How I [F] Lost My Babysitting Job

So… I’ve always been a good girl. Not a perfect girl — but I don’t sleep around. There was that one guy when I was younger, but he dumped me when he got what he wanted, and I learned from that. Since then, I’ve kept my legs together, and now I’m nineteen. If I’m gonna be honest… guys my age are immature jerks. They are all over me for free handouts, and that’s not as flattering as they think.

And my parents are after to me to figure out what I’m going to do with my life, since I don’t have a college gig planned yet, and I’m not in a serious relationship. I’m doing part time at Hooters (don’t even fucking say it) and babysitting on the side. Hooters is good money — the tips are like triple what you get anywhere else. Yes, I know what the word objectification means, but the guys that eat there are less crude than what I see outside of work. My parents don’t love it, but they are the ones charging me rent, so I have to do something. So I figure it’s a start. It beats saying I’m still babysitting at nineteen.

So it’s a hot summer night, and I get a call for babysitting at the last minute. Not a problem. Dr. K and his wife usually ask for me every two weeks; regular work is good, so this is somebody I want to keep happy. And their daughter is always like “Hi Allie, read me a story, ok, I’m sleepy now, goodnight” and she practically puts herself to bed. And Dr K lets me use his exercise machine as long as I put everything back the way it was. So I’m getting paid to work out. They always come home when they say they will, so I can do an hour on the machine, change out of the exercise outfit, check on the daughter, and get on my phone and chat until they get back. Dr K pays well, too. His wife usually tells me all about the theater show they saw, which is the only dull part. I know more about Gilbert and Sullivan than anyone my age now. I’m not sure what Dr K sees in her.

So… right. You can see where this is going.

Part of it is, Dr K is a hunk. He’s thirty-five, strong face, he works out, and, well, nothing he wears manages to hide his package. I’ve got a lot going for me, but this guy is out of my league. Which is fine, he’s married and too old for me. Not too old to look at, just too old to think about. Much.

So anyway, he calls, it’s some kind of emergency, can I come straight over. Choking down an “anything for you, Dr K”, I grab my backpack (chance favors the prepared babysitter), and bop on out there, ten miles away. They could get someone closer — I like the fact they use me anyway.

It turns out that the wife’s mom is suddenly sick, and they are driving over to check up on things. This might be a long night. I’m not working tomorrow, so that’s fine. And I’d have done it in any case.

I have to stick this in. Dr K has definitely noticed I’m pretty. I’ve seen his eyes move over me, a couple of times. But that’s it. No comments. No jackass behavior. Not even a smile. It’s all subtle. Hell, I’m not sure I’m that subtle when I look at him.

The wife carries a bag to the car, and Dr K hangs back to have a word. “Alona… I appreciate this. She’s very worried and I’m not sure when we will be back… four hours at least. Maybe much more. Make yourself completely at home, spare bedroom, kitchen, shower, TV, whatever you need.”

He looked me in the eyes as he said it, and a fingertip trailed across the inside of my wrist as he let go. I didn’t imagine it, and I blushed hotter. Then he was gone.

I got inside and breathed until the blush faded. It had been a single fingertip, for fuck’s sake. It could have been accident. On an impulse I lifted my wrist and inhaled. His cologne. Oh……. Crap. That was kind of hot.

I connected up with the little one, who was a little distraught by her parents’ sudden exit, and a board game and a story were needed to calm her down. She curls up for the night, and… I have the big, pretty house to myself for hours.

Inevitably I lift my wrist again, and inhale. The scent of him is very strong. It suddenly occurs to me that he might have deliberately wet his finger with the cologne right before he touched me. Deliberately marking me with scent. Like what animals do.

The blush is back. He… shit, this makes no sense. He and his wife will be back in a few hours. Emphasis on wife. Nothing was going to happen. My imagination was just running a little wild.

