Another of the "Come" series, featuring young Janet and her old nemesis, Jim. The stories in correct order are: Come Out and Play, Come Play By the Pool, Come Fix the Pool, and Come Back Later Janet. Enjoy.
Jim and Janet have a rather unusual relationship, which is explored more in this story. We meet some more of the girls at the pool, who will appear solo in future stories.
(Mg, ped, tease, fondle, finger fuck)
This can be a standalone story, but will make more sense if you first read “Come Out and Play”.
Standard Disclaimer: This story contains sexually graphic and explicit material and as such it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, please read no further. If you are offended by stories featuring group sex, bisexual situations, incest, sex between minors and adults, or any other situation, please check the story code before reading the text. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein, especially when it comes to unsafe sexual practices or sex between adults and minors.
As we digest our lunch, the boys and I are sunning ourselves by the pool for a few minutes. The sign is not up yet; we are having a private few minutes to enjoy a dip without all the bustle and noise.
I have been trying to show Barry, my youngest son, how to do a back flip off the board. That is my one and only acrobatic accomplishment. After one disastrous try that ends in a stinging splash-crash landing, he is through trying this for the day. I don't blame him. His back is red and looks like it smarts.
"You are getting close, Barry," I comfort him. "A few more tries and you will be locked in on it."
“Maybe, but no more today." He rubs his back as best he can reach it.
"Well, you can't do it when we have kids in the pool, you might land on somebody. I'm gonna open the pool up now, okay with you guys?" To a couple of "Okays," I walk on out through the pool house and the garage and flip over the sign so the green side is out. All the kids know red means stop and green means go.
"Hi, Jim!" There are four kids waiting, sitting on the curb, towels draped over boys’ shoulders, girls wearing their towels sarong style. They all file past me into the garage, bare feet and flip flops smacking the floor. I high five the boys and pat the girls on the butt as they file past me. I walk behind eight year old Missy, the last in line and watch the wiggle of her little rear as she walks down the path. She smiles at me over her shoulder and I wink at her. As we reach the door to the pool house, I tug at her towel and she stops and turns to face me.
"Did your mom fix your suit?"
"No. But look!" She unwraps her towel to show me a sleek new two piece suit, one that fits her with a little room to spare, as I can see a couple of tucks where the elastic took up extra material in the waist. What a change in this little girl over night!
Yesterday I sent her home after her swim with a safety pin holding her little suit bottom up to keep her parts from being exposed. Missy had gone into the pool house to use the bathroom, and had come out crying and clutching her suit to keep it up. Chlorine and sun exposure had finally weakened the draw string in her pants so it had parted, and the little girl had pulled the ends out.
"I just gots a good place to swim and now my suit is broken," she wailed as I tried to comfort her.
"Don't cry, Missy, we will get it fixed, or get you a new one."
"But Mama told me I had to make this suit last this summer." She sobbed, big tears streaming down her cheeks. "Mama don't gots no money for a new suit!"
"Come on with me," I said as I lifted her in my arms and carried her through the sliding door into my bedroom. I deposited her, wet suit and all on the edge of my bed. "Let me see."
I pulled her hands away and checked to see how much her waist stretched out... hmmm, quite a ways. I could see her little mound and the white skin of her little pudenda tucked between her thighs.
"Hold these up in front," I told her as I went to look in my sewing box. I came back with a big safety pin.
"Can you fix it, Jim?" Missy was down to just an occasional sniffle-sob now.
"I think I can pin it up so you can swim today. Stand up." I gathered up the material in back, getting a nice view of the white skin of her butt as I did, and pinned a pleat into the waist to hold her waist tight. "There. Is that too tight?"
"No. It feels just right. Thanks Jim!" Missy has decided her summer isn't ruined after all.
"Okay, Missy, if that doesn't work and if your mom can't get you a new suit, I will fix that one or get you a new one. I promise." I patted her butt and she ran out ahead of me to hop back in the pool.
Later that afternoon, I took the boys for an early supper at her mom's little diner, and told her about Missy's suit accident. I left a twenty dollar bill as a tip.
Now Missy is fixed up with a new suit and is a happy little girl again. ‘Good,’ I am thinking.
"Wow! That is a good one! You look really good in red!" I hook two fingers in the waist band of her bottoms, right below her belly button, and pull it out toward me. "Lots of room in here. You look good enough to eat!" I lean in and sneak a quick peek down her front, then pull her toward me and plant my lips right above my hand and blow a raspberry right on her belly button.
