BabySitter Careless

I was asked to sit for the Saxons. Never averse to earning a little extra pocket money I agreed and wandered over there on Friday evening. Mind you, I'd rather have been spending my time at a night club with my friends, but that requires money, of which I had none. The money I got from the Saxons would pay for an outing on the Saturday night.

A friendly household the Saxons. There were Jack and Andrea, the young couple I'd be sitting for. They were about twenty two, only a couple of years older than me. There were the twin girls, adorable little things. They'd smile at you and you'd completely overlook the mischief they were getting into. Finally, there was Andrew Saxon, Jack's father. He was fortyish, a big burly man, always friendly, but reluctant to baby-sit.

Mr Saxon's philosophy was that he'd done his share of baby-sitting in the past. He didn't mind doing it occasionally, but he much preferred Jack and Andrea get a sitter in. Hence my being called up.

This particular night Jack had no idea how late they'd be so he'd arranged for me to spend the night. Mr Saxon was also going out, and he also had no time limit on his return. Effectively it was me and the girls until the following morning.

The Saxon's house was older than Mister Saxon. It was a big old place, and tended to be somewhat draughty. On a really windy night you'd find doors in the house popping open if they weren't closed properly. For that matter, some doors would pop open even when it wasn't windy, those doors just being naturally contrary. The door to my bedroom had one of those doors but Andrea had shown me the trick of getting it to close properly. You had to lift the handle hard as you closed the door, in order to move the snib high enough to engage in the catch. Strictly speaking the door should either be rehung or the catch should be moved down a little bit.

Jack and Andrea and the old man went off for their outings leaving me to amuse the girls. We played for a while and then it was a case of baths and bed and soon they were fast asleep. I settled down to watch television, not being in the least tired.

It was after eleven when the film I was watching finished and I decided to go to be. I'd just finished getting undressed when that damn door opened with a mournful creak. I said something rude to the door, knowing it was my fault as I'd been careless and forgotten to lift it when I closed it.

* * * * *

I strolled over to close the door and just as I reached it Andrew walked past, turning his head and getting a complete eyeful of yours truly in all her natural glory.

I didn't even have time to blush. He just stepped up to me, pressed me back against the wall, and kissed me. He might have been an old man but, oh my lord, did he know how to kiss. I tried to push him away, but really all I seemed to be doing was pawing at his chest. For his part, his hand covered one of my breasts, teasing it, and I could feel my nipples puckering. Trying to pull my mouth away from him got me nowhere, as he just kept kissing me.

I didn't realise just how much trouble I was in until I felt his cock trying to gain entry. I went to twist my mouth away from his so I could voice my objections when his teeth closed gently over my lower lip, holding it firmly. With him holding me like that I couldn't struggle and I couldn't even protest, and then his cock found the entrance it had been seeking and came surging up into me.

He released my lip, returning to kissing me some more, but now his hips were moving, his cock sliding gently in and out, stirring me up. I should have done something, protested, or kicked, or something, but I found myself just going along with what he was doing, rocking back and forth, letting him do what he would.

All I was aware of was his lips on mine, his hands on my breasts, teasing them, and his cock surging into me, bring a rhythmic delight to my body. Protest? Why would I want to? What was happening was wonderful, just what I needed, even if I didn't know I needed it.

The soft rocking motion just went on and on, seeming to have an almost timeless aspect to it. I was quite content to just let it happen. I was quite surprised when his movement became more urgent. I found that new urgency was lending itself to me, giving me a feeling that something was happening and I needed to be ready for it.

It slowly filtered through my rather dazed mind that I was approaching a climax, and I had no objection to that at all. A sudden last moment flurry from Andrew and my climax exploded through me, and I could tell that Andrew was having one too.

He pulled away, disengaging, giving me a gentle smile.

* * * * * * * * * *

I strolled over to close the door and just as I reached it Andrew walked past, turning his head and getting a complete eyeful of yours truly in all her natural glory.

Before I could so much as blush he was stepping into the room, catching my wrists when I tried to cover myself.

"Will you just look at you? You are marvellous. You do realise that this means I am going to have to make love to you?"

He had to be joking. Didn't he? From the way he was looking at me I wasn't going to bet on it.

