Jennifer breathed a sigh of relief as she walked down the stairs. Both toddlers asleep, although the older one had needed two stories this time. She re-entered the lounge and poured herself a drink. Well, the Marshalls had told her she could help herself, hadn't they? And they always offered her a drink while they told her about their night out and waited for the taxi to take her home.
She hadn't known what to expect when her mother had asked if she was interested in earning some money by babysitting for one of her colleagues. She had baby-sat for neighbours before, usually with their older kids, eight and nine year olds, but this was the first time with actual babies. And the fact that the parents were strangers to her seemed a bit forbidding. The Marshalls also lived on the far side of town, so she would be truly on her own -- with neighbours, it had been reassuring to know that help in the form of mum was only five minutes away. So, the first time she met them, she was really nervous.
They had turned out to be a rather laidback couple in their mid/late-thirties with a good sense of humour and a wealth of stories about their own time at University, some of which would certainly have shocked her mother. They had talked with her, sounding her out to see if she knew what she was doing, and introduced her to their two kids, Matt aged four and Helen, who was almost two. She liked them on meeting and told them about her upcoming exams and her hopes to move onto University later in the year. It was really pleasing that they treated her as an adult, rather than condescended to her like a little kid, the way some of mum's church friends did. She had returned the next night to do the actual baby-sitting, and the kids took to her, doing as she told them, and behaving well. She had baby-sat for them half a dozen times now over the last three months, with a break over her exam period.
This was the first time she had baby-sat for them since the exams, and the money would be really welcome. The post-exam parties and nights out had rapidly run through the little money she had saved. Mrs Marshall had picked her up from mum's, driving her over to their house to have dinner with the kids whiles he and Mr Marshall got ready to head out. Mrs Marshall had greeted her with her usual hug, and plied her with questions about the exams, the parties, and where she thought she might be going to University. On arrival, Mr Marshall also gave her a hug, saying he was sure she had done well in the exams, which surprised her a bit. Then the kids took over, clamouring for her attention, and she was kept busy while the Marshalls left for their date night.
She checked the baby monitor was on, then sat down, took a pull on her drink and breathed in. It was 9 pm and the Marshalls wouldn't be back until after midnight. She took out her phone, contemplating it for a moment, then texted "All clear. Still want to?". She looked at the text, biting her lip and making that final decision, then hit send.
The response was immediate "On my way".
She wondered for a second if she was doing the right thing. She had only met Dave two weeks ago and had only seen him four times, including the pub gig where she had met him. Was it too soon to go all the way with him? A couple of her friends would have had him first night, but she was always the shy, reticent one, virtually the last in her year to let go of her virginity. Her previous two boyfriends, Mike and Steve, had not exactly been sparkling successes, and she knew she had gone with them as much through peer pressure, the reluctance to arrive at University in a few months' time, still a virgin.
She had slept with Mike three times, all of them rushed encounters at parties. Her first time had been incredibly quick, Mike having cum after less than a dozen strokes, leaving her excited and extremely frustrated, and the next two occasions were not really much better. She had tried again, an entirely forgettable drunken one-nighter with Mike's friend Steve, who had even less interest in satisfying her than Mike had. The only orgasms Jennifer had had from any of these encounters were after she had gone home, fingering herself in her own bed.
The fact that she had had no great desire to continue the relationships spoke for itself. And truth be told, they hadn't seemed interested in prolonging the affairs either, now that they had boasted to their friends that they had fucked her. Being honest with herself, she was aware that she had to some extent used them as much as he had used her, and for the same reasons: to validate themselves with their peers, and, at least in her case, her much anticipated new friends at University. At least their boasting had stopped some of the less-kind girls in her class calling her frigid, although she would die if any word of what she had been doing reached her rather prim mother.
But Dave seemed different. Not another teenager, he was twenty years old, two years older than her, just returned home after his second year at University. He was much more sophisticated, at least to her eyes, than her former schoolmates. Maybe he would be the one to show her what it was all about, that it really was about mutual pleasure, rather than some furtive fumbling and bumping on someone's carpet at a party.
The fact that he was a genuine University student, that he had been to a different local school so didn't know her or her friends was another plus in her eyes. Their snogging and touching at the cinema, and on the short-cut through the park after a visit to the pub had only served to show his superiority over her former classmates. The downside was the lack of anywhere to be alone so far. But he lived just two streets away from the Marshalls, and, when her mother had relayed her colleague's request that Jennifer babysit again, the plan had formed in her mind. Once the kids were asleep, they should have 2 -3 hours on their own.
