Babysitting... And Sitting and More Ch. 04

My eyes shot open when Mr. Jennings pulled his hand out of my shorts. I hadn't even remembered closing them. "How about a little music?" he said to no one in particular and reached for his phone. He pulled up Spotify and scrolled over to a "driving tunes" playlist before setting it to shuffle play. An upbeat rock song that sounded like it was from the 80s began to pour out of the Explorer's speakers. "And maybe a little of that countryside air to go with it," he said as he lowered the Explorer's windows halfway. He shot me a quick smirk before turning his eyes back to the road and returning his hand to the inside of my shorts.

I nibbled on the back of my hand while his fingertips teased my clit. I struggled to try to keep from moaning, but eventually gave it up and hoped the music would drown me out. My hand drifted down from my mouth to my other breast, and I began to gently pinch both nipples through my shirt. Waves of pleasure rippled over me as I wiggled my pussy across Mr. Jennings' hand. When his fingertip slipped between my wet lips, my mouth fell open, and I cried out.

"What's that, Jasmine?" Mrs. Jennings' voice sounded a million miles away.

"Just a leg cramp." My voice came out dry and raspy.

"Oh, those are the worst," she responded. "Harold, remember when I got that bad one after that 5k last year?" I could tell she had moved forward in her seat, because I could hear her voice right at the edge of my own seat. I shifted my hips away from her towards the door, but made no effort to stop Mr. Jennings from doing what he was doing.

"How could I forget?" he responded. "I thought I was going to have to put you down."

Mrs. Jennings' voice rolled with melodic laughter. "And then I kept yelling at Fran to cut my leg off."

"And all she kept saying was, 'we need to get you into an ice bath.'" Mr. Jennings seemed equally amused at recounting the story. But all the while, he kept strumming my pussy like a guitar. My eyes were rolling into the back of my head with the thrill of getting fingered literally under his wife's nose. I could only hope that with the windows down, her nose wouldn't pick up on it.

I tucked my fingers into the top of my crop top and yanked it down. It was already showing off good cleavage, so it took almost no effort before my caramel titties popped into view. It was my turn to smirk at Mr. Jennings when he glanced over and got an eyeful. He couldn't resist snaking his hand up from my shorts to grab a handful of my left tit. Again, I cried out—this time as his palm passed across my sensitive nipple. I coughed to try to cover it and hoped Mrs. Jennings wouldn't come any closer and wonder why her husband's arm was outstretched toward my seat.

Mr. Jennings' hand was slick with my juice, which he smeared across my breast. The breeze from the window quickly cooled it on my skin. Every squeeze and every pinch from his hand touched off a small explosion in the pit of my stomach as he worked his hand around my breast. With his hand preoccupied, I lowered my own hand into my shorts and picked up where he had left off. My body half doubled over on itself as I pressed a finger into the mouth of my pussy, grazing my clit as I went. Refusing to be outdone, Mr. Jennings pulled his hand from my tit, giving my nipple one last pinch. His hand pushed mine out of the way, and he resumed gently finger-fucking me. My eyelids fell closed as I surrendered my body to him.

They flew open moments later at the unmistakable sound of a car horn to my right. When I glanced over, I saw a man in his 20s wearing a red baseball cap and hanging out the window of a large pickup truck. He was giving me a thumbs up and gawking at my bare tits with a grin that ran from ear to ear. Between his oversized tires and him staring at my chest, he was struggling to keep his truck from sideswiping us or running off the road.

"What's with that guy?" Mrs. Jennings called out.

I knew that if I didn't end my show, Mr. Jennings and I were going to get busted by his wife. But my brain was swimming in pleasure and could no longer make rational decisions. Instead of putting my tits away, I simply covered them with my hands and twisted away from the window as best as I could and put my right foot on the dashboard to try to block the man's view of Mr. Jennings' hand. As it turned out, this had the added benefit of giving Mr. Jennings direct access to me.

He finally spoke up as if noticing the truck for the first time. "Huh. Now, you see? That's why I pay extra for the tire and wheel shine," Mr. Jennings said over his shoulder to his wife, even as he pushed a second finger into my pussy. "You claim it's a waste of money, but it's a head turner. Look at that guy."

