“So, uh...” I start trying to say to my wife as I drive us to a holiday party. “This new babysitter? What do you know about her?”
“Kaitlyn? She comes highly recommended, dear. You don’t need to worry about her corrupting our children or anything.” I glance in the rearview mirror as I change lanes. That wasn’t really what I was asking about—more, I want to know how much my wife knows about things. But she seems really calm and collected, which is a good sign.
“So, twins? What do her parents think?”
“Her mom’s over the moon, apparently. Sure, she’s not happy that Kaitlyn’s only fourteen, and she’s really not happy that she doesn’t know who the father is.” I think to myself: I know who the father is. Me.
Me. Me. Me.
See, about three months ago I picked little Kaitlyn up as a hitchhiker, and ended up pumping enough cum in her pussy to give her twins.
“But they’re already getting the nursery all put together, and have figured out how to make it all work. Her due date’s right after school lets out for the summer, so she’ll be able to have the kids and get them for a couple of months before going back to school.”
“At least she’s going back to school,” I say, because that’s the sort of thing a concerned adult man would say.
“And her mother can stay with the kids during the day. It’ll be tough, I’m sure, but they’ll make it through.”
“You know an awful lot about this,” I say as we stop at a red light. I look over at her, and see her shrug, still looking ahead.
“We talked a little on the way back. You know, aside from that little slip-up, she seems an upstanding girl.”
“I’ll bet,” I lie, thoroughly thrilled that my wife doesn’t know about what happened.
After we get home from the party, Kaitlyn runs through all the babysitter things—and does a spectacularly thorough job, I must add—then gets her things to go and puts her coat on.
Before my wife can grab her keys, though, I speak up. “I’ll drive her home.” I want a chance to talk with her privately. “You look tired, so why don’t you get some rest?”
“Okay.” I didn’t figure she’d put up much of a fight; with the kids all asleep, she’d get some real quiet time to herself. She likes that. “You need the address?”
“Nah, she can give me directions,” I say to my wife, then turn to the pretty high schooler. “C’mon, what was it again ... Kaitlyn?”
“Yep!” she says with a smile, and follows me out to my car.
Once we’re both in and I start it up, she speaks. “So, do you need me to give you directions, or do you remember?”
“I’m pretty sure I remember,” I reply, pulling onto the street.
“So you do remember me!” she laughs. “I remember you!”
I glance over at her. For the babysitting job, she’s just wearing stretchy pants and a long-sleeved blouse, buried beneath her winter coat. But she has her legs spread on the seat, and is rubbing on the outside of her crotch very slowly. “Is this all a coincidence, or... ?” I try to ask.
“Coincidence. I was more concerned with getting inside and trying to wash you out of me than remembering your license number or something.”
“Hell of a coincidence,” I growl. The sort of thing that only happens in those online sex stories I like to read.
“My mom volunteers as a coordinator for some of the local moms’ groups. You apparently have small kids and a wife who’s in one of those moms’ groups. What did you expect?” She shuffles around a little, her hand still playing with her crotch.
“Mmm,” I say, glancing at a side mirror. I’m taking the long route to her house. To talk. After a few moments of silence, I speak up. “So, twins?”
“Yeah.” I glance over enough to catch her flash me a shit-eating grin. “You done knocked me up good!”
“Definitely mine, then?”
“Oh yeah. No questions about it.” Obviously sensing my next question, she continued. “And no, I haven’t told a soul, just like I promised. Everyone’s a little confused, because it’s not like I’ve had any boyfriends or anything like that. I think Jenny might be able to guess, but we haven’t really talked about it.”
“Remember that whole buddy system I told you about, where a freshman gets paired with a senior? She’s my senior pair.”
“Oh yeah. Head cheerleader or something like that.”
“So ... since you haven’t told anyone.” This was the next worry on my mind. “You’re not pissed or anything that I knocked you up?”
“Oh, I’m plenty pissed,” she laughs. “You probably ruined my life, just like my dad ruined my mom’s.” Before I can ask: “she had me when she was in high school.”
“My wife says she’s thrilled about the babies.”
“I guess she’d rather that than an abortion or something. Because I’m not getting an abortion.” The edge in her voice tells me it’s not even worth arguing—not that I would. “And she remembers what it was like when she had me, and what people said and did. I think she doesn’t want that for me.”
“Mmm ... and your dad?” That was the one no one had mentioned yet.
“Never knew him,” she says. “My step-dad’s not exactly happy, but as long as I stay in school, he’ll be fine. Once I pop the twins out, I’m sure he’ll be more than fine.” She was rubbing her belly with one hand, and still her crotch with the other.
“But even though I’m pissed with you, which I totally am, I also kinda don’t mind, y’know?” She gives me another one of those grins. “I kinda always wanted to be a teen mom, and now I get my wish.” She looks out the window. “Hey, can you pull over into that parking lot?”
“Sure,” I say, doing so. It’s pretty well abandoned this time of night; we’ll have some privacy. “Why?”
“I want to thank you for picking me up that evening.”
My cock is stirring in my pants. “How?”
“I want to give you that blowjob I never got to. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” I say, killing the car and then unbuckling my pants.
She’s already down there, leaning over from her seat. Her hands find my zipper and quickly free my rock-hard cock. “Oh, so this is the monster that put babies in me ... I can’t wait to taste your seed!”
Quick as a whip, she slides the head and part of the shaft into her mouth, one hand on the remainder of my shaft, and begins to bob her head.
For a freshman in high school, she’s damn good at giving a blow job.
“Done this before?”
“Nope,” she says, taking a breather. “Just seen a lot of porn.” And then she’s back at it. Her tongue finds the underside of the head, and my cock twitches.
