BabySitter's Night

I was sitting for Andy Mitchell and his two little angels had decided to change into two little demons on liberty from hell. It wasn't really their fault, I guess. It was the weather. It was a hot sticky summer evening. There'd been a cool change forecast but apparently it had got lost somewhere along the way. It certainly hadn't reached us.

The air conditioning took some of the impact of the heat away but it didn't really help with the humidity. I swear the humidity was so high that the few birds that took to the air had to swim through it. It made for a totally mucky day and two very short-tempered little boys.

I finally dumped the pair of them in a bath half filled with cold water and told them to have fun and that I'd clean up the mess. Well, they made a mess, but it was worth it. By the time I insisted that bath time was up they were cooled down and totally ready for bed. I just tossed them both on top of their respective beds and they were out like lights. I just hoped that they'd stay that way.

With them out of the way I cleaned up the bathroom. It's amazing how far two little boys can splash water and how much of it they can splash. Still, it was only water, so all I really needed to do was wipe everything down and the bathroom was sparkly clean again.

I wasn't. I was hot and grotty. My clothes were wet (they really spread that water around) and I had just about reached the snarly stage, but I was still coping. Just.

I gave the boys half an hour and then checked on them. Both of them were dead to the world and looked like they'd settled for the night. Not that I trusted this observation. It's the sort of situation that could change at any moment, resulting in two upset boys and an upset baby-sitter - me in this instance.

Still, I thought I would be able to take a chance on them waking up. I ran myself a bath. A full bath, not the half-way mark that the kids had. I also used lukewarm water, rather than cold, and bath salts. Lots of sweet smelling bath salts. I stripped off in the spare bedroom, the one I'd be in if Mr Mitchell was out too late. Wrapped in a towel I headed for my bath and some peace and quiet.

My lack of trust in sleeping children came to the fore. I didn't take any music into the bathroom, restricting myself to a couple of magazines. I left the bathroom door open so I could hear the kids if they started to fuss. Not something I'd normally do while taking a bath but I'd be out long before Mr Mitchell got home and even if I wasn't I'd hear him come in, so I wasn't worried about being caught in an embarrassing situation.

(Truth to tell I wouldn't be worried if he did catch me in an embarrassing situation because Andy was a honey. He was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, with a wicked sense of humour. I was surprised no-one had snatched him up already as it was over a year since his wife died. I might have only been eighteen but I could recognize a fine specimen when I saw one.)

I just relaxed in the bath, reading my magazines. I did take the time to wash my hair (rinse it really) but apart from that I just let the water drain away all the trials and tribulations of the day.

The night was still hot and sticky, even with the air conditioner, so I just stayed in the bath for quite a while. Not a peep did I hear from the kids, god bless them.

Finally, feeling as though I must be wrinkled up like a prune, I pulled the plug and got out of the water. I quickly dried myself and then used the hair dryer to dry off my hair. It didn't take much as it had just about dried by itself. Wrapping the towel around myself I left the bathroom, heading to the spare room to get dressed. Actually dressed, rather than pyjamas, as it was still rather early. I'd worry about going to bed much later.

My get dressed plans hit a snag as soon as I stepped out of the bathroom. I ran into something big and solid. I guess the noise from the hair dryer muffled the sounds of Andy coming home.

No problems, you're thinking. I just say sorry and scoot double quick to the safety of the bedroom and my clothes. That's what I wanted to do, but I didn't want to do it without my towel. I'd automatically grabbed hold of Andy to stop myself being knocked over and when I grabbed the towel took advantage of the sudden movement to become unwrapped and drop to the floor.

For one horrific moment I was standing naked in front of Andy. Not a stitch on. When I mentioned not minding an embarrassing situation I hadn't meant one as embarrassing as this. It got worse by the second. Before I had a chance to bend down and grab the towel Andy did so. You know what that meant, don't you?

He bent down but he kept looking at me, so as he bent over his head went lower and he had a close up view of my body, starting at my red face, moving down past a pair of white breasts that were inches from him, past my tummy, and finally getting a close-up of my nicely shaved mons. He couldn't have given me a closer inspection if he'd tried and I couldn't help but think it was deliberate.

"I, ah, believe you dropped this," he said, his face perfectly straight. Inside he was probably rolling around the floor laughing.

"Thank you," I managed to say, clutching the towel to me. Then I turned and bolted to the spare room.

I realised my error as soon as I turned around. I hadn't stopped to wrap the towel around me. I was more interested in an immediate coverage of what he had examined and I just held the towel in front of me. When I turned around to scoot I promptly displayed myself as naked again, this time from a back view.

Face burning I hurried to the spare room, just knowing he was watching me. I could feel my bottom giving an extra little swish as I walked, but I swear it wasn't deliberate. It was doing that without any help from me. I couldn't help but turn my head to see if he was watching me and he was. Not only that but he was walking towards me, smiling.

I very nearly panicked, but common sense reared its head.