"Yes! I am looking at that guy. He's driving like a maniac." Mrs. Jennings' voice was dripping with contempt. At least she was focused on something other than what was going on in the front seat. My chest was heaving with quick, shallow breaths, and I was biting the inside of my cheek to try to keep from moaning too loudly. "Harold, speed up, or slow down, or do something before that guy runs us off the road."

The Explorer's engine growled as Mr. Jennings punched up his speed. At the same time, I could hear a rumble next to us and knew the guy in the pickup was trying to stay with us.

"Go faster!" Mrs. Jennings' voice was louder and getting higher in pitch. In response, Mr. Jennings went faster—with the gas pedal and with his fingers. "Faster, Harold!"

"Yes! Faster!" I called out before I had a chance to stop myself. The Explorer's engine roared as we raced down the highway with the truck next to us pacing us as we went.

"Seriously, what is he doing? Knock it off, you prick," Mrs. Jennings shouted out the window. "For crying out loud, he's going to get us killed."

The needle on the Explorer's speedometer was approaching 105 mph. The thrill of us drag racing through the countryside and risking certain death coupled with getting fingered by a man just inches from his wife was too much. My hips lifted off the seat and I thrusted my hips at Mr. Jennings' hand as he brought me off. I tucked my chin to my chest and bit down on my tongue so hard I thought it was going to start bleeding. I tried to choke back a scream in my throat but the sound still came out loudly.

"What's wrong, Jasmine?" Mrs. Jennings' voice had the air of genuine concern. She reached around the right side of my seat and put her hand on my shoulder. If her hand went any further, she would've been wondering why she could feel the bare skin of my chest.

I reached up and grabbed onto her hand while continuing to buck on her husband's hand. "Leg cramp again...I'm...unnnnnhhh...trying to shake it out," I said through gritted teeth.

"Maybe you're dehydrated. Here, I'll get you a bottled water from the cooler," she said, pulling her hand free.

"Oh my God...ohhhh...my...mmmmm." Knowing her back was momentarily turned, I grabbed Mr. Jennings' arm and tried to steady his hand as I fucked his fingers through my orgasm. For his part, he maintained his composure and kept the Explorer going straight in our lane. "Yeah...that's it right there," I sighed when I began coming back down to earth.

"Here you go, Jasmine," Mrs. Jennings brushed the cold bottle against my shoulder. I shivered at the touch of it...and at her husband's touch.

"Thank you," I said through labored breathing. My thanks were meant as much for Mr. Jennings as for her.

I lowered my foot from the dashboard and took the bottle. Mr. Jennings gave my tortured pussy one last stroke before withdrawing his hand. I laid my head back against the seat and pressed the bottle to my damp forehead, savoring the feel of the cold plastic. It took a moment for me to realize we were still hurtling down the road with the pickup truck next to us. I dropped the bottle into my lap and pulled my bra and shirt back into place. Another horn beep from the pickup drew my attention. The man was still flashing his toothy grin and gave me another thumbs up. Realizing he'd just watched me cum made me want to open the door and throw myself under the wheels of his truck. I turned away and put my hand next to my face, blocking my view of him. He must've taken that as a sign that the show was finally over. A loud roar echoed from his truck as he pulled past us. As he did, I could feel the Explorer losing speed. The pickup continued to increase the gap between us until he disappeared around a curve in the road.

"What an absolute psycho," Mrs. Jennings' said, using the tone of her voice to give him the finger.

"You got that right," Mr. Jennings said, speaking for the first time in what seemed like an hour. In fairness, he'd had a lot to focus on. "Try to relax honey. We'll be there soon."

"Ok," I sighed contentedly and laid my head back again. Somewhere at the edge of sleep, I realized "honey" had been meant for his wife.

The sound of a door shutting jolted me awake. The sun was low in the sky, but there was still plenty of light out. We were stopped at the end of a dirt road surrounded by trees. A large, one-story house with a wood exterior sat about twenty yards off the road.

Mr. Jennings walked around the front of the Explorer and stopped with his hands on his hips as if he was surveying a wild frontier. He turned back to the SUV, smiling, and gestured at the cabin. Mrs. Jennings was getting Alex out of his car seat.

I opened my door and swung my legs out before realizing my shorts were still unbuttoned. I quickly refastened them before Mrs. Jennings came around the Explorer with Alex in her arms. We walked up the steps to a large, polished wooden door that foreshadowed the luxurious interior that awaited behind it.

