Don't Ask, Don't Get

"Fuck's sake, can you stop staring at my tits, now?"

I smiled, and tried to stop imagining what it would feel like to slip my hand underneath the cloth and squeeze, gently. Then, to tug a little harder. Then, perhaps, to roll a hardening nipple between thumb and forefinger...

"Sorry," I said, my smile widening to a grin as I finally managed to regain control. "Although if you don't want people looking, you could try wearing more clothes."

"I don't mind people looking, just not you, you dirty old wanker."

I laughed, although there was no humour in her eyes.

"Old? Yes. Wanker? Yes. Dirty? No, actually. I've just had a shower," I said, attempting to raise a smile. Not that I cared either way, I just wanted a distraction so I could sneak a look further down her body. My eyes caught just a hint of camel toe: enough of a hint for my fertile imagination to fill the gaps, as in my head I immediately slipped a finger down behind the material and into what I imagined would be a soft, slick, hairless groove.

"Whatever. Are you gonna help me get out of here, or what?"

I blinked back to reality again.

"Sure. I can give you a leg up, if you want?" That would work very nicely. I'd hold my hands together for her to stand on, and boost her up onto the fence. Which meant I was sure to get a feel of the softness of her body against mine, and if I played it right then at some point I'd have her gorgeous soft, young arse only inches from my face. I could feel my dick moving again in anticipation.

Clearly, she'd reached the same conclusion. Which was why was looking at me like I was crazy.

"Ugh. Like I'm gonna let a pervert like you actually touch me. Ain't you got anything in your shitty garden I can stand on?"

I shook my head. I really hadn't.

"I guess you'll have to come back through the house," I offered.

Before Lauren could respond, Shannon appeared over the top of the fence, apparently balancing on the lounger Lauren had used to get up and over from the other side.

"The fuck's taking you so long?" she asked Lauren, before realising I was there. Then she laughed. "Oh, right. Is this the guy you were on about before?" She regarded me briefly, then giggled unpleasantly. "He does look a bit rapey, doesn't he?"

Lauren laughed, with no hint of embarrassment or apology.

"Yeah, rapey Reynolds, innit." She was fucking shameless, I had to give her that. Not that I took the insults personally. I figured they'd think any forty-year old, balding bloke who lived on his own was a creep. Hell, they were right. I was a creep. I'd just been knocking one out watching them play volleyball.

"I'm sure your mum wouldn't like it if she heard you saying things like that," I pointed out, although I knew full well that Amy Carter wouldn't give a shit.

Lauren looked at me contemptuously. "Hardly. She's the one what called you that in the first place, innit, after you was trying to look down her top the day we moved in. Now are you actually gonna let me out, or what?"

"Charming little thing, aren't you?" I said, sarcastically. "Come on, then. You can go out round the front."

"If I'm not back in five minutes, call the police," Lauren joked over her shoulder as she followed me towards the house.

Shannon laughed nastily, and disappeared back down behind the fence.

I opened the back door and held it for Lauren to go through first, like a gentleman. Of course, my intentions were less than honourable.

"No way," she said, refusing to go past. "I ain't having you walking behind me, staring at my arse."

Damn. Rumbled.

I led the way slowly through the kitchen and into the darker hallway, sizzling with frustration that I was so close to her, yet unable to keep enjoying the view. My mind was racing with possibilities, many of them likely to end in a prison term. But I had to do something, or else she'd just be walking out of my house with no more memories for me to revisit later on.

Fuck it. It was time to take a chance.

I stopped suddenly and turned around. In the narrow passage next to the staircase, I was effectively blocking her path. She managed to avoid running into me and instinctively took a step back, keeping her distance. The tension between us rose immediately. I wasn't even entirely sure what I was doing, but I just kind of ran with it anyway.

"So, look. Lauren, isn't it?"

I stole a glance down her body, looking at her curvy little tummy with its layer of excess flab and cheap gold piercing. My eyes roved further down, trying - and failing once again- to trace the outline of her intimate parts beneath the bikini bottoms.

"Wow, you know my name. You're a proper stalker. Now stop fucking perving at me and let me past, or I'll start yelling."

I could feel the devil in me coming to the fore. The gambler. The chancer. The you-only-live-oncer that was responsible for so many of my questionable decisions in life.

