Cindy - Cover

Cindy

Copyright© 2011 by oyster50

Chapter 12

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 12 - Dan’s an engineer living in an RV park during a construction project. Cindy is thirteen, living with her trashy mom in the same park. Dan knows his job. He knows his life. He doesn't know how Cindy will be part of it.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   First   Oral Sex   Slow   Geeks  

Monday. I'm not a Monday-phobe, but when the alarm went off I was immediately plastered with a t-shirt-clad Cindy. Kisses. And she started to slide down in the bed. Nothing but the most sterling amount of dedication kept me from just calling in sick. "No, baby."

"Awww, just little bit? An' you can do me?"

"Okay. Just a little bit."

We had our little bit. Got going five minutes late, purposefully moving around the trailer, two cereal bowls, the coffee going, clothes, faces washed, her hair beautifully brushed. TV on to catch the morning news and weather. At seven I was out the door headed to work and Cindy was ten minutes from getting on the bus to school.

I hummed through the day, invoices, change orders, field sketches, pointing out things to the construction crew I dealt with. It wasn't even hard. It's what I had been doing for years and I was good at it. That's why I was here. But four o'clock couldn't come fast enough for me. I didn't need to lose myself in work anymore. I had a life. A five foot three inch, redheaded, green-eyed, freckled life. I didn't hang around after four.

I guess Cindy and Helen were watching for me when I turned my truck into the park, because Cindy waved me to the office.

I walked in. Cindy was leaning halfway across the counter, her arms folded under her, a position that accentuated a pair of small, but very much delectable breasts. "I was just tellin' Mizz Helen about our weekend."

Helen smiled. "Sounds like you're giving her the world."

"Nah," I answered, "I'm just showin' her parts of it. She decides what she wants to get and how to work for it."

"She said you're buying her a ring?"

I looked Helen, then at Cindy. Cindy smiled. "I want to. She wants one. We decided that it won't LOOK like an engagement ring."

"But it is," said Cindy.

"Sweet girl," said Helen. "Take care of her, Dan..."

"It's my life's goal now. Not to change the subject, but we're still doing nine o'clock at the school?"

"Uh-huh," answered Helen. "I may even put on a dress."

"What? And ruin my image of you?"

"Hah! You ought to see me dressed up to go out with the judge. Maybe we can double date some time."

"Nuh-uh," I said. "I ain't rubbin' his nose in this."

"Ain't like that, Dan. He's interested. Wants to make sure things are good between you and Cindy..."

"They're good!" chirped Cindy. "Real good." And the little thing looked at me with a wink that would have been an exaggeration in a vaudeville act.

"Okay, you," I said. "D'ya have homework?"

"Of course. About twenty minutes worth. Let's do some laps at the pool."

"Okay, Helen, I guess I'll see you at school in the morning, then. Let me go drown this girl."

And we went to the trailer, swapped street clothes for bathing suits. I had the same old trunks I've worn for two years. Cindy looked like something off a magazine cover in her new bikini. I swallowed. I extended a towel to her. "Wrap this around you while we walk to the pool," I said.

"But, Dan, you've seen more than this."

"Yeah, I have. But nobody else has. Humor me. For a little while, at least."

"Okay," she said. We walked to the pool. She shed the towel as soon as we were inside the fenced enclosure. And she was in the water.

I went in with her. We did a few laps. I'd coached her into a pretty decent crawl stroke, and she cut the water alongside me for fifteen minutes of swimming, then we both hung in the water on the deep end of the pool, cooling. I felt her sidle against me, her hip bumping mine.

She took a deep, cleansing breath. "That's a good exercise, huh?"

"Yeah. We need something to get rid of all the fried catfish."

Giggles. "Well, we do other exercises, too, you know. We get quite aerobic, don'tcha know..."

"You're an evil, lusty little girl. I may just have to keep you to myself so you won't get in trouble."

Her laughter tinkled in my ears. "I'm already in trouble. I let myself fall in love with some ol' guy an' sometimes I love him so much I can't see straight."

It's a good thing we had the pool to ourselves, because I couldn't stop myself from kissing her. And the kiss got me a squeeze on the bulge in my trunks.

"Come on! Let's get out. We have to figure out supper."

We were toweling off beside the pool. "Let's make Monday a salad day."

"Salad?" I asked.

"Yeah, you know ... green stuff. Like they serve before your fried catfish platter?" Her green eyes glittered mirthfully.

"Oh, yeah ... salad. That's a twenty mile drive."

"What else are you gonna do?" she asked.

"Take you to supper, get your homework done, watch TV, and then go make love to the most remarkable woman I've ever met."

Smirk. "She sounds great! When am I gonna meet her?"

"Where'd you learn to be such a butt?" I laughed.

Walking past the office, we caught Helen locking up. I waved. Cindy unwrapped her towel to show Helen her new bathing suit. My cellphone was ringing when I walked in the trailer. Helen.

"Yes ma'am," I answered.

"Lord, Dan, don't let her wear that thing on weekends. You're gonna have to pack a gun."

"Tell me about it. The one-piece was bad enough. I may just have to make her wear a gunny sack."

"You just make sure you watch her. I don't think SHE'd do anything. But half the population is male..."

"Yeah, I know."

"Okay, seeya tomorrow. Nine."

"Yes'm. Bye."

