BabySitter’s Emotions

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Ass

Jack S Hanson was his name. Ha. The girls in the Baby-Sitter’s Club referred to him as Jack’s Handsome. I mean, that man was a honey. Hot? He raised temperatures on impressionable women where-ever he went. Young or old, they were all willing to cast loving eyes upon him.

I’m not sure what it was about him that made him look so attractive. Admittedly he was tall, about six foot, but a lot of men are that tall. Bushy black hair that seemed to have a soft sheen to it and dark blue eyes that just seemed to swallow you when he focused his attention on you. Again, so what? Dark hair and blue eyes are quite commonplace. Throw a rock into the street and you’d probably hit a dark haired man, they’re that common.

Maybe it was his physique. It was obvious that he must work out at a gym somewhere as he was trim and fit. Not skinny. Trim, but with some beef behind it. I imagined that if he flexed his muscles he’d have a lot of muscle to flex. A straight roman nose and firm sensual lips, his face wasn’t what you’d call conventionally handsome but he certainly managed to look distinguished.

I saw him in jeans once. Reasonably tight jeans, at that, and he certainly looked studly. A very neat bottom, not that I noticed, not being the sort of girl to go around admiring a man’s bottom. Still, one couldn’t help wondering about the various attributes of some men.

He was one of these men where you couldn’t really define what his appeal was. It was just that there was a sort of charisma to him, helped by the fact that he was genuinely nice and kind. Kids and kittens probably ran up to him to be patted. He was trustworthy. Some of the girls were probably irritated by that trustworthiness but that was just them.

He was also single which leaves you asking the question as to why the Babysitter’s Club talked about him. It’s because he has a married sister who does have children. Sometimes he has the kid’s for the weekend and occasionally he has to go out on one of those weekends. That’s when he calls the Babysitter’s Club.

The girls in the clubs all take turns being the contact point for people wanting a sitter. By an odd chance I was the contact point when Jack required a sitter. I was happy to inform him that I could sit for him on the coming Friday night.

I fronted up on Friday night just as Jack was putting the kids to bed. They knew me as I’d met them before and I didn’t think they’d be any trouble. Well, not too much trouble, but kids always try to push the boundaries. It’s what kids do.

Anyway, Jack tucked them in and we left them to go to sleep.

“Thanks for coming over, Patti,” he said. “We’ve got a team meeting and I have to be there. Honestly, some of the parents come up with the strangest complaints. One woman wanted all matches deferred for six weeks because her son had a broken leg and wouldn’t be able to play for that length of time. She didn’t take it well when I pointed out he couldn’t play even when he didn’t have a broken leg.”

I laughed. I could just imagine him putting someone down like that. A little mean, possibly, but with some people you have to be.

“You’re looking good,” he told me, and my heart fluttered. “You must be nearly eighteen now.”

My heart stopped fluttering. Did he think I was a child?

“Closer to nineteen than eighteen,” I said I what I thought was a polite voice.

“Sudden chill in the air,” he said with a grin. “I meant, of course, that you must kaçak iddaa be nearly nineteen now.”

I just gave him a look and he laughed. Shortly after that he departed and as soon as the sound of the car died away the sound of kids getting out of bed could be heard.

Eventually the kids were back in bed and asleep. I stayed on full alert until I was sure they were both dead to the world and then I relaxed and turned on the TV. Quietly, because sometimes kids have the hearing of a bat, usually triggered by you not wanting them to hear something.

I wasn’t expect a very late night as Jack would probably come home straight after the club meeting, although he might stop for a quick drink on the way, especially if the parents had been particularly dense. It’s hard to be the coach of a junior football team. Unpaid and unloved, but you get to be a dictator which is what Jack says keeps him going.

Jack returned at a reasonable hour looking very pleased. The meeting had gone well, mainly because Mrs Featherwell couldn’t attend, having been hospitalized with a broken leg.

“It just goes to show that god does answer prayer,” Jack said with a grin.

“Poor woman,” I said sympathetically. “How’d it happen?”

“She tripped over her son’s crutches,” Jack said, sounding quite happy about it. I guessed she was the woman who’d wanted all the matches deferred six weeks. Some people have no sense.

Now when I got ready to come to Jack’s place there had been several considerations on my mind. First, I was babysitting and had to wear clothes where it wouldn’t matter if the kid’s soiled them. Second, the kids would be going to bed about the time I arrived and I wouldn’t really have much interaction with them. Third, I was sitting for Jack.

That last item had weighed fairly heavily on my mind and I finished up dressing with Jack in mind. It wasn’t as though I was going to try and seduce him or anything like that but a girl did like to look good when around someone like Jack. I’d finished up going with older clothes that still suited me very well.

I had on a lacy button-up blouse with little pearl buttons down the front. For a skirt I’d grabbed a colourful half-length gypsy skirt that flared out nicely if I turned quickly. It had an elasticized waistband which meant no buttons or zips and I was pleased to see that my waist was still the right size to wear it. I’d grown a little since I last wore it but from the strain on my blouse I was guessing that the biggest difference in my stature was concentrated around my bust. OK, and possibly my hips, but I still had a trim waist and my bottom did not look fat, my little brother’s opinion being grandly ignored.

What I expected once Jack got home was that he’d offer me a cup of coffee before I left, we’d talk for a while, me trying to flirt, him not noticing, and then I’d go home. What I did not expect was that he’d walk up to me and start undoing those little buttons on my blouse.

Now I’ll admit that the top two buttons were already undone, because the blouse was just that tiny bit tight. OK. The top three, but a girl has to show at least a little cleavage, doesn’t she? What that meant was that he was starting on the fourth button down and before my brain caught up with my eyes he’d also undone the fifth and sixth buttons. Might I point out that I only had six buttons and the blouse was now gaping wide, helped on its’ way by my breasts which seemed to enjoy the relaxation illegal bahis of the tightish blouse.

