"Well hello there sweetie," Henry Wilcox said after opening the door to find his nubile young neighbor out on the steps looking nervously around as if she didn't want to be seen coming up to the senior citizen's door.
Debbie Blair was nervous because the last time she had knocked on this neighbor's door she had ended up in the garage with her plaid shirt up and her panties, and what had happened was unlike anything the sheltered teen had experienced before. It was certainly nothing that the principal would have approved even if it did result in a sizable order for the school's fund raiser.
"Hello Mr. Wilcox," Debbie said in a nervous voice, her eyes darting back and forth between the kindly looking senior citizen and at nosy Mrs. Tuttle across the street who was gardening. "I have your order here."
"My, now that was quick," Henry said. "I thought you said that it would take a week?"
"Some of the stuff they have already at the school," Debbie explained.
"Would you like to come in honey?" Henry offered. "I know last time you were afraid to come in, but we're much better friends now aren't we?"
"Okay, but I can't stay long," Debbie replied, and as the old man stepped to the side Debbie entered the lair.
"I thought you might want these things now," Debbie said of the bag of things which included a calendar for next year, and why the young lady thought her elderly neighbor would be in desperate need of a 1970 calendar in the fall of 1969 seemed odd, but the old timer knew why Debbie had returned for this unnecessary visit, or at least he thought he did.
"Fine. You know you look just as pretty as you did last time - maybe even prettier," Henry said as he followed the girl over to the counter where the girl was placing the bag.
"Last time," Debbie repeated, swallowing hard when she seemed to be trying to find the right words, and the old man's wrinkled hand on her arm didn't help.
"Yes, Last time," Henry mused as he recalled the too brief but so sweet session in the garage when he had coerced the private school student to let him see her intimate parts. "That was a wonderful way to get acquainted."
"Will something happen because of what you did?" Debbie asked, and when the old man looked confused she added, "I never did anything like that before."
"No? Well I'm honored," Henry Wilcox responded. "You seemed to like it."
"Yes, but I shouldn't have let you do that to me because you probably think I'm a piggy," Debbie said. "I've been praying about that a lot because I feel really weird about it."
"And now you're back here?" Henry observed.
"I came to bring the stuff you ordered. The rest will be in next week," Debbie said.
"That means I will get another visit from you," Henry said as he faced the girl and ran his hands up the girl's pale arms to her rounded shoulders and then back down.
"What did you do me Mr. Wilcox last time in the garage?" Debbie asked. "What did you do that made me feel that way?"
"You aren't going to tell me that you've never touched yourself down there before are you?" Henry asked, because while the 18 year old girl might be as virginal as she acted there was no way she hadn't gotten herself off yet.
"I have," Debbie said with a blush. "Lots. But it didn't feel like that. I even tried later that night in my room. It felt good but not like that."
"And you want to feel it again? Is that why you came back?" Henry asked.
"Please don't tell anybody about this Mr. Wilcox," Debbie pleaded as her body language seemed to tell the senior citizen that she wanted him to touch her.
"Oh, don't worry about that honey," Henry said as his hands slid from the girl's arms, which had become covered with goose-bumps, and over to the swells on her chest. "Would you like to go to my bedroom? We could get comfortable..."
"No. I don't want to get pregnant," Debbie whined, and when she looked down and the wrinkled hands gently kneading her breasts though the clothing she stepped back, her back hitting the counter. "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to make you feel like you did last time," Henry assured the teen. "Doesn't this feel nice?"
"My boobies - they're not very big," Debbie said apologetically.
"They feel nice to me honey," Henry replied as he squeezed what seemed to be mostly fabric.
"Carly Ross - she has big boobies," Debbie mumbled as the hands kept massaging. "Hers stick way out."
"This Carly, is she a friend of yours?" Henry asked as he felt the girl's nipples stiffen.
"Kinda - no not really. She's really popular," Debbie said as her breathing got heavier and sweat started to form on her forehead and upper lip. "Her locker is next to mine in gym and I see her when we change."
"I see," Henry said. "So you have a crush on her?"
"No - um - she's a girl."
"I know but that would be okay if you did. I have an idea Debbie. Why don't we take your blouse off. I don't want to get it all wrinkled."
"Here?" Debbie asked as she watched the buttons get undone.
"Unless you want to go to the bedroom," Henry responded, and when he got to the last button he gently tugged the blouse out from under her plaid skirt and opened it up. "Oh, that's so sweet."
The old man smiled at the little pink flower stitched between the padded cups, and as his finger touched the decoration Debbie said, "Maybe I should go home. This seemed like a better idea before."
"You don't want to go home honey," Henry said with a smile as he looked down on the girl was, although she was only a couple inches shorter than he seemed much more so. "You want to show me how beautiful you are."