Just the Helper I was Looking For

JUST THE HELPER I WAS LOOKING FOR

PART I

I often wonder if I am a sort of less detestable Humbert Humbert, lost in the haze of lust but not so far gone as to commit grave sins. She might say otherwise, but I doubt it.

I suppose the problem began while sitting on my front porch watching the girls walk to class at the Catholic High School up the road. It was something pleasant to do before I began my day at the computer, typing out my thousand words a day. You see, being a writer gives one license to observe. And observe I did.

My hanging bench rocked back and forth as I waved good morning to the girls. Many of them would turn and giggle to their friends, their hands flashing to cover their mouths. Occasionally one of the them would turn and wave back, "Good morning, Mr. B!" It brought me a small sense of satisfaction that they knew my name. One of my books was taught in the modern literature class, though I believe it had to have been bowdlerized because no nun I knew would let some of the steamier bits be read out loud. I wasn't going to argue. Maybe they'd buy the uncensored version when they're older.

The morning I 'met' her started out the same as usual. The gaggle of girls would turn the corner and march up the slightly ascending street, I'd watch them and wave. But there was one who walked a little further behind the crowd. Like the others, she was wearing the gray and blue pleated plaid skirt and white blouse uniform, with the school's shield embroidered in blue and silver above her right breast. I noticed the shield because the silver threads reflected in the morning light and caught my attention, like scintillations off of a placid summer lake. It was then that I noticed I could see her nipple through the material of the blouse. I caught myself staring, but she also caught me. I could see a small, wry smile form on her lips. She walked on.

I sat in my swing and waited until they all had shuffled into the hallowed brick halls of the school. I waited because I realized that I had become hard from that short glimpse of her. I felt taken aback, like I had committed a crime. Surely this schoolgirl was completely unaware that this almost 40-year-old pervert would be turned on by some sheer fabric and a missing bra. I walked inside and made myself a cup of tea. Try as I might, I couldn't get the image of her smile out of my head.

The next morning, I repeated my daily routine. I waved to the girls. I smiled. I waited with anticipation for the one that I found so alluring to also make her pass. But I didn't see her. I felt disappointed, until I heard steps coming around the corner. There she was - the same immaculate uniform, patent leather shoes shined so bright they glowed. My eyes followed up her legs, from her white ankle socks with little ruffles, to her well-turned calves, a hint of thigh glimpsed below the hemline. I looked at her face, beautiful honey colored skin framed by her long, nearly black wavy hair. She had pinks lips and brown eyes - brown eyes that looked into mine. It was then that she dropped the book she was carrying. I watched her as she turned slightly away from me and bent over to pick it up. She didn't squat, she bent over as if she were trying to touch her toes. My eyes hungrily followed up her legs and to up her skirt. Her white cotton panties covered her beautiful ass like two crescent moons hovering in some dreamscape sky. I looked and looked and realized that she was taking a long time to retrieve that book. She then suddenly stood upright, glanced over at me (with my jaw hanging down), winked and proceeded to bounce away with a little skip.

I watched her walk into the school. I got up and used the newspaper I had been reading as a shield for the hard member making a pronounced tent in my pants. Safely inside I ran into my bathroom and pulled my pants down to my ankles. I furiously stroked my cock. I imagined her bent over in front of me, moving that perfect ass of hers back and forth. I could picture her slowly lowering her panties until I could see the cleft of her sex...I pictured moving close to her, using my fingers to gently touch her - I was overwhelmed. I came in big spurts into and onto my toilet. The intensity of my orgasm was incredible. Panting, I swore at myself for being a horrible pervert, "how can you jack off to a schoolgirl, you sicko!" But despite my higher-level self and its cogent admonitions, I knew that I wanted to see where this surprising flirtation would go. I wanted to see how far she would go...but I really wanted to see how far I would go

The next day was Saturday. Normally I would be looking forward to a day away from my computer screen. I would run my errands, go out to lunch, perhaps catch a movie downtown. But the day seemed less bright knowing that class was not in session. I lay in bed thinking impure thoughts about the girl. What was her name? Why was she teasing me? How old was she! I soon tired of my ruminations and got up and showered. I knew I needed to take a walk and get some fresh air. The day was clear and bright, perfect weather. I set out down my street and around the corner towards where all of the bright Catholic angels appeared in the mornings. I looked up and noted the clouds, full cumulus with high altitude wisps against in impossibly blue sky. I felt calm. I felt refreshed. I felt myself walk into someone.

