Neighborhood Pervert--Sally (Page 1)

By Leslie Schmidt

It was cool, mid 50’s, and threatening rain. I really enjoy the walk from the bus stop down the street to my house. This is because I get to pass the playground for the apartment building on the corner. Even with the cool weather, there were a dozen or so little ones on the playground, always with a parent in attendance, watching closely.

I did notice a new face, one of the adults, not a little one, so I stopped to chat. I quickly surmised that she was a single mom, late 20’s, new to the hood. She pointed out her four-year-old in a pink jacket, white stocking hat, and blue jeans. We talked for several minutes, then I made my apologies and headed down the street to my house. As I stopped on my porch to get the mail I looked back up the street. Another woman was talking earnestly to my new friend. When the conversation paused, the new comer gave me a long look. I waved, then unlocked the door and went into my house.

That night we got the first real cold snap of the coming winter. Two days later is was crisp clear and the mercury barely made it into the 40’s. This time the little one was wearing mittens with her pink jacket, her mom now had her hood up and was warming her hands with her breath.

“Cooler today,” I said.

She turned and looked up at me, then smiled. “Yeah, I’m not used to this.”

“By the way, I’m Mat,” I said, holding out my hand.

“Connie,” she said, taking my hand. Hers was cold.

“Where’d you move from?”

“San Jose,” she said, turning back to watch her daughter sitting down on the slide. She went down and collided with another youngster sitting at the bottom.

“Oh!” Connie said, taking a step forward, but she stopped herself when she saw that the two were untangling themselves with giggles.

“What’s your little one’s name?”

“Sally,” she responded, looking up at me. “Why do you take the bus? You have a car.”

I turned and considered the four year old Saturn in my driveway. “It’s a 25 minute bus ride to work, and a 15 minute drive. Then I have to spend 15 minutes looking for a space and it’ll cost me eight dollars to park for a day. The bus is a lot simpler.”

We watched the children for a few minutes. Now Sally and a little older boy were chasing each other around. A couple of other boys, six or seven year olds, joined in as they played a game of keep-away. The girl was having a great time, getting the attention of the older boys as she tried to tag them and they jumped out of the way. As she ran after one of them he went across the concrete curb that stopped the bark mulch from spreading across the grass. He fleetly jumped over the mud puddle but Sally tripped and did a classic face plant into two inches of brown goo. She came up with a muddy face, her arms below the water.

“Oh God!” Connie said as she ran over to the girl who was beginning to whimper. I followed. The boys had stopped and were looking nervous. Connie picked the muddy toddler up.

“Sorry,” the boy who she’d been chasing said.

Connie brushed some of the mud off her daughter’s face. “It’s OK,” she said.

“Doesn’t look too bad,” I said, coming up behind.

“I need to get her into a tub,” Connie said, looking at her own wet jacket now. She put the girl down.

“Coffee?” she looked up at me.

“Sure,” I said.

I hadn’t ever been in the building before; it lived up to my expectations. Kind of dingy stairways, musty smell, dim lighting. I noticed an empty fire extinguisher case just outside the door to the stairwell. But the hallways were clean and painted.

Connie was in a one bedroom. Not a bad place, small kitchen that opened to a dining area over a bar, alcove with a closet, the door to the right went into the bedroom, to the left was the bathroom. The place was painted white, the carpet was new. There was a bit of a mess of toys and discarded clothes around but it was clean.

“Oh God,” Connie said, still holding Sally, “I don’t want this mud in the house.” She put the child down on the tile that was just around the entry way.

“Sit down honey,” she directed. “Stay on the tile while I get a basket.”

“Put water on?” she asked me as she went toward the bathroom.

“Sure.” I took my own jacket off and laid it over a chair, then went into the kitchen. As I was filling the tea kettle Connie walked from the bathroom into the bedroom carrying a basket full of rumpled clothes. She came out with the basket empty and went to her daughter.

“Mommy, I’m cold,” the girl whined.

“Let’s get you out of those wet things,” Connie said. She stood the child up and unzipped her jacket, then worked it off her shoulders. The mittens came with it; I saw a string across between the sleeves. Next she untied her sneakers and they went with the socks and jacket into the basket.

“Arms up,” Connie said.

My pulse sped up as she pulled the hot pink sweatshirt over the tots head. It turned inside-out along with a sleeveless undershirt. As Connie separated the shirts, and turned the sweat back out I contemplated the topless little one—her slightly chubby little arms and the tiny pink bumps of her nipples. She helped her mother with the clothes, picking up the wet undershirt from the floor and throwing it in the basket.

Connie looked at me with a little smile, obviously a bit amused. I don’t know whether the expression on my face gave me away but I was pretty sure she knew what I was thinking. Then she turned back to Sally and pulled on her pant legs just below her hips.