"Hey! Stop that! That tickles." She jumps back as I release her pants, I don't want to tear those the first day.
"Okay, okay!" Hearing kids yelling out front, I shoo her on through the door into the pool deck. The two boys have already thrown their towels down and are testing the water with their toes.
The other girl is Sandy, and the little second grader has shed her towel and is heading around the pool to deposit it on a lounge chair. She will sit and watch for a while. She and her nine year old sister Mandy have dark coloring and both have the same well shaped bodies with just a hint of a layer of baby fat giving them the softest skin.
"Hi, Jim!" A bevy of five girls come through the door, three are sisters. The oldest, ten year old Janet, with whom I am conducting trials with my “The Breast Enhancer” cream, comes up and wraps an arm around my waist. "Hi, Jim,” she says softly to me. “Will you play with me today?"
"Sure, babe." I wrap her in a brief bear hug. I'm sure she feels my semi erect cock against her belly as I hold her briefly. "You staying late tonight?"
"I can't. Mom said to come right home 'cause Dad is coming home early tonight and we are going shopping and out to dinner."
Rats! "Okay, we will just have to have some fun in the pool then." I squeeze her to me again and let her continue on around the pool. I am going to be busy, and I hope no moms show up to swim today.
"Hi, Jim!" Sandy's older sister slaps me on the butt as she wiggles her luscious little butt past me.
"Mandy, you are going to get it for that!" I have not been able to get very far with her as yet, just enough to know she has super soft skin. She has told me she has even softer places, which I have not fingered, er, figured out yet, but I have a good idea where she means. Maybe today, I think, following her curvaceous little ass with my eyes until she sits next to Sandy.
"Brought you a cookie, Jim," Janet's eight year old sister Tammy tells me as she hands me a homemade chocolate chip from her handful. A slightly chunky girl, she likes to eat and she shares her snacks with me, along with parts of her body. Little six year old Sammie is just behind her and wiggles her butt at me as she goes by. Her mouth is busy with a cookie so she just smiles and waves.
"Thanks, Tammy! Hey, Sammie, don't forget you’ve got to practice swimming today. You want to get in the deep end, right?" All the little girls and boys have to learn to swim enough strokes to get them out of trouble in the pool before they get to go in the deep end.
Sammie nods her head understanding, as five boys rush in and jump right into the pool. I notice girls tend to greet me and hang out for a while, while the boys greet my boys and jump right into the water. Works for me.
Where is my wife, you wonder? And why are all these girls and boys at my house with no parents, other than myself? Well, human nature being what it is, when a babysitter willing to take on all the neighborhood children comes along, the natural thing to do is take advantage of it. Mothers appreciate having the afternoon off.
My wife died bearing our second son. Over the years I have gotten over the pain of the loss. I now have a comfortable living from a couple of patents, and have written and published a couple of novels which will put the boys through college. I work from my office at home, managing my investments and working on my third novel.
When I looked at this house, I fell in love with the layout, the bedrooms with bath across the hall for my boys, and the master bedroom in back with sliding glass doors onto the pool deck. The pool table and ping pong table in the rec room were a selling point too. So was the pool full of screaming little girls the first time the realtor brought me around to see the house.
Of course my boys moaned and groaned when they saw the frilly little girls’ rooms. I assured them that could change. The previous owners had two little girls, and apparently most of the little girls in the neighborhood were their pals when it came time to swim. When I bought the house, we seemed to inherit all the little girls along with the boy friends of my sons. I didn't mind. Hell, I love it.
I only insisted that all parents had to either sign off on their children coming over, or come with them to swim and observe for themselves. I was a little surprised at how many just signed my note. Yes, it was okay with them if I wanted to be fool enough to entertain their kids for as long as they wanted to stay each afternoon. I have a good relationship with all my neighbors, who can hardly complain about the noise every afternoon, because their children are part of it.
I have a thing about little girls. I love to watch them, talk to them, touch them, hug them, cuddle, and with the occasional one I go as far as I can go. Will I be caught or will one of them tell on me some day? Possibly, but I cannot stop myself now, only be as careful in choosing my little lovers as I can be.
I am very discrete in my adventures and suspend all activity if I have parents in the pool or sipping a soft drink as they watch their children play. They think I am a tame old fool who loves children. Little do they know...