Imagination… what would it be like, to just… imagine? I settle on the leather couch, kick my shoes off, and just let the images form. Dr K and I, meeting somewhere. Flowers. Flirting. And then the kiss. The kiss, starting gentle but turning… hot. So hot. I’m pressing my breasts against him. I mean, what would it be like to have to lure him a little? He’s so controlled, I barely ever catch him looking at me; guys are always coming to me, what if Dr K knew how to make me come to him…

If he knew how to make me…

I was shivering. I’d just run a scene in my head that, well, no, I’m not even going to think about it again. I had no idea I was such a slut.

Ok, I needed to get off this couch, find something to do. I needed to get a grip on myself. If I start masturbating I’ll cum. And then slut out online with videos, and cum again. I’m not going to have an off switch this evening, not in the mood I’m in. So I wasn’t going to masturbate. I was going to work out, damnit.

He had his own little gym in the house, downstairs, with a shower off to the side. Whatever he did, it brought in money. He had a Jacuzzi in his bedroom, a hot little BMW sports car. I imagined him counseling women on sexual matters… teaching them how to suck cock, making them rub his cum into their skin… it took me a couple minutes to realize every woman I imagined him with had blonde hair and a rack like mine. Right, my imagination wasn’t even trying to be subtle.

I changed into my exercise outfit. I look at myself in the mirror he’s got in here, and I’m kind of stunned by what I’m seeing. Eyes wide, nipples hardening, lips shining from the licking I hadn’t realized I was doing… I mean, my body was transmitting “Yes Please” on all frequencies. I played with my hair, arranging it a little… I broke out the cosmetics case and started… dolling up. Fuck, a little blush, a little lip gloss, let’s play with the hair… I tell myself I’m not doing this for Dr K, this is just me being a woman, I’m just… enjoying what I have.

But once the lip gloss is on, what looks back from the mirror is openly fuckbait. The fantasies are back, intense, vivid, and in every one of them I’m a girl seduced or pushed into giving it up, reluctantly at first, but only at first. Or just… made to, which shouldn’t be hot but oh, fuck, this carefully arranged hair getting grabbed by him, his just-open-the-legs-or-I’ll-slap-you-again attitude, my clothing torn and my body bent roughly over his desk, and fuck what if he forced me to look at videos of girls just like me getting fucked, as he took me..

I pull myself away from the mirror. I want to cum so bad… and it was stupid because I wasn’t getting any cock tonight, and definitely not from some older guy with a wife in tow. Not even if his huge, hard, thick package ripped out of his dress pants…

I strapped myself into the exercise machine, cursed, unstrapped, and set the weights. He worked with weights three times my limit. I put music on, strapped back in and did leg lifts, fucking pushing myself hard, because I wanted my body perfect for Dr K. I wanted him to need me, bent, over the desk, taut and hot and better than what he saw online. When the legs were tired I switched to abdominal crunches. I crunched and sweated, holding a small medicine ball to make sure I burned. And the fucked up thing was, exercise usually calms my sexual needs, but tonight it didn’t. I could see myself in the mirror and I was such a fuck toy, all hot and panting like this, there was no off switch tonight, and I could smell his cologne all around me, on the machine and from my wrist and-

“Slow down. Working out isn’t about speed.”

My blood turned to ice.

He was right there. Looking at me. I hadn’t heard him come in. I was sweaty and panting and dressed in slut lycra and he was looking at me.

“Dr K” I yelped! “I thought- I mean-”

“Ms K is going to stay with her mom.”

He walked over and examined the weight stack I’d started with. “Hm. I always figured you just sort of played at working out, but this is a real set of weights. You were crunching too fast, though. Let’s add five pounds and have you try it slower.”

Shit. The gorgeous doctor wanted to play at being my personal trainer! This could have been really hot — if he hadn’t just stepped my exercise routine up from energetic to brutal. But he fucking had me. Only a child would have been all “no, I can’t with you watching me.”

