The Babysitter Revisited

Now, don't get me wrong – I'm not saying my wife, Maria, isn't sexually attractive any more. She is. In fact, for a woman of 43, she's still got a decent figure, and I know that, from time to time, men try to chat her up, wonder if they might be in with a chance – you know, "bored housewife" sort of thing – never know your luck – might be OK for a quick, uncomplicated fuck.

Actually, they might be right. One of them might get lucky one of these days. Maybe one – or more – of them has! And he won't have been disappointed. She's medium height, long hair, still quite dark – only little flecks of grey. She's still got a decent jawline – no double chin – and her face is relatively unlined. Large brown eyes, wide mouth, but lips just a little thinner, these days.

She strips quite well, for her age. Her tits have still got a bit of bounce in them, and her nipples always did erect very easily. They still feel good when you've got your hands wrapped round them and licking her nipples still makes her moan with pleasure.

She has a waist, which is more than you can say for a lot of women her age, but her belly sags a little, which has the effect of lowering, and apparently reducing, her pubic triangle. The whole pubic assembly, in fact, seems to have slipped deeper between her legs, which is OK when she's on her back, legs wide, but not so enticing when she's standing up. Her pubes, generally, seem sparser, and lighter, than before, which is a pity, because I like a big hairy bush on a woman.

Her butt was always slim, almost boyish, which I liked when I was younger, but my tastes have changed there, and a firm, jutting rear really flicks my switch these days. That kind of ass always looks, to me, as if it still has a stiff cock inside it, and, every time I see one, I imagine the woman walking along, still feeling that thick dick inside her, and creaming herself with every step she takes.

My wife, unfortunately, has very little flesh around her hips now and her legs, although still very shapely, do have a few varicose veins in them – nothing too noticeable, but I know they're there. Anyway, her ass does nothing at all for me nowadays, but some guys seem to find it attractive – I see them turn and give it a look, in the street.

She still enjoys a good fuck, though, and she gives a pretty good one, when we're both in the mood. She also joins in with my fantasies about her being fucked by another man – or men. She's never confessed to actually doing it with anyone else – since we were together, I mean – but she has been felt up – tits and pussy – a few times, usually at a fairly drunken party, and I like it when she tells me about those times.

How she felt as another guy's hand felt under her bra and squeezed her bare tits, getting wet between the legs, feeling his hard cock press against her. How it felt as he played with her hard nipples, thinking about how good it would be to let him finger her wet cunt.

And, how, a couple of times, when she had had a real lot to drink, she had found herself up against a wall, with a 'new' man's hand actually inside her panties, and had been unable to stop herself letting him slip a finger inside her, and had come, moaning and gasping, leaning against him as his thumb tickled her hard clit to orgasm.

How she would enjoy taking a new, hard cock in her hand. What it would feel like, having a big thick cock other than mine slide into her wet cunt. She says she's never done that, but I'm sure she has, and one day I'll get her to tell me about it …

Just lately, because she's a schoolteacher, I've revived one of my favourite fantasies – where a group of the older boys – maybe the football team – get a little drunk and catch her working late, alone in the school. They get a bit out of line and she tells them off, but one of them calls her bluff and grabs her.

As she struggles, he accidentally touches one of her tits, then, because he enjoyed what he felt, he touches it again. Maria gets mad, but the guy's pretty drunk and horny and he grabs her and really gives her tit a squeeze. She fights him off, but he gets two of the other guys to grab her wrists and hold them down on her desk.

She's standing up, her butt pressed against the edge of the desk, and, with all the rest watching, he takes her tits in his two hands and really gives them a feel. He's close up against her, and she can feel his hard rod pressing against her. Then he unbuttons her high-neck blouse and pulls it back over her shoulders. Her bra is black, lacy and they can see the shape of her nipples through it. He touches her tits again, rubbing his thumbs against her nipples, through the lacy material of her bra.

They're all quiet now, watching. Maria is really scared – she knows she has no control any more. She feels tears at the back of her eyes. Then the guy unclips the front of her bra and pulls it aside. Her naked tits are exposed. There is a sort of collective sigh as the bra falls way, and hands reach out.

She is crying, now, as her pupils take turns at feeling her bare tits – and then she feels a hand going up her leg.

