Bible Camp Babysitter - Day 02

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A daughter's friend unwraps more presents.
5.1k words
4.66
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Part 2 of the 4 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 11/30/2010
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I followed Mary and Jessica through the mall, feeling like the tag-along chauffeur, and doing everything I could to reinforce that image. I hung out just outside whatever store they entered, leaned against the handrail when there was one, and tried desperately to look bored.

In truth, my mind was very agreeably engaged. The two friends had dressed nicely. Dark tights disappeared into stylish boots, and beneath skirts not quite short enough to be saucy. Fuzzy sweaters with chunky collars did more to promote their warm breasts than to hide them, yet showed no excessive skin. Their hair was loose for warmth, and danced around their laughing faces.

By hanging out like the bored parent cajoled into driving, I could stare into the store. I had to be careful to keep my face relaxed and disinterested, but I could feast my eyes. Jessica clearly understood what I was doing, and did what she could to stay visible, prancing between racks, arching unnecessarily to reach something, bending over instead of crouching when looking for something on a low shelf. Every once in a while she'd throw me a glance with eyes on fire, but she was careful to keep them short, and to make sure nobody was looking at her when she did.

Mary seemed blissfully oblivious to what had happened the previous night. Doubtless to her it just seemed that everyone was in a good mood or catching the holiday spirit. She tended to expect that I had little interest in spending a whole week with her and her friend. In truth, they might have been right in years gone by. Sure, I enjoyed bonding with my daughter, and Jessica had been her best friend since birth. Sure, it was fun to give them the treat of a relaxed schedule with good food. But as to my own activities under those circumstances, interruptions were frequent, and riding my motorcycle was only an option once they were old enough to watch themselves for a few hours.

I hadn't exactly been looking forward to watching the girls when Susan left for her annual Women's Bible Camp - a week long tradition she'd started when my wife Catherine was still alive. But I hadn't exactly been dreading it either.

Yesterday, minutes after Susan had driven away, I had noticed she had left a woman behind. No longer could our daughters be called kids. These girls were physically mature. It had been a real shock. At first one that made me feel older - after all Mary was nineteen, so I could hardly be in my own twenties any more. But then Jessica had turned up in my bedroom in the middle of the night, desperately hungry, and ever since I'd felt more like a teenager myself.

"It didn't hurt?" I'd asked when she prepared to leave my room just before four AM. "I was really concerned."

"Oh," Jessica laughed lightly, no louder than a whisper, pulling her panties back on. "I read about that. While I've never had a true man before, I admit I've been playing with toys for more than a year. At first nothing more than what I could sneak into my room, but I saved up my pocket money for a few months and bought, well..." she trailed off. I could tell she was blushing - surprised by how easily she talked about it all.

"Jessica," I said, but she seemed to read the tone of my voice.

"Don't worry, Mr. Schmidt," she interrupted, wiggling a little to settle her nightgown into place. "I know you don't think it was right, that you did something horrible. But I'm a legal adult now, and it was important to me."

Jessica sat on the side of the bed again, just as she had when she first came into the room, and continued in a breathy whisper. "I've had a long time to think about this," she admitted. "I dreamed about it a lot when I came over last year. I've wanted to for ages. I only just worked up the nerve, and almost didn't even then."

"I still don't..."

She reached out and touched my lips with her finger, an endearing gesture she'd done all her life. Of course it felt different after glorious sex and sleeping together, but it also felt familiar, and I let her silence me again.

"I've thought about this for years," she murmured. "At least since I was sixteen. Like I said earlier - I like boys my own age, of course I do. A few of them are fun, most of them are good looking. Many of them have asked me out or made a pass at me. I've been to parties, and I've been touched a lot. But most of them are clumsy, and somehow too rough. And though lots of them are strong and even graceful in sports, I knew I needed something else. At least at first."

She took a breath, and looked away, hugging her arms around her stomach. "For my first few times, I wanted someone who knew what he was doing, someone bigger and fuller than the boys I know. Someone I knew I could trust, who would let me dictate the pace, or would know when to take over without being told. And, of course, someone who can't get me pregnant."

"How do you know that?" I asked incredulously.

