I was taking a bag of rubbish from the kitchen to the bins at the rear of my house in Highfield, Southampton when I saw what appeared to be someone crouching in the shrubs next to the path. There was a stretch of grass bordered by trees and undergrowth on both sides between my house and the one next to me with concrete walkways on both sides. The shrubs and trees were dense enough that it was difficult to see through them from either side. As I was headed to the house, I caught sight of someone squatted near the trees on my side.

I dropped the kitchen waste in the bin at the alley and began walking toward the person I saw. As I approached, the grass softening my footsteps, I saw a girl, maybe a teen, but probably younger, legs spread wide, squatted down with her back toward me. She was squatted so low that her butt was nearly touching the ground. Her face was shrouded by a peculiar dark scarf over her head. With her legs spread as they were and even in the subdued light, I was easily able to see between her legs and make out her gaping fanny. I saw the last few squirts of amber urine being expelled from her bladder.

It irritated me more than lightly to know some chick was pissing where I have to mow every week. When she lingered a few seconds, I almost expected next act to be a brown log being extruded from her arse, but it didn’t come to pass. Ultimately, she waggled her butt, slightly, rose, and stepped back away from the ground, wet from her piss. Before she could pull her panties and trousers up, I stepped forward and announced my presence asking, “What do you think you’re doing here?”

At first she didn’t answer, but after some seconds, replied, “I had to go really bad and I couldn’t make it home, so I did it in the bushes here.”

I looked her over rather closely and realized that, here, standing before me, her panties and trousers still just above her knees, six inches of her thighs bare, was a very beautiful, young black girl about twelve or thirteen years old. “Where do you live?” I asked.

“Next to Boots at the corner of Derby Road,” she responded, but we’re moving to Totton in two days,” she explained.”I’ve been visiting a friends and missed my bus.”

I knew where Boots was. I sometimes need stuff or medication. I often looked on it as an excuse to ogle the black and Asian community wenches common on the area. This girl was definitely from the latter. The scarf was a dark patterned hijab.

“Why are you moving?”

“My mummy wants to move out of here because of my uncle.”

“What about your uncle?” I asked.

“He put me in mummy’s belly fourteen years ago, and now he’s trying to put a baby in me too.”

“How long has he been trying?” I asked her.

“About four years when he came to live with us, but I just became a woman though, you know,” she looked at me sheepishly. “So mummy says it’s too dangerous to have him around me anymore.”

“First, pull your clothes up so you’re decent, then come with me young lady. We need to talk and maybe even call your mum and have her come over so I can talk to her too.”

With the mention of her mum, I saw a prompt reaction and worried expression on her face. I didn’t say anything right then, but I stored the information away for future use. I put a hand lightly on her shoulder and felt her shy away a little, then guided her out of the alley between houses, and up to the house. Changing my mind I pulled out my key and unlocked the door of my garage. I pushed the door open and told her to go inside and take a seat on a garden chair. This she hesitantly did noticing it was very much a storage area now as the car was too big and stayed on the drive. Once inside, I closed and locked the door and pulled another plastic stack chair over so I could sit facing her. Now that the shock of seeing her pissing and my initial irritation at her actions had passed a bit, I was able to think and see life for what it was and the opportunity I had.

When I looked at her closely, I saw a very beautiful black girl with a smooth complexion, not too much of the usual big nose you see on the Paki or Bangla females, long black hair swept under the silk covering over her head, very dark eyes with very fine features. Her loose maroon, gold rimmed top was pulled loosely over a dark purple patterned shirt. I watched her fidgeting with the bottom of her shirt for a few seconds. I was trying to snatch a better glimpse of her developing form and visualize what was underneath her shirt.

“How old are you?” I asked her.

“Fourteen,” she answered.

“What’s your name?”

“Myam,” she informed me.

“Well Myam, do you know why I brought you in here?” I asked her.

“I don’t know mister,” she responded. After a few seconds she added, “Because I wee weed on your grass?” she asked somewhat confused.

“Well sort of, but mostly because after you wee wee’d, you didn’t wipe yourself,” I told her.

“I know, but when I’m out, I sometimes forget to take tissues”.

“You know, if you don’t wipe after your urinate, you can get a bad infection between your legs that could stay with you the rest of your life?”

“I know, mummy tells me that too, but sometimes I just can’t wait.”

“I have some big tissues up there,” nodding to a shelf. “So that you can wipe. That might help you,” I said to her. “Do you want me to?”

“Okay mister, I guess it might help me.”

I stepped over to the shelf and reached up for the industrial tissues. I grabbed five or six sheets of tissue off the roll and went back to where the girl was seated.

“Here you go,” I said to her as I reached out with my right hand to give her the tissue.”

She took it and then seemed to fumble a little. I imagined it was because I was standing there, not more than a metre from her. Finally, I asked, “Are you going to use it?”

“I feel funny with you standing here watching me,” she said.

“Well, I already saw you when you were weeing in my yard, what’s the difference?” I asked.

“Maybe you’re right,” she embarrassingly admitted.

“I’ll tell you want, “I offered, “If you give me the tissue, then pull your trousers and panties down, you can lay back on this bench and I’ll wipe it for you.”

“But you’ll see my coochie, she countered.” I thought what a typically cute black name.

“I already have, remember? So what’s the difference?

“I guess mister. Just do it gently please,” she pleaded.

I took the tissue from her and watched as she stood up and pulled her pants and panties down below her knees. “Do you want me just to take them this far, mister, or do you want me to take them all the way off?”

