Babysitter Surprised

My name is Chantelle. I'm eighteen, reasonable popular with people of both sexes, intelligent (in my opinion), and pretty (also in my opinion). My only complaint about my figure is that my bust is a little too big. Actually, opinion on that is divided. My female friends agree with me that it's a bit much. Male friends have a different opinion.

I am currently unemployed but looking. I do manage to fill in some time with part-time jobs and the occasional babysitting gig. It's all experience and useful for my resume. Plus I get letters of endorsement saying what a great person I am.

On a recent Friday I had an all-night sitting job with the MacKenzies. Their twins were two years old and for their birthday the twins had a little party in the afternoon with other toddlers coming along. The reason for the baby sitting was that after the party the parents were tossing the little tykes to me and going out for the night for their own celebration. They had a hotel booked and quite an evening planned. Good luck to them.

All I had to do was give the kids a cool bath and tuck them into bed. They were out cold almost before their heads hit the pillows, worn out for a change.

After the kids were in bed I watched TV and chatted on Facebook for a while. It had, quite frankly, been a hot and humid day. That hot and humid day had turned smoothly into a hot and humid night, and I was feeling distinctly sweaty and mucky. Eventually I found the cat and kicked it outside, had a cool shower which left me feeling a lot better, and went to bed.

Now there was just me and the kids there and did I care if they saw me naked? Not so you'd notice. It was too hot to get under the covers so I just tossed them back and went to bed au natural, just using a sheet to cover myself.

It was around midnight when something woke me. Lying there I could hear a noise coming from somewhere in the house. Assuming one of the kids had woken up feeling grizzly I hopped out of bed and padded quietly into their room. I was relieved to find them both asleep.

I'd stepped out of the kid's room and was heading back to bed when I heard the noise again. This time I recognised it. It was a cat mewing. Suspecting that the cat had got back in the house somehow I glanced towards the kitchen, wondering whether I should go and throw it out again or go back to bed and just pretend I never heard him.

I should have gone to bed without even looking towards the kitchen. I found I could see the kitchen door quite clearly, light peeping out from under it. Not only was the cat back in but I'd forgotten to switch off the light. Sighing, I toddled back down to the kitchen, feeling tempted to really throw the cat when I put him out rather than just tossing him gently out the door. If he hadn't meowed I'd still be asleep.

I walked into the kitchen and there was the cat, walking about on the table. I scooped him up, unlocked his cat flap and pushed him through and out, making sure the flap was locked behind him. How had he got back in? I turned and flipped off the light, intending to go straight back to bed. Then I damn near had a heart attack.

"Ah, leave the light on, if you don't mind," said a voice.

I snapped the light back on real fast, spinning around to see where the voice was coming from. There was a man there, leaning on the counter next to the sink, a glass of something cold in his hand. How the hell had I missed seeing him when I walked in? It was probably because I was watching the cat and he hadn't been moving. He looked familiar. I definitely knew him, but couldn't recall where from.

"Did you let the cat in?" I demanded grumpily. "I wouldn't have been happy if its yowling had woken the kids, I can tell you that."

"Um, yes, guilty, I'm afraid. He shot past before I knew he was coming. I would have tossed him out again."

I just grunted and then asked the question I should have asked first.

"Um, I think I should know you, but I can't recall who you are. And I have no idea why you're here."

"Starting to wake up a bit more are you? I'm Alan MacKenzie, Brian's brother. We have met before but it was only in passing. Basically I'm just crashing for the night. There was a small fire at my place earlier and it's uninhabitable until cleaned up, so I came around here."

For some reason he was giving me an odd look and seemed to find my presence vastly amusing. It was rather irritating.

"Um, yes, well I'm sorry to hear about your fire. I hope there's not too much damage. Ah, I'm going back to bed now. I'm in the spare room."

"Well, I might as well come to bed now, too," he said affably. "And I must thank you for your kind invitation, and I gratefully accept it."

"What?"

"To go to bed with you," he said, leaving me with my mouth hanging open. I'd invited no such thing. Before I could say anything he continued.

"If a young lady dressed the way you are tells me where her bedroom is, I get the message."

I glanced down at my pyjamas, even as a little voice was screaming, "YOU IDIOT!" I had completely forgotten that I wasn't wearing any, hadn't I? I wasn't wearing anything. I was standing here, talking to a strange man, stark staring naked, and telling him where my bed is. Oh my fucking god, was I insane?

He undoubtedly knew from the way my face turned bright red and from the shocked gasp I gave that it had suddenly dawned on me that I was naked. I didn't even get a chance to hide behind my hands, or turn and bolt. Just like that, he was standing next to me, laughing silently.

"Forgot, did you," he asked, and I could hear the mirth in his voice. "Rather unfortunate. For you, that is. Not for me. You're really quite lovely."

He had one hand on my back preventing me from running and the other was already caressing by breast. I just stood there looking at his hand, dark against my whiteness, watching it as it slid smoothly across my breast, stroking it, pausing to put a finger on my nipple and rotate it.

"Ah, I, I, um, that is, you, ah," I didn't know what the hell I was trying to say.

His hand crossed smoothly to my other breast, feeling it, weighing it, stroking the nipple. My breasts were feeling dreadfully full and heavy all of a sudden, and my nipples were standing out and felt extremely sensitive. Little flames seemed to be lighting up inside me.

I managed to reach up and push his hand away. Reluctantly, I found, because, for some odd reason, I liked the feel of him stroking my breast.

"You can't do that," I managed to say. "I wasn't inviting you to my bed. I have no intention of sleeping with you."

There. That was laying it on the line.

