Neighborhood Pervert--Clair (Page 1)

by Leslie Schmidt

The first thing I do when I get to work, even before checking that the server is still up, is get the coffee going—then I check the server. The reason I show up at 5 AM is to make sure the system is ready for the days work. Most people don’t show up until 8:30, so I have two and a half hour pretty much to myself until the trouble calls start.

Assuming the system is still up, next I check that the backups went as scheduled, then I look over the logs for any problems. I’m supposed to tell my boss if anyone’s been spending too much time on facebook or surfing porn sights, but I’m also supposed to use my own judgment. Of course, I did tell them about the secretary who was running her own Mary Kay business on the company systems, and occasionally I do see a porn site hit, but I don’t say anything unless NOT telling could get me in trouble.

The logs also show any security problems—usually blocked malware, and the occasional virus. They also tell me if any unauthorized hardware has been installed. I can see that someone plugged in a flash drive—no problem there—but we need keep people from bringing in their own computers.

This day there was an extra drive on one of the machines. I went to Charlie Roth’s cubical expecting to see a flash drive but, instead, there was a removable hard drive. After filling my cup for the third time, I just couldn’t help but snoop from my shop.

The drive had his iTunes. No real problem there, but I couldn’t resist the temptation to look around. Seems he’d been working some at home, I decided not to hack his Quicken file, and the My Photos file had the usual family pics. Quite a few of his cute daughter (I’d seen her at the Christmas Party). One of the pictures was of her birthday party where she blew out seven candles. It was kind of cool, pictures of her growing up from a newborn, even a couple of his wife when she was pregnant. Now, there was a little boy also. He was probably three.

At the bottom of the menu was a hidden file. When I came up without permissions—well that was a challenge. Twenty seconds in Active Directory and I had permission.

The first picture was of a newborn getting a bath. She still had a clamp on the umbilical. Moving on, well, I got out my own flash drive and started copying. Then, when she was around three she was laying on a bed, her knees against her shoulders, a laugh on her face and a clam and belly all smeared with sperm. In the last picture, taken only three days ago, she was showing a pool of white on her tongue while a drop stretched off her chin to join the others on her chest.

I closed the file and remotely rebooted his machine—then I sat back to think….

About 9:30 I ran into him.

“Hey Charlie,” I said, looking around the break room to make sure we were alone, “the system warned me that you left your portable drive in your computer over the weekend.”

“Oh,” he looked up from pouring a cup of coffee. “Is that a problem? I thought we could use them.”

“No, it’s just that,” I looked around again, “you have some really awesome pictures of Claire on it…might not want them to get around.”

I watched as his face went from shock to fear to anger and back to fear in about five seconds. “Nothing wrong, just some people won’t be as…hmmm…what should I say…interested…in a good way…as I am.”

He took on a nervous smile. “You liked them then?”

Again I looked over my shoulder. “Yeah. Hope you don’t mind that I looked. Got any more?”

The nervous smile morphed into a nervous grin. “Yeah,” he paused, then relaxed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Someone else walked in and Charlie started for the door. I followed him into the hallway. “I’ve always thought Claire was an awfully cute kid.”

“Uh huh,” he replied. “I noticed you spent a lot of time with her at the picnic.”

“I like being with children, that’s all.”

We stopped at the door to the cubical area where he worked. “Especially girls,” he said.

“Am I that obvious?”

“I guess it takes one to know one,” he said with a grin.

The next afternoon, just before I was going to leave, he came into the shop and handed me a CD. “Something you’ll be interested on there.”

“Cool,” I responded.

“Sandy and I were wondering if you’d be willing to come over for dinner. She’s got a laptop that’s completely screwed up, boots to a blue screen, then the start up repair thing comes on and seems to lock up.”

I got to their house right at 6:30 the next evening. Sandy opened the door.

“Hi Mat, nice to see you again,” she said as I came in. “Charlie’s on the deck out back. Can I give you a beer?”

