When I was around 11 or 12, we had this friendly old neighbor, but he had a creepy side. He belonged to our church, so my parents never really had reason not to trust him and he would often volunteer to watch me when my parents went out. They used to go line dancing every friday night, so I was left with him often.
At first, the old guy was nice. We would just play board games most of the time. Over time, he would have me sit on his lap while we played. It seemed innocent enough, so I never gave it much thought. It became natural for me to sit on his lap.
While on his lap, he would run his hand up and down my back. That led to him running his hand up and down my back under my shirt. Honestly, it felt good and I enjoyed the attention.
I first noticed the creepiness while on his lap watching TV. He was again running his hand up and down my back. I was into the TV show and hadn't even noticed that he stopped and he had a finger just inside the waistband of my shorts. He was rubbing the top of my ass crack with his finger.
I turned to look at him. He quickly took his finger out, looked back at me and said, "Oops!". I laughed it off too and just pretended it was an accident.
That went on again for a few more weeks and having him tickle my ass crack just became normal. It got to the point where when I sat on his lap, his finger went straight to my ass. In time, his finger would move lower and deeper, but I was always let him know when I felt uncomfortable by moving.
I can't believe how naive I was as a child to think that anything of that sort was normal. I convinced myself that his hand in my shorts was fine, but going too deep into my shorts was not. Of course, he would always push my boundaries and try to go further.
Something he started to do later was discreetly flash me. He would wear loose shorts around the house and sit in a way where the leg opening would open and expose himself. He was never blatant about it. It was always in a way that appeared to be accidental. I saw him adjusting his shorts enough to know it was intentional.
Like most children that age, I was curious and would sneak peaks. While watching a movie one night, he pretended to fall asleep on the couch with me next to him. He was laying down with one leg on the floor. He was hanging out of his shorts and I saw what I thought was pee. It was years later that I figured out what I saw was pre-cum.
On another occasion, he asked me to help him change a light bulb. I got up on his shoulders, but still couldn't reach the light. He had me stand on a table and turn away. He then had me sit on his hands while he held me up over his head and balance. He kept moving from side to side just out of reach of the light. Him holding my ass like that and moving around allowed him to get a good feel of my ass.
When we finally did get a god balance under the light, I tried to unscrew the bulb, but it woouldn't come out. In hindight, I think he may have used an adhesive so I couldn't remove it.
While I worked on that light bulb, I could feel his thumbs working their way closer between my legs, opening and closing my pussy. Even now, it feels strange to call it my pussy. I was still a child. I didn't think of it as pussy then.
I was wearing shorts then, so I don't know if he was able to see anything, but his thumbs were working their way just inside my panties and I could already feel half of my pussy being pulled outside of my shorts by the motion of his thumbs.
He held me up as long as he could and finally had to let me down. When he finally did let me down, he adjusted his grip, turning one hand to set me back onto the table. With his thumb already just inside my panties, the motion of him turning slid his thumb deeper inside my panties and directly onto my pussy.
It was only for a few seconds, but in that brief moment he pressed harder while giving me a quick rub. His thumb never entered me, but it was definitely between my lips. My knees weakened and I fell onto the table. We laughed about that and never mentioned it again. We never did get that bulb changed.
For the next couple of hours, I would catch him smelling his thumb, but pretending to scratch his nose. I remember feeling very self-conscious about that and hoping I smelled ok.
He died a few months later. Massive stroke. I remember everyone saying such nice things about him during his funeral service. I did miss him and cried, but now as an adult, I know the world is better without him.
At first, the old guy was nice. We would just play board games most of the time. Over time, he would have me sit on his lap while we played. It seemed innocent enough, so I never gave it much thought. It became natural for me to sit on his lap.
While on his lap, he would run his hand up and down my back. That led to him running his hand up and down my back under my shirt. Honestly, it felt good and I enjoyed the attention.
I first noticed the creepiness while on his lap watching TV. He was again running his hand up and down my back. I was into the TV show and hadn't even noticed that he stopped and he had a finger just inside the waistband of my shorts. He was rubbing the top of my ass crack with his finger.
I turned to look at him. He quickly took his finger out, looked back at me and said, "Oops!". I laughed it off too and just pretended it was an accident.
That went on again for a few more weeks and having him tickle my ass crack just became normal. It got to the point where when I sat on his lap, his finger went straight to my ass. In time, his finger would move lower and deeper, but I was always let him know when I felt uncomfortable by moving.
I can't believe how naive I was as a child to think that anything of that sort was normal. I convinced myself that his hand in my shorts was fine, but going too deep into my shorts was not. Of course, he would always push my boundaries and try to go further.
Something he started to do later was discreetly flash me. He would wear loose shorts around the house and sit in a way where the leg opening would open and expose himself. He was never blatant about it. It was always in a way that appeared to be accidental. I saw him adjusting his shorts enough to know it was intentional.
Like most children that age, I was curious and would sneak peaks. While watching a movie one night, he pretended to fall asleep on the couch with me next to him. He was laying down with one leg on the floor. He was hanging out of his shorts and I saw what I thought was pee. It was years later that I figured out what I saw was pre-cum.
On another occasion, he asked me to help him change a light bulb. I got up on his shoulders, but still couldn't reach the light. He had me stand on a table and turn away. He then had me sit on his hands while he held me up over his head and balance. He kept moving from side to side just out of reach of the light. Him holding my ass like that and moving around allowed him to get a good feel of my ass.
When we finally did get a god balance under the light, I tried to unscrew the bulb, but it woouldn't come out. In hindight, I think he may have used an adhesive so I couldn't remove it.
While I worked on that light bulb, I could feel his thumbs working their way closer between my legs, opening and closing my pussy. Even now, it feels strange to call it my pussy. I was still a child. I didn't think of it as pussy then.
I was wearing shorts then, so I don't know if he was able to see anything, but his thumbs were working their way just inside my panties and I could already feel half of my pussy being pulled outside of my shorts by the motion of his thumbs.
He held me up as long as he could and finally had to let me down. When he finally did let me down, he adjusted his grip, turning one hand to set me back onto the table. With his thumb already just inside my panties, the motion of him turning slid his thumb deeper inside my panties and directly onto my pussy.
It was only for a few seconds, but in that brief moment he pressed harder while giving me a quick rub. His thumb never entered me, but it was definitely between my lips. My knees weakened and I fell onto the table. We laughed about that and never mentioned it again. We never did get that bulb changed.
For the next couple of hours, I would catch him smelling his thumb, but pretending to scratch his nose. I remember feeling very self-conscious about that and hoping I smelled ok.
He died a few months later. Massive stroke. I remember everyone saying such nice things about him during his funeral service. I did miss him and cried, but now as an adult, I know the world is better without him.
