Author's Note: If you're looking for a quick fix, this might fit the bill. I've been thinking about doing a babysitter story for a while; this is my attempt.
* * * *
Nathan Holbrook finally pulled out of the parking lot to his real estate office after a long, productive day. He had thought he would be longer but the showings he had scheduled went quicker than anticipated. It had been hard to get back to the grind after his wife had died suddenly in a car accident two years ago. The only silver lining was that their son, 13 months-old at the time, had been home with him at the time of the accident. Now three, Kevin was home with the babysitter.
Although he was lonely and missed the companionship of a woman, Nathan found it almost impossible to think about going back out on the dating scene. Still young at 32, he sometimes found himself fantasizing late at night about having sex with a woman he had seen on the street or had met in the office. Maybe someday he would find someone he could bring into their lives to satisfy his emotional needs and sexual desires along with the desire to have a positive female figure in his son's life - no one could replace Sarah, but perhaps someday he could find someone to at least partially fill the tremendous hole left by the drunk driver who took his wife from him. In the meantime, he sure needed a release.
* * * *
With Kevin asleep, Carrie wandered down the hall to the threshold of Mr. Holbrook's bedroom. She had seen his bedroom only one other time when Mr. Holbrook had given her a tour of the house just a month earlier during her first time babysitting. Mr. Holbrook worked with her dad so when his other babysitter went to college, he asked if she was interested. Always looking for more ways to make money, Carrie had agreed.
The door ajar, she tentatively stepped inside. It was a large, simply furnished, master suite with a single bureau, two night stands framing a four-poster bed, and a love seat at the opposite end of the room. The impeccable details and soft coloring had a woman's touch - Mr. Holbrook's late wife.
Carrie wondered what it would be like to be married to Mr. Holbrook - he was after all very good-looking and successful. There was a picture of his wife on the bureau. Carrie looked in the mirror and couldn't help but measure herself against the woman in the picture. While Mrs. Holbrook was tall and curvaceous, Carrie was petite and had small, b-cup breasts. Mrs. Holbrook had long lustrous, dark hair; Carrie had shoulder-length blonde hair. When Mr. Holbrook looked at her, did he see the daughter he never had or a tight, young teen he fantasized about late at night?
Carrie's curiosity about the man she worked for got the best of her as she walked past the master bathroom to the walk-in closet. As she walked inside, she could detect his scent, which triggered an unexpected reaction from her body, her heart quickening as her cheeks flushed with a mixture of excitement and arousal. One side of the closet was virtually empty - his wife's side - while on the other side hung several suits and sport coats, a tie rack, a large number of dress shirts of different colors, dress pants, and a shoe rack with several pair of different styles and colors.
As she thought about the man who owned the clothes, Carrie felt a stirring between her legs that, although familiar to her, made her blush. A senior in high school who reached her eighteenth birthday just a few months earlier, Carrie was still a virgin. She had allowed her boyfriend to touch her breasts through her bra, and she had touched him through his pants, but her sexual "experience" ended there. Instead, she satiated her urges late at night with her own fingers. What startled her was that two nights ago, as she touched herself and worked her way to a climax, her thoughts settled on Mr. Holbrook. It hadn't been planned, but the image of her employer taking her innocence sent her over the edge in record time.
She looked at her watch. Not expecting him for another hour or so, she continued her exploration, peeking into drawers while looking for nothing in particular. Taking one of his t-shirts in her hands, the cotton soft to the touch, Carrie brought it up to her nose and inhaled deeply. His scent was intoxicating, and filled her mind with naughty thoughts that sent a shiver down her spine, her virgin pussy tingling in response. She couldn't wait until she got home; she had to come here and now in his bedroom, surrounded by everything he owned. Did she want to be owned by him, she wondered.
* * * *
Nathan entered the house and quickly noticed the stillness in the air - no television; no crying three year-old; no teenager on the telephone. She must be upstairs putting Kevin to bed, he thought. He decided to not call out her name just in case Kevin was already asleep. Making it to the top of the stairs, he heard a noise that surprised him - a soft moan coming from down the hall.
Nathan walked to his son's bedroom and peeked in - sound asleep. He closed the door and continued softly down to the end of the hall, his ears attuned to the soft, muffled sounds coming from his bedroom. As he drew closer, the source of the sounds became quite obvious. His heart-rate quickened and a tingling sensation passed through his body as he heard the soft moans of pleasure coming from the mouth of his babysitter, Carrie.
Standing to the side of his bedroom's doorway, his mouth felt like cotton as he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Carrie was on his bed, her skirt bunched at her hips as her fingers caressed her still panty-covered pussy. Nathan's cock grew rapidly in is pants to the point where it ached. But what blew him away was when Carrie brought one of his t-shirts to her nose and inhaled deeply as she lightly caressed her sex.
"Fuck me," he mouthed, his hand unconsciously adjusting himself to relieve the ache in his pants.
Every guy had a list of fantasies: the pinup girl with the hourglass figure (that was Sarah, his late wife); the secretary with her glasses and tight skirt; and near the top of the list was the babysitter - barely legal, petite, blonde, and innocent. Carrie fit the bill to perfection.
Carrie slipped a hand underneath her pink panties, her soft, girlish moans echoing in Nathan's ears. "Please," she said barely above a whisper, her eyes shut, her fingers busy, "please, Mr. Holbrook, fuck me."
Carrie moaned again as Nathan's mind raced. She was so close to breaking him and she didn't even know it.
"I'll be naughty for you...if you teach me."
Nathan hadn't had sex in two years, and here was a tight, young teen on his bed touching herself and fantasizing about him. What was he supposed to do?
He waited a few moments before opening the door all the way, allowing it to lightly hit against the wall. Startled by the sound, Carrie sat up and quickly pushed her skirt down.
"Mr. Holbrook," she panted, her pale, white skin flushed in embarrassment, "I...I'm sorry I'm in your bedroom...it's just..."