"Hang on a minute, don't start screaming yet," I said, hoping to sound reassuring. I doubted I sounded anything of the sort, but at least she stayed quiet for a moment. My heart started beating faster in anticipation. One last chance to back away. Yeah, right. Like that was ever going to happen. I gave in to my base instinct, and stared her straight in the eye.

"Okay, you're right. I am perving at you. Because I'm a massive fucking pervert, alright? A dirty old man. A tragic, lecherous old bloke whose wife has left him and who spends his day leering at teenage girls in bikinis."

She frowned, clearly taken aback by my directness. A flash of fear clouded her face momentarily, perhaps concerned that Rapey Reynolds was going to try to live up to his name. She had nothing to fear, on that front. Not really my style. But I didn't care if she believed it, just for a moment.

"But I'm something else, as well," I continued. "I'm cash rich, at least for today. Got lucky on the horses yesterday - accumulator came through for me. Took home a very big wad, last night."

"So?" she snorted, recovering slightly. I realised that I kind of liked the way her nose crinkled up in disgust. It softened the usual harshness of her expression. Hell, it was almost cute. "Am I supposed to be impressed?" she continued. "You're a sad old wanker living in a shitty council house, you ain't ever gonna be a player. The fuck you telling me this for, anyway?"

I smiled again. "I'm not trying to impress you, Lauren. I'm just saying how it is. I might not be a player. In fact, yeah, I'm a sad old wanker. But here's the thing. I've got cash in my pocket, right now..." I took a deep breath, and went for it. "And I'll give you twenty quid to show me your tits."

The words were out of my mouth before whatever was left of my conscience could get a hold of me. Impulse had overruled caution, as usual. The tension in the hallway went sky high. I felt the surge of adrenaline, just like I always did when I was pushing my luck.

Lauren was looking at me, mouth open. Silent, for once. I felt a spike of satisfaction that the gobby little cow actually had nothing to say to that.

Still, my heart was pounding, knowing that everything was balanced on a knife edge. Now was the time to laugh nervously and claim I'd been joking. Now was the time to stand aside, open the door and let her leave. Now was the time to step back from the precipice and avoid the headlong plunge into very dangerous waters.

Well, fuck that. I never had been very good at walking away from danger. It was time to double down, instead. I reached into my jeans pocket and pulled out the thick roll of notes I'd collected from my win at the bookies.

She made a disbelieving face, then recovered her voice.

"Oh my god. You're actually fucking serious, aren't you?"

"Uh huh," I nodded.

"What do you think I am, some kind of fucking slag?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

She actually looked shocked at that and went to push past me. "Fuck you, you sick old perv..."

I stepped back, avoiding contact with her but still blocking her path. "Hold on. Twenty quid is twenty quid, right? Just for a quick flash. Right here, right now."

My heart was pounding even harder, now. She'd stopped in her tracks, again, and I could see her processing the situation. That was good. That was unbelievably good, because it meant that - against the odds - she was actually thinking about my offer. I could sense what seemed like childish greed vying with her apparent disgust at what I was asking her to do.

I silently willed her on, peeling off a twenty from the roll just so she could see it. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she wrestled with the decision. I wasn't sure if they were actually tattooed on, or just made up to look like they had been. Either way, their neatness was as unnatural as her lashes. Not that it bothered me. I doubted she'd be naturally pretty underneath all the paint, but she looked nice enough done up as she was.

The moment stretched on. I actually started to shake with anticipation. She really was thinking about it. It actually might happen. And then, with a resigned sigh, she apparently made her decision.

"Give us the money, first."

Oh hell, yes. Fucking bingo! When you gamble big, you win big. And it looked like it really was going to be my lucky day. I smiled genuinely and held the note out for her.

She reached out and grabbed the twenty, then took advantage of my own distraction as I was returning the cash roll to my pocket, pushing past me in an instant, before bolting the last few yards to the front door. I was taken aback, but made no attempt to stop her.

"Haha, dickhead," she sneered, as her hand found the latch.

Mentally, I shrugged: you win some, you lose some. Although I hadn't lost yet. I knew the door was deadlocked.

She pulled at it, but it just rattled it in its frame. Frustrated, she banged on the wood with her fists. "Let me out of here, you fucking pervert!"

"Okay, sure. But I'll be needing my money back, if the deal's off."

