Babysitter Is Depressed

Since I lost my wife in the accident I hadn't bothered to go out much. But life goes on, and what hurt badly at one stage is now a warm memory of a lost love. Accordingly, when I was invited out to an engagement party I decided to go. The only trouble was what to do with the kids.

I dug out my wife's old phone and dug through it, trying to remember the babysitter's name. Finally I got onto Brenda, and yes, she still did babysitting and would be happy to oblige.

Saturday evening Brenda showed up and I reintroduced her to the kids. They all seemed to get on well enough, so I went and got ready. The one thing I had noticed, though, was that Brenda seemed to have changed. She used to be a very happy sort of person, always bubbling over with high spirits. Now she actually seemed a little depressed. Still, it didn't seem to impact the way she handled the kids.

I headed off to the engagement party and quite enjoyed myself. It was a relief to be out and just relaxing with other adults, not having to worry about where the kids were and what they were up to. I decided it was time my social life started expanding again.

I arrived home around midnight. I found Brenda sitting on the couch watching TV and not looking too happy about it. Certainly not the Brenda I remembered. I made some coffee and brought it in for her and we sat there drinking it. I started feeling her out a little to see what the problem was. We chatted for a short while and then I raised the subject.

"If you'll pardon me for saying so, Brenda, you seem a bit down. Have you got a problem?"

"No. I'll be fine," she said, shaking her head. "Just an argument with my boyfriend."

"If you say so. I can lend a sympathetic ear if you need someone to talk to. I may not be able to help, but having someone listen sometimes helps."

If she didn't want to talk, she didn't and I wasn't going to force her. We finished the coffee and Brenda was making noises about going home, and then she suddenly blurted it out.

"Tell me, Mr Sanders, are all boys sex mad?"

I blinked at the sudden question but gave it consideration.

"I think I'd have to answer that with a yes," I told her. "Some hide it better than others, that's all. I take it your boyfriend is not even trying to hide it."

She glared, but I had a feeling that the glare wasn't directed at me. I just happened to be sitting in front of it.

"Joe says I should sleep with him and if I won't he'll find someone else. I just don't think it's fair that he should demand it like that. I'm not ready."

"Point out to him that you're under age," I said helpfully.

Well done me. I'd forgotten how long it was since I'd seen her.

"I'm eighteen," she said coldly, and this time the glare was for me. "I've been eighteen for ages."

"How time flies," I said, smiling. "Ah, how long is ages?"

"In this case, a couple of months," said Brenda with a small sigh. "Joe says that's plenty of time to make up my mind, but I just can't."

"I think you'll find that you have," I observed, "and your decision was no. I'd say Joe isn't who you want your first time to be with."

"But I love him," she half wailed. "Why would I say no?"

"Are you scared of the idea of having sex with him?"

"No," she said with great indignation. "Maybe," she added. "I don't know. It's just that everything starts to seem icky when he tries, and I just back right away."

So maybe her beloved Joe was lacking a little finesse in the way he approached the subject. Alternatively, maybe she just didn't like the idea of having sex.

"Maybe it's the way he's approaching the subject," I suggested. "Would you like to try a little experiment?"

"What sort of experiment?" she asked, and I could hear nerves already starting to twang.

"Very simple. I'm going to just hold your breast for a moment. Instead of slapping my hand and then my face, just let my hand rest there and consider how it feels."

With that I casually reached out and cupped one breast, just holding it firmly, not squeezing or rubbing.

Brenda blushed and went still, looking at my hand.

"Now think about it. Does it feel pleasant or does it feel wrong?"

She continued staring at my hand for a moment, seeming to be trying to assess its touch.

"It just feels . . . different," she said. "Um, I guess it's quite nice."

"Uh-huh. And if I rub it slightly?" I asked, suiting action to words.

I just gave her breast a gentle massage, letting her feel my hand crushing lightly over her.

"It feels very nice from this side, I assure you," I said softly. "Not feeling icky?"

She shook her head, and I let my hand drift over to the other breast, but squeezing slightly this time, instead of rubbing.

"You have very nice breasts. Is this how Joe tries to touch you?"

"No. I wouldn't mind so much if it was, but he keeps on trying to grope inside my top and under my bra."

I let my hand drift back and forth across her breasts, lightly stimulating them. Brenda didn't seem to mind, apparently taking note of what I was doing and how it felt.

"Has Joe ever asked you to take off your top and let him see your breasts?"

"Not asked, as such," grumbled Brenda, "but he certainly tries to get my top off. I'm always slapping his hands away."

"Would it make a difference if you were asked? Let's try it. Lift your arms and I'll take your top of with your permission."

She dithered a little, but I didn't try to anticipate her decision. I just continued stroking her breast, lightly touching each nipple. Brenda gave a little sigh and then lifted her arms. I pulled her top loose from her skirt and lifted it up and off. Now I was tracing the outlines of her bra, fingers tracing her cleavage and rubbing lightly against her soft flesh. She didn't even notice when I unclipped her bra, although she did jump a little when it came loose.

