Early in life, I realized that I enjoyed watching younger girls. I have never acted on my attraction; still, I continually find ways to be in the areas where they tend to congregate. In the summer, I spend a lot of my time at the beach admiring the beauties in their skimpy bathing suits coming in and out of the water. Their young breasts topped with pencil-sized nipples always get my attention. I always wonder what it would be like to taste them. When they come out of the cool water, their nipples are molded to the bra material. None of them seems self-conscience displaying their young charms. I get to see many nipples in a day.

Another area I often frequent is the swimming pool in the park near my home. It has a wading pool for the young ones. I enjoy watching the young mothers. Many are in short shorts and tube tops. The young children sometimes get carried away splashing their mom's and, when some of the material is wet, it exposes everything. Many of those moms are very attractive, well-endowed young ladies. Some are really too immature to be moms. I can never understand the mentality of the guys that get them pregnant. They have to be brain dead. The fact that the girls allow the guys to love them sexually should be payment enough for the guys to have the foresight to protect the girls against unwanted pregnancies. Watching those young moms, I wonder if they will overcome their situations and really enjoy life. Many appear to be in their mid-teens. I don't see too many wedding bands.

There is some grass just at the edge of the park, but sorry no bunnies!!

I am Don Parson, age fifty-one and a widower for the last fourteen years. Cancer took my wife. I have no relatives in the area. I am in the computer industry and well paid for what I do. I don't want for anything. I wish it had been that way when I was first married. My wife and I struggled to pay our bills but we had a good life. I live in the house we bought so many years ago.

The beaches and pools close soon after September, thus limiting my sources of girl watching pleasure. Television is a very poor substitute, but it did direct me to a source. After dinner one night, I am doing my usual thing of flipping channels and getting frustrated. With my satellite and cable, I have hundreds of channels; hundreds of channels of unwatchable trash. I stop at a channel showing a region competition for figure skating. A young girl is skating, showing grace and beauty. I watch the complete program being impressed with the talent of the young skaters. Their ages are from preteens to older teens. All are very attractive in their costumes. Like the pools in the summer, the local arenas must be a heaven for a number of young female figure skaters.

The next day at work, a conversation by a co-worker gets my interest. It is Mary Tyler.

"We are having trouble getting volunteers and may have to cancel the program. The club can't afford to pay people."

Ross Green responds.

"You would think more people would become involved, considering that you have a number of young skaters with a lot of potential. I read the write up in the newspaper yesterday."

"We have until Friday to come up with the volunteers for the program or the hopes of many of the young skaters could be crushed."

That night I go the recycling bin, retrieve the newspapers, and search for the article. I find the item that Ross Green was referring too. It seems that a national figure skating judge was in the audience at some of the recent practices and rated the skaters he had seen. In the opinion of the judge, five young girls and two young boys showed talent that could place them in competition for a place in the next Olympics. With the current Olympics starting shortly, this comment gets a lot of play in the local media. There is also an interview with the local club president asking the public to please volunteer to keep the club going. They have funds for ice time and coaches, but they need volunteers for the Joe jobs. That is what Mary Tyler must have been referring too. It listed the practice times for this week. Tonight, the young skaters are on from 6:30 to 9:00. Since I have nothing better to do, I decide to watch.

The parking lot is nearly empty. The main group of cars is near the entrance and the balance of the lot is vacant. It appears that not too many people are interested in the girls and boys practicing. When I enter the actual skating area, I observe parents huddled over their children getting them ready to go to the ice. Off to one side, in the corner, I notice a young girl by herself lacing her skates. I take a seat and watch. Soon the surface has a number of young skaters. I assume they are warming up. My knowledge of figure skating is actually naught. I concentrate on the young girls. The majority of the young ladies have their hair in ponytails, something I love seeing on woman and girls. Some are in elaborate outfits, others just in slacks and jackets. It is easy to see the skaters from affluent families. Then I hear a whistle sound. The young skaters rally around the coach and listen, and then they break up and mark out private areas for each to skate with pylons. The young girl that tied her own skates is in front of me. Others are skating in their own area's surrounding the rink boards. I watch as the coach moves from skater to skater giving instructions. I observe with interest as she instructs the young girl that caught my interest. The girl seems to flow on the ice with maturity and grace. Even I can see the difference with my total lack of knowledge of figure skating. Then the whistle blows and this group leaves the ice and another group replaces them. I never notice that the number of people in the stands has actually doubled. I am so wrapped up on watching the young ladies on the ice.

