Little Helpers/Chapter One

Little Helpers

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Chapter One

It’s beyond me why I volunteer to help people with their repairs. Maybe it’s a latent masochistic streak that reared its ugly head now and then. But, I liked to believe it’s because I’m a nice person. We all enjoy appreciation. Without fail, though, it always gets me into trouble. Either I don’t know enough about the job I help friends with, or unforeseen complications arise.

Like today when my neighbour Emma asked me to unblock the drain in her kitchen basin. Simple job, right? Wrong! I spent two hours working through all the normal cures before it occurred to me that I needed to remove a portion of the soil pipe and have a look.

Bad move for me. The pipes were ancient and wouldn’t wrench apart. So, what happened? The pipe broke and now I must replace two, maybe three sections now. Bugger!

Emma left me alone to my work while she went on a shopping expedition. Her girls stayed in their rooms and entertained themselves in whatever way girls their age do. At least until they became so bored they needed to find something, or someone like me, to entertain them.

It was Jean, the ten year old who became bored first. She crouched next to me while I worked under the basin and attempted to wrestle a pipe joint loose with the trusty, but poorly made wrench I picked up at the ASDA in the next town. It looked good on the shelf and even felt good in the hand. However, I should learn more about tools before I invest in them.

It was a bit distracting the way the girl would “Ew” and “Ahhh” every so often. I slipped and the wrench almost flew from my grasp and smacked the poor girl. I looked up and was about to ask her to move away when I noticed something.

She had neglected her knickers and my eyes instantly locked on her gaping split. It struck me like a blow to the chest, I had trouble breathing and lost my voice. The glistening slot opened to a very pink, damp little valley. Try as I may to divert my eyes, they simply would not follow my instructions.

The worst part was she knew exactly what I was looking at and took pleasure in the show. Problem number two decided to make himself evident in my pants and when she noticed the tent, she giggled and flashed me a very rude and naughty smile. It was pure evil.

Mother Mary, the girl’s only ten years old and she’s teasing me with her pussy. I believe they must learn early. It’s in their genes; that teasing the male until his balls turn blue thing.

After my voice returned, I asked, “Jean, did you forget your knickers? You know I can see everything you have down there.”

She snapped her knees together in false modesty and exclaimed, “Didn’t have any new ones they’re in the wash,” which was an unlikely excuse.

There was more than a little glint of the devil in her eye as she slowly opened her legs again, and she asked, “Do you like it?”

“Love, I’m afraid I do like what you’re showing me, but you shouldn’t. It does things to me.”

“Your willy went hard. I can see it in your trousers.”

“Let’s change the subject. I can’t work and you’re way too young for me.”

“I am not… huff… too young. Mary’s my age and she does it. She lets the boys put their thing in… inside her… you know, down there,” and she pointed between her legs.

“Jean, love, you’re not Mary. Run along to your room or go pester your sister. I need the loo.”

The poor girl’s face fell like I had taken her favourite dolly from her and ripped the head off. Her lip quivered as she jumped to her feet and ran from the room. I slowly got to my feet and made my way to the bath so I could deal with the problem that had planted itself in my pants.

“Jeez,” I told myself, “If I got a leg over more often I probably wouldn’t prop a tent so easily. Ten years old, but a very nice pussy.”

I held my hand over the front of my trousers, ran up the stairway to the bog and closed the door behind me. No sense in giving the girls more entertainment. However, it seemed awfully impolite to wank in my neighbour’s bath, but I had to put Misses Palm and her five lovely sisters to work on the problem now.

My trousers had no sooner settled around my ankles and had taken a good grip on myself, when I heard a giggle. The door was cracked and I knew I had an audience. Now, my dilemma, so I asked myself, “Should I give the girls a show, or leave?”

I’m sure they wanted to watch or wouldn’t have peeked in the door, but I didn’t know if wanted them to. So, I pulled my trousers up and heard the patter of bare little feet trample down the corridor. With a stiff third leg, I quickly made my way back to my place.

I couldn’t get the vision of pink loveliness out of my head. The sweet picture was better than any fantasy I could conjure. In less than a dozen strokes my little wigglers dribbled down the back wall.

“Wow,” I thought, “that had to be the best I’ve come in ages. Maybe I should visit the Inn tonight and find a skirt I can chat it up with. Maybe relieve more of the pressure in my bag before it got out of hand.”

I quickly pulled my clothes back on and made my way across the garden to finish my work before Emma returned. The broken pieces of pipe did not look good, but I gathered them together and made my way to the ironmongers.

