Robbie's Sitter - Daphne

Robbie's Sitter – Daphne

1 – The job revealed

Daphne, a conceited, tall blond, a month out of high school for good, almost didn't take the job.

"But Mom! He's RETARDED!" complained the lithe, tanned beauty, throwing her long, wavy blond hair over her shoulder, eyes glowering, pink-painted lips in a tight line under a cute, narrow nose.

"It's Pastor Young's son, and you WILL do it or no cell phone for a MONTH! Is that CLEAR?" retorted Mom.

The everlasting Bitch! Always threatening the cell phone, MY cell phone. Can't wait to get out of this hell hole.

Daphne lifted her eyes, chin jutted, an expression of grudging acceptance of her Mom's latest crazy assignment…babysitting the retard.

Counting on her delicate fingers, one item at a time, "I've seen him throw food. I've seen him shout and scream for an hour straight for no good reason. I've also seen him pull out his thingy and play with it in the playroom at church even!" pleaded the young blonde.

"Will you actually say no to our Pastor, after all the math help he gave you after school?" Mom's hands on her hips, head bowed in a questioning glare.

Daphne blushed and looked at the floor remembering those 'tutoring sessions' and stuck her pinky nail in her teeth, remembering all too well.

"Didn't think so. You should be ashamed of yourself. "

Walking away muttering, Mom's last words could be heard echoing down the hall, "Poor Robbie, he's a thirty-year-old with the mind of an eight-year-old." Calling back, "I'm bringing you over at five pm sharp, so be ready to go at quarter of with your duffel bag packed. You're staying the night." Mom's eyes squinted in sardonic satisfaction.

It'll be good for her. Maybe she'll mature out of the teen witch she is now.

2 – Arrival at Pastor Young's house

Daphne slammed the door shut and gave Mom one last good vexing stare of stabbing evil. Mom simply waved with a too-wise smile and drove off before any more words were exchanged.

Now standing alone on a dark October evening, the chill wind blowing wet leaves in her fair hair and mischievously lifting her plaid school-day skirt, Daphne hefted her pink duffel bag and walked toward the door.

Lifting her hand to knock, she looked above the door into a lit window, and noticed Robbie staring down at her, tongue working feverishly around his lips, his hand inside his pants working his favorite toy.

No shame at all, that stupid retard. I can't believe I have to do this.

Two delicate knocks and the front door opened. A pleasant breath of warm air washed over her face.

"Why Daphne, you're early." Pastor Young commented, his eyebrows raised and eyes thoroughly examining her full, pert breasts, nipples stiff from the evening chill. "Do come in."

Daphne self-consciously held an arm over her breasts, heat rising in her cheeks as she felt the hard little nubs of her nipples poking outward. She instantly regretted not changing out of a low-cut, v-neck, soft, super-thin cream sweater-top and no bra. Looking in the foyer mirror, the faint blushes of her areolas were just visible through the near-sheer fabric.

Great. He'll never take his eyes off me the whole night. It's not my fault. I thought I was going to the mall, not to the mental home.

After exchanging pleasantries with Pastor and Mrs. Young and being shown where Robbie's medication was and the first aid kit and all the emergency phone numbers, the adults finally left for the evening. Not without the dirty Pastor sneaking one last look at Daphne, however, seated on the couch, her slender legs crossed with lots of skin showing under the short skirt. His eyes lingered on her young, bronze thighs, and then moved to the exposed bottom curve of her cute ass. Licking his lips, his smirk washed off fast when his eyes lifted to see Daphne furrowing her brow at him and tugging her skirt down a bit. At that moment, Mrs. Young jerked him out the door – Daphne noted that he was arranging himself via his hand in his pocket.

The dirty old perv, Daphne thought to herself, rolling her eyes.

3. Robbie

"Rob-bie!" called his newly-arrived sitter. "Robbie, come down here. I'm supposed to feed you your favorite food, macaroni and cheese!"

Rapid footfalls descended the main stair. Robbie's pudgy face, contorted into a bizarre mix of eagerness and wonder, appeared shortly thereafter in the kitchen. He was large, not grossly overweight, but the spittle on his chin made Daphne grimace and gaze downward toward the kitchen island's stovetop, trying in vain to forget the sight.

"Would you like to sit on the stool and watch me cook?" asked the young blonde, instantly regretting asking.

"Uh-huh!" garbled Robbie between bites of crackers he managed to find in front of him, now seated at the island.