As they leave the ice, many of the girls are welcomed by parents or friends and a given blade protectors for their trip home. The young girl I had watched is in front of me removing her skates and putting on her shoes. I look at the new crop of skaters doing their stuff. When I glance down, I find that the young girl is gone. I stay until the last group of skaters has finished their practice. On my way out, I stop in the lobby for a cup of coffee. Walking around, I read all the notices about up-coming competitions for figure skating and games for the local hockey club. I see a placard, requesting volunteers for the figure skating club, no experience necessary. It has a number with Mary Tyler's name. I will talk to her tomorrow at work.

The day starts off wrong. The firm gets a call from one of our clients. Their main frame just froze and they think it could be a virus. I get the call to do a field investigation. As soon as I view the system, I know that their suspicions are true. All I have to do is find out which one of the thousands of viruses is the culprit and then remove it. It takes me the better part of the day to locate the culprit and clean the computer, by four o'clock the system is on line. The CEO actually shook my hand and thanked me for a job well done. He tells me if he can ever help me out to call on him. I thought that odd but, when I return to the office, I find out that his firm was in the middle of their biggest profitable contract and if they hadn't completed it on time they would have lost it: their prestige and the profit.

Mary Tyler is nowhere in sight. She left early. When I drive by the arena, the outside billboard indicates that there is hockey practice and a game tonight.

The next day I do find Mary and ask her if I can speak to her on our lunch break. She agrees to meet me. Mary and I have been co-workers for nearly four years. She is a virus specialist as well. We have never been close friends, seeing each other only occasionally, because usually one or the other is the field. This last week has been an exception.

"Don, what can I do for you?"

"I am not sure, but it may be that I can help you. You are looking for volunteers for your figure skating club, right?"

"Yes, we are. If we can't get the help, I am afraid the club may fold and it would be a great shame. We have a number of skaters with a lot of promise. We have been told we have Olympic potential. Are you interested in volunteering?"

"Can you tell me if I would be any use to you? I don't know a thing about figure skating."

"Don, there are many jobs you could do. They won't seem like much, but we need them to be done. We could really use you."

"When is your next practice?"

"Tonight. I can give you a schedule tonight. What we need is a person to help skaters get ready for the ice. Many have their parents help but sometimes they aren't able to come. That is where you come into the picture."

"Is there any special way to tie skates?"

"No, as a rule, you just continue lacing them, as they are on the rest of the skate, and then tighten them, making sure they are comfortable for the skater."

"I think I have the mental capabilities to handle that. Is there anything else?"

"There will be a lot more but let's get your feet wet first. See you tonight."

The balance of the day was uneventful. After a quick bite to eat, I drive to the arena. I recognize many of the parents and their children from the last time I was here. Mary spots me coming in and comes towards me waving a sheaf of papers.

"Don, here is the current schedule, till our next competition. You will get a new one after that. It will be in six weeks at Moorestown. We need chaperones."

She is looking right at me with that comment. I think she is hinting I should volunteer.

"I can take a hint. If I am not on an assignment, I will be a chaperone."

"Good! Now, you can introduce yourself to the parents and the skaters and see if you can assist any of them."

It takes me nearly an hour to walk through the stands. I talk to many parents, introducing myself as an assistant for the skaters. Some mention that they will not be able to assist their children and hope I will help them. I start taking notes of the days that parents will be missing and the names of their children. Finally, I end up where I sat the last time I was here. The same young girl is struggling with her skates.

"Hi, I am Don Parson. I am a volunteer. Can I help you with those skates?"

