Date: Sat, 9 Jun 2012 14:54:38 -0400 From: Joe Mamma <joemamma619@hotmail.com> Subject: Little Biker Chick part V Little Biker Chick part V With thoughts of the horrible things that could happen to me should the board of licensure ever get wind of this running through my mind, I got behind the wheel of my car and drove home. I came to the conclusion that it would be my word against that of a crack-whore and there being no witnesses quickly forgot about the possible ramifications of the parking lot activities. I also recalled Blanche's off -hand remark about Allison liking to watch while she `entertained' her visitors. Although I'm not much into street urchins and prefer that my objects of my fantasy pre-pubescent lovers be clean and pretty, there was something about Allison that had piqued my interest. By the time I'd finished the 15 minute drive home I had a plan to rival that Professor Henry Higgins had for the Cockney street girl Eliza Doolittle in "My Fair Lady." Although one that was a combination of altruism and abject perversion. My fertile mind projected me turning the dirty little girl in Salvation Army reject clothing into an attractive fuck toy. There is a saying that goes something like "Dreams without action are mere fantasy." I had the dream and was going to begin the footwork. Despite having had my balls drained by the talented, although thoroughly disgusting Blanche, my cock was beginning to chub up at the thought that I perhaps could obtain and train a pubescent fuck toy. It would be a big gamble... the minimum I would obtain from this endeavor would be that I'd help a young lady endure a tough time and perhaps provide enough financial and emotional support to help her become a successful and independent adult. At best, I would accomplish that AND have the pleasure of fucking a girl on a regular basis all the while enjoying her transition from gangly teen to adult woman. I made a list of things to do over the next couple of days. I would call CPS and check on Allison's general welfare and see if there was any way I could get the ball rolling to help improve her life, even if only a little bit, and improve my sex life astronomically in the process. I had a feeling that, having witnessed the escapades of her mother as a purveyor of sexual pleasures for money, it wouldn't be too hard to convince her to do the same, but with me as her only customer. I went home that evening, had a bite to eat and went to bed. I usually choke the chicken right before sleep and this particular evening's cum was stronger than usual especially since Blanche had drained my balls not two hours before. I envisioned rescuing Allison and fucking her silly on a regular basis. This in essence is what happened. The nineteen year old who had just walked into my private office in my clinic and taken off her top exposing her firm B cups with the puffy nipples had become my lover in short order after that fateful night. Her mother is no longer in the picture having run off to places unknown with (or without, who knows?) persons unknown. Such is the life of an addict. I placed calls to social services in the county in which I lived. The fact that I was a doctor calling got me through the red tape a bit faster than if I were a civilian but still I was met with a litany of "we know, but we can't pin anything serious enough on her mom to have her permanently removed" and "We agree it's a pity and if there were more money and more foster homes available we'd have better luck placing her." The fact that I was a perverted middle aged man who would, if he thought he could get away with it, fuck that little girl silly, never came up. I was able to convince the social worker of my good intentions. After a 30 minute phone conversation we came up with an idea that could possibly work. We would play this out in a manner similar to the "Big Brother/Big Sister" program. One did not exist anywhere near our community so we improvised. The caseworker was maybe 45 years old, a bit frumpy, and thank goodness quite naïve. –Allison and her mother had been visited by this lady many times over the previous several years and agreed to let me take her (the social worker) and Allison out for a hamburger so we could discuss my proposal. We had a burger at a Mom and Pop place just outside of town. It was located in what was originally a gas station (back in the 50's) and had been converted to a small diner. Over the years the owners had spruced up the property and there were numerous picnic tables placed here and there around the several acre lot. The landscaping was minimal, but there were flowerbeds and shade trees enough to give it the appearance of a small park. Allison had apparently never had an outing like this in her life. She tried to act cool but I could tell by how she constantly looked around that this was a new experience for her. She was wearing what had to be a two size too large v-neck pullover top and shorts that were at least one size too small for her. Even though she wasn't very pretty to look at in the face, her cupcake top size titties and strawberry sized puffy nipples were frequently displayed to my lustful eyes as she often bent over allowing the top to pull away from her chest. Her shorts were of the `Daisy Duke' variety. After she had finished her burger and coke she got up from the table and pranced around the area just being a kid. From time to time she would bend over to pick 4 leafed clovers or to inspect something on the ground. This had the double effect of causing the bottoms of her cut off shorts to rise higher and higher on her firm ass cheeks or if positioned as such, a view down her top exposing her beautifully tempting breasts. Had the social worker been more aware, perhaps she would have said something to Allison to encourage her to act more