Don't be an idiot I told myself. He's not following you. He's heading towards the main bedroom. Of course he was. I closed the bedroom door and tossed the towel onto the dresser.

The door behind me opened and closed and I froze. I slowly looked over my shoulder and saw him standing there.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, feeling stupid. I must have missed something, but what?

"I saw that are-you-coming look you sent me," he said. "How could I possibly stay away after that?"

Me give him a come hither look? No way. And he knew it damn him. All I'd done was look back at him. That wasn't an invitation. Was it? Who knew how men thought?

"I did no such thing," I very quickly informed him.

"Really?" he said. "Guess it was my mistake. Sorry."

That sorry didn't seem to stop him from edging closer. His hand closed gently upon my elbow and he was turning me around to face him. I was naked and blushing and he was looking, damn him.

"What do you think you're doing?" I managed to ask him.

"Nothing," he said, then spoiled it by adding, "Yet."

He didn't release my elbow. Instead he just calmly sat down on the bed and drew me down onto his lap. At least, it was a bit better than just throwing me onto the bed, I guess.

"Listen, I don't know what you think you're doing but I'm not interested." I intended that to come out firmly, using the sort of tone that pulled the children into line. Instead it came out the sort of nervous voice that the children use to try to explain why the dog has been painted green. Not at all believable.

"You do know what I intend doing," he contradicted me, "but I'll concede that you're not interested." Then he had to go and add that damned word, "Yet."

"Not at all, ever," I quickly put in. "You're thinking of seducing me and I just don't do that sort of thing."

"Don't worry about it," he said, his voice all sweet reason. "I had already guessed that you're still a virgin and I wouldn't dream of trying to compel you to do more than you're willing to."

Now there was a way to cheer a girl up and let her down at the same time. Why not compel me? It wasn't as though I could fight him off.

"For all that," he continued, "I still intend to take a little taste of you. I'm just going to kiss you a little and we'll see what happens."

"I don't kiss people while I'm naked," I put in. I mean, really. Kissing someone while naked could lead to some awkward moments. There again, I guess that was what he intended.

"There's always a first time," he assured me, and then he did kiss me.

Did I mention that Andy was hot with a capital H? Well, he was, and he knew how to kiss. I couldn't help but kiss him back, but that was all I was going to do. A few kisses wouldn't hurt.

I'd momentarily forgotten that I was naked and suddenly I found out what a huge disadvantage that was. Normally if you're kissing a boy and he wants to touch your breasts he's got to get past your clothes. While he's fumbling with them you can break off the kiss and remove his hand. (That is, if you want to remove it.) You can't do that if you're naked.

One moment Andy was just kissing me and the next his hand was on my breast. My actual breast, not my top. I went to break off the kiss but he had one hand on the back of my head, holding me still. I suppose I could have protested but it wasn't as though he was doing anything too terrible. It was just my breast that he was touching and it wasn't as if it was hurting. Truth to tell it felt kind of nice, stimulating even.

I left his hand alone, concentrating on the kissing and the way his hand drifted across my breasts, stroking them and teasing my nipples. I could feel my nipples puckering up and idly wondered if he'd try to kiss them. (Only try, because I didn't think I'd let him.)

His lips finally left mine, drifting across my face, dropping fluttery little kisses as it went. I found myself arching my head back as he nuzzled my neck, his breath hot against me.

His hand dropped away from my breast, stroking downwards and I tensed slightly. Then I relaxed again. I was holding my legs together and he couldn't really touch me too intimately.

The slight distraction had served its purpose I found. While I was worrying about him touching me down there I overlooked the fact that his mouth was approaching my breast. Now he was actually kissing them and sucking lightly on the nipples. A bit late, it seemed to me, to protest now that he was doing it. The trouble, I decided, was that I liked it. Liking something doesn't mean it's good for you, I told myself very firmly, but I still didn't do anything to stop him. I was just relaxing and feeling.

He continued touching and tasting and I just let it happen. I knew he was stroking my leg but that didn't worry me. It wasn't as though he could do much just doing that, although I was surprised to find out just how sensitive my legs were to a man's touch. It was really quite erotic and I was starting to feel somewhat heated.

His hand finally moved away from my leg. I let it go as I was finding his other hand more interesting. His arm was curved around my back, supporting me, and he had decided that that support should extend to my breast. His hand was cupping it, his thumb once again teasing my nipple.

He was stroking my leg again and I was quite shocked when I found his hand move along it until it was pressing lightly against my mound. How had that happened? A glance showed that my legs weren't quite as tightly closed as I'd thought. In fact they were separated quite a bit and his hand was now cupping my pussy, rubbing it. That was definitely going too far.

I dropped my hand onto his, holding it and moving it away from where it was. There was no resistance. He seemed quite happy to move his hand to where I wanted it. Ah, no, I should correct that. It turned out that he was quite happy for me to move his hand to where he wanted it, because that meant that my hand was also there. He caught hold of my hand and turned it over, pressing it against him, and you can imagine what was there, hiding under his clothes.