“Sure,” I replied and followed her into the kitchen.

She took a beer out of the fridge and opened it, then handed it to me. “The door’s through the dining room,” she nodded the way. “Dinner’ll be a few minutes more, go keep Charlie company.”

It was just cool enough to make you think about wearing a jacket, but that was made up for by a really nice view over the roofs of the neighborhood and the sun just getting tangled up with the buildings of down town. None of them could be called ‘sky scrapers’ but the sunset was nice.

“Wow, you’ve got a nice place here,” I said when I came out. It had been a few months since I’d been there, the deck was a new addition.

“Yeah,” Charlie looked up from his chase lounge. “I built this deck over the summer—knocked out that wall for the door. Can’t see this from the yard, only up here.

“Really nice,” I responded as I sat down.

There was the clomping and vibration as someone came up the stairs from the yard. Claire appeared at the railing.

“Say hi to Mr. Rawlens, dear,” Charlie said. “Remember, he’s taught you fishing at the company picnic a few months ago.

“Hi,” she said.

“You really started something with her there,” he said to me. “She’s turned into quite an angler—we go fishing on the lake almost once a week now.”

“Yeah! Last week I caught a five pound bass!” the second grader held her hands up showing me the length.

“Wow, that’s quite a fish!” I said. “Maybe you can teach me something about fishing.”

“You want to go this weekend?” Charlie asked her.

Claire walked over to her father and swung her leg over the lounge, then sat down on his lap, facing him, straddling his hips. She casually draped her arms around his neck.

“That’d be fun,” she said in a strangely alluring tone—the sort of thing you’d expect from a wife or girlfriend. Then she leaned forward and kissed him, a kiss that lasted just a few moments longer than was proper for a father and daughter. Maybe most people wouldn’t have caught it, but I did.

Charlie looked at me with a knowing smile. “I think she’s trying to bribe me,” he said.

“Well, I’ll take her fishing if you won’t,” I said.

Charlie looked directly at me. “OK with me if she wants to.”

Claire’s hazel eyes flared. “Can I?”

We both laughed, knowing the girl hadn’t picked up on the full meaning.

“Sure you can, if Mr. Rawlens’ll have you.”

“In a heartbeat,” I said, looking directly at Charlie.

Throughout dinner there was just a strange innuendo—an undercurrent in the conversation. Things like Sandy saying, “I can tell that Claire really likes you,” and Charlie mentioning that it was such a long drive to their in-laws when they wanted a “weekend alone.” The again, Sandy saying that she was “sure Claire would live to go fishing with you.”

I was putting my jacket on to leave at about 8:30 when Sandy said, “Claire wants to say goodbye.” She’d been sent off to the bath a few minutes earlier. My blood pressure was really going up but then she came running around the corner in PJs. Still, feeling her little frame through the flimsy fabric gave me a surge in the jeans.

It was just the next morning that Charlie asked if I’d be willing to watch Claire sometime when Sandy and he wanted to get away for a weekend.

“Sure, I’d love it!” I said, pushing back in my chair.

“She’s usually really well behaved and you’ll have no problem getting her to bed,” he said. Just a couple of hours later he asked whether THIS weekend would be OK.

She appeared on my doorstep at 8:30AM Saturday morning with a bag in one hand and a fishing pole in the other. After the appropriate niceties with Charlie and Sandy, they backed out of the driveway, promising to be back by 4 on Sunday and to call with the number of the hotel they’d be staying in up in the mountains, taking in the fall colors.

I rented a canoe and we fished on the city reservoir for a few hours. By lunch time we had enough pan fish for lunch. Claire helped my clean them at the dock, then they went into a plastic bag for the short drive home.