ladylike. Had I been more aware, I would have seen where Allison's eyes were focused as mine were focused on her ass or her sexy tits. After maybe 15 minutes of watching Allison `strut her stuff' and listening to the inane ramblings of the frumpy middle aged caseworker. As she was rambling on about how kind and generous I was to help a young lady such as Allison and how lucky Allison was to have a person take interest in her with the system had failed I was treated to the spectacle of seeing Allison successfully attempt a hand-stand. She was on the side of the table with the caseworker's back to her, facing away from me, when she put her hands down on the ground, the shapeliness of her sweet ass cheeks enhanced by her outstretched legs and as she flipped her legs up in the air, her top dropped down covering her face and exposing both braless budding breasts to my gaze. Although it couldn't have been more than seconds, it seemed like an eternity that I was able to see her naked titties in plain view, the taut abdominal musculature and her skin tight jeans barely covering her assets. When she plopped down and stood upright, she turned to face me. I'm sure I still had a look of shock/lust/amazement as her eyes caught mine and she licked her lips and winked at me as if to say "I know you're looking and like what you see, and now I know you know I know and I don't mind!" I immediately became determined to make this arrangement happen. What started out as a 70/30 split between my desire for fuck toy versus trying to help this bright yet unfortunate youngster soon became a 99/1 situation. I hurriedly arranged, with the assistance of CPS and the foster parent board, several meetings with Allison and her mother. We discussed our concerns and made the suggestion that perhaps Allison would enjoy having a place to go where she could have a computer to work with and someone to be a friend and mentor. Allison knew she was bright, she understood all too well that it was only a matter of time before things got so bad at home that she'd end up a victim of circumstance (read crack whore) and/or an orphan. Allison and I had developed over those next couple of weeks a budding friendship and had made several outings in the company of the CPS caseworker. Her endeavors to flash me settled down however and I was slightly disappointed. She would from time to time brush her tits up against my arm if the caseworker wasn't looking, or allow me a glimpse down her shirt or perhaps a gander at her ass as she bent over. Her native intelligence became more and more obvious and I genuinely started liking the girl and picturing her as a successful, independent adult, free of the bondage of her upbringing. Throughout the several meetings we had it became clear to me that Allison seldom wore panties. I say this because the jeans that she wore most often (I wondered if they were her only pair) had dime to nickel sized holes in the seat and sides and even the crotch. Only rarely would I see a pale yellow (or maybe very dingy white) cloth behind the hole, most often it would be only flesh. On one occasion when the CPS worker and Blanche were seated at one side of a small table in the social worker's office Allison was in a chair behind them. I looked up at her briefly and she had splayed her legs apart enough to expose her crotch. There was a rip in her jeans next to the center seam and I had a very clear view of her pussy lip on that side. She gave me a little smile when the obvious look of surprise (and pleasure) crossed my face. From that moment on during this particular meeting each time I glanced at her she would spread her knees, give me a glimpse of her honey pot, and smile at me. We decided that the best we could do for her was to try for me to befriend her and be as much of a positive factor in her life as I could muster. I applied for foster parent status with the county and was able to pull some strings to get most of the paperwork pushed through rather quickly. Because of my position in the community, and the precarious situation Allison faced (the one that everybody knew about but was unable to change) the foster care board agreed that I could be considered a "special court appointed child advocate and temporary foster parent." A big title that allowed me to spend some time with her and, if necessary, be considered a guardian should she ever get sick or need someone to sign papers for healthcare or at school. She was doing very well in school and I learned that the bus that carried her to and from school passed in front of my house. Now the only thing remaining was to convince her mother that it would be a good idea for her to let Allison go, in a manner of speaking. We needed Blanche to decide that Allison staying anywhere but with her was going to be better for the child in the long run. The social workers who knew the situation best talked with her about how Allison wouldn't really be `taken' away from her so much as she would have another place to stay so she, Blanche, would have time to pursue her own dreams. (Apparently Blanche had stated many times to various folks that "if it hadn't been for Allison I'd have gone to school and gotten my CNA- certified nursing assistant certificate). I agreed to pay for Blanche's tuition provided she maintained a `C' or better average. I figured she'd never finish the first week. I was not wrong. Not surprisingly she jumped at the chance not to have the burden of daily responsibility of Allison without the `stigma' of having her child removed from her care. She told the social workers she was going to school to make a better life for herself. She didn't include Allison in the equation. As it turns out it was fairly easy to get her to agree to let Allison get off of the school bus at my house in the afternoon. The dump where