I stumbled back and felt hot liquid against my chest. In front of me was the girl; I bumped right into her, sending her cup of Starbuck's coffee into the air and onto our clothes. "Oh my God, I am so sorry! I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. Are you ok?" I was worried that the coffee might have scalded her skin. She looked up at me, not with anger, but a sort of serene grace. "It's ok Mr. B, there wasn't much left in the cup. I think my shirt is pretty much ruined though." I looked down at her pink and white baby doll shirt, soaked through across her chest in a spreading umber stain. I didn't know what to do except to offer her a chance to come to my house and clean up. I didn't think it would be inappropriate, just trying to be kind. I was surprised when she said, "sure, thank you so much. Lead the way."

She put her arm in mine and we walked back up the street towards the house. She clutched my arm tightly, and I felt myself turn warm. "So, uh, what's your name? I've seen you and your friends walk by so many times but I've never imagined I'd be able to put names to the faces." She looked up at me with her brown eyes shining in the sun, "My name is Catherin." She volunteered more information, "I'm a senior at the All-Girls Catholic School. I know your name from your book. I really enjoyed reading it. I got my copy from the bookstore, which was a little different than the one we read from in class. I wonder why that is?" She giggled a little bit and looked down at her feet. I was deeply charmed. "Well, I am glad you liked the book. Though I might say it's a little adult for someone your age."

"My age?! I will have you know I just turned 18 years old! I'm not as young as I look Mister." Suddenly I felt a shameful sense of relief. Thank God.

"Well, here's my place. Come on up the porch and I'll let you in." She waited while I unlocked the door, humming a tune I couldn't identify. "I hope you're not allergic to cats." Her face broke out into a grin, "I LOVE kitties! I have two myself."

One of my cats came sauntering over, his big poof of a belly almost dragging on the floor. "That's Hobbs, he loves strange women." She knelt down and began to pet his orange fur. "I love him already" she said. "Well, here is the bathroom. You can clean up in there. Would you like me to make you some tea or maybe have a Coke? I feel bad about ruining your caffeine fix." She stood up and looked over at the bathroom, "sure I would love a Coke. Let me go clean up. Be out in a sec." I looked at the cat sitting on the floor of the living room with envious eyes and then walked into the kitchen to pour her a glass of soda. Suddenly she called out, "Mr. B, can you come here? I think I need some help."

She was there at the bathroom door holding a towel, drying her face and neck. Hanging from the shower rod was her shirt, soaking wet. "What happened?" She looked at me with surprise. "I thought it would be easier to take the shirt off and clean up that way, but when I sat it on the edge of the sink, I bumped it with my elbow and it fell in the toilet. Why don't you put your seat down!" I began to laugh. "Sorry, I'm a man. We forget to sometimes!" It was at this moment that I realized she wasn't wearing her shirt. Once she finished drying off, she placed the towel on the sink. She was wearing a light-blue bra with lace trim. Her jeans were below her belly button and her skin was just a little lighter across her tummy than her face. Of course, she noticed me looking.

"Mr. B! Please, I just came here to clean up, not to get ogled by you." I nodded and looked away, but I knew that she wasn't as shy as she was playing. "Sorry! I rarely entertain beautiful young women in my bathroom, you know." She blushed a little. "Do you think I'm beautiful Mr. B? What makes me beautiful?" I could hear in her voice the slightest bit of longing. "Well, you're very beautiful. Your skin is beautiful. Your eyes are beautiful. Your voice is beautiful. Your belly button is beautiful." She laughed and covered her tummy with her hands. "I suspect that you're beautiful inside too." At that she turned around and looked in the mirror over the sink. She was checking to make sure her makeup wasn't too mussed. "Mr. B, I think you're beautiful too." I coughed a little bit. "I love your graying hair. I love to see you wave at me with your big hands. I love the tenor of your voice. I love your writing." I was taken aback.

