Charles was frantic. He looked everywhere, literally everywhere, but he couldn’t find them. But they had to be here they just had to be!
Charles sat in the recliner and signed. He had agreed to dog sit for his best friends Chris and Tracie, and now he was in their home, looking for the Holy Grail. Or, well, his version of the Holy Grail.
Chris and Tracie owned a cabin at the lake, and as it was spring, it needed a little cleaning, so they took a few days away. Their dog, Chet, usually made the trip during the summers but it was still a bit too cold for him. That’s what Tracie said, anyway. Chris had no problem loading up his trusty mutt for a road trip in rain, snow, freezing hail or burning lava. But she babied Chet, their only “kid” so far. And she put her foot down, so Chris agreed to keep him home.
So Charles played baby sitter. Which he didn’t mind. Chet was an easy dog to care for, but what really motivated him was access to the home by himself. Because his true motivation, his real reason to be here, wasn’t to do his best friends a favor. It was to find naked pictures of Tracie.
Saying he loved her was probably a bit much, but accurate. Yes he loved her and always will, she’d been his friend even before she met Chris. But he knew at an early age, back in middle school, that this busty brunette would never be his. He always dreamed of them together, but he knew he’d never win her heart. That was his head talking. But his LUST? Well now, that’s different. He is only a man after all, and Tracie is a strikingly beautiful woman, at least in his eyes.
Tracie was what a woman should be in Charles opinion. Five foot five and very much the girl next door. Sweet and polite with a southern accent. He’s never heard her say a curse word in his life and he’s known her since they were twelve. A cross between Courtney Cox and Tiffani Thiessen with shapely legs and not to mention round, firm breasts. 38D if he remembers what Chris told him one time. He can believe it too. She didn’t wear revealing clothing much , as she was more on the conservative side, but even she couldn’t hide the fact that she had a rack.
He had masturbated in her bed on his first night there. He knew which side she slept on (Charles had asked Chris of course, very innocently), but even without that knowledge it would have been easy to tell. It SMELLED like her. Like vanilla. Like honey. Like a woman he desperately and longingly wanted to fuck with everything in him for years.
Charles made a mess that night, pretending to fuck Tracie in her bed. He came too fast, the intimacy of jerking off where Chris had actually fucked her many, many times too much for him to handle. Imagining it was him plunging it inside her, Charles came all over the comforter, all over the blanket and pillows. He spent the rest of the evening cleaning and going to an all-night dry cleaner. He hadn’t expected the bill to be that high but, well cum is hard to get out.
The next night he raided her dresser. He found mounds, just tons of sexy bras, panties, and lingerie. It didn’t hurt that Tracie worked at Victoria Secret. Charles loved that about her, that a woman with such a sexy body worked at a lingerie store. His favorite bra of hers, a black lace shelf bra , found its way into his luggage to bring home for future use. But that night his cock came on her black thigh highs and red underwire bra and thong. Again he imagined it was Tracie wearing them, and he vigorously fucked her. He was careful to “pull out”, or in this case, aim for his stomach, when it was time to cum. He couldn’t afford another cleaning bill like the last one.
But today it occurred to him, a conversation he had with Chris a year or two ago. They were having beers during the Braves game. Tracie, looking sexy as fuck in her small tight khaki shorts and little Braves scoop neck tshirt, had to go to work early and went to bed, giving her husband a long and loving kiss on the lips. How he didn’t take her right there and fuck her good and proper Charles couldn’t understand. But as she walked out of the room , Chris caught his friend looking.
“She’s got a bod doesn’t she?”
Charles blushed, and found it hard to reply. Chris laughed, and was good natured about his friend looking at his wife. From there they talked about her, and Chris – for the first time in their friendship – spoke openly about his wife. How hot she was in the bedroom. A prim and proper lady on the street but a complete slut in the sheets. How he could barely keep up with her sometimes. That her tits were better than anything seen in a Playboy magazine. That her pussy tasted sweet like a peach. It didn’t hurt that Chris was three sheets to the wind, and that he’d won over $1,000 on the Braves game, putting him in a mood Charles hadn’t seen before. But it was a throwaway comment that he’d caught hold of and remembered.
That Chris admitted to having a flash drive of nude pictures of Tracie.
Now, Charles with open access to their house, and after looking all over for nearly six hours, he had come up empty. Nothing. Nathan, Nada. So he sat, a bit upset, a bit perplexed. He knew Chris wasn’t lying – he’d been around his friend too many times to know that when he’s drunk he’s blunt and truthful, embarrassingly truthful sometimes. So that drive had to be around somewhere.
After a few more moments of thought, inspiration struck. He went back to Tracie’s lingerie drawer. This time instead of spending time letting his dick and fingers and tongue explore her underwear, he searched the drawer. And all the way in the back was a small envelope, about the size of a credit card. When he opened it , out fell a flash drive.
Charles screamed yes so loud he caused Chet to bark. He could care less, he found it. He fucking found it! The Holy Grail. He was going to see what he always wanted, Tracie naked, nude, free!
He popped open his laptop and felt his dick stiffen. His heartbeat faster. He hadn’t even seen any pictures yet and he was already to get off. He closed his eyes to calm himself. Took a deep breath, then inserted the flash drive.
After a moment the file opened. He went through the pictures one by one. The first fifty or so we’re just Tracie, gorgeous piece of ass that she is, out and about. At the park, at the Braves game, at a wine tasting. Just regular pictures. Charles has actually seen some of these pictures over the years. They were good pictures of a good looking woman but nothing sexy or risqué by any means.
He came close to calling it a dud, but he felt the need to go on. And there it was, picture 54. Tracie standing against the door, with her silk gown unbuttoned, and her breasts showing. Charles took a moment to look at the object of his desire. Fuck she looked hotter and sexier than he could imagine. Her breasts WERE better than anything you’d see in a Playboy magazine. Firm and round, like he said, but with perfect nipples. She wasn’t beautiful. She wasn’t sexy. She was perfect. Charles unbuttoned his jeans, pulled out his cock, and unashamedly masturbated to the picture of his best friend’s wife.
He came quickly, much quicker than he thought he would. He had handy wipes to take care of that, and cleaned himself. He made sure to keep his jeans down and his cock out. Because he knew he’d be using it more tonight. He smiled, this is what he always wanted. Her…
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/g9z9m6/the_house_sitter