they lived barely had a roof let alone decent heat, a/c and internet access. Allison had qualified for advanced classes that summer and her mom had been saying no. She did have the insight needed to see that having someplace for Allison to hang out and occupy her time would allow her more freedom to do whatever she wanted to do and "get the fuckin' CPS off of her back." As unbelievable as it seems the judge signed off on my `special status' rather quickly and Allison became my `ward.' Once we had the paperwork completed we presented the done deal to Allison. Immediately after making our pronouncement she jumped into my arms, hands around my neck thanking me repeatedly. I had arranged with the CPS worker a shopping trip to the local Wal-mart to get the girl some new clothes. I lived in a fairly rural area and this was the nearest place to buy clothing. Although I could afford better quality than Wal-mart offered we figured it might be too much of a culture shock if we took her into town to the better clothing stores. I had an initial budget of $250 for her clothing and when the day came to go shopping, Allison was very disappointed to learn that she and the CPS worker would be going without me. She pouted and begged me to go with her. Not being on the schedule to work the clinic that upcoming Friday I agreed to go with them and we arranged the trip. She took great pains to pick pants and shirts and socks that would mix and match well. Her budgetary sense was pretty good for a young girl and soon we had several pair of shorts, pants, shoes and a variety of tops that could be combined in a variety of ways to allow her many options giving the appearance that she had a more extensive wardrobe. She insisted that I be `the judge' of her outfits and took delight in modeling for me. I took delight watching her twirl around in front of the mirrors and in seeing her face light up with glee. Also I noted that she was selecting items that emphasized her burgeoning curves. She also needed bras and panties. Outward appearances denied my disappointment that I wouldn't get to see her model these items but I do have a vivid imagination. I feigned not paying attention but I would glance over from time to time and watch her select the sexiest undergarments available for young teens. My inner thoughts were able to imagine her strutting her stuff in just bra and panties and deviously thought to myself that I should let her order some things from Victoria's Secret in the future. The two of them also made a side trip to the `women's hygiene area' to select items for Allison as she was having periods. I took this time as an excuse to go to the sporting goods area and pick up a few fishing lures. The total bill for the trip ended up being about $375. I'm not sure how Allison had learned of the original $250 budget but after seeing the total she began picking through her `take' selecting items to return. I stopped her by saying, "Young lady, you can keep all of these. You've outgrown most of what you have and you'll be able to get a lot of use out of these clothes. I'm sure you'll be able to wear these through the summer and into fall so let's just get finished here and go to lunch... I'm starving!" "I'll make it up to you Dr. Ken!" she exclaimed. I'll clean your house and stuff like that to pay for this" I could only say, "Well, we'll see. Let's not worry about that now." I did however have in mind a very special repayment plan. We took our purchases to my car the three of us went to lunch at Long John Silvers...Allison's choice. After lunch we went to my house and Allison brought all of her purchases inside. When the CPS worker asked what she was doing Allison replied "I know if I leave my stuff at Mom's place it will be sold for crack money in no time. I can just leave most of the stuff here and take what I need for the next day home with me when Dr. Ken takes me there each evening." I marveled at the foresight this young lady had. I took them to my guest bedroom and went into my study as they took the tags off of everything and put the items away in the dresser and closet. Plans were for her to ride the bus in the morning attend the special summer sessions, do her homework at my place and then I would take her back to her mother's apartment after supper. This lasted about a week. Allison selected an outfit from her new wardrobe and put it in one of the Wal-mart bags. She ran it out to the social worker's car and came back in my house. I gave them both a quick tour of the house showing them the kitchen and where the various utensils, pots and pans were kept. We then made a quick trip through the den where the TV was located, my study which was where I had my computer and printer and the like. The last on the list was to show them the guest bath. When chatting on about the bath I casually mentioned that I had a large garden tub in my bath that had a whirlpool. Nothing would do Allison but to see it. I figured what the heck... the social worker was there, she would see that it was a purely innocent gesture as opposed to having to report that "Dr. Ken showed the minor his bedroom and bath on her very first visit to his home." As part of the tour I showed them both how the various knobs worked on the tub. We walked back through my bedroom and could see through the sheers the back yard, swimming pool and hot-tub. Allison was beside herself with curiosity and glee. We went back to the kitchen area, Allison checked to see if she had all of her `stuff.' They got in the caseworker's car and left. I sat at the table for a minute and thought about what I was getting myself into. In short order I convinced myself if I took it slow things would be fine and I'd have me a young teenage lover to play with for years to come. I was right! Except about the slow part. End part V