I pulled myself slowly through the sit up. Fuck. Lifting a ten pound ball was actually much harder than the five pound ball. And doing anything slow is brutal. I wasn’t sure I could do ten of these.

On the seventh I started shaking on the decline, which is bad. He plucked the medicine ball out of my hands, and then got his hand under my back, and lowered me down. That put him leaning over me… fuck. Fuck! I smelled like hot pussy. I blushed red in a heartbeat.

“I… should go,” I said.

“You sound disappointed,” he smiled. “Let me guess-”

Oh please fuck no, don’t guess-

“-you were hoping for the extra hours. I did promise you at least four… so let’s do it this way. Sometimes Bella is up at around 4am and wants her mother. If you could stay for that, you’d get your hours. The guest room is right next to Bella’s.”

He wanted me to stay the night! For a second I couldn’t breathe. Fuck this is so messed up, shit I have to get out of here I can’t be alone with this man fuck fuck fuck-

I nodded yes, unsteadily. Wait, who told my head to do that?

“So that’s settled, then. Let’s get you off this bench — I want a turn.”

He walked into the little adjoining shower area. I sat perfectly still for a full second, and then dived for my backpack. Towel for the face, hairbrush, shit shit shit why did he have to come in at that exact moment my hair had been all pretty an hour ago- fuck I needed to get OUT of these panties but I couldn’t change here, not with that open doorway to the shower area, he was just around the corner and oh fuck fuck fuck he was changing he was naked in there, fuck there’s my perfume but my hands are shaking, I mustn’t spill any-

He walked out. And fucking hell.

Shorts. That was it. They looked like silk or satin or something, and they clung to … oh gods. I can’t look there, I’ll die or something-

The rest of him was just as intense. He was a freaking statue, perfectly carved, and the worst of it he was completely un-self-conscious. Guys fucking have that down. He calmly put his achingly hot body on the bench three free away from me, wrapped those perfect legs around the bars and started working it.

“Come here and set the weights where they should be.”

That meant reaching across him, practically putting my boobs in his face.

“I, uh-”

“Now.”

One word. One tiny little word, and it completely redefined the evening. Up until now I’d been able to believe that it was all coincidence and wishful thinking, that chance had put us together this nigh. But with this one word he’d made it clear that he has expectations and nothing was chance. He wasn’t asking. He was telling. I shivered. Once a guy knows he can tell you to do things, it never stops.

What should have happened was, I should have grabbed my backpack, made some transparent excuse about not feeling well, and left. I knew that. But some part of me bristled at his tone. Did he think I wasn’t onto him? I’d show him. I’d show him I knew. And then I’d go home.

I walked over, and expressionlessly added a weight to the stack. I didn’t wave my boobs in his face — I leaned one against his cheek.

I’d expected him to lick, bite… something. Instead he just chuckled, soft and deep — and his erection went wild, emerging out of the waistband.

If he’d moved, brought his tongue out, said something stupid and male — anything — I could have gone off in a fake rage. But by playing it cool, he’d turned the tables. Now it looked like I was starting things, not him.

And that erection. Fuck fuck FUCK fuck fuck. It was perfectly delineated by the soft, shiny cloth of the shorts, every fascinating, pettable little detail, all massive and throbbing. And the head of it was out. Fully out. Fully… oh fuck, I couldn’t stop staring. This was the moment for moving away and making some smart-ass comment and walking out of the room, and instead I was watching a drop of precum slide onto his stomach from an erection I had deliberately given him.

He waited for the blush to peak, and said, quietly, “Let’s not pretend. We both want things, badly. Slide my shorts off and cup it in your hands.”

My body went up in flames at these words. Rubbing his cock. That was… ok it was impossibly wrong, but it wasn’t like he was asking me to give it all up for him. Just a hand-job, I mean… oh gods was I insane? Once I touched that I’d give him anything he asked for. Everything I’d vividly pictured in the last two hours and maybe things I’d never imagined. He was so fucking gorgeous and I was his fantasy. Oh gods.

