Jamie was in trouble.
He'd known it pretty much the instant he'd woken, he'd kind of hoped he was dreaming, but within thirty seconds he'd known he wasn't. He was in trouble, real trouble.
Maeve was in bed with him. She hadn't been there when he'd woken for a moment or two in the middle of the night, she was now.
But that wasn't the main reason he was in trouble, it was what she was doing that was going to get him in trouble.
Maeve was his near neighbour's daughter. And you weren't supposed to do this with your near neighbour's daughter: not when there's a near twenty year age gap, she's supposed to be sick, and you're supposed to be 'babysitting' her. She wasn't anywhere near a baby, but she'd only recently turned 18 and Jamie was fast approaching 40, so the analogy still stood.
He'd known the family: Maddy, Anthony and Maeve, for years; ever since they'd moved in just across the street. Jamie had been sitting on his front porch when they and their removal truck had arrived and had watched the move in with interest. They had exchanged waves of hello and when the truck had finally left he'd wandered over and offered them coffee.
Over the intervening years they'd become good friends, but he'd never been asked to babysit before; he was a single guy, Maeve was a young girl, they probably thought it would have been weird, and it had never occurred to him to offer.
Now they were desperate and he was the last resort: Jamie didn't feel he should have been any kind of resort, but here he was.
It had been Wednesday when they'd come to him. "I'm my brother's best man and we're supposed to be away all weekend," he'd said, "but Maeve has come down with something and is in no fit state to travel. We really have to go but we don't want to leave her on her own, I'm sorry mate but we're stuck and wondered if you'd mind sleeping over Friday and Saturday night, just to keep an eye on her."
The guy had babbled on a bit with the essence being that he couldn't find anyone else who would do it at such short notice, so Jamie was very definitely the last resort. He'd also assured Jamie that Maeve was so ill that he was highly unlikely to even see her but they just wanted someone there they could check in with or in case she needed anything.
Maeve knew him and wouldn't freak out. Jamie was the one freaking out.
She did know him: had for the last ten years and more. She'd been a gorgeous looking kid with an ever present smile, her mother's beautiful green eyes and mad, spiky bleach blonde hair, full of fun and energy, mischievous and cheeky: just how a little girl was supposed to be, not that he really knew. Now she was all grown up, but still full of fun and energy, mischievous and cheeky and, as far as babysitting her went, she scared the life out of him.
He had zero experience of children; he'd been one himself granted, but he didn't feel that qualified him to say he knew them. He'd been an only child and had never had his own, had never really been in a serious, long term relationship. So he didn't know kids.
Jamie had protested that it was a role for which he was ill suited and for which he was totally unpracticed but, in the end, he'd felt cornered and hadn't been able to say no. But right up until Friday evening he'd been in a near state of panic, constantly hoping for the phone call that said he was no longer needed. It hadn't come.
He hadn't seen her at all on Friday evening, and only twice through Saturday when she'd shuffled past on her way to the kitchen, the first time she hadn't acknowledged his presence, the second she'd given him a weak wave, neither time had she invited conversation. He'd looked in on her a few times through the day but all he'd been able to see was a lump under her duvet.
He'd looked in on her again while on his way to bed on Saturday night but the duvet was on the floor and he could hear the shower running so she was obviously feeling better, maybe he'd see her the next morning.
But now he was in trouble. Big trouble.
She had her back to him and she was naked. So was he.
Jamie always slept naked. He lived on his own so it was never a problem. Maeve was ill in bed so it still shouldn't have been a problem. Clearly she was no longer ill, neither was she in her own bed. Now it was a problem.
Especially as she had his cock trapped between her thighs.
It was a very hard, very aroused cock. Of course it was; Maeve had it between her thighs.
She'd sort of done this to him once before. It had been her eighteenth birthday party and she was having it at her house. He wasn't there, but then neither were her parents. They were sitting with Jamie on his front porch. They'd brought wine and had drunk far too much of it as they'd continually glanced nervously at their house.
If the noise level was a barometer then the party was going well, but then that would obviously depend on your point of view.
But the police hadn't appeared and nothing was coming through the windows so it must be ok, but then it wasn't his house.
Then around 9 o'clock Maeve came out and walked over carrying something. Maddy and Anthony glanced at each other and then watched her with slight looks of panic while Jamie watched her with awe. She'd always looked a little 'tomboyish' to him; a bit grubby, mostly wearing baggy tee shirts and tracksuit bottoms or shorts, mostly charging around with other kids, riding a bike or a skateboard. Tonight she was wearing heels and a figure hugging, bright green dress, her matching green eyes sparkled and her skin shone, she was grinning from ear to ear. She looked fantastic and as far from tomboyish as she could get.
"Maeve, you're supposed to be making sure everybody behaves themselves over there." Her mother wasn't happy.
"It's ok mum, I've left Peter in charge." She glanced around, there wasn't a spare seat so, without asking, she sat in Jamie's lap.
"Peter!"
Clearly this Peter wasn't their first choice for policing a riot.
"Yes, Peter, it'll be fine."
Both parents humft in chorus and looked even more nervously across the street, seemingly oblivious to the fact that their grown daughter had just sat on their neighbour.
The neighbour didn't know what to do.
"I've brought you cake."
"Thank you darling but......" Acknowledged her mother whilst still looking across at her house.
"Oh alright, I'll go back." Sulked Maeve.
"Happy birthday Maeve."
Maeve twisted and threw an arm around Jamie's neck, kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you Jamie. I've brought you cake." She repeated, grinning at him. He grinned weakly back. "Thank you Maeve." It was all he could think to say. He was nervous: the twist had been the final touch. He was getting an erection.
He didn't dare move, but she sort of saved him. She handed him the tin she'd been carrying, then, smirking, said, "I think you should have this." And with another, he thought unnecessary, twist, she climbed off him and tripped back across the street.
Her parents, eyes still firmly on their house, breathed a sigh of relief.
Jamie, his eyes firmly on Maeve's bum, sighed a different sigh of relief, settled the tin strategically in his lap and croaked, "Anyone for cake?"