Babysitters Infatuation

When Jenny rang me and asked me if I could sit for them because she and Van were going out for dinner and a show I couldn't believe my luck. I said yes like a shot, promising to be there early so that I could distract the kids while they got ready.

Jenny was nice and the kids are sweet, but Van is a real honey. I'm absolutely mad about him. He is totally, and I mean totally, perfect. I get warm just thinking about him and when he actually talks to be I get these little shivers running up and down my spine. He gave me a kiss on the cheek last time I was there as a thank you and I'll swear I was wet as I went home.

Van is tall and blonde and clever. He's really handsome, strong and fit. He's got what they call charisma, and his voice is like a rich dark honey. I could sit and listen to him talk for hours and not get bored.

I watch Van all the time when I'm sitting for him and Jenny. Oh, I'm not obvious about, God forbid, but I am always aware of where he is and what he's doing. I don't think he's noticed but if he has he's far too nice to say anything about it. He probably thinks I'm still just a kid.

I fronted up nice and early and took charge of the kids while Jenny and Van got ready. Then it was kisses all around and promises from the kids that they'd be good for Michelle, then Jenny and Van headed off for their night out.

The kids were as good as kids usually are. Little angels until they're crossed, and then look out. I kept on top of them, eventually getting them fed, bathed and into bed without too much bother. There were a couple of attempts to get out of bed again, but I squashed those without any trouble. It wasn't as though the little imps really expected to get away with it.

One nice thing about sitting for Jenny is that I have permission to use their computer and internet connection, and they've got a high speed connection. Far better than the one I've got at home. After the kids went down I was able to hop on and get onto Twitter and Facebook and chat with some friends.

It was nearly midnight when Jenny and Van arrived home. As soon as they strolled through the door I could see that they were happy. By happy I am referring to their state of inebriation as well as their general attitude. Not drunk, mind you. Not even tipsy. But they appeared to have taken on enough to be thoroughly relaxed.

Van winked at me and my heart gave a little jump and I smiled at him. Jenny gave a funny little laugh.

"Go on, Van," she said. "I dare you. It'll be fun."

"Underage, though," he murmured.

Jenny shook her head. "Eighteen," she said. "Just ask her."

They were both looking at me and it dawned on me that Van was wondering about my age.

"I'm eighteen," I assured him. "Have been for months. Why?"

"Just wanted to be sure," he said.

Van had settled down on the couch when he came in, and for some reason Jenny had taken one of the armchairs. I was still seated at the computer. While I watched Van gave Jenny a look, smiled and shrugged, and turned towards me.

"Come here for a moment, Michelle," he said, and that voice of his had me floating up out of my chair and moving towards him without me even having to think about it.

"Right," he said. "Now would you be so kind as to lift up the front of your dress?"

Gawd, I got wet just thinking of doing that, but what the hell? I looked over at Jenny to find her smiling and nodding her head in agreement. It was still a case of what the hell, but if Jenny didn't mind. . .

I reached down and lifted the hem of my skirt, showing off my legs, feeling squirmy inside and just a little embarrassed.

Van just shook his head.

"Not like that," he said. "Higher."

If I went any higher I'd be flashing my panties at him. I hesitated, thought 'why not' and hitched my dress higher.

Van seemed to consider me, looked and nodded to Jenny and then turned his attention back to me. He calmly reached out, took hold of my panties and lowered them. Not just a littler way. He took them right down to my ankles and then tapped my ankles to indicate I should step out of them.

I stepped out of them but I also let my dress fall back into place. Van promptly reminded me that I was supposed to be holding it up.

"But if I do that you'll see my, ah, my. . ." My voiced faltered out.

"That's OK, Michelle," said Jenny. "Go ahead and lift it."

I went ahead and lifted it again, blushing while I did so.

As soon as my dress was out of the road Van reached over and ran his hand gently over my mons, travelling down and between my legs to cup my mound and give it a soft squeeze.

