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Life on Eden Trails - Part I

"Charlie Learns how to do an oil change loses her virginity- Life on Eden Lane begins..."

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I watched as the moving van pulled away from the house next door. We had new neighbors and I wondered if they would be an older couple or a younger couple. Within a few days, I discovered I was wrong on both accounts. A small Ford sedan pulled up in the drive way next door and I did the neighborly thing and waved. I wondered over and introduced myself.

Mike and Betty Tompkins was a couple in their thirties. Their young daughter, Charlene, was an eighteen-year-old young nubile, who had just graduated from high school. She preferred her nick name, "Charlie," to her real name. Tom was a computer software engineer and Betty was unemployed, but looking for work. As we chatted, Charlie disappeared into the house and I only caught a glimpse of her as she darted up the sidewalk.

A few days passed and I glanced out my office window to see Charlie leaning in the window of a car parked in front of her house. Her shorts – her very short shorts – revealed more of what I probably shouldn't have seen than I care to admit. I was mesmerized. She was all legs, long, slender, well-toned legs. I watched as she stood with a hand on her hip, finishing up her conversation with her friends. They drove off as Charlie stood and watched. She turned and as she walked back towards her house, she waved in my direction. I had been caught.

A few days later, I was working on my car, changing the oil, when a pair of sandals appeared next to where I was laying on my back, underneath my car. I was tightening up the drip pan plug. I looked again and Charlie was on her knees peering under the car at me. I could see all the way down her button-down shirt and then some. I’m pretty sure the nipple flash was not on purpose.

“Could you do mine, next?” Charlie asked, peering at me.

I rolled out from under my car, my hands black with grease and a smudge on my face.

“Could I do what?” I asked.

“Change my oil?” Charlie repeated, taking up a squatting position next to me. Her shorts were way to short and I could very easily make out the edges of her pink panties. I tried to focus on her question. It was hard.

“Sure,” I replied. I grabbed a rag and wiped my hands.

Charlie smiled.

“I would appreciate it,” Charlie remarked, “I am just not very mechanically inclined. Dad is always gone and my boyfriend, well, let’s just say he is not the brightest bulb in the box. He’s okay, just not very mechanically inclined.”

Charlie sat back on her butt and pulled her ankles up towards her very cute ass. I glanced at the space between her legs from my position. She looked down and readjusted her shorts.

“I’m glad I remembered to put on underwear,” she remarked, readjusting her shorts. “These shorts are a bit tight.”

I had to laugh.

“So why do you wear them?” I asked.

“They’re my favorite,” Charlie responded.

“I can see why,” I remarked. Charlie eluded sex appeal. I don’t think she did it on purpose.

“Does it bother you that guys stare at your ass?” I asked.

“Nah,” Charlie responded. “I like it.”

“Ahhhh, a teaser,” I joked.

“Nope,” Charlie responded, “I am the real deal.”

Charlie was saying all the right things to peak my interests and her provocative attire was almost more than I could stand. Her “real deal” comment was like a challenge. I couldn’t help but respond with a bit of sarcasm.

“So you’re the “real deal’?” I inquired. “Time will tell if that is true or not.”

Charlie leaned forward and smiled.

“You want me, don’t you?”

“I don’t have times for games,” I replied.

“No games,” Charlie replied. “I’m a virgin. I can wait.”

Holy shit! Did she say she was a virgin? I decided right then and there, I was going to burst her cherry, one way or another.

I looked at Charlie and remarked, “You keep wearing shorts like that and you may very well lose your virginity sooner than later.” 

Charlie smiled.

“When the time is right, I won’t care,” she replied. “When the time is right. . .”

I wiped my hands and picked up the empty oil containers. Charlie leaned against the front fender of my car, her long legs crossed at the ankles, watching me as I worked. I looked at Charlie and smiled.

“So are we going to do mine, next?” she asked.

I hadn’t planned on it, but I found myself giving in. 

“Sure,” I remarked.

She popped the hood on the family sedan – a Honda Accord. I took out my shop jack and Charlie watched as I positioned it under her car. I started pumping down on the handle.

As the front tires started to lift off the ground, Charlie asked, “Can I do that?”

I took a step back and let her try and push down on the jack handle, but didn’t go all the way down.

