Chapter 6
"It happens to the best bikes," Richie Garrison said, wiping his hands on his jeans and surveying the damage. The tire was definitely flat.
"That's just great!" Ginger returned, sounding not at all like it was great. "My folks have taken off for the weekend and I won't have anybody to drive me to church. And now, without my wheels, I'm as good as grounded."
Richie looked at the little girl sitting on the curb. She had about the most adorable face he had seen anywhere in real life. It reminded him of a painting he had seen once in a museum. But more than that, it reminded him of Lulu.
Ginger watched as the boy stood in front of her, blocking the sun from her eyes. Her parents and everyone else in town had warned her not to go near him. They had labeled him a "tough", somebody not to be associated with. He lived in a boarding house, didn't have any family as such as far as anybody knew talked very dirty, and was very big for his age. Those things all added up to the reasons why Ginger had been looking forward to meeting him alone someday. And now that her bicycle tire had sprung a leak in front of his house, Mrs. Livingstone's Boarding House, actually, here was the perfect opportunity.
"I wouldn't worry too much about it," Richie said, giving the thing a kick to see if it was still leaking, "it can be fixed."
"Yeah?" she said hopefully. She watched the big muscles in his arms as he lifted the thing up and set it right on the sidewalk. '
"I'll walk over to the gas station with you. Maybe a little air and bicycle patch will do it. It may not even need a new tire."
"That's nice of you," she said, hoping onto her feet like a kangaroo.
Ginger wished to hell this kid would just sweep her up in his arms and carry her off to the nearest tree house. She had seen John Barrymore do that in a movie once. It hadn't been a tree house exactly, probably a castle or something.
"I think Maunder's is open down there," Richie pointed to a gas station on the far corner of the boulevard. "We could probably get it there.'
"Okay," Ginger said, walking along as Richie pushed the disabled bike along with his hands on the handlebars.
He couldn't help thinking that for a thirteen year old, this little girl was really dynamite. She had such incredibly beautiful blondish-red hair. Those big deep dark blue eyes. And the way her blouse sort of cradled her tight little pouting tits. The tiny projections just seemed to huddle against the cotton on both sides of her chest. The effect was mesmerizing.
"Have I got something on my blouse?" Ginger said, after three minutes of feeling Richie stare holes through it.
"No," he said, turning his head back to the bike and trying to remember where they were supposed to be going with it.
"Thought maybe I might have spilled some chocolate milk on it or something." Ginger wished to hell she could drop the subject, but she just wasn't the sort of person to let a thing like that slip by unnoticed.
"Can we stop a minute?" Richie said, feeling himself a little flustered and a little annoyed at the same time.
"Sure." Ginger said, wondering what his game was. "Where?"
Richie motioned to the little stip of park in the center of the boulevard.
"Okay," she said, stepping up onto the curb and making her way in between the low-lying evergreen bushes. The air felt cooler and cleaner inside the little park as the cars continued to whiz by on either side of them.
"You're a nice girl," Richie said, pulling a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket. "Mind if I smoke?"
Ginger thought it was a little silly of this guy to want to wreck his lungs at his age, but he did look a teensy weensy like John Barrymore with that thing dangling suggestively from his lips.
"No," she said, crossing her legs and leaning back on the park bench. The sun was going down fast and she figured the time to be around six. Her folks would have shoved off already if all had gone according to plan.
"I'm not the sort of guy to try to kid around, know what I mean?" Richie took a deep inhale of the filter-less cigarette and let it seethe through his nostrils. "I usually speak my mind outright."
"I like it when people do that," she said, "bullshit really puts me off."
"Yeah," Richie replied, letting the cigarette work its way around between his fingers, "And there's an awful lot of bullshit around out there."
He pointed with the hand holding the cigarette out to the passing lane of road strip a few yards away from them. Ginger nodded.
"There sure is. You should come to my third period English class sometime if you want to see it in action. I mean Miss Martin is about the lowest, most syphilitic scum goat rot crotch bugger head . ... " She felt her voice trail off into a cloud of shame and degradation. How could she talk like that in front of this guy? What in the world must he be thinking of her?
"You're something," he said, grinning that beautiful white toothed smile and shaking his head. "I heard you had quite a mouth on you, but I couldn't have guessed it would be this beautiful."
"I just can't stop talking like that," Ginger said, feeling like a hopeless neurotic. I don't know what makes me do it."
"Probably you don't like society very much, that it?"
"Ya know, I think you've got something there. I .don't. Course I am glad I've got a home and a family."
Ginger glanced over at Richie whose gaze was fixed on the horizon. She thought it best to change the subject.
"Sure am glad you don't mind my cursing, it really turns my sister off."
Richie could see her sister in his mind's eye. She was one stuck up little cunt. Thought for sure her shit didn't stink. Apparently she'd blown half the basketball team, but to see her in action, you'd think she was a fairy princess on the work study program at old East Central High.
