My mother-in-law had had a bit of a fall and as a result was feeling rather shocked. Marie had gone over to spend the weekend with her, making sure she was alright. This left me with two little ankle-biters to look after for the weekend.
That wasn't a problem. I could handle the kids easily enough. The problem I did have was that I'd arranged to go out to this do on Saturday night, and I didn't want to disappoint my hosts.
Enter the baby-sitter.
Rachelle is the sitter we regularly use. We've used her for years. She must be nearly twenty now, and I suppose she won't be bothered with sitting for much longer. She has a pretty face and nice curly hair which she is forever trying to straighten. I have a suspicion that she may be a little chubby, but it's hard to tell as she always seems to wear these loose baggy track-suit type things whenever she's around.
I gave her a call and she agreed to come over. She also warned me that we'd better start looking for a new sitter as she finding that she didn't really have the time for it. She said she'd let us have a couple of numbers. I guessed that one right, it appeared.
Rochelle rolled up at the agreed time and I shot through to my appointment. I had a pleasant time, but was just a bit bored without Marie there. Most of the other guests were couples and I kept feeling like the odd man out. I finished up cutting out early and heading home.
It was a really pleasant night out. We'd had rain the previous day and that seemed to have washed the air. Now the skies were clear, the air was fresh and warm, and the stars were bright. All of this probably contributed to what followed.
My house is high on a hill, and on a night like this the city is a glittering panorama below us. You could stand on the back porch and see for miles. I'd even installed a spa on the back porch. It's fun to spend some lazy time in the spa looking out over the city.
I arrived home and entered, trying to be reasonably quiet, not wanting to wake the kids. They can be the very devil to get back to sleep. I'd just reached the kitchen when Rochelle came waltzing in the back door.
Ay caramba, or whatever it is that the Spanish say when they get a shock.
I learnt a few things about Rochelle in those few seconds. She hadn't heard me arrive home. She liked to use a spa. She liked to use a spa naked. She was not chubby. Those track suit things she wore concealed a splendid body. (I made a mental note to break into Rochelle's place and burn every one of those outfits. It was a crime for her to wear them.) Where was I? Oh yes. Rochelle liked to be clean shaven and she liked an occasional glass of wine.
Rochelle didn't see me standing at the kitchen door. She blithely skipped over to the fridge, poured herself a glass of wine and went skipping back out to the spa. Watching her bend over to get the wine cask out of the fridge was a severe trial for my composure, I can assure you.
I went over to the fridge and extracted some beer and poured myself a glass. Then I stripped off and went out onto the back porch. Rochelle was sitting back, eyes closed, music softly playing from the smart phone on the nearby bench. She had her glass of wine in one hand and was idly conducting with the other. She didn't even know I was there until I was settling into the water on the other side of the spa.
Her eyes popped open when she felt me settling down and she stared at me in horror.
"When did you get home," she said, her voice squeaky with surprise. Or was that horror? Then her own nudity registered with her.
"You can't get in here with me," she protested. "I'm naked."
"Don't let that worry you," I said affably. "Lots of people use the spa naked. I do all the time."
Our legs were bumping against each other in the spa, and Rochelle gave another little squeak and edged around on the spa seat a bit. This brought her closer to me but at least our legs weren't tangled. I suppose that she thought the trade-off was worth it.
I could see she was surreptitiously eyeing me, trying to work out if I was actually nude in the spa with her.
"Yes, Rochelle, I'm naked as well. I saw you in the kitchen and thought you'd be embarrassed if I hopped in the spa dressed while you were nude. This way we're on even terms."
Her face flamed red at the realisation I'd seen her walking around naked.
"You saw I was naked and you still got in with me?" She sounded quite shocked.
"Mmm," I said. "You've got a lovely figure, by the way. Why the devil do you hide it in those god-awful track-suits."
"I don't," she protested. "It's just that track-suits are easier when you're dealing with kids."
"Good point," I admitted. "I'd had kid's food spilled on suits before and it's a pain. It's just that when I saw you I couldn't help thinking that these are much too nice to be perpetually hidden."
With that comment I reached over and casually touched one of her nipples, which was floating just above the water. Rochelle gasped and slapped at my hand, realised that her breasts were on display from the nipples up and hastily sank lower into the water.
"You shouldn't touch me," she muttered. "You're not really naked are you?"
"Ah, yes," I confessed. "See."
This time I didn't touch her so much as take her hand and place it in my lap. Or as close to my lap as it could get before encountering my erection. Rochelle's hand closed over me a split second before she realised what she was holding. Then she let go as though it was on fire.
"You can't do that sort of thing," she gasped. "You married."
"I know, but I'm also horny and my wife's not here, but you are. You can feel how badly I'm in need."
With that I pulled her hand back over to my erection, with Rochelle holding it a bit longer before letting go.
"Really, Alex, you can't do that sort of thing. Just because Marie is not here doesn't mean that you can come onto me."
"Rochelle, the reason I'm coming on to you is because you are an attractive young woman with a superb figure and I want to know what it feels like when you're wrapped around my cock."
In her agitation, Rochelle had forgotten she was supposed to keep her breasts submerged. She sat up a little straighter to tell me off, only realising her error she saw my eyes looking down. She gasped and ducked back down. Then, possibly worried that I'd drag her hand over to my erection again, she sidled slightly away from me so that we were now opposite each other, legs tangling slightly.
I lifted one foot and ran it along the inside of her leg. Rochelle hastily pushed it away just before it reached anything interesting. Then she had to quickly push my other foot away.
"I'm getting out," she muttered. "Will you please look away?"
"You have got to be joking," I said, amazed that she could suggest such a thing.