I left the bra strictly alone. It was undone and that let me touch her breasts more fully, while Brenda could still tell herself that she was covered. It wasn't until a finger dipped into one cup and flicked an erect little nipple that she did anything, and that was to hunch her shoulders slightly so that the bra slid down her arms.

With those two lovely breasts exposed like that it would have been the height of impoliteness not to have paid homage to them. I leaned over and took first one and then the other into my mouth, suckling them lightly and teasing the nipples with my tongue and teeth.

Reluctantly I straightened up and let Brenda's breasts alone. She was sitting staring at them, slightly swollen with wet pink tips. Her breath was coming a little faster and she was looking slightly flushed.

"OK," I said, trying to sound unconcerned. "Experiment over for now. Not feeling 'icky' I think was the word you used?"

Brenda looked at me, slightly startled. Then she remembered that it was supposed to be an experiment. She took a deep breath which did interesting things to her breasts.

"No," she managed to say. "Not icky. Um, quite nice really. I liked it."

"OK. We can leave it at that. Mmm. We could continue a little bit further if you like?"

"Umm, what would be involved in going a bit further?" Brenda wanted to know, sounding nervously hopeful."

"Oh, just a bit of stroking and touching. Nothing that I think would upset you, and you can always say enough if you think I'm going too far."

A finger on the inside of her knee eased Brenda's legs slightly further apart and then my hand trailed along her inner thigh, softly tantalizing. My hand slipped under her skirt, teasing her. I could feel tension rising in her as my hand drew closer to her mound, and I could sense the feeling of frustration when I stopped at the last second and reversed my stroke.

Brenda had been all ready to warn me off when I touched her panties, and now the warning was just left hanging there, unused. I continued the same slow tantalizing creep, my hand brushing up one leg and down the other, while Brenda squirmed slightly, wanting that last inch to be covered.

My free hand was back at work, idly playing with her nipples and, while Brenda knew this, her concentration was on the hand threatening her pussy. When my knuckles did finally brush against her mound it was with a touch so light that I could see her wondering if she'd imagined it. It certainly wasn't any reason to make an objection.

A couple more very light brushes followed, and then a touch that wasn't so light, my hand running across her panties when changing from one leg to the other. She gave a little gasp, but seemed to know that protesting now would make her look slightly silly, after those other brushes hadn't been mentioned.

Now that the touch had been established I followed up my advantage, running my hand up over her panties and along her tummy, just above the panties. From there a couple of fingers would slip beneath her panty waist, brushing her mound.

When I slipped both hands under her skirt and took hold of her panties on either side Brenda just sat staring at me wide-eyed. Then she gave a little hitch, lifting herself up slightly, and I slid her panties down and off.

After that things progressed a little more rapidly. I was playing a lot more firmly with her mound, stroking and massaging, with the occasional finger slipping between her lips and into her. Brenda was hot and starting to get wet, and it was time for the next step.

I casually undid the catch at the side of Brenda's skirt and urged her to stand for a moment, letting the skirt drop away, leaving her naked and flushed. I let her see my blatant appreciation of her nudity before guiding her back down onto the couch.

Hands off, I let her review her progress.

"Still feeling fine?" I murmured softly, and she nodded, not wanting to say it out loud.

"It seems to me that if Joe is like most teenage boys, he's probably not backward in whipping out his erection for you to admire. Probably every chance he gets," I said, laughing quietly as I spoke.

From the disgust on her face I could see I was right.

"How do you feel when he does that?"

"I don't know. It just seems so gross when he does," she said with a little shudder. "You're not going to do that are you?"

"No," I demurred, shaking my head. "I thought I'd leave that to you."

Her eyes went wide and she looked slightly shocked.

"What do you mean?" she demanded.

"I mean that if you want to, you can unzip my trousers and explore a little. See what a man's like. Touch me, feel me, bring my cock out where you can see it and see what it's really like. But if you don't want to, don't."

This seemed to be a new and intriguing idea to Brenda. It was going to be her choice if she touched a cock. Not the man's. Not that she was going to do it, I could practically see her thinking, but still. We just sat for a few moments, neither moving, and then Brenda took a determined breath, doing interesting things to those lovely breasts again.

Reaching out she slid down my zip. She was lucky my erection didn't just leap out screaming. That's the way it felt. I'd already adjusted my undies so that it was free of them, and that zip was all that was really holding it back.

Breathing hard she slipped her hand into my trousers and touched me. By a coincidence, my hand drifted along her leg and touched her pussy at exactly the same time. She hesitantly moved her hand over me, with me matching the movement on her pussy. Then she closed her hand firmly around me and drew my erection out of my trousers. And promptly snatched her hand away.

She sat looking at it for a moment, apparently not noticing my hand casually stroking her pussy, keeping it nicely warmed up. She poked it and giggled when it swayed from side to side.

"It's big," she muttered.

"Just average, I think you'll find," I said modestly.

Her hand finally wandered back and reclaimed her prize. She squeezed it and ran her hand up and down the length of it.

"It's rather hard, isn't it? And it feels hot. Why's it hard and hot?"

"Didn't you do Sex ED. at school?" I asked dryly and she blushed.

