Selena Kitt - Babysitting the Baumgartners

“That’s it, baby!” Doc moaned, and I saw him bucking against her. “God, I want to fuck you.”

My fingers eased between my swollen lips, rubbing at my clit as I watched her straddle him, wrapping her legs around his waist. I couldn’t see anything with the water rushing around them, but I knew he was sliding his cock up inside of her from the way their eyes closed, the way they moved together, a little different rhythm from the waves that rocked me up and down on the float.

She wrapped herself around him, biting his shoulder, digging her nails into his back. He turned with her in his arms, so her back was to me, and I saw his face, his eyes closed as he fucked her. My clit asked to be rubbed harder, faster, and I did. I couldn’t help it. I watched them openly now, working my hand under my tummy, between my legs, feeling that familiar tug and swell.

“I’m gonna come!” He pulled her hard into him, and I came, too, quivering and gasping, trying not to make any noise at all as a white, pulsing heat filled my body. I imagined his cum shooting up inside ofme, the feel of his cock throbbing as he came, and when I opened my eyes I saw him looking at me. He kissed Mrs. B’s shoulder, her neck, but his eyes were on mine and he smiled.

“Thank you, baby,” he murmured, nuzzling her. I bit my lip, shivering, sliding my hand out from between my legs, making sure he saw me. His eyes widened as I lifted my fingers to my mouth, sucking and licking them as he watched.

I was supposed to be taking Janie and Henry shopping with Mrs. B. That was the plan, mostly because Mr. and Mrs. B had a big party to go to that night and she didn’t have anything to wear, she said. The kids got bored quick, though, and I didn’t blame them. There were only so many Louis Vuitton purses and Gucci scarves an eight year old could stand to look at before getting whiny.

Frankly, I was starting to get whiny, myself, even after we took a distracting trip through the Disney Store for an hour or so. Mrs. B didn’t seem anywhere near ready to quit.

It wasn’t until we stopped for lunch that we all got saved.

“Oh my God, Maureen Holmes! Is that you?” Mrs. B stood up and I watched her kiss the air next to the cheek of a woman with short, stylish dark hair who had two children trailing behind her. They looked a little younger than Janie and Henry. There was also a girl about my age with a blonde ponytail holding their hands.

Small world-they were acquaintances of the Baumgartners from back home, and Janie and Henry jumped at the chance to have playmates their own age again. The older women chatted, and me and the blonde-her name was Gretchen and she was the Holmes’au pair, she told me-wrangled the kids.

As Gretchen and I talked, I realized that she actually got paid for doing for the Holmes’ what I was doing for the Baumgartners for free. When it was time to go, all four of the kids had a meltdown, and we stood around with the eyes of restaurant patrons on us, wondering what to do.

“Why don’t I take them all back to the house?” Gretchen suggested, smiling at Mrs. Holmes. “You can come pick them up later, Mrs. Baumgartner. I’m sure the kids would love to play together a while longer, and it would give you two a chance to catch up some more.”

And just like that, theau pair saved the day. The two women looked at her like she was wearing tights and cape with a big “S” on the back.

“Do you want to just go back to the house, Veronica?” Mrs. B asked me. “I’m sure Gretchen can handle the kids.”

And that’s how I ended up with the whole afternoon to myself. I walked home, since it was only half a mile, enjoying the sunshine. I went for a swim when I got back, then took a shower and painted my toenails. I called my sister, Amy, and my best friend, Jenny, back home. Then I curled up with a book on my bed and fell asleep and didn’t wake up until someone came in downstairs.

It was Doc. He called up to see if anyone was home, but I was still half-asleep and I didn’t answer. Really, it was just that I was still too flushed and embarrassed to reply. I’d been dreaming about Mrs. B lying on a towel on the beach. I was straddling her waist and pouring oil onto her breasts and rubbing it in. She was moaning and saying, “More on the nipples, Veronica. In circles.”

I almost fell back asleep, still imagining what it would feel like to run my slick hands over Mrs. B’s heavy breasts, when I heard moaning from downstairs. For a moment, I was caught in that liminal space between sleep and consciousness and thought it must be my dream.

Then I heard it again, a woman moaning, saying, “Fuck me! Harder! That’s it!”

I sat up in bed, tilting my head and listening. Was Mrs. B home? Where were the kids? Remembering the other night, when I stood outside of the Baumgartners’ room and watched Doc and Mrs. B together, I crept quietly down the hallway. The moaning was louder, now, and I could also hear music.

Then Doc’s voice, “Oooo yeah, baby.”

I sat on the first step, my breath held, trying to puzzle out what I was hearing. I slid quietly down a step, and then one more, looking through the banister. From my vantage point, I saw the television, a huge widescreen, flat-panel that made the already formidable Shrek seem a life-size ten feet tall. Shrek wasn’t on it, though-rather, a dark-haired girl in pigtails bent over the arm of a big, comfy chair, was being fucked from behind by an older man with an enormous cock.

And I had thought Doc’s was big…

I made an immediate direct comparison, because Doc leaned back on the sofa, his jeans pushed down his hips. His cock was hard, and he gripped and pumped it while he watched what was happening on the screen.

I stared, unable to look away as the girl put her leg up over the chair, giving the camera a better view. My exposure to porn had pretty much been limited to a few Internet pop-ups, so this was all new to me. I looked at the girl’s face-she looked young, probably my age, and she had a red lollipop she was sucking and licking on.

Her pussy was shaved completely, I noticed, and it glistened as his cock slammed into her. I felt the throb of my own shaved pussy when I squeezed my legs together. Doc pumped a little faster now, his other hand reaching down and cupping his balls. I bit my lip, seeing his eyes half-closed, the look of pleasure on his face.

My breath came faster as I unbuttoned my cut-offs, sliding the zipper down the teeth a notch at a time, afraid he might hear, even over the moaning and grunting on the television. As I watched, the cock which had been plunging into her slid out, pulsing and thick with her wetness. It was bigger than Doc’s but it reminded me of him, and my eyes flicked to his hand shuttling up and down the length.

“Put that big dick in my little pussy, Mr. Smith!” The girls voice was high and breathy. She reached back and spread herself open, the lollipop still in her hand.

“Yeahhhhhh!” The guy on the screen groaned as he shoved his cock back inside of her. “God, you’ve got such a tight little hole, baby girl.”

From the sofa, Doc groaned, too, his hand slowing on his cock, squeezing the tip hard. The girl’s pigtails bounced with every thrust, and she moaned and rocked. She reached her lollipop between her legs and the camera zoomed in on her bare slit as she rubbed it over and over her clit. I stared, feeling the pulse of my own clit.

I wedged my hand down into my cutoffs, fingers probing the moist heat of my pussy, so sensitive now that it was bald and exposed. Doc pumped his cock again, his hand gripping the top, moving the loose skin over the head. I saw the tip of it was a little wet and wondered what it tasted like.

Rubbing my clit was difficult like this because the seam of my cutoffs rode against my hand when I moved. I shifted, frustrated, as I watched Doc’s hand slip up under his shirt. He tweaked his nipple, groaning and thrusting upward.