Eighteen-year-old Isabel Rose was a five-foot-one, ninety-pound, golden-haired angel. She had full strawberry lips like a lush pink heart and luminous navy eyes full of whispered promises. She had soft, sun-tanned skin, a sprinkling of nutmeg-colored freckles across her half-teardrop nose, and a smile like sunshine. She had perky little tits topped with stiff, rosy nipples and what was quite possibly the most magnificent ass in the world. From the back it was spectacular enough: firm, tight, and perfectly curved, but from the side.... Dear god. Isabel's ass jutted out behind her like a shelf; you could balance a glass of water on the top of those round, taut cheeks without spilling a drop.
She was also, implausibly enough, an absolute sweetheart. There wasn't a soul in town who didn't adore her. She was perfection, a cotton candy and rose petal dream.
To save for college and raise money for an upcoming class to New York City, Isabel worked a few afternoons a week at Clare's Greenhouse, selling flowers and potted plants to the residents of Riverview Park. Still, worried by the scarcity of her hours and the looming excitement of the class trip, one Tuesday afternoon Isabel left a flier on the community corkboard:
Babysitter at the Ready!
Call Isabel Rose.
XXX-XXX-XXXX
The very next day, Isabel got a call. A family on the far side of town— Drew and Sarah Phillips—needed a nanny three nights a week for their one-year-old son. The pay was good and the family sounded nice enough over the phone; Isabel was thrilled as she drove her little red Honda over to the family's home the following day.
Sarah Phillips was a tall, curvy brunette who smelled of hairspray and Chanel and had the most enormous tits Isabel had ever seen. She was lovely, but it was obvious that it took an abundance of effort to keep her so: she was just a bit too tan, her makeup a bit too heavy, and her too-white smile a bit too strained.
Drew Phillips was a few years younger, tall and broad-shouldered with bright blue eyes and the wide, sparkling grin of a toothpaste commercial model. He had a tattoo on his shoulder, an enormous Celtic cross, and an eight-inch cock that was so thick around no woman could close her fingers around it.
They drank in the sight of Isabel, so firm and tight and tiny in her white T-shirt and short pleated skirt. The little girl was so delightful, so sweet and innocent and luscious: a sweet, sun-warmed red strawberry just waiting to be picked. Each of them wanted to pluck the ripe little beauty; each of them was equally certain that the other would not approve.
Sarah was imagining sliding her huge, firm tits over Isabel's tiny nipples; Drew was imagining grabbing big handfuls of Isabel's firm, perfect ass as he drove his cock into her tight teenage cunt. God, but the girl was perfect.
"You must be Isabel," Sarah cooed, hurrying forward and enveloping the little teen in her vast cleavage. Her pussy dampened at the feel of Isabel's body against hers and she—very slightly—rubbed her tits against the young girl's chest.
"Yes, I'm Isabel," Isabel chirped back, oblivious to the way the couple's eyes roved over her form. "It's so nice to meet you!"
"We're so happy to meet you too," Drew smiled at her, memorizing the plump curves of Isabel's smiling pink lips. "Let us show you around."
The house was enormous and beautiful: there was a theater, a hot tub, and both an indoor and an outdoor swimming pool. The bedrooms were high-ceilinged and lush, with giant walk-in closets and beds as large as Isabel's entire bedroom back home.
"We both work from home sometimes," Drew explained, "so we'll be around a lot. Mostly we need you in the evenings and overnight."
"Sounds perfect," Isabel smiled back. The room she was to sleep in while working was large and lovely, decorated in snowy white lace and pale honey-colored wood. She could hardly believe her luck.
"You can start tonight," Sarah told her. "Come up to our room in half an hour and we'll say goodbye!"
Isabel, beaming with delight, nodded and skipped off to the nursery.
In their separate closets, Sarah and Drew began to dress for the evening. Sarah gave her husband a quick kiss. "We'd better make it an hour before we leave, instead, dear; I didn't realize my hair was such a mess. I'll tell Isabel."
"Sure, sure," Drew agreed amiably. His mind was still full of Isabel: her soft skin, her perky little breasts, that luscious ass....
Thirty minutes later, Isabel hurried back to the master bedroom and into Sarah's closet. The woman was standing there in nothing but a black lace thong and stockings. Her enormous tits were in full view: they looked even bigger now, capped with large dusky nipples that stood out nearly an inch from her skin.
Isabel's mouth dropped open as she stared. She couldn't help it. Sarah laughed quietly and Isabel turned lobster-red. "Oh! I'm so sorry!"
Sarah smiled and pulled the girl's pink-nailed hands away from her eyes. "Oh, don't be sorry! It's perfectly natural to be curious. I mean, our body types are so different.... Of course you're curious. Go on, take a look."
Timidly, Isabel's gaze rose back to Sarah's huge, swollen tits. Sarah smiled encouragingly. "Really, darling, it's fine. Don't be embarrassed."
"I didn't mean to stare," Isabel whispered, still mortified.
"Oh, it's nothing to worry about," Sarah soothed, her voice low and sweet as a summer thunderstorm. "Yours probably look quite different, I imagine?"