My dick surged as the jeans slipped down over her hips, pulling light green panties with them—just down a little. With the panties still covering the real interesting parts, Connie pushed the jeans down around her ankles and the little girl worked her feet out of them, putting her hand on her mother’s shoulder to steady herself. As soon as the pants were in the basket, Sally stooped down and pulled her panties off. I’m sure my eyes got huge as she turned and bent over, placing them in the basket and flashing her lovely round ass for me. Then she hugged her mom and I got a glimpse of her puffy pussy lips.

Sally, I guess, was a pretty normal four year old—somewhere between still being a toddler but beginning to lengthen out and slim down. She was probably a few inches better than a yard tall and around 40 pounds. Her hair was dark and not too long, a round face, small mouth, and hazel eyes. Her belly was still a bit round and there were baby-creases in her arm pits and elbows but they had disappeared from her knees. There was still just a bit of fat giving her baby-tits, making her tiny nipples point out.

Her pussy was soft, pooching out with thick lips that completely hid her pink clit when she stood with her feet together. The lips would wrinkle as she moved around, like when crawling on the floor with her toys or twisting or rolling in the bathtub. I was to learn that, when she spread her legs wide, the fat outer lips would pull apart, as would the inner, opening her baby vagina.

“To the bathtub!” Connie said and she planted a playful slap on the little girl’s butt as she ran across the room. Connie followed. I stood in the doorway and got a really good look at her pussy as she climbed into the tub while her mother turned on the tap. Her thick lips pulled apart, uncovering her pink clit and making me dizzy in the process.

“Hand me that baby shampoo,” Connie asked, pointing to a bottle on the counter. I handed it to her, looking at the naked four-year-old who had sat down in the water. At the same time the kettle in the kitchen started to whistle.

“There’s instant in the cabinet next to the fridge—and sugar. Milk’s in the fridge. Do you mind? I’d like black with a little sugar,” Connie said.

“Sure.”

My head was swimming and my cock was making a clearly visible ridge down the leg of my slacks. The cups were hanging on hooks under a cabinet and it wasn’t a problem finding a spoon. When I got back to the bath with two cups, Sally was laying back in the water, her mother rinsing the soap out of her hair. Her knees were up but most of her torso was hidden in the suds. I put Connie’s coffee on the counter while she finished working the shampoo out of Sally’s hair.

Connie stood up grabbed a towel, drying her hands and arms.

“Thank you,” she said, picking up the cup of coffee and taking a sip.

Sally sat up in the tub, then grabbed a little plastic boat that was on the edge and dropped it in the water.

“You play while I put the clothes in the wash,” Connie said. Then she looked at me.

“Would you mind washing her while I run the basket to the basement?”

I almost staggered when I realized she had said ‘washing’ instead of ‘watching’, but I still wasn’t sure until Connie picked up a bar of soap off the counter and held it out to me.

“Ahh…sure!” I managed to choke out as she brushed by me and opened the closet door that was just outside the bath.

“Mr. Mat’s going to wash you hon while I do the laundry,” she called to Sally. The girl really didn’t seem to notice, she was too busy pushing the boat around in the tub. I was amazed as Connie left the apartment—leaving me with this incredible cute four-year-old in the bathtub and an invitation to molest her.

And, for the next ten minutes, molest her I did! I started by soaping up my hands and washing lovely chest and arms. She giggled as I scrubbed her arm pits. Then I stood her up and got my first real good look at her baby charms. Then, with my hands still soapy, I worked them up and down her torso, then ran my finger down her ass crack. She seemed to be used to being washed like this as she leaned forward, put her hands on her knees, and flared her butt up so I could finger her little bung hole.

My cock was hard across my hip in my slacks, and I wanted so much to pull it out and ask Sally if she’d like to wash me. Still, I had to be somewhat careful—if my dick was out when Connie got back it’d be too obvious.

I was shaking as I fingered her soft little clam. I was careful not to get too much soap in her slit, I didn’t want to irritate her, but I still probed her toddler vagina with my fingertip. She moved her legs apart and bent her knees, making her snatch even more available to me.

There was a hissing in my ears and my vision seemed to be through a grey tunnel, but still fantastically sharp, as I grasped her hips and turned her to face me. I was on my knees and bent over, my face even with her chest as I looked at her pussy. Then, without asking, the child reached down and spread her lips. Her pink pointed clit stood out and the inner lips opened some.

“See,” she said, “these are my baby-girl parts.”

All I could do is make a gurgling sound as I desperately fought the desire to lean forward and lick her clit with the tip of my tongue. Without thinking, I lifted my hand and touched her clit to which she immediately bent forward and giggled

I heard the front door open and quickly stood up. “Honey, you sit down and play,” I said as I turned away from the door and tried to position my cock so it wouldn’t be obvious.

