Cindy - Cover

Cindy

Copyright© 2011 by oyster50

Chapter 16

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 16 - 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  

And the alarm went off on Monday morning. We shared a very sensual cuddle and got up and started the rest of the routine. By seven I was out the door headed to work and she was waiting for the school bus.

Arrived at the project, just like always. Walked in, fired up the computer, started a pot of coffee and was tapping out the replay to an email when Sara walked in.

Her first words were, "That was some cute young lady you brought in Friday."

"Yeah, she's a cutie, all right. She's also scary smart. I started helping her with her homework and she was interested in what engineers do, so I told her that if she had good grades, I'd bring her out for the tour."

"That was sweet of you. What'd she think?" Sara asked.

I smiled. "She says she wants to be like you and make people's lives miserable."

"Uh, she didn't say THAT!"

"No, really, she did, but she was laughing. I told her what you really do."

Sara laughed, "What? Sit around all day eatin' bon-bons and polishin' my nails?"

"That too," I laughed.

The rest of my day was normal, except for hearing at least a dozen comments about Cindy's visit. Most of them were suitable for polite company, but it WAS a construction site, and a couple of the comments were somewhat suggestive. "Jailbait" was in one of them. "They didn't have THOSE when I was young" was a comment from an older co-worker.

Finally Monday came to an end and I drove to the RV park. Cindy was at the office with Helen when I checked in.

"Cindy says ya'll have had a busy weekend," Helen said.

"Yeah, you and the judge Friday, a concert Saturday, supper at Jim Hardesty's house yesterday. I had to go to work to get some rest."

Cindy smiled. "Anybody say anything about me there Friday?"

"EVERYBODY asked about you," I said. "You are a memorable thing on a construction site."

"Do you have homework?" I asked.

"The normal stuff. Mr. Hardesty waved at me in the hall today, too. That's pretty cool, you playing music with him and Mizz Ann."

"Ya'll played music?" Helen questioned.

"Yeah, his wife plays fiddle, he plays banjo, and I can do a little on a bass guitar and we did some bluegrass stuff."

"Awww! I wish I could've heard that," she said.

"I dunno," I said, "I'm kind of rusty. But it was fun."

Cindy said, "They were GOOD! I never heard live music before, and they were having fun!"

We laughed and chatted for a while longer before Cindy and I headed to our trailer. "I looked at her. "We need to go find you a bicycle."

"What kind of bicycle?"

I said, "Nothing too fancy. Just something we can ride around parks and stuff. We'll go tomorrow. No, wait. I promised Jim Hardesty I'd meet him at the airport. He's got the flying itch again."

"Can I come?" Cindy asked.

"Of course. You're my little shadow, as far as Jim's concerned."

She smiled. "That sounds good. What are we doing this evening? I mean, the pool's closed."

"I know," I said. "Wanna go for a ride before dinner?"

"Yeah. And we can end up at that salad place for dinner. It'll be good for us."

"You got it, sweetie," I said. We drove off. I had a goal in mind, acting on advice from some co-workers, I had a lead on a secluded campsite not too far away from the park. That's where we headed. It was one of those "and then turn off the paved road" places, and just wouldn't have been accessible to a vehicle less capable than my big pickup truck, but after a bit of trying, with Cindy squealing a couple of times as we rode through some rather muddy spots, we emerged on the bank of a creek deep in the woods.

"So this is the place?" she asked. "We're gonna come camp here? And sleep in a tent? And it's supposed to be fun?"

"Yep!" I said. "We try it at least one time. If you don't like it, we don't do it anymore. If you do like it, well, then we can do it again." We got out and walked around. There was a space between the treeline and the creek, about twenty yards of short grass, and then a sandy bank. There was evidence of some previous camping activity, but here between hunting season and summer, it was deserted and I was told that very little activity ever occurred. And that there were no questions about people camping there. I saw the creek, clear, swift water, suitable for swimming and bathing, and there was enough fallen deadwood for a fire, and I was pretty sure that we'd have to visit the place soon.