"Well. Ginger," Richie said, scooting a little closer to her on the bench, "it just so happens to turn me on."
"Oh!" Ginger said, feeling for sure like today was kismet and she'd met her match. Maybe even the dream of a lifetime.
"Can I ask you a rather personal, intimate question," he said, holding the cigarette hard between his fingers and staring at his feet.
"Shoot!" Ginger said, sitting back and throwing an arm up on the bench. She felt like the coach of a winning team before playoffs.
"Are you a virgin?"
"Am I what?"
"Are you ... have you ever been with a boy, you know, sexually speaking?" .
"Well," she took in a lot of air and blew it out again. This was going to be sticky. "Yes and no."
"Care to get into it?"
"No, I am not a virgin, technically speaking that is. But have I ever been with a man? Not directly. Not intimately. But I'm gonna tell you something, Richie, strictly between us. I've seen some stuff."
"What, I mean, like what?"
"I've watched some pretty heavy action, through key holes and closer sometimes. How about you?"
"I've had a little experience along these lines, myself. Remember, I do live in a boarding house. And I am three years older than you."
"Funny," Ginger said, "I don't think much about age."
"And I find it hard to believe you're that much younger than me. Could I suck your tits?"
Ginger stuck her tongue into one side of her cheek and thought a moment. She had really been dying for someone that she liked, even half as much as Richie Garrison to come along and ask her that. To explore those things she had for so long been watching through other people's keyholes and under the the slats of tree houses she wasn't invited to. Now When her big opportunity presented itself, she wasn't at all sure.
"I don't know," she said knitting her brow and glancing around her. "I would like to get to know you better, but here, like this . ... "
A huge semi-diesel truck ground its gears alongside them and another car screeched its brakes.
"Yeah,' Richie said, "not the most romantic spot on God's green earth. I wish I had money, Ginger, or even a garage to call my own. A backyard or something. I'm afraid the best I could do would be a quiet spot alongside the railroad tracks. I'm sorry."
Ginger stared at the boy's lustrous brown eyes and his dark skin. He was such a hunk of sinewy masculinity. And so mysterious. Also forbidden by her parents.
"We could go to my house," she said brightly jumping up and tucking one leg under her. She sat back down on it and looked up at him.
"What about your family."
"I told you my folks are gone for the weekend.'
"But what about your sister and your brother?" Richie knew Murray also. They were close to the same age. They had shown each other their cocks on numerous occasions.
"Hmmmmmmm," Ginger said aloud as her thought processes danced like sugar plum fairies on acid around in her head.
It would be difficult, but she might be able to manage it.
"Can you come by around eight o'clock tonight?" she said, clicking her tongue hard onto the roof of her mouth. These things demanded the utmost attention to planning and detail.
"Yeah, I could," Richie said back to her, the look of a absolutely straight and decisive gentleman on his face.
"I think we might be able to work something out if you do," she got to her feet and remembered the wounded bicycle lying nearby.
"I could bring that with me," Richie volunteered. "After I get it fixed of course."
"Thanks," said Ginger, trying to imitate the husky voice of one of her favorite Hollywood film stars, "thanks an awful lot."
"Don't mention it," the boy said back, bending over to retrieve the bike and looking at the hot shit little body the girl was displaying for him.
"I'd kinda like to kiss you Goodbye," she said, thinking how appropriate it would to seal the bargain with a smooch or two. She had actually never kissed a boy, but had a pretty good idea of how the thing should be done.
Richie leaned over and stuck his lips down on hers. He moved them around softly, mashing his mouth against her a little harder with each circular movement. He loosened up her sweet hot lips with his tongue and played it a little between her teeth. Then he felt her tongue lapping back at his. The sensation made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and sizzle. This little girl was definitely worth waiting for.
Ginger pulled away like a yoyo snapping back up and took off down the meridian. She parted the evergreen bushes with her knees and walked out onto the busy intersection. A city bus was just taking off in front of her. The gas fumes made her choke a little as she crossed the street. She could think of nothing but Richie Garrison all the way home. At last, at last a physical relationship was to be consummated. This was really a very important day in her life. She fantasized about it all the way to her back door.
"Is that you, Kid?" Jill said out to her from the dining room. Her voice sounded nice. Ginger threw up her guard on the spot.
"I know I'm late so don't start," she said, pushing the swinging door into the room to see the two of them sitting demurely at the table eating supper.
"Who's starting?" the older girl replied, dipping her soup spoon into the large bowl. "But we did decide to eat without you. It's after seven. I hope you didn't expect us to wait. We know you're busy.'
Jill was starting to sound just like Mom, and she'd been in charge of the house less than two hours.
"You wanna eat, Gin?" Murray said, pointing to a place set next to him.
"Cucumber soup?" Ginger said tartly, staring into the large bowl of liquid.
"Clam chowder, Wise Acre," Jill snapped back.
