Ever had those days when you're feeling twitchy? It was a Friday evening and I'd been feeling twitchy all day. I'd released some of my tension by flirting with customers and staff at work, not going too far because they have all these sexual harassment rules these days. I was still edgy and the best way to work that edge off would be to go to a nightclub to have a few drinks, a few dances, and some more serious flirtation. (Still not going too far because some of the bozos you meet at nightclubs are strange.)
So was I going to a nightclub to drink and dance and dabble in romance?
I was not. I was trotting over to George and Jenny's place to put in a few hours baby-sitting, because a commitment had been made and must be honoured.
Well, I can hear you thinking, if you made the commitment then you should honour it. I didn't make the commitment. My little sister did. (Not that seventeen was all that little but she was younger than me so that gave me the wisdom coming from being older than her and made me deserving of respect. Not that I got much respect, I'll admit.)
Her problem was that she hadn't counted on being knocked off her bicycle and winding up with a sprained ankle. She rang up Jenny to apologise and assured her that I'd be only too happy to fill in. I explained to Patti what I thought of her solution. Our mother then started in with how families helped each other and it wasn't as though I'd be breaking a date and Patti was always willing to help me when I needed assistance and wasn't I wearing Patti's new jumper right then and you get the drift?
I capitulated, swearing to myself that the next time Patti had an important date I would deliberately break my ankle and insist she stay home to nurse me. That'd show her.
Jenny was sweet, petite, and quite pretty. I considered her a little under-developed bust-wise but compared to my 36Ds a lot of women looked a little under-developed. Not that I flaunted what I had, except perhaps just a little while at the beach. I have to admit that I really do have an excellent figure. Both my mirror and my boy-friends assure me of that.
George was a bit of a brute, size-wise. His looks were belied by his personality as he was quite charming and had a keen sense of humour. Dumb was something that he was not, even if he did look it.
I'd sat for them before when I was a little younger and got on well with both George and Jenny and the kids. George liked to flirt a little but it was all innuendo and no groping or going too far. I brightened up when I remembered that. I'd be able to wear off some of my edginess by flirting with him. While I wouldn't be going the grope I was willing to bet that I could engineer a situation or two where George found himself accidentally groping me.
Ha! Ten seconds. That's all it took me. Ten seconds. George had just let me in the door and I'd walked past him, remembered my phone was still in the car, and spun around to dash out to get it. George had just pushed the door closed and his hand was still in the air and when I spun around his hand just naturally met with my breast. I don't know if he deliberately closed his hand over it or if it was an automatic reflex but there I was, standing there with George holding my breast.
"Really, George," I said, even managing a pretty blush (which isn't easy).
He hastily backed off, all apologies, and I just pointed back to my car murmuring that I'd left my phone in it and I'd be right back.
After that I said hullo to Jenny and got reacquainted with the kids. It took George a good five minutes before he was able to come up with even the simplest innuendo and when he did I blushed again, my hand coming up to lightly touch the breast he'd grabbed. He flushed and was quiet for another five minutes.
Nothing keeps a good man down, fortunately, and as Jenny was busy getting ready to go out (George was ready. Men are like that. They walk into the bedroom and back out and they're all ready to go.) I was the only entertainment around the place. He just naturally rallied and started up his normal mild flirtation. (I was careful not to draw attention to my breast again. I didn't want to overdo it.)
For all my casualness and playing with the children most of the time I suspect that George did manage to get an eyeful of my cleavage a time or two. I was wearing tracksuit pants, unfortunately. I'd have preferred to have come in a short skirt to really tease him but that would have been too much of a change from my normal behaviour.
Even though George was a gentleman he still managed by chance to have me pressed against him, my breasts crushed against his chest. It wasn't his fault, I assured him. Probably mine for coming around the corner so fast.
The most interesting incident was when George was waiting patiently next to the door for Jenny to come, as they were nearly ready to leave. I was still playing with the kids and when little Susie pounced on me I jumped back with a laugh.
Straight into George who found himself pressed between me and the wall, my buttocks firmly pressed against his crotch. Was it my imagination or did I feel something moving against me? Not my imagination, I was willing to bet. I apologised politely and continued our game with Susie.
George and Jenny departed and I looked after the kids, feeling rather smug and pleased with myself. I suspected that George was now feeling rather frisky and Jenny would be having some fun when they retired for the night.
The kids wound up in bed asleep and I wound up curled up on the couch watching TV. For once there was actually a decent movie on. Time passed and I was just starting to nod off when I heard the door open and George and Jenny returned.
George seemed happy and cheerful whereas Jenny seemed happy and sleepy. George packed Jenny of to bed, saying that he'd pay me and be with her soon. Jenny vanished and George took out his wallet to settle up. It was the standard fee plus a ten dollar tip as I had to fill in for Patti at a moment's notice as it were. I was quite happy to accept the tip. Ten bucks is ten bucks, after all.
George escorted me to the front door, talking all the way. I was slightly surprised when George followed me out of the house and even more surprised when he took my arm, turned me around to face the wall, and pressed me up against the wall.
"Now let's see how far you're willing to go," he said. "Ah, don't worry about the light. The porch is actually rather secluded and can't be seen from the street. You have to walk down the drive to see onto it."
At the same time as he was talking he was grabbing my tracksuit pants and pushing them down. They dropped quite easily after they got past my bottom.
"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" I demanded, astounded that he could be so blatant about it.
"Right now?" he asked. "Just rubbing you."
Rubbing me was right. His hand had slipped between my legs and he was rubbing my mound quite firmly. The silky feel of my panties between his hands and my flesh didn't ameliorate the feeling in any manner whatsoever.
"But you can't do that," I pointed out, feeling rather shocked.