The reason it was so easy to push his hand away from my breast became plain. He needed it to stroke me elsewhere. I was looking at him, telling him no, not watching his hand moving down to touch me elsewhere.

Touch? His hand just slipped over my mons and darted between my legs, closing over my mound and holding me.

"That's OK," he was saying. "Sleeping is not the first thing on my agenda of things to do with you."

"Stop that," I hissed at him, as he started rubbing his hand back and forth against me. "I said no."

"Yes, I know. I heard you. Don't worry. I know how to ignore things like that."

He had to be kidding.

"You can't just ignore me when I say no," I pointed out.

In reply he bent down and nibbled on my breast, sucking my nipple into his mouth and rolling it around with his tongue. Then he lifted his head.

"I can," he said. "Just watch me."

At the same time he released his tantalising touch on my mound and turned me around. With that he was guiding me down the hallway to the bedroom, his hand firm on my back. I went along easily enough. After all, I wanted to go to bed. I just didn't want him in there with me.

Reaching my bedroom door I propped. I wasn't taking another step with him pushing at me.

"This is as far as you go," I said firmly.

"If you insist," he said, startling me, as I thought I was going to have to argue the point. "First, a kiss good-night."

I have to admit that I wasn't entirely averse to letting him kiss me good-night. He was an attractive man and it was a small price to pay to get his hands off me. So I let him kiss me.

He was quite a good kisser, even though he shouldn't have had his hands on my bottom, especially when I had nothing on. Still, I didn't protest, even when he lifted me up, holding me against him. I seemed to be floating through the air as he kissed me and it was a strange feeling.

It turned out that the reason I felt as though I was floating through the air was because I was floating through the air, or being carried, anyway. This belatedly registered on me when I found myself being pressed down against the mattress while he continued to kiss me. I'll admit his hands had left my bottom but this was for two reasons. One, I was lying on said bottom, and two, his hands were on my front, stroking breasts and mons.

I managed to twist my head to the side, saying, "Enough." Yes, that worked real well. His mouth just went drifting down the side of my neck, dropping little kisses as he went, right up to the point where his mouth was on my breast, sucking on my nipple. Make that nipples, plural. He didn't mind crossing from one to the other and back. I was going to have little suction bruises all over my breasts before he was finished, I just knew it.

While he was kissing me his hand was hard at work investigating my mound, stroking it softly, rubbing it firmly, probing gently inside me, slowly but surely arousing me, and I couldn't seem to work out how to stop him.

I was saying things like, "No, you mustn't. You shouldn't do that. You can't do that." Everything was blandly ignored, with Alan not even seeming to hear a word I said. The touching and the kissing seemed to go on forever, and he actually had the gall to touch me in places that were just too sensitive to be directly touched at all. I nearly bounced off the bed when his wandering fingers brushed up against my clitoris.

When he finally stopped kissing and touching I was just lying there, slightly stunned by it all. He was casually undressing and I was watching, not really understanding what was going on. I got an inkling when his shorts went down showing me his erection. I looked up at his face and then back down to his cock, it sticking out and damn near waving to me. He wouldn't, I told myself. Really he wouldn't.

I kept telling myself that even as he was moving my legs further apart and taking up a position between them. I was still telling myself that when he lined up and gently pressed the head of his cock against my lips, moving it from side to side a little, encouraging my lips to part.

In hindsight, instead of lying there and watching and telling myself that he wouldn't really do it to me, I should have been telling him not to do it to me. As it was he took silence as consent and started pushing forward. I watched and he took me. His cock slid smoothly into place. I could feel it moving along my passage, stretching and filling me, and then with one last push he was home.

This wasn't right. I was definitely going to have to speak to him about this. After he'd finished.

He pulled back and came smoothly back in, this time moving somewhat faster. I was ready for him and I lifted my hips, pushing up against him, encouraging him to go deep. (I know that it was against my will but, if he was going to do it, he was damn well going to do it properly.) Arrogant male, he just naturally accepted my moving with him, winking at me as if to say, I knew you really wanted this.

From there on things started to get interesting. Not that they weren't already interesting. They just got a lot more interesting. Alan started off nice and slow, giving me a real chance to get accustomed to him moving within me. Not that it took long. A couple of strokes and I knew him and was willing for him to get going, but I let him make the running. Men are so fussy about things like that.

I coaxed him along, gently urging him to greater speed, by letting out appreciative sounds every so often. He responded quite well, putting some real effort into his work. I, of course, responded to his response, a positive feedback loop. I have to admit that I was properly aroused even before he dipped his joystick into me. Now my arousal and excitement were climbing rapidly.

He was driving in fiercely and I was bucking beneath him, letting out squeaking sounds, clinging to him, legs wrapped around him, doing my best to hold into him while he rode me. Every thrust was exciting and pleasurable and he was giving me plenty of them, driving in with eager determination.

He was considerate. I could tell when he'd reached a point where he wanted to vent but he held off, wanting to make sure that I was going to make it. I was tempted to just hold off and let him think he'd failed, but I couldn't. I wanted my own climax, and I wanted it now.

I was quite ready when he cut loose, driving in with a sudden frantic need, splashing all over inside me. I just gave a small scream and let my climax wash over me, shaking with the delight of it.

We sprawled on the bed afterwards, breathing hard. I was just waiting until I got my breath back so I could tell him what I thought of his dastardly assault upon my person. He got his breath back first.

"OK," he said. "Give me a few minutes to get myself together and I'll see if I can improve on that."

I'm like, eh? He wants to do it again? Can he? He seemed to think so.

It was only fair, I decided, that I should wait until he'd finished attacking me before I made any complaints. After all, he might not want to stop at twice. Better let him get it all out of his system. I'd just make a note and make a single complaint when he was finally worn out.