BabySitter Birthday Present

Hi. I'm Kylie. I'm a babysitter and quite a good one. I've been doing it since I was fifteen and I'm pushing twenty now. Yeah, I know. Not exactly an antique yet but, I swear, watching after some of those little horrors puts years on your age. And that's just the fathers.

Mrs Willis is one of my regular customers. She's got two little kids, cute as buttons. Mr Willis is what they call a handsome man. The reason they call him that is because if you don't watch him like a hawk his hands are somewhere on you.

Of course, Mrs Willis is aware of his tendency to go the grope and she keeps him under control. She's a sweetheart, but very easy going where her husband is concerned.

Don't get me wrong. Mr Willis is really a very nice man. He has a nice personality and a great sense of humour. It's just that he also has a very active libido. He comes across as a very sexy man.

When I say he goes the grope, I don't mean that he tries to grab you by the privates. He's much more refined than that. It's just that you'll suddenly become aware that your boobs are pressing against his arm, or you've somehow backed your bottom up against his crotch.

And it never seems to be his fault. I'm not sure how he manages it. The first few times I found myself apparently pressing my body against his unresisting self I actually thought it was my fault and apologised. I soon learnt better, of course.

Nowadays when I sit for them it's like a friendly contest. I avoid getting groped and politely don't notice that he's trying. Mind you, a couple of times I've let him get away with it. Last year he even went so far as to cup one of my boobs and give it a little squeeze. It was his birthday, that day, which is why I let him get away with it.

I will tell you one thing about him. The first time I seemed to bump my bum up against his crotch, he had an erection. I didn't recognise it at the time, innocent little thing that I was, but I distinctly remember that he had something very large and hard in his trousers when I bumped him. I have to confess that now I'm older I've sometimes wondered just how large and hard it really was.

Anyway, I'm sitting for them again tonight. They're going out for dinner and a show to celebrate Mr Willis's birthday. You never know, I just might let him have a slight feel for a birthday present. Just kidding.

- - -

By eight thirty that night the Willis's were long gone, the kids were in bed and asleep and I was settled in front of the TV, sending messages via my phone and keeping an eye on Facebook. Sometimes, babysitting is a breeze.

A few hours later the Willis's rocked up and I was ready to head on home. Before I went I agreed to have a cup of coffee with them and shortly after that I was sitting at the kitchen table with Mr Willis next to me while Mrs Willis made the coffee.

I don't know how that man manages it. I had intended to sit at the end of the table but somehow or other I found myself sitting between Mr Willis and the wall at the end of the table. Now, normally, this wouldn't worry me, but tonight for some reason Mr Willis was really feeling his oats.

I'd no sooner settled down at the table than his hand was on my knee and sliding higher. I was giggling a little as I fended him off, but I'd never known him to be this blatant about looking for a friendly touch before.

There was a little bit of hand-play going on under the table while Mrs Willis made the coffee and then Mr Willis broke it off. Or so I thought. His hand rubbed up my back, paused when it reached my bra and unclipped it. My boyfriend has trouble undoing my bra even when my top's off and I'm cooperating. Mr Willis flicked it open in nothing flat, working through my top.

I couldn't really go into the contortions needed to re-clip it, so I had to sit there with my bra loose and my face red. Mr Willis started playing handsies again, trying to slide his hand up my skirt and I admit I pushed him away a bit smarter this time.

He was laughing at me and he moved his hands alright. He moved them up to my waistband and pulled my top out at the back of my skirt and ran his hand up my back. For a moment I thought he was going to be a gentleman and do my bra up. Big mistake.

While I hesitated, Mr Willis slipped his hand around to the front and had hold of one of my boobs before I even knew what he intended. OK. It was his birthday. For a moment I let him cup it and rub his thumb across my nipple. Then I was grabbing his arm and pulling it down and away.

He let me, of course. What I shouldn't have done however, was push his hand back onto his lap. When I did that he twisted his hand, caught mine, and held it against his crotch. This time I knew perfectly well what my hand was pressing against. And a quick estimate told me that my memory of what it was like was faulty. It seemed even larger than I'd thought.

That's when Mrs Willis finally produced the coffee and I was able to get my hands up on the table and away from things I wasn't supposed to be touching.

I nearly choked on that coffee. I was just taking a mouthful when Mr Willis just pushed my skirt up and slipped his hand between my legs. I managed to put the cup down without dropping and hastily hauled his hand away from there.

That was one of the fastest cups of coffee I'd ever drunk. Then I was pushing back my chair and saying as I had to be going.

All I can say is that that man can do the sneakiest things without me noticing it. The zip to my skirt was at the side, right next to him. Somehow he'd managed to undo it. When I stood up he just flicked open the button and my skirt just went with the flow of gravity, straight down leaving me with a pair of frilly little panties.