That afternoon I took her to a matinee of the latest animated kid’s movie. As soon as I’d sat down she climbed into my lap. At first she sat cross-wise but eventually ended up sitting with her knees outside mine. The feeling of her skinny torso and light weight made certain parts swell under her. She moved her butt back and forth against my cock, then looked over her shoulder with a smile. Over a little while I moved one of my hands down onto her thigh but, when I started moving it up while also pressing in between her legs she leaned back and turned her head.

“Not here,” she whispered, putting her hand on mine, “someone will see.”

I haven’t described Claire except to mention her hazel eyes. She was, then, seven, about to turn eight. But, she was really very small for her age. She was still a few inches shy of four feet and certainly didn’t’ top 40 pounds by much, so I’d guess that, even though she was in the second grade, there were still more than a few first graders that were bigger than she. There were a few gaps in her bite, when we met at the picnic she was missing both front teeth but they were about half in by now.

She was also skinny—and boney. There was no fat to smooth out her ribs, hips, or the thin muscles of her legs and arms.

Her face was cute—but that was because of her age. Sadly, I doubt she’ll grow up to be a beauty. Her face is triangular, with a pointed and kind of weak chin. Her mouth is too large, and her lips are thin. She also has a bit of an overbite that makes the middle of her upper lip pointed, like her chin. Her nose is straight and a bit wide, it ends with a point. Her eyes are wide set but a little small. If they were large, that’d make all the difference. She also has large ears, pointed ears.

Frankly, she looks like a spritely elf, and at seven (and now at nine, when I saw her on their Christmas card) she can still be called a cutie. I worry about when she’s 15.

Her hair is a light brown—it can’t really be called blonde—and wavy. Then, it was cut rather short but she’s grown it long now.

I noticed the new paint on her fingernails, somewhere between lavender and pink. It actually set off her complexion well because she does have good color in her face, rosy cheeks and nicely dark pink lips.

When we left the theatre I put my hand on her shoulder and she put her arm around my rear and my hip. That reminded me how much she had felt like a bird when I wrapped my arms around her.

We had dinner at Chili’s. We shared the Big-bite burgers, she ate one and I had three, and she ate a few of my curly fries.

“I want to take a bath before we go to bed,” she announced as soon as we were in the car.

“Sure dear,” I responded.

“Daddy says you want to have sex with me tonight.”

I wavered in my lane, then looked sharply in the mirror to make sure a cop hadn’t seen me.

“Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?” I asked.

She sort of wavered in her seat as she smiled. “Yeah. I want to see what someone else is like,”

I looked up at the road and grinned.

“But let me take a bath alone. I like to be alone in the bath, otherwise it’s too crowded.” She paused. “Also, don’t try to put it in me. Daddy says I’m too small.”

“I wouldn’t think of it.” (Bull shit)

As soon as we were through the door, Claire took her bag and went into the bathroom. She closed the door. Even though it wasn’t late, I took the opportunity to get ready for bed too—I took a quick shower as soon as I’d heard the water stop running in the tub. I also shaved my face (little girls don’t like scratchy cheeks) and some other parts. I put on some sweats and went to the door of the guest bathroom. I knocked.

“Honey, do you want some desert when you’re done?” I called.

“You can come in,” she said. I heard her moving in the tub.

The room was warm, the heater was running and it was steamy. Claire was sitting in the tub, waist deep in soapy water. Her hair was wet and matted, there were lines of suds running down her chest and back. I closed the door behind me.

“I have chocolate chip ice cream for desert,” I said.

She turned and rolled up onto her knees. “OK,” she said, “but first, would you comb out my hair?”

“Sure.”

“I have a comb in my bag.”

She had just come with a gym bag for overnight. There was a plastic envelop with a zipper that had a toothbrush and paste in it but the comb wasn’t there. I dug around in the gym bag, sorting through the pair of flannel pajamas she’d worn two days earlier when I saw her, a pair of white panties with pink flowers, another that was plain blue, two pairs of socks, a tee shirt with a flower and kitten design, and a pair of jeans with flowers embroidered around the pockets and cuffs, a hot pink sweatshirt. The clothes she’d been wearing, a sweater, white tee shirt, jeans, pink panties, white socks and a pair of Asics were crumpled on the floor against the wall. The comb was in the bottom of the bag.

