Came Bac for You

"...Claire?" Rob wished he sounded more certain, but the woman at the door in the stylish yellow jacket and black jeans didn't quite look like the teenager who used to babysit for the McKinleys anymore. She'd found a last growth spurt somewhere in Europe, and her warm hazel eyes now met Rob's confused stare at a level height behind her chunky glasses. She'd given up straightening her hair, and it now puffed up and out like a cloud from her light brown scalp. And she'd filled out in other ways, too, Rob noticed, carefully keeping his gaze from flicking downward. Their former neighbor was only twenty-one, less than half his age. The last thing he wanted was to come off as some kind of dirty old man.

She gave an awkward little wave with her fingers. "That's me!" she said, smiling widely at him as though she wasn't quite sure of the reception she was going to get. "I just got back in town, figured I'd stop by and say hello to my favorite family. Mind if I come in?"

Rob stepped back from the door, running his fingers through his thinning black hair in a futile attempt to make himself look a little bit less disheveled. "Sure, please!" he said, wishing he had time for a quick shave to get rid of the salt-and-pepper stubble that made him look just one step up from a couch-surfing bachelor uncle. Company always felt so much more unexpected when you worked from home. "Joyce is just out dropping the boys off at soccer practice, she'll probably be home in about an hour or so. She'll be so glad to see you! She's been saying since the day you left that she can't wait to get you back."

Claire chuckled. "Oh, I think my babysitting days are over. The boys are, what, twelve and fourteen now? The last thing I need to deal with is yet another bunch of overactive hormone cases." She smiled, just to make it clear that she was joking, but Rob could hear a troubling undertone of bitterness in her voice. Whatever had happened to her during her time in Europe, it clearly hadn't gone quite as well as she hoped. At least not on a personal level.

Still, it looked like studying abroad suited her in some ways. Claire's coltish, gawky mannerisms had been replaced with a quiet confidence; she walked through the living room with a smooth, self-assured gait that would have been every bit as much at home in the fashion houses of Italy as it was in Rob's New York brownstone. Even her outfit, while casual, looked tailored and stylish in a way that conveyed a simple, precise elegance. Joyce was going to be absolutely amazed to see how much their former neighbor had grown, not just physically but emotionally, over the course of her year of independent study.

He brought her into the kitchen and gestured to the stools behind the small island counter in the center of the room. "Please, have a seat," he said, beginning to go through the motions of brewing a pot of coffee. "Can I interest you in something to eat? I think we've got some bagels and cream cheese--sorry, I know it's probably weird to offer breakfast at noon, but I've been spending so much time talking with my clients in Honolulu that I'm practically living in the Pacific time zone. You're honestly lucky you caught me, I was just about to go out for my jog when you knocked." Rob recognized that he was chattering a little, but something about the contrast between his loose, shlubby tracksuit and her sleek, immaculately tailored outfit left him feeling a little bit flustered. The more she stared at him, the more he felt awkward and uncomfortable about the whole situation. Chubby-cheeked college sophomore Claire was a lot easier to deal with than this serious, confident young adult.

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry," Claire replied, settling herself onto the high stool and leaning forward with her elbows resting on the kitchen island. "Still a bit jet-lagged, I expect--what's five AM for you is eight o'clock in the evening for me, and my stomach doesn't quite know what to do with itself. I'll probably develop a massive craving for croissants right around midnight." Even her speech sounded more cultured, not exactly accented but definitely speaking as though the world of high fashion had rubbed off on her just a little. Rob couldn't imagine this Claire spilling a whole glass of juice on herself while bringing the boys an afternoon snack. She seemed a little too poised for that.

Even so, there was something oddly, inexplicably nervous about her demeanor that Rob couldn't quite place. She reached down and began to fidget with the bracelet around her wrist, turning it over and over as an uncomfortable silence filled the kitchen. "I suppose you're wondering why I stopped by," she said at last, sounding for all the world like she was about to mention an elephant in the room that Rob couldn't quite see.

