Melanie was baby-sitting for the Ford's on a Friday night. She had arrived at their place and was walking towards the front door when she heard her name mentioned. Everyone stops to listen when they hear themselves mentioned. Melanie was no different. She paused where she was.
Mr & Mrs Ford were discussing her, their voices floating through an open window. Mr Ford was saying that he'd liked the way she'd filled out over the last couple of years. Melanie smiled at this. She'd been a late developer. At sixteen she'd had the tiniest boobs around. Now, a bare two years later, she was remarkably well-endowed.
Melanie lost her smile at the next comment.
"I wouldn't mind taking that girl to bed for a bit of fun," continued Mr Ford. "Save you having to put up with my attentions all the time."
Melanie heard Mrs Ford laugh.
"You can go for it with my blessing," she said calmly. "I'd give a hundred bucks to hear you trying to proposition a nice girl like that."
"Thanks for the blessing but save your money," returned Mr Ford. "You know damn well I'm not going to ask her."
"And thank god for that," thought Melanie. "Fancy having to dodge a proposition from an older man like him. I'd die of embarrassment."
She hurried on to the door and rang the bell, trying to put the snippet of conversation out of her mind. Shortly after that Melanie was greeting her charges for the evening while Mr & Mrs Ford retired to finish getting ready for their night out.
As Melanie saw the Ford's leave she couldn't help but notice Mr Ford. He was a big solid man, not fat but beefy, with quite a bit of muscle.
"It was a pity," mused Melanie, "that he's so old. Thirty at least. Otherwise I might have been tempted."
It was a relatively easy night for Melanie. The children behaved relatively well and after being put to bed for the fourth time they actually stayed there and went to sleep. Melanie had then settled down to watch some TV. She was in that shadow area, neither asleep nor fully awake, when the Ford's finally returned.
When the Ford's entered the lounge room they found Melanie on the couch, sitting up with the TV on, but nearly asleep. Mr Ford flashed his wife a smirk and walked quietly over to Melanie. Her T-shirt had come adrift from her jeans, showing a strip of midriff. Mr Ford took hold of the t-shirt and started lifting it easily upwards. Half-asleep, Melanie automatically lifted her arms when told to do so, and Mr Ford whisked the t-shirt off.
The t-shirt being drawn over her head was enough to snap Melanie out of her doziness. Her eyes blinked, she registered what had happened and leapt to her feet.
"What do you think you're doing?" she cried, shocked at the liberty taken.
She was even more shocked when she felt Mrs Ford's hands swiftly undoing her bra. Frantically she clutched the bra against her breasts.
"Stop it. Have you both gone mad?" she half-shrieked.
In answer to her question, Mr Ford reached down and started undoing the catch on her jeans. With a squeal she dropped her hands down to prevent him, realising too late what she'd done as her bra promptly fell away from her breasts.
Melanie tried to push Mr Ford's hands away with one hand while at the same time trying to pull her bra back up into place. She squealed again as Mrs Ford took hold of her arms at the elbows, pulling them back and holding her.
Protesting bitterly, Melanie tried to struggle as Mr Ford unzipped her jeans and started pulling them down.
"What do you think you're playing at?" she wanted to know, demanding answers angrily.
Her questions were ignored, Mr Ford concentrating on removing her jeans. For a few moments Melanie almost felt vindicated for choosing such tight jeans. Mr Ford was having a devil of a time getting them down. She knew how he must be feeling because she'd cursed them a few times herself when struggling in and out of them.
Like Melanie, Mr Ford found that perseverance was the key to the problem. Slowly but surely he peeled the jeans down. Also like Melanie, he found that he needed to remove her boots first or the jeans would not come off.
