and he pulled out of her pussy, leaving it wet and gaping as he began to shoot hot, white spurts of cum all over her ass.
She moaned and rolled her hips like she liked the feel of it running down the crack of her ass, through the wet, pink cleft of her pussy, and I couldn’t hold back anymore, hearing him cum, watching waves of it erupting from the thick head of his cock, and I was coming, too, right there on the couch, my hips bucking and twisting, my whole body trembling.
Feeling guilty again, I quickly pulled my jeans up and turned off the movie. I watched MTV and fell asleep on the couch until they got home. I couldn’t even look at him when they paid me. But I do remember, the next week when I went to babysit, he asked me, “Did you like the movies we rented last week?” I froze and blinked at him and he winked. “I noticed you didn’t rewind them.” Ah, the days before DVDs. VCR tapes told tales.
Meekly, I apologized, but my whole body flushed at the hot look in his eyes. He was about to say something, but his wife came in and he didn’t have the opportunity. I knew, then, that he’d imagined me doing just what I did on his couch that night, and the thought made me wet. They didn’t leave any porn this time, but I didn’t need it. I stretched out on the couch and touched myself again that night, remembering the way he looked at me…
FIRST BLOWJOB
I got myself into a lot of trouble while I was babysitting. That’s probably where the idea for Babysitting the Baumgartners came from in the first place. I actually had an affair with a married man while I was babysitting for his kids. He drove me home every weekend after I babysat for him and his wife’s two kids. It was innocent and fun at first.
Just simple flirting, his hand on my knee.
Was I attracted to him? Yes. Very. He made my stomach fill with butterflies. It grew, this feeling, this thing. We started parking down the block from my house and kissing. That progressed to touching. I ached every time I stopped him and we drove the rest of the way to my house so he could drop me off. I inevitably ended up in my bed those nights, rubbing my soaking wet pussy to a delicious, mind-blowing orgasm, imagining just what happened one night soon after in the front seat of his car.
It was the first time I’d ever had a cock in my mouth. I’d had plenty of them in my hand or rubbing up against me in the dark. But I’d never been brave enough and the boys I’d been with had never been bold enough, and so I’d never actually tasted the thick length of a cock before. Until that night. This man-let’s call him David-parked the car down the block, like we’d been doing. We proceeded to kiss and touch and do all those things we’d been doing for the past few weeks.
I had his cock in my hand, stroking it fast and hard, making him moan as he shoved my skirt up and pulled my panties aside. I’d learned quickly to wear skirts instead of jeans, giving his probing fingers easy access to my aching pussy. He almost inevitably made me come within a few minutes, shuddering against him, squeezing his dick in my hand until pre-cum leaked from the tip.
That night, he didn’t stop after that first one. He grabbed me, my hair in his hand, pulling my head back so he could kiss me-hard-his tongue probing deep into my mouth. His fingers kept pistoning in and out of my flesh, his thumb rubbing my throbbing little clit, and I twisted and arched against him, aching for that second come, working for it, rocking on his hand and begging, please, please, please.
That’s when he lowered my mouth slowly to his lap. I remember understanding what he wanted, but being afraid. Afraid I’d do it wrong, or not know how. It really didn’t matter, though. He was good at guiding me, sliding my mouth down onto his cock. I remember gagging a little, feeling him back off, catching my breath. So this is how it was done. Up and down with my mouth, the same motion I’d been making with my hand.
It was sloppy and uncontrolled, but I don’t think he cared. My ass was in the air, my panties pulled down around my knees, my skirt up, and if a passing car had gone by and looked in, they might have gotten quite a view. He distracted me with his hand, fingering me as I sucked him, my pussy already on fire from his earlier attention. It didn’t take me long to catch back up and I ground my hips, sometimes forgetting about the throbbing cock in my mouth altogether.
The sound of his breath, his words, filled my ears. “Good girl, god yeah, such a good girl, suck it, baby, that’s it, god that’s so good…” My whole body filled with warmth and I sucked him harder, faster, making him buck and moan. I wanted something from him, I just didn’t know what. I wanted something for myself, too. His fingers worked expertly in my pussy, finding my clit and rubbing, making me moan around his cock. I was so close to exploding I thought I would die.
I couldn’t say anything-my mouth was too full of him-but I felt my climax coming and it made me suck him even harder. I was going crazy all over his cock, sucking and slurping, the noises obscene and thick in the front seat of the car, the windows fogging with our panting breath. I was coming with his cock buried in my throat, gagging on it at the same time as I rocked with my orgasm, fucking his hand, wanting more, more, more.
He cried out then… and it happened. I cried out, too, in surprise, as thick, hot jets of cum flooded my tongue. I didn’t know what to do but swallow it, wincing as the acrid taste slid down my throat. It just kept coming, and he shuddered and grabbed my head, keeping me there, filling my mouth to overflowing again, so I had to swallow, and again, god, so much of it, hot, pulsing waves of it as he cried, “Oh fuck, oh god, oh yeahhhh baby yeah!”
He kissed me when it was over. Pulled my mouth to his and kissed me-hard. He thanked me, too, and whispered into my ear what a good girl I was. I wanted to do it again. He was soft, now, cock and balls just a fleshy mass at the base of his zipper, and when I reached for him, he stopped me. Still, the longing in me didn’t stop. I wanted more.
We had sessions after that-and I learned a great deal about how to suck his cock, how to make him wait for it, how to tease him and take him to the edge. But I’ll never forget that first time, the sweet surprise of it, and the longing to suck, and suck, and suck… for that sweet good girl reward.
JOY OF SEX
It’s no secret that I’ve been with women before. I was with girls long before I was with boys, actually. My first real sexual experiences were experimenting with girlfriends,
“practicing” how to kiss, first on pillows, then using our tongues. My best friend, Shawn, was a year old than I was, and her mother was divorced and had some interesting things for us to explore in her bedroom. The first was a huge illustrated copy of the “Joy of Sex.” We read about how to touch ourselves, how to suck a cock. We lay on the bed together, flipping pages, our faces burning, our hearts racing, our sweet pussies aching.
After a few times of doing this, Shawn decided to show me what was in her mother’s top drawer. I hadn’t seen one yet, although I would later discover my mother’s, too. It was the standard issue white vibrator, circa 1970-something, the kind that took two D-or was it C?—batteries and got incredibly hot after it had been turned on a while. That first time, I just watched her. Shawn was absolutely shameless about her body and her desires. She pulled her shorts and panties down to her knees—it was the middle of summer—and spread her legs wide. The hair between her legs was dark and thick, and the inside of her pussy was shockingly pink as she spread her lips and began to rub her clit with the humming end of the vibrator.