Breeding the Babysitter

I get home late, much later than I'd meant to. Again. Far too late to see my son; I'm sure the sitter's already put him to bed hours ago. It's tough making a living but not having much of a life...but if I'm going to provide for my family, I'll do what I have to.

Some of the lights are still on, at least, and I smile to myself as I walk up the drive, looking forward to a slice of cold pizza and a late-night chat with Emma. It's almost embarrassing to say, but lately I've been working so much my only socializing has been with my son's babysitter.

Something seems off, though, as I come through the front door and walk down the hall. The TV's still on in the living room, but Emma's nowhere to be found. Usually she's lounging on the couch, folding laundry and watching some cooking show or another. Not this time -- the room's empty, as are the kitchen and dining room.

"Emma? Tyler?"

Worried, I walk quickly to my son's room and find him sound asleep, safe and snug in his bed. I let out a sigh of relief; that's one mystery solved. But where's the sitter gone?

Could she have left early? She *has* been working hard, taking over a lot of the housework with my wife away on business so much. But it wouldn't be like her to just leave Tyler, and besides, she would've told me if something came up.

Also...that's her car still out front, I realize as I glance out the kitchen window. Perplexed, I check my phone and walk through the house once more.

That's when I notice a pair of jeans draped across the bottom of the stairs -- women's smalls, by the look of them. A gray shirt sits a few steps above that, bunched up against the wall.

My eyes narrow and I move closer, not really sure what it is I'm seeing. Did she leave some laundry laying around?

I step up to the shirt and spy a lavender B-cup bra resting on the bannister. And up on the landing above lies a silken thong, a petite garment of similar shade.

I stop dead in my tracks, staring at it. What the hell...

I climb the stairs with a sudden sense of foreboding, unable to tear my eyes away from that little scrap of silk. Up ahead the door to my bedroom lies ajar, a soft glowing light emanating from within. My heart hammers in my chest, my mouth gone dry, and it's almost fearfully that I approach, pushing on the handle and stepping in.

Inside I find Emma.

She's dressed in my wife's lingerie, lying across the foot of the bed, her slender young body lit by candlelight. Her pale skin is bare save for the small bits covered by the matching baby blue g-string and bra. My wife's pearls are around her neck and in her ears, and her makeup is sultry and subtle, a flush of excitement coloring her cheeks, her red-brown hair cascading down her shoulders.

"Hi Mister L," she says in a shaky voice, biting her lip.

"Emma wh...what? What is this?" I stop and stare, struggling to process what it is I'm seeing; she gives me a nervous, doe-eyed look, the color of her eyes almost the same as the lingerie.

"Don't you...like it?" she asks shyly, cringing subtly under my disbelieving gaze.

I do like it -- that's the problem. Her skin positively glows in the half-light, smooth and supple, her nearly-bared body a forbidden delight I'd never realized I needed. Until now. My hands start to shake. She looks so much better in that outfit than my wife ever has.

"Emma I...I don't understand," I stammer, backing away a step and fumbling to shut the door behind me.

"I wanted to surprise you," she smiles nervously. "I thought you might want to relax. After a long day at work."

She bites her lip again and slides off the bed, stepping lightly on bare feet across the space between us. My heart feels like it's about to burst out of me as she draws near, her petite body barely as tall as my chest.

"Oh god Emma...I can't...we can't..." I step away again, my back to the door now, my mouth gone dry.

"We *can*," she says emphatically, imploring me with her eyes, touching my work shirt with her fingertips. "Let me take care of you, Mr. L. I take care of everything else, I just want to...to do this too."

I shake my head and catch her wrist, trying to think straight. Trying to ignore the way my cock throbs, the way my palms itch to feel every inch of her. "Emma, I'm married. Susan would--"

"Susan's not here," she says, a flicker of resentment in her eyes. "Susan's *never* here -- she's *always* away, she's always leaving the two of you. But now...now you have me. And now it...it can be the three of us. And...and I can be better than her. For both of you."

She gives me a desperate look, leaning in against the hand that caught her wrist, rubbing her cheek against my knuckles. "Just let me, Mr. L. *Please*. You've been working so hard -- just let me. I want to...I want to be your girl. I want to be your woman. I want to have what *she* has...and I want to do it better."

Her eyes are gorgeous twin sapphires that I just can't escape; I can't fucking think straight, not when she stares at me like that. And I'm rock fucking hard. I've been so focused on work I haven't had release since I don't know when, and all of me aches as she puts her lips to the back of my hand.

"Oh god. Emma..."

*This is fucked. This is crazy. This is how you fuck your life up.*

Some small part of my brain still works at least -- but as she runs her other hand up my chest and around my neck, those contrarian thoughts get easier and easier to ignore.

She presses herself to me, and I can't fucking take it. I kiss her, hard, grabbing her slender hips and pulling her against me, my raging manhood pulsing between us. Her taste is exquisite, her lips soft and sweet; I drink her in, lost in her taste, in the way her body melts into mine. Before I even know what I'm doing, I'm lowering her wrist, guiding her hand to the bulging shape behind my zipper.

"Oh Mr. L, yes, *yes*," she moans against my lips, kissing me desperately, standing on her tiptoes to do so. All I can do is growl and groan; I'm so goddamn worked up as she grabs me through my work pants, the size of me filling her hand. I seize her pert, pale little ass, unthinking, unreasoning, only knowing a desperate, aching hunger in my loins.