"Oh, girls talk about this stuff once in a while, you know," she grinned. "I asked my mom, or my friends, how it is that parents seem to stop having children as they get older. I learned about contraception and everything, and I found a tactful way to find out from Mary - a long time ago really - that you'd had a vasectomy." Her grin was a little apologetic. "I really have been planning this for years. I can't believe the time finally came. And it really was everything I hoped for. You were like a powerful angel wrapping me up in his wings."

She let out a short, quiet laugh. "I bet that sounds all poetic. But I can't tell you how much it means to me that you didn't send me away."

I remained quiet, but she must have found what she was looking for in my face, for she beamed at me. "Listen, I know I can't have you forever. It must seem like a schoolgirl crush to you. And in a very real way I suppose it is. But I want you for the week. I'll be as discrete as I possibly can. I'll not give us away during the day, and I've been sleeping over with Mary forever. She almost never wakes up, and I even told her that sometimes I sleepwalk, or move to the couch for a few hours, like it's a quirk of mine. I'll be quiet, I'll sneak in well after she's asleep, and I'll get back before she wakes up."

She and Mary bounced out of the bath accessories shop, arm-in-arm, giggling. Mary had a small parcel that doubtless smelled wonderful. They went all of ten feet and turned into the next door - to a clothing shop. They spent an inordinate amount of time inspecting the fashions. Under normal circumstances this might have driven me to the electronics shop around the corner - or simply back to the truck to doze and wait - but Jessica made it a point to display all manner of leather, from jackets to pants to armbands, in such a way that I could see her clearly from the front of the shop and she could pretend her nervous excitement was from sharing daring fashion with her friend instead of showing it off to me. -- Hours later, after a long shopping trip - during which I had been thick and throbbing most of the time - I'd once again fed them a nice dinner and we'd settled in to change our pajama-movie tradition. No longer was it merely opening night, it was to be every night. I got a small fire going on the grate and Jessica picked a different kid's flick.

Whereas last night's movie built to a thickly sappy ending full of teary emotions, tonight she'd chosen something much more upbeat and fun. We all sat up a little straighter under the blanket, not so much snuggled in close, but I still had my arms along the back of the sofa. Mary sat up, smiling and laughing in all the right places. Jessica likewise had not nestled in under my shoulder, but like Mary was still pressed against my side.

I lost track of the film about 45 minutes in, when Jessica's hand shifted to my leg. I could feel the heat from her palm through my pajamas, the trembling vibrations of her body against mine. Her laughter was a little too loud, her reactions slightly overdone out of nerves, but not so much that Mary paid her much attention.

With deliberation, Jessica's hand worked its way up my leg, and as it approached I became stiffer. Due to the set of the fabric my dick couldn't stand up straight, but by the time her questing fingers found it, there was no mistaking what it was or how it felt about the contact.

For the remainder of the film Jessica traced her fingers around the bulge in my pajamas, occasionally wrapping her fingers around the shape as well as she could. Unfortunately, she had almost no experience with real penises, aside from last night, and didn't let up until the closing credits. Therefore when she pulled her hands out of the blanket to clap with Mary, I was still rock hard with no signs of letting up soon.

I made a big show of bundling up the blanket and carrying it away while Mary and Jessica reset the electronics and jabbered happily. I smiled as I carried the blanket to the den. I would spend some time on the computer, writing a little, playing a game or two, and head up to bed around eleven. A little early for me perhaps, but I was tired. I hadn't had a full eight hours the night before. -- In truth I made it to midnight. Sometimes the words flow effortlessly, and sometimes everything goes right in the game, and it's hard to find a good stopping point.

I yawned, locking doors and turning off lights as I worked my way through the house. I listened carefully as I passed Mary's room and could hear soft breathing. 'Soon enough, old boy,' I thought to myself. 'Be patient, and try to catch an hour or two sleep yourself.'

I entered my room with another yawn, scratched absently at the back of my head, and stopped dead. Jessica grinned back at me from my pillow, her beautiful fingers curled over the comforter, illuminated by the light from the hall.

"Mary's asleep," she whispered. "Been out since ten-thirty, but I only just came in myself. I wanted to make sure. And I tried to get in a nap. I don't want to give us away by being too tired during the day."