Of course, she did feel a slight twinge of unease about whether it was right to invite someone she barely knew into someone else's house. She realised she had drained her gin and tonic and poured herself another to calm her nerves while she waited. The Marshall's had said to help herself, and they were a generous couple. She felt she needed the drink. This was the first time she had acted so boldly, the first time she had specifically invited someone to meet for the sole purpose of having sex. With last minute cold feet, she wondered if she should text again, saying it was all off, but she knew she wanted this. Another sip of her drink, and she burrowed in her handbag, fishing out the condoms she had bought that afternoon and opened the packet. She laid two of them on the little table beside her glass and felt her face flush at being so brazen.
The doorbell rang and she caught her breath. This was it. She knocked back the rest of her gin for Dutch courage and walked to the door, trying to be cool and casual, as if this was no big deal, while her heart was thumping hard in her chest. She opened the door and ushered him in, a quick glance out to make sure no-one was watching. She grabbed his hand and led him into the lounge, then turned towards him, putting her arms round him and whispered 'Hi.'
She felt his lips on hers, his urgent tongue already pushing at her and she opened her lips, their tongues touching. She felt his hand slide over her t-shirt onto her breast. Shit, she thought, I meant to take the bra off before he arrived. But his other hand was already sliding under the t-shirt, gliding round to her back, fumbling with the strap. She felt a tightness as he worked the clasp, then relief as it fell away. Both hands were under it now, warm against her skin, cupping. squeezing her breasts.
She broke the kiss, both startled and aroused by his direct approach. She welcomed the kiss, but had expected to have a drink with him, chat and flirt, snuggle up on the couch and then move on from there. But his sense of urgency had infected her, and she too was impatient now. She pulled him over to the sofa and they both fell onto the warm black leather. He raised her t-shirt right up above her breasts and she wriggled for a moment, letting the now redundant bra fall to the floor at her feet. Her hand went to the back of his head, and she pushed him down, rewarded by the touch of his lips on her erect nipple. She arched her back, pressing her breast hard against his mouth and moaned softly in pleasure and anticipation. She felt his hand catch hers, pulling it to his groin, and the bulge in his jeans.
She squeezed the bulge, marvelling at how hard he was already, and then started to fumble with his belt. Impatient, he undone his button and zip, the sudden feel of warm flesh against her fingers showing he had gone commando. She gripped him and made a soft stroking motion with her hand, drawing a groan from him, the first sound he had made since crossing the threshold. He felt hard and damp with swat, and as she glanced down she saw the purple head pushing out of the foreskin, a thin film of precum reflecting the low light from the table lamp. He pulled away from her breast and stood, pushing his jeans down to his ankles and whispered 'Lick it baby... I love that....'
Disappointed he hadn't paid more attention to her breasts, she shifted in her seat, looking up at his face as she gripped the base of his cock and, leaning forward, ran her tongue round the crown. She drew back, licking her lips, trying to swallow to bring some saliva into her dry mouth then glanced up at his eyes once more, before dropping her head and letting her lips slide over the head, down onto his shaft. She held him there for a few seconds, pressing her tongue up against the underside of his cock, before beginning a slow up and down movement, pulling back till her lips felt the ridge of the head, then down again, striving to reach that little bit further each time, to take more of him into her mouth. In the corner of her eye she saw the lipstick mark she had left on her glass, and wondered if there was enough left to leave a mark on him to show just how far down his shaft she had been able to go.
She felt him against the back of her throat and pushed just a little bit harder, triggering her gag reflex, Fighting it, she held him there until the spasm ceased and then drew in her cheeks, sucking on him now she knew she could not take him any deeper. Then, all of a sudden, he grunted, and her mouth and throat filled with warm liquid and she realised he had cum without warning her. Coughing and spluttering, she drew her head back, feeling another gush of fluid hit the inside of her cheek. She tried to close her mouth and swallow, but there was so much of it she couldn't cope with all of it, and some escaped from the side of her mouth, running down her chin and dripping onto her rolled up tshirt and her exposed breasts.
She sat back, surprised by how quickly he had cum. She hadn't meant to make him cum, just tease a little before laying back and opening herself for him. Now she worried that he might not be able to do that as she felt him soften in her hand.
'Wow,' she said, 'I wasn't expecting that. Did I do it OK?'
He stared at her, still breathless and could only nod 'Fantastic..'
She looked up at him hoping he would take the initiative but as he still looked dazed she had to ask 'Your turn...will you lick me...down there...please?'
He looked a bit surprised, and maybe a little apprehensive as she rearranged herself on the coach, pulling up the short skirt, exposing the tiny panties she wore, the gusset clearly darker than the surrounding material from her leaking juices. She shuffled forward, her hips overhanging the edge, her legs spread wide. She held her breath. Neither her two previous boyfriends had been prepared to do this, but he was older, more experienced, he must know girls were supposed to want this, to like it.