"I'm a little too tired to eat. Just can't seem to get up an appetite. Well," she hoped to hell she sounded convincing. "Guess I'll go upstairs and shower. Bike riding sure does do a number on my skin. Think I'll turn in early tonight. There's a Barrymore film festival on in a half hour. Ho Hum."
Ginger hoped she wasn't laying it on too thick. She had never been much of a good liar. That was Jill's forte.
Jill and Murray exchanged pained expressions as Ginger stretched her taut little body in an enormous yawn.
She turned to leave the room, hoping nobody would drag her back by the collar. She rushed out so fast that she couldn't hear the two of them talking as she tore up the stairs.
"You know we've got to work fast," Jill said, cleaning the dishes up like a scullery maid on speed.
"It'll take her a few minutes to get her clothes off." Murray said, trying to sound patient, even if he didn't feel like it. His cock was already starting to smart at the thought of getting two girls in one night.
Jill practically pitched the dishes into the sink and came back to the table. "You do know what to do, I hope."
"As we rehearsed it," Murray said smiling a little. If this evening was going to be anything like this afternoon, he wanted to be the first one in line to receive the action.
Murray climbed the stairs as quietly as he could. He listened outside the door as Ginger noisily got undressed. He heard the shoes being kicked off and the television being turned on.
A few minutes later, Jill turned off the water in the sink. She wanted everything to go just right. She eyed the kitchen closet and went to open it. Dad's strap was hanging there, out of use for many years now, but just as mean and leathery as it had been the last time he had brought it down on Jill's bare bottom. God, this was going to make her feel really good.
Ginger snuggled into her favorite terry cloth towel and slipped into her flip flop sandals. A hot shower would really feel good. She hoped she could sneak into her mother's room without being noticed. The bath powder in there was so much better than the stuff she had in her room. It was okay, just immature smelling. She wanted something with a little older odor.
Murray threw himself flat against the wall as he heard Ginger turn the TV down. Then he ducked around the corner toward the bathroom. He knew she would have to come this way.
Moments later, he was rather surprised to see her pass him right by and head for the folks' bedroom She opened the door and disappeared inside. He hoped she wasn't planning on using their shower. It was off limits anyway. But then that never stopped Ginger before.
He threw himself flat against the wall again as the door opened and he heard Ginger pad toward him. His dick drew up toward his stomach with excitement as she padded past him, unable to distinguish him from the dark shadowy alcove of the hallway. She headed for the bathroom and opened the door.
Ginger stepped into the white tiled room and turned on the light. She put the box of dusting powder down on the sink and turned on the shower. She stepped in and let the warm water trickle down her nose and then down her chest even in between the little valley between her budding tight little breasts. Had they grown a little in the last half hour or was she imagining things?
Probably just excitement, she thought. The thought of Richie Garrison actually touching them made the nipples practically stand up of their own accord. Of course, she helped them along a little bit by massaging them with a hand full of soap suds. She worked the lather in between her legs as well and felt the rubbery lips of her cunt expand as she pressed her palm up into the opening.
Murray paced the floor outside the door and waited. It wouldn't be long now. His schlong was having the problem of keeping itself locked in his shorts. The thing was beginning to ache and throb in the worst way. It simply wanted out and that was that. He would have to give it an airing, or he would have to let the pain build to the breaking point. He decided to let it out.
"Shit," he cursed to himself as he unzipped his jeans and reached inside to grab it. The thing was tossing and turning like a dinghy on a stormy sea.
"Oooooh, Richie," Ginger let out, accidentally sliding her fingers a little too high into her open slit. The sudsy squishy sound they made sliding in and out made her goose fleshy all over.
Richie grabbed the throbbing member and held onto it tight. It hurt him to pull it out so rudely like that. He would have rather a nubile little slave girl, like the one about to step out of the shower would reach in and grab it. Still, the work had to be done. His cock wouldn't accept a rain check. He grasped the base of it tightly between his hands and jerked it around slowly to pacify it. He hoped maybe it would get the message that more was to come later. It didn't. The thing stood up higher and higher, like a tent pole on the day the circus came to town.
Damn it, Ginger swore to herself, somebody must have used all the hot water up. She jumped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around her. She wasn't fond of having to end the lovely session so abruptly. Her pussy was just starting to puff up nicely and get red around the opening. She could have massaged it another ten minutes under the glow of the warm, steamy water. But somebody, probably a brother or a sister of hers had used all the good water and now just a trickle of cool water seeped out of the shower head.
Richie grappled with his balls that were bouncing around like giant Mexican jumping beans. He wished they would stop. His cock was enough to concentrate on. It was so demanding. He slid his hands up and down the shaft to quiet it down, but that seemed to only disturb it more.
Ginger tucked the dusting powder under her arm and wrapped the towel back around her. She would just have to finish the job properly, in her own room, on her own time. She kicked the door open with her foot and stepped into the hall. A dark figure protruded from the shadows and she stepped back in fright.
"Murray!" she shouted to the rafters, "what are you doing out here? What are you doing with your cock out?"