Chapter 16: Teen Temptation

I'm sure it's obvious that my taste in women is catholic, not to be confused with Catholic, although I have no aversion to Catholics either. I knew, however, by the time I was into my thirties, that I liked them young with big tits although, so far, my young ones had mostly been so young that their breast development was limited. My secretary, Marlene, had awakened a sleeping monster within me and now submissiveness and timidity were added to my dream girl's qualifications, at least it did if the woman also liked being submissive, as Marlene seemed to. She, like my sub-teen conquests, was only modestly endowed, boob-wise but the furtive, lewd curiosity of a teenaged babysitter provided me with an opportunity to pursue my latest licentious desire.

Val and I, by that time, had two young children and this led, of course, to babysitters. These girls, and mostly we got girls, were usually cute and young but, although I'd screwed many girls as young or younger than they, I had not gone after a teenager, or at least, one younger than seventeen since before I had married. In fact, in retrospect, my cousin, Lucy, was the only teenager in that age category I'd ever had although I'd had more than my share of sub-teens, as the reader knows. But anyway, I was now a mature man, or so I believed.

Whether I was mature or not is open to question but our regular sitter for the past several months had attracted my lecherous attention. Belinda, despite her youth, was about 5'9" tall, somewhat overweight with very large breasts but, because of her height, she did not look fat. She seemed to be a polite, shy and obedient youngster but I hadn't had enough contact to know how docile or submissive she might be. Nor did I expect to find out. After all, she was our babysitter and her parents were our friends.

We returned late from the company Christmas party, both of us feeling the effects of too much alcohol. Val was bordering on unconscious, in fact, and as soon as we got home, I helped her upstairs to bed, not wanting Belinda, our sitter, to see her in that condition and then report on it to her parents. Not that they didn't already know that Val sometimes overindulged. After putting her to bed, Val, that is, not the sitter, I went downstairs again.

Normally I drove Belinda home after she sat for us but this time, knowing we'd be late and my driving skills questionable, we had agreed with her parents that she'd sleep over. We had a pullout sofa in the basement where she could sleep.

"So, how did they behave? Did they give you any trouble?"

"Oh no, Sir. They were very good." The girl looked at me with a strange expression, like she wasn't telling me everything, and I looked at her more closely. Damn, I mused, I wish I were younger so I could check her out. Probably already fucks like a mink, the way things are nowadays. My views were no doubt coloured by my own actions when I was her age.

"Are you sure, Belinda? Nothing happened, did it?"

"Oh no, Sir." Her pretty face flushed and she looked down at the floor. "They were... uh... like I said... perfect." Then when, furtively, she glanced at me, there was a strange look in her eyes, an apprehensive, almost frightened expression. What had happened? Had she done something wrong? Was she afraid I'd find out.

"You didn't have friends here with you tonight, did you?" Maybe she'd taken advantage of the opportunity to get it on with her boyfriend, if she had one, and as I surveyed her tall, shapely form, I couldn't imagine that she didn't have a boyfriend. She was wearing an old, threadbare terrycloth bathrobe that had been Val's and it was too small for her big, teenaged form. It came down only to mid-thigh and it barely closed across her buxom body, emphasizing the size of her breasts as well as the plump width of her hips. She certainly did not look like any fourteen year old I'd seen before and I felt a stirring in my groin. Damn, drunk or not, Val was going to get it tonight. I'd pretend she was Belinda, even though it would take some imagination to have Val's firm, slender shape and modest boobs match this cute teen's voluptuous charms.

"Oh Sir! Of course not. I didn't!" Her reply was defensive, more than was warranted, I thought. I looked around but saw no signs of company there, in the living room.

"OK," I replied. "I'd better check the furnace before I go to bed." That gave me an excuse to check the basement room where she was to sleep and I went to the basement stairs with the sitter following me. At the bottom of the stairs I looked around. No, nothing incriminating there, no glasses or condom wrappers.

"So, did you watch TV all evening?" I asked.

Belinda's face became even redder and she still didn't look at me as she replied, "Uh, yeah... that's what I did."