Now I wasn't just slightly squirmy inside. I was feeling hot and wet. Van, my Van, was touching me intimately. I had another quick look at Jenny. She was smiling and seemed quite pleased and I couldn't understand it.

What I could understand was that I was standing there with no knickers and that Van had his hand resting on my vulva.

"Ah, what's going on?" I asked.

"Well, Michelle, we've noticed how you always watch Van, and I was curious to see how far you'd actually let him go. We're experimenting."

"I'm going to help you take off the rest of your clothes," said Van, "and we'll see how things progress after that."

I'm sort of like, "What? What?" I mean, how far did he intend to go? Take off my clothes? What would happen after that?

The dress that I was wearing was a simple slip on. While I'd been standing there wondering what was going on Van had been lifting it up. When I felt the tug at my arms I'd just naturally raised them while stewing over what Van and Jenny had said. So it was that I found myself standing there clad in a bra. There was no way I was going to turn around to let Van undo it, but I found out I didn't have to. Jenny got out of her chair and came up behind me and unclipped it. She went back to her seat and Van slipped the bra down my arms and off.

Well, it was obvious that I wouldn't be able to let things progress much further than this, but would it really hurt to let Van possibly kiss me? Even let him touch me a bit more. I shivered a little at the thought and just stood still.

It was a case of, oh my god, he did kiss me. What shook me was that he didn't kiss my mouth, he kissed my breasts. My nipples, of all things, and then his mouth just went grazing across my breasts, covering them with little butterfly kisses, stopping every so often to nibble on a nipple. Nibble on a nipple! That sounds so weird, but it felt wonderful. I just let it go on for a bit longer.

His mouth moved up over my breast and I found myself tilting my head to the side as his hot breath trailed across my throat. His mouth was hot on mine and his hands were now continuing the teasing of my breasts. I was standing there, not moving, apart from where my hands were clutching at his shoulders.

His mouth trailed down again, taking over the torment to my nipples while his hand slid further down my body. I almost shrieked when his hand closed over my pussy again, this time starting to rub back and forth along it, massaging it. I was going weak at the knees and I was sure I was just going to collapse onto the carpet in a liquid heap.

I suppose the thing that stopped me collapsing was finding that I was leaning back against the arm of the couch. I hadn't even noticed that I'd been turned around until it was behind me. It was I felt, almost time to call it quits. You could have too much of a good thing.

I suppose it was a little naïve of me not to realise that, if one hand was manipulating my pussy and his mouth was tasting my breasts, he was left with a free hand and it would also be doing naughty things. It just wasn't doing them to me, which was I overlooked it.

The moment when I found out what his other hand was doing was when the hand on my pussy spread its fingers wide, spreading my lips at the same time. His free hand then guided his erection, which it had just set free, in between my parted lips and into me. I suddenly found myself with a cock making its way into me, and it was a bit bloody late to say, so far and no further.

Van just eased himself into me. While a tight fit, his cock seemed to have no trouble making its way down my passage. There had been a sting and a slight hesitation when he broke past my hymen, but the sting wasn't bad enough for me to cry halt, and the hesitation wasn't long enough to give him time to change his mind. He just continued sliding smoothly into me.

Just like that I was an ex-virgin, having an affair with another woman's husband. Although I'm not sure if you can really call it an affair if she's watching him take your virginity. I had enough self-control (barely) to be able to toss Jenny a glance and she was watching and smirking.

Seeing as how I'd been too stupid to realise how deep in I was getting I decided that since I was committed I'd better make sure I was totally committed. In for a penny, in for a pound, sort of deal. I knew vaguely how I was supposed to respond, so I waited until Van started to pull out.

Initially he just held himself still, cock buried deep inside me, almost as though he couldn't believe that I'd let him go that far. He should be surprised. I was downright shocked myself. After a few moments he started to pull slowly back and I tensed, knowing what was about to happen. Well, I sort of knew, but still being in the process of becoming an ex-virgin I didn't really know, if you get my meaning.

