Legal: A First Time Novel

by Faye, Madison

  Oh my goodness.

  And it was right then that I knew he wanted me as much as I wanted him. He wasn’t just not looking away, or trying to sneak furtive looks. He was standing right in the window across from me stroking his hardness right through his jeans. Even if he didn’t think I could see him already, all it would take was one turn of my head to see him there plainly, and the fact that he just didn’t seem to care if I did had my pussy throbbing with heat.

  And so, I made my move.

  I turned towards him, my small tits right out in the open for him as I took a deep breath and drew my eyes right up to his.

  He may have played it coy before, maybe he’d felt awkward or flustered with our meeting earlier. But here watching me - the girl next door, in my window - seemed to have jolted him back into it all. And when our eyes met, he didn’t dart away, or hide. He didn’t even move his hand away from the bulge in his jeans. Instead, his eyes just flashed fire at me, and I found myself nodding slowly at him as we locked gazes.

  I wanted this; I wanted to show him every part of me.

  I turned as I hooked my thumbs into my shorts and began to slowly slide them down and ease them over my tight little ass. I glanced at him coyly over my shoulder as I pulled them down, showing him my ass and the tiny thong slipped tight between my cheeks. I could see Mr. Harding groan quietly, and saw his hand began to stroke the thick bulge in his pants harder and more purposefully now that we weren’t hiding or pretending. I moaned quietly to myself, loving that I was having this effect on him; that as inexperienced and young as I was, I could have that sort of power over this much older, much more experienced man. The naughtiness of it all was like a drug to me, and I realized as I turned back to him that my panties were soaking wet for him.

  As I stood there shyly, half in moonlight and half in shadow, I slowly hooked my fingers into the side of my tiny panties. I could see Mr. Harding's eyes blazing as they stared at me, and as I shivered under his gaze, I slowly pulled the thin material to the side.

  He groaned then, his face tightening and his finger going to the zipper at the front of his shorts. I gasped quietly as he pulled it down for me, and then again as he reached inside. But it was when he slowly pulled his hand back out that my eyes went wide and my jaw about hit the ground when I saw the thick, gorgeous cock wrapped tightly in his hand.

  As he held it - the huge, fat shaft pulsing in his fist - I let my fingers slide gently down over the soft folds of my slit. I could see his jaw tighten as I did and he started to stroke his hand up and down his big dick as I began to explore my young pussy for him in the window.

  It felt so dirty, playing with my pussy like that for Mr. Harding; so slutty, and that wasn’t a feeling I’d ever felt before. But at the same time, I loved how it made me feel. I love that I was his little barely legal slut, stripping and playing with myself for him like his own private porn show.

  Jake's hand was moving faster and faster up and down his throbbing cock, and I groaned and let my own fingers slide deep into my folds. His jaw tightened again as he watched me penetrate myself, watched how the soft light of the moon glistened on my wet, sticky fingers as they slid in and out of my tight cunt. He watched how my young innocent face scrunched up with pleasure as my thumb brushed against my clit. We stood like that, just watching the other as our own pulses raced higher and higher and we both barreled along towards the inevitable; the sexy, totally forbidden and unbelievably taboo inevitable.

  With my legs spread and panties pulled wetly to the side, I fingered myself faster and faster, feeling my own desire drip down my fingers from my dewey slit and my aching clit buzzing as my thumb flitted across it. Jake's cock looked even bigger then, and his face flushed bright red as he shuttled his hand up down his enormous dick quicker and quicker. I knew I was close, and I knew that I wanted him to see me.

  I wanted Jake Harding to watch me come for him.

  As I fingered myself to higher and higher up the cliff to the edge, watching Mr. Harding pump his cock in his fist as the muscles in his forearm bulged, the backdoor to my house suddenly flew open, and the sound of my mother’s voice came calling out. “Chelsea? Chelsea, your aunt wants to talk to you on the phone, are you out here?“

  And just like that, as if we both suddenly realized just how totally wrong this was, I found my whole body seizing up as I started to tumble over the edge. With a clenching gasp, I moaned quietly into my bedroom curtains as I came hard around my plunging fingers.

  Jake wasn't far behind, and as I watched, gasping through my orgasm, he suddenly jerked rigid as his cock throbbed and pulsed in his hand. Thick ropes of white cum erupted from his cock head and splashed down across the hardwood floor of his office as he threw his head back and gasped.

  As I panted and sagged against the window-frame, my body shuddering in the aftershocks of my climax and my panties still pulled wetly to the side, I watched the man who'd taken up and invaded every fantasy I’d ever had pant to himself with his thick cock just pulsing in his hand. He stared across the divide at me, grinning.