I was, let me say confused. Partly excited, this was Jack, after all, partly puzzled, because Jack didn’t do this sort of thing, and partly irritated, because he should at least have asked my permission.

I started to ask what he thought he was playing at but found myself giving a startled squawk instead. I’d just discovered that it was a bad idea to wear a skirt with only an elasticized waistband to hold it up because that made it very simple to take it off. You just grabbed and pulled. My shock was not helped by the fact that he, purely by accident, I’m sure, also pulled my panties down at the same moment.

Now I did get a chance to ask him what he thought he was playing at. I expect I sounded startled and indignant when I asked because he was now unhooking my bra and I was about to be stark naked without have a chance to defend myself or tell him to stop. I was finding it hard to believe that Jack could strip me so fast.

His answer to what did I think he was doing was rather graphic. He just dropped his own trousers (and jocks, damn him) and his real answer was standing up and waving to me.

Now I have to admit that I was feeling way excited and also way horrified. It was a case of I was excited over the fact that Jack was going to fuck me (and that erection of his clearly stated his intentions), and horrified by the fact that Jack was going to fuck me, without any warning whatsoever.

The whole think was ridiculous. I mean, here I was, effectively naked, with all the lights on, and you could see everything. Being naked with the lights on was an awful lot different to a little bit of slap and tickle in the dark that might, or might not, lead to more. Generally not, in my case. Having the lights on put the whole deal in a completely different category. There was something about being naked and being seen to be naked that put a sense of inevitability to it, announcing that this WAS going to happen.

Really, if I looked down the length of my body I’d be seeing my own pussy on display. Well, I would be seeing it if a hand wasn’t currently covering it, and I’d like to point out that it wasn’t my hand.

I started to protest about what Jack was doing (and it was way past time to, might I say) but I just seemed to be coming out with a stream of babble, apparently unable to construct a coherent sentence.

It turned out that wasn’t a problem for Jack. Apparently he was very fluent in babble and understood me perfectly.

“Relax,” he said, and just the sound of his voice was soothing. “We won’t go any further than you want us to go. We’re not hurting anyone. When you’ve had enough all you have to do is tell me to stop. That little word ‘no’ works wonders.”

Now I was feeling irate again, even if excitement still seemed to have the edge on my emotions. Just tell him to stop? How dare he put the responsibility of anything that might happen onto me? That was so unfair. I was now dithering internally, trying to work out how to say stop without offending him. There again, why should I be worried about offending him? He certainly didn’t seem worried that his behaviour might be offending me.

I found out something else while I was dithering. That couch of his was bigger than I thought and the material felt quite warm against my back. Which promptly made me try to work out how come I was now lying bahis siteleri on the couch? His hand was finally not touching me quite so personally and I thought that meant he was winding things down a little and I wouldn’t have to say anything.

I glanced down towards my pussy and my eyes went wide from shock. The reason he didn’t have his hands all over me was because he had other intentions and they looked as though they were about to get under way.

“Um, Jack,” I said, “Jack.”

He didn’t even turn to look at me, preferring to look at what he was doing. I should have been saying, “Jack, stop,” rather than “Jack,” because he wasn’t going to. I took a deep breath, intending to speak my mind loudly and clearly, but gave a deep shuddering intake of breath as his cock first pressed against me and then dived for home, turning the “Ah,” of a big gulp of air into an, “Aarrgh,” as I felt his cock sliding deep into me.

Boy. Talk about an abrupt feeling of consternation. It was obvious that I’d left it a little late to call stop. I’d look a right idiot if I told him to stop now. I’d feel a complete fool. On the other side of things this was Jack with his cock stuck up inside me. Way up, and I could feel every bit of it, swelling and stretching my passage and seeming to be comfortably at home inside me. God, the other girls in the Babysitter’s Club would go wild if they knew.

While I was lying there, considering the situation, Jack had got to work, and his cock was sliding in and out like nobody’s business. This quite naturally registered on me. A bit hard not to notice that sort of thing, if you get what I mean? I was relieved to find that I’d been automatically responding. God, fancy finding I’d just been lying there like a lump. I’d have been so ashamed of myself.

As it was I pushing up to meet him quite energetically, those lovely feeling raising my excitement to new levels. His hands were now on my breasts, fondling them, plainly enjoying them, and I found I loved the feel of his hands stroking them. Then it became a full contact sport when his mouth closed over mine and he was kissing me.

I just clutched at his shoulders, rubbing my breasts against his hands, my hips bouncing as I met his eager loving, our tongues entwined as he absolutely ravished my mouth. As far as I was concerned he could keep doing this for as long as he liked.

He bounced and touched and kissed and if my mouth had been free I’d have been screaming yes and begging for more of the same. I couldn’t get enough of him, although he was certainly giving me all that he had. He started moving even faster, his cock really plummeting into me, driving me wild.

Then I was spiralling away into nothingness, screaming into his mouth as I climaxed, my whole body shaking from the force of it.

I slowly gathered my wits together, finding Jack was no longer lying on me. I managed to sit up and shook my head.

“Well, that was interesting,” I managed to say, and Jack just laughed at me.

Now he offered me the cup of coffee I’d expected earlier and I took the opportunity to tidy myself up while he prepared it. We talked, Jack providing me a few more funny anecdotes about what parents of players get up to, trying to make their kid the star of the team. After the coffee I went home.

I have to admit that as I drove away I wondered what the girls in the Babysitter’s Club would say if I told them what Jack had done. Flatly refuse to believe me, was my guess, and claim I was making it all up. Obviously I wasn’t going to say anything but I couldn’t help but wonder – how many other babysitters thought they were the only girl Jack had jumped?

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