Rob shook his head, pouring out a cup of coffee and stirring in cream. "No, not really," he replied, adding a tiny shrug. "Your parents moved away, sure, but not so far that it would be really inconvenient for you to visit, and you used to be over here all the time when you babysat the boys. I just figured, you know, saying hello and showing off the new you...." He trailed off into awkward silence, sipping his coffee and trying to find somewhere to look that wasn't Claire's cool stare or her suddenly lush and curvaceous body. The continuous motion of the heavy bangle around her wrist drew his attention like a safe harbor in a storm.

"Right. The new me." Once again, that slight undertone of amused bitterness, as though Claire was sharing some private joke with herself. "I suppose it must be obvious how much I changed during my year abroad, mm? Goodbye gawky, geeky Claire, hello every horny teenager's dream girl." Rob was suddenly very grateful for the bracelet for giving him somewhere to look. He could feel the heat on his cheeks, and he knew his blush was showing.

"I'm sorry," she added quickly, clearly noticing his discomfort. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It's just... I grew so much during my trip to Italy. I really came into my own as a designer, I learned how to rub elbows with famous models and wealthy clients, I even found time to pursue some of my other passions, like--do you remember when you found me reading that book, 'How to Hypnotize Anyone in Two Minutes or Less'?"

Rob chuckled, the memory of flustered, stammering Claire even more amusing contrasted with the icy cool of the woman in front of him now. "Sure, I remember. You said it was for a science project, Joyce and I teased you about it for a couple of days--"

"I can do that now." Claire dropped the sentence into the conversation like a roadblock. "One of the women I studied under, Francesca Leggieri, she discovered my interest in hypnosis and taught me a few tricks. It turns out that it's really quite easy when you know how. Most people are very susceptible to hypnosis, Rob. All those jokes you and Joyce made about being careful not to look me in the eye, well... there's a good bit more truth to them now." Rob's gratitude to the chunky bracelet and its gleaming topaz stones grew even more profound. It meant he didn't have to suddenly look away from Claire's level stare.

"And yet." She sighed. "And yet I still spent half my time fending off boys from back home who were too busy trying to hook up with every girl in class to pay attention to the amazing opportunities we had. Honestly, never have so many done so little with so much." Claire gave a tiny snort of laughter. "Or so little with so little, in the case of more than a few of them. I mean, I'm only human. I was away from home for the first time, I'm a grown woman with needs... I won't say I didn't indulge them in their crusade to get laid. Once or twice."

She paused, frowning. "That was actually what one of them said at a museum they took me to. He looked at a copy of Pope Urban's call to arms and told me he was on a crusade too. 'A crusade to get laid.' Needless to say, he didn't exactly make it into my Holy Land that night." She laughed. Rob smiled awkwardly, far too unnerved by the thought of his old babysitter having sex with anyone to join in the amusement.

She shook her head sadly. "Not a one of them knew how to do anything but stick their dick in a woman's pussy and seesaw back and forth until they came. Into a condom, which naturally upset them to no end." Rob concentrated on the bracelet harder than ever, practically willing himself into the topaz stones and away from the awkward conversation. "Do you know that I didn't have a single orgasm from a man the whole time I was in Italy? Not from my fellow students, not from any of the local boys who all claimed to be the best in bed... frankly, if it wasn't for Francesca's fingers and a lovely gentleman in his late forties that I met during a weekend in Greece, it would have been a solid dry spell for me."

Rob had to imagine that his blush physically extended from his body by this point. He was practically praying for Joyce to walk in, but looking at the clock meant breaking eye contact with the bracelet and he was terrified of what might happen if he did. "Which brings us to you, Rob. You and Joyce, if I'm being truly honest. Do you know how many times I thought of you while I was in Italy? Do you know how many times I pictured that soft stubble brushing my thighs as you knelt down between my legs and showed me what a man with real experience could do to pleasure a woman? I've had a crush on you for ages, Rob. And over the last year I've learned that there's no point in denying yourself the things you truly want."

Claire's voice softened, becoming a gentle coo that seemed to slip past Rob's ears to tickle the base of his brain. "I'm sure you understand, Rob. You must have things you've wanted, things you've desired and craved with a deep, sensual need. You can probably picture them in your mind, the erotic longings that you've held back for so long. They're coming into focus now, though, making your cock throb and pulse with the most enticing pleasure as you stare at the pretty, shining gems and let yourself ease into the fantasies you've secretly yearned for all this time."