She looks up at me with her beautiful gray eyes. They are bright and striking. Her face is soft and alluring. Her long, dark brown hair is tied in a ponytail. Her lips are full and have a natural reddish tinge. Her smile is devastating.

"I would appreciate some help. I never seem to be able to get them tight enough on my own."

I kneel in front of her and help her into her skates.

"I am Jayden Zwicewicz. I haven't seen you before."

"I work with Mary Tyler and she mentioned that the club needed volunteers to help with the club; so, here I am volunteering!"

Jayden's legs are long and well-shaped. The short skirts and leotards most girls wear expose all of their legs and the beautiful area between them. Due to the nature of the costumes, they are made of tight, yet stretchy, material. They are molded to her legs and pubes. I try not to stare. Fortunately, Jayden is concentrating on me getting her skates tightened. I notice that her skates are older and the boots have been polished several times. Jayden's leotards are shabby and small stitching appears in a number of spots to mend splits in the cloth. I watch as Jayden moves to the rink.

Once I finish my rounds, I sit in the area close to Jayden. I watch her go through her routine, take lessons, and then skate some more. Again, I notice she performs her exercise with grace and beauty. She seems much more confident than many of her peers. Then, all too soon, I am waving good-bye to many I introduced myself to earlier in the day. For the next two weeks, I get into a routine of helping many of the skaters when their parents are absent. Each day I end my tour with Jayden helping her tighten her skates. Every day I watch her. I am curious why she is always alone.

It would be nice if there was some way of introducing my bunnies here but it is a skating rink.

I have been admiring her young body. Sometimes she actually wears sweaters that hug her developing breasts, allowing them to be seen by the likes of me. I can't help but admire her. That night at home, I recall her and wonder if I am actually admiring her skating or her sexuality. I now find myself in a state of arousal when I assist her and gaze at the mystery between her legs.

The next day I have lunch with Mary.

"So, how are you enjoying the figure skating, Don? I see you there for every practice. I wish the rest of the volunteers were so diligent."

"I have met a lot of nice people and skaters. All of the parents are pleased that someone is there to help their kids if they can't be there."

"Yes, I have had a few come up to me and comment that they see you all the time. Doesn't this interfere with other things in your life?"

"No, since summer I have been looking for something meaningful to do with my spare time. This turned out to be it."

"I am glad you volunteered."

"Mary, what can you tell me about Jayden Zwicewicz? She faithfully comes to every practice but I have never seen her parents."

"Jayden is able to skate and take lessons because of a number of donations we receive to help skaters that can't afford the ice time or instructions. It is unfortunate for her as she is one of the best skaters I have seen in the club. She is a natural talent."

"Why do you say unfortunate? She is there every day."

"She has the talent but not the necessary equipment. Skates and costumes are very expensive. For her to compete, she needs two pairs of new skates and all the accessories. When we go to a competition out of town the parents have to foot the bill for travel accommodations and meals. Jayden is from a single parent home. Her mother works very hard but doesn't have the financial means to maintain Jayden's skating. She has to support herself and two children. Jayden has a ten-year-old sister. I know Jordon wants to try skating too but, again, it is a matter of money. The only thing that could allow Jayden to go on is a generous benefactor."

"Benefactor?"

"Yes, like a patron of the arts, someone that can afford to pay for Jayden's expenses for as long as it takes. If she continues, it would cost thousands. That is why I feel so bad that she won't be able to compete."

That afternoon what Mary said runs through my mind? Here is a young lady with all the talent in the world that is unable to pursue her dream because of the lack of money. It perplexes me to no end. After dinner, I log onto the Internet to do some of my own research about figure skating. There are numerous sights dedicated to the sport. Everything that Mary said is confirmed numerous times. The more I think of Jayden and her plight the more I want to help. I certainly have the means. I haven't had anywhere to spend my money for years. When my wife and I started out, we both were very conscious of our financial responsibilities to each other and placed large insurance policies on each of our lives. The large payout was invested and has been growing for years. My salary surplus is accumulating in a term account as well.

