Chapter 4

Again, there was a component of awkwardness as we got up and, in unspoken agreement, went to my bedroom. My bed - my marriage bed - sat there, unmade since I got up and went to find that my whole world had changed.

“I could change the sheets,” I said, nervously.

“Don’t,” she said, as her fingers went to the button of her jeans. “I don’t care about that.” Unconsciously, perhaps, she wanted to appropriate what my wife had abandoned.

I got behind as I watched, frozen, while she got her jeans undone and pushed them down. She stood in only brief, flowered panties. They could have been viewed as little girl panties, but she didn’t look at all like a timid little girl. She paused to come to me and, almost carefully, reach for the hem of my T shirt. I let her pull it up and, finally, helped her get it off of my body.

I said before that I’m not buff. I don’t see myself as an attractive member of the male population, and I felt a little insecure as my upper body was exposed. Her fingertips landed on my shoulders and then drifted down and across my pecs, and suddenly I wasn’t worried anymore.

“Please take your pants off,” she said.

“I’m hard,” I said, nervously.

“I would hope so,” she replied.

Suddenly I felt the urge to kiss her again and I pulled her into my embrace. This kiss was warmer, longer, and I felt twinges of pain in my lips as we pressed together. Her hands went around me and slid all over my back while mine did the same to her. She pushed me away, almost violently, and panted, “Please get your pants off, Bob!”

While I did that she pushed her panties down and stood, awkwardly, clearly nervous as I got naked. Her pubic hair wasn’t dense, and showed a lot of skin beneath it. I sensed she had the same body issues as I did and when I stood up I tried to relieve her concerns.

“You’re so beautiful,” I sighed.

She blushed, and that pink stain started on her upper chest and rose to color her cheeks. She didn’t smile and, in fact, looked very serious.

“You’re in so much trouble,” I said as her eyes dropped to my manhood.

She crawled onto the bed and, for the first time, I got a look at her never-touched sexual opening. Her pussy lips were fat and oily looking. She flopped to roll onto her back. The only sign that she might still be nervous was that she kept her legs closed.

“No I’m not,” she said.

Then her feet came apart, almost in slow motion, spreading a foot. She signaled hesitant, but willing, surrender.

I was as hard as I’d ever been in my life, but I pushed away the desire to just take her and use her. Instead I licked my lips and, when I crawled onto the bed to join her, I moved her legs farther apart and dipped to feast on her pussy instead.

“Bob!” she squeaked as she realized what I was about to do.

I ignored her and licked her split.

“Bob!” she said again, but this time it was a groan that held no objection or censure.

I pushed her legs even farther apart and her knees bent so that her heels could dig into the covers as her hips pushed up at me. I knew it was pure instinct, but it made me leak.

Using my fingers I spread her fat lips to reveal a surprisingly large clitoris. It was standing proud, protruding from its protective sheath.

When I sucked it, her whole body jerked and she made noises that were not coherent speech. Her thighs slammed closed and I felt pain in my cheeks, but ignored it. This was worth the pain.

Her orgasm surprised us both, coming quickly and violently. It gripped her body and shook it like a cat shakes a rat. Her hands beat on the covers beside her knees and she wailed.

My desire to be inside her came just as quickly and violently and I moved up to let my prick hang above the opening I had so lovingly sucked.

“Are you sure?” came the question from the tiny, rational part of my brain that was still functioning.

Her answer was to reach and grasp my manhood for the first time. She’d never done this before, but instinct gave her the instruction to pull and seat the tip of my sexual organ in the opening of hers.

With the last shreds of conscious control, I pushed gently, easily, worried that she’d be too tight and that I’d hurt her.

Her fingernails landed on the upper swells of my ass and dug in.

Twin groans filled the air as I sank into her to my balls. I realized it was too fast as I did it, but I couldn’t help myself. Her groan held just enough of the sound of acceptance that my concern abated.

Part of me wanted to wait, to let her get used to this, but my control had been used up. She’d had an orgasm and my former rule to make sure Melody got her cookies before I got mine was satisfied.

I’ll be honest. I rutted in my young babysitter. I used her, feeling her tight walls squeezing my penis as I pounded her eagerly, in long, lusty strokes. I tried to smash into that fat clit with each lunge and her body language only spurred me on as her legs wrapped around me and her hands pulled at my back. Again she spoke the language that has no words.

And luckily, gloriously, just before I unleashed my own desire, she convulsed in another orgasm. Her vaginal walls knew what to do and milked me.

I went deep, froze, groaned, and fertilized my new lover.

As much awkwardness and hesitancy as there had been, off and on, prior to our act of sexual completion, the aftermath had none of that. I rolled off of her to avoid smothering her lithe, thin body and flopped to gasp for air. She did the same and I glanced at her to see those small breasts moving up and down four or five inches as she drew in deep breaths. Our hands chanced to bump into each other and hers gripped mine until our fingers intertwined.

Perhaps three of four minutes went by before either of us spoke and then it was she who spoke first.

“That was unbelievable,” she sighed.

“You’re not sorry?” I panted, gently.