Rob realized what was happening to him, but somehow his body seemed paralyzed by a dazed, dreamy lassitude that prevented him from speaking up. Even his eyes felt as if they were locked into a glazed, unfocused stare, the sparkling stones filling his field of vision until everything around him faded into a blur. "You don't need to fight your desires any longer, Rob. You can relax and enjoy them now. They're yours. All the warm, wonderful, sensual things you've dreamed about doing to a beautiful young woman can unfold inside that soft, sleepy mind and make your cock so deliciously, delightfully hard for me now. I'm here, Rob. I'm offering myself to you, to make love to with the skill and tenderness only an experienced man possesses. All you need to do is say yes to me, Rob. All you need to do... is say yes."

Rob's lips parted. His jaw went slack. He could feel a word pressing into his brain, practically demanding itself to be spoken. But this was Claire. Despite all the changes, in his head this was still the gawky teenage girl who'd played with his sons in the backyard and helped Joyce build blanket forts for Family Movie Night. He was twenty-four years older than she was, over twice her age. He knew her parents, even if he also knew why their daughter spent so much time anywhere but at her own house. "I think you should go," he slurred out, struggling to enunciate each word. "Before my wife gets home."

Claire looked stricken for a moment. Then, without another word, she slipped off the stool and walked rapidly out of the room.

* * * * *

He didn't tell Joyce, of course.

What was he going to say? 'Oh, honey, our old babysitter dropped by! Yeah, she absolutely threw herself at me, literally tried to hypnotize me into fucking her, but of course I'm too faithful for that'? There was no way to even initiate a discussion of the situation without sounding like he was a horny middle-aged man boasting about clearing the absolute lowest bar of not cheating on his wife with a woman half his age. Rob didn't even know where to start.

And it wasn't like he really expected Claire to come back. Sure, he'd spent a few anxious days jumping every time a package got delivered and glancing around nervously whenever he ran errands, but after a couple of weeks he settled back into his usual routine. She was probably too mortified by the whole humiliating experience of confessing her crush and getting turned down to show her face around the house ever again... which was a little bit sad, Rob had to admit, and he would miss the young woman who'd practically become a member of the household over the years. But now that everything was out in the open, they couldn't put the genie back in the bottle. Maybe in a decade or so, when she'd found a man or a woman of her own and could laugh about the whole thing, they'd be able to reconcile. But not when it was still so new and raw and awkward.

And it wasn't like Joyce really needed to know. Oh, Claire hadn't said that she was telling him anything in confidence, but how could he treat her confession any other way? She was opening up about her romantic feelings, spilling a secret that she had to know would lead to the end of Rob's marriage if he acted on absolutely anything she told him that day. She couldn't have wanted Joyce to know that she lusted after the older woman's husband, not if she wanted to salvage any kind of friendship with a kind and loving person who'd taken her into their home as if she was a member of the household. No, Claire couldn't have thought of their conversation as anything but private. Betraying that confidence would hurt her, hurt Joyce, introduce nothing but pain and poison into everyone's lives. All for what? A foolish young woman's fantasies? No. It was over now. He'd made it clear.

So he didn't tell Joyce. That proved to be a mistake.

He found out just how bad of a mistake a month later, when the boys were off at summer camp and Rob returned from an extra-long jog with his legs feeling like rubber and his chest aching with every deep, rasping breath. He paused just outside the door, hands on his knees, hoping to control his panting just enough so that when he walked in he wouldn't look quite so openly like an out-of-shape forty-something who could barely manage five miles without collapsing... when he noticed that the door wasn't quite shut. And he wasn't the only one breathing hard.

He pushed his way inside to find Joyce slumped on the couch, naked from the waist down, her legs spread wide and a dazed smile on her face. Her limbs hung limp as if she was asleep with her glassy eyes open, and she stared vacantly at Claire's bracelet in slack-jawed befuddlement. Claire wasn't turning the chunky bangle around and around on her wrist, though. Her other hand was occupied elsewhere.

"Oh hi honey," Joyce murmured loosely, sounding almost drugged into complacent bliss. "Claire stopped by. She's, um... she's been... she's been in Europe, you know."