"But I thought it only went hard when you were going to have sex," she said.

Right on!

"Not so. It goes hard when a man feels like having sex. It can happen anytime, anywhere. That's why we wear trousers. It stops us waving hullo to every pretty woman we see."

She giggled, while her fingers continued to torment my little friend.

"Well, I guess I knew that, but why's it hard now. There's only you and me here and it's not as though we're going to have sex. . ."

Her voice trailed off and she looked distinctly nervous all of a sudden. It seemed it was only just dawning on her that she was sitting there naked, holding a man's erection.

"You may know that, and I may know that, but all an erection knows is that it wants sex. It knows you're there and it's hopeful."

"With me?" she asked, surprised. "But. . ."

"Don't worry," I soothed her. "I'm not going to force you."

She looked relieved and then got all nervous again when I continued.

"However, since we've gone this far, I'm going to lay you back down onto the couch, ease your legs further apart, and let my cock have its wicked way. If you decide you don't want to, you will need to be very firm about saying so."

"But I'm a virgin, remember?" she hissed at me as I eased her down onto the couch.

"Mmm. Yes, I know," I agreed, sliding one leg right off the couch and bending the other up and to the side.

"I never said I wanted sex with you," she pointed out, as I stroked my cock back and forth along her labia, letting her feel its intimate touch.

"You're not really going to do it, are you?" she asked as I parted her lips and pressed the head of my cock between them pressing in gently.

I pressed a little hard by way of answer, letting her see, and feel, my cock sinking in.

"What if I say no?"

"Then I'll stop, but if you don't say it pretty soon it will be far too late. I'll make it easy for you. Do you want me to go on?"

She stared at me. I don't think she knew what she wanted. She seemed reluctant to say yes or no. I raised an eyebrow, smiling.

"Oh damn you," she snapped. "Do it."

For a moment I considered making her ask nicely. But only for a moment. What if she changed her mind? It didn't bear thinking about. I pushed triumphantly home.

That is not to say I just drove straight in. I was well aware that she was virginal. I eased my way past her hymen, passing through with only a slight wince of pain from Brenda, quickly forgotten as the reality of my erection taking possession sank in.

I could almost see her mind at work as she cocked her head slightly, contemplating what was happening, trying to make sense of it. The feelings raised by my cock rubbing against her passage were all new, and making a mess of her logical train of thought.

When our loins finally came together with a small slapping sound she gave up on logic and just went with the feeling. I started moving in her, sliding gently back and forth while she just lay there, absorbing everything, not yet reacting.

"Time to start moving with me," I said softly, pushing in a little faster.

Brenda looked a little startled at that. She had been considering herself as someone who was being made love to, not as someone who was making love. She moved to meet my next thrust, only tentatively, as the switch from servile to participant seemed to shock her slightly. As I continued to move on her, Brenda's responses became firmer, surer. She found that she could handle this. She instinctively knew what she was doing and she did it with style.

Initiating a willing virgin is a fine job, if you can get it. It's unfortunate that you can only do it once. (Per person, that is.) Now that Brenda was moving in unison with me I started to slowly build on what we'd started. I drove into her firmly, enjoying her response and stoking her banked fires, heating her up a little more with every push.

I didn't try to slow down her enjoyment, or drag out the whole process, the way I might with someone more experienced. For her first time Brenda deserved to just have everything flow naturally, building her up until she was ready to finish.

I took her hard and high, driving in a little faster, slowly increasing the speed of our rhythm. Brenda was literally bouncing under me. Her legs had curled around me and she was clinging to me, while she gasped and made sounds generally indicative of approval of the whole process.

False modesty aside, I did a damn fine job on her, driving her towards a climax for her first time. By the time I was ready I knew she was, positively squealing her enthusiasm and excitement. I drove in hard for my climax, gasping with the effort, pleased as punch when I pushed her over the edge at the same time I let rip.

Relaxing afterwards I decided that my resolve to increase my social activities was very much the correct thing. It could lead to some interesting benefits.

I was sitting next to the couch, idly stroking one of Brenda's breasts when she finally got herself together. She looked at her clothes scattered on the floor and then gave me a glare. Rather like the glare that a kitten would give a full grown dog. Determined, but trying to hide a bit of nervousness.

"Did you deliberately set out to do that with your experiment?" she demanded.

"Actually, no," I said, half-truthfully. "I really wanted to just get you to relax a little and start to come to terms with your body. We both got a little carried away and things went further than I expected. Not that I'm apologising or regretting it in any way. I think you were wonderful."

"Oh."

She seemed slightly mollified and relieved. To be deliberately seduced by an evil minded man was one thing. To be inadvertently seduced because we both got carried away was so much better.

"Don't let it worry you," I said soothingly. "It's all perfectly natural. By the morning you'll find that nothing has changed. You're still you, but just a little more experienced."

She seemed a trifle dubious, despite my reassurances, but I let it go at that. There was one more thing, though.

"You're looking tired and it's time you were in bed. Ah, your bed's a fair way off and you'd have to drive to reach it. Mine's just through here. A lot easier to reach."

I held out my hand to her, smiling.