I had accepted (reluctantly) a babysitting job for George Mathers. If it had been my own decision I'd have politely explained that at eighteen I considered myself too old to be babysitting and I'd much rather go to a club with friends. Unfortunately my mother answered the phone and accepted the job for me.
Have you ever tried to cancel an appointment that your mother has made for you? In that case you know how hard it is to do so. She'll guilt you for a year, always referring back to it anytime something comes up. Much easier to just grit your teeth and do as she's decided.
"But you've always sat for George," she'd say. "He was your first customer when you started sitting."
With that sort of start she'd have been off and racing, all my rebuttals ignored as of no consequence. She could afford to do this. She wasn't the one having to do the job.
I painted a smile on my face and fronted up at George's place at the required time. He had a genuine smile on his face, quite happy to see me.
"Just toss your things in the spare room," he told me. "You'll find Jenny is in her room."
My things? What was he on about?
"Ah, excuse me? My things?" I asked, seeking clarification.
"Your nightwear," he said cheerfully. "Your mother did mention that this was an overnight job, didn't she?"
Well no, she'd somehow or other missed telling me that part. Still, no problems. I could sleep in my undies if I had to.
"Ah, no, she forgot to mention that," I said dryly, "but it's not a problem."
I did toss my purse into the spare room and then I went to say hullo to Jenny. She was nearly ten now and quite an engaging young girl. I never had to put up with whining tantrums from her.
George departed and Jenny and I mucked around for a while. Her bedtime rolled around soon enough and, while I gave her some leeway, I had her tucked away and asleep at a reasonable time. Not being ten myself I didn't go to bed. I went burrowing through George's DVD collection and settled down to watch a movie. Then, not really feeling tired, I watched another one.
What with one thing and another it was past midnight when I got up, stretched, and headed off to bed. I was lucky in the fact that the spare room had a small en suite. I stripped down to my undies, washed my face and was ready to go to bed when I had a thought.
Did I really want to wear my undies all day, sleep in them all night, and have to wear them again tomorrow? Yuk. I did not. I did what any sensible young woman would do. I stripped them off, gave then a quick wash in the basin, and draped them over the towel rack to dry. Come the morning they'd be nice and dry and clean. That done I wandered back into the bedroom, ready to go to sleep.
What I wasn't ready for was to find George standing in the middle of the bedroom, looking at my naked body, with an expression you would expect to see if someone had been slapped by a wet fish. Boy, was he shocked. Not as shocked as I was though.
I gave a little scream and tried to cover up while his expression changed into a great big smile and he reached for me.
He started kissing me but I was not kissing him back. I was wriggling and screaming and protesting and pushing against him. (I stopped the wriggling when it dawned on me that he was enjoying it.)
The fact that I wasn't kissing him back didn't seem to slow him down much. His mouth moved down across my neck and shoulder, kissing me all the way, and then settled on my breasts, giving them a lot of loving attention. At the same time he stopped holding me against him and one hand drifted down to my bottom and the other to my mons.
It was a case of 'oh my god, what is he doing'? Well, it was pretty easy to tell what he was doing because I could feel exactly what was happening. His mouth was devouring my breasts and sucking on my nipples while one hand was stroking my bottom and the other was rubbing against my pussy, and rubbing quite firmly, too. I could feel that rubbing all the way inside me.
It turned out I wasn't au fait with everything that was happening. It took me quite by surprise to find myself flat on my back on the bed as I could have sworn George hadn't taken his hands off me at any stage.
As it was I found myself lying there and George's mouth was moving south at a slow pace, licking and kissing every inch of me along the way. While he was doing that his fingers were going exploring, dipping between my lips and probing internally, touching and teasing and making me feel the most peculiar things.
I was horrified when his mouth covered my mound, his tongue darting in all direction. His tongue slipped between my lips and I found that it was way, way, worse than having his fingers there. It seemed to touch every fibre of my being and heat was blossoming deep inside me, the lashing of his tongue helping to stir me up.
I was clutching at his hair and giving puling little protests which were totally useless.
I was all, "George, argh, don't, you can't do that, my god what are you doing, argh, stop that at once," and George just kept tasting and touching and stroking and petting.
If anyone tells you that a man can't find the clitoris don't believe them. George had no trouble finding mine and I gave a small shriek when his tongue started probing around there, followed by more shrieking and protesting when he kept on doing it.
Despite anything I might want I was now fully aroused, knowing what was coming. George was going to rape me and there was nothing, absolutely nothing that I could do to stop him.
He kept on touching and petting and tasting and my excitement was almost too much too bear. I didn't actually have an orgasm but I sensed I was close to it.
Somehow George found time to undo his trousers and push them down out of the way and he moved my hand until it was wrapped around his erection. Not wrapped all the way around as my hand wasn't that big, but his erection certainly was.
I suppose that really I should have snatched my hand away in maidenly indignation but I just didn't think to do so. Instead of letting go I was hanging onto it as if it was the only solid thing in a shifting world, which was probably fairly true. It felt very solid and my world certainly seemed to be shifting around me. I was about to join the ranks of ex-virgins and I wasn't going to get any say in the matter. I was both horrified and excited and I just couldn't believe George was doing this to me.
George lifted his head and looked at me. I could swear his eyes were glittering with desire and as his gaze swept up and down my body I could practically feel where they were looking.
He gave me a brilliant smile and I was almost trembling, knowing what was about to happen.
"I think we'd better call it quits at this stage," he said, "or we'll find ourselves going a lot further than you want."
He still had that brilliant smile and I was looking at him with a mind that had gone completely blank. I'd heard what he said and I understood each and every word but the complete sentence didn't seem to make any sense.
He watched me, looking most amused, while I struggle to comprehend what was taking place. He was stopping. He wasn't going to rape me or even try to seduce me. He was stopping cold. He'd got me all worked up and aroused and hot and wet and expectant and scared and everything and now he was saying thanks, but no thanks? He was rejecting me at this stage?
"Excuse me?" I said and my tone was cold enough to freeze water.
"I said I think we'd better. . ." he began, but I wasn't having a bar of it.
"I heard what you said," I yelled. "Where the hell do you think you get off, calling a halt at the last moment? It takes gold plated gall to pull a stunt like that. Did I ask you to start this shit? No, I didn't. You were a one hundred percent self-starter and now you're saying you haven't got the balls to finish the job? What, you've been anointed Grand Poobah of the Royal Order of Eunuchs? Do you think you can get away with that sort of crap just because you're the man? I have news for you. Women get a choice these days."
"You were saying no," he pointed out, speaking quickly. "I was trying to go along with what you wanted."
"What a load of crap," I yelled. "Of course I was saying no. You were raping me. What would you expect me to say? Did my saying no worry you when you were chewing on my breasts? How about when you were tickling my ovaries from the inside? Did my saying no stop you from chewing on my pussy like a dog with a new bone? Not that I noticed. Then when you've got me worked up and resigned to what's going to happen you try to back off? How dare you?"
George looked somewhat stunned. It served him right. The nerve of the man. Then I was probably looking somewhat stunned as instead of being on the bed next to me he'd rolled over and was lying on me, his weight supported by his hands, admittedly, but still on me.
"What are you doing?" I demanded.
"Conceding that you have a point. I had no right to try and stop just because you didn't want to make love. I'm now rectifying that."
When he'd rolled onto me he'd pushed my legs further apart and was now settled between them. That cock that I'd been holding (Yes, I was still holding it. I'd just forgotten to let go was all.) was snatched out of my hand and I could now feel it pressing against my lower tummy.
I was frantically yelling, "wait, wait, wait," while a little voice was telling me that I was an idiot with a loud mouth.