I was shaking now, and he was just lying there, arrogantly expecting me to uncover… and he knew I would because, after all, I’d already made the first move. I clenched inside, over and over. He hadn’t even touched me yet. I was a freaking child compared to him, what could I know about what he needed, I’d had sex exactly once in my life and the guy had cum almost instantly and I’d barely felt anything and oh gods, oh gods I wanted to feel, I wanted to feel that huge cock pushing into my body, I wanted to give Dr K the time of his life and I didn’t know how but he- he wanted me to touch him- he wanted-

My hands pulled down his shorts. I watched them. They’d gotten impatient with my internal dialogue, and just went off and obeyed him.

But once his shorts were below his knees, it was me who pressed my eager hand along the length of that hard, frightening, impossibly fascinating chunk of manhood, and rubbed, slowly. Heavy. Firm. Hot. A sledgehammer meant to batter women open. My eyes just watched what I was doing, I couldn’t look at his face, my pulse was hammering-

Then my lips were against his — he’d pulled me into a kiss. I’d expected roughness, but he knew how to tease, even now. I’m not good at describing this, but he left room for me to kiss him back. And within moments, oh gods did I. My lips became soft and eager and clinging and tempting, and the low, soft male growl that earned me, rocked me to the core. He knew how to make me come to him, oh fuck I’d always wanted this and it was ten times hotter than I’d ever imagined-

He stood up, hooked his long fingers into the lycra and pulled my top over my head. And there I stood in skin tight short shorts, slut-wet panties, fuck-me lip gloss and a hot blush.

“Let me tell you how this is going to go,” he said, his eyes running over me. “If I just took what I wanted I’d scare the hell out of you. And we’ve got all night, so I’m not in a hurry. So before I take you, I’m going to make you so hot you can’t think and can’t breathe. I like foreplay. Specifically I like making a woman beg for release. You’re going to lie on this bench, legs on either side of it, feet to the floor. And close your eyes. I’m going to touch you until you ache.”

“I- I-” I was dreaming. “I thought you just wanted to fuck — I mean — gods-”

“You can get cock anywhere. I’m going to give you things you can’t get anywhere.”

“I… not to sound t-too eager, but I’m already… I mean I’ve had foreplay with you all night in my head.” Why the fuck had I told him that?! “The thing with the cologne on your finger… it worked. Oh fuck, did it work…”

“Mmm. You noticed that. Good. Now do as I say.”

I just wanted cock, did he really think I needed- was I going to be with him all night. I whimpered, softly, and moved to the bench as I opened my shorts.

“No,” he said. “I’ll take them off you when the time comes. Lie down as you are.”

In a dream, I did. Eyes closed. Legs apart. Body waiting. Impatiently waiting.

Hands. He started on my belly, setting off a contraction that made me groan. I had to keep my eyes closed for this? I couldn’t look at him? Oh fuck, why did that make it a thousand times as intense?!

And then my upper arms. He had strong hands, and his touch was firm. Not too light. Some guys, you can barely feel their hands. I’m not made of glass. Oh please, please, my breasts want your hands. My nipples are so hard. I need you to be just a little cruel with them. I need you to make me, just a little. Don’t make this entirely my idea. Oh gods, please, make it hurt just a little bit so I have to do what you want!

His lips, on mine, suddenly. This kiss was all him, no room for me. He took and I gave, and then his tongue parted my lips and… he fucked my mouth with his tongue. It went in and out, and my legs parted wider in response. Oh fuck no one had ever done that to me and oh fuck did it work. In moments I was clenching in the same rhythm as his tongue’s thrusting movement. Then I was up on tiptoe, raising my hips… why were his hands back on my belly, didn’t he know where I wanted them!?

“Ask for what you want,” he whispered against my lips. No, please, women can’t ask, we’re not allowed, please just take- “Breasts,” I moaned.

“Mmm,” he whispered. “Impatient. Good.”

