Chapter 2: Returning Home and 'The Bath'

My trailer must have seemed a stark contrast to her home. The only similarities between the two were that both were small single-wide trailers sitting on small lots on the same street. My trailer was new, well lit and clean. The yard had a short chain-link fence, shrubs and grass, with a border of flowers along the paved driveway. That contrast was heightened by the dingy appearance of most of the surrounding trailers and lots. The new look of my trailer and lot was more a result of repairing the damages of a recent hurricane rather than of upgrading the trailer park.

None of this was my doing. This trailer was a temporary residence made necessary so I could evaluate the pros and cons of purchasing the park from the current owner. I had a hands-on approach to my businesses and had been given thirty days to make my decision. The current owner had hoped to impress me by putting me in his newest rental, furnished with sturdy traditional furniture and new appliances. I had been here off and on for about ten days and had yet to see his books on the day-to-day expenses of the park. The recent foray into Cindy's home had me thinking that the park's value might be much less than I had imagined.

As we entered and closed the door she relaxed and stood a few feet from the door looking about. The layout of the new trailer was not that much different from the one we had left, but the atmosphere was completely different. Where her trailer had been worn, shabby and dark; this place was warm, bright and clean. The living room had a soft carpet, bright pictures on the wall, an overstuffed sofa, two recliners and a wide-screen TV, off at the moment. I broke the silence by quietly telling her to make herself at home while I took the laundry basket and set it on the washer.

Timidly, she moved around, first exploring the kitchen on the other side of the partition from the living room, and then into the hallway and the rest of the small trailer. As I watched her, I mused that she seemed to be doing exactly the same thing that my cat, Mr. Whiskers, had done when I first brought him here ten days ago. I heard her squeal from the back, as she shouted, "a kitty!" and knew she had found Mr. Whiskers, probably on my bed where he loved to lie in the early evening. She came back into the living room, carrying Mr. Whiskers, bundled in her arms. Mr. Whiskers accepted her better than I expected, being the independent soul that he was. Cindy had a smile on her face that was brighter than her surroundings. All her cares and worries seemed to have dissolved in the few moments between the bedroom and the living room. She sat Mr. Whiskers down on the floor and sat down beside him, stroking his soft fur and listening as he purred his satisfaction with the attention.

Seeing that she was momentarily occupied, I excused myself and went back to the washer and put her clothes in to wash. I was able to get them all in one load, even though the washer was a smaller model, designed for trailers. I then went to the master bathroom, with its larger garden tub, and started running warm water. As the trailer was a bit chilly, for a bath, I bumped up the thermostat two degrees and moved back to the living room. I had hurriedly accomplished all of this, not wanting to leave Cindy alone in this strange place. I need not have worried though, as she was totally immersed in making friends with Mr. Whiskers, looking more like a little girl than a teen at the moment. I'm not sure she even realized that I had left the room.

I saw my opportunity when Mr. Whiskers seemed to say, "Enough," and got up and walked back towards his more familiar haunts. As Cindy looked around, I asked her if she wanted to take a bath. She said, "Yes, please," and stood up, moving towards the sound of running water, shedding clothes as she moved down the short hallway. I was amused by her complete lack of modesty around me. I later found out that she had so completely placed her trust in me that she felt no inhibitions towards me. She told me that her trust for me was due to my rescuing her from the nightmare of her attack and from the love that she felt as I invited her into my home.

However, she said that the lack of inhibitions at that moment was because she had been bathing in cold water at home for so long that the thought of a warm bath was simply overpowering. So, for various reasons, I found myself picking up her dress and panties and following her back into the master bedroom and then the master bath, stopping on the way to add her discarded clothes to those already in the washer.

As I came through the bedroom and looked into the bath, Cindy was just getting into the tub. Following her through the hallway I had begun to realize how much like a little girl she was. As I was musing on that, suddenly things changed. Stepping up on the side of the large tub, she bent forward and felt the water, to make sure it was not too hot. In that bending I was treated to a view that quickly and completely made me understand that she was much more an adult than a child. That view actually had a dramatic physical effect on me and the evidence of this was felt as my cock tightened within my shorts. I stopped before reaching the door to adjust myself so as not to be uncomfortable and I hoped the bulge in my shorts wasn't too noticeable as I moved into the bathroom. Cindy had stepped into the water and was standing there as it was a bit too hot for her to sit down in right away. Rather than leave, as I should have, I moved to cut off the hot water and let the cold water decrease the temperature at the tub. I turned back to see her, still standing and was treated to the sight of a nearly nude pussy accented by only a few wisps of light blond hair.

She was in a word, beautiful. Earlier I had decided that her eyes were mesmerizing, but here I was less than a foot away from her smooth, slightly rounded mound and I was stopped cold. There was no blemish on the smoothest, fairest skin that I had ever seen. The gentle slope of her not yet fully developed labia was more lovely than anything Hamilton had ever photographed. Although I had seen countless pictures of young girls on various newsgroups on the Internet, the proximity of her sex was disarming. I suddenly felt overwhelmed, as if I was a young boy looking at his first Playboy centerfold. I know it must be obvious to Cindy that I was staring at her pussy but I just couldn't stop.

My first coherent thought was that I had surely frightened her but when I finally looked up into her eyes she seemed both puzzled and amused. I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing as I cut off the cold water. She sat down in the tub and I tried not to be so obvious with my glances as I kneeled on the floor outside of the tub. She smiled at me and then slowly stretched back in the tub putting her hands behind her head and resting her head on the end of the tub. She moved her feet out to the sides of the tub to keep her balance and as if to give me a better look. I was thinking that from head to toe, even with the scratches and dirty hair, she was a vision of beauty. After a moment, she broke the silence by dreamily exclaiming, "Perfect! Just right! Mr. Jim, you have no idea how good a warm bath feels after nothing but cold showers. I could stay in here all night."

I smiled, thinking "and I could stay here watching you all night," but I said, "I'm glad you are enjoying it."

After a few minutes of enjoyment, for both of us, she sat up and looked around for the soap. The garden tub was a combination shower and bath and, since I had used it last as a shower, the soap was on a shower dish that was out of her reach. I reached up and got the bar of soap and asked if she would prefer a washcloth or a loofa. She looked puzzled and said she never used a washcloth and had no idea what a "loofa" was. I smiled and watched her lather up, using her hands to soap her body. I had been hoping that she might ask me to wash her as I had read in some fantasy stories on the Internet. She was used to bathing herself and later told me she didn't think I would want to get wet bathing her. She seemed to be comfortable with me watching and I tried not to let show how much I enjoyed looking at her body. She began with her feet, soaping each one and carefully washing between the toes before moving up her legs. She stopped as she got to a reddened scratch and bruise on her thigh and carefully washed around it. I looked at the scratch and told her that we would get some antiseptic to keep it from getting infected. She looked up at me and asked "Won't that hurt?" I assured her that I had some cream that would not burn or hurt her. She then smiled and said "I didn't think you would do anything to hurt me." I hoped that I would have the resolve to keep from hurting her in other ways.