Mr. Jennings unlocked the door and pushed it open to reveal a cavernous living space accented with leather furniture and a large TV. I smiled inwardly as I recalled Mrs. Jennings' earlier dig at him about "roughing it." The living area was partially divided from a dining area that was dominated by a glass-top dining table and chairs that looked like they'd been swiped from a Hollywood mansion. Craning my head to the right, I could make out a kitchen beyond the dining area outfitted with stainless steel appliances. A hallway ran in the opposite direction from the living area. I assumed at least one bedroom and bathroom were somewhere along it.

"So, Jasmine, what do you think?" Mr. Jennings stepped into the center of the room with his arms outstretched.

"I have to admit, I was apprehensive when you both first mentioned the idea of coming to a cabin in the woods. I didn't expect anything like this. It's beautiful."

"It's alright," Mr. Jennings waved his hand dismissively. "This is barely a step above living in a log cabin in the 1800s."

Mrs. Jennings rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure Abraham Lincoln's log cabin had a hot tub too."

"Hot tub?" I shrieked, sprinting to the back sliding-glass door.

Mr. Jennings followed me over. "It's kinda crappy to be honest. It takes forever for it to heat up."

"If first-world problems were a person, it'd be you," Mrs. Jennings said with a chuckle. "Jasmine, when Harold is done feeling sorry for himself, could you give him a hand bringing in our stuff? I'm going to give Alex a bath."

"Sure thing."

I peeled my eyes away from the hot tub and the rest of the gorgeous interior and followed Mr. Jennings back out to the Explorer. He raised the tailgate with the key fob as we approached, and I went to the back to start grabbing a few of the bags of food we'd brought with us. I interlaced my fingers in the handles of two of the bags and was about to pull them out when I suddenly felt Mr. Jennings press up behind me. He leaned forward and brushed his face against my hair, inhaling the scent of my green apple shampoo, while his hands went to my hips.

"I'm so glad you come up here with us." Mr. Jennings reached up and swept my hair away from my neck and pressed his lips against my skin. Goosebumps broke out along my forearms and oranges threatened to spill from the bag in my hand as my muscles went slack. I slumped back against his chest and surrendered myself to him for the second time in the same day.

"Why are you so glad I came up here with you?" My voice was barely a whisper.

"Because I've missed you so much." Mr. Jennings gently nibbled my neck just below my ear. I would've been putty in his hands but for the words he'd used. I'd heard them before. And every time I'd heard them, he ended up casting me aside and throwing his wife in my face.

I jerked my head away from him and resecured the bags. Arching my back, I bumped him out of the way with my butt and stepped past him. Mr. Jennings ran to catch up. "Hey, hey, what's the problem?" He grabbed my arm when I ignored him and tried to keep walking.

I raised my eyebrows at him. "What's the problem? What's the problem? What do you think the problem is? The problem is you're married." I practically spat the words at him. "You've always been married. You'll always be married." Mr. Jennings winced, but I kept at it. "And where does that leave me? I'm just your babysitter. I'm nothing to you." I tried to pull free, but Mr. Jennings wouldn't let go.

"Jasmine, wait, no, that's not true."

"It is true," my voice was getting louder. "It's never just us. It's always you and her. It's only us when she isn't looking. And then you always go running right back to her."

"She's my wife. She's the mother of my child." Mr. Jennings was getting louder now too. "What do you want from me?"

"I want—I want—for once, I want you to treat me like I'm not the leftovers. For once, I want you to treat me like she's not around."

"Well, whose pussy was I touching on the way up here?" His words were like a dagger of ice that made me physically recoil.

I rolled my wrist and pulled my arm free. Turning on my heels, I stomped toward the cabin without another word. Mr. Jennings raced around me and stopped in my path. I stepped to the side, but he sidestepped with me, blocking me. He did it again when I changed direction.

"Are you going to let me get by?" I was seriously considering hitting him with one of the bags. But instead of moving out of my way, he stepped up to me and cradled my chin in his hands. Before I even had a chance to protest, his lips were pressed against mine with a raw passion we hadn't shared in far too long. I didn't remember dropping the bags, but when I came up for air, the bags were on the ground and my arms were wrapped around his back.

Mr. Jennings was still cradling my chin. "Yes, you're right. I am married. And I love my wife. And I love my son. But that doesn't mean I have no feelings for you. You ignite a passion in me that I never knew existed. You make me feel alive. You make me feel whole. When I look into your eyes and see you looking back at me, it's like I'm looking beyond the edge of the universe."

