David Crane - Wide-open babysitter

But all she had at the moment was her hand and she massaged her juicy cunt lovingly. She bunched the four fingers of her other hand together, making a phallic shape, and pushed them into her mouth, pretending they were a prick and sucking on them. They were too dry. She switched hands, pushing her cunt-juice smeared digits into her mouth. That was better – but not at all like the real thing, of course. Then James shot his wad.

Belinda watched Amanda suck it out and gulp it down and her pussy creamed in her hand, the heavy flood soaking her crotch and running down her thighs. She slumped against the wall. She watched Amanda use her tongue to gather up a few stray drops of spunk and saw her let them slip around on her tongue as she looked in the mirror.

Belinda got up, her legs shaky.

She fastened her shorts and slipped back downstairs.

Coming in her hand had only served to make her hornier than she had been.

Amanda and James came down a few minutes later.

Belinda could not help but stare at the woman's mouth, which she had so recently seen while it was stuffed, full of huge prick and hot jism.

And Amanda, in turn, stared at Belinda, amazed at how nubile the girl was.

"The baby is asleep," she said. "I don't expect you'll have any trouble." She scribbled on a note pad. "I'll give you the number of the place we'll be, just in case."

It gave James a great idea.

But he had to get them out of the room.

He said, "You'd better introduce her to Brutus, honey."

"Oh, yes," Amanda said. "We didn't know if you were afraid of dogs, so we shut him in the back porch. But he's friendly, if you want to let him in."

She took the girl to the back of the house.

The moment they were out of the room, James reached down and tore the telephone wire from the wall. He left it lying there. He grinned fiendishly. Later, he would suggest that Amanda call home to make sure all was well. When there was no reply, he would suggest that he could run over to check and that Amanda needn't bother to come. Alone with the girl – well, he would just have to see how it turned out. And later he could explain to Amanda that someone must have tripped over the telephone cord and accidentally pulled it loose.

He felt Machiavellian.

On the enclosed back porch, Belinda patted the dog. Brutus was a large mongrel, friendly and energetic. He lapped at her hand affectionately.

Belinda was not afraid of dogs. Nor was she, at the moment. But events were moving in a fashion that were going to cause the girl to think creatively very soon, for she needed some prick in the worst way.

As they left, James gave the girl a long look, behind Amanda's back. Belinda smiled at him.

As soon as their car drew away, she went to the telephone to call Tommy.

But the phone, of course, was dead…

Tommy sat beside the telephone, looking glum and feeling morose, his prick as hard as a nail.

Why hadn't she phoned?

Maybe the bitch was a cockteaser, after all!

Well, no – she wasn't a cockteaser, he knew. She had given him a nice handjob.

He guessed that the family she was baby-sitting for wouldn't allow her to have visitors. That had to be it. But it didn't make him feel any better. He supposed that he would be able to see her again in the near future – like the next day, he hoped – and that his quest for a fuck had received only a temporary setback but, in his frenzied need, it seemed about a year until the next day.

He knew where the Jenkins lived.

He debated going over there anyway. If he had, he would have been more than welcome and he would have gotten a blow job and a fuck without the slightest problem. But Tommy did not know that and he did not want to do anything that might make Belinda angry with him – like showing up uninvited – and endanger his future chances at her pussy.

Presently, unable to wait any longer, Tommy sighed and went up to his bedroom.

He got a copy of Playboy magazine from his dresser and opened it to the centerfold. He placed it on his bed, opened out. Then he knelt on the bed, on top of the picture, which was of a dynamite redhead with a juicy snatch. Tommy opened his jeans and pulled his prick out. It throbbed and twitched. He wrapped his hand around the root and aimed the bulging head at the paper pussy.

He began to push-pull on his prick.

His cockhead bounced on the picture and he whacked away with expertise and, within a very short time, his balls blew and he hosed the picture down with a great wad of spunk that slipped around on the glossy page like mercury.

He kept pulling and his prick kept coming and he filled the page with hot jism.

Then he sighed.

It had taken the pressure off and he felt a little bit better, but it sure wasn't like the real thing was going to be.

He got a tissue and carefully mopped up the picture, which was his favorite, so that it would be virginal – sort of – when he had to fuck it again.

It took a lot of mopping, for he had come with abundance, and, it saddened the lad to think of all that jism that had gone to waste – jism that could so easily have been put to good use in Belinda's cunt or mouth.

But one man's loss is often another's gain.

When Belinda found that the telephone was not working, she was distraught. How could she summon Tommy? She looked out the windows and saw, that the houses on either side were dark. There was no telephone booth in the neighborhood and, a dutiful baby-sitter, she did not want to leave the child alone while she searched for a phone. It was tremendously frustrating. She almost wished that she had not seen Amanda sucking James' cock, for it had made her desperately horny for some cock of her own. Any cock would do, she thought. She wished that a door-to-door salesman would stop by – but, like cops, salesmen are never around when you need one.

Unhappily, she resigned herself to her own devices.

She began a frantic search for something with which she could fuck herself.

She began in the bedroom, looking through all the drawers, hoping to find a vibrator or a dildo. But there was nothing of that nature there. It figures, she thought, wryly – with a cock like her husband has, why should she want a dildo? But that was doing Belinda no good.

She looked in the bathroom.

They did not even, have an electric toothbrush.

The distraught nymphette racked her brain as she tried to think of what she could use as a substitute prick.

She went back downstairs and looked in the kitchen.

In the refrigerator, she discovered a big salami. It was just about the same length and circumference as James' cock, she thought. It would have to do. She grinned at the thought that, later and innocently, sexy James Jenkins would be eating that salami, ingesting her cunt juice by proxy – and Amanda, as well – those sweet lips that she had seen pulling on his prick would be swallowing a cunt-juiced salami. It was a rather erotic thought – better than nothing.

But not as good as prick.

She took the salami into the living room.

She opened her shorts and squirmed out of them, then pushed her panties down. Her cunt was frothy, her clit standing out stiff and vibrant. She sat in a comfortable chair and hooked one knee over the armrest, letting the other leg trail out on the floor.

She spread her cuntlips wide open with her fingers and began to rub the end of the salami around in her creamy slot. She pushed it up, inch by inch, smiling as she felt the fat link stuff her cunt to the brim.

She began to salami-fuck herself slowly and leisurely, pushing it far up and pulling it out while her cunt muscles sucked on it.

It felt pretty good.

But it was not the real thing and there was no load of sweet jism to spurt out of it.