I opened my mouth to protest but he shifted his grip to my upper arms and twisted. I was promptly off balance and found myself being guided down to lie flat on my back on the carpet. Andrew then seized hold of my ankles and lifted then high, pushing them apart at the same time.

It turns out that when you're flat on your back with your legs in the air it's rather hard to struggle, unless you're a trained gymnast, which I wasn't. I was effectively pinned there, completely exposed to Andrew's eyes. My position didn't improve when he pushed his trousers and shorts down, showing his rape qualifications were writ long and fat.

"Oh, come on," I protested. "You don't really intend to use that thing on me?"

He just grinned and pushed my legs higher so I was almost bent double. For crying out loud, I was bent so far over that I was actually looking at my own vagina. Then I wasn't as his hand was covering it, rubbing it.

I couldn't even grab at his hand to move it away from there, my own legs hindering me. All I could do was swear at him and try to twist out from under his hand, with zero success.

"Watch," he said, and as I watched he slipped two fingers inside me. I could feel them moving around in me and I felt totally shocked that he'd do such a thing.

"What do you feel when I do something like this?" he asked, moving his hand, and I gave a small scream. He'd touched me around the clitoris, and I was feeling really sensitive there.

"Don't do that," I gasped, and he laughed.

"Okay. I'll do this instead," he said, and his fingers spread my lips apart while his other hand steered his cock into position. Just like that I was forced to watch as his cock started to sink into me. I wasn't exactly a virgin, but I certainly had never seen a cock actually penetrating me before. He pulled his hands away and I could see my lips close around him, holding him in place.

He pushed a little deeper, then pulled back a little. I was treated to the sight of my lips clinging to him as he pulled back that little bit, not wanting him to go. That set the pattern for the next minute or so. He'd sink in a little, pull back a little, but each time he'd sink in a little further than he'd pull back.

He finally gave that last little push, his groin slapping home against mine, his cock fully inside me. Now his hands came up to cover my breasts.

I suddenly realised that I'd been steadily swearing at him the entire time he was shafting me, apparently much to his amusement. I fell silent now and he gave me a wink.

"From this point on you might as well move with me," he told me. "It's going to happen anyway."

With that he started moving, his cock pulling back and then thrusting into me quite vigorously. Not only was it going to happen anyway but I was going to have a view of the entire thing, and all I could do was helplessly watch as his cock drove into me, again and again.

I was pushing up to meet him, mainly because it was easier to go with the flow than to try to resist. I will say I was getting a first class education on what it looks like when a man sticks his cock into a woman. It was both fascinating and horrifying. I honestly felt doubts that something that size could go into me, but there it was, plunging happily on its little excursions.

It quickly became apparent that in his forty some years Andrew had learned how to use his cock. He was putting on a far better performance than my boyfriend ever had and his experience was certainly showing. I suspect that he was also making allowance for my inexperience, taking it easier on me than he would on a more experienced partner, not that I was going to complain about how he was going.

As far as I was concerned the entire thing was degenerating into an 'oh my god, I don't believe this' experience with my arousal starting early in the piece and steadily building. After a while he started talking softly to me, telling me how wonderful I was, how marvellous I felt, how magnificent the experience was.

I didn't believe a word he was saying, but still. . . I kept moving with him, my eyes no longer on that cock that was plunging into me so repeatedly, but watching his face, enthralled by the gentle smile on his face. He was making me feel special, as though I really was remarkable, better than anyone he'd met before.

When he finally decided to end it I was totally entranced with what he was doing. He started coming in faster, hitting harder. I could feel all that heat within me coming together, solidifying, preparing to explode through me. I was like, "Ah, aah, aaah," getting noisier with each exhalation, and then I screamed softly as I climaxed, feeling him climax at the same time.

* * * * *

I looked at the closed door that Andrew had just passed through, feeling slightly stunned. I couldn't believe what had happened. I retired to the en suite that was attached to the guest bedroom, cleaning myself up before going to bed.

Did what had happened mean I shouldn't sit for the Saxons again? If I did, what would happen? Maybe, I decided, it was better to be safe than sorry, and I'd give up the sitting jobs.

As I drifted off to sleep a little niggling thought occurred. What will Andrew do if he wakes early with a morning wood, as my boyfriend describes it?
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BabySitter Careless

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