She rolled to face me, trapping our still entwined fingers underneath us.

“I’ll never be sorry that happened,” she said. She kissed my shoulder. “Are you sorry?”

“I’ll only be sorry if I ruined your life,” I sighed.

“You didn’t ruin my life,” she scoffed.

“I guess we’ll find out,” I said.

“What does that mean?”

“I came in you,” I said. “I shouldn’t have done that. You’re not protected.”

She kissed my shoulder again.

“I’m not worried about that,” she said. “I don’t want you to worry, either.”

I assumed she was at a safe point in her cycle. There was no way she was on the pill.

“Okay,” I said. “We’ll be more careful next time.” I swallowed. “Assuming there will be a next time.”

Her eyes glittered.

“There better be a next time,” she said, firmly.

She flopped back down, but kept my hand in hers.

“I’m not a virgin anymore!” she said. “Wow!”

“Does it feel different?” I asked. I couldn’t remember what it had felt like when I lost my own virginity.

“Yes,” she said.

“How?” I asked.

She didn’t answer right away, but I knew it was a complex question so I just let her think. Finally she spoke.

“I had all these preconceptions about what it would be like. I’ve heard other girls talk about it, so I thought it would be like they described. But it wasn’t like that at all. It was like going on a ride at the carnival, where you get thrown around and you’re scared but elated at the same time. It didn’t hurt at all, even though you got violent. And even when you did get violent, I wasn’t afraid. It felt too good to be afraid.”

She rolled to face me again. Her face was animated.

“And it went too fast. It didn’t last long enough. You said you could stay hard a long time and get hard again quickly. That wasn’t a long time. How soon will you be hard again?”

Her eagerness made my groin ache as things tried to get going again.

“Patience,” I said. “It will happen in a bit.”

“It was so different from when you let me suck your tongue while I got off. I felt so full, but it felt like I was supposed to be full, you know?”

“Nope,” I teased. “Nobody ever did that to me.”

She stuck out her tongue just as the sounds of an unhappy baby drifted through the open door.

“Jordie!” she yipped. “We forgot about Jordie!”

She leapt up off the bed like a deer jumping a fence and dashed naked from the room. I lay there, comfortable and sated, and listened as Jordie’s cries terminated. I wondered if he was sucking the same thing I had so recently sucked, but now it didn’t matter. I wasn’t jealous of him anymore. She had made it clear there would be a ‘next time’.

I closed my eyes. My wife had left me. She’d left me for another man. I wasn’t even divorced, yet, and I already had a girlfriend. My mind rebelled at that thought. Girlfriend? Did she think of herself with that title? I doubted it seriously. Our relationship had changed, but I wasn’t sure what to call it now. I thought about our age gap. Others would say I was robbing the cradle. Fuck them. I wasn’t robbing anything. She was a grown woman and she had consented to every moment of the intimacy we had shared, both before and after our relationship had morphed into whatever it was now.

She came back into the bedroom cradling my son. He was sucking happily at the nipple on a bottle of milk.

“I’m leaking all over the place,” she complained.

I stared at the gap where her thighs met her hips. The light coming through that gap made her skin glisten.

“Want me to clean you up while you take care of him?”

“No, I want him to get finished and go to sleep so you can make me leak more.”

Now there was a definite twitch in things down below. Melody had always been eager to get filled, and it had fired me up on most occasions. Erica’s eagerness seemed different, somehow, but my reaction to it was the same.

“I’ll be ready when he goes down,” I said, confidently.

Her face broke out in a bright smile and she turned to take him back to the nursery. I waited.

“Bob?” I heard her call after what seemed like a long time.

“Yes?” I called back.

“Come here,” she commanded.

I got up and walked, naked, down the hallway to the nursery. She was standing there, rocking Jordie in her arms.

“He’s not cooperating. He’s wide awake,” she said. Her voice held a hint of complaint. “Get the swing and take it to the bedroom.”

“Seriously?” I smiled.

“Seriously,” she said, seriously.

I picked up the swing and she followed me to the bedroom. I set the swing up so he could see us if he wanted to and she put him in it.

“Watch carefully,” she cooed as she got him going. “You’re going to need to know how to do this some day.”

“Seriously?” I laughed.

She turned and put her hands on my shoulders. Her eyes were calm, untroubled.

“Seriously,” she said.

Then she led me back to the bed she had claimed as her own, pushing Melody’s former claim aside.

For her second foray into the world of sex, I had her get on top of me. I wanted her to have multiple orgasms and I knew I could go practically forever in this position.

She learned quickly how to use this position to maximum effect, though it took a while before her first orgasm shuddered through her. I think it was a combination of the newness of all this and the fact that I was intently watching her that delayed that first spasm. Sex doesn’t always have to be about eager seeking of an orgasm, either. Sometimes lovers just like the feeling of being joined.

To read this story you need a Registration + Premier Membership
If you have an account, then please Log In or Register (Why register?)

Support the author's future writing by purchasing this book from Bookapy

The Babysitter Seduced me!

Lubrican

$3.25