Author's Note: As always, feedback and comments are great. I just wrote a story and submitted it yesterday, but I didn't like it so much. So, I wrote this one, hopefully to make myself feel better about my writing. Let me know what you think. Also, feel free to request a story, I'm always looking for inspiration.
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She always wore clothes that to most men would be considered provocative. Falling victim to the fashion trend of leggins instead of pants left nearly nothing to the imagination. Her shapely legs, curvy hips, and that open space between her thighs all there for anyone who wished to view them. If she wasn't in those leggins that hugged her body tightly, the skirts she chose barely covered the smooth curve of her behind. Angela was not the babysitter Mister Kevin Conaway would have chosen to watch his kids, but he could not tell his wife that he found her to be too much of a distraction to keep around.
"The kids love her," she would tell him when he returned home from work, "She came highly recommended," he remembered her saying once.
Angela was just starting college and although she dressed like someone who was promiscuous, she was nothing of the sort. She enjoyed fashion and knew her body was good. She appreciated her youthful features and knew she wore the clothes well. However, the thought never crossed her mind that she might be stirring interest in the fathers of the many children she cared for. To Angela, it was a simply a job, a means to an end, and that end was money to buy more of the expensive clothes she loved so much.
Friday afternoon, Kevin Conaway left work with his wife on his mind. He had a pretty good day and feeling "in the mood" he figured they could turn the tv on for the kids and have a go at it upstairs. But the Los Angeles freeways had another idea in mind for him. Stuck on the freeway in standstill traffic, he found himself next to a car whose driver was a pretty young girl, one that reminded him of Angela. His wife slipped out of his mind and in her place he saw the shapely legs of their barely legal babysitter. Instead of clothed, he imagined her naked, walking around the house to clean up the kids' toys the way she always did before leaving for the night. he tried to be stealth as he reached into his slacks and rubbed his hand over the tip of his dick. He let out a sigh of relief, enjoying this feeling and imagining not his hand, but the much smaller hand of Angela. He felt his cock straining against his pants and heard a car horn honking behind him. He jumped to attention and saw that traffic was finally moving again. He grumbled angrily at the lack of release, but was happy to be on the way home to a woman who could finish the job for him.
Parking the car in the driveway, he grabbed his briefcase from the passenger's seat and held it in front of himself as he walked into the house, hoping to block what was left of his hardon and the wet spot left behind by precum from view. Where he would normally announce his arrival to the family, he wanted to surprise his wife, so instead he quietly entered and listened for where she might be. The sun was setting and he could hear not only the tv on in the family room, but also the water running in the kitchen. He set down the briefcase, removed his blazer, and silently as possible crept through the back door of the kitchen. Much to his surprise (and excitement) it was not his wife whom he found there, but Angela. His mouth began to water as he stood there and watched her bend over to pick up the dishtowel which she had dropped to the floor. The mini-skirt she wore rose up and exposed her white, cotton panties to his hungry eyes.
Kevin felt his dick stir even more in his pants as he listened to her hum, debating whether or not to touch her. He wanted to, boy did he want to. His fingers ached to reach out and feel the smoothness of her skin, and even more to feel the wetness he knew he could produce between her legs. Watching her wash the dishes, he imagined those small hands wrapped around his cock and had to brace himself on the wall. She was probably tighter than anyone he'd ever been with, he just knew it. He licked over his lips, practically drooling at the thought of burying himself deep inside her cunt. Christ, she was gorgeous. Her dirty blonde hair cascaded down her back in loose curls. He imagined tugging on it as she wrapped those full lips of hers around him, her perfectly pink tongue licking him.
He'd worked himself up into such a frenzy of need that he couldn't resist. Hoping that his wife would not be showing up any moment, he made his way across the kitchen with care not to hit any creaky spots on the floor. He wondered if she could feel him behind her, reaching around to touch the flatness of her stomach through her thin camisole.
"What the--" her voice seemed frightened as she turned her head to see him there, "Mister Conaway, you scared me," she said, assuming at that moment he would remove his hand. He must have thought I was Mrs Conaway, she thought to herself.
But he had made no such mistake. "Shhh," he put a finger to her lips and smiled, "Don't make a sound."
Angela sucked in a deep breath when she felt his hand move down from her waist toward her legs. She wanted to protest, but there was a deep, lustful look in his eyes. She blinked a few times and tried to steady her breathing as Mister Conaway's hand brushed against her thigh and slipped between her legs. Despite herself, Angela felt a wetness growing there, dripping out of her and onto the panties she'd chosen for the day in a tortuously slow manner. He seemed urgent, but not quick as he carefully pulled the elastic aside and his finger touched her moist flesh. She heard him let out a deep sigh as she sucked in, scared of what was to come, but also intrigued. She thought about telling him to stop, just as the rough tip of his calloused finger found her clit. She gasped and fell back against him, her light weight body easily caught by his strong arms, "Oh god," she mumbled as he pressed the finger harder against her clit, dragging it down to her dripping hole.
"Mmmm," he hummed in her ear, pulling the hair away from her neck so he could kiss her there as he moved further, taking her lack of argument to mean that she was enjoying herself as much as he was. "Fucking Christ," he mumbled after slipping his finger into her, "You're tighter than I ever could have imagined..." his voice trailed off as he slid a hand down her side and clasped her hand in his, feeling how tiny her own fingers were, "These the only fingers that have ever been in you?" he asked, bringing her hand up to his mouth to kiss her finger tips one at a time.
She shook her head, "No. My last boyfriend...he, um.." her eyes closed as she fought to find the words, "He fingered me a few times." She had to rest her free hand on the counter to hold herself up as he drew his finger out of her and took her juices up to her clit, using them to rub around it in tight little circles.
"Dirty girl," he said with a smirk against the soft skin of her neck, "and what about you? Did you suck his dick? There's no way he put his dick in this tight pussy...did he?"
She shook her head, "No. He asked me if he could, but I...I wasn't ready," she had brought her hand up to his shoulder and clenched the material of his shirt.
Conaway pulled his hand out of her panties and lifted up her skirt in the back so he could get a look at her ass, "This is the most stunning piece of ass I have ever seen," he squeezed each cheek in on of his hands and then smacked it gently.