He left my hand there, his hand returning and starting to lightly rub my mound, while my hand just stayed right where it was, too scared to move. I couldn't just leave it there, not really. The trouble was that I was also being distracted by Andy's hand rubbing against my pussy, exciting me. I started to pull my hand away from where it was resting and found it got snagged in the material. I was confused for a moment and then I caught on. His trousers were undone. That meant if I just moved my hand under that piece of material. . .

Now my hand was really frozen to the spot, knowing what it would be touching if I moved it. I couldn't help wondering what it would be like to hold it. I knew what it would look like, sort of, but to actually touch it, hold it?

I really had no choice but to move my hand and touch him. At least, that's what I told myself. I didn't tell myself why I had no choice, probably because I didn't know. My hand slid sidewards, vanishing under his trousers and closing over the prize. By an odd coincidence when I squeezed what I found Andy also squeezed my pussy a little harder.

Andy had his mouth on one breast and his hand on the other while his other hand was doing peculiar things to my sensitive feelings. In exchange all I got to do was hold his erection, although I will admit that there seemed to be plenty for me to hold. I eased it out of his trousers and looked at it and it was standing tall and proud. It also looked every bit as big as it felt.

We continued along those lines for a while, basically me stroking his cock and coming to know what it felt like, and Andy doing dastardly things to my body. I was breathing hard and thinking that his air conditioner must have broken down completely. Why else would I be feeling so hot?

I didn't suspect a thing when he tilted me over and laid me on the bed. Everything continued the same as before, except that I was lying down and Andy was lying next to me. Mind you, he did use his toe to separate my legs a bit more but that didn't really make any difference.

I found out otherwise when he rolled over and was lying between my legs, sort of half lying and half hovering over me. His hand was still rubbing me down there, just not as industriously as before, more like moving my lips apart. I'd lost my hold on his cock when he'd moved but looking along my body I could see it there, almost resting on my tummy.

I could see he was adjusting the position of his cock and I was wondering why and then it dawned on me. He was going to put that thing inside me.

It was an instant case of no way, Jose. I had not agreed to this. He was not, I repeat, not going to have sex with me.

"Hold on, Andy, that's far enough. I told you I wouldn't let you do this."

Firm, strong, words, letting him know exactly where I stood on the matter. Still, maybe they would have been more effective if I'd actually spoken them instead of just thinking about saying them.

His cock was now pressing against me and I could see my flesh wrapping around him when he moved his hand away. My god, he was going to do this. In this situation a short sharp NO was required.

What was not required was my lying there, watching, and going, "Ah, ah, ah," in a steadily rising voice as his cock continued to push into me. There was a stab of pain and a much louder, "AAH," and I wasn't a virgin any longer. Not that a little incidental like that stopped his cock from advancing, filling me up and then making more room, so it could fill me up some more.

He finally stopped, for the simple reason that he'd run out of cock, even if it did take a while to reach that point. I stopped looking at the point where he'd merged with him and looked at his face. He had a pleased and warm smile that lit up his whole face. I suspect that I had a more tentative and nervous smile but it didn't seem to worry him.

He started moving, pulling out and sliding back in. Friends have told me about it but knowing and experiencing are somewhat different. He was moving quite slowly, looking at me expectantly. What was I supposed to do?

Oh, yeah. Certain conversations I'd had with girlfriends came back to me. The next time he pushed in I pushed to meet him, seeing a pleased look cross his face. OK, so now I knew what to do.

Andy settled down to a steady movement and I moved with him. My, but it felt absolutely marvellous. In no time flat I was in a dreamy state, just letting what was happening happen. I could stand a lot more of this and hoped to get it.

I don't know how long this went on but I was probably purring while it happened. The funny thing was that after a while I was starting to feel restless. I didn't know why, but there it was. I found that instead of just pushing up to meet Andy I was starting to grumble a little (just a little) as though there was something missing. At the same time I was feeling wildly excited, really loving what Andy was doing to me.

There was a sudden change to the way Andy was treating me. That lovely motion went by the way, with Andy now all macho and dominating, his cock driving into me fiercely. I was all, "What the hell?" and then I imploded or something. I guessed afterwards that I'd climaxed. All I knew was that my body went berserk, huge waves of pleasure just rolling through me, leaving me shaken and fuzzy feeling.

I finished up flat on my back with Andy lying next to me, his hand holding one breast. (Amazing, isn't it. Show a man a breast and they grab for it.) Andy didn't seem to have anything to say at that point and me, while I had plenty to say I wasn't sure how to go about saying them.

That's the point we were at when the first whining sound started up, flowed seconds later by a second whining sound. I was halfway off the bed and heading for the kids when I remembered my current state. Naked and sticky with unidentifiable fluids on me. No way was I running to the kids like that.

"Your problem," I told Andy rather smugly. "I have to have a shower. Good luck. We'll discuss this later. And we will discuss it," I said, putting an ominous tone into my voice. It seemed to me that I'd need to keep him off balance while I sorted things out.