"What was THAT about? Me?"

"Yeah. You an' your bikini. Mizz Helen said the same thing I did. I need to watch you."

She wrapped me up in a hug. "You can watch me naked. I'm takin' a shower."

Just under half an hour later I was feeling civilized, freshly shaved, and Cindy was charming simplicity, face glowing, hair perfectly combed and shining, jeans and a simple cotton blouse. We left to chase the elusive south Alabama salad.

On a tip from one of the secretaries at the project, I headed to a medium-sized town fifteen miles away where there was a little restaurant run by two elderly ladies who struggled to make a living providing a genteel setting and food that didn't involve vats of boiling oil. They cooed over the image that my Cindy presented. There were two or three other couples in the place, and we got royal treatment. And the place actually had some good-looking vegetable dishes. We had our salads. With a nice vinaigrette, thank you. And steamed asparagus with fresh hollandaise. And portobello mushrooms stuffed with rice pilaf.

We left with promises to return.

Back to the trailer. Homework. Took longer to write the answers than find them again. And we talked about where you could go with the math and science she was studying. I didn't need to talk to her about English. She was blossoming in language skills in our daily conversations. After homework, the stereo came on, not the TV. And books came out. We passed an hour at opposite ends of the sofa, our legs tangled in the middle, reading.

Until bedtime. Pre-Cindy, I was usually in bed at ten and asleep by ten-thirty. With Cindy, We were in bed by nine-thirty, and worn out by ten-thirty. I used to take a sleeping aid. Cindy's enthusiastic body WAS a sleeping aid. Just like tonight, when we sixty-nined each other to orgasm, then cuddled into blissful slumber to the soaring strains of the masters.

Tuesday mornings weren't much different from Mondays. The routine was the same. Right down to the kiss before I left.

I just puttered around the project when I got there, knowing better than to get too involved in anything that I couldn't interrupt. At eight-thirty I was out the gate headed for Cindy's middle school. At least it was Alabama and a big pickup truck wasn't too out of place in the parking spaces. I walked into the unfamiliar surrounds of the middle school in my standard work outfit: safety shoes, canvas cargo pants, a denim shirt, and a pocket protector full of pens and pencils. Hey, what do you expect? I'm an engineer!

I announced my intentions and signed in, and in a few minutes I was summoned by a member of the school's administrative staff. I followed her to the counselor's office. Entering, I smiled at Helen and Cindy and introduced myself to the counselor, a guy about my age, stocky, a little shorter than me. Haircut was just a little bit on the civilian side of whitewall. I looked on his wall for the expected evidence. Yep! There it is. Honorable discharge for a Marine first lieutenant. And a framed picture of a younger version of him with a flight suit, standing next to a Harrier. I shook his hand. He pointed me into a chair next to Cindy.

Inwardly I was already cheering that I wasn't facing down some be-spectacled product of the education establishment who'd NEVER been outside the greenhouses of academe.

He spoke. "I was just telling Mizz Helen (why was she Mizz Helen to everybody?) that we got Cindy's test scores back."

I glanced at Cindy, then Mizz Helen.

He started his spiel. "First, we want to say that Cindy is a whole lot different student than she was the last two years. Last year she was a, let's see..." He flipped up a page on the stack on his desk, "oh, a C student. So far this year, it's all A's. We're very happy. And as you know, all our students took a screening test on the second day of class (I didn't know that) and based on THAT score, we selected her to take these tests. Mizz Helen ... Dan ... Cindy's in the wrong classes." He looked at me. "You're smiling."

"Yessir," I said, "you see, Mizz Helen asked me if I'd tutor Cindy at the beginning of school. Sort of help her with her homework. She doesn't need help with homework."

"How so?" he asked.

"Math. She brought home a lesson on squares and square roots. She caught that, really fast, I thought. I'm an electrical engineer, so I thought I'd give her something to chew on. I asked her to do me a square root of a negative number. She gets it. I know degreed engineers who don't get that. Do you know trig? Polar to Cartesian conversions? I use 'em at work. I showed her ONCE."

He smiled. "Yeah, that's what I thought after talking to her teachers."

Helen interrupted. "So you're sayin' that Cindy's smart?"

We both spoke at the same time, "Yes."

"So what's the bottom line," I asked. "What kind of programs do you have for her here?"

"Folks," he said, "we're just a rural Alabama school system. We don't have much. I suppose we could talk about moving her up a couple of grades, but I personally don't care for that. I can offer it, though, for ya'll to talk about." He directed his eyes to Cindy. "Little lady," he said, "d'you have any idea what you want to be?"

Cindy smiled and looked at me and then at him. "An engineer. An ELECTRICAL engineer."

He looked at Helen. Helen said, "Well, Dan's probably the first guy she ever knew that had a job that didn't involve a chainsaw or a tractor."

He looked back at Cindy. "Little lady, that's a big bite to chew on. But I just think you can do it." He paused. "Dan ... Mizz Helen ... Ya'll think about that movin' up thing. Trouble is, she'd be stickin' out like a sore thumb in high school, and you know that high school is more than just what happens in the classrooms. Besides, if she's in the top one percent here, she's going to be in the top one percent there, too. And outrunning THOSE teachers. So I'm gonna look at some programs you might be able to do at home, and get you some information. Ya'll got internet, I'm guessing?"

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