We had been transfered to a city in the mid-west. My wife of three years was pregnant with our second child. Our son was two and was really looking forward to having a little brother or sister. I had been with my company for four years and was sent to bring this division back to profitable. The job required lots of travel all over the state and I was gone four nights a week. The travel situation didn't take long to cause trouble in the marriage. I always had weekends off and would come home on Friday evening and we would start arguing. She wanted me to go back to my previous position and be at home more. I was to ambitious to have any of that kind of talk.
When our second child, another boy, was born I stayed home as much as possible but it didn't take long and I was on the road again. Three months after the baby arrived my wife started taking trips home to see her parents and with the children in tow would be gone for one to two weeks at a time. This went on for months on end. She would come home, stay a month, sometimes a little longer, then off again. She was lonely and I really couldn't blame her. It allowed me to get my business going in the right direction and I was determined to keep it that way.
I loved taking care of our yard and would spend all day Saturday doing yardwork. I even took some afternoons off early when I was in town and would plant shrubs and flowers. I had never had a yard before, having always lived in apartments. I was really into making our place the best looking house on the block.
My wife had made friends with all the neighbors and all the ladies loved to come over and help tend to the newest baby in the neighborhood. Somehow our house became the hangout for not only the ladies but most of the children. We had a huge backyard and I had purchased all the usual swings, slides and climbing structures that little kids love.
There was one single mother that became a close friend of my wifes. She had a daughter, Angela, who was 10 and a younger son, Ben who was about the same age as our oldest son. I didn't really care for the mother, I thought her too loud and she would constantly yell at her son to stop doing whatever he was doing. I thought he was just being a little boy. The daughter was quiet and usually just sat and listened while the two ladies chatted. Angela wasn't beautiful but was tall for her age and had already started getting breasts. The small mounds were visible beneath her little shirts and tops that she always wore. There was just something about her that made me take notice of her. I became disappointed when ever her Mother would come over and she wasn't with her.
My wife shared all the neighborhood gossip with me and I half listened to some of the details. I would pay particular attention whenever the talk turned to Angelas Mom.
She was twice divorced and had had a string of guy freinds over the last couple of years. She worked for a trucking company and from what I gathered would help to entertain some of the drivers when they were in the area and had layovers. I was saddened to learn that more than one of these men had tried to molest Angela.
One summer afternoon I was out working in my yard when Angela stopped by to visit with my wife. She was alone and I knew she had always come with her Mom before. I explained that my wife had gone to see her folks unexpectedly and would be gone until the next week. She seemed disappointed and started to leave. I was attracted to this young girl and really didn't want her to leave so I started making small talk to keep her there. I asked her questions about a soccer team that I had heard she played on, what position she played and I kidded her about her bruised up legs and knees. She had on a little yellow top that readily showed her little bussom and a light green skirt that showed her legs. She was quite animated explaining all the bruises and just how they had come about. She lifted her little skirt to show me a rather nasty bruise on her right thigh. She had very shapely legs for such a young girl and I was thoroughly enjoying the view. I think she noticed I was staring a little too long and quickly dropped her skirt.
All the while we talked I continued to work in the flower bed at the front of the house right by our front steps. I kept talking and asked her about her other interests, anything to keep her there. She told me she was on her school swim team and hoped to join the tennis team in the fall. I told her I thought she would be really good at tennis because of her height. She gave me a hurt look when I mentioned that particular feature. I had seen her with other boys and girls around her same age and she was definetly taller than all of them. She told me that the boys at school made fun of her because she was so tall. Her Mother wasn't all that tall so I asked her if her Dad was tall and maybe that is where she got her height. She told me she really couldn't remember her Dad that well but that her Mother had told her he was six two. I tried to put her at ease and told her the boys would catch up soon and all would be well. She said she had heard that plenty of times before and couldn't wait for the day.
I asked Angela if she would like to help me plant some flowers since I had so many to plant. She said sure and joined me on the sidewalk in front of the flower bed.
I had over watered the area and so it was really to muddy and hard to work with. But we dug in and planted row after row of flowers until she said her Mom should be home with her brother soon and she had better get home. Her hands were covered in mud up past her wrists and I offered her the opportunity to wash up before she left.
We went in thru the front door and into the kitchen. I told her to use the kitchen sink and handed her the bottle of soap. She was having trouble getting all the mud off her hands so I squirted more soap onto her hands and began working the soap in with my hands. She flinched at my touch but I told her she was going to have to scrub harder to get all that mud off. She seemed to accept that as reasonable, I stood directly behind her and worked both our hands together making a real muddy mess of the sink. I was thoroughly enjoying rubbing our hands together and I had stepped in close to her until I was leaning against her bottom with my mid-section. I could smell her. It was heat and sweat and just a hint of her little girl perfume or soap that she had used that day. I began to get hard and she sensed it immediately. I backed off quickly and grabbed the towel and began drying both our hands. She looked up over her shoulder at me with a very questioning look and perhaps a trace of fear. She saw her Moms car drive by on the street out front and said she needed to get going. I backed completely off and thanked her for all her help and then she was gone.
I lay in bed that night thinking about her. Why was I so attracted to such a young girl. Sure she was cute, sure there was something about her that I liked. It may have had something to do with her long brown hair and those cute little freckles on her face. Was it because she was usually quiet and sort of mysterious? We made love for the first time that night... in my dreams.