“Lesson one,” I remarked, emphasizing my last three words, “If you’re going to do it right, you have to go ALL THE WAY DOWN.”

Charlie looked at me and smiled.

“All the way down,” she repeated.

“Yes,” I said, “All the way down.”

The innuendo was not lost on either of us. Charlie pushed the jack handle as far down as it would go and the car went up a small notch. She turned and smiled.

“All the way down,” she remarked.

I placed my undercarriage dolly right behind the front wheel.

“Now the dirty work,” I remarked. “We have to take the plug out.”

“Take the plug out,” Charlie repeated.

“Yes, I replied, “Take the plug out.”

She looked at me for additional directions.

“You have to lie down on the dolly and roll under the car to do it,” I remarked.

“Oh,” Charlie responded, looking down at the dolly.

She took up a position on the dolly, on her back, her tanned legs stretching out in front of me. I took up the same position beside her on the cement slab, an adjustable wrench in hand. I worked my way up under the car, as Charlie rolled under it, beside me. Finding the drain plug, I sized the wrench to the plug, and then handed the wrench to Charlie. I positioned the drain pan to catch the spillage.

“Which way do I turn?” she asked.

“Counter clockwise to loosen and clockwise to tighten,” I replied. She dutifully repeated everything I told her.

I handed her the wrench.

“Other direction,” I instructed.

The oil leaked from the plug before she had it removed. It spilled all over her hands and down her arm.

“Yuck!” she remarked, “I didn’t know it was this messy.”

“That is what rags are for,” I replied. “Take the plug all the way out.”

“All the way out?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied, “All the way out… let it drop in the drain pan.”

I scrunched out from under the car, and Charlie Started to follow on the dolly.

“Hold up,” I instructed, “wait for all the oil to drain. When it stops, I will need you to put the plug back in.”

I stood beside the car.

“Are you having fun?” I heard her ask.

“Fun?” I inquired.

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“I guess so, if you call changing the oil, fun.”

Charlie spread her legs as wide as she could, knowing I would take note.

“Stop that,” I told her. I could hear her giggle.

“You’re no fun,” she remarked.

I had her put the plug back in. I dumped five pints of new oil into her engine.

“Can I come out?” she asked.

“Bring the dirty oil with you,” I replied.

Charlie rolled out from under the car and sat up on the dolly. The dirty oil pan sat next to her. A large brown spot soiled her white shirt, where the oil had run down her arm. She had two smudge marks on her face. The oil glistened in the sunlight.

I tossed her a rag and she wiped her hands with it.

I started her car and let it run for a few minutes, while I disposed of the old oil into an oil can I had brought over for recycling purposes. Charlie sat on the dolly and watched. I checked the dipstick, with Charlie by my side watching.

“This is so cool,” she remarked, putting her hand on top of mine, as we leaned in, under the hood, and checked her belts for wear marks. I looked down at her hand on top of mine. I took a rag from my pocket and handed it to her. She wiped the oil splotches from her hand.

“You’re cool,” she remarked, handing me back my rag, slipping her finger tips into the front pockets of her shorts.

I turned off the engine and handed Charlie the car keys. I bent over to pick up the empty oil containers. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my butt. I startled me. Charlie cackled.

“Damn, what an ass!”

“You’re not supposed to do that,” I said.

“There are a lot of things,” she replied, smiling, “that I am not supposed to do, but I do them anyway.”

I retrieved the last oil container and put it in the plastic bag I held in my hand.

Charlie stepped over close to me and looked around, nervous like.

“Look,” she remarked, lowering her voice. “Mom and Dad are gone. You’re cool. I’m horny… do you want to mess around?”

I wasn’t sure I heard her right.

“What?”

“Mom and dad are gone for the weekend,” Charlie repeated. She bit down on her lower lip. “Do you want to come in the house?”

I still wasn’t sure I completely understood, so just to make sure, I asked, “Are you sure?”

Charlie tip-toed, placed a hand on my shoulder and a light kiss on my check.

“I’m sure,” she replied, taking my hand in hers. I tossed the empty oil cans in her family’s trash can sitting just outside her garage door. We walked in through her garage and she tapped the “close” button on the garage door, as we slipped into the house through the laundry room.