His hands, on my breasts. My full, firm breasts. I’d had to ask. And then he trapped the nipples between his fingers as he squeezed down, and gave little yanks, and I moaned frantically against his lips, over and over. I shuddered, and my hair spilled, the careful work all fallen apart, falling nearly to the floor, Who was this total slut and where had he found her? I’d been good for two years, so good, but now I was going to be bad. I was going to be a very bad girl for Dr K.

“Clit,” I whispered against his lips. It came out breathy and ragged and I shivered at the sound of my own voice.

“Not yet,” he whispered back, and then he bit down on my soft, shaking lower lip, while he pulled upwards on my nipples. The fireworks exploded. I arched my chest upwards, but his bite kept my head against the bench. My legs were taut, my hips were undulating, and my toes scrapped against the floor. One hand gripped the bench leg and the other wrapped around his calf, and then stroked his leg. It was the sluttiest pose in the world, and completely involuntary.

Then his hands were in my hair, and he gave my now sore lips a kiss… the kind you read about. The kind where you kiss back and it’s a plea for rape. My belly contracted over and over, I clenched down on nothing where I wanted something so badly it hurt, and I made a noise I’d never made before, a kind of mewling. And as he kissed me like that, as our lips had sex, his hand took my wrist and removed my hand from his calf, and moved it to the other bench leg. Oh no… no… I wasn’t allowed to touch him!

I don’t have words for what this did to me. I nearly came. My role for the moment was to provide entertainment for his hands and lips, not to try to direct or distract him in any way. That beautiful cock, all that expanse of muscle, his steely eyes, and I couldn’t see or touch any of it, but he could do anything to me. I gave a soft sob, completely overwhelmed by it.

And then he began — slowly — to kiss his way down my body.

My lips stayed parted, shaking, wanting his lips on them again. His lips were on my throat. My nipples were begging.

“Please.” It just broke out of me. I wasn’t even embarrassed. Begging was supposed to be humiliating but that didn’t matter right now. “Please, I can’t want you more than I do now. I can barely breathe. Please. Oh, please!”

A fingertip touched my lips. “No more words. You’ve only begun to ache. And you’re too used to thinking of sex as a favor that boys beg for, maybe you’ll give it to them and maybe you won’t. I’m going to teach you about sex that’s something that you must beg to get. I’m going to make you my sexual thrall.”

There’s a kind of fear… I don’t know how to describe it. Once you realize you’re beaten and you’re going to give anything that’s asked and it’s because you want to… once you realize you’ve surrendered control… something happens. It’s not terror. It’s something that connects into desire and makes it something else. Every inch of me was buzzing with a kind of fearful anticipation, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t do anything except beg with my body, wordlessly, to be fucked.

His mouth took a nipple, and sucked it in, slowly. Teeth scraping over the pink flesh, as he drew it in deeper. The slow, teasing bite. Fingers on the other nipple, twisting it. Flickers of pain. Forbidding me speech didn’t matter because there weren’t words for this. I felt a tear form.

His tongue, licking his way down my belly. My hands gripping the hard steel pipe underneath me; I didn’t dare let go. The tension in my legs and belly. The tear trickling down the side of my face. My parted, glossy, begging lips. My perfume and his cologne. His fingernails on my sides. The image of his cock, echoing in my brain. I was just a girl, I hadn’t known what this could be like…

His tongue on my bellybutton, and then slower. I’d opened the shorts but not taken them down. He licked and nibbled with his lips along the exposed skin.

And then the single, sudden tap on my clit, through the lycra shorts. I spasmed. Another tap, harder. I spasmed again.

“I’m going to strip you naked now. I’ll play with your clit while I kiss your lips and breasts. You won’t cum or speak. There will be time for cumming and speaking when you’re bent over these iron bars being fucked.”

He peeled me naked, and chuckled softly. “Very nice. You have no idea how much or how long I’ve wanted this. And you were always so demure. Now goodbye to demure, and hello to hunger.”