“Jesus. You keep this up, and I’m going to be pumping twins down your throat!” I had actually kinda vaguely been planning on trying to have sex with my wife this evening. She’s been complaining lately that we just don’t have sex anymore—which is true—and I figure I owed her that much. It was going to be my first lay since, well, knocking this little tart up.
And now this little tart is giving me a blowjob in an abandoned parking lot, and with wild abandon. She wants it, for sure.
I can’t handle it. I haven’t masturbated in a couple of days—saving up to make it easier to have sex with my wife—so I’m already on edge. And then this amazing little throat... “Oh fuck!” I grunt, my hands gripping her hair as I try to push her down and stab my twitching cock into her throat.
“Mmm,” she hums happily as I feel a blast of cum race up my shaft and into her lovely teen mouth. I hear her swallowing, but I’m more taken by the explosion of pleasure in my cock as I pump another spurt into her throat. And then another. And another. My cock just keeps spasming, and she’s swallowing like a champ.
“Ahhh...” I groan as I finish cumming. She waits a few more seconds, then slides her mouth off my cock and gives a cute little giggle. “That felt good.”
“I’m glad,” she says with a smile. “And now that I’ve helped you relieve your blue balls ... there is something I want to ask you.”
I put myself back together and turn on the car. “I’m not marrying you. I’m married with kids—I won’t say happily, but it’s almost there—and I’m not giving that up.”
“Oh no!” she says, putting a hand over her mouth. “I would never ask you to do that! Your wife and kids are lovely, and I don’t want to take them away from you!” A sly grin spreads across her face. “But I think it’s okay if you sometimes take me home after I babysit, and it takes a little while, if you know what I mean.”
I pull out onto the road, and glance at the clock. Yeah, I need to be dropping this little sweetheart off before my wife starts wondering where the hell I am. “I think I can manage with that,” I say. “So what did you actually want to ask me?”
“It’s about Jenny. You know, the senior I’m paired with?”
“Uh-huh,” I say, wondering where this is going.
“Well, she likes to make fun of how big my belly already is ... and how big it’s gonna be, especially with twins.”
All the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, but I keep with it. “Uh-huh.”
“And well, she graduates in five months. And I’d love to see what her large belly looks like under graduation robes.” She giggles evilly.
“What does this have to do with me?”
“I think you know.”
“I don’t want to actually rape anyone. Especially someone who’s likely to turn around and pillory me.”
“No more than you raped me,” she says with a smile, though I can see the edge behind it. “If you’re onboard, I can manage the details. Just get my number from your wife and text me, okay? We can plan something fun.”
I spend a couple of silent minutes thinking about it as we drive to her house. She doesn’t pressure me, though I notice that she’s still rubbing her crotch. Most girls complain about also wanting the guy to give her attention—my wife certainly does—but this little high schooler was perfectly happy not to.
If it weren’t a terrible, terrible decision to abandon my family, I wouldn’t have minded taking this girl under my own wing.
I guess the fact that she was carrying two more of my children clouded my thoughts a little. But I did want to help her. And if she thought the best way of doing that was fucking another teen pussy?
Well, who was I to say no?
“Okay, I’ll do it,” I say as we pull up to her house.
“Great, thanks! Text me!” she says, getting out of the car then giving me a wave. More dignified than the last time we were in this position.
I wait around long enough for her to get inside before driving away.
“What took so long?” my wife asks, half-asleep in bed. I’m undressing, having just gotten home from dropping off Kaitlyn.
Traffic seems like a bad excuse, so I figure use my best defense: tell a piece of the truth. “We had a talk about her choices in life, and about the pregnancy.”
“Mmm, you’re such a good role model,” she says.
I sequester myself away in the bathroom, pretending to take a shit, but instead rub another one out while remembering Kaitlyn’s magnificent blowjob. It doesn’t take all that long.
Yeah, I think I can make this work.
By the time I get back into bed, my wife is sound asleep.
Over the next couple of days, Kaitlyn and I text. Mostly light stuff, though she occasionally peppers it with pictures of herself. Usually naked, often showing off the baby bump. I admire them for a few minutes then delete them because it’s just a stupid idea to have them around. And I’m too lazy to get Snapchat or whatever the new hotness for sending pictures is these days.
Then she texts me, “Jenny ovulates over Christmas Break! 🍆💦💦💦🍑🔜🤰🏻”
I don’t know that I want to ask how she knows this information, so I leave it, and let her know by text that I do work over her Christmas Break. Our vacation overseas this year ate up pretty much all of my vacation time.
We text back and for the next couple of days, and finally figure out a plan.
Now, just to see if she can deliver the goods.
It’s a couple of days after Christmas. I head to work in the morning, like I usually do. It’s hard for me to concentrate all morning, because I’m thinking about that afternoon’s festivities, but I give it my best shot.
For lunch, I eat leftovers of the casserole my wife made last night, and I work through lunch. It’s true that I don’t have that much vacation time—but it’s worth spending some of it this afternoon.
Not that I’m telling my wife that I’m taking it off. And my coworkers think that I’m taking a day off to spend time with my family.
It’s just that it’s my second family I’m spending time with.
I drive over to Kaitlyn’s house, arriving right on time with when she said. Her mother has a big moms’ group thing this afternoon and evening, and her step-father works, so she’ll have the house to herself.
I drive by and notice that there is another car parked out front that I haven’t seen before. Probably Jenny’s. So far, so good.
I park around the corner—don’t want to attract too much attention—and text Kaitlyn that I’m there. She texts back a moment later to let me know to let myself in the back, like we planned.
I casually walk around to Kaitlyn’s house, and acting like I know what I’m doing, go in through the gate to the backyard and enter the house.