I see Sammie heading down the steps at the shallow end of the pool. I dive in next to the board, and glide along the bottom, up the slope and surface next to her as she stands in three feet of water.
"Jim!" she says brightly.
I put an arm around her and pull her close. "Ready to go to work?" I ask, as I lift her and walk her to the five foot level. "Let’s blow bubbles." We both put our faces in the water and blow long strings of bubbles. She has no qualms about putting the better part of her face into the water. "Now, let’s bounce."
We bounce around, her with arms around my neck, and knees hugging my sides just above my hips. My hands clutch her thighs just below her bathing suit. Occasionally I let my hand slip a little and my fingers rub over her soft skin to the leg band of her suit, just below her soft nether cheeks. God, I love teaching little girls to swim!
About every third bounce, we go all the way under and her eyes get big as we look at each other underwater. I stay down only a moment and then she starts to struggle to get back up and my fingers push under the leg bands for a precious second or two until we are back up out of the water. My fingers and mind and memory are full of the feeling of her soft flesh on the outer edges of her labia. She is oblivious of the thrilling gift she has given me.
"That’s fun," she brightly declares.
We pause for a moment to rest. Sammie looks into my eves and plants a quick kiss on my lips. A lot of the little girls do this after I molest them. Are they aware of what has just happened? Or do they just feel affection for me because I hold them close and give them the loving attention they desire, but do not get from their Daddy?
"Thank you, sweetheart. You did real good. Now for some paddling and kicking." I teach the little ones the basic dog paddle to keep their head above water. We go into a little shallower water, and I hold her with left palm supporting her chest, right palm just above her mound, with thumb extended to the area of her pubis. She involuntarily pushes her mound down against my thumb pressure as I urge her to "Paddle and kick!"
I gradually relax my support as she does her best to keep her head down so she is not arching her back. She paddles in a circle as I spin at the center. I work her a little closer to the side, and when she comes around so she is heading that way, I step back. "Swim to the side, Sammie! Do it girl!"
She does it. She is proud of herself, and I give her effusive praise.
"Stay there Jim," she shouts. Launching herself from the edge, she swims toward me as I slowly back up. When she catches me we are almost at the other side. I hug her and kiss her cheeks as I point that out to her. She is amazed that she swam so far.
One other thing to do… I edge us down the side toward the deep end, and when we are in water up to my nipples, I boost her up to the deck, back up half way across the pool, and tell her to jump in and swim to me. She jumps right in, comes up and makes a quick swipe of her face with one hand and then paddles easily on by me to the other side.
I decide to make her day. Taking her hand, I lead her to the steps and we climb out of the pool. We walk around to the diving board, and I shout at the crowd to get their undivided attention.
"Hey, everybody. Pay attention. Sammie has showed me she is ready for the big kid stuff. She is now cleared to jump in and swim anywhere in this pool she wants to.”
“Sammie, do you agree to abide by the pool rules? No running, no pushing people in, no splashing people, no jumping on people, no jumping off the board unless I say so, no peeing in the pool, no fishing, no eating cookies underwater, and no kissing anybody but me, so help you?"
For some reason, my last rules always seem to evoke catcalls and jeers from the crowd. "Silence!" I shout.
"Yes." Sammie is suddenly almost speechless.
“Go for it, Babe. Remember, straight off the end. Swim to the ladder. You can do it." I pat her fanny and give her a boost up onto the board and then a little push.
Sammie slowly advances to the end of the board, hesitates a second and to shouts of "jump!" she jumps in. She swims a few strokes underwater, and only has a couple of yards to swim to the ladder.
I am there to greet her as she climbs out, and I give her a big hug and a big wet smacker on the forehead. Everybody claps for her and she gets pats on the back all around. It is a ritual the boys and I came up with to make the little kids feel special.
"Okay, everyone that wants to may jump or dive off the board. Line up, take turns, and remember to check that the area is clear first. When you come up, get out of the way." I go first and do my famous back flip.
All the kids that are wet follow me off the board. There are choruses of "Watch me! Jim, watch me," as everyone shows off. I climb out and go to sit on a double lounge. As usual, it is only a moment until a small body plunks down next to me. It is Janet, busy dying herself off after her jump from the board. She jumps up, rubbing her seat, and spreads the damp towel out on the hot seat, and sits back down to get some sun. Then she sits back up and pulls a bottle out of the little bag she had carried over. She hands it to me.
