Morgan
Chapter 6

Copyright© 2014 by AJ Martin

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 6 - My name's Blair, Blair James. This story is about how I met Morgan. She was twelve and I was just seventeen when we met the summer of 1930. The Depression was in full swing. Our life together spanned more than a century and I wouldn't have done it any other way. I could have, by the way. I really could have but I didn't and I'm the richer for it. And why I can say that is an integral part of my story.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   girl   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   First   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Slow  

It didn't take long for the tub to fill enough so Morgan could climb in. As she sat down in the water, I figured I'd let her be but as I got up to leave, she asked me to stay. "I need you to wash my back and my hair," she commented.

"You promised."

I hoped I was up to the challenge of washing her, especially her hair. I'd never shampooed a girl's hair before and I hoped I wouldn't louse it up. I did guess washing her back wouldn't be a problem.

It's good that I'd anticipated there wouldn't be all the little bonuses of staying in a hotel like small bottles of shampoo, conditioner and body wash common in the places my family had stayed as I grew up. So I'd packed a moderate amount of modern shampoo in a plain squeeze bottle.

Plus I'd added a couple of the petite bars of hotel soap I'd purloined along the way. Although that hadn't proved necessary as the hotel did place a large-sized bar of soap in the bathroom.

I laughed to myself as the thought crossed my mind that I might not have enough shampoo for more than a single wash for each of us. 'Stupid', I silently said to myself. I realized it would be easy to dash back to my present time and reload the bottle or get anything else I might need.

Knowing I might get wet washing her, before I returned to kneeling beside the tub, I removed my shirt and popped off my undershirt. Morgan silently watched me and broke out in a smile.

"You going to join me in the tub," she asked. "Mommie and daddy do that sometimes.

"I won't mind," she added.

I told her, "Not right now.

"Maybe another time."

I thought I could see a little disappointment cross her face, but I couldn't bring myself to be that bold, at least so soon after meeting her. Plus I didn't remember doing that with either of my parents. As an afterthought, I did remove my shoes and pants so they wouldn't get wet from what I was sure would be part of the mess I might make of washing her.

Morgan started to say something as I knelt down beside the tub but other than pursing her lips, not a word came past her lips. She had been staring at my midsection, right at the bulge in my briefs and I figured that had something to do with what she'd hesitated saying.

I guess I was thankful she didn't say something as I wasn't sure what I'd say to just about anything she might ask or say about where she was looking at me.

'Leave a sleeping dog lie', I thought to myself. Although I was sure whatever she had been thinking about would come out eventually.

So I handed Morgan a washcloth and the soap so she could start washing up. She looked a little confused and handed both back to me. She knelt sideways in the tub with her back to me and I dunked the washcloth in the water and after soaping it up, I gently scrubbed the top of her shoulders down to the top of her butt.

When I'd moved the soapy cloth to her sides, she dutifully raised her arms and I continued to brush the cloth over her there. Although, she did giggle a little as I passed over the edges of her breasts and up into her armpits.

She was right about one thing. I could feel the swelling at the sides of her breasts. I was sure it wouldn't be too long before they would be starting to enlarge into a conical shape and soon begin to blossom into beautiful, fully shaped breasts.

When I'd finished soaping her back and side, I rinsed out the cloth and filled it with clean water. Taking a saturated cloth I squeezed it and wrung it out, letting water cascade over her. Finally, I gave a simple rinse with a final saturation.

She stood up and glanced backward at me for a second, still facing crossways in the tub. I just continued washing her by once again lathering up her the backs of her legs and her butt. Of course, the inside of her legs was a little problematical.

Standing there, she had her feet spread apart a little and her waist was just above my eye level. Inches in front of me was the most interesting and erotic scene I could have ever imagined. I could see every wrinkle of her sex. Every little dimple. And every small detail of her intimate feminine area there at the juncture of her legs.

My dilemma was, as I soaped the inside of her legs, and neared that most private of places, she gave a light sigh and dipped a bit lower. Even as I hesitated to wash her there, the little dip she made, forced the side of my hand to brush against her.

With my second pass up the inside of her legs, just before I reached the juncture, she turned around to face me. Her eyes were closed and she placed her hands on my shoulders. I guessed the way I was touching her was OK but I didn't want things to get too intimate. I wasn't sure it was proper to be touching her the way I was, but after all I thought, I was just washing her so it should be OK. At least I hoped so.

When I was making the last of another two passes up the inside of her legs, this time with her facing me, she put her left hand onto the back of my right hand holding the cloth and shifted it so my palm covered cloth made firm contact with her crease. The contact was brief but she did press it slightly against her there as she slid my hand back and forth over her. A light gasp escaped from her and she quickly drew my hand away and knelt down once more.

 
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