Message-ID: <19530eli$9902010428@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year99/19530.txt> From: "Torvald G" <torvaldgrimkeep@hotmail.com> Subject: Good Neighbors (m/f, ped, cons) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <19990131222254.11789.qmail@hotmail.com> [NOTE: This is a work of fiction--illegal acts are described herein for entertainment purposes only. If you are under the legal age of consent in your area, do not read. All resemblances between characters in this work and persons living or dead are purely coincidental.] GOOD NEIGHBORS By Big B. I didn't think much of the doorbell ringing at 2:45 that afternoon. I work out of my apartment and Federal Express and UPS are constant interruptions. To my surprise, one of the neighbor girls was there, in her school uniform with a backpack full of school books. "Can I come in Mr. Abernathy?" she asked shyly. "I forgot my key and mom won't be home 'til six." I pushed the door open. Great, another interruption. I was never going to finish my project. "Sure. Make yourself at home," I lied. "When's your sister going come home?" I knew these girls, this one was Roxanne, a twelve-year old brunette nymphet who was just starting to grow little breasts on her tiny little torso. The other one, Jodi, was seventeen, blonde, and stacked. "She's off with her boyfriend, Gary," Roxanne said, tossing her bookbag on the couch. "Oh. Well I've got a lot of work to do. Maybe you can do some homework while I get back to my paperwork." I felt sorry for her. I was too abrupt. If her sister had stopped by I would have paid lots of attention to her. "Do you want something to drink?" "Have any soda?" She flopped down on the couch, putting her feet on the coffee table. I could see white underwear as her plaid skirt parted. I averted my eyes. She was only twelve. I returned from the kitchen with her drink. She had taken off her uniform jacket, but her face was still red. She must have run up the stairs. "What size shoes do you wear Mr. Abernathy?" she asked. "That's a strange question," I said. I was both self-conscious and proud of my feet. Although I'm only six feet tall, I wear size fourteen shoes. I told her the size. "Fourteen is good," she said. I smiled, puzzled, and went back to my desk. "Mr. Abernathy," she said, before I could even pick up a piece of paper. "I have a business deal for you." I turned my head toward her. What business offer could a pigtailed child have? Did she want to sell me Girl Scout cookies? Why did I let her in? "You see," she said, standing up and brushing wrinkles from her blouse, "I'm mad at my sister, so I want to get back at her. She broke the antique clock that Mom got from her grandmother and I got blamed for it. So I'm going to get her back." "Roxanne, I have work to do. If you don't mind...." "I'm almost finished," she said. "You see, Jodi really likes her boyfriend, Gary, and, well, he is kind of cute. I want to take him away from her. I know she won't let him screw her. All she does is give hand jobs and I think he wants more." I had seen Gary around. He was also seventeen. Of course he wanted more than handjobs. "Yesterday I told Gary he could do whatever he wants with me, but he said no." I almost told her that she was too young to be thinking such thoughts and that Gary had the right idea. Instead, I wanted to see where she went with this idea. "He laughed at me at first. Then he told me he was too big for me and he'd never fit inside me. I asked him why he thought that and he said because he had a really big dick and you could tell because he has size twelve feet. I think he was trying to scare me away or something. But I came up with an idea. You see, I remember seeing you around the building and noticing how big your feet were, so I figured you must be really big. You could stretch me out first, then he wouldn't have any excuse. Y'know? I can pay you my lunch money." By the time she had finished saying all this, she was standing right next to me as I sat at my desk. The top two buttons of her plain, white dress shirt were undone and I could see a little of her chest. She was too small to have any cleavage. "I don't think this is a good idea," I started, but she shut me up by leaning forward and kissing me lightly on the lips. "The least you could do is show me how to kiss." Even though she was twenty-two years younger than I, I thought the idea wasn't too bad. Who would if faced with such a situation? 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