I'm in my last year of school and I will be seventeen next month. I know I'm pretty because lots of boys hit on me, ask me out or just stare at my body, my boobs usually. I find it all very silly and I'm not really interested in these immature boys. But there's this old guy who lives down the street from me, when I say old, he must be forty at least, anyway, sometimes I've caught him looking at me and it sends a shiver down my spine. He so gross and disgusting, never dresses nice or anything, in fact I think he's out of work and on social. I never have seen any one else there, so I think he must live on his own.
My walk home from school goes right past his place and sometimes as I walked by he would be working in his front garden, he would straighten up and stare at me. I would feel all shivery inside, like he's put his dirty hands on me. When I get home I would go straight to my room and strip off all my clothes and lie down on my bed. I would touch myself, seeing in my mind, him looking at me while I squeezed my boobs and rub myself between my legs. My orgasm usually goes on and on, leaving me spent and sweaty. I don't know what is about him, he's not handsome or rich, in fact he's rough and gross, possibly smelly too. But I always look out for him when I pass by, and if I see him, I know I will frig myself silly just as soon as I get home, all the time thinking about what he would actually do to me if he was really there.
School was out for Easter, Mum and Dad were at work, leaving me all alone at home. After the first week, I have completed all my homework and I was bored. I decide go through my whole walldrobe and chuck out everything that doesn't fit anymore. This, I found out very quickly, was about half of my clothes, my figure has developed so much in the last year that none of my favourite things fit me anymore. I'm standing there in my bikini knickers looking down at the pile on the floor, when I looked up and see myself in my full-length mirror. I turn to look at myself; not too bad. I think my boobs are still not big enough yet, if I was going to take after my Mum there's still a few more inches to go. Looking back down at the pile of my old clothes most are too good to dump, so I'll see if any of them can be salvaged and reused. Clothes aren't cheap and Mum and Dad don't have the money to spend on new clothes for me. There's a pair of Jeans that I can cut down into shorts, the legs shaped into a bikini top or something, and that denim shirt, perhaps can be cut up into a sun top.
I looked out of my window and I can see him staring back at me; he's in his back garden, dressed in just some dirty shorts. I pretty sure he can't see past my net curtains and into my room, but I crossed my arms over my naked bust anyway; I can feel my skin crawl.
I picked up my mum's large dress making scissors and got to work on my denims. Firstly I cut off the legs then I pulled them on, there are very tight and I can only just do them up. I looked at myself in the mirror, not too bad, I look good dressed in tight shorts with my boobs bare, just like a model; now for that shirt. This was more tricky, I cut the arms off first and then some of the back, after each cut, I put it on to see how it looked. After an hour I'm reasonably satisfied with the result, most of my midriff was bare as well as my back. I retain just two buttons at the front, but only do one up, which leaves a goodly amount of my boobs on show. I moved over to the window, but he's gone, I wondered what he would do to me if he could see me like this. I lay down on my bed and fantasised that he is in the room looking down at me; my fingers were busy between my legs until I came.
The next day was quite warm, I decided to go out for a bike ride or a walk, anything, I was so bored. I showered and rummaged for something to wear. I picked up my new denim outfit, removed my dressing gown and put it on. I went down stairs to get my bike out of the garage, but both tyres were flat, shit, I thought, what now.
"Need any help girlie," he said.
Unknowing to me he was standing by my gate, this was the first time he had ever spoken to me.
"My tyres are flat," I said.
"Yeah, so I can see, do you want me to fix them for you?" he asked.
The thought of being so near him sent a shiver of disgust of something, through my body, but I heard myself answer.
"Could you please?"
"Sure girlie, I'll take it to my workshop, ok," he said.
"Thanks," was all I could think of to say.
He walked towards me, the closer he got, the more disgusting he looked, dirty and unshaven. He picked up my bike and carried it off.
"You can come and watch if you like?" he offered over his shoulder.
"Thanks," I replied and docilely walked after him.
His workshop, in his back garden was surprisingly tidy, with all his tools hanging on the wall. I watched him remove both wheels and then the tubes. I noticed that he looked at me from time to time while he worked.
"No punctures, just the valves I think," he said, "I've got some spares here somewhere."
I stood there watching his big hands working on my bike, when I became flushed at the thought of those same hands working on me.