"No! Please!" she protests, but it's way too late for that. Hands pull the front of her skirt up and her brief black panties are revealed. She knows that stray curls of her dark forest of pubic hair are peeping out round the sides of her panties. The hands are on her thighs, now, then one slides inside the leg of her panties …

Her cuntlips are moist, an inevitable result of having her tits felt and fondled by more than a dozen hands, and she sobs with shame and humiliation as an excited voice says her cunt is wet. She feels a finger slide inside her, and she gasps as it touches her g-spot.

Then her panties are dragged down and her legs are pulled apart, exposing her moist cunt. Maria is sobbing, now, bent back over the desk, as fingers explore her moist inner depths and hands squeeze her naked tits.

She's now lying, on her back, on the desk. Her wrists are imprisoned and her legs are being held wide apart. Then, suddenly, the fingers are no longer touching her cunt, and she feels the entrance being stretched by the unmistakable width of a knobhead. Before she can even scream, it's right inside her, and the football captain is fucking her in front of the whole squad. He leans over her and grabs her tits while his athletic young hips drive his big hard cock like a piston into her defenceless cunt. Then, suddenly, he stiffens his body and rams his cock up her one final time, and she feels his semen jetting into her unprotected womb.

Then the rest of their cocks come out – big, young, hard straight cocks – and they start fucking her. First of all, they only fuck her cunt, on the desk, then one of them pushes his dick into her mouth and makes her suck it till he shoots his come down her throat. Then she's pulled off the desk and bent over it and a black guy fucks her in the ass as she sobs in shame and outrage, her face pressed against the desk, her tits squashed against the rough wood.

Most of them come back for two or three goes. A lot of them make her tit-fuck them, making her hold her tits round their cocks, and sucking the knob with her lips until they come in her mouth. A lot more force her to do blowjobs second time around, playing with their big hairy balls as they fuck her mouth, and the ones who come back a third time seem to favour fucking her ass, while they lean over her, and play with her dangling tits.

At the end, she's getting cocks up her cunt and ass at the same time, sandwiched between two guys standing up, holding her in the air, legs apart, supported only by their cocks, their hands and mouths squeezing and twisting her tits and nipples until she screams for mercy.

Then, when they've all had their fun with her, they leave, taking all her clothes with her, and the caretaker finds her, naked, in her classroom and won't let her borrow his coat to cover herself with until she's let him play with her tits and fuck her, too.

I love it when we talk like that, although she goes a bit quiet when they start fucking her mouth and ass and tits, but, by that time, I don't care – I'm flying!

Anyway, I know that, if she ever did respond to any of the come-ons she gets from time to time, the guy wouldn't be disappointed. In fact, I wish she would do a bit of free-lance fucking, on the side. I know I'd love to hear all the details, afterwards – in fact, I'd like to watch.

But, as things are, with the exception of my fantasies, the fact remains – I'm suffering from the "same old pair of tits" syndrome.

Our neighbour, Joan, is well into her seventies. Her daughter, Lynn, is married, with four kids – a son, James, and three daughters.

I'll let you into a secret. Lynn was just eighteen when we moved in next door to her and her mother – and her father, who was alive, then. She used to babysit for us. One night the wife and I came home, pretty wrecked, from a party, and I had to put Maria to bed before I paid Lynn off. When I came downstairs, Lynn was waiting, with her coat on, to get paid. As I was getting her money out, I noticed something white on the carpet, half-hidden under a chair, and I picked it up.

It was a pair of panties – and they weren't Maria's! Lynn coloured up and, when I questioned her, she confessed that there had been a boy in our house with her. She pled with me not to tell her father. I took her back into the sitting room and made her sit down. Then I knelt in front of her and held her knees, pulling them apart, so I could see up her skirt.

She was crying, but she was still more frightened of her father than me. Sobbing, she let me force her knees apart. I lifted the front of her skirt and looked at her exposed pussy. Then I slid my hand up the inside of her leg and touched it, feeling her dark pussy hair, then sliding my finger along her lips. They were still wet. I pushed her legs wider apart and slid a finger inside her cunt. It was soaking, and she gasped as my finger pushed inside her tight channel.

