the ice.  She stops
at the end of the driveway.

"I got it for my birthday when I was eight." She said.

"How old are you now?" I asked.

"I'm almost ten and a half," she said.  "My name is Meg."  She held out her
hand to me.

"Pleased to meet you, Meg," I replied, "My name is Mike."  Her hand felt
warm and soft in mine.  We shook hands and smiled at each other.

"Nice to meet you, too," she said coyly.

"Where do you live, Meg?" I asked.  She indicated one of the new houses
down the street.

"I live in the yellow house around the corner," she said.

"Well, Meg, I noticed that your bike needs to be adjusted to you now that
you have grown so tall," I said.  "Could you ask your Mom If I can adjust
it for you?  She can call me if she'd like to."  I handed her a card with
my name and number on it.

"OK," she said, and sped off down the street.

It wasn't five minutes later that the phone rang.  Meg's mother introduced
herself and we got acquainted.  She admitted that Meg's bike didn't fit her
any more, but they had no means to adjust it.  Once she was comfortable
with me I explained how I would measure Meg and adjust the bike to fit her
for the time being.  She agreed and said she'd send her back over after
lunch.

I could barely wait!  I grabbed a yogurt for lunch and got back out to the
garage as soon as I could.  I left the garage door up so she'd see me at
work in the garage.  I got back into my current project and almost didn't
notice when Meg showed up.

"Mr. Mike?" she said.  I turned quickly to see her little form standing
next to her bike.

"Come on in, Meg," I told her.

She walked her bike in and stopped in the middle of the garage floor.  I
went over and put her kickstand down.  I could see that she towered over
the seat of the bike.  She had definitely outgrown it as it was.  I picked
up a tape measure from the bench and measured the distance from the top of
the seat to a pedal at its lowest point.

"Now I have to measure you, Meg," I said, "Is that all right with you?"

"OK," she said.

"I have to measure up the inside of your leg," I continued, "Are you OK
with that?"

"Yup," she said and she moved to spread her feet farther apart, allowing me
access to measure her.  I kneeled down, extended the tape and pressed the
end of it against the seam of the crotch of her shorts.  She let out a
little gasp at being touched there, but gave no indication of wanting me to
stop.  I measured down to the sole of her sneaker, all the while keeping a
hand between her legs.  I allowed it to move around as I manipulated the
tape measure.  She seemed to enjoy it.  I know I did.  I could feel the
heat coming off her little pussy, but I couldn't keep it up for too long
without being obvious.

I turned my attention to the bike and loosened the nut holding the seat in
place.  I raised it up to a point just shy of Meg's measurement, double
checked it, and tightened the nut back up.

"Straddle the bike now, Meg," I instructed.  I stood the bike upright and
guided her into position over the seat.  It still seemed too low, and I ran
my hand along the seat to feel how much room there was between it and her
crotch.  She stood still as I rubbed my hand back and forth between her
legs and the top of the seat.

"Mmm," she moaned, barely letting the sound escape.  I removed my hand from
her crotch and offered it to her to help her off the bike.

"It's still too low," I observed and set about readjusting it to a higher
position.  When I thought it was right, I invited her to mount the bike
again.  This time, it was a fairly snug fit and I could barely get my
fingers in between the seat and her crotch.  I started moving the bike back
and forth, supposedly to check the fit.  Almost immediately, Meg started
rocking back and forth on my fingers.  Another moan escaped her lips.

"Does that feel good, Meg?" I asked.  Her face got red and she shook her
head yes.

"I bet it would feel better if there weren't shorts and panties in the way,
don't you?" I asked.

Again, she shook her head, but I didn't pursue it with her.  I had her
extend her arms and hands in an imaginary position to where the handlebar
grips should be.  I adjusted both the height and the angle of the
handlebars.

"Take it for a test drive," I said.  She rolled the bike out of the garage
and mounted it.  She took off down the street and I observe that her legs
were now extending and not cramped up like they were before.  She seemed to
have more confidence and more control of the bike as well as a lot more
speed.  She rode to the corner and then wheeled around and came back up the
driveway and into the garage.

"Wow!" she said breathlessly.  "I never knew I could go so fast!  But the
seat was a little wiggly."  She walked the bike closer to me, still
straddling the seat.  I slid me hand between her legs again and tried to
wiggle the seat.  I felt a little motion in the seat, but much more from
her crotch as she all but humped my hand with her little pussy.  I
reluctantly pulled my hand out and helped her off the bike.  I tightened
the seat mounting bolts and stabilized it.

"Try that now," I said, "and let me know how the handlebars feel.  She
glided on down the driveway again and out into the street.  She disappeared
around the corner, so I went back into the garage.  The phone rang a few
minutes later.  It was Meg's mother.  I was scared to death that Meg told
her mother that I had inappropriately touched her.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hello, Mike?" she asked.

"Yes." I answered.

"What the heck did you do?" she asked.

Oh shit! I thought, I'm in trouble now!  "Meg is thrilled!  It's like she
has a whole new bike!  How can I ever thank you?"

What a relief!

"My pleasure, send her over any time," I said, "In fact, I would like to
oil the chain and lubricate the hubs.  It would make for a smoother ride
for her."

"I'll send her back over tomorrow, if you don't mind," she said.  "I really
appreciate your help!"

"That would be fine," I said.  "She can stop over any time."  I was hoping
she would.