Steve Golden - Open wide babysitter

John didn't move. He simply let his fingers shift inside her cunt and stared at the reddened spike of his prick as it flexed in her fist. There was a strange numbness creeping over him and he felt if he moved he'd break some kind of spell. There were tremblings and twitching in his balls. He knew he should warn her, but he couldn't say anything.

"It's so big! It's so hard!" she gasped, never once missing a beat with her slender fingers. His foreskin made wet snapping sounds as it slipped back and forth. His balls felt heavy. They felt like lumps of lead in his crotch. He was going to cum any second and there was nothing he could do about it. It was no use warning her now. He couldn't stop it. Her hand on his cock was light and gentle and loving. He couldn't have told her to stop to save his life. He stared down helplessly at her hand, knowing what had to happen.

And suddenly he groaned out loud and pulled his fingers from her gaping wet cunt. He made a gesture toward his cock with his hand, as if he wanted to grab it from her. But then he let his hand hang to one side while he jerked his hips forward. He began to piston his crotch in and out and his prick slid through the cradle of her fingers.

She glanced at him quickly, wondering what was wrong. Her eyes rolled from his cock to his face and back again. She was about to open her mouth to say something, to ask him if she was hurting him or something. Then his cock trembled in her hand and she stared at his winking cockhead. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

His cock twitched again in her fist. It seemed to recoil. And suddenly a jet of cum nearly three feet long shot out from the winking cock tip. She watched the jet rise up into the air, saw it hang suspended for a second. Then she felt and heard it splatter across her naked body from her navel to her shoulder in a white glittering line.

"Cunning! Shooting hot cum all over you!" he groaned as he glared down helplessly at his twitching prick.

The first cum-jet formed a large figure S on Patsy's body. It started at her left shoulder, curled around her left tit, then swerved in the opposite direction over her rib cage and belly till it looped over her navel. The spunk glittered on her brown skin like trail of silver paint.

Now another jet spurted free, and this one went skittering up her belly and between her tits like a rope shot from a harpoon. It was just as long as the first jet, but thicker. It splattered her belly and rib cage in an inch-wide stripe and looped over her right tit like a broken string of pearls. Part of it caught in her hair and hung there weirdly.

"Can't help it! Fuck, can't help it!" he groaned, as if he wanted to apologize. His hips pistoned back and forth crazily.

But Patsy couldn't take her hand off his spurting cock, even though she was getting drenched in cum. She tugged on it like a lifeline, pumped it wildly. And she couldn't take her eyes off it as it shot off glob after glob of steaming ball-juice. The whole weird process fascinated her.

Another jet of cum sprang free, twirling in the air like a silver ribbon. It fell clattering across both her tits, looping from one stiff nipple to the other in a sticky elastic rope. Her nipples were swollen to nearly inch-long stubs, and the spunk hung off them like a lacy piece of underwear. Then the fizz tumbled and fell down her tit globes and onto her belly. It poured down toward her crotch.

"So much cum! So much!" Patsy marveled. She yanked and tugged on his cock, her fingers webbed together with oozing slime. She wondered how much more there was to shoot. A ribbon of cum shot off across her left tit then bounced up to splash her under her chin. She felt the warm jet coat her throat and then drool down onto the hollow of her neck. Then she saw the stream of white pour down between her tits like milk. It ran down the center of her belly and slopped into her navel. The first streams of cum had reached as far as her pussy hair.

"Oh fuck!" he croaked, twitching his cock forward. And one more thick jet of cum shot clear, this one too splattering across her tits like silver paint.

Cum dripped from her nipples like milk. It poured down the globes of her tits from her neck and shoulders. It drooled down her belly and further. She was streaked with it, shiny and-slick with it. It looked as though someone had been daubing heavy globs of white paint across her belly and tits with a brush. She was awash with spunk.

Yet she still pumped his cock. And the dregs of his cum poured out over her hand and landed in splattering circles on her thigh. She didn't slow down her hand movements till she was sure he had quit spurting. And even then she pumped him steadily, making sure she milked out the last of it.

"Oh fuck, Patsy, I'm so sorry," he groaned. "I couldn't help it. Your hand… you were jerking me off so good."

His hips had stopped pumping and he heaved to one side now, sank deep into his seat. He felt drained, as if the life had been pumped out of him. He stared guiltily at Patsy's splattered body and couldn't look her in the eye. He couldn't believe he'd cum so hard or shot so much. She'd really given him the best hand-job he'd ever had.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I couldn't help it."

Patsy sighed. Why did he have to apologize? He hadn't fucked her, which was true. Her pussy was still wet and unsatisfied and she was still a virgin, unless having his fingers up her cunt counted. But in a way this had been more interesting and exciting. She had seen the power of a male spurting cum up close. She would know what to expect in the future.

If she was ever going to get fucked properly, Patsy decided, it would be with an older man. Boys like John were okay, they were nice and everything. But they probably didn't have the experience and the self-control that middle-aged men did. And for the time being she needed someone to show her what to do. She was learning a lot about cocks, but she still had a lot more to learn, she realized.

Unfortunately, Mr. Warren seemed to have disappeared for the moment. She wondered if he were out of town on business or simply avoiding her. If her parents or his wife ever found out what had happened between them there would be hell to pay, and he was probably just laying low. Still, it was hard for Patsy to know who to turn to in the meantime.

Two days after she'd whacked off John she was babysitting for the Kendalls. Mr. Kendall wasn't very attractive. He was fortyish and balding. But when he burst back into the house just half an hour after he and his wife had left for a night out, Patsy began to get ideas. He said he'd forgotten something but she wondered if he really had. He'd been looking at her with special interest the past few weeks, she'd noticed.

She was watching TV, bored and restless, but now as he went off to the bedroom in search of whatever it was he'd forgotten she stood up and paced back and forth nervously. After a few seconds thought she found herself following him. She didn't know what she wanted to do or say, but she couldn't stop herself. She stopped in the doorway of the bedroom and watched him as he rummaged through several drawers, cursing to himself.

"What is it you've forgotten?" she said, leaning on the doorjamb. "Can I help you look for it?"

"It's nothing important. Just something my wife wants…" he said. He turned to look at her and stopped what he was doing.

Patsy had begun to wear a little make-up whenever she could, when there was little chance of her mother seeing it. Tonight her eyes had a bluish tinge around the lids and her mouth was wet and shiny with some red gloss. Not only that, but she'd also stopped wearing her bra whenever possible. And now her big tits swelled out the front of her tight T-shirt like ripe melons.

Kendall seemed to see her for the first time. His eyes dropped from her sweet young face to the swelling mounds of her tits and he saw her nipples jutting up inside the cotton material. The shirt wasn't quite tucked into her jeans and he could also see a slice of flat golden belly.