"What's your name girlie?" he asked.
"What?" I'm was miles away in my own private nightmare.
"Your name?" he repeated.
"Oh sorry, it's Trish," I said.
"Trish, nice name that, matches you too, nice bit of crumpet you," he said, and he looked me up and down with a leer.
"Yeah, built nice you are," he said.
I went bright red at his words, I was used to boys looking at me, but this was completely different, somehow dirty and disgusting.
"Nice legs and good size pair of tits, just like your Mum," he carried on.
I stood there like a statue, not knowing what to do.
"There you are, that should fix it," he said, wiping his greasy hands on a rag. Before I realised it, he was standing just inches from me; he was so close, I could smell the maleness of him. I was like the mouse before the hypnotic stare of the snake. One of his arms moved around me and pulled me closer.
"Yeah, been watching you girlie, you're coming along nicely," he whispered in my ear.
His other hand moved up my leg, along my thigh and up to my bust.
"Yeah, just like your mum, nice pair of tits on her too," he said, his voice low and throaty.
I could see the dirt under his nails and the ingrained grease on his hands. He undid the two buttons of my top to expose my naked boobs to his gaze. His rough hands mauled me, his overpowering male smell filled my senses and I felt quite faint. Encouraged by my passiveness he became more aggressive. His hands now move down to my shorts and unzipped me. At this point, I came to my senses and try to stop him.
"No please stop," I cried, but his hand forced it's way into my shorts and into my pussy.
"Oh no please," I begged.
"You're going to like this," he whispered in my ear.
I close my eyes still not believing this was happening to me. His fingers moved along my slit, bringing an involuntary groan from my lips. If his arm hadn't been around my waist, I sure I would have collapsed. The action of his hand had caused my shorts to fall around my ankles leaving me totally naked. I felt the heat in my pussy getting hotter and hotter.
"Come for me girlie," he whispered, "that's right girlie, come for me," and I did.
I couldn't catch my breath, my legs sagged and I let out a cry.
"There's a good girlie," he cooed at me.
His hand now left my pussy and he was again mauling my boobs. Still in this weakened state, he turned me around and then I could hear his zipper.
"Oh no please," I said.
I was thinking he was going to put his hard maleness into me, but I could only feel it up against my bum. While he moved his thing up and down my crack, his hands continued to maul my boobs, then he let out a cry and I felt his hot juices jet all over my back. He wiped me down with the same dirty rag and told me to get dressed. As soon as my shorts were done up, I was out, running up his path, still doing up the buttons of my top, and I left my bike behind.
I lay soaking in my bath wondering what had happened, how did I let myself be handled by such a gross and dirty person, I ran the events through my mind like a movie, and to my distaste my pussy became hot again. My fingers stroked myself until the water splashed over the rim of the bath and wet the floor; I came for the second time in an hour.
For the next couple of days I didn't venture out of my room, except for meals, every time I looked out of my window I could see him pottering about in his garden and looking up at my window. I want my bike back, but I was afraid to go and get it in case I bumped into him again. I spent my days salvaging what clothes I could.
I put on my new denim bikini, made up from those old jeans legs and some curtain rope, I thought I've may have made the top a little too small for me, I almost fell out of it when I first put it on. Next I put on a loose top and shorts. I've made up my mind, I was going to get my bike back. All seemed quite when I opened his workshop door, nobody was around, good. There was my bike, looking clean and oiled, it's tyres pumped up. I started to wheel it out when a shadow fell over me; it's him, standing in the doorway.
"Couldn't keep away hey, girlie," he smiled lewdly at me.
"Please," I said shaking a bit, "I'm just picking my bike up."
"You're looking good today," he said, walking towards me.
"Please," I begged, "I must go."
"Sure girlie," he smiled nastily at me, sending a shiver down my body, but he was still blocking the doorway.
His big hands took my bike and pushed up against the wall, then he turned towards me. As he came near I could smell him, a pungent male smell that almost makes me gag. Once again I couldn't move, his hands moved over my exposed thighs.
"Please," I said softly, "let me go."
"Soon girlie," he replied.
His hands are popping my top buttons to reveal my denim bikini top.
"You look good in that," he smiled, "but even better with it off."
With that he pulled it over my head, almost tearing it.
"That's better, you've got a nice pair on you," He said with a leer.