"Um... hi," said the girl, her teeth chattering and her breath visible. With her hair matted by the rain and her clothes soaked all the way through, she looked miserable.
"Hi," he replied, unable to keep himself from staring at her. Then he regained his composure. "Please, come in," he smiled. "I hate to see you standing out in the rain like that."
She nodded gratefully and entered. As he closed the door behind her, she stared around the living room, looking a little nervous. It made sense, of course. She had never been in his home before.
"I hope you don't mind," she told him. "I'm your neighbor from across the street."
"Yes, of course," he nodded. "It's Leslie, right?" There was really no need for the question; he was well aware of her name. Leslie Weaver. Occasional object of his fantasies. But he didn't want to give her the wrong impression.
She nodded, smiling. That was good. That meant she was glad he knew her name, not scared of him as he had thought she might be.
"I kind of... locked myself out of my house."
"Oh, you poor thing!" he exclaimed. "Do you need to use my phone to call someone?"
"No. My mom will be home in a couple of hours. I just need some place to wait out of the rain. I was going to go to Mrs. Sargrove's across the street, but she's not home."
That both excited and alarmed him. He couldn't deny that he would really enjoy spending a couple of hours in the presence of this beauty, but on the other hand, it had been a long time since he had spent any time with a girl of that age. Not since he was that age himself, in fact. He didn't know what to do, how to act, or even how friendly he should be. Too friendly, and she might jump to the right conclusion. Not friendly enough, and she might get angry at him and try to avoid him in the future.
He decided to err on the side of friendliness.
"Well, you're welcome to wait here," he smiled warmly. "My house is your house." Then he realized she might take that the wrong way. "I mean... I didn't mean it's literally your house of course... Just..."
She giggled, and he relaxed as he realized his goof hadn't really done any harm after all. One minute after meeting her, he had already nearly made a fool out of himself, but it was all right in the end.
"Anyway, you look terribly cold," he said.
"And I'm afraid I'm dripping all over your carpet," replied Leslie, staring down at her feet.
"Oh, don't worry about that. Even if you ruined my carpet, it's better than the alternative of you getting sick. I'd feel terrible if that happened."
That much at least was true. It wasn't like he was rescuing her from a dragon or evil wizard, but in his own little way, and for the moment at least, he was her knight in shining armor.
She began to unzip her coat, and he tried not to stare. It's not a striptease, after all, he told himself. It's just her coat. He did, however, catch a glimpse at the perfect moment, where she threw her shoulders back to let the jacket fall off her arms, which had the effect of pulling her shirt tight against her breasts. She didn't have much in the chest area yet, but that move emphasized what she did have, especially since the rain had soaked all the way through to her shirt. Her tee shirt. Her wet tee shirt.
Fortunately it wasn't the type that was particularly transparent when it got wet, or he might have had a heart attack right there on the spot. But it did tend to cling to her body, showing off her underdeveloped yet graceful curves.
"Where do you want this?" she asked, holding out her coat. He took it from her, and for just an instant his hand touched hers. That tiny contact sent an electric thrill through him as he realized it was the first time he had touched a girl her age since before she was even born.
He took the coat and hung it on a peg on the wall near the door. Leslie looked down at the rest of her clothes, just as waterlogged as her coat had been. She shivered, her teeth still chattering.
What should I do now? he wondered. She was still damp and freezing, standing there in her soaked clothes. Her shirt was bad enough, but her skirt, which hadn't been protected by the coat, looked like it had just come out of the washing machine before going in the dryer. His eyes traveled lower, and he noticed beads of moisture clinging to her legs above her socks. Her bare legs. Her shapely, supple, smooth young legs.
"I'm still cold," she mumbled, almost in a pleading voice. He couldn't think of what to tell her. The correct next step would be to have her get out of the rest of her wet clothes and put on some dry ones. But how could he ask her to do that?
"Um..." she said, staring down at the floor. "I don't suppose..."
"What is it?" he asked.
"Well, this is kind of embarrassing. I don't want to--"
"Never mind that," he smiled reassuringly. "Just tell me what you want."
"Well, do you have an extra bath robe?"
The image that flashed into his mind made him feel faint and wobbly in the knees. Somehow by sheer luck he managed to keep on his feet. He even managed to keep from moving too much, or gasping, or staring.