She looked at the note clutched in her hand. I could almost see the calculations going through her head again.

"Come on. You clearly want that," I said, nodding to the twenty. "It's easy money. All you need to do is slip that bikini top down. I'll stare for a bit like the pervert I am, then you put it back on and I'll unlock the door. You leave, twenty quid richer."

I fished the keys out of my other pocket and jangled them at her. I felt my confidence building.

"Either way, that door doesn't open until I get titties or money. So, what'll it be?" I asked.

She struggled with the decision for a beat longer, then scowled at me.

"Fine, whatever," she sighed, then flipped down the material of her bikini top, tucking it underneath each breast.

Her action was sudden enough to stop my breath, as I realised I was staring at a pair of real, honest-to-god teenage tits. Sure, I'd seen tits before. Of course I had. I'd cast my eyes over some very fine young racks in my time. But this was somehow different. This was a girl I already knew. Sort of, anyway. And now she was standing in my hallway, flashing her lovely tanned chest at me.

I gorged on the sight. Just as I'd guessed, she didn't need any real support from the bikini; she was still young enough to possess natural gravity resistance. Her nipples were perfectly placed, with unexpectedly huge areolae that made me briefly wonder if some lad had already knocked her up. I didn't care. They were a fucking gorgeous sight. There was just the slightest hint of tan-line from the bikini - like most of the local girls, she'd clearly spent some quality nude time on a sunbed. Underneath her right breast was a small scripted tattoo. Live every moment. Right. I wasn't a fan of ink, but it was small enough not to detract from the overall appeal.

"Jiggle them for me," I said. My voice sounded strained. My cock was raging hard again.

"Piss off, you've seen 'em. That's enough," she said, swiftly rolling the material back up and tugging it back into place. The tanned flesh beneath barely moved. So fucking young, and so fucking firm. I really wanted to grab hold of them right there, but I knew that was way out of the question.

I jingled the keys again, shaking my head. My confidence continued to build.

"Uh uh. I need a little jiggle. Then you get to go."

"For fuck's sake," she sighed, rolling her eyes. But, to my surprise, she dutifully rolled down the material again and gently shook her chest. I watched, barely breathing, as her movement sent gentle ripples across her chest. Her nipples were just starting to harden slightly in the chill of the hallway, the delicious pink of those large areolae just beginning to wrinkle and darken. What would they feel like to run my tongue over, I wondered?

That thought was enough to prompt a pleasurable shiver, and my cock shifted uncomfortably in my pants, pushing hard against the restriction of my jeans. I saw Lauren glance at my crotch, then look away, clearly disgusted by the very evident bulge.

"Thank you," I smiled. "Now, do you definitely want to leave, or are you up for earning some more cash?"

She pulled up the bikini again, and shook her head.

"I ain't sucking your cock, if that's what you want."

It was a curious assumption. It made me wonder about what past experiences she'd had. And, indeed, what the potential might be for future experiences. I parked that thought and smiled, reassuringly.

"Fair enough. But I'll give you forty, if you strip off properly. Top and bottom."

"Forty? What, on top of this?" She said, waving my twenty back at me, disbelief written all over her face.

"Yeah. That's sixty quid you'll have earned. Just for flashing your tits and gooch to a dirty old man. Come on, I mean it's not like you've never got naked in front of a stranger before, is it? You kids do it all the time online, right?"

"Fuck off, you ain't taking no nudes of me. Anyway, that's different, innit. Boys need nudes first before you can get with them. And no fucking way am I getting with you."

"No photos. Just a look. With these..." I pointed to my eyes briefly, then dug out the roll of cash and began counting off the twenties.

Just like buying a car. Always let the seller see the cash.

It only took a moment longer for her to make the decision. She held out her hand for the money and I passed it across. I frowned, catching what seemed like a flash of desperation in her eyes as she seemed momentarily transfixed by the cash. Then the moment passed and she scrunched it up tightly in her right fist. It wasn't like she had anywhere else to put it, and clearly she didn't trust me enough to leave it on the floor.

"Alright. Get looking, then," she instructed.

Using the hand that wasn't holding the cash, she untied one side of the bikini top, slipping it off over an arm before discarding it on the carpet. Freed completely from their artificial restraint, her tits bounced gently. She really did have a cracking pair, I thought, but my attention was already further down her body, anticipating an even more special reveal. Without pausing, she tugged the bikini bottoms down one-handed and stepped out of them, then stood with hands on her hips, one leg slightly in front of the other.