Then my head was in the crook of his elbow, his hand was over one breast, his other hand was between my legs, and he was kissing me, endlessly. The slow, circular motion on my clit, and then the finger playing along my slit, opening it, not entering, not quite; and then two fingers lightly grasping my clit and giving hot little fast squeezes, and then two fingers raking inside me and instantly coming back out, and the nipple teased and so hard, and the way his tongue was fucking my mouth-

I was going to cum. He was forcing it. I tried to hold it back, I tried, but suddenly it slid free and starting building, fast, wild-

“No” he said, and his hand moved away. I spasmed in shock. No one had ever done that to me before. Not even me, when I was that close. “Fuck, please, that’s… cruel!”

“Hm. It seems I’m going to have to gag you, and that means no more kissing. Or can you stay quiet? Just nod.”

Shuddering, I nodded.

“Good. But I should punish you just a little for that outburst…”

Suddenly I felt something on my wrists. A strap… Oh gods, he’d got my wrists joined by some sort of stretchy binding, so now they were trapped under the bench. I squealed and, stupidly, tried to sit up, which obviously wasn’t going to work. By then he had each ankle bound to a leg of the bench. Chuckling, he walked off and came back with a blindfold.

“I’m so scared,” I whispered. “I’ve only read about this.”

The blindfold went on. He left and came back again. I heard buzzing. Oh fuck no. A vibrator. I’d never used one.

I lost track of time. The vibrator became my personal demon, forcing me to the edge of orgasm over and over, fast, slow, whatever he wanted, no matter how I fought it. His tongue went everywhere — my mouth, ears, neck, nipples, clit — and then he made me kiss and lick that massive cock. While blindfolded. I was going insane. I’d never, ever wanted to just throw myself at a man and get fucked like this before. I couldn’t speak; the words just got jumbled even when I dared to try. And then, suddenly, the massive head of his cock was at my slit, and I screamed “YES, FUCK YES!”

“Quietly,” he snarled. “Don’t want to wake anyone up, not right now. So you want this? You want my cock? There’s a little phrase I like to hear first.”

“Please,” I sobbed.

“That’s part of it.” He worked the cock in just a little, and then out, slapping it roughly against my clit, over and over, fast. Overload. I was thrashing in my bonds.

“Please fuck me!”

“Close.” He put his head back in, then caught my clit and gave it little jerks. He balanced me on the edge of orgasm.

“Gods! Fuck! Please, take me, use me, crunch me, rape me-”

“What?”

“Please rape me,” I whispered. How did he know about those fantasies? I’d never told anyone.

Then he untied me, took me by the hair, lead me upstairs, still blindfolded… I could barely walk. We were in his office, I knew. Where, in his imagination, he’d had me, many times. He bent me over his desk, and whispered in my ear, “Silently. We can’t be noisy here.” And having given me that impossible command, he hammered himself in.

He fucked me, roughly, his hands in my hair, his cock a jackhammer. It shook my whole body, took my breath away. “Cum,” he snarled, and I did, sobbing. I was his pretty girl toy and I did what he wanted and then I got to feel this. And I would do anything for this. Oh fuck anything. Helplessly and violently, I came again, and as I did he put his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet and that made me go insane, that was one of my rape fantasies…

And then I lie there across his desk, spent, dizzy, as the jackhammer continued. His orgasm was a low snarl, and he gripped my wrists so tight it hurt but I didn’t care. I moved for him as best I knew how and hoped he liked it.

Finally he stopped, panting, and removed my blindfold. He fell back onto a couch, and motioned for me to climb into his lap. I did, and he cuddled me in and kissed my mouth, gently. “What a nice little fuck you are,” he whispered.

“I, um… thank you. You’re… I don’t have words, I have nothing to compare you to. But this is so wrong. You fucked your babysitter. It’s so bad.”

“Ever cum like that before?”

“I didn’t even know orgasms came in that size. And that was the foreplay from hell.”