Van pulled back and seemed to just keep on pulling back. I thought for a moment that this was all he was going to do, but I guess it was just a case that he was moving so slowly that it just seemed as though he was pulling so far out. Once he'd pulled far enough back he stopped and reversed direction. That was what I'd been waiting for.

As Van came into me I pushed up against him, helping him slide deep. I moved slowly but firmly, as that was what he seemed to be doing. The feel of his clock sliding down my passage was wonderful. I wanted to shriek with the feeling but managed to restrict myself to a gasp. I thought that neither Van nor Jenny would appreciate me yelling my head off every time he drove into me.

After that the whole thing started repeating itself. Van would slowly pull back, pause, then drive into me with that firm and steady stroke while I pushed up in the same manner.

Now the education I'd received regarding matters sexual seemed to indicate that the man might start of slowly but he would get faster and faster as he got warmed up. If that's true that I wasn't warming Van up, because he kept going at the same steady pace.

Not that I was complaining, or not initially, because when I say he kept going I meant he really kept on going, showing no signs of stopping any time soon. He'd just drive in, rousing all sorts of weird and wonderful feelings, then pull out and drive back in, with even more weird and wonderful, etc..

I was matching his pace, which was easy to do, but I wanted him to go faster. Eventually I urged him to go faster, to go harder, to damn well fuck me properly, blast you, but he just smiled down at me and kept on with that same soul destroying languid pace.

I was going to have an orgasm, I just knew it. I also knew that I'd climax and have that orgasm a lot sooner if Van would just put a bit more effort into the job. I coaxed and pleaded and commanded him to speed up, and he went on and on and on at that same slow pace that was driving me mad.

How long did he go on for? I had no idea, but at the time it seemed like hours, and for a lot of those hours I seemed to be hovering on the brink of the most enormous climax.

I have never been so relieved as when I heard Van say, "Time to finish this."

I was waiting expectantly, anticipating that subtle change that would lift me up and over the edge. The subtle change came, all right, but something was wrong. Instead of being picked up and thrown willy-nilly into a marvellous climax I was going off the boil. To my horror I found my desire, my lust, my anticipation, all dying away, leaving me with pleasant feelings as Van continued to take me, but where the hell had the passion gone.

I was almost crying in disappointment when Van gave me the most evil smirk. At the same time there was another change to what he was doing. He was moving faster and I was bouncing under him, playing at catch-up. Now all that passion and lust were surging back, shrieking for attention. I was gasping and making funny noises. I know I was because I could hear myself and I wasn't saying anything that made sense.

Van was hitting me harder and faster, really driving into me now, and I was lost. I finally let loose my scream as Van pushed me over the edge to my climax, hearing him grunt and feeling him come deep inside me.

I sank back against the couch, not interested in anything more at that moment. I was vaguely aware of him disengaging, but that was all. When I did start to collect myself I kept my eyes closed while I figured out what the hell had just happened and what was I going to do about it. I could hear Jenny talking.

"I was surprised. I thought she'd back off as soon as you took her panties down. I really never thought that she'd let you go all the way."

That was a case of Snap, Jenny. I never thought that I'd let him go all the way, either. I'm not even sure that I did let him. It was more of a case of me forgetting to stop him in time.

"Why don't we have her come back to sit for us tomorrow and you can try something different? How do you think she'll react if you just bend her forward over the table, pull down her panties and take her roughly? Will she go along with it or will she protest?"

"Only one way to find out," Van said, "and that's to try it and see what happens."

They could always ask me how I'd react. For that matter, how would I react, I wondered? I suppose the only way to find out for sure would be to accept the invitation to baby-sit. I made a sound, showing that I was coming to, and Jenny and Van fell silent.

The big question was how was I supposed to react right now. I would try to go with blasé, I decided, as though getting jumped by a husband happened on a regular basis. Mind you, having been a virgin indicated that it didn't, but I'd ignore that.