Stirring the mac and cheese, she felt his eyes burning into her breasts. Thankfully the heat from the stove calmed her nipples. Thank God.

"Ah yoo mah gahfend?"

Startled and not believing her ears, "what did you say?"

Daphne watched in disbelief as Robbie actually blushed, dropped his gaze from her tits into his mess of crumbs before him, and repeated the question, with sickening clarity.

"Ahr yoo mah gahrfend?"

Well he almost said it right.

"No, you little runt! I'm more like your servant if you wanted to know. The less talking we do, the better, and, the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner I'll start enjoying myself here. " This last bit she muttered half under her breath, stirring the pot, cursing to herself as she took notice that the rising steam was wetting her sweater making her rosy, round nipples much more visible.

Seeing this, Robbie clapped and hooted, and pointed at her young bosom. Crumbs spraying from his mouth, he shouted, "Gahfend! Gahfend! Dahfnee mah gahfend!"

Daphne decided dinner was done, and poured his disgusting macaroni and cheese slop into his plastic dish. She slid the bowl in his direction.

Leaning forward, both hands spread wide on the dark granite counter top, "Now eat and take your filthy little eyes off of me!"

Robbie quieted, his eyes roving between the dark mystery of her cleavage, now visible as she leaned toward him, and the yummy-smelling, yellow-orange pasta now shoved in front of him.

"You eat. I'm grabbing a drink" stated Daphne, matter-of-factly.

Reaching into high cabinets, she found a bottle of vodka after the third try, and poured herself a screwdriver. After pounding a couple, she felt the delightful, warm glow inside change her mood for the better.

3. TV Time

"Your mom's note says that before bed you're allowed to watch some TV." Adding a little lie, Daphne continued, managing to sound just like her own mother, "Your bedtime is eight pm, sharp!" She sat down, neatly folding her skirt underneath her, on the far side of the sofa.

Before Daphne could take command, Robbie clumsily picked up the remote and dialed in his favorite station. That is, the one when his mah and dah weren't looking.

"The Playboy Channel! Pastor Young has the f-ing Playboy Channel?" Daphne raised her voice in complete shock, unaware that Robbie started fiddling with himself, right in front of her.

Robbie's eyes were wide open, his tongue hanging out, and drool making his chin shine as he watched some naked, blonde goddess wash herself in the shower.

"We're NOT watching this! American Idol is on! Gimme that!" commanded Daphne, reaching for the 'mote.

He pulled it away from her, and, as she leaned over his lap to reach for it, her eyes looked down and registered a shocking, unimaginable sight. Holy shit! He's got a giant cock!

It stood erect, the tip wet already and the lengthy mass of it sticking right out of his fly. She noticed, for the first time, that he was wearing bright yellow Sponge Bob boxers, and his huge dick made it look like Sponge Bob had the biggest nose ever.

That's when he grabbed her.

4. The Couch Deal

His hands were strong.

Too strong! Daphne wiggled in vain to escape his clutches. He held her tight around her tiny waist, his fingers digging into her tender skin, exposed as her cropped sweater-top rode up high while reaching for the TV remote.

"Let go! I said, let go, Robbie!"

The young blond squirmed and slapped at his hands to no avail.

"Gahfend!" is all that Robbie said. His hands slid up her midriff stopping at her boobs. Her sweater bunched up, lifting precariously high, exposing the pale, lower curves of her tits.

I'm missing American Idol, and this stupid Mongloid is squeezing me to death, the idiot!

Robbie, using his inhumanly strong grip, turned her toward the TV, her ass now uncomfortably positioned in mid-air above his huge, throbbing cock. She just barely reached her tip-toes to the floor while holding her hands onto his shoulders to keep from being lowered anywhere near his lap.

Her wriggling resulted in Robbie's hands sliding up and lifting her sweater up and over her rosy nipples. His fingers closed over each tear-drop shaped, 36-B breast. He immediately went quiet, lowered her a bit so she could just barely plant her feet, and loosened his grip in order to stroke the tops of her un-tanned titties with his large thumbs, feeling the delicate, soft curves.

"That's ENOUGH!" screamed an irate, embarrassed Daphne.

No result. His fingers moved and started brushing her nipples, stiffening from the attention. He began to knead her delicate boobs when an idea struck her.

Pleading now, in a calmer, more reasonable tone, "Okay Robbie, okay. How about if I be your girlfriend and we'll have a real, live date watching American Idol? Okay?"

The spell was broken. "Gahfend!" Robbie exclaimed and released her onto the flats of her feet.