My ass was against his cock, my breast was against his chest; our nipples were almost touching. One arm was curled around me and traced the side of my breast; his other hand was stroking my hair.

“Glad you liked it. Because we’re not done.”

“Uh…” I giggled, manically. “This is the part where you fall asleep, isn’t it?”

“I don’t. I get real relaxed but I don’t actually drift off. Not every guy does. Plus, you’re going to be licking my cock in a few minutes.”

“Um…” I blushed. “I… shit. Look. You know I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing, right?”

“Yes.” He just said it. Ouch. “But I find that cute. I’m going to teach you. Train you. You’re going to be very good at pleasing me.”

“Wait…” I was shivering. This sounded long term. “We’ve just got this one night.” Fuck, that sounded melodramatic. “I mean, I’ve gone insane for the evening, but when your wife is back, this is over.” I tried to sound firm, mature, in control. He laughed.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said. Smiling. He had a devastating smile. He slid his hand down my belly, and parted my legs. “You think you’re all done cumming, don’t you.”

“There’s nothing left. That last orgasm… I thought I was going to pass out.”

He rubbed my clit. Three fast strokes, then he paused, then three fast strokes…

“Don’t. Gods. I couldn’t possibly. And neither could you. Fuck I can’t even think as it is. Everything is a warm haze. There’s nowhere else for my body to go.”

“You liked the sensation of being… forced… didn’t you.”

Three fast strokes, pause, four fast strokes…

“Don’t even talk about that. I’ve never told anyone about that filthy little fascination. I mean, it’s sick, right? You’re a doctor. You know it’s messed up.”

“It’s normal. Most women have rape fantasies.”

I cuddled in, warm, dazed. He was rubbing my clit. It felt good. “Wait… rape is like the worst thing in the world. Why is the idea so hot?”

“It’s complicated. You’ve learned to clamp down, hard, on your own sexuality. Guys are all over you as it is, you can’t flaunt it, you can’t revel in your desires, you can’t put it out there. You want sex. But you can’t ask for it. But you want it. So deep down, you’ve got I Want and I Mustn’t Ask facing off. All that’s left is He Made Me. ”

Four strokes. Pause. Five strokes. It was becoming hypnotic. I had to count the strokes.

“So I’m going to Make You, Allie. Over and over and over. Your body is going to respond to it, every single time. Real rape wouldn’t get you off — actually, it does get a few women off, but that’s rare — but what I do here isn’t real rape. I’m going to make I Want, and I Mustn’t, fight in you, wind up your sexual tension until you’re shaking — and then I’ll force myself into you.”

Five strokes. Pause. Five. No, I wanted six!

He kissed me. “I’m going to make you a very bad girl, Allie.”

“You already have. But… I’m… I’m just a girl. I’m nineteen. I don’t know anything. I know what I look like, but I’ve only been with… shit, I won’t even say how inexperienced I am. Don’t you want someone older and more experienced?”

“No.”

Six strokes. Pause. Six strokes. My joints feel loose. He kissed me again. Lingeringly. Then he broke the kiss and held his lips a fraction of an inch from mine, and I went to him, kissing him, moving my mouth against his lips as sensually as I knew how. He was evil and he knew he had me. And now I was kissing him, passionately. He’d done this to me.

Six strokes. Pause. Six strokes. Pause. Six strokes…

My hips shifted, trying to get more pressure on my clit. I didn’t do that. My hips did, the sluts. I wasn’t allowed to ask for things like this. Oh hell, was he right about I Want and I Mustn’t? Six strokes. Pause. Seven.

“You know too much,” I moaned, suddenly.

One finger entered me. Now the stroking was more than just stroking. Impossibly, I was responding. I clenched a little, and my ass tightened, gripping that monster cock. Oh. Oh no. If it hardened…

He placed something in my hand. Slowly I opened my eyes, and looked. It was the vibrator.

“I’ve… never used one.”