She turned back to look at me. "I love your eyes; they seem to change color in the light." I swallowed hard and my palms started to sweat. "Mr. B, do you like my breasts? I think they're a little small compared to some of the other girls at school, but I notice that boys seem to look at them when I wear a low-cut top." I felt like my throat had gone dry. That I would be a mute for the rest of my life. What could I tell her? I told her the truth. "Uh, your breasts are very beautiful. They are perfect handfuls to be honest." With that she took my hands into hers and lifted them up. She placed them over her bra, "well, tell me if they are perfect handfuls then." I took the hint. I gently squeezed them, I pretended to weigh them in my hands. Under the thin material of the bra cups, I could feel her nipples begin to harden. "Well they are in fact perfect." She moved my hands away, which made me feel like I had lost a limb. But she reached behind her back and unfastened the bra and pulled it off to let it drop on the floor.

They were perfect. Like God had sent down a fully illustrated development model of what breasts should look like. I was so impressed I held my breath. She laughed and blushed deeply pink. I stepped forward and placed both globes in my hands. She took a sharp breath, "your hands are so warm, almost hot." I looked at her face, she was surprised and shy at the same time. I began to use my thumbs to rub her nipples in circles, feeling the dark brown flesh harden under them. She closed her eyes and murmured something about how good it felt, but I was so turned on that I immediately put her right nipple in my mouth and began to suck. Her eyes opened wide and she pushed me away. "Woah! Slow down Mr. B, that's a little too far today."

II.

I was chastened by her forcefulness and more than a little shocked at my own behavior. I realized that I had allowed my baser nature to take over, and I was afraid that she would be angry - or worse. She stared at me with intensity and then reached up to pinch her erect nipple, still glistening with my saliva. "Mr. B, umm, thank you for letting me come in and clean up." I watched as she absentmindedly twisted the brown nub with her thumb and forefinger. "I, uh, need to get going. I promised to meet a friend at the bookstore downtown." She didn't seem to be in any kind of hurry and I was incredibly turned on. My cock was throbbing and I know she noticed it too, but I stood still a couple of feet away from her, not wanting to overstep her bounds.

With a deepening blush she realized that she was touching herself and quickly bent down to pick up her bra. "Catherin, I hope I didn't scare you, I'm a gentleman - I promise..." but before I could say any more, she finished putting on her bra and pulled her still-damp top on over her head. "Mr. B, no worries. I enjoyed that...a lot." She bit her lower lip and quickly bounced out of the bathroom. I followed her to the living room. She was already at the front door and about to step out. "Hey, if you want to come by again, I'm always looking for a literary helper, you know, for proofreading and idea bouncing." I knew it sounded like a lame excuse to get her back into my home, but she smiled and said, "That sounds lovely. See you soon." She swiveled her hips as she strutted out the door, again leaving me with my mouth hanging open and a hard-on to deal with. All I could think about was having her back within my reach. I also couldn't shake the feeling that I might be getting myself into a lot of trouble.

Sunday arrived with the tolling of bells. I am a Catholic, or least I try to be one. However, I have never been comfortable with confession as a requirement for communion. My sins are between me and God, especially because I commit so many of them. So, out to my porch I went, watching the well-dressed families arriving and departing the beautiful red brick church. I looked for Catherin, but I didn't know if she attended the church next to the school or not. In fact, I didn't know anything about her except her age and even that I couldn't be completely sure of.

I heard her before I saw her, laughing along with a small group of teenagers; a mix of boys and girls, they were coming from the direction of the church. There was a boy with her, one of those tall and gangly boys that had just started to realize they were potential objects of desire for girls like Catherin. I hated him instantly. In a brief heat of jealousy, I called out to her, "Catherin! How was church?" She looked at me, perhaps a bit startled to hear me yell across the street at her. Her friends looked in my direction and she said something to them. They smiled and said goodbye as she jogged over to my porch. "Hiya Mr. B! How are you today?" She had a blush to her skin. "I'm doing well thank you. How was church?" She looked down for a moment and said "I was preoccupied, I found it hard to follow the sermon. For some reason all I could think about was a warm, wet mouth on my titties." I swallowed hard and invited her inside.

