Babysitter Club, Part 1
"Hey, Rachel. How you doin'," I said as the young woman got into my car. Rachel had been our babysitter for the past year. She was a cute, 20-year-old college kid, who was out to make a little money. She always came over wearing casual clothes, her long brown hair cascading over her shoulders and hanging straight down her back. She was definitely a cute kid, one that was most likely driving the boys wild. And I admit that I was taken by her. I even admit that I wanted her... sexually...
Tonight she was wearing some cotton shorts and a spaghetti strap top, and looked absolutely delicious. Her legs were long, smooth, and tan. Her stomach showed a little between the shirt and the shorts giving a peek-a-boo feel. I groaned inwardly as she buckled her seatbelt.
It had been a rough year for me and my wife but we tried to keep things together. For some reason she had lost interest in sex. Neither one of us knew what had happened and had stopped even talking about it months ago. But the frustration really got to me. I was masturbating a lot, looking at porn on the Internet. Every now and then I slid into a strip club for a dance or two. I'd even bought a few magazines that were still around, hiding them in my bedroom. I needed sex bad.
For the past six months or so, my wife and I would still go out to try to renew our spark, and had Rachel over to watch Timmy. The pressure was obviously getting to me when I started flirting with the girl. It wasn't like I was perving on her or anything, but it was a difficult situation, with me being fifteen years older than her and being married. Rachel didn't seem to mind too much, and fought back with a little sexual innuendo, although she was shy about it.
I don't know why I didn't feel bad about lusting after her. I guess it was just because it felt good and she responded positively to it. And, so far at least, nothing was going to come of it.
Well it was another Friday night and my wife and I were going out to dinner and a movie. I went and picked Rachel up from her house and brought her over. We joked all the way over, with me teasing her about how good she looked and about how all the boys must be swarming over her. She just smiled and blushed, doubting it, and telling me that they're just stupid boys anyway. It seemed to me she was telling me that boys her age were too immature and she wanted someone... older. But I thought maybe I was reading too much into it in order to fit my fantasy.
Soon after arriving, my wife and I disappeared out the door, giving Rachel instructions on how to reach us if something came up.
The night was ok, I guess. About the same as it had been recently. We ate dinner without saying much and the movie wasn't anything special. It was a good romantic comedy that certainly put me in an amorous mood, but my wife seemed as cold and distant as ever. Less than half-way into the movie Cheryl, my wife, got a phone call that her sister was in the hospital from a car accident. She was going to be alright, but was a bit busted up. Cheryl, of course, was going to go see her immediately. Since I had to take Rachel home, she suggested I just go see her at the hospital tomorrow. Since the hospital was almost two hours away and Brenda's, Cheryl's sister's, house was near there, she decided to stay at her house at least for the night.
We left the theater quickly and zipped home. I went into the house to see about Rachel, while Cheryl jumped into her car and left. When I opened the front door, Rachel was on the couch watching TV and Timmy was in bed. She had moved hastily and suspiciously to hide some kind of magazine and sat up quickly. She was a little flushed and out of breath. I was suspicious, but didn't think too much of it.
"You're home really early," she said, breathing heavily.
"Yeah, Cheryl's sister is in the hospital and she went over to see her. She's going to be gone all night. I guess I'll grab up Timmy and take you home." I glanced at the couch and saw the magazine peeking out from under the pillow. Rachel looked at me with a little fear in her eyes. I knew I caught her doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing. I don't know what made me do it, but I went over to the couch and pulled the magazine out. I heard Rachel groan as I caught a look at the title and picture on the cover... "Teen Dreams"... with a beautiful girl, half-naked, showing her lovely, bald pussy to the camera. It was my magazine. I flushed red in embarrassment.
"I'm sorry, Mr. James..." she started to say.
"Rachel," I interrupted her. "You don't have to apologize." I turned to face her, still with the magazine in hand. I didn't know what to do or what to say. We were both caught red-handed, me owning something like this, obviously turned on by it, obviously masturbating to images of girls her age. And she being caught just looking at it out of curiosity. I remember where I typically hid it, in my dresser, but I didn't know how she found it. "I should apologize to you for even having something like this."