Holy shit, I thought to myself, she’s offering to completely expose herself to my view. With that offer, I was all for doing as much as I could get her to do. I even wondered if she would accept some extra play after I wiped her. “Why don’t you take them all the way off. It’ll let you spread your legs wider and make it easier for me to wipe you,” I suggested.

She thought hard about my suggestion, eyeing me up as if can I trust him. She was very aware of danger I thought but at this point seemed resigned. She quickly stepped out of both her panties and flowing long baggy trousers and sat back down straddling the bench. I watched as she lay back, pulled her knees up, nearly to her chest, and spread them very wide. This was one very inviting pussy. Very hairy, black glossy fronds spread enticingly over the dark simple slit. I stooped a little following the river of black hairs through her crack, round her bum hole which was difficult to see amongst the growth. It was now obvious to me that she knew what to do. Someone had conditioned her to this sort of thing previously. Rather then risk spooking her at this point; I lightly blotted at her pussy with the tissue. “How was that?” I asked her.

“Okay,” came her response.

I folded the side of the tissue I had just used and blotted it once again. I couldn’t resist. So close and intimate with a young Muslim, but maybe Western radicalised girl. This time she seemed a bit more at ease with being half naked and spread wide in my presence. With her current position, her lips were parted every so slightly revealing the pinky peach inside part of her slit. It matched the skin tones of her palms. I decided to press a little and asked, “Do you mind if I spread your coochie a little to wipe you a better?”

When she responded, “Er ... yes okay,” I used my the index and little fingers of my left hand to press lightly on her lips and spread her vagina wide. It allowed me to peer inside a short distance, giving me the opportunity to view her hymen. There was still a vestige ringing her entrance, but it was ragged and frayed. I surmised that sometime in the past had already probed and violated her, snatching her cherry, maybe even before she became a teen. Such a shame, I would have given a million to have been the one.

“Myam, did it hurt when I did that?”

“No, mister,” she replied.

Sensing some willingness on her part, I decided to venture a little further and pressed the tip of my index finger, still tissue covered, to her vaginal entrance. There, I wiggled it ever so softly inside, just short of the remnants of her cherry.

“How did that feel?” I asked her.

“It felt okay,” she responded.

“Did you like what I did?”

“It sort of felt good, but you didn’t do it long,” she added.

“Well, I can do it longer if you’d like,” I said to her.

“Okay I guess,” she confirmed, she was well used to being fingered. My luck was in. Fancy finding a gorgeous teen Asian on your back door step and familiar with foreplay ... and prepared to let a total stranger molest her. Fuck!

I wet my finger in my mouth then returned it to the entrance of her teen cunt. My finger was very wet now and slid easily inside. I began to wiggle it ever so slightly, slowly pressing inward in tiny increments until half my finger was embedded in her gash. As I continued, I sensed a change in her breathing. It was getting shallower and quicker. It was time to ascertain if my ministrations were accomplishing my intended end.

“How does that feel?”

“It feels really good,” she now reported.

“Do you like me doing it?”

“Uh huh,”

“Would you like me to keep going?”

“Uh huh,” she grunted between quick breaths.

I could feel a warm slipperiness building inside her body. It was different from the saliva I started with. It was more viscose and much more lubricious. It turned her hairy, hot and moist passage to a man’s deepest dream. I finally switched from wiggling inside her to sawing in and out of her steamy tunnel. I started by using shallow strokes. As her moans became more frequent and louder, I increased the depth I was going until I was almost pounding her deep against her cervix. Another minute or so, and I felt her vagina clamp down on my finger, her legs dropped to the bench and clamped tight to my hand. There was no doubting that the youngster was experiencing a hard climax.

It took her several minutes before she showed any indication of recovering. She looked at me with almost a blank stare. “What was that?” she asked.

“Do you know what a climax is?” I questioned.

“No, I’ve heard my mummy and my uncle say the word, but I don’t know what it means.”

“Has that feeling ever happened to you before?”

“No, not really. When you first started with your finger inside me, I had feelings that I felt when my uncle did things to me, but it got stronger and stronger till it felt like I was floating somewhere in the clouds. It really felt good.”

I thought for a minute then decided to use some of the information I had gleaned from what she said about her uncle and asked her, “There’s a way that I can make what you felt even better. Would you like to try?”

“What do I have to do? My uncle tells me he can make me feel really good too, but he wants me to lie on my back and him lay over me. He’s big and fat and he terrifies me. I can hardly breath when he lays on me.”

“What I was thinking is for me to lay down on the bench and you sit on me. That way I won’t be squeezing you and you can help me and yourself, controlling. Would you like to try that?”

She thought for a few seconds then agreed. I was almost beside myself. I already was able to make her cum with my finger inside her body, now I had her convinced to let me do more.

“Does your uncle ever rub his penis thing between your legs?”

“He used to do it all the time, but mummy made him stop. That was the part I think I liked best,” she added, with the tiniest of giggles.

“Well, let’s try that, only this time me on the bottom like I said, I stripped off my pants and shorts. “Does that look like your uncle?” I asked her, pointing at my half erect cock which lay to one side...

“Yes, but he’s a lot bigger than you are,” she told me.

I lay back on the bench and helped guide her up so she was laying on my stomach. I pulled her down a little having to fold the infernal silk hijab away. “Does your uncle kiss you?”

“Sometime, that’s a part that I like really like, when we put our tongues in each other’s mouths and kiss.”

I took the lead and gave her a kiss. It wasn’t an open mouthed kiss, but it was a lingering one. I kissed her several more times, and finally felt her tongue probe my lips. I sucked her tongue into my mouth and began playing with her. As she started to again heat up, I began repositioning our bodies so that at the right time, I could try to advance my cock to where I wanted it, fully engulfed in her pubescent body.