I opened the door and she walked in ahead of me. She was wearing a mid-length black skirt, white blouse and a light gray cardigan. Very proper, very conservative church-going clothes. However, all I could think about was what was underneath all of them. I followed close behind her, when she stopped suddenly in the middle of my living room; like the day before I bumped into her. She was anticipating this and stumbled forward in an exaggerated fashion over the back my couch. She giggled and apologized for her clumsiness. But instead of getting up, she wiggled her butt back and forth. "Mr. B, can you do me a favor?" At this point I was willing to do anything she asked.

"Of course, what can I do for you?" She kept wiggling. "I think I might've pulled a muscle when you knocked me over...can you rub my calf? It feels like I'm getting a charley horse." She giggled as she said it. I could feel my heart beating in my chest. "Ok, just let me know where to rub." I knelt behind her. I could smell her perfume and the hem of her skirt was at eye level. I knew she wasn't really injured, so instead of asking her which leg, I just began with the left one. Her skin was exceptionally smooth, her calf muscle well defined. I used both hands to caress her, to gently kneed her flesh. She sighed. "Mr. B, that feels so good! But now I feel like the pain is going up my leg." She parted her legs slightly and using both hands hiked up her skirt to just below the rind of her ass. I ran my hands up her calf and past her knee, gently sliding them up her thigh to just before I got to the top, when I would slide them back down her leg again. I decided to use just the tips of my fingers and I could feel goosebumps rise on her skin. Her breathing became a little irregular. "Are you ok Catherin? Does this hurt?" I knew it didn't. "No Mr. B, it feels so...different. Like I'm being tickled by ten feathers. I ran my hand up the inside of her thigh, where my it brushed against silky fabric. I waited to see what her reaction would be. I could tell she tensed up ever so slightly, and I didn't want to press my advantage. She stood upright, turned around, and let her skirt fall back down to cover the lands I had been exploring.

"Hmm, you know Mr. B, I want to show you something, but I don't want you to laugh, ok?" Not laugh? I would jump off a cliff if she asked me to. "Of course! What is it?" I remained in the same position, looking up at her with anticipation. I noticed her makeup, understated but with a beautiful dark lipstick that drew my eyes to her lips. She was so beautiful. "Ok, remember you promised not to laugh!" She pulled on her skirt, rolling it up with her hands. She was wearing bright red panties with a delicate lace trim. I could tell the crotch of them was damp and I could see the outline of her sex. "Well, what do you think?" She looked briefly at me and then away, embarrassed. I assumed she was asking about the panties. "They're absolutely beautiful! You look great in them, incredibly sexy!" She blushed. "I bought them for you. I didn't know if you would ever see them actually. You know all my other underwear are plain cotton." I could tell she was nervous. I reassured her. "I love them, you made an excellent choice!"

Her excellent choice was holding my deep attention. She began to unroll the skirt back down when I put my hands out and stopped her. I didn't want to scare her, but I wanted so badly to feel that wet patch of silk with my fingers. She looked at me but didn't say a word as I reached out and ran a finger from the bottom of the gusset up to the top of her cleft. I could feel her shudder. I did it again, from the top down. I rubbed the outside of her pussy through the material, working my way to her clit. She was breathing heavy, and she opened her legs even more. I felt an overwhelming urge to fuck her. I wasn't about to take her against her will, but I was willing to push both our boundaries. I grabbed the waist of the panties with both hands and tugged them down. She was shocked, but again said nothing.

Her pussy was incredible. She didn't shave which I found very sexy. Her lips were pink and swollen with excitement. I pulled her closer to me and I ran my tongue over her slit and pushed it between her lips to find her clit. It was hard and delicious. I began to lick it in circles, going down to lap up her juices and then back to the nub. She was moaning now, even panting. I stopped licking for a second. "Catherin, I want you to pull out your titties and play with them while I do this, like a good girl." In a seeming daze, she pulled off her sweater and blouse and lifted the cups of her bra off to expose her thick, hard nipples. Her brown fingers went to work, tugging and twisting them. I went back to licking her clit. I sucked on it gently and her breathing became intense. "Mr. B, uh, Mr. B, I am going to cum soon." I stopped sucking and began to lick harder. She grabbed my head and shoved it into her mound. "Fuck! Fuck! I'm cumming!" She thrust her hips into my face, humping my tongue. I could feel her wetness flood my face. "Oh my God!" I let her ride me until I pulled my mouth away to catch my breath.