And there it was. I'd been wrong all along, even up to this moment. In spite of it all, I was the one he really wanted, not her. His wife was just an unfortunate speed bump in his life. If he'd met me sooner, he'd be with me instead of her. She may have had his child, but I had his heart.

I raised my hands to the back of his head and pulled it toward me as I leaned forward to kiss him. My fingers ran through his hair, my fingernails gently stroking his scalp as our tongues intertwined. The heat of his body warmed me against the cooling forest around us as the sun began to set.

Our kiss didn't even break when Mr. Jennings suddenly dropped his hands to my ass and lifted me into the air. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me back toward the Explorer. He lowered me to the ground at the back of it and pulled his lips away from mine as he turned me away from him to face the open back of the SUV. My mouth fell open as his lips once again found the side of my neck. I reached back and grabbed the back of his neck to keep his head next to mine, but he needed no encouragement. His tongue slid along the base of my neck to my earlobe before he gently grazed it with his teeth. My body squirmed against his, my ass grinding against his hard cock. Even through his pants, I could feel that he wanted me here and now.

I wasn't surprised when his hands went to the button on my shorts, and I made no attempt to stop him. When they were undone, he slipped his hand into the front of them and into the waistband of my panties as smoothly as he had done when we were on the road. There was no fakery on my part about not wanting him as I parted my legs to give him easier access. He spread my lips with two fingers and ran a third between them. My hips swiveled, and my heart raced in anticipation him bringing me off with his fingers again, but he had other plans for me.

As I turned my head and pulled on the back of his neck to kiss him, he stepped away from me while pushing me forward and bending me over into the back of the Explorer. My face broke into a wide grin as he lowered my shorts to my knees and gently smacked each of my ass cheeks in turn. I could hear him fumbling with his belt buckle and the shuffling of clothing. A moment later, I felt the spongy head of his cock probing the lips of my pussy. It was a dangerous prospect given that his wife could pop out the front door of the cabin any second, but I didn't hesitate in inching backwards to meet him. Mr. Jennings pushed into me and slammed himself home while I did my best to brace myself on a box of pasta. He withdrew, and slammed into me again, the force nearly sending me head first into one of the coolers in the back of the Explorer. My pussy stretched around his steel shaft as he forked himself in and out of me, over and over. His hands went to my ass and squeezed as his hips crashed against it. The sound of skin slapping against skin carried across the evening air, punctuated by our mutual groans.

"Mmmm...so good...you feel so good," he cried out as his cock sawed through my pussy lips.

I could only respond with "unnhh... unnhh... unnhh," while mangling the box of pasta under my hands.

I wanted to cum again, but I didn't think Mr. Jennings would hold out long at this rate. I released the box of broken pasta and brought my hand to my clit. Mr. Jennings' slick cock brushed against my fingers as I framed my fingertips around my clit, rolling the skin back and forth to match his strokes.

There was a dull ache in the front of my thighs from being driven against the back of the Explorer, but the pleasure from my pussy helped block it out. Mr. Jennings was hitting me like a jackhammer now, and I was leaning onto my elbow to try to keep my head from destroying what was left of the groceries. He shifted his hands to my hips to pull me back to meet him, and my ass rippled with every violent thrust.

The heat of the sun was gone, but the heat from my pussy was like a cloak of fire. I was almost crying with pleasure. My legs became wobbly as I brought myself closer to the edge, but Mr. Jennings was going to beat me there. His strokes became irregular and he was almost groaning at the top of his lungs. I worried that we might be getting a little too loud, even at this distance from the cabin.

About a dozen strokes later, Mr. Jennings pulled out and splashed my ass and lower back with spurts of warm cum. The first shots skipped up my spine, and I was sure he'd gotten it on my shirt, but I was too close to cumming to care. My hand was a blur between my legs trying to push myself over the waterfall.

He was still milking his cock and smearing cum across my ass cheeks with his shaft when I exploded. My elbow gave out, and my torso fell onto the back of the Explorer as my body rang like a church bell.

"You fuck me so good...unnhhh...shit," I swore as I furiously rubbed my pussy through my second orgasm of the day. I was leaning completely onto the SUV, my feet now dangling in the air. Mr. Jennings stroked my upper back, every touch feeling like a flick of fire from a candle.