David Crane: Wide-open babysitter

Belinda Roberts was young.

She was a schoolgirl, of course, and it was just as well that she went to a modern, permissive school that did not have a dress code, because she was in the habit of wearing clothing that emphasized her nubile body. It annoyed her female teachers, but there was nothing they could do about it in this permissive society, except frown at her and – quite possibly – feel a bit envious of her youthful and sexy charms. It intrigued her male teachers, who sometimes got hard-ons in class and had to hide behind desks and charts until the condition went away. And it positively delighted her female gym teacher, who was known to have lesbian inclinations.

It also excited the boys in her class, disrupting the learning process to an inordinate degree.

Today she had excelled herself.

She was wearing a cotton tee-shirt that was two sizes too small and left little to the imagination. She wore no bra and the shirt was molded to the thrusting outline of her firm tits and peaked over her stiff nipples. The tee-shirt was tucked into a pair of jeans that had been cut off at an angle high up the thighs. The jeans were as tight as the tee-shirt. They fit her juicy little ass like a coat of paint and, at the crotch, were dragged up into a vee – as if her cunt was pulling them in by suction. This outfit would have been sexy on anyone – on a girl built like Belinda, it was stunning.

She was tall for her age and most of her height came from her long, smooth, shapely legs. Those legs seemed to stretch forever from the floor to the tiny pussy cover of her shorts, and when she crossed them it was not impossible to peer up the leghole of those shorts and catch a climpse of crotch. She crossed her legs frequently.

She was slender, but her tits jutted out firmly proudly. They were not awfully large as, tits, but her slim torso they looked larger than they were and her nipples, perfectly outlined in her shirt, were perpetually stiff. Her ass was a teardrop, flowing out from her waist and cutting sharply in to the backs of her thighs and those shorts were cut off so high that the bottom of her asscheeks tended to be seen.

Belinda had blonde hair, which she wore in a tumbled mane, cascading to her shoulders. Her face, framed in that wild golden cascade, was as sexy as her body. She had big, blue eyes that should have looked innocent, but instead looked knowing and sultry beyond her years. Her mouth was wide, the heavy lower lip turned outwards in a pouting Bardot fashion. She could look at a man – or a lesbian – in a way that would melt a heart and harden a prick on the spot.

And Belinda was no phony.

She had already fucked three boys.

She hadn't fucked Tommy Harris yet, however, and Tommy had high hopes. He'd felt a few girls up but he had never dipped his wick, and he was hopeful that Belinda would rectify that situation, for he had beard that she was inclined to open her legs.

He waited for her outside school.

Out came Belinda, her hips swinging a lot more than was necessary for propulsion. She had a sort of swaybacked posture, so that she came at a man with her tits pushed out and her loins tucked in and walked away from a man with her ass thrusting back, as if that heart shaped masterpiece were reluctant to leave his company.

Tommy waited by the statue in the middle of the broad walk that led up to the school. The statue was of a local politician of days gone by, but no one, except possibly the history teacher, knew that. Tommy tried to look casual, as if he had just been hanging around. He watched Belinda approach from the corner of his eye.

His cock began to tense.

He didn't know how to approach her.

He wished that he had a cigarette, so that he would appear worldly and that, by offering her a smoke, he would have an excuse to address her.

But such things weren't necessary with Belinda.

She knew how desirable she was and she knew exactly why Tommy was standing there.

Belinda was agreeable.

She didn't have a boyfriend at the moment and Tommy was a good-looking young man who, if the bulge in his jeans was not deceptive, had a big prick.

She walked straight up to him and smiled.

"Oh, hello," he said, just as if he hadn't seen her coming. He stuck his hands in his his pockets, just to get them out of the way. But that action tightened his jeans and threw his crotch into prominence.

"Hi, Tommy," she said.

He was taller than she was. Her gaze slid down his torso and stopped, unabashedly, at his groin.

Tommy's cock got bigger. Oh boy! thought the lusty fellow.

"Want me to carry your books?" he asked.

"Sure."

She handed him the books. He fumbled with them. He wasn't sure if he should hold them down low enough to hide his growing hard-on or not.

They walked off side by side.

The path was wide but Belinda moved close to him, so thr her hip brushed against him with every stride. They made small talk about school. Each time she said something, Belinda turned toward him, twisting from the hips, so that her tits brushed his arm. Tommy began to sweat.

His prick was getting bigger and bigger. Belinda did not live far froth the school and Tommy figured that was just as well – a mile or two of this and his cock would be so large. That he would have to walk bowlegged, his cum-full balls like a saddle between his thighs and his big prick jutting up.

He had a vision of adorable Belinda riding his loins as if they were a bronco.

They turned onto her street.

Tommy summoned his courage and, not looking at her, said, "Say, I was wondering, Belinda – if you aren't doing anything tonight, maybe we could go to a movie or something?"

"I'd like that," she said.

His heart leaped. His prick leaped.

But then she said, "But I can't tonight, Tommy. I promised to baby-sit for the Jenkins family."

"Shit," he said.

They were at her house. She turned to face him. He was clutching her books tight to his chest, as if refusing to give them up.

She said, "Want to sit on the porch for awhile?"

"Okay," he gulped.

They went up the walk and up the steps. The porch was enclosed and shaded. She nodded at the swing and took the books from him. She went in the house. Tommy sat down on the swing, letting his breath out slowly. It looked as if he had a pretty good chance with her, he figured. A guy could never be sure, though. You could never really believe all the things that you heard. The guys all liked to boast and brag, about the girls they'd screwed and all, and maybe Belinda didn't really put out. Still, she sure acted like a girl that gave it away. Christ! He hoped she wasn't a cockteaser!

She came back out.

"My parents aren't home yet," she said, giving him a look that could only be described as suggestive.

She sat beside him. The swing shifted under their weight and his cock shifted under the weight of his desire.

"They both work, huh?" he said.

"Naw. Only my dad. But my mom goes out a lot, in the afternoons. I'm not sure but – well, I think maybe my mom has a boyfriend."

Tommy gulped.

He found it tremendously exciting to hear a girl talk about her mother that way.

She said, "When she comes home, she always has that sort of glow – like she's just been fucked."

Tommy almost fainted.

Belinda giggled.

He said, "How, how can you talk about your mom like that, Belinda?" and then, before he had even thought about it, he said, "I hear that you fuck."

He bit his tongue.

Christ! He hoped he hadn't offended her!