I call Mary Tyler, advise her of my plan, and ask how to approach the family. She suggests I talk to Jayden's mother and go from there. She gives me the telephone number and the address. They live in an apartment complex near the local mall. It is too late to call tonight. Late in the afternoon the next day I call.

"Hello, is Mrs. Zwicewicz in please?"

"This is Mrs. Zwicewicz. How can I help you?"

"My name is Don Parson. I help out at the skating club where your daughter is a member. She may have mentioned me; I am the one who has been helping her with her skates."

"Oh yes, she has. I think it great that someone has taken the time to help Jayden. I would love attend but I work hours don't allow it. There just aren't enough hours in the day. But that isn't why you called."

"No, it isn't. I have been talking to Mary Tyler and she tells me your daughter has talent to burn but may be held back."

There is a long pause. How do I bring up the subject of wanting to help out Jayden financially? It is an awkward pause.

"Get to the point, Mr. Parson."

There is a frigid change in her voice, as she is now on the offensive.

"Please, Mrs. Zwicewicz, I would like your permission to help Jayden with her goals in figure skating by assisting with the expenses. I thought it would be best to talk to you first before approaching your daughter."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"I have been fortunate in my life to have accumulated funds I will never use. I don't have any close family and I see an opportunity to help someone who has talent. If you are against it I won't mention it again."

"Mr. Parson, I would like to meet you, face to face, before I say anything more. Are you available tonight?"

"There is a practice tonight. I could meet you at eight thirty wherever you like."

"Great! I have to do some shopping at the mall; I will meet you in the food court in front of the coffee shop."

"Eight thirty it is. I may be a few minutes late, depending on my duties tonight, but I will meet you."

The last person I always attend to is Jayden as I help her remove her skates. I really don't have to help, but I enjoy looking at her. I realize I am attracted to her. She always thanks me for my help and is so polite. When I enter the ice arena tonight she is waiting for me to help her with her skates. During her practice, she falls in a clump, but gets right up, rubbing her leg. The instructor comes over and talks to her, then tells her to sit and relax. I assume her leg is sore. I wait for her.

"What happened?"

"My blade got caught in a crack and it twisted. I fell on my knee. I think it is bruised. My muscles are tight."

"Can I offer you a leg massage?"

Jayden looks at me with her beautiful bedroom eyes and mouths 'please.' I get on my knees in front of her.

"Where is it sore?"

She points to her left calf and thigh. I feel her leg and delicately caress her. She is so soft. As I massage, she leans back in the seat and closes her eyes. I must be doing something right.

"Mr. Parson, that feels good. I can feel the tightness leaving."

"Please, call me Don."

When she leans back, her short skirt pulls up leaving me to face her beautiful pubes. The space between her legs is fairly wide giving my imagination a broad area of thought. I can feel my tightness increase as I move my hand to her thigh. I am looking at her covered heaven. As I run my hands softly up and down her muscled thigh, I imagine I can feel the heat radiating from her pussy. I realize I am staring at her luv lips and feel a blush running up my body. I look around to see if anyone is watching. Fortunately, nobody is interested and I regain control.

"Did that make it feel any better?"

"Yes, thank you. You have very soft hands, Don. I am glad you were here. I guess I better go home."

Because she is still is tender, I help her remove her skates and lace up her boots; this way she doesn't have to lean over. I offer to drive her home but she refuses. I watch as she leaves. It is eight-twenty. I look around to see if any one is left needing my assistance. The rest of the skaters have their parents to help.

It takes me twenty minutes to get to the mall; for some reason, the traffic is brutal! After parking, I hurry to the food court. It isn't hard to pick out Jayden's mom. Jayden has her mom's facial features. Like her daughter, she has dark brown hair; as I approach her, I notice she has the same beautiful gray eyes.

"Hello. Are you Mrs. Zwicewicz? I am Don Parson."

"Hello, Mr. Parson. It is nice to meet you."

"Can I get you a fresh coffee? I am going to have one."

"Yes, please. Cream only."

After getting the coffee, I sit down in front of her. She is a very striking woman. Even sitting, she is an impressive figure. Her breasts are prominent; standing out proudly. I am thinking I would love to be her sweater then I mentally kick myself as I sit down.