There's something wrong here, I thought, and then I saw something out of place. My wife and I, but mainly me, had a modest collection of pornography. Classical stuff, mostly, some Aubrey Beardsley prints, some Victorian erotica and that sort of thing. One exception, however, was a glossy magazine that graphically illustrated heterosexual sex in fine detail with large-breasted girls and hugely hung men performing vaginal, oral and anal sex. The collection was kept in the piano bench, under the music books. I'd been planning to find a more secure location but the kids were still too young for it to matter that much so I hadn't done anything. Now, as I looked around, I saw the corner of that lewd magazine projecting from under the top of the piano bench. So that was it. Belinda had found our porn collection and that's why she was acting so strangely.

"Did you learn anything new?"

"Uh, what do you mean, Sir?" but, as she replied she glanced over at the piano bench and saw what I had seen. Her face, already flushed, went scarlet as her eyes met mine for just a moment before she looked down at the floor.

"You know what I mean, Belinda." The thought of the big teenager studying those explicit, obscene pictures exacerbated my already aroused lust. How could I take advantage of her oversight in not putting the book back properly? "I didn't know you were such a sneaky girl," I said, trying to sound harsh. "I don't think your parents will be any more pleased than I am."

"Oh Sir. Oh no. Please don't tell them," she said in a meek, frightened voice that sounded especially so, coming from such a big girl. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have done it. And I didn't really look at it. Not when I realized what it was. Please... please don't tell them?" and I saw that her eyes were flooded with tears.

"I have to, Belinda. It's my responsibility." The girl clenched and unclenched her hands as she stood quaking before me. In her distraught state, she didn't notice that the tie on her robe had come undone and her robe was open. "It wouldn't be right, Belinda. I have to tell them. And, in my opinion, you should be taught a lesson. You know they'd agree with me, too, don't you."

"But? But, Sir? Can't you? Like? I'll do anything if you don't tell them. I'll babysit for free... I'll do anything." She was looking at me now, her tear-wet eyes pleading. "Can't you punish me or something, instead of telling them?"

"Why are you so scared of them, Belinda?" My gaze was fixed on her breasts, the large, fat fleshbags heaving and jiggling under her pajama top, the dark circles of her areola visible through the sheer fabric. God, they're big, I thought. And she's only fourteen. "Maybe I'd punish you worse than they would?"

"No... Yes... I know, Sir, but? Like? I don't mind. I'd die if they found out?" The youngster's full lips glistened moistly as she pleaded and I was becoming increasingly aroused by the servility of her begging. I knew then I just had to have her big, ripe, young body. Was she a virgin? It would be easier if she wasn't but it had been many years since I'd popped a cherry. My last one had been young Sally in college, if I didn't count maybe getting Irene's claimed virginity, but even that was four years ago.

"Well? I don't know, Belinda? I really ought to tell them?"

"Please... oh please sir," and Belinda dropped to her knees on the carpet, her hands clasped in front of her as if she was in praying to me. "You can punish me... spank me... anything... I don't care... just don't tell them, Sir? Please don't?"

The loose neck of her pajama top sagged open and, from my vantage point, standing above her, I could see her big, naked breasts jiggling and swaying as she knelt before me. My God. Yes! Her nipples were sticking out, too. Were my threats somehow turning her on? Did she see the bulge in my trousers? Did she now what she was doing to me? How was I going to get into her?

"Get up, Belinda," I said in a stern voice as I reached down to her. "I don't think you understand what you've done. How your behavior is making this difficult for me." I led her over to the daybed, which was open, the bedclothes mussed up as if she'd actually been screwed on it. Had the pictures turned her on? Had she masturbated? If she had, I doubted that it was because of the magazine since most girls, women, aren't turned on especially by pictures. "I really ought to call your parents right now."

"Please don't. Pleease. I'm sorry, Sir. I wish I hadn't done it." She sat on the bed beside me, her fat, round thighs pressed tightly together as if she surmised my lewd interest in what lay between them. "Are you going to spank me?" Her voice quavered and her lower lip trembled, on the edge of tears.

"Is that what you think you deserve?" Surely not? She was just too big to spank, even if she was only fourteen. But I'd spanked Marlene and she was in her twenties?

"N no... y yes... I don't know, Sir? I know what I did was wrong?" The girl edged away from me in fear.

"It would be wrong for me to beat you, Belinda. I really must call your parents. If they found out that I'd let you see those pictures and I didn't warn them... well... they'd be mad at me too. They might blame me for teaching you things?"