I like baby-sitting. Most girls that I know give it up by the time they reach eighteen but I've kept on doing it, even though I'm nearly nineteen. There are a couple of reasons I do it, apart from the fact that I like children.
One reason is that I'm a bit of an introvert. Baby-sitting forces me to go out and meet people, even it is just for a short while. It got easier for me once I established some regular clients. The other reason is that I'm training to be a full time nanny and it's good practice. Why a nanny, you ask? Like I said, I like children. Also, if you get a good gig you can make a lot of money. Did you know that a tight-lipped nanny for a Hollywood star might earn a couple of hundred thousand a year?
Tonight I was sitting for Greg and Peg Stevenson and I was feeling just a little nervous. On a side note, I hate it when people have similar names. I mean, Greg and Peg? If you don't quite catch the first letter when a name is called you don't know who they're referring to. So annoying.
Anyway, back to feeling nervous. This time it wasn't just my general irritation at having to interact with people but a specific nervousness caused by Greg. Last time I was over there I caught him checking me out a couple of times. He knows I'm nineteen (well, almost nineteen, so close that it counts) and I couldn't help wondering if he was trying to come on to me.
It's not that he was an unattractive man. He's really quite nice. Not overly handsome but not a gargoyle, either. He was fit and smart and funny and married. It was that last word that made him entirely ineligible. Still, I was probably worrying over nothing as Peg would be there and I couldn't see her letting her man develop wandering eyes. A lovely and determined woman was Peg.
I arrived at the Stevenson's place and Greg answered the door. Apart from the standard greeting inanities he didn't say anything as he ushered me in but for some reason I was feeling even more uncomfortable. Was my blouse too tight, my skirt too short? I knew the answers were no and no but that didn't stop them feeling too tight and too short. I'm about five foot ten and I normally look quite elegant when I dress up. I also have rather a full bust but that goes with my height. I was only dressed casually as I would be looking after children. What did it matter what I looked like?
I still couldn't convince myself that my blouse wasn't pulled tight across my bust or stop wondering as to whether my skirt had shrunk in the wash without me noticing. One thing I was sure of was that Greg was noticing everything about me. It had to be my imagination. I'd sat for them dozens of times over the years.
I relaxed a little when we walked into the kitchen. Peg and the kids were there. The kids promptly pounced for hugs and cuddles and then let me loose. Peg gave me a smile and a nod and a quick once over. She didn't say anything, which helped, because she wouldn't be backwards about commenting if she thought what I was wearing was inappropriate.
She finished what she was doing and then turned her full attention onto me.
"Nice to see you again, Megan," she said. "You're looking quite mature and elegant. Doesn't Megan look splendid, dear?"
"Indeed," agreed Greg. "It's amazing how a gawky girl can turn into such a refined young woman. Not that you were ever gawky."
Now I was feeling all nervous again as I could see the appreciation in Greg's eyes. It seemed to me they lingered on my breasts and other places and I was feeling very self-conscious, as though I'd been mentally stripped. As to never being gawky - Ha! You take a sixteen year old who's underdeveloped, skinny as a rake, nearly six feet tall, and find any description better suited than gawky? (I'd been a late developer but I'd caught up now.)
I kept an eye on the kids while Peg got ready to go out. Greg seemed to be omnipresent, there every time I turned around. There wasn't anything specific that he said or did but I seemed to become more and more aware of him. It was just that he was always there, gently smiling, and I could swear his attention was focused on me, even though I didn't catch him deliberately looking me over. Paranoid, much?
By the time Peg was ready to go I was feeling all hot and bothered. It was a relief to see them walk out the door. What wasn't a relief was having Greg drop his eyes to my breasts as I was leaving and then raising his eyes to meet mine and giving me a smile and a wink. I felt even more embarrassed when I glanced down and saw that my nipples had erected a couple of small tents on my blouse. Maybe I should have worn something sturdier than the flimsy bra I had on. (I only wear bras because it's the thing to do. My breasts are perfectly capable of supporting themselves. Gravity hasn't yet proven to be my foe.)
Now that Greg and Peg had gone I could put the whole thing behind me. I'd have a few peaceful hours watching the kids and then do some reading on my eReader. I had a nice library I'd built up over the last few years. When Greg and Peg returned it would be a case of grab my pay and I'd be out the door and on my way home. It was obvious to me in hind-sight that I'd been worrying about nothing.
Everything went as smoothly as I anticipated. The kids played, had their baths, went to bed, went to sleep. I watched, directed, frowned when required, and finished up curled up on the lounge reading. That's where I was when Greg and Peg returned.
Peg gave me a wave as she came in, heading towards the bedrooms to check up on the kids. She always did that. Greg, on the other hand, came wandering over to me, reaching for his wallet. He extracted my pay, folded it in half and calmly tucked it into my pocket. The one on my blouse, and I'm sure you can guess where that pocket was.
"Really, Greg," I said, blushing furiously, totally mortified.
"Yes, really," he said, and then he kissed me.
I was so not expecting that. I was taken completely by surprise and I found that I was actually kissing him back for a moment or two. Then I was pulling back quickly, my blush redder than ever.
"Well, she didn't slap you," said Peg from the doorway, with a bit of a giggle in her voice. "Maybe you should kiss her again."
I opened my mouth to protest and found that it was too late as he was already following up the first kiss. This time I was not kissing him back. Well, not really.
As soon as he broke the kiss I started spluttering but Peg just laughed at me.
"Oh, just relax a little, Megan," she said. "Greg's just feeling a little frisky and it doesn't hurt to let him work off a little of his energy on you. Consider it an education. It's not as though he is going to seduce you with me standing right here, now is it?"
Greg just laughed and sat down on the couch, pulling me down with him so I finished up on his lap. He started dropping little kisses on my face and neck, moving down towards my shoulders. He pushed the sides of my blouse apart a little more, giving him a touch of cleavage to kiss. It seemed that it had been a good idea to wear my bra. A point emphasised when he flicked open a couple more buttons and my breasts were somewhat more exposed.
Now I knew where Greg's hands were so it came as a bit of a surprise when someone touched my back and the clasp on my bra popped free. Greg seemed to sense this happening and he was quick to brush the bra off my breasts, freeing them to his avid gaze.
"Quite lovely," he assured me, and buried his face between them.
"Greg," I cried with a bit of a wail, pushing at him. I flicked a glance at Peg and the smug look on her face made me realise why my bra was undone.
"Pe-eg," I moaned and she had the audacity to laugh.
"Like I said, don't worry. When it's time to get down to serious business I'll haul him off to the bedroom. Until then just enjoy a little petting. It won't hurt you."