“Mat,” Connie called from the other room, “it’s Friday and I don’t have any plans. Why don’t you stay for dinner?”

I went to the door. Connie was in the kitchen making herself another cup of coffee.

“Ahhh, sure, I’d love that,” I said. “But I need to run home and let my dog out.”

“Oh, you have a dog?”

“Yeah, a little mutt, but she loves me.”

“OK,” Connie said as she dug in the freezer, then pulled out some frozen meat. “This will have to defrost anyway. Chicken alright?” She turned and faced me. I saw her eyes moved down and stop at the lowering lump in my pants. Again there was that little smile.

“Chicken’s great.”

I was tempted to choke my chicken when I got home but I decided that I’d better not—there was a pretty good chance I’d get laid tonight!

When I got back, Connie had changed into black sweatpants and a blue sweatshirt. I was pleased to see that her small breasts were free under the fleece. Sally had on a flannel nightgown, pink with tiny roses. Connie worked in the kitchen, telling me about her new job. She didn’t talk about what had made her move from California and I didn’t ask. I suspected that there was an ex of some sort involved.

Meanwhile, Sally played around the place with various toys. I’d only been watching her for a couple minutes before my wishes were confirmed. She was sitting on the floor facing me and, when she pulled her knees up, I got a wonderful view of her pussy. The lips pulled apart again and, this time, I could see her vagina open up, a heavenly pink passage that might be able to admit my pinky finger—if it weren’t partially closed off by the lighter pink hymen.

I’m afraid that the little girl was such a distraction that I had difficulty keeping a conversation up with Connie. More than once, I found myself stumbling for words while I admired the toddler charms that were so blatantly on display. Also, a couple of times I caught Connie with an amused smile as she watched me—there was no question that she knew exactly why I was distracted—and she didn’t seem to mind at all.

We gathered around the dinette table, Sally on a booster seat, and ate chicken scampi over angle-hair pasta and a Caesar salad. The white wine was cheap but plentiful. Of course, as you can expect, the spaghetti ended up a mess with the four-year-old and after only a few minutes Connie got up to deal with it.

“You made such a mess!” she said to her girl, not scolding her but laughing. She picked some stray pasta up off the floor but then, instead of wiping the child’s hands and face, she pulled her night gown off of her.

“I guess you’ll need ANOTHER bath!” she said.

The child went on munching the spaghetti, chicken, and peas. (Peas in scampi? It was really good!) I looked forward to seeing her in the bathtub again. The wine did have the affect of calming me down. Also, maybe, I was getting used to having the girl naked.

When we were finishing, Connie stood up and picked up Sally’s plate.

“Do you want any more?” she asked.

“God, I’d love to but I’ve had more to eat than I should have.” I stood up with her and began to collect my dishes. I followed her into the kitchen.

She started the water and opened the dishwasher. “Would you mind putting Sally in the tub while I do the dishes? She’s a real mess.”

My mouth went dry…she wanted me to wash her daughter again!

“Ahh…no problem,” I stammered. I felt dizzy as I went back to the girl.

I couldn’t help but brush her slit with my little finger as I undid the ‘seat belt’ on her booster seat. She really was a mess, covered with butter sauce, spaghetti, and the occasional vegetable. I carried her out in front of me to the bath with her giggling the entire way.

“You don’t need to wash her hair,” Connie called after us. “She just needs the food rinsed off.”

I stood the child in the tub and used the hand sprayer to wet her. Then, with soapy hands, I washed her chest, stomach, and thighs. Of course, her pussy got a good washing too.

I heard the TV and decided that taking any more time molesting Connie’s daughter would begin to seem excessive. Still, the child’s clit had swollen and turned darker pink, and she was looking at me with wide eyes, before I lifted her out and dried her off.

“What’s on?” I asked as the naked baby ran out of the bath ahead of me. “There’s this new show where people investigate their ancestors…it’s kind of cool.”

I refilled my wine glass that Connie had, thoughtfully, left on the table and settled down on the sofa opposite her. “Sounds interesting.”

After just a couple of minutes she got up and retrieved the bottle from the table. I held my glass up and she refilled it, then sat down next to me. She leaned against me and I put my arm around her. When she looked up at me it was natural for me to kiss her—a quick peck on the lips.

“Thank you for dinner,” I said. “It was really good.”

She looked at the TV. “I’m sort of hoping you’ll stay for breakfast,” she said.

“We’ll need to make a road trip and let my dog out,” I said after a pause. “How bout I make you breakfast?”

Again she smiled up at me. “That means Sally’ll have to sleep with us.”

“I don’t mind if you don’t.”

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