What should I tell her? What should I do? he wondered again. He did have a spare bath robe, although probably a little large for her. What he wouldn't give to see her in it! On the other hand, he wasn't sure such a sight would be particularly healthy for him right now.
"I'm sorry," she said, turning away. "I shouldn't have--"
"No, it's all right," he replied in what he hoped remained a friendly but neutral tone.
"I just wonder what my mom would think if she found out I was over here without my clothes on."
This time the mental image actually did make his knees go weak. Somehow he caught himself and made it look like he was turning to walk away. In his panic, some part of his mind that remained rational took over. "I've got a spare robe in the hall closet," he said, walking toward it. "I'm afraid it probably won't fit you too well, but it's warmer than what you're wearing at least. You can change here in the bathroom."
"Thank you," she smiled gratefully, following him into the hall. He opened the closet and pulled out the robe and a towel, then handed both to her.
"You don't mind if I take a shower, do you?" she asked. "Just to warm me up."
"No, go right ahead," he replied, another mental image threatening to upset his balance. "And don't worry. I won't tell your mom. It will be our secret."
"Our secret," she replied, then winked at him. As soon as she disappeared inside the bathroom and closed the door behind her, his legs gave out and he fell to the floor.
Inside the bathroom, Leslie stripped out of her wet things. She deliberately left the door unlocked, just in case Mr. Gardner decided to come storming in to ravish her body. Not that she really expected him to. He wasn't at all like her mother had led her to believe. Her impression of him before today had been of a creepy, vampire-like recluse just waiting to get his icy cold hands on her body. But in fact, he was rather nice.
Too nice, in fact. There was not even the slightest hint of lust in him, and so far he hadn't shown any interest in her at all. He had been a little formal, in fact. Sure he had been gracious enough to let her stay here, and even use his shower. But she had hoped that the suggestion might get some kind of reaction out of him.
Oh well. Maybe today wouldn't be the day. But she planned to visit him again some time, to keep this option open. No sense burning a bridge she might want to cross again some day.
In the mean time, she had managed to secure a few minutes of privacy. Even if she didn't get a piece of his cock today, at least she could take care of her needs to tide her over until later.
Actually, right now privacy seemed a little overrated. She would much rather do it right out in the front room, where he could watch her. She would love to give him a show. Maybe it would make him so horny that he would mount her right there and drive her wild with pleasure. But that thought had to remain a fantasy. It was clear she was dealing with a man she had to move slowly with. He had probably never even considered having sex with a girl her age. She needed to flirt with him, to gradually wear him down, to warm him up to the idea. And then, once she got that fantasy into his head, she would fulfill it for him.
Even with unkempt hair and unshaven chin, Roger Gardner was a handsome man, she decided. In fact, she preferred him this way. He had that sort of rugged, manly look. Plus there was the smell. There was just something incredibly sexy about that man-scent. She had never seen his body, but on the times when she had spied him across the street, he didn't look particularly heavyset, and so far today she had seen nothing to indicate that he had anything but a fine body. Physically at least, he was well worth seducing.
As she stepped into the shower and turned on the water, she wondered if she would manage to do it today. It would be such a wonderful experience to finally be touched by a man, to learn what it felt like to be penetrated so deeply. Did he have a large cock or a small one? Right now it really didn't matter. She just needed to feel it inside of her.
The heat of the water took away the chill in her cheeks, hands, and legs. She sighed as it relaxed her, spreading a blanket of tranquility over her. With that tranquility always came arousal, so she let her hand slide down her body between her legs. The cold of the storm had calmed her desire, but only momentarily. Now that the chill had vanished, her excitement returned in full force.
There was a certain thrill in pleasuring herself in an unfamiliar location. Sometimes she enjoyed the comfort of her own bedroom or bathroom, but today the thought that she was masturbating right in a stranger's house added its own excitement. It had been the same way in the school bathroom the first time. The thrill of danger, the chance of being caught, made it all the better. Only today, she might be caught by Mr. Gardner.
Her fingers slipped between her swollen lips, pressing in to the point at the top of the slit that she knew so well. As she stood there in the shower, she ran her fingers over it, reveling in the lightning bolts that it sent through her body.
