Slut Babysitter.
Author note:
This is the third story I've written from email exchanges with a young woman from Nth Dakota. The first two were the stand-alone story 'Nicole Qualley', and the series 'Slave to Desire'. I think there's possibly a second story in this one, but I'll wait for the response before I decide. Unfortunately, the inspiration for these stories no longer responds to my emails, which is also the typical cycle. Once the arousal leaves the fantasy, the correspondent stops writing. I hope she sees this story and knows I'm grateful for the inspiration because it's somewhat difficult not to repeat yourself continually.
"Hmm," Eliza Johnson thought, peering through the fence between herself and the neighbouring property. A new family was moving in as she watched, and Eliza wanted to know who they were. She hoped for at least a late teenage girl of a similar age to her so they could be friends. A late teenage or early twenties guy would be better. 'Someone to play with,' Eliza giggled to herself. But her highest hope was for a thirty-five to forty-something father she could seduce.
Eliza loved dad bods and couldn't get enough of the grateful attitude the owners of those bods had when they discovered she was willing to share her sexy, shapely eighteen-year-old self with them. Eliza knew they weren't getting any from their harried wives, especially if that wife worked. At least her father wasn't, or so he regularly complained. She assumed they weren't either because of how readily other fathers had fallen under her spell.
Unfortunately, all Eliza could see was moving men lifting heavy-looking boxes from the truck into the house and an exasperated woman trying to control an around three-year-old toddler. The woman was ineffectually trying to direct where the men put the boxes and to keep her kid from running excitedly from the truck to the house with every load.
'Single mum?' Eliza wondered. She knew the house had been bought and not rented. Therefore, a couple made sense, but she was aware that the woman could be wealthy or have a well-paid job that would allow her to buy the million+ dollar house on her own. Eliza still held hopes for a husband, though.
Stepping back when the child ran too close, Eliza turned and examined herself in her house's sliding door's reflection. 157 cm (5ft. 2) tall and less than 46 kg (102 lbs). 32B breasts that looked big on her slender chest. Lustrous light-brown hair and blue eyes. Plus, Eliza's mouth, nose, and bright white teeth were similar to that of her idol, Margaret Qualley, Andie MacDowell's daughter. Eliza thought she had a slender, sensuously shapely figure as opposed to the big tits and asses the more popular girls at her high school had.
The boys at school had never interested her, though, so she never cared that the more generously endowed girls got their attention. Eliza was more interested in the male teachers than the male students, and since turning eighteen, she'd indulged in her preferences with some of them. Babysitting for these teachers and then asking the men to drive her home gave her chances to use her feminine wiles on them that she otherwise wouldn't have had.
Eliza ensured every married teacher, male or female, knew she was available to babysit for a reasonable fee with only enough notice to get to their place by the time required. She always dressed conservatively to relieve any anxiety the wives might have over their husbands being alone in a car with her. However, underneath her knee-length skirt and baggy top, Eliza always wore a matching bra and panty set that left little to the imagination. Suspenders and stockings only added to her hidden allure.
Giving up on waiting to see if there was a man along with the mother and child moving in, Eliza decided to visit her bedroom where her imagination could create what she yearned for. Carefully locking her bedroom door, Eliza slowly took off her tight, clinging T-shirt, imagining a tall, handsome father was doing it for her. She let it drop to the floor before turning and leaning back as if someone held her and bent her back for a kiss. She let her fingers stroke over her bra-covered, tiny but painfully erect nipples, wishing for a lover to do that for her.
Reaching behind her back, Eliza undid her bra and shrugged her shoulders, letting the soft pink bra fall beside her T-shirt. She inched backward, dreaming that her lover was kissing her as he manoeuvred her towards the bed. She let herself fall on her back and allowed her loose midi skirt to spill from her slender, shapely thighs to above her flat belly, exposing matching French-cut panties, already wet at her centre.
Her fantasy played out as she pulled her panty gusset aside and let her fingers slide over her shaved entrance and along her slit. Denying herself the ultimate pleasure of fingering her engorged clit, Eliza dipped her middle finger into her soaking pussy. After seven or eight languorous strokes along her slit and dips into her dripping cunt, Eliza imagined becoming impatient with her eager but unskilled older lover and shoving his finger into her pussy and showing him where her G-spot was.
"Yes!" Eliza hissed as her middle finger stroked her most sensitive inner node. Her other hand found her love button, and the twin sensations drove her towards her peak quickly. Her orgasm came when in her fantasy, the heavy-set man covered her petite body with his and pressed his thick cock against her cunt, demanding entry to her most intimate part.
"Eliza! Dinner!" her mum yelled from the lower floor.
Grimacing because she'd had her heart set on having more than one orgasm. Eliza yelled, "Coming!" before standing and adjusting her panties and skirt back to decency. She sniffed her T-shirt before deciding it would pass muster for the dinner table and putting it back on, not bothering with her bra. She skipped downstairs to join her two younger brothers and parents for dinner.
Dinner was passed in its typical way. Mum and Dad asked the required questions about their children's day while studiously ignoring each other. Eliza wasn't sure when the passion went from her parents' marriage, but she knew things were strained between them. It saddened her and made her wonder if they only stayed together for her and her brothers' benefit. If that were true, Eliza would rather they separated because she didn't want either of them to be miserable. They were good parents--loving and supportive most of the time and stern when required.
She still held part of the typical teenage girl infatuation with her father, but it had never been a sexual thing for her. She only imagined he would be happier with her as his wife than the coldness her mother exhibited toward him. Her Dad was a funny, caring man who deserved someone who would laugh at his somewhat childish antics and jokes instead of frowning and roiling their eyes. Life was serious for her mother, although Eliza remembered being younger and her mother joining in with her father's frivolities. She wondered why her mother had stopped.
Her mother interrupted her thoughts. "Stanley, are you going to fix that leaking tap and clean the fans as I asked you to tonight? Or are you going to sit in your office drinking beer as you usually do?"