"Mr. Parson, I would like to apologize about last night. I went on the defensive."

"There is no need to apologize; I was just a voice on the phone. I confess I didn't know how to approach the subject. I realize it could be misunderstood."

"Let's start again. My name is Sabrina Zwicewicz."

She offered her hand. When I touch her, I can feel the electricity. Her lips are full and calling me to kiss her. Again, my mind is running wild! Her scent seems to have targeted my growing erection.

"I am Don Parson. I wish to help your daughter."

We have a long discussion concerning Jayden. I learn Sabrina is an assistant manager at a local firm. Since her husband died, she has the task of bringing up her daughters. She has found it very demanding.

"Tell me, Don, why do want to help my daughter? Do you have something else in mind as well?"

That hits me right in the stomach. How can I answer? I feel, on one hand, I can do something constructive and help a young lady in need. However, if I am honest with myself, I have to wonder if I also have a sexual attraction to Jayden.

"Firstly, I want to help because I see an opportunity to help make someone else's aspirations come true. I have a very good job that pays me very well. Fortunately, what I do is very much in demand. I keep myself alert and study all the new aspects to keep my ability on the cutting edge of my profession."

"That is noble; Mr. Parson, but you didn't answer the second part."

"I assume you are referring how I might feel for your daughter. To say I don't find her attractive would be a lie. However, all the young girls in your daughter's group are very appealing? Looking at you I can see where Jayden gets her looks."

"Well, at least you are honest. Jayden is very attractive. She reminds of me at that age. You wouldn't do anything to hurt her, would you?"

The look of astonishment on my face gave her the answer. I am totally aghast that she would think that I have anything but honorable thoughts towards Jayden.

"I can assure you I would never do anything, knowingly, to hurt Jayden or any other girl I assist."

"Your feelings can change and, if they do, I want to make sure that Jayden will not be hurt. She hasn't had a dad for a number of years and may look at you in that context."

"I promise. I will never do anything to hurt your daughter."

"I give you my permission to help Jayden if she is agreeable. She has never mentioned anything to me about new equipment."

We chat for a few more minutes and then part. My trip home has me wondering just what my intentions towards Jayden actually are. The conversation with her mom has me analyzing my actions and intent. I finally admit to myself that, for the last week, every time I am close to Jayden I can feel my rigidity increase.

At the next practice, I will ask Jayden if she will accept my assistance. She did not attend the last competition, likely for the lack of equipment. The next competition is in two weeks, again in Moorestown. I am tightening her skates.

"Jayden, I have been watching you. Even I can see your talent. You should enter the competition in Moorestown next week."

She gives me a concerned look and shakes her head.

"I don't have the necessary skates and costumes to compete. Mom just can't afford it. I am happy just being able to skate and get some coaching. This means a lot to me."

"What if you could get what you require, would you compete?"

"What is the point of dreaming? Do you have any idea of how much it costs for new equipment?"

"Yes, I do. I am willing and able to help you with your dream. Assuming you're willing to let me help."

"You? Why?"

"Yes, me, because I can. I have already talked to you mother."

"You talked to my mom? When?"

"Yes, I talked to your mother after your last practice. I met her at the mall."

"She said it was okay?"

"Yes, if you agreed."

"When will you do this?"

"Well, the competition is two weeks from Saturday. Are you free this Saturday? We can make a day of it. Do you know how long it takes to get skates ready?"

"Well, if I am lucky I may be able to get a pair that fits off the shelf. I have never had anything new before. Are you sure you can afford this? I know it costs over three hundred dollars."

My research shows it costs much more than three hundred dollars for competitive skates and she needs two pairs. The costumes are also expensive and, if they had to be fitted, it will cost a lot more. There is also the music. Someone has to prepare tapes of her program. I will have to ask Mary Tyler whom the club uses.

"Do you have your music on tape?"

"No, I never thought I would every need it."

"That is the first thing you have to do is order a tape. Do you know who does it for the club?"

"Yes. Mr. Fowler, he is sitting over there."