Once inside, Charlie turned and more or less, pinned me against the laundry room door. She forced her lips on to mine, and her tongue into my mouth. She was on fire. The fuse was lit.

“I want that cock in me,” she remarked, groping my crotch.

She stripped me of my shirt, and rubbed her hands over my chest and nipples, while kissing me. I ran my hands up under her shirt and squeezed her breasts through her brassiere. She took a step back, peeled out of her shirt and then stripped out of her bra. She had the most beautiful and perky tits with small pink areolas, and hardened nipples, just yearning to be sucked and touched.

She didn’t waste any time, digging into my jeans, or trying to. I kicked off my tennis shoes and stripped out of my jeans and my boxer shorts. As I did, she stripped out of her cut offs and her pink panties. She was totally shaven – not a pubic hair one.

“Are you on the pill?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied. We stood and kissed for the longest time, our naked bodies pressing against each other. Normally, I would have wanted to take my time, but Charlie seemed desperate.

“Put it in me,” she begged.

“Are you sure you’re a virgin?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied, “Why? Do you think I am lying?”

“You’re so desperate,” I responded.

“Yes,” she replied, “I am desperate.”

I slipped a finger in her vagina. She was more than ready.

I positioned Charlie by the couch and had her lean forward, so her pussy would be more accessible. I slipped my cock to the edge of her pussy and worked it back and forth over hit clit.

“Oh… my… fucking… gawd,” she cooed.

I slipped the head of my cock into her vagina. She was definitely a virgin. I was in new territory. All my previous sexual partners had been experienced, in one way or another. I pushed against her hymen and she shrieked as it broke.

“Oh shit! Ouch!” she remarked. I pushed my cock in as far as I could go. She was tight. Her virgin walls constricted and clamped down on my cock as I rhythmically moved my hips back and forth. After only a few strokes, things became easier, as her womanly juices began to flow more liberally.

She moaned and panted as I worked my hips back and forth, my hands on her hips. I slipped out and reinserted.

“Ooohhh… yessss!” Charlie cried. “Ooohh fuck, yes! Give it to me!”

I couldn’t hold back. I could feel myself the orgasm coming. So could she. My cock twitched as I shot my cum deep inside of her. At the same time, Charlie stiffened and her body quivered. Her hands were balled into fists, her knuckles white. I pushed myself against her sweet ass and held the position as my I shot stream after stream of cum inside of her virgin pussy.

“I’m cuming!” Charlie remarked, taking in several short breaths and forcefully exhaling, her teenage body shaking. She beat her fists on the couch.

I grabbed her tits. Her whole body shook.

After a few more seconds, she went completely limp. I slipped out of her. Several droplets of cum ran down her thigh and spilled on to the hardwood floor. I swooped Charlie up and into my arms, and gingerly sat her on the couch.

She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. She was ashen white. Her eyes were closed. I sat on the edge of the couch, and stroked her angelic face. Slowly, the color returned and her eyes flickered open.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“That was extremely radical,” Charlie remarked, running her fingers through her hair. “Oh Gawd! That was great!”

“Are you okay?” I repeated.

“Oh yes!” Charlie responded. “You are FAN-tastic!”

I leaned over and planted a kiss on her check. She wrapped her arms around my neck and smiled.

“Thank you,” Charlie whispered.

“Thank you, too,” I replied.

I stepped into the kitchen and grabbed a towel from the counter top. Charlie used it to wipe between her legs. I fetched my clothes and got dressed as Charlie lay on the couch watching me. She sat up and smiled.

“I think I could get used to this,” she remarked.

“Welcome to adulthood,” I replied. “it’s not all fun and games, but when it is fun, it can be extremely exhilarating.”

Charlie smiled.

“I have one question,” she asked, looking at me. I was prepared for anything but what she asked.

“How often do we change the oil in a car?”

For the first time, ever, I lied.

“Once a week,” I replied.

“Once a week?” Charlie repeated, “Are you serious?”

“No,” I replied, “but it never hurts to make sure your dipstick stays well lubricated.”

Charlie cackled. She never missed an innuendo.

“I agree,” Charlie responded.

And that is how Life Began on Eden Lane.

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Written by CommunicationDirectr
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