"Clever girl," I allowed, frozen in the doorway.

"Close the door all the way this time," she instructed.

I hesitated.

"Please, Mr. Schmidt," Jessica whispered again. "Close the door. I want to have a better light on. I'll be good and quiet."

I complied, shutting the door carefully. Jessica turned on my bedside light as I did, but turned it to a higher setting. One that bathed the bed in warm light, and illuminated the rest of the room dimly.

"Come over here," she whispered, sliding a little to the center of the bed. "It's cold."

In a little bit of a daze, I crossed the room, pulling off my pajama shirt.

"No, not yet," she instructed when I reached next for my waistband. "I have something specific in mind."

I reached the bed and she folded back the comforter.

It was indeed cold. Her nipples stood firm, her breasts ripe, her skin glowing in the light. She had completely disrobed.

"Here, prop up like you were last night, slouched while we talked," she whispered.

As though drugged, and perhaps I was on her youth and beauty, I obeyed.

"Just like that," she hummed, her eyed glued to the bulge that had returned to my pajama pants. I was half reclined, my legs under the covers, my chest exposed to the cool air. I had set the heater warmer than the night before, but it was still chilly. Jessica pulled the comforter back over her shoulder and hip. "Just let me explore," she implored, her delicate fingers reaching out.

For some time she traced and retraced the contours of my penis through my pajamas. She'd adjust me once in a while, or tuck the fabric around in order to make everything stand out. Her breathing deepened. I couldn't see her face, but rather a beautiful spread of her golden hair, but I could see her fingers as she savored the moment.

'This is also hell,' I thought to myself, remembering my preference for the lake of fire the night before. 'But a hell so sweet, so delicious, so captivating. A hell of tantalizing wait rather than tortured, uncertain desire.'

I felt she couldn't go much longer or I would cum all over my leg and the inside of my pajamas. I was on the verge of saying something, for no matter how I fooled myself, I knew how my orgasms went. My heat and horniness drained out with my fluids. 'I bet she could keep me interested,' I admitted. But I didn't know what her expectations were for the full evening, and I was sure I couldn't handle more than a second orgasm before feeling forced.

Twice, three times I took a breath intending to ask her to stop, only to hesitate, aswim in the pleasure of her delighted touches. Before I could try again, she shifted.

Giving me much needed relief, Jess ran her hand up my side, through the hair on my chest, and back down over my stomach. There her fingers slipped under the band of my pajamas, then back and forth as if to loosen it. She then pulled her hand back out and smoothed down the top of my pajamas and worked her fingers into the fly flap, undoing the solitary button. I'd been trapped at an awkward, downward angle, both by the fabric and her touches, but she grasped my shaft and eased me back out of the hole.

For a moment I simply relished the sensation of being free of the trappings, in the cool, open air, with her fingers wrapped tightly around me. Then I realized she'd been still for several seconds, staring at it. I lay still, except for the occasional twitch, and was, in any case, incapable of speech just then.

"It's so interestingly shaped," she purred, and aimed it upward. "But I expected more hair."

"Why do you say that?" I asked, my voice cracking as though I'd spent days in the desert without a drink.

"Mostly because I had a lot of hair down there I guess. But I think I'd heard some girls talking about it. I didn't know what to expect but I think I believed them."

"Many men are very hairy down there," I confirmed. "I myself would be hairier than this, but I shave it down to what you see."

"Why do you do that?" she asked, looking at the small, trapezoidal patch of hair I kept trim but didn't eliminate.

"At first it was because my pubic hair interfered with my wife's attentions," I admitted. "So I did it for her, but I found I really like it better this way, so have kept myself shaven."

"Oh." After a moments more inspection, she shifted up onto an elbow, the blanket falling off her beautiful shoulder, exposing a wide stretch of the white-tan skin of her back. She sat all the way up, hunched over my penis so that her breasts swayed slightly with her movements. Using both hands now, she held me in one hand, and traced the contours of my head with a fingertip. Her manipulations to see all sides of my penis felt like long-needed stretching and I moaned softly with pleasure.

"Is that uncomfortable?" she asked.

"Quite the opposite," I assured her breathlessly. "It feels wonderful."