  Suddenly, we could both hear my mother stomping around the corner of the house, as if about to check the garage to see if that’s where I was. You know, the garage that had a pretty clear view up to Jake’s office and my bedroom windows. I giggled as I watched him tuck his cock quickly back into his jeans and zip up with a flash. He stopped for just a moment and looked back at me, and I winked and blew him a kiss before scampering away from the window.

  I hid behind the curtains, watching him leave the room, only to reappear a few moments later downstairs at his back door taking the trash out.

  “Oh, hello Jake!” My mother said cheerily. I blushed bright red as I saw Jake jerk his head around at the sound of her voice and force out a smile.

  “Hey there, Sarah.” His eyes darted quickly up to my bedroom window. “Hey, uh, thanks again for coming over tonight. Great to see you guys as always.”

  “Oh of course!” My mother smiled at him. “Listen, you doing okay with everything?”

  Yeah, I’d say he’s doing very okay.

  Jake nodded quickly. “Uh-huh, yep. Doing great.”

  “Well, you let us know if you need anything. And you know, Chelsea is around for a few weeks if you need a hand with anything around the house.”

  I watched from behind the curtains as Jake’s face went a little paler as he swallowed thickly and nodded.

  Yeah, I was certainly available to give him a “hand” with anything int he world he wanted me to put my hands on anywhere in or around his house.

  My mom waved to him again before turning away and heading back inside, none the wiser of course he'd just shot his load while watching the nineteen year old girl next door play with her pussy.

  Chapter 8:

  Jake

  Holy fucking shit, what was I doing?

  Having the sort of thoughts I was having about that girl was one thing. Going to bed at night dreaming about her tight little body and those big eyes staring at me as she let me spread those long legs was bad enough. But apparently I’ve graduated from dirty thoughts to jerking off along with her in the window of her bedroom, with her fucking parents downstairs.

  And the wildest part about all of that? It wasn’t enough.

  It wasn’t. Watching that nineteen year old jailbait across the way finger her pussy until she came for me wasn’t enough. I mean how crazy does that sound? Because I wanted more, and I wanted it right then. Fuck, I still want it.

  I found myself gritting my teeth in rage when I thought about what could have changed this girl into this little sex-kitten up at school. I couldn’t even imagine what those shit-head little college boys had gotten a taste of up there in Boston with this girl. Fuck, I got furious just thinking about it. I wanted to find each every one of them - anyone who managed to touch her, or taste her, or fuck her - and bury them all in shallow graves for it. Because none of them deserved her.

  Her. Her being, this girl I had no claim t
o whatsoever. Her being this girl I should have nothing to do with past smiling across the driveway or benignly asking about classes at a school. Certainly not the girl I should be imagining moaning for me, or coming for me. Certainly not the girl I should be jerking off in front of while she fingers her tight, off-limits pussy for me.

  But I want it, and I knew there was nothing on this Earth that could dissuade me if it hand’t already.

  I wanted to claim her. I wanted to claim and take her in every conceivable way. I wanted to pull her down on my cock, and bounce her up and down on my shaft until she flooded my balls with her honey. I wanted to bend her over and suck the sweet juices from that perfect, fresh cunt. I wanted to lick that tight little asshole until she couldn’t talk words anymore.

  I wanted to bury every inch of my cock inside her barely legal, college-girl pussy, and I wanted to come right inside of her. God help me, I wanted to empty every single sticky drop from my balls into that perfect, tightly teen pussy. I wanted to fill her again and again, dump load after load inside of her until it leaked out. I wanted to hold my cock right up against her cervix and flood her fertile womb with my seed.

  That’s how I wanted to claim Chelsea McKenzie

  The thought was so powerful that I ended up jerking it twice more in the shower after watching her in the window. I emptied my balls two more fucking times in the shower just thinning of her lithe little body and the way I’d seen her face scrunch up like that when she came. Fuck me, I’m almost forty for fuck’s sake, and there I was coming three Goddamn times in one night.

  And I still needed more.

  It wasn’t like I could very well just go over there, pound her door in, walk upstairs and plunge my cock into that slit. I mean Mike would probably kill me, for starters, and he’d have every right and reason to do so. Fuck, I mean what was I even thinking, having these sort of thoughts about his daughter, for God’s sake. Maybe I was the scumbag I was worried about being? Maybe I was the creeper pervert next door, leering at the nubile college girl home from break? Maybe I was toeing a line I shouldn’t be with this girl.

  Maybe, I’d just have to find out.

  Chapter 9

  Chelsea

  I didn't see or hear much from Mr. Harding over the next couple of days. I worried a little that he was avoiding me; that maybe he was embarrassed or no okay with what we’d done the other night in the windows across from each other. And the school-girl crush in me panicked a little that maybe I’d pushed things too far and that now he was going to avoid me until I went back to school and he could forget about having watched his best friend’s daughter come for him.