After the long anticipation, it didn't take her long to achieve her desire. She bit down on her lower lip to hold in the wail that she so desperately wanted to let out, and let the orgasm wash through her body. It wasn't the most fulfilling climax she had ever felt, but it would have to do, until either Mr. Gardner took care of her better or her mother returned home so that Leslie could once again enter her house and run upstairs to her bedroom to have another go at it. She hoped it would be the former.
While Leslie showered, Roger busied himself in the kitchen. He had suddenly come up with the brilliant idea of fixing some hot chocolate. It would help to keep Leslie warm, and also put her at ease. There was nothing like sharing a cup of hot chocolate to help people get comfortable with each other. And he really wanted her to like him.
It wasn't that he entertained any notions of starting a romantic relationship with her. Actually, that wasn't quite true, but that was only a fantasy. Really, he was just happy for the company. The two of them probably had nothing in common to talk about, but he didn't care. Just being with her made him feel good. She had the cutest little smile, with the slightest trace of dimples. Her smiles also touched her eyes, brightening them up and making her look ten times as sweet. He could just eat her out.
Up, he corrected, mentally chiding himself for the Freudian slip. Eat her up. Not that it really changed what he was thinking, after all. But as long as those fantasies remained fantasies, what was the harm of spending a little time with a pretty girl like Leslie?
He poured some milk into a pan and set it on the stove to heat. Normally he would just throw it in the microwave, but this was a special occasion, so it called for special measures. He tried to ignore the sound of the water coming from the bathroom as he worked. The girl of my dreams is in my shower right now! he thought. Were he a lesser man, he would storm in there right now and ravish her body, but he was too honorable to do that. Besides, she would surely have locked the door.
As the milk heated, he went to the cupboard to retrieve the secret ingredient. Actually, there were several secret ingredients, though he never used them all at the same time. Instead, he alternated between them whenever he made hot chocolate. His favorite was rum, but that was hardly appropriate when serving it to a girl her age. Granted, it might help to warm her up, but he could get in a lot of trouble if anyone found out. Marshmallows were always nice, but perhaps a bit juvenile. He didn't want to insult her by treating her like a kid. Cinnamon worked well when he was in the mood for it, but some people didn't like it, so it was a little too risky. He reached into the back of the cupboard and pulled out a small bottle of vanilla extract. That was nice and safe.
He hesitated for a moment when he noticed the words "Contains Alcohol" on the bottom. Just a trace amount, of course, but it was there nonetheless.
Roger laughed at the absurdity of it all. So what if there was a trace amount in it? It wasn't like he was trying to get her drunk after all. She would have to drink gallons of the stuff to get even the slightest bit tipsy.
He heard the water turn off in the bathroom about the same time as the milk reached the perfect temperature, so he removed it from the heat just before it would have begun to boil. He turned off the stove and poured in the chocolate powder and vanilla, stirring it and then tasting it with a spoon until it was to his liking. Retrieving two mugs from the cupboard, he sat down at the table and waited for his new friend.
Leslie was not the type of girl to spend a lot of time on her appearance. For one thing, she looked great anyway. For another, time spent making herself up each morning meant less time spent getting herself off. Today though, she took a few minutes to apply a minimal coating of makeup, just enough to emphasize her natural beauty. Little touches like that might make the difference between succeeding or failing at her mission.
She reached for the bathrobe and slipped it around her otherwise nude body. He was right about it being too big for her; the bottom nearly dragged on the floor and even the loops for the sash hung low on her hips. If she were to tie it there, there would be nothing keeping it from coming loose up top.
She giggled as she imagined Mr. Gardner's reaction if that happened. It might be amusing, but most likely it would scare him off. Slowly, she told herself. You need to take things slowly.
She pulled the sash from the loops and wrapped it around her waist, tying it in a bow. The sleeves were a little long still, but despite the fact that it was designed for a man, she still looked sufficiently feminine wearing it. She loosened it just a little to lower the neckline and give him a healthy view of her upper chest. She was too young to have cleavage yet, unfortunately, but at least she could show a little of what she did have.
After testing out several poses in the mirror to see which ones looked the most sexy, she opened the bathroom door and strode down the hall, looking for her future lover. She couldn't wait to see his expression when he saw her wrapped in his robe.
She found him sitting at the kitchen table. As she entered, she watched his expression. Unfortunately, she was disappointed in her expectations. She saw no sign of arousal or excitement. She would have even settled for a bit of embarrassment. But from his lack of interest, she might as well have been wearing a parka.
