A Little Too Easy

by Stepdaddy

Copyright© 2010 by Stepdaddy

Erotica Sex Story: My sass-mouthed fourteen-year-old babysitter walks right into my trap.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   Coercion   Babysitter   .

I can tell you what wasn't a surprise: the size of her fat little cunt. Katie had worn spandex often enough for me to develop a pretty good image of how that prominent cameltoe would appear when exposed. I had been right; her sparsely-haired vulva was the very image of that overused but nonetheless apt metaphor, a succulent peach.

Her breasts, now bared, were the sweet muffins I had imagined them to be. Granted, her impudent pink nipples were much larger than I had noticed before, steepling heavenward in their stiff arousal. Curiously, I hadn't spotted their pebbly prominence before, even though she seldom wore a bra under her tight tops.

Certainly it was no surprise that the sass-mouthed babysitter was not a virgin. Even though she was only fourteen, it was practically a given that a girl like her – single parent home, bad attitude, smart-ass – would have been despoiled by now, probably at the hands of a slightly older boy. And the way she behaved, I would rather expect that that unknown pioneer had merely been the first of many.

Yes, it is true that I was mildly surprised to find that despite this likely history, her vagina was a deliciously snug fit around my drilling joint. I would have supposed with the way she carried herself and shook her whorish ass around that she was a total slut. No doubt, in fact, she was. Clearly, however, the elasticity and recuperative powers of her youth had thus far served to prevent such adventures from diminishing the delight of my uninvited incursion.

In fact, as that athletic young sleeve clutched at me in oily embrace, it was none of these observations that brought me wonder. What did surprise me, as I hastened the pace with which I plundered the teen-aged babysitter's slobbering fuckbox, was how easy it had all been.

Katie had been sitting for me for about six months. At fourteen she was a little young, but since my daughter was eight years old, I thought that the sort of emergencies that might arise would fall within her capabilities. As a divorced father with full custody, I was in the position to make such decisions.

Katie exhibited an attitude right from the start. She had problems with authority – that much was clear. And she used very regrettable language at times. Both traits would hardly recommend her as a caretaker, let alone as a role model, for my little girl.

However, Katie had her good traits, several of them. Well, to be more correct, she had several traits that really all added up to the same appealing characteristic: she was a glorious little piece of ass.

She was a small girl, with a tight waist and a usually bare belly. She had a cute bubble butt and, like I said, a prominent pussy mound. Her tits were small, but mesmerizing, and she had a pixie's face.

But far more significant than her obvious physical attributes was her attitude. She talked and acted like she was just daring you to throw her on the couch and fuck some respect into her. I'm sure she did this to irritate her teachers and to put the male ones, at least, back on their heels.

I'm not sure why she copped that tone with me – after all, no one was making her baby-sit for me or take my money – but perhaps she kept it up full time to keep her game sharp. Well, whatever her motives, the effect was simple. I so enjoyed her sluttishness that despite her shortcomings, I hired her just tease myself with the ongoing fantasy of grudge-fucking her.

It had been easy, perhaps too easy, but what the hell, look where I was – pounding my pelvis against the plump padding of her pouty pudding-hole.

It hadn't taken long for a mere fantasy to take shape as a plan. Since very early in her tenure as my babysitter, I had taken to leaving cash in various quantities strewn around the house in a seemingly careless fashion. You know, a couple of twenties on the mail stand, a mix of ones, five and tens on my dresser, and so forth.

Each night when I returned, but before I paid her and sent her home, I would subtly scan each cash cache to determine if she had taken the bait.

Tonight she had – thirteen dollars from the top of my dresser, having craftily left twenty-three other dollars undisturbed. But she hadn't been quite crafty enough.

"Katie, come into the bedroom for a minute please!"

"Yeah, what?"

"Yeah, thirteen dollars, you little thief."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

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