Cindy looked around, walked down to the water's edge. "We can swim here?"

"Yeah. Don't know how deep it is, though. And it's probably cold. Looks cold."

As I was saying this, Cindy was slipping her shoes and socks off. I watched step into the creek. "Yes, it is cold. Not too bad, but a lot colder than the pool."

"That'll make your nipples perkier than usual."

"Ummm," she giggled. "You're a dirty old man, thinkin' about a young girl's nipples."

"Actually I'm thinking of a moonlit skinny dip..."

She laughed. "Exactly what I had in mind, love," she said. "I wish it was dark right now..."

"Me too," I said. "Maybe next weekend, huh?" This comment was just as a canoe with a couple of paddlers rounded the bend from upstream. I gestured in that direction. "That's why we're not naked right now..."

"Uh-huh." She smiled. And we waved at the people in the canoe, watched as they passed, paddles glistening in the sunlight. Then we returned to the truck and rumbled back through the woods and up the road to the little restaurant.

The ladies who owned the place recognized us immediately. I knew it wasn't me they remembered. It was that red hair and green eyes of my young partner. We were seated immediately and along with menus we were informed of some specials that they whip together, delicious-sounding combinations of vegetables and pork or chicken. We dined well, and afterward as the table was cleared, we talked with first one, then both the owners about the business and the area. It was a pleasant evening.

It was even more pleasant getting Cindy home before eight and lounging around on the sofa, deliciously entangled together after our showers, then to bed for a gentle and satisfying sharing of love.

Tuesday came and we stepped through the routine. It was a pleasant thing to leave the trailer with Cindy's kiss on my lips and the scent of her in my head. Work was work. No big fires to put out. No hurdles to jump. That was one reason that I was hired, to keep excitement at a low level. Four o'clock and I was running out the gate.

When I got to the park, I found my jeans-clad baby talking with Helen at the front office. "Hi, Helen," I said.

"Hey, Dan," she replied. "Charley was impressed Friday night."

"Must've been Cindy." This got a smile from Cindy.

"Actually, it was both of you. He told me that after meeting you two, he was quite a bit more certain that he'd made the right decision."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," Helen continued. "Said he was surprised you showed up wearing a suit and Cindy looked very proper and pretty and he could see how you two belonged together."

Cindy said, "He's a nice man. He knows how to tell stories."

Helen laughed. "Yes, he does. I just wanted ya'll to know what he thought."

"I was wondering," I said. "He's everything I'd imagined he'd be. You two an item yet?"

It was Helen's turn to blush. "You know ... I just might be makin' that decision. It's gotten to the point that we had supper with his son and his family."

"And the son approved?"

"Yeah. The son used to go to the huntin' camp with his dad and my husband, and I used to run the camp every fall. He knows me. I used to feed 'im pie and run 'im out of my kitchen."

"Oh, great! You pissed off the DA."

Helen laughed. "Yeah. Cindy says you're goin' to go flyin' with her guidance counselor?"

"Yeah. You know he's a Marine pilot?"

"That's what Cindy said."

"Yes, ma'am," I said. "And if you'll excuse me, I need to go change shoes. It's hard to fly wearin' steel-toe boots."

"Ya'll go have fun," Helen laughed.

Cindy and I left and scooted over to the trailer. Once inside, my original task of changing shoes was extended just a little bit while we kissed. Then we were out the door and on the road.

"You're in the back seat today, sweetie."

"I figured that part out. I'll be okay." She smiled. "But we haven't flown since the first time. I really want to go again."

"We will, babe. And we're going to fly home in it for Thanksgiving, too."

Squeal. "We're going to your real home?"

"Nope," I said. "We're going to my OLD home. Thanksgiving with my sister and brother."

Her brow wrinkled. "Your OLD home?"

"Yes. My new home is wherever WE are."

"Awwww ... You're so sweet." She paused a second, thinking. "But what are you going to tell your sister and brother?"

"Just a teeny tiny little lie or two. I'm going to tell them you're eighteen. And we're married."

Another squeal. "You think they'll believe you?"