I kept my finger inside and told her to open her coat and show me her tits. She cried some more, but she did what she was told. She took her coat off and pulled up her sweater. She wasn't wearing a brassiere, and her tits were quite small, but firm and sweet, and I gave them a good feel, then I took my cock out and made her jerk me off with her hand while I fingered her moist little cleft.

Then I let her go. I never did tell her old man what she had been up to but, although she did babysit for us once or twice more, I never got the chance to mess with her again. Of course, I wished, later, I had finished the job properly and given her tight little cunt the fucking it so truly deserved, and I did so, in my mind, many times, with Maria's legs spread wide beneath me …

Lynn's son, James, who is about fifteen, comes round regularly in the summer months to cut his grandmother's grass – every Wednesday afternoon, while she's at some club she goes to.

Last Wednesday, I'd been surfing the net for a couple of hours and I came up for air – and a cup of coffee – when I saw this delicious butt, in tight white shorts, swaying behind the electric mower. The bare legs were tanned, flawless. It was a few minutes before I recognised Lynn behind the mower.

Over the years, since the baby-sitting incident, it's been inevitable that I've been in Lynn's company – we even went to her wedding – but, understandably, there's always been a bit of a 'barrier' between us, although, as the years have passed, she seems to have put it behind her. Naturally, it's never 'come up in conversation' – I think about it, often, though, and my cock always rises at the memory ……

I ran upstairs and fetched my binoculars. I've used them a few times to catch downblouse glimpses of the neighbours' wives washing cars, and gardening – and the occasional look into an uncurtained bedroom.

I focussed on Lynn's legs. They were beautiful – shapely, not a mark on them – just lightly tanned, with a sheen of perspiration on them in the hot day. Her butt was pure heaven – I couldn't even see a pantyline, just the outline of firm cheeks undulating beneath the bright white shorts. I thought about how her husband – Chris – must enjoy gripping them while his cock slid into the tight quim between her thighs.

She was in great shape for a woman who had had four kids, and must, now, be in her mid-thirties. If anything, as a teenager, she had been a bit on the skinny side, and motherhood had given a bit more shape to her tits and ass.

Then she turned and came back, facing me. Her hair was light brown, in a ponytail. Her face was almost as it had been when she was a teenager – a flawless complexion, high forehead, deep brown eyes set wide apart, round, generous mouth with bee-stung lips, white even teeth.

She was wearing one of those 'crop tops', which covered her shoulders but left her midriff bare. She was bending forward a little but, even so, I could see where her breasts pushed against the material of her top. Her exposed belly was quite firm, and flat, her navel set like a little jewel of flesh in the middle.

My cock was like a steel rod. I tried to imagine – remember – her naked – her firm tits, with their juicy nipples – her succulent round ass – the golden-brown hair surrounding her pussy lips. I wanted to have her - to fuck her, properly ……

I went to the phone and dialled Joan's number. I saw Lynn stop and listen, then switch off the mower. She walked towards the back door and opened it, with a key she took from the pocket of her shorts.

I jumped the fence between the two gardens and entered the kitchen through the open back door. I could hear Lynn talking into the phone.

"Hello? Hello?"

I entered the living room. Her eyes widened, and I gestured to her to put the phone down. She put the receiver on the cradle and I advanced into the room. She backed away, against a wall, her eyes filled with apprehension. The wall stopped her. I approached and stopped, right in front of her. She was against the wall, her hands pressed flat against it.

"Hello, Lynn," I said. She was trembling, and didn't attempt a reply.

I touched her thigh with my right hand, and she jerked, as though I had hit her. Her flesh felt warm, vibrant, firm. I caressed it with the tips of my fingers.

"Remember the night I found your panties?" I asked.

I saw realisation begin to dawn, in her frightened eyes.

"Please!" she whispered, pressing herself against the wall, as though she could disappear inside it. I ran my hand up the inside of her thigh, luxuriating in the feel of her skin. I watched her eyes. All they showed was shock, and fear. I squeezed the flesh of her thigh and felt the strong suppleness. My cock was painfully hard.

"We left something undone, that night, didn't we?" I said, but she just shook her head, her eyes darting around for an escape route.