When I turned around she slid back down in the water—but she’s such a tiny thing that she went completely under except for her face and her legs which were bent. With her eyes closed and lips pursed, she ran her hands through her hair, rinsing it again, before she sat up. Water streamed down over her face and she blinked her eyes. Then she lifted up and sat on the side of the tub with her feet still in the water. I leaned down and opened the drain but she had her knees together, so I really didn’t get to see anything.

My hand was shaking as I began to work the comb through her hair. There was no way this little seven year old knew how horny she’d been making me all day. First, there’d been a couple of comments about liking fishing more when it’s warm because “I can wear less clothes.” Then there was the “Not now” whisper at the movie theatre, and a couple of times she’d hugged me and, I swear, she had moved her chest back an forth against my cock. Now she was sitting, naked and wet, while I combed her hair.

When I finished she swung her legs out of the tub and grabbed a towel. She seemed to purposely keep her back to me, drying and then putting on her PJs while not showing me anything more than her little ass. A couple of times she glanced back at me with a coy little smile. I wonder if she knew what a fool she was making of me…probably.

I was able to calm down some while we ate ice cream; it was a little more like normalcy. I lifted Claire up on the counter while I scooped out two cups, then we sat at the table and ate while she chattered about her girl friends at school. When we finished she looked up at me with a little smile.

“I guess you want to go to bed now?” she asked.

“Uhh…OK…” I stammered at the sudden change in subject.

“But you can’t put it in me.”

“Of course,” I croaked.

“OK.”

She got up and walked to the door, then looked back with that smile again.

I followed her through the living room and down the hall, turning off lights as I went. She got to my bedroom first because I went back to lock the front door. When I got to the door of the bedroom I was stopped in my tracks.

Claire’s PJs were on the floor and she was sitting on the bed, her back against the headboard, her knees up, arms on her knees, and her legs spread. I’ve described Claire so far, told about her cute but not pretty face, how she’s quite small and skinny, but this was the first time I’d really seen her, at least in person.

Fact is, even though she’s no beauty, she’s just a skinny little kid with a kind of goofy looking face…holy fuck but is she sexy. She truly is a sprite…the most cute, sexy little wood sprite that ever danced in the evergreens. She was no where close to lengthening out yet, her torso was as long as her legs, her head was still too large for her body, like a toddler. Her ribs stood out, there were ridges across the middle of her chest with mosquito bite nipples only a shade darker than her skin. The skin was stretched tight and thin across her stomach, pulling at a small her belly button.

There was a spider web of veins under her skin. But still, all of these things went together to make her an incredibly cute and beyond sexy preteen sex pot. Maybe it was because she was such a child…there was nothing womanly about her…if you think girl children are sexy…she is pure little girl sexy.

But, I haven’t gotten to the most…indescribably sexy…

Claire, for all her small size, has a huge pussy. Her vulva, her pubic mound, is very prominent. If she lays flat on her back, the rise of her pussy is almost as high as her chest. And she has a long, deep slit with soft, fleshy and large labia majora. Even sitting with her knees pulled up and legs spread, they were still closed, not even uncovering her clit.

I pulled my shirt up and off and, while I was pulling my sweatpants down, she slipped under the covers. I turned off the switch for the overhead light, but one of the bedstand lights was still on. My cock wasn’t fully hard yet, but it was almost. Her eyes twinkled when she looked at it while I walked up to the bed. As I pulled the covers down and slipped in next to her, she slipped down and tuned to face me with us both on our sides.

My cock rubbed against her thighs, then slid up along her hip and she put her arms around my neck. I was really surprised to feel her tongue as soon as our lips met and she pulled up against me, kissing me deeply. I felt her leg lift up and hook over my thigh, her knee almost over my hip.