"Happy now?" she asked.

"Very," I replied truthfully, and croakily. Right then, I was having difficulty speaking at all. Damn fucking straight I was happy. Teen pussy, right there, just feet away from me. This was shaping up to be a fucking historic day, and I knew I'd be knocking one out over this particular memory for years to come.

I ran my eyes over her body, barely believing what I was looking at. An eighteen-year old girl, fully nude, in the flesh, not five feet away from me. I felt my gaze drawn, inevitably, to the sweet spot between her legs. Unsurprisingly, there were no tan lines. Also unsurprisingly, she was fully shaved, although it had evidently been a few days since she'd carried out any maintenance as a dark triangle of stubble was just starting to show. She had a belly piercing, and a small butterfly tattoo just above the fuzz of tiny short hairs. With her legs slightly parted, I could see the beginnings of a sweet, neat-looking groove.

Fuck, that was hot. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my head. I felt dizzy with excitement.

Dizzy enough to push my luck even further.

I took a deep breath, unzipped my trousers, and allowed my erection to spring loose. Without hesitation, I began working my cock again. Lauren's reaction was immediate: a yelp of horror, and an immediate covering of herself. One arm in front of her breasts - her fist still gripping my cash tightly, one hand shielding her intimate parts between her legs.

"Seriously, like, what the actual fuck?" she exclaimed, looking like she might throw up.

"Relax. I'm just enjoying the view."

"Oh my god, that is so gross." I was disappointed to see that she wasn't looking at my cock. In fact, she was looking anywhere but there. But at least she wasn't screaming and banging on the wall for Shannon to come and rescue her.

"Come on. Another forty, just to stand there whilst I finish."

She shook her head, but I could see in her eyes that the decision was still to make. And in the end, I knew it would come down to the numbers.

"Do the maths. That's a hundred quid, Lauren. Think what you could buy with that. And all you need to do is just stand there looking bored for a few minutes."

She looked uncertain for a moment, then I caught a hint of that curious desperation again before she suddenly reached forward and grabbed the cash once more. With it safely in her grasp she tucked both hands behind her back, as if protecting her hard-earned from me. I didn't care. With her back up against the front door, it meant she was fully exposed; her arms pushing her lower body out slightly so I had an even better view between her legs.

"Fine, go on then, have a fucking wank. I don't care," she said, resignedly. "You'd better hurry up though. Shannon will wonder what's going on."

I didn't need any further encouragement. I locked my eyes between her legs and squeezed harder on my cock. It didn't take me long to get back in the rhythm. She really did have a sweet looking pussy. Okay, it wasn't exactly smooth, but I didn't have my face in it so that hardly mattered. And the stubble didn't extend messily onto her thighs, or stretch far up to her belly button. It was just a neat triangle of shadow. I figured she'd still look hot with a nice natural bush down there, even if she didn't shave at all.

I pumped away for barely a couple of minutes, lost in a fantasy of touching and tasting her, switching my gaze between those lovely round tits and their improbably large areola, that just-a-bit-too-curvy tummy and that sexy, tight-looking groove. It wasn't long before I felt my balls begin to tighten. All thoughts of saving myself for the evening were gone - all I could think of was how far I could go with this girl in front of me. It was time to find out.

"Kneel down," I suggested, breathlessly. "Let me come on your tits."

Lauren made another look of horror. "Ugh, no fucking way. I'm having to stand here looking at an old man wanking. That's bad enough. I don't want your dirty old man jizz on me."

"Another hundred," I panted. That was a ridiculous amount of cash, really. I knew it made me sound desperate, but right then I was. And hey, in for a penny, in for a pound, right?

"A hundred?" She looked at me sceptically.

I switched hands, gently stroking myself with my left whilst I reached into my pocket for the roll of notes again. I tried to fumble more twenties from underneath the elastic with one hand, but it was no good. I reluctantly released my cock, then peeled off the right amount from the roll and threw the notes towards her so I could get back to wanking. She gathered them up from the floor and screwed them tightly in her fist, then backed up against the door again, making no move towards me. I realised I'd made a strategic error, as she now had the money and no reason to actually comply with my request. It looked like I'd just lost another ton for nothing.