Daphne pulled down her sweater, embarrassed that her nipples were quite erect, and tingling, which also awakened her young pussy, now aching with a pulsing heat. She quickly held herself, hiding her erections from Robbie's view.

Standing in front of Robbie, arms cradling her bosom, her face a storm of fury, she blustered, "I hate you!" Exasperated, the sitter scrunched her lovely eyes shut, her upper body bent toward him with emphasis on each word.

Robbie was mesmerized and said nothing. He stared at her pretty blond hair. He admired the shadow of her cleavage, and then drank in her lightly-tanned, lithe legs.

"Yoo smahl nahce" blurted the retard. "Gahfend!" Robbie actually patted the couch next to him, no doubt learning this from watching his stupid, perverted dah or dumb mah.

Taking a deep breath, Daphne saw a chance to calm him down before bedtime and so played along. "Give me the remote, and I'll sit next to you, alright?"

Robbie was an obedient puppy, now. He grabbed for the remote, knocking it off the armrest of the couch and then leapt up to go fetch it.

"Just don't grab me like you did. It scared me." Daphne told him as she took a seat on the sofa, farthest from his seat, and placed a round, burgundy pillow on top of her tucked-under legs.

Reaching out for the remote, her jaw dropped a moment when he turned around toward her, the giant member swinging from his open boxer fly.

He's just so well hung…it's really a damned shame to be wasted on such a dud of humanity.

The lovely young blonde sitter snatched the remote from Robbie's hand and pointed to the opposite end.

"You. There. Keep your hands to yourself, and be quiet."

Changing the channel seemed to absolutely drive him nuts. He jumped up on the couch screaming at the top of his lungs, bouncing up and down like a monkey at the zoo. Her eyes momentarily locked onto his swinging manhood and then onto his face, now streaming with tears.

"Gahfend! Gahfend!" he was screaming so loud, she was sure the neighbors would come knocking. He pointed at her chest all the while, screaming away.

"Shhh. Shhh. It's okay, Robbie. I'm your girlfriend."

Sensing the root of the problem, Daphne slid over toward him, and stroked his shoulder, beckoning him to sit down. He did. She moved in close, her boobs brushing his muscular arm, and brushed his hair back, soothing him.

"See? I'm your girlfriend. Let's start our date, okay?"

"Yesss!" agreed the simpleton, changing emotions from upset to happy in the blink of an eye.

5. Appeasing the monkey

American Idol entered its first commercial break which ruined the brief truce between them. Robbie's attention was now turned back to the soft, young honey now seated next to his pudgy self. Daphne felt large, warm fingers lift her sweater up. Her right tit popped out, cool air washing over it and arousing her nipple. Robbie stared at it with a big, simpleton smile. His hand reached into his pants and the whacking began in earnest. She couldn't really blame him, she'd seen many other girls' boobs, and she definitely had a pair of winners. Deciding it was harmless, she kept her boob out and let him drink in the sight, moving her attention back to the TV, and to her show which was just resuming.

Robbie's hand action increased and his breathing got so loud that she had to turn away from the tube to see what he was so excited about. His free hand was outstretched, creeping toward her exposed breast. His eyes were fixed on the prize. His tongue going wild around his lips. Before she could flinch, his thumb and forefinger locked onto her nipple, now fully erect and an easy target.

She tried to pull away, slapping at his hand, but his grip was tight. Wincing, she looked down to see her nipple flatten and stretch outward under his vice-grip as she tried to pull back from him. Her sweater-top lifted up completely, revealing her other pale breast, bouncing slightly.

"Oww! Robbie! Let me go!"

"Gahfend!"

Clearly determined, he pulled his hand from his pants and grabbed Daphne's other boob, again latching onto her erection with his thumb and forefinger. There was wetness on these fingers. He tugged her nipples in an alternating manner, much like a cow's udders being milked, and she, struggling to pull away, watched in desperation again and again as her nipples stretched unbelievably in his grip.

The young blonde lifted a hand and slapped his face as hard as she could. Robbie released her tits and held his face, a mask of pathetic shock and hurt.

"Yoo haht me! Ah tull Dah!"

Rolling her eyes, and tugging down her sweater top, swollen nipples stinging, Daphne calmed herself.

I'm not letting this idiot ruin my cell phone priveleges!

"I'm sorry. It's not your fault. You're just being a boy, I guess."

Sobbing, Robbie managed, "ah tahwt yoo mah gahfend" and covered his face with his hands, sobbing more loudly now.