"Look what I made," he smiled, standing up to retrieve the pan from the stove. He carefully poured it into two mugs as she came over and sat down in the chair beside the one he had occupied.
"Cocoa!" she exclaimed with delight. "You're so sweet, Mr. Gardner."
"Please, call me Roger. We're neighbors, after all."
"Okay, Roger," she smiled.
"And it was no trouble, really. When I saw you soaking wet on my doorstep, it suddenly put me in the mood for something nice and warm in my stomach." He handed one of the mugs to Leslie, who took it and gave it a sip. It was nice and chocolaty, with a hint of vanilla. She had never thought of using vanilla in cocoa before, but now she realized that she liked it.
She suddenly remembered that vanilla extract had alcohol in it, and for a brief moment she had the absurd idea that he was trying to get her drunk. But of course that was a stupid idea. For one thing, there was hardly any alcohol at all, and for another, all the signs pointed to the conclusion that he didn't find her the least bit sexy.
"I didn't know what to do with my clothes," she told him, "so I just left them on the counter in the bathroom. I hope they dry by the time I need to go home."
"Tell you what," he said. "Why don't I put them in the dryer?"
"Good idea," she smiled.
"Right after I finish my cocoa, of course."
Again, he had that friendly yet slightly formal attitude. Apparently she was going about this all wrong. So far he had given no sign that he was interested in her at all.
She decided to do something to catch him off guard, to see if she could get some kind of reaction out of him.
"I hope you don't mind, but I left off my underwear too," she said. "My bra was mostly dry because it was under two layers of clothing, but my panties are really wet." There was a double meaning there that she hoped he would pick up on. Would he get the hint? Would he realize just how aroused she was? Would he at least stare at her as he realized that she was completely naked under her robe?
"That's all right," he replied without so much as a tremor in his voice. "A few minutes in the dryer should take care of them all."
How frustrating! How could he be so calm like that? Leslie was getting impatient. She needed some kind of sign, anything at all. But he was just too composed. How could a man be so completely indifferent to her charms?
He was probably not interested in girls her age at all, she concluded. To him, she might as well have been eight instead of thirteen. Just a little girl with nothing to offer a guy like him.
Maybe after he saw her underwear he would start thinking more naughty thoughts. She deliberately drank her cocoa slowly to make sure he finished first. If she finished hers ahead of him, he might ask her to put them in the dryer herself, and he might never see them. No, it was absolutely essential that he be the one to do it.
He's going to touch my underwear! she noted with glee. It was just too bad that she wouldn't be wearing them at the time.
They sat in silence for an awkward moment, so Leslie decided to strike up a conversation.
"You're sure it's all right for me to stay here?" she asked.
"It's fine," he smiled. "To tell you the truth, I'm glad for the company."
"So I take it you're not married?"
"Why don't you get one?"
He laughed. "You're pretty inquisitive."
"I'm serious, Mr Gardner... I mean, Roger. You must get lonely sometimes."
He sighed, turning away, and she wondered if she had offended him. So far things were not working out well at all.
"Sometimes," he admitted. "I guess I've never really had much motivation to go find me a girlfriend ever since my wife left me a couple of years ago."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Leslie told him, and she meant it. She hadn't planned to bring up a sensitive subject.
"No, it's all right. I just have to face the fact that she's gone now. It's probably good for me to talk about it. I guess I've been pining for her ever since. That's not really healthy, is it?"
"I don't know."
He laughed then, and suddenly things were all right again. "I don't know why I'm asking you. Obviously you've never gone through something like that. I guess I just feel comfortable talking to you about it, or something."
That made Leslie feel good, that he was willing to bare his soul to her like that. Of course, that didn't mean anything as far as her plan of seducing him was concerned, but at least he was being friendly.
"So why did she leave you?" she asked. "I mean, I don't want to pry or anything, but I just want to know. Did she run away with another man or something?"
"No, nothing like that."
"So why then?"
"Well, that gets complicated. She found out things about me... things I'm not proud of."
"Oh, great, I've just walked right in to the house of a serial killer," joked Leslie.
Roger laughed. "Oh, don't worry. It's nothing that severe. Besides, even if I am a serial killer, I like you too much to kill you."
"You like me?" she beamed.