"That's right, Joyce," Claire cooed, her voice a soft, coaxing murmur that made the older woman's flushed pink pussy visibly clench around the light brown fingers that filled it up. "And they do things differently in Europe, don't they? They allow themselves to enjoy those wonderful, special, intimate pleasures that Americans are simply too repressed to relax and open up to. But you're not repressed like that, are you." It wasn't a question. More of a command.

And Joyce responded with an almost reverent acquiescence. "I'm not repressed like that," she droned, a tiny gush of musk dripping slowly down Claire's fingers as the words slowly, sleepily escaped the hypnotized woman's lips. "I'm... open." Joyce's eyes rolled back in her head until only the whites showed, the connection between opening up to Claire's programming and pure, inescapable pleasure so obvious that Rob didn't need to be told to understand it. His wife was utterly mesmerized, her defenses relaxed just as his were by the delight of seeing their old neighbor again. And apparently Claire had learned from her previous mistakes.

"You're so open," Claire purred, pushing her fingers in and out in a teasing rhythm that made Joyce's hips rise and fall in mindless arousal. "And the more you open to me, the better it feels." There was something tantalizing about the relentless pace of Claire's stimulation, the way she thrust with the same smooth, constant motion every single time. Rob found that despite his anger, despite his apprehension, despite the weary sensation in his limbs that rooted him to the spot, he couldn't look away.

Joyce sighed in reverent joy. "The more I... open to you," she mumbled drowsily, "the better it feels." Her head lolled back on her shoulders, eyelids fluttering as the pleasure overtook her. Rob told himself he needed to stop all this, shout or clap his hands or shove Claire out of the way, anything to wake his wife up from the stuporous fog that she'd slipped into. But he felt strangely paralyzed. His eyes didn't want to move away from the sight of those slick fingers pumping in and out of Joyce's wet cunt, over and over again. His body didn't seem to want to move. His breathing was slowing down, taking on the same rhythm as Claire's slow, seductive thrusts. He was....

Shit. He was hypnotized again. The moment Rob realized it, he instantly recognized the heavy lethargy that hung over his dazed, sluggish mind from the kitchen all those weeks ago. But he'd expended all his energy over the course of a five-mile jog in the summer heat. His limbs felt weary, exhausted even before he listened to Claire sensuously husk out, "It feels so good to be open and obedient." His resistance was at its lowest ebb... and Joyce's was already utterly depleted.

"It feels so g-g-good... to be open and obedient!" Despite her obvious lassitude, Joyce's hips squirmed and bucked under Claire's touch in a way that Rob knew all too well. His wife always looked so lovely when she was close to orgasm, her pussy squeezing tightly in utterly involuntary desire. As deep as he was into the moment, Rob could remember the details of that same sensation around his cock with an almost physical reality. He had a raging erection, he slowly realized. He didn't even know when it had happened.

"You want to give in." Claire's firm tones left no room for argument. Rob could no longer think of her words as solely meant for Joyce. "You want to surrender. You want to open yourself up completely to my control and the pleasure it brings." She was thrusting a little bit faster now, hard angular thrusts that made Rob's whole body throb with sympathetic ecstasy. Joyce grunted like a rutting animal, clearly on the verge of release.

"I w-want... wanna give in, wanna... wanna surrender," the older woman mewled, her hips straining into Claire's thrust. "Wanna oh, oh, open... open up to you, please, please I wanna, I n-n-need, I... ohhhhHHHHH!" The words melted into a squeal of euphoric bliss as Joyce's mouth went wide in a gaping, helpless moan. Rob shuddered right along with her, his total focus on her soaking cunt forcing her orgasm to echo in his dazed and foggy brain. He couldn't stop staring. He couldn't stop absorbing Claire's programming right along with him.

He couldn't resist. "I told you most people are very susceptible to hypnosis, Rob," Claire said, sliding her fingers free as soon as Joyce went limp and turning her attention to him. "And I told you that if I was being honest with myself, I wanted both you and Joyce. I've always wanted to be with you like this. I volunteered to babysit all those times just hoping that you'd realize I wasn't a child anymore, that you'd finally treat me the way I wanted to be treated. That you'd show me how to make love the way that the silly, vapid boys my own age never cared enough to learn. And now it's going to happen. You're too tired to fight it any longer." She locked stares with him, and Rob soon discovered that he couldn't look away.