"What are they gonna do, ask to see your driver's license?"

Green eyes narrowed. "I don't know..."

I continued, "They're my brother and sister. I don't think we have a problem."

We were unlocking the T-hangar when Jim Hardesty drove up. "Hi, Dan! Hi, Miss Cindy!" he said.

"Hi, Mr. Hardesty," Cindy chirped.

"Hey, Jim. Push a door." He and I pushed the doors open on the hangar, revealing the other woman in my life.

"Well, I'll be damned," he said. "She looks nice, Dan!"

I laughed. "Cindy? Or the plane."

Jim chuckled. "Both. But Cindy's not forty. You spent some bucks keepin' this old girl in THIS shape."

"I spent a dime or two. Engine's been overhauled to new. And the prop. And I gave a mechanic a blank check on the airframe. She's not show quality, but she sure is 'go' quality. Let's drag 'er out." We pushed the plane out onto the apron and the three of us did the pre-flight. Cindy climbed the ladder to check fuel levels with a dipstick.

While she was up on the ladder, Jim asked, "She knows what she's doing?"

"Showed her once. That's all it takes with Cindy."

"Yeah. That's what her teachers say."

"Uh, guys, it's NOT polite to talk about somebody when she's right there," Cindy said. "Mr. Dan, you have about three-quarters of a tank. Twice." She climbed down and before I could do it, she folded the ladder and carried it back to the hangar.

Cindy was the first into the plane, buckling herself into the back seat. Jim took the passenger seat, "because it's YOUR plane and I haven't flown in a decade." And I got in the pilot's seat. In five more minutes we were in the air and Jim was at the controls, his round face grinning.

I spoke into my headset. "It's yours. Just remember, plus four G's, minus three, and Cindy's on her SECOND flight of her life and there's only two barf bags."

"Oh, man," Jim said. "This is great. I know. I already tried to find the gun switch."

We flew around. Jim ran us through the operating envelope: slow, hanging on the prop, and steep turns, and a few stalls. I looked over my shoulder hoping that Cindy was turning green. Cindy was grinning widely. "Mister Dan, you didn't show me all THIS stuff the first time!"

Dan popped in, "Oh, I'm sorry Cindy! Am it getting' too radical?"

"Oh, no sir! This is GREAT!"

I smiled. Two happy people. Make that three. Me too. We made a great circuit of the local area, then the shadows on the ground started to lengthen and it was time to go home.

"Plane's yours, Dan," said Jim. "I've never landed a taildragger."

"Then follow along with me. Just requires some footwork and make sure you're pointed in the direction you're traveling when the wheels touch down." We shot a couple of touch and goes and then landed for real, taxing to the hangar.

I grabbed Cindy by the waist and helped her down as the three of us exited. We pushed the plane back into the hangar and closed and locked the door.

"Wow!" Jim laughed. "That was great! Makes me want to get current again." And my own...

"It's expensive, man."

"Yeah, I know," said Jim. "But I'm thinking of long vacations and stuff, an' this one'll do the whole family."

"Yeah, it will. You should've seen what they were haulin' with it in Alaska."

"This was a bush plane?"

"Yep. I flew it back to the Lower 48 after I finished a job up there."

"Man! I might have to dip into the savings for one of these."

"Wanna go to dinner with me an' Cindy? That's our next stop." I smiled.

"Yeah, Mister Jim. Come have dinner!" Cindy injected.

"No, I need to get home tonight. But, golly, thanks!" Jim shook hands with both of us. Cindy waved as he drove off.

"You sure made HIM happy!" she smiled. "And me too! All those maneuvers ... He knows what he's doing?"

"Baby, he's a Marine aviator. He's so far above me in pilot cred that it's scary. He knows everything we did today. It's just that with this little plane, the numbers are all different. Like a baby carriage compared with an Indy car."

"Oh ... But it's your plane. You can do all that stuff in YOUR plane."

"Yes, I can. And since I am now convinced that you won't barf all over, I will show you what we did and why." I paused. "Come on. We have a stop to make before supper."

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