It was a warm day, 70's I guess. It's the spring of 2001 on the Florida coastline. I have a house out here about a block from the ocean. I moved here to be alone. After cashing out all my dot com stocks before they became dot bomb I had a sum of money enough to buy this house and have money to take care of me forever. I spend my days on my front deck looking at the ocean and the people walking around down on Ocean Blvd. It was still too cold to get in the water, so people just wandered around. I have a Jacuzzi on my back deck. I put it on my back deck because it is very private back there.
Megan.... the neighbor girl... I still sigh when I think of her. She's 12, slim, skin perfectly tanned from the days spent at the beach. Blonde hair that stops about 6 inches below her shoulders. Big blue eyes. The biggest I have seen. Specks of green highlighted them to give an iridescent look. She is always smiling. Her parents have given her a life where she wants for nothing. She is home schooled and lives on a beach. How could things get better for your average 12 year old? School starts at 8:00am and ends at 12:00pm. The teacher is not her parents, but a tutor they have on payroll. Both of her parents work full days. She is home alone from 12:00 to 6:00. She's allowed to go to the beach, but not allowed to swim. Her parents feel comfortable with her being alone. She is old enough, plus everyone knows everyone around here.
The first time I spotted her I was sitting on my deck watching people and the ocean. A cute little girl waves goodbye to a lady carrying a leather bag. She ran back into the house. I have not got the paper yet, so I go downstairs and pick it up. My house was still a little askew from the move. I had not had time to unpack all the boxes or put pictures on the walls. I have not even made the time to meet any of my neighbors. I grab a Coke out of the fridge and collect my paper from the box. I sit down in a chair I have on the porch. I open up the paper and begin to read the business section. Habit I guess. I have no real business now. I get about 5 minutes into it, and I hear a little voice behind the paper. "Who are you?"
I fold the paper down and am stuck with beauty. Speechless at first, but quickly gain my composure. "I'm Justin. I just moved in."
She is beautiful... wearing short blue jean shorts and a little half shirt with the word "Princess" written on it in glitter. Damn right she is a princess. Her stomach is beautiful. Tanned tight and a cute little belly button. She has got on a pair of sandals. I have a real foot fetish, so this is great for me.
"Have you got any kids?"
"Nope, I'm not even married."
"Oh, well, my name is Megan. I live right there." She points to her house.
"I'm 12, and don't go to school."
"Have you graduated yet?" I tease her.
"No, I am home schooled."
"Alright. Sorry I don't have any kids for you to play with."
"That's OK. No one else does either. Everyone around here is super-old. This place is a ghost town until May."
I am amazed at her beauty. I have been a pedro all my life, and have seen my fair share of little girls. This one is a true specimen of nymphet. Humbert warns about these types of girls in the book "Lolita". The ones that are quite seductive, but don't even know it. I am worried. This could get out of control.
"What do you do during the day?" I ask her.
"Nothing really, just sit around reading or playing on the computer. Whatever will keep me busy until 6:00."
"What happens at 6:00?"
"My parents get home."
"Oh." My mind races. I can have this girl to myself, maybe, for six hours a day... If I play my cards right.
"I love to go swimming, but since it is too cold to swim, I can't"
"Oh. Well, it will be warm soon."
"I just like being in water... I take a bath everyday!"
Again my mind races... she likes water... I have a Jacuzzi... imagine the possibilities.
"Don't you guys have a Jacuzzi?"
"No... daddy won't buy one."
"No kidding... I have one. If you ever want to swim, just ask."
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Mr Double's Palisade A MrDouble Production:
Changes last made on: Friday, March 8, 2002