What really set me back then was that Mr Willis just hooked onto my panties and pulled them down as well. I couldn't believe it. How could he do something like that with his wife sitting right there across the table from him?

Naturally I squealed when my panties went south and I appealed to Mrs Willis.

"Can you please tell Mr Willis to leave my clothes alone," I pleaded.

Mrs Willis looked a little startled.

"Oh, we haven't told you yet, have we?" she said.

I was standing there with my skirt pooled around my feet and my panties down around my knees and Mrs Willis apparently had thought of something they'd forgotten to tell me. Where were the woman's priorities?

"You see, dear," said Mrs Willis, "I asked Bob what he wanted for a birthday present and he said he'd like to screw you ragged. Well, I know Bob likes the occasional extra and I thought, you're a nice girl, why not? So I told him if he wanted to he could have you on his birthday. Effectively, you could say he's in the process of unwrapping his birthday present," Mrs Willis finished happily.

I felt slightly stunned. I was to be his birthday present?

"It didn't occur to you that I might want to have a say in this decision of yours?" I asked.

"Well, dear, I was going to tell you, but Bob said not to bother. It would be a pleasant surprise for you. He's mentioned how you find him attractive but held back out of respect for me, which is very thoughtful of you, dear. A lot of modern girls don't worry about things like that."

The woman was certifiable, I swear it.

"Well, if it's all the same to you," I said, "I think I'll continue to forego the pleasure of his company. Will you stop that!"

That last bit was addressed to Mr Willis. While I was talking I was trying to pull my panties up and Mr Willis was stopping me. Stopping, hell. He now had them down around my ankles, and when I bent down to grab them he slipped a hand behind me and you can just guess where he poked me. Suffice it to say I stood back up in a hurry, leaving my panties lie.

Mrs Willis was shaking her head.

"Bob said that you would pretend to be reluctant, even though there's no reason to be, but not to worry about it. He said he'll just ignore your maidenly protests and take you good and proper. So I'm going to bed, now. You two enjoy yourselves."

With that Mrs Willis got up and left. Leaving me there with her Lothario of a husband. I turned on him.

"If you think you're going to let me seduce you, you're crazy.

I mean, if you think I'll let you seduce me, I'm crazy.

You know what I mean. You're not sleeping with me."

"I think you're trying to say you have no intention of letting me seduce you, right?"

"Right!"

"OK. Now that you've got that out of the way you can stop worrying about being seduced."

"I can?"

"Certainly. Now let's get that top off."

What the hell? First he's saying he's not going to seduce me and then he's hauling my top off. And there wasn't much I could do to stop him. He had it three quarters off before I even knew it. And the fact that my bra was already undone meant that he flicked that off almost in passing.

"What are you playing at?" I demanded. "You just agreed not to try to seduce me."

"Correct. I'm going straight to rape. You don't mind do you?"

"You say you're going to rape me and ask if I mind? Of course I mind. I just want you to leave me alone so I can go home."

"But I don't really have any choice in the matter. I can't go and tell my wife I decided not to accept her present. She'd be terribly hurt."

I couldn't believe this. He had to rape me to keep his wife happy? Who did he think he was kidding? Before I could say anything else he just picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. I'm sure you've all seen those pictures of a fireman carrying some poor unfortunate away from a burning building.

Bob (I feel if he's going to rape me, I'm entitled to call him by his first name) just told me "enough talk", hoicked me over his shoulder and walked out of the kitchen carrying me.

Until he picked me up like that I hadn't known just how strong he was. He handled me as easily as he would a child. But he didn't handle me like a child. When I tried hitting his back he just slapped my bottom and then let his hand wander down a bit and started stroking my pussy.

He took me through to the living room and dumped me onto the rug they had in there. Well, not dumped, I suppose. He lowered me to my feet, and then told me very firmly to lie down. Not having much choice and not wanting to be dragged down to the floor I did as told.

Bob proceeded to strip, watching me watching him. I could see he was laughing at me but what the hell could I do? I found out pretty quickly one thing I could do. I could get hot and wet watching him strip, knowing what he was going to do to me afterwards. Like I said earlier, he was a sexy man and I couldn't help but react to knowing he wanted me.

And, oh god, how he wanted me. That was painfully obvious as soon as he took of his underpants. He was every bit as large as I'd thought and he was going to use that thing on me. The heat inside me turned up a notch, dammit, and I was feeling wetter than ever.

He wasn't really going to rape me and we both knew it. He was just trying to make me a little uncertain to make the job of seduction a little easier. I must admit, if he hadn't been so arrogantly sure of himself I might even have gone along with the seduction routine. He's a sexy beast.

As it was, he was going to have his work cut out trying to have sex with me tonight. As soon as he started touching me I was going to fight him off.

They say no plan lasts past contact with the enemy. Mine came unstuck real fast. I'm not sure what I was expecting but it sure wasn't what actually happened.