"No... nothing wrong with having it. I guess guys like that kind of stuff." We locked eyes for a moment and I had an overwhelming urge to just kiss her. She looked so innocent and lost, but so sensual.
"Where did you...?"
"It was under the couch," she blurted out quickly, anticipating my question. "I wasn't snooping or anything."
I nodded my head as I remembered that I almost got caught red-handed like she had. Cheryl had come home early from work a few days ago while I was looking at it on the couch. I shoved it under there fully expecting to retrieve it later and put it in its proper hiding place. "I know. That was my fault. I shouldn't have put it there."
I kept the magazine in hand as I moved towards the stairs. "I guess we should grab Timmy and get you home."
"Mr. James?" she asked, hesitantly. "You won't say anything about this will you... you know, to... Mrs. James?"
I laughed. "No. Believe me, she doesn't know *I* have these, let alone you seeing them. She wouldn't be too happy with either of us, but I think I'd be in far more trouble than you."
She seemed very relieved. I guess we kind of shared a mutual bond, both being caught and all.
"Do you... you know... like the pictures in there?" she asked hesitantly.
I wasn't sure I wanted to go down this path, but answered anyways. "Yeah, I do."
"Do you think they're sexy?"
"Yeah. Very." I gulped, feeling my mouth get dry.
"Do you think I'd... you know... look sexy like that?"
She seemed too innocent to be asking such a question. But, I guess it's the insecurity of her age... maybe the images the advertisers throw out there. "I think you look sexy no matter what," I answered.
She smiled, but still seemed like she wanted something. "You know I like you... a lot..." she said, looking me in the eyes. "And I'm glad you think I'm sexy. I was thinking that maybe... you'd..." She seemed to trail off as if not knowing how to ask her question.
"I'd what?" I asked, feeling my mouth get very, very dry all of the sudden.
"If you'd take pictures of me like that. Maybe they'd be just as good as the one's in the magazine."
I stood there, dumbfounded. She wanted me to take nude pictures of her. "I don't think..."
"I want you to. And I... I want you to look at them and think about me like you think of those girls. The girls in the magazines."
She was certainly coming on to me and was certainly persistent. My resistance was fading fast. I gulped as I thought about what I was getting into. "You want me to... to... take nude pictures of you and then play with myself while I look at them?"
She nodded her head, looking a little embarrassed, yet excited.
"Um... ok..." I didn't know why, but I pulled my phone out of my pocket and brought up the camera app.
"Would you pay me... you know... a hundred dollars?"
I thought about it a moment. I spent that just by going to the strip club once. Having naked pictures of her would assure I don't go there for many months to come. In the long run... she'd save me money. I reached into my pocket and pulled out some cash to see how much I had available... and nodded, licking my lips.
She gave me a sexy, sly smile and sat on the edge of the couch. I brought the camera up and began taking pictures as she slowly and surely stripped. Her hands continually caressed her body and she looked directly at the camera a lot as she pulled her shirt up over her breasts, exposing them to me. Her fingers slowly circled her nipples and pinched them, making them very hard. I could tell she was getting very excited doing this. As was I. My cock was at full attention.
Her hands slid all over her body, caressing her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. She looked down as her hands started to move over the material covering her pussy. Her fingers pressed into her clit and circled. I could tell she was really getting into this. It was like she enjoyed being watched, enjoyed being lusted after. After several minutes, she moved her hands to the waistband of her shorts and pushed one underneath. I could tell from the bumps in the material that her fingers returned to teasing her clit, circling it, a finger driving into her moist depths.
She was moaning softly now, her eyes closing every now and then as the pleasure overtook her. With her other hand she pushed the front of her shorts and panties down, freeing her hand and showing her beautiful pussy to me. She lifted her hips off the couch and slid her clothes down her legs and off, tossing them aside. I continued to snap picture after picture, zooming in on her body, loving how it was so open to me after all this time of imagining it.