"Rub this sun block on me, Jim."
"You bet! It will be my pleasure, dear." I say, and I mean it. I sit up cross legged, and pouring a few drops on my right hand, I rub it over her shoulders and neck. I push her down on her back, and rub around just at the edges of her suit straps and bra top hem. Then I pour a few drops on her stomach and use my palm to smear it around, down to the top of her low slung pants, and up to the bottom of her skimpy bra top.
I sneak a quick peek around, nobody is watching. I sneak my fingertips under the tiny top and rub back and forth from one small areola sized nipple to the other. She is on the cusp of puberty, and her nipples are no longer little pips, but mouth tempting swollen bumps on her chest. She rolls her shoulders around and raises a hand to dislodge my hand.
"That tickles," she murmurs.
I abandon that effort, and finish the rest of her chest and her sides. I look around again. No one is watching; everyone is busy getting turns on the diving board.
I slip my marauding fingers into the waist of her suit. Janet does not have a bikini, but she compensates by keeping the waist tie loosely tied and rolling the waist over a couple of times and then lets the suit bottom stay up by riding her hip flare. She has a slightly curvy waist, but not much at ten years old.
I marvel at how she swims, but does not lose her suit. When I first saw her in it, I was sure she would be showing off pussy any day, but she continues to disappoint me. But I digress.
I have fingertips on soft skin covering a firm rise from the bottom of her tummy to the mound that pooches out the center of her suit just before it disappears between her thighs. Ah, those lovely little tanned thighs. I am going to work on them in a minute, but first...
"Why don't you just touch it then?” she says impishly. “You know you want to."
Her hand comes up again and this time takes my right wrist and shoves my hand down into the suit and onto the Promised Land. Once there, she relaxes her grip, but keeps her fingers lightly on my wrist.
"So much for finesse," I mutter to myself, but I don't let my surprise interfere with my mission. I palm the warm, firm, smooth little girl pussy hump and use my fingers to titillate the love bump that rises and hardens under my tweaking fingers. I know my time down there is limited, and I use what I have getting directly to the point of this whole sun block rubbing exercise. I watch her suit go in motion from my adroit finger work underneath. I try a one finger tip slide on down the crack to see if I can just...
"No, you don't!" Once again the dreaded words, and once again my reluctant hand is hauled out into the open. "Do my legs now." She pushes my hand down over the hills and valleys of her suit front to the start of her thighs.
"Yes, dear, I love to do your legs, dear."
"Quit it!" she giggles. "I did let you touch it."
"Thank you for that, dear. I'll do your lovely legs now, dear."
I scoot down so I am sitting at her thigh level. I can reach her feet from here, and I quickly give them a rubdown with sun block up her shins to her knees. I rub sun block into the fronts of her thighs and down the outsides. I nudge her far knee and she moves it out about six inches. I work the lotion up the insides of her legs and thighs, slowing to my best imitation of sensual touching as I approach the junction. I don't really know what sensual touching is. I settle for soft and gentle rubbing, and I apply pressure on the far thigh as I get close to her crotch.
With a dramatic sigh, she obliges by opening her legs much wider. I check for an audience again, and move one hand against the crotch with a finger slipping under the leg band and up between the lips there. I search for the virginal opening, quickly, but gently. She does not provide much lube yet, so the going is slow so as to not irritate sensitive flesh. My other hand rubs up and down the smooth inner thighs.
My hand is removed again, and her thighs come back together. I have not felt that hymen or lack thereof yet, and I am not going to on this pass either. Now it is my turn to sigh. "Okay, roll over so I can do your back."
She sighs and moans again as if I have asked for an impossibly difficult favor, then with my help she rolls over. I pull her lower legs apart and crawl between them, on my knees, and sit back on my crossed feet.
Again, a quick scan of the pool, as I pour a palm full of liquid and rub my palms together, then start at her heels and over her calves to the ticklish backs of her knees. Normally I might linger there to tease her, but today I have a mission. Up the back and outside of her thighs, tanned and covered with super fine little blonde fuzz. Her hair and body hair is bleached by her time in the sun at this pool.
"Open up," I say as I nudge her knees apart by spreading mine. I get a reluctant compliance. With her legs spread, I have a good view of her little bottom, swim suit hugging each firm little nether cheek, and tucked into the center crease. I lightly trace the crease on each side where thigh becomes butt, and the smooth slightly whiter inner thighs just below her private area.