"I'm so afraid of hurting you," she admitted, still curled so she could look closely at my penis. Indeed her touch continued to be soft, silky.

"I doubt," I managed, almost panting. "You could squeeze - hard enough - to hurt me. Even - with both - hands together."

"You're kidding," she breathed back, hesitating.

"And you can point me - in any direction, - even straight down. It won't - hurt. It will just - feel good."

She obliged, testing. She wrapped her left hand above her right, slowly increasing pressure until I could feel her shaking. I let out a long, luxurious breath. The sound convinced her. She squeezed again, as hard as she could. Then she wrapped both hands on top of each other, squeezing as hard as she could. I simply moaned again.

Jessica giggled, forcing me downward, then to the sides, and experimented with bending and squeezing. "I admit, last night, I was not prepared for the size of a penis," she said. I couldn't tell if her voice was playful or if I just relished hearing her say the words so much I added whatever inflection I wanted. "I'd never seen a real one. At first I thought they'd be the same size as a tampon. I mean, those are easy to find and use. They seemed to fit. But then my toys disabused me of that. I never bought anything very adventurous. Just a standard dildo. I didn't have a lot of money."

Jessica stopped squeezing and went back to tracing me with one finger while she held me upward with the other hand. "It was larger than a tampon, of course. But it was not nearly as big as this, nor did it have this bigger shape at the top. Are all penises this size?"

"They're different - sizes," I managed. "Surely you've - heard jokes - or something..." I was having trouble holding my voice together.

"Well, they're just jokes. I never knew for sure," she admitted. "I think most girls who tell jokes have no idea what they're talking about. It's the ones that don't joke or talk about it that really know."

"I'm average sized," I told her after a pause. "But you - make me feel - enormous."

"Is that good?" she asked, as if worried she'd just called me fat.

"Ohhh yeah," I breathed. "We all want - to feel huge - and satisfying."

"It was satisfying last night," she assured me, leaning down closer.

"I have the strangest urge," she whispered. I could feel her breath, hear her heartbeats accenting her words. "To put you - in my mouth."

She took her finger away and tentatively touched the tip of my head with her tongue. I held my breath, hardly daring to think, trying desperately to stay still and not thrust myself upward savagely. My whole body screamed to be slathered, to be covered in slick, silky warmth with the soft bite of teeth.

She licked me slowly, gently again, then lowered her head a touch further and kissed the very end of my dick. Her lips felt so soft and hot and my body felt on fire despite the cold, night air.

Slowly, gently, but deliberately she kissed me again and again, then started to work the kiss downward, opening her mouth to accept me in. One kiss at a time, moving forward less than the width of her own lips, she worked onward. One of the mind-numbing kisses found my head completely within her lips. I could feel the gentle brush of her teeth against the top of my head, and her tongue writhing slowly between the folds at the bottom.

She continued to kiss downward, taking a little more each time until she couldn't fit any more. There she stayed, working the flat width of her tongue against the bottom-side of the shaft of my penis, chewing ever so slightly with her sharp teeth.

"I'm going to cum," I whispered urgently, feeling the first hints of that hot, tingling rush.

Whether she didn't know the ramifications of what that meant, or intended to hold her mouth in place, I contracted, convulsed, and gritted my teeth with all my power to keep from bellowing in ecstasy - a sound that might have brought the neighbors, and for sure my daughter two doors away.

Jessica made a strange sound as though she'd coughed twice with her mouth completely full, and I could feel her hands and mouth working uncertainly. My semen shot out and spilled around my penis, increasing the velvety warmth, but making me immediately self-conscious. She stayed still a moment longer, as if trying to gauge what to do, then carefully lifted her head off my cock.

"Oh my gosh," she giggled quietly. "I didn't expect that!"

"I tried - to warn you," I whispered apologetically, and my penis jumped with an after-shock.

"It's so salty and warm," she said, wiping her lips and looking down. "I mean, of course that's what was going to happen. I mean, it happened last night too - didn't it. But I guess I hadn't put it all together."

"I'm sorry," I offered.

"No, no," she looked up at me, her lips and chin tantalizingly glazed. "I'm here to experiment and learn. That was perfect! I'm not saying I like the flavor, but then I'm not exactly saying I don't, either. It's just - new and unusual."

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