I leaned down and tasted the sweetness of her bee-stung lips. Automatically, she opened her mouth, in a kissing motion and, for a mad second, I wondered if she actually wanted this. Then, her head wrenched aside, with a strangled "No!"

"Now, you wouldn't want Chris to know about that night, would you – or your kids? What would they think? His wife – their mum – her panties on the floor after a night fucking some guy in someone's else's house ……"

I knew I had to come on strong – while she was still in shock. When she thought about it, she might realise that the best thing to do would have been to tell her husband, but I was banking that he thought he was her first, and only. I guessed, from talking to him at their wedding, that that was what he thought – in fact, I'd have bet that he didn't fuck her until their wedding night.

He was – is – one of those religious, straight guys. Very high principles – and probably very high standards. Not easy for a wife to live up to.

I stepped back a pace. She stared at me, eyes beseeching. I pointed at her crop top and, with two hands, mimed her pulling it over her head. She didn't move. Her mouth was open, her head shaking in refusal. But her eyes showed the helplessness of defeat and my erection reared. Her hands grasped the hem of the crop top.

She pulled it up, over her head. She wore a bra – a plain, white one, with a pink bow embroidered on the front. It showed a little cleavage.

After she had pulled the top over her head, she held it in her hand. She tried to raise her hands to cover her chest, but a swift movement of my hands stopped her. I looked at her exposed upper body. My hunger for her was immense.

She began to come out of shock – to live in the present – to understand the reality of what was happening. A low whimper started in her throat and her body started to hunch. I had to regain control – to focus her mind.

Deliberately, I lifted a hand and squeezed one of her firm breasts. Even through the bra, I could feel its firmness and resilience. It was bigger, more fleshy, than I recalled. The feel of it made my breathing ragged.

"Take it off!" I whispered, hoarsely. My voice didn't register on her. I needed to go on – I wanted to talk dirty to her.

"Show me your tits."

I pressed her tit, hard, painfully, and her hands went up her back. Then they reappeared, over her shoulders, pushing the bra down and forward. She covered her chest with her hands. I looked at her little hands trying to conceal her bounteous gifts of nature. It was a sweet moment – the anticipation of seeing her tits revealed again was almost unbearable.

Then I touched the back of her hand with my fingers, and her hands slid away, leaving her perfect breasts naked. They were high and firm – her aurolae small and perfectly circular – her nipples brown sleepy buds. I caressed one in my spare hand. Silent tears flowed down her face. Her nipple remained small, unerect, bending this way and that as I rubbed my index finger against it. I closed my finger and thumb round it, and nipped it, sharply. She squealed in pain, and more tears ran down her cheeks.

I bent my head and took her other nipple in my mouth. I tongued it, and felt her shudder in revulsion. I smiled to myself and took it between my teeth and nipped it, just like the other one.

I stepped back again – I needed to see her – to see her beautiful body, naked to the waist. She was indescribably lovely. Her body was shapely, strong, glowing – she obviously worked at keeping it like that. Her shoulders were straight, her waist narrow, her belly flat, and her breasts were magnificent. I feasted my eyes on her. I noticed her nipples were now erect, and flicked them with my fingers. She shrank away, whimpering quietly.

Almost unconsciously, my fingers were pushing against the bulge in my trousers. I realised that her eyes were drawn to that, and I eased my zip down. I took my dick out and held it in my fist.

"Come here" I said, beckoning. She hesitated, then reluctantly stepped away from the wall. Her breasts jiggled slightly as she did so, and my cock jumped in my hand. I took my hand away. It stood, glistening slightly at the tip, a dangle of precum swinging from it.

"Take it," I said. She didn't move. Her eyes were dull, now – defeated, acquiescent. I took her hand and placed it on my erection. She held it, but only with the tips of her fingers. I reached up and felt her tits again. My cock grew in her hand, and, this time, I felt her nipples begin to harden again.

"Hold it properly," I growled, and her hand closed round my stiff dick. It was like a warm, soft glove. Tears were again running down her cheeks.

I moved my hand from one breast to the other. Her nipples were definitely erect – and her hand was no longer limply holding my penis. Her small fist was wrapped round it, and I could feel the pressure of her fingers. I gave her tits a hard squeeze and, involuntarily, her hand squeezed the shaft of my pulsating dick.