This position has special meaning for me and Janet, but that is another story. I spread more lotion up her inner thighs, making sure to bump her crotch area liberally, especially where I am sure her little love bump is waiting for my touch. She is visibly relaxed at about the tenth bump.
Time for another stab at my objective for today… the heretofore untouchable vagina. Another check of the horizon. All clear.
I hook the middle finger of my left hand into the right side of her swim suit crotch, and pull it way over to the left. Beautiful little cunt lips are exposed along with slit and clitoris standing out just above the towel covered lounge seat. My left thumb covers the rosy soft skin of the wrinkled little hood and begins a circular rub, around and around.
Ah, the little darling likes that. Keeping one eye on the inverted little pussy exposed in front of me and scanning the pool with the other, I bring my right hand into play; first to my lips where I wet a forefinger with saliva to ease its passage. Then to the slit where pink is beginning to show as it gradually opens. Let me see, about two fingers width up from the clit, I very carefully insert the finger and slide it in. Not too far! Twist the wrist and circle the finger around, searching as it opens the lips to more pink inner flesh.
Back to the nose for a sniff, the extended tongue for a taste, pick up another load of saliva, and back. Up or rather down, as she is on her tummy, from the area where her buttocks start, to just shy of her clit I sweep my saliva loaded finger. Ah ha, the wet little slit is gaping open now.
I can see it! Darker red flesh opens into a tube that fades into darkness inside. The opening is small and oval shaped, long way lined up with her gaping slit; about the width of my finger tip, but stretching open as I watch.
Forget the crowd, this takes all my attention. I lean in close to look at the wrinkles and folds of skin I can see in the tunnel, exposed now by the bright sunlight. She must feel my hot, heavy breath on her virginal bareness...
"Don't touch!" she warns.
"I'm not," I answer. "I'm just looking. You're beautiful down here! So sexy!" I try to mollify her with flattery.
Well, that's just great. Where the hell are those sex story little girls that are so hot to trot at even a sexy look? I have yet to meet my first one. I suppose this has scotched my chances of getting a finger in there. The hole has been widening and lengthening and I think it could take a thumb tip now. I'm sure she is still virgin, but has she been fingering herself?
I'm thinking it is stretched somehow. Perfect smooth edges though, not torn yet. Yeah, she's a virgin.
"What the heck." Did I say that out loud? Well, no matter what, I was going for it.
Adding another dollop of saliva on my forefinger tip, I go for it. Right into the perforation in her hymen and quickly inserted into the hot little sheath until the knuckles of the other fingers hitting labia lips stops it… all the way in. Ooh, what a feeling… the slick tightness that stretches and gives, the sauna like heat, and the places that quiver and quake under my finger tip.
Where is that sweet spot they talk about? I twist my wrist to circle my finger tip deep inside her. I slowly pull out and push back in again. Out and back in again… and again. According to the stories, I should have her swooning in ecstasy by now, with pussy juice running out over my finger in a steady stream. She should be writhing and humping and melting with passion. But...
"Get out of there!" she snaps. As she speaks, she moves forward and raises her rump. My hands are dislodged and I am: "out of there."
"Okay, okay. Don't have a cow! I'm sorry if I hurt you."
"You didn't hurt me. You just have to keep on doing new things, don't you? Why can't you just keep rubbing it? That's what I like."
"I'm sorry. I'm a boy, and boys like to explore."
"Well, go explore somewhere else. Now do my back. And no more exploring today."
"Yes, dear. I'll do your back now, dear." I reach a hand out to pull the suit out of her butt crack where it had lodged when I let go of it.
"Stop it!" She reaches around to bat my hand away and fixes it herself. "And don't call me, dear!" But in spite of herself, once again she giggles.
“Yes, dear... Oops! Sorry, dear."
As I pour oil on her sweet little dimples just above her suit waist, and up the indent down the center of her back, I smile to myself. She has given me a sign. "No more exploring today."
That little delay in stopping my exploring finger and that last little word means she is open for exploring tomorrow and the next day, and for the rest of the summer. She wants more. Oh yeah, she wants more.
The usual disclaimers apply. My stories are pure fantasy. Enjoy them. Do not try to emulate any characters. They are all figments of my overactive imagination, and do not exist in real life.
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The usual disclaimers apply. Do not attempt to emulate any of my characters, they are only figments of my overactive imagination.