I ran my hand down her back and over her butt, a butt that I could almost cup with one of my hands. Then I pushed it further down and between her legs. I pressed my middle finger into her slit, it was warm but not slippery. I ran it back and forth in the furrow, probing deeper and moving the soft, fleshy sex as I did.

Claire humped into me a couple of times, then pulled her face back. “Here, let me turn around, I like it if you cuddle me from behind.

She rolled over so we were now spoons and she pressed her ass back against my cock. I had one arm under her, my hand on her chest, my other hand I rubbed along her hip, then over and down to her pussy. Again she looped a leg over mine, spreading her thighs for me.

I cupped her monz in my hand as I pushed my finger down her slit and she let out a long sigh. She had gotten a little moist, not slippery but not still sticky, and I could feel the soft ridge of her clit. I pushed my fingertip at the opening of her cunt.

“Not inside, that’s too tender,” she said. She put her hand on mine and started moving it up and down, then side to side.

“I really like it if you rub me through the sheets.”

“OK,” I said, a bit amused at this new request. She certainly seemed to know exactly what she liked.

Actually, it was really sexy to feel her through the sheets. The shapes under the thin fabric left a bit more to the imagination—made me think of what it would be like to feel up a girl in a public place—maybe in a movie, or sitting at a table with a big table cloth, maybe in a booth in the corner of a restaurant.

Claire obviously found this sexy too as she started to rock her hips and breathe harder. Meanwhile, the movement of my cock along her ass crack, and my dick head pressing into the small of her back, was making me build.

“Here, under the covers now,” she panted, pulling the sheet away from herself.

I repositioned my hands, now my right hand was on her chest, my left middle and pointer finger spreading her pussy and rubbing her clit.

“Move them side to side,” she said, directing my hand. She was breathing hard now, so was I, and she was humping against my hand. Sometimes she moved my fingers from side to side, sometimes back and forth. Her vulva was soft and moved with my hand. She was getting more and more tense and beginning to sweat.

A couple of times she shivered a little, only to relax, then move my hand faster, in a new way. I realized that I was squeezing her chest a bit hard and had to relax.

Again she built, only to shiver and fall back again.

“Here,” she pulled my hand up onto her belly, “let me do it.”

I put my hand on top of hers as she masturbated—she was moving it alternately from side to side and around in circles. I felt that she had two fingers in her slit but she was not pushing into her vagina—so I did, just placing the tip of my finger in the opening. She started to hump harder, blowing her breath out and gasping in, now groaning some. I smiled and held this overwrought seven year old as she trembled and shook in my arms, madly masturbating herself against me.

Moaning “Oh, oh, OH,” she started to kick her legs, hitting the back of my thigh painfully with her heel. She kicked my other shin with her other heel as she seemed to convulse, grunting as she came.

All this put me over and I started shooting my sperm into the small of her back as she came, shaking, arching her shoulders into me while I held her, one hand on her chest, the other pressing her hand against her sex.

Then she relaxed, melting down against me. I could feel her heart pounding in her chest, a staccato tap-tap-tap against the hard thuds of my own pulse in my throat. I realized I was really squeezing her tightly—maybe too tightly—and relaxed. She blew out her breath, then brought her hand up and put it on mine.

“Ummm, that was nice,” she said. Then she wiggled her butt against my softening cock and started to giggle. “You got all gooey on my back.”

“Sorry,” I said.

Again she wiggled. “It’s OK.”

I held her like that for a few minutes before she rolled onto her stomach, then turned her head so she was looking at me.

“You need to wipe me up before it gets all itchy.”

I used a corner of the sheet to wipe my cum off her back and my dick. I had smeared semen all over her lower back and there was even some in the top of her ass crack. I sopped it us, then she rolled over on her back and put her arms over her head, displaying her preteen body to me.

“I’m not done yet,” she said as she stretched.