I'll never get to watch the show this way. Maybe a little play would shut him up. After all, it's just my boobs – who knew how many boys, and even some older men, have fondled them…

"If I be your girlfriend, and…eh…let you play with me a little bit…do you promise to be gentle and quiet and let me watch my show?"

Again the immediate turnaround as a bright smile lit up his man-child face. "Yah! Gahfend! Dahfnee!"

"…and back to your American Idol…"

Sensing that now was the time to deliver, Daphne watched Robbie's gaze shift to her bosom as she lifted her sweater, slowly, freeing her puffy, sore nipples. They sprung free, standing at immediate attention to Robbie's delight.

Clapping his hands, the man-boy watched as the cooler air made her pink nips harden into long, straight rods, an inch long. Robbie's face was a child's on Christmas morning. Daphne blushed, her cheeks warm as they reddened.

I can't believe I'm doing this.

Robbie tentatively reached over, with fingers outstretched, and firmly gripped her soft boobs. His thumbs passed back and forth over her nubs, making them point up then down. Before he started kneading or pinching again, Daphne softly coached, "Gentle now…not like before…"

He was gentler, and carefully squeezed both boobs as if he were giving each a gentle handshake. He looked up at her face for approval but Daphne had her eyes closed and head tilted back, secretly imagining it was her favorite American Idol hunk doing this to her. That made her hot and wet…very wet.

She opened her eyes and saw him looking at her instead of her boobs. Heat flushed her cheeks as she dropped her gaze downward and watched her young tits being squeezed by this thirty-something cretin. Between squeezes, pale finger marks marked his hands' work, but he wasn't hurting her. She lifted her chin and smiled at him. "Good boy." He smiled back, eyes wide open, and kept up the molestation.

"Bah-fend", he corrected. Robbie went back to watching himself play with her tits; Daphne turned her head back toward the TV, warmth throbbing in her cheeks, nipples, and down lower.

He squeezed them, pushed them together, pushed them down and watched them spring back up. He weighed them, lifting just enough to make them bounce upon release. He even blew onto her nipples, something she never would have expected, which sent a shiver of electricity straight down to her girl area, now definitely wet.

I'm going to have to change my underwear, thought Daphne as Robbie gently blew on each nipple again.

Curious, Daphne stole a glance down at his lap, secretly wanting to see that monster in his pants come alive again.

She wasn't disappointed as the fist-sized head stood tall, the whole shaft maybe eight or nine inches with a thick, veiny girth. She bit her lower lip and just couldn't take her eyes off of it. She shocked herself by a sudden thought. I'd need both hands to tug on it while I sucked. That mushroom head would fill my whole mouth…

6. Bath time

Robbie's touching and blowing on her tits made Daphne just too distracted…too aroused, to sit and watch her show. She also became very aware that they were on the ground floor of the house with all the window curtains open. Anyone could see her, and she would be humiliated.

A baby shampoo commercial came on the TV and Daphne remembered the note. Give him a hot bubble bath before putting him to bed. It helps him to fall asleep quickly.

Taking his large, warm fingers in her tiny hands, removing them from her tender breasts, Daphne said, "Let's go take a bath, it's bedtime, Robbie."

A pout formed on his dopey face.

"Your girlfriend really wants to give you a bath", countered the blonde sitter, looking into his eyes with a sly, foxy look. Straightening her back, the lovely honey pushed her naked boobs into him, shook them a little and then got up off the couch and took her sweater off right in front of him. Robbie started whacking himself again, watching his new girlfriend free all of her beautiful, blonde hair from her little, tight sweater top. Loving the sight of her lithe, tanned body, with only the most subtle tan lines across her tits, Robbie gripped his shaft and really jerked. His rod turned red, then purple, and then he let out a groaning sound, growing louder and louder and then a gasp.

Daphne cupped her hands over her mouth in lighthearted disbelief as Robbie finally got himself off. She felt a warm glob of his spray land right in and around her navel. The rest spurted onto her plaid skirt, with a string of gooey warmth hitting her left thigh. Covering a growing smile with her hands, Daphne dropped her blouse onto the coffee table and headed for the stairs. With her back turned to him, she put a finger to her midriff, wiped some of his spooge onto it, and put it in her mouth, tasting the salty warmth.

"Coming?" Daphne queried as she headed for the stairs.

He already did, (chuckling). Damn, I'm horny. I need some alone time. He needs to go to sleep fast.