Bob seemed to be starting to kneel beside me and I was getting ready to resist when he snatched my wrists and pinned them above my head while his knee came down between my legs and forced them apart. Further apart that is. I hadn't exactly been holding them clamped together and he took full advantage of that fact.

Before I really knew what his intentions were, Bob was effectively lying above me, my hands were pinned above my head and his cock was pressing hard against me, already edging in between my lips.

"What do you think you're doing?" I squealed at him, appalled.

"I'm raping you, Kylie," he calmly informed me. "One of the advantages of rape is that I don't have to worry about getting you all worked up with a lot of preliminary petting. I can just take you and let you worry about getting yourself worked up."

I was shocked. He couldn't have known I was wet and ready and if I hadn't been his assault might have hurt me. OK. Maybe there was some leakage down there and he probably saw it, but still. I opened my mouth to protest.

As soon as I opened my mouth Bob gave a hard little jerk, driving himself in further and turning my words into a meaningless squawk. I tried again, Bob jerked again and I finished up just squawking again.

I shut my mouth and that promptly made a difference. Instead of entering me with those little jerks, Bob settled down to a smooth thrust, pushing deeper.

What was really frustrating for me is that I couldn't really say if he was taking me against my will or not. I know I'd made the appropriate noises, but I hadn't really struggled the way I'd intended and my body was making all the inappropriate moves for a rape. Somehow or other my legs had got tangled around Bob's, holding him in me and helping to pull him deeper. I was starting to experience the feeling of cock inside me in places that had never been reached before and my body was just lapping it up.

Bob gave one last push and that was that. Whether I wanted it or not, Bob was right inside me and I was about to be well and truly screwed, like it or not.

The way I was writhing underneath him and pushing myself against his cock strongly suggested that I was going to like it. I couldn't help it. His cock felt huge inside me, filling me, and it also felt good, as though that was where it belonged.

I was panting and trying to glare at Bob, but he was just laughing at me. He could feel the way I was wriggling under him and he could tell it wasn't rejection. He just held me pinned there for a while, letting me getting accustomed to him.

Accustomed, hell. From the moment he started entering me all I could really concentrate on was cock, there's a cock in me and it's huge. Of course I was wriggling around on it. I wanted to feel every inch of it.

Bob finally let go my wrists and transferred his attentions to my breasts. His hands clamped onto them as though he was afraid they'd run. At the same time he apparently decided that it was start getting some cock action under way.

Slowly and sensually he withdrew and slid back into me, making allowances for my youth and relative inexperience. If you believe that, speak to me later about a goldmine I'm selling; cheap.

What Bob actually did was draw back and then came bouncing back so hard that all I could do was scream with surprise. Not that it hurt. It was good. But the sheer surprise of the way he came charging back in just naturally shocked the squeal out of me.

That, of course, was just the start of it. He started bouncing on me as though I was a trampoline. The harder he could hit me the higher he would bounce back, and it seemed as though he wanted to bounce high.

Once I caught on to what he was doing I was pitching up to meet him, quite willing to meet him on his own terms. He was just a man, after all, and once she has his size worked out any woman can handle a man. They think they're in charge, but all they're doing is providing a bit of input.

The woman is doing the real work, massaging that cock thoroughly while it comes and goes, while making sure that his cock is doing all the things you want it to do inside you.

Bob bounced and I pushed up to meet him, grinding against him and feeling his cock rubbing deep inside me, sending wave after wave of excitement deeper into me. I could feel his hands playing their games with my breasts and it was nice, but of secondary importance to what his cock was doing to me.

Bob kept going and going, giving a vigorous demonstration of a man of action. (To annoy him I told him later that he showed remarkable vigour for an older man. He wasn't sure if he was being flattered or insulted.)

I was honestly surprised how long he managed to keep drilling into me. Not that I was objecting. It was fun and I was giving as good as I got.

I have to say that I'm not a quiet lover. I was squealing and gasping and carrying on, my hands were clawing at his shoulders and my legs were doing their best to crush him to me. I could feel my climax approaching and Bob could hear it. So could anyone else in earshot. If Mrs Willis was still awake then she would know that her birthday present was being hard used at that moment.

The teeth marks in Bob's hand weren't really my fault. He apparently decided that I was getting a bit too noisy as he started hammering out his own climax and he clasped his hand over my mouth to quieten my screams while I climaxed, and I just naturally bit down, seeing I couldn't scream out.

I did apologise for that later when I'd calmed down a little. I suppose I shouldn't say calmed down, I was so comatose after that screwing that if I'd calmed down any more I'd have been dead. Let's say I apologised when I regained enough energy to do so.

I have to say that giving your husband the use of my body for a little fun is probably one of the most unusual birthday presents I've ever heard of. I don't care how loving a wife Bob considers Mrs Willis to be, she strikes me as weird.