“You’re going to now. You’re going to stay curled up in my lap, one leg folded up, one out. You’re going to use it on your clit, on the lowest setting, while kissing my mouth, without stopping. You can also insert it, but you aren’t allowed more than a half inch, to start. And you have to ask, before you can turn it up.”

I held it in my hand. “Uh… this is really embarrassing. Having you watch. Really embarrassing.”

“I’ll be kissing you. My eyes will be closed.”

“No peeking?”

“I went to a lot of effort to get you naked and in my lap. Of course I’m going to fucking peek.”

“Oh. Right.”

My first time using a vibrator, and I was curled in the lap of a gorgeous, older man. Who had just fucked me senseless. This was a story I wasn’t sharing with Missy. Or Megan. Ever.

I turned it on, one click. His hand shifted, and instantly my clit and slit wanted his hand back. That made it easier to try the vibrator. He’d known that, of course. I was so out of my league it wasn’t funny.

Oh. Oh! Too much. Just… light pressure. That’s… damn I wish it didn’t buzz like that. I think it needs to be put a little to the side…

Oh.

Oh!

OH……

His lips brushed mine, then pulled back. Right… I had to kiss him. Over and over. Not exactly torture. I’d never really thought about who kisses who. I’d been kissed my share of times, usually briefly so the guy could check that item off and get to my boobs. Kissing was… I mean… Kissing is like asking, only you can get lost it in and it becomes begging. I wanted to kiss him nicely, so nicely, but I also wanted… needed… to do this vibrator because Ohhh… it was so nice when it was placed just there and moved just so…

This swiftly became maddeningly hot. My attention flying back and forth between his lips and my clit, and a reward whichever one I chose, but then the other would be calling…

I slid it in, just a little. Oh wow. That was different, that got everything… shaking… oh. Deeper? No, not supposed to. Oh, his lips. I licked them, slowly. Nicely. Teasingly. Being a bad girl was fun. His cock was hardening. That was… fascinating. I licked his lips, feeling the way my tongue tip made him harden.

His hand settled over my breast. I liked the way I filled his hand. He squeezed it, slowly and firmly, and my nipple ground against his palm. He hardened more.

My clit called, and I slid the vibrator back over to it. Oh gods. Suddenly my kissing went from asking to begging. My clit wanted… more. More shaking. More roughness. And I had to Ask. He made me Ask for everything, and I wasn’t supposed to do that, so I tried not to Ask, and instead I ended up wanting him to just do things to me. What a dirty trick.

“Please,” I whispered against his lips. “Can I try more?”

“Yes,” he said. Another click… no, too much. To the side again. Just above. Just below. Oh shit right there, just on the edge of sliding in… I remembered to kiss him, and I put my arm around his neck and pressed my breast into his hand, and that made him stone hard. I squeezed down on his cock again, and rocked, very slightly. So slutty. And oh what that made happen in my clit! And I didn’t have to think anymore, kissing him and teasing myself at the same time was easy now.

I pushed the vibe in, slow and deep, and squeezed down on it.

“No,” he said suddenly. He took it away from me. “Now I have to punish you again. Wrap both arms around my neck, but you’re not allowed to kiss me. You have to leave your lips unresponsive, and leave your body like this, languid, unmoving… no matter what.”

I shivered. He was cruel with a vibrator. That was going to be the worst.

But I was wrong.

Not kissing back was the worst. I lay there, trying not to respond and not to react, and the torment of my clit was so intense but my hindbrain was screaming “Kiss him back! Kiss him back! If you don’t he’ll think you don’t like it and he’ll move on. Kiss him back! You Have To Kiss Him Back Right Now!”

A minute. Two. Three. Then I sobbed out “I have to kiss you and cum.”

“I thought you were all orgasmed out?”

“Fuck you. I don’t know anything anymore. Please. Please!”

“Kiss me. Don’t cum.”

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/121f0jr/how_i_f_lost_my_babysitting_job