Annie was bouncing up and down, pulling my arm. "Daddy, they're doing fireworks at Puddle Park."
The park wasn't really called Puddle Park. That was a nickname. At the bottom of three steep hills, the park filled with water after any rainstorm. The local weather forecaster would report how much rain we got by how much of the swing sets were submerged. High and dry above the depression were parking lots for visiting citizens.
"So, Daddy, will you take us? Pleeeeese?"
'Us' was the shortcut for my daughter and her four closest friends. They went everywhere together. On our first outing, I got to know her friend and our neighbor Bree really well. Too well, in retrospect. I had taken her cherry on her eighteenth birthday. It wasn't my idea, really, although I guess I went along willingly. Then there was Marci, who fucked me like a bunny while I wearing an Easter bunny costume. I hadn't seen the girls as a group since then. Being with them caused me some concern.
Harriett walked by and butted in. "Go ahead, Harvey, you know you like fireworks."
I shrugged. "Okay, I'll drive you all to the park for the fireworks display."
"Yippee!" Annie went up on tippy toes and gave me a big kiss on the cheek.
And so I drove Harriett's van through the extended neighborhood, gathering the budding young women.
"Hello, Mr. Marcus," Bree greeted me warmly.
"Hi, Bree," I responded, uncomfortable at hiding our intimate liaison.
"Hi, Mr. Marcus," said Marci, grinning broader than necessary.
I promised myself that no repeat episodes like those would occur this night.
The girls seemed well prepared for the outing, with extra blankets, snacks and whatever else young girls carry in those oversized shoulder bags they use as purses. Although all of the girls were dressed for the warm weather, Sally was dressed the most provocatively. Her shorts were cut down from regular blue jeans, but cut so high the cheeks of her ass stuck out from the backs and the two front pockets hung down from the extremely brief clipping on the front. Her crop-top was at least one size too small, and there was clear evidence she had left her bra at home. I locked up the van and we paraded down the slope towards the bottom.
"Let's set up next to the sandbox," my daughter demanded.
Once she had something in her head, there was no negotiating. The recent rain had turned the sand into semi-permeable concrete. The ground was damp. Fortunately, we had brought a plastic drop cloth to put down, so as not to ruin the blankets. The ground was not only damp but also cold and it took several layers of blankets to made a warm patch. The girls were playfully roughhousing and Sally got pushed off the blanket onto the cold damp turf.
"Eeeeoooo, I'm soaked," she cried.
When she stood up, I saw that her shorts and exposed buttocks were wet and dirty from the ground.
"I need to go back up to the van and change. Mr. Marcus, could I please have the key?"
Annie shoved my shoulder. "Don't let her go alone, Daddy. We'll be okay here. There are still four of us."
I agreed, following Sally up the steep hill. More than once Sally lost her footing on the damp grass, and I had to grab her to prevent her from tumbling down the embankment, taking me with her. I had several opportunities to touch her body, each time making a frantic grab regardless of where my hand landed. Her safety, not my pleasure, was my concern. By the time we got to the parking lot, I had accidentally groped Sally all over. I was not unaffected by these chance opportunities. I unlocked the van and opened the rear hatch, where the girls had stowed still more backpacks and duffel bags. Sally bent forward, giving me an extended look at her dirty, exposed buttocks. She found her duffel and searched for a change of clothing.
"I was sure I packed a pair of jeans, for when it got colder. I guess I must have left them at home. At least I have a towel."
Sally faced me and rubbed the towel back and forth her backside like a hula dancer. The rest of her body swayed with the movement. I kept reminding myself of the Valentine's Day and Easter incidents and my promise to myself to avoid a repeat.
Sally handed me the towel.
"Did I get all of the wet spots, Mr. Marcus?" Sally asked, spinning around and bending over slightly. By dragging the towel back and forth, Sally had displaced the crotch material of her shorts. Even in the dim parking lot lighting, I could see part of her pussy exposed. "I think I have a wet spot. Could you get it for me?"
I wadded up the towel and passed it quickly over her behind, trying to keep my hands at a distance from her privates.
"You'll never get it that way."
Sally placed the towel flat on my hand and placed it in between her buttocks, manipulating it by moving my wrist.
"Ooh, that's better."
She was forcing me to rub her crotch. "Sally, I don't think -"
"Mr. Marcus, I'm hot as a fire cracker." Sally reached back and grabbed the front of my pants. "Ooh, and so are you. I really want to celebrate tonight with a bang."
Sally pulled the towel free but left my hand between her legs. She didn't have to move my wrist. I was out of control but in control, stroking her partially exposed and partially covered mound.
"Come on," she said, crawling into the back of the van. She released the middle seats and pushed them forward. Then she lay back on the thin carpeting. Her short shorts and panties were off in an instant. Her legs spread, she was waiting. For me. What was I going to do? "Get in and shut the hatch before anybody sees me," she demanded.
I didn't want any passers-by to see Sally exposed so I followed her orders. I was kneeling above her as she undid my belt and zipper. Her hand reached inside my shorts. "What are you doing? Stop that!"
"Bree said you were big but I didn't believe her. I should have used a bigger candle."
"So you planned this?" I asked, trying to ignore the effect her tiny hand was having, stroking my erection.
"Yeah, sure. Oh, you don't know! Today is my birthday. I'm eighteen tonight, and I want you to be my first real lover."
Damn it! These girls don't keep any secrets. How many of Annie's friends would eventually hear about the previous incidents, and worse, want their turns? "Sally, I'm really flattered, but this isn't right."
"Oh, so it was okay to fuck the shit out of Bree and Marci, but I'm not good enough. What, am I so ugly?"
Sally used both hands to pull up her tank top, leaving it to hang loose around her neck. Her small breasts were capped by medium sized brown patches and small nubbins in the centers.
"No, Sally, you're not ugly at all. You're very pretty."
Sally continued to work my penis with one hand and herself with the other.
"Then come closer and show how me how pretty I am."