Jayden points out a person sitting in the next row of seats. I take Jayden's hand and walk her to Mr. Fowler. I listen as Jayden explains her requirements. It is Greek to me. He agrees a tape can be produced but, because of the rush, it will cost additional. Jayden's face shows her disappointment.

"How much is the cost?"

"Regular is twenty dollars."

"Will fifty cover it?"

His eyes brighten as I hand him the cash. We arrange to listen to the tape before the next practice. Jayden looks at me as her face loses the disappointment; now she looks confused. I ask her.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, but I have never seen anyone spend money like you just did!"

Smiling we arrange for me to pick her up early Saturday morning. Jayden gives me the address of the shop that carries all types of items for figure skaters from the skates to the costumes. I again offer to drive her home and this time she accepts.

During the trip, I notice she is staring at me. This certainly curtails me staring at her. I keep glancing at her, watching her breasts move up and down with her breaths. Her short skirt has ridden up her legs nearly to her crotch. My memory of caressing her leg comes into my mind and I wish I could have run my hand up higher. I feel myself stirring. Hell, I have never felt this mixed up about a woman/girl in years! A quick look at her face tells me she isn't in the Suburban but lost in her thoughts. Every opportunity I get, I study her features. She is so attractive. Her lips are full and pouty. I find myself imagining what they would taste like. I hear a horn behind me. It gets me out of my trance. I am stopped at a light. The fellow behind me isn't impressed at my slow reaction time to the green light.

Jayden lives in a three-story apartment building. As the Suburban comes to a stop, she comes out of her dream.

"I am sorry. I was thinking of the competition. I have never had the opportunity before. I hope I am good enough."

"I hope for your sake that whatever you need is available. See you Saturday morning at nine?"

"Yes. Thank you for the ride."

I watch as she walks to the front door. Her skirt sways as she walks. Jayden has great posture and legs that never quit. Now I do feel aroused!

Seven comes quickly Saturday morning; the aroma of coffee from my spiffy new coffee machine is invigorating. After a quick shower, I enjoy a leisurely breakfast. Yesterday I withdrew a sizable sum of cash, surprising my regular teller. She asks me if I am going on a trip. Not knowing how much this will actually cost me, I have to be prepared for all eventualities.

Driving up to Jayden's building, I can see her waiting at the entrance. She is dressed in a short skirt and jacket. Her luscious legs are encased in shear nylons. When she sees the Suburban, she runs to the curb. Her face is glowing with a beautiful smile. Climbing into the seat, I am greeted with a quick flash of white panties. There is my usual reaction. It seems every time I am with Jayden my libido raises several notches! I like being with her. Jayden's presence does something wonderful for me.

"Are you ready for the day?"

"Are you kidding? I couldn't get to sleep last night. Mom and I talked about you for nearly an hour."

"What could you find to talk about? I am certainly not interesting."

"You made a good impression on my mom. She says you are honest but I should be aware that things could develop between us. She told me about her early experiences with a close friend of her family."

Knowing my interest is at its highest peak, I look at her waiting for her to continue her story. She doesn't; she leaves me hanging, unfulfilled. Twenty minutes later, we are looking for a parking spot. She is walking beside me when she grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. Her body keeps touching my side as we walk. With every bump, I have to will my erection to go down. Looking down at her head, watching her ponytail move gracefully from side to side, my thoughts are not on Jayden as a figure skater, but as a woman. There is a feeling of relief as we reach the main entrance. The place is a beehive of activity, even at this hour in the morning. Once we find the store, we get the attention of a young female clerk and Jayden explains to her what she requires. The young clerk makes notes as she asks for sizes, colors, etc. She guides us to a fitting area and shows me a seat. She and Jayden are looking at a large selection of skates. Once they have a pile of boxes, Jayden sits down and tries on pair after pair. From my seat, the angle is perfect to watch. Every time Jayden lifts her leg for a new skate, I am blessed with a view of her white panties, molded to her crotch. The two of them are so wrapped up in the selection they are oblivious of the show they are giving me.