"Sure," he smiled. "It's nice to have someone to talk to for a change."
Leslie smiled, but inwardly she was disappointed. So that was all he meant. He had gotten her hopes up momentarily, but he didn't mean anything by it at all. All she was to him was someone to talk to. It didn't matter that she was a pretty girl. She could have been a man for all it mattered to him.
Well, it would have to do for now. Maybe after he saw her underwear he might start thinking differently about her. She had left them lying in a very conspicuous spot, so he couldn't just scoop them up with the rest of the clothes. He would have to touch them individually.
"So what about you?" he asked. "Do you have a boyfriend?"
Leslie would have been happy to have him ask that question under any circumstances, but her joy was tempered by his casual tone of voice. If he had made it sound like he was hoping for a negative answer, or even just that he was trying to change the subject, it might have clued her in to what he was thinking. But really he was just making conversation. Still, it did give her a bit of an opening.
"No," she replied. "Sometimes I think it would be nice to fall in love, but all the boys at my school are creeps."
"I can certainly understand that," he smiled. "I was that way too when I was that age."
"That's hard to believe," she said.
If he recognized it as a compliment, he did nothing about it.
"Seriously. All boys go through that stage. But don't worry; most of them grow out of it. I'm sure you'll find the right guy eventually."
He's sitting right here with me, she wanted to say.
"I hope you're right," she said instead. "But what if the right guy comes along and he doesn't like me?"
"A pretty girl like you? Impossible."
"You think I'm pretty?" she asked, once again getting her hopes up.
But a moment later he dashed them again. "Of course I do," he replied. It wasn't the words, it was how he said them. He said it the same way he would say it to an eight-year-old. She was a pretty girl, not a pretty woman.
"Well, it's not likely the right guy is going to come along in my school. The boys are so immature. Or maybe I just think that because I'm really mature for my age. At least, that's what people tell me." It was a lie of course, but she wanted him to think of her as an adult, not a child.
"I'm sure you are," he smiled.
"Maybe I'll never get along with boys my age. Maybe I should look for someone older and more experienced."
"Be careful with that attitude. It might get you into trouble."
"I wish it would," she mumbled.
Roger laughed. She didn't know what he meant by that. But it wasn't condescending or malicious; it was a warm and friendly laugh. Whatever he meant by it, he wasn't trying to be mean.
She continued to sip her cocoa slowly, watching to make sure he drank his more quickly. Finally, when she was about three quarters finished, he lifted the cup and drained the last of the beverage. Then he put it down on the table.
"Nothing like a nice cup of hot chocolate on a day like this," he smiled.
"You sure know how to make it, too," she said cheerfully.
"Oh, I just heated the milk and threw in some powder. Not much to it." But he seemed to enjoy the compliment.
Leslie continued to watch him to see if he would get up from the table to go fondle her underwear. He sat there for about twenty seconds in silence, seemingly not in any hurry.
"Well, I'd better go throw your clothes in the dryer," he finally said. "When you're done with your hot chocolate, you're welcome to watch TV if you want. The remote's sitting on the couch."
"Thanks," she smiled, secretly wishing he didn't have a TV. After all, the boob tube was just a way to fast-forward the time to make her go home sooner. She would much rather spend it doing other things with him. And if he got interested in the program, he might be less inclined to pay attention to her.
On the other hand, sitting down together on the couch might give her the opportunity she needed to snuggle up next to him. All innocent, of course. She didn't want to scare him off.
She could pretend to get sleepy. Yes, that would work. She would lay her head down on his shoulder, maybe start slipping down his chest. He would reach out to stop her, and end up wrapping his arm around her. Then she would gaze up into his eyes with the cutest, sexiest expression she could muster, and then he would lean in...
Even if that didn't work, it would set up a chance for her to pretend to be asleep. Maybe he just needed a chance to molest her without her knowledge. He would undo her robe, then open it to reveal her body. Maybe he would stop there. Maybe he would continue on. Either way, she would wake up at just the right moment, he would apologize, and then she would say it was all right and allow him to continue. Yes, everything was going to work out after all.
Roger stood and placed his mug in the sink, then giving her one last smile that somehow managed not to show any emotion whatsoever, left the room. Leslie hurried and finished her cocoa, spent a moment loosening her bathrobe just a tiny bit more, then headed out to the living room to put her plan into action.