Stella & Margaret get soaked.

STARTER.

There is a saying that it never rains but it pours.

Well, the other day, it was pouring – the heavens had opened and god’s bathwater was flooding the land. A strong wind was driving the rain almost horizontally; umbrellas were useless as they kept being blown inside out and one had to lean heavily into the torrent.

It was only just after 11am but street lights had already been switched on, and I had had to put on a table lamp and turn the gas fire up to full.
I stood gazing out of the window, thanking my lucky stars that I didn’t need to go out in this deluge.

I was aware of two little figures huddled in the recess of my doorway, desperately trying to shelter from the elements.
It was the school uniforms which stood out, white blouses with short blue skirts and a blue blazer with the school crest on the pocket.
It seemed strange that they weren’t in school at this time of the morning.
They looked thoroughly miserable, and wet; I took pity on them and went to the door.
I opened it and they nearly fell in, having pushed themselves hard against the door, trying to keep out of the swirling torrents that were whipping along the street.

“Sorry,” said the taller of the two, “We were taking shelter from the rain. I hope you don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” I replied, eyeing their young bodies up and down and noting the swell of breasts under their blouses. “Would you like to come in and get dried? I’ve got a nice warm fire on.”
They looked each other, wondering no doubt if it was a wise thing to do, going into a stranger’s house.
“I’m not going to keep the door open,” I said, “The rain is driving in.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”, asked the smaller girl, ” We don’t want to waste your time.”
I thought that was a rather strange thing to say, ‘…… waste your time.’ but shrugged it off. Perhaps it was another of today’s ‘in’ ways of expressing themselves.

I brought them in and showed them into the living room.
“My god!”, I exp , “You are soaking!”
They stood there, literally dripping onto the carpet; faces with rivulets of water running down their cheeks and chins, their jackets hanging low with the amount of water they had absorbed, shoes sodden.
“Please, let me take these wet things and hang them in front of the fire to dry.”
Putting their school bags down, they removed their jackets and handed them to me.
“You’re not going to school today?”, I enquired.
“We’re ‘dogging’ it – you know, bunking off.”
“Ah, so what were you planning to do all day?” I asked.They looked at each other again and shrugged their shoulders.
“We hadn’t planned anything, but we weren’t expecting rain.” replied the taller girl.
“You can stay here if you like. It’s forecast to be torrential rain all today and tomorrow.” I said, thinking that it might be fun having them stay for several hours. “Anyway, it’ll take a while for your clothes to dry.”

They nodded agreement and thanked me, they would be very grateful provided I wasn’t going to do anything else.
“Well, please sit down and make yourselves comfortable. A drink perhaps?”
“I’d love an alcoholic drink if you wouldn’t mind, I’m freezing.” said the small one.
“No problem, whiskey, vodka, beer?”
“Yes please.” they answered in unison, giving girlish laughs.
Coming right up.” I said, heading for the kitchen.
“Look, we should get to know each other better seeing as we’re going to spend the day together. I’m Jay.”
“I’m Stella,” said the taller girl, “I’m 14, and she’s Margaret, she’s 13.”
Now that introductions had been made, I went to arrange their drinks.
Now, for those who don’t know, an equal measure of whiskey and vodka, makes a fairly lethal cocktail in the ‘getting one drunk quickly’ stakes.
I poured out large measures of each -“Want anything in your drinks?” I called.
“More of the same.” came the reply, followed by laughter.

On hearing that, I poured another measure of each spirit into their glasses – that made triple dozes, potential time bombs, I just hoped they could take it!
My own tipple was whiskey with some water, so I poured myself a large one (just to keep them company!).
I returned to the living room and stopped dead in my tracks – Stella had removed her blouse and hung it on a peg behind the door.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said,”It’s absolutely soaked and not very comfortable to wear.”
She stood there, about 5’6″ in height, perhaps 9 stones in weight, slim and auburn haired and with beautifully formed breasts ( I reckoned 38 inches) encompassed by a pale pink bra printed with little butterflies of differing colours.
Stifling the urge to rush forward and take them into my hands I strode forward and handed her her drink.
“No, that’s fine, I did say to make yourself at home. I didn’t want to frighten you earlier but I do think you should take your skirt off too, it’s sopping wet and you don’t want to risk getting pneumonia.”
Without hesitation, she handed me back the drink and undoing the side zip, she dropped her short skirt and stepped out of it, then took her drink out of my shaky fingers.
Overly small and tight panties in blue with a little white bow sewn onto the top of the crotch made the blood start to race through my body.
“Can I take mine off too?” asked Margaret, starting to disrobe before I had a chance to answer.
Her 13 year old body, 5’4″ and about 9 stones with hair that I can only describe as ‘mousey’ and breasts which had not too long ago, begun to fill out to a 32″, quickly came onto view – a white plain bra under the blouse, and a pair of traditional blue knickers under her skirt.
Shakily, I picked up the discarded clothes, taking them to the bathroom and hanging them carefully over the pulley.

They were both sitting on the settee when I returned, taking large sips from their drinks glasses.
I sat in my chair, facing them and drinking in their looks and shape of their scantily clad figures.
My blood was racing throughout my body, my dick and started to expand and was making a visible and growing bulge in my pants. I crossed my legs to hide my obvious interest in their physiques.
We started chit chatting about nothing in particular, my eyes constantly scanning their nubile bodies, thinking lewd but exciting thoughts of what I could do with them given half a chance.