They had no problem finding tidy replacements for me, and even fitted me with a better tool for the job. So, with one mission accomplished, I quickly returned to my task to sort it out. While I finished tightening the joint in place, Sara, that was Jean’s nine year old sister, joined me and took up her sister’s former position and stance. I had to look under her dress and breathed a sigh of relief because she had her knickers on. A bit thin and tightly stretched across her prominent mound, but no glistening pink was evident.

So, I popped out with, “Did you girls enjoy peeping at me?”

The crimson rose up her neck and blushed her cheeks scarlet, as she glanced at the floor to avoid my eyes. Then she asked, “You won’t go mad at us, will you? It was Jean’s idea. I just wanted to see what it looked like.”

“No, love, I’m not mad at you. I know girls are curious about such things, but there is a privacy issue. I shut the door to avoid prying little eyes.”

“I won’t do it again, I swear, even if Jean tells me to. Can I ask you… something…,” without waiting for my permission, she continued, “Doesn’t it get uncomfortable? The thing was huge.”

“Sara, it doesn’t stay like that all of the time. Your sister did something that made it go hard.”

“I know. She told me she showed you her fanny, hee, hee, hee. Can I ask you something else… why do boys, err, men like to look at girls down there? Isn’t it kind of nasty looking?”

“They probably like to look because they are curious… like some naughty girls I know,” and let out a little chuckle, which relieved some of the tension in the air.

“Can you show me again? Just if you want to ‘cause I didn’t get a proper look. You can look at me. I’ll show you and you can even touch it if you want.”

“Maybe, love, but not now. I think you’ve seen too much already.”

My sentiment never reached my lower regions. I’m afraid my prick liked the idea of showing himself off, even if she was only nine years old.

“It’s pushing down your trouser leg,” she observed, then reached out and grasped me. My prick jumped in her hand, and she quickly pulled away, like it had burned her, and exclaimed, “It moved.”

“He likes to be touched. Now run along and play with your dollies. You’ve received way too much of an education today.” But, she didn’t obey but tentatively stroked my throbber, and when it jumped again, she grabbed and held it. Then I jumped at the contact and groaned.

She quickly pulled her hand away and asked, “I didn’t hurt it, did I? I just wanted to feel what it’s like.”

“No, love, it felt good,” which was the wrong thing to say. I should have held my ground and made her leave like I had intended, but she held onto me, squeezed it hard and said, “I thought it was like a stick but it’s only hard in the middle. Show me please, I really want to see it.”

My resolve vanished and my balls complained that they were full up again. My little man spoke for me and told her, “Let’s go to your room so I can show it to you.”

She took hold of my hand and practically dragged me by the heels up to her room, latched her door and then put her hands on her hips and gave me that devilish smile of hers. All the while my cock twitched and begged to be freed from his prison.

“Déjà vu,” I thought as my trousers fell to my ankles, maybe I should have wanked in their bath so they could watch. At least it would have assuaged some of the curiosity and I wouldn’t be here.

Then she grasped me again and I groaned again because it felt so good but she knew it was not in pain. In a confidential whisper she asked, “Does your thing feel good like when I touch myself down there?”

“Love, you have no idea how good your hand feels when you touch yourself,” I told her.

It was hard for me to believe how fast I gave in and dropped my trousers for her. Then she released me and tugged my pants down so they joined the puddle around my ankles.

I was paralyzed and couldn’t budge a muscle while I watched her wrap both hands around my cock and squeeze. She pushed her face in close and moved him around so she could examine every detail. It felt so good my knees shook and I sat on her bed but she quickly followed me to her knees and didn’t release me for an instant. I would say she was happy to play with her new toy so I guided her hands up and down the shaft which was terribly pleasurable.

“If we keep this up my juice is going to squirt,” I warned her.

“I know, Jean told me all about it,” she replied and pulled out a flannel and told me, “You can squirt on this,” and then unassisted this time, she wanked me like a pro. “Jean’s going to be super jealous when I tell her I got to do it.”

“Fuck me,” I gasped as great gouts of slimy goo shot into the air, but what does my little love do? She aimed me at her face and a thick rope hit her between the eyes and another on her lips and chin and she started giggling.

“That was fun,” she retorted while she squeezed and milked me dry, just like she did it all of the time. She looked so lovely with my sperm plastered to her face it made me groan when she asked, “You are going to let me do it again, aren’t you?”

“Of course you can, love.” Who was I to deny such a polite request?

However, little did I know that I had released a Genie from the magic bottle and a very nice one at that.

End Chapter One

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