  It was especially muggy and hot out on that fateful day - The Day - that would change everything. My parents had left early in the morning to take Dennis on the first round of that wonderful experience of awkwardly checking out colleges, and I'd managed to spend the day so far doing not much of anything. But I guess that's what a school break was all about.

  My ears had pricked up when I heard the backdoor of the Harding's house slam open, and then my interest was really piqued when I heard the lawnmower start up. Grinning like a shy little school girl, I went to the window, only to grin even wider as I saw a shirtless Mr. Harding pushing the rumbling lawnmower across his backyard. He'd been outside for barely five minutes, but sweat was already glistening on his muscled chest, and I watched almost spellbound as his arms rippled and glistened in the heat as he pushed the mower around.

  I'm not really sure what prompted me, but I supposed it was being young, it being hot out, and me feeling especially like I wanted to get his attention again that day. It wasn't like I was trying to "make a move" or anything; again, I guess I was just feeling flirty. But when I went to my dresser and blushingly pulled out the brand new bikini I'd picked out at school with my roommate, I already knew I was probably toying with a line of some sorts.

  *****

  Out by our pool, I lay a towel across one of the lawn chairs, making sure it was at least partially facing the Harding's yard. I grinned to myself thinking about how much I'd changed in a few months of being away at school. I really was just having fun and being a bit of a flirt being out here like this, but I realized I couldn't even imagine doing something like this before!

  Of course, I couldn’t imagine stripping and then playing with myself like some sort of porn-star for the older man next door while he jerked his cock to me, either.

  The lawnmower was still whining away in the Harding's yard when I lay back with my shades on in my brand-new, white bikini. It wasn't especially slutty or inappropriate or anything like that; not like it was a thong or anything. But, it was certainly a change from the conservative one pieces I'd have worn before.

  I relaxed under the glow of the sun, feeling myself sink back into the chair as the world sort of dimmed around me. Actually, I was so zoned out and starting to melt into that sort of sun-trance where I started to think about taking a nap that I never even noticed the lawnmower shutting off.

  "You've got sunblock on, right?"

  I snapped out of my daze and jerked my head up to see Jake standing a few feet away from me, smiling at me as he toweled his face and neck off with a t-shirt.

  "Skin cancer is no joke you know."

  I grinned at him, feeling that heady rush I got whenever he was around. “Yeah, I'm coated."

  "Good, good. Man, I bet you're glad you get spend most of your time out of Florida and this fucking heat, huh?"

  I blushed slightly as he swore. In a way, it felt like un-censoring his language around me was his way of saying ‘yeah, you're an adult now’. It was also us avoiding talking specifically about the other night.

  "But school's going well?"

  I sat up then, curling my legs beneath me. "Yeah it's fine I guess. It's definitely nice to be home though too; I guess I missed more about Florida than I'd thought I would."

  Jake grinned at me and took a seat on the other lawn chair out by the pool. "Stranger things, huh?"

  He ran his hand through his hair and toweled off the back of his neck with the t-shirt in his hands. Behind my sunglasses, I stared at him; watching his tanned muscles ripple and glisten with sweat. God he was hot. I thought of that cock I knew he had in his pants; the one I’d seen from afar the other night. Only now, I wanted to see it again; much closer.

  "So, any boys?" He winked at me as he said it, stressing the last word in a teasing way.

  I felt my cheeks burn a bit. “No" I said, suddenly shier than I'd meant to say it. “No boys."

  "Well, just you wait. I can't believe you're not fending them off by the truck-load at this point."

  God, was Mr. Harding flirting with me? I could feel that now-familiar feeling I got around him welling up inside of me, making my skin tingle and my pulse race a bit faster. I grinned and turned my head a little, as if I was looking at something across the yard but keeping my eyes looking at him from behind my dark sunglasses. His eyes instantly dropped to my bikini-clad body, and I felt a hot ripple shudder through me as I realized that he was totally checking me out. His eyes slowly and hungrily traveled down my slim torso, over the tiny patch of material between my thighs and then down my long, tanned, slender legs.

  “Especially if you keep up those window shows of yours, you know,” he growled.

  I swallowed heavily and turned back to him, the color rushing to my cheeks as grinned bashfully. I guess we were going to talk about that.

  “Mr. Harding, I’m sorry if- if-” I stammered, trying to collect my words. “I’m sorry if that was-”

  “Hot?”

  I froze in my words, staring at him and the grin creeping across his chiseled jaw. The very hungry grin.

  “Oh.”

  That’s what I came up with in response; oh. I mean, what is wrong with me?