"Oh my god I can feel it...Oh my god, I want it Mr. L, I *need* it. I...I need it so bad. I'll take care of it every day just let me have it *please*." She begs with me, writhing in my arms; it's too much, I feel like I'm going to fucking explode already.

"Fuck. Oh fuck. Emma...Ok. Get it sweetie. Take it out. It's yours. Tonight, it's all yours," I growl, scarcely recognizing my own rough voice.

She gives a needy whine and opens my belt buckle, digging into my briefs, her small hands exploring the shape of me, huge and hard and about ready to burst.

"Oh my god. Oh my god Mr. L," she whispers, her eyes lighting up. I can feel her trembling against me, her heartbeat racing as I throb in her grip, as she squeezes my straining flesh. I kiss her again, delirious with need, and put my hands on hers, guiding her. Showing her how I'm to be stroked.

"Oh Mr. L...Oh *yes*, this is what I want. Oh my..."

"Good girllll," I purr against her, shushing her with another kiss. She moans softly into my mouth as I show her how to pleasure me, her delicate fingers feeling absolutely divine. I'm so fucking close already; weeks of nothing but work has me ready to go almost right away.

She seems to read this as she pulls back and starts to nod, a greedy, delighted smile slowly spreading across her face as she giggles and kisses her way down the buttons of my shirt, ending up on her knees, pulling down my pants. My cock springs forth and she marvels at the up-close sight of it, her big blue eyes glued to its engorged shape as she strokes, my precum drooling onto the carpet.

"Oh fuck...oh shit," I exhale, barely able to hold back, her sweet face upturned and against me now as she strokes my cock against her cheek, an ecstatic look on her face. She turns to kiss my shaft, humming happily, and that's what does it -- I'm past the point of no return. I groan loud and grab my head, pumping furiously as she starts to flutter her tongue against the base of my shaft.

"Oh god, baby...fuck. There it is sweetie, there it is--"

"Oh my god Mr. L, yes yes yes *please*."

Her pleading drives me wild and I cry out, all of me locking up; I give a violent jerk and then I start to cum, spurting hard, spraying my seed all across the room. Emma holds her face against it as I go, feeling my cock muscles work, her eyes closed in rapture. Gasping, I paint stripes of myself across the carpet, oozing drops of it onto her in between great bursts. It's all I can do to stay standing, the intensity of my orgasm nearly putting me out on my feet.

When my vision clears, I see Emma still crouched between my legs, an ecstatic look on her face, my dripping cock still clutched in her tiny hands. I'm still hard, still huge -- she's woken something dormant in me, and I'm hungry for more.

"Wow Mr. L...I can't believe you had so much in you," she giggles as I reach down and pull her to her feet. I smile, her slender body so alluring in my arms, and start to walk her backwards towards the bed.

"I've got more," I promise as I settle her at the foot of the mattress, kissing her cheek and wiping up a splotch of cum from her temple, dabbing it against her lips. She giggles again and licks it off, then catches my hand and sucks my fingers clean, eyeing me provocatively as she does.

Fuck. I'm hard as hell again already, her little body doing things to me that no dick pill ever could. Already I want her again, and it's with a desirous moan that I start to kiss my way down her body, her twenty-year-old skin so supple and soft. She whines and chews her cheek at my touch; my hands find their way to her hips, and then I'm tugging my wife's lingerie off her, baring her smooth soaked cunt to me.

"Mr. L..."

"Oh shit..." I murmur in wonder. It's my turn to be mesmerized, her hairless pink pussy glistening with arousal. She's dripping wet -- she's so hot I can smell her. My mouth starts to water.

"Oh my god Emma...Oh my *god*. I need to taste it baby. I need to; you've been a good girl, now you need to sit there and let me taste it."

"Mmhmm," she nods in nervous arousal, her eyes the size of dinner plates. "Okay..."

I look down at her naked little slit, the sight of it nearly driving me insane; it's with awestruck reverence that I press my face between her legs, softly kissing her swollen lips.

Her response is immediate -- she gasps and starts to moan, loud and wanton, and the sound of it just urges me on. I start to suck at her folds, running her flesh between my lips, her juices dripping into my mouth. I kiss her clit and she yips, her hips bucking, trying to press her little hole against my face.

"Oh that's perfect baby, that's perfect," I groan as she moans loud, as she claps two hands over her mouth. I start to work my fingers inside her, flicking her little nub with my tongue, enamored of the little trills I feel running through her body.

She squeals into her palms as I lap her up with broad strokes, getting my whole face into it, smearing myself in her delectable juices. I'm in heaven, and without thinking I'm already stroking myself, already preparing for what's next.

When I stand up and drop my dick between her legs, she gives a long low moan of need. "Ohh Mr. L yes, yes *please*. Oh make me your woman Mr. L, please..."

She's shaking, her body all aflutter, her eyes bright and desperate as she looks up at me. I grab her hips and pull her to me, my manhood rubbing against her gushing young pussy. I feel her heat, and I groan.

"Oh my god...you're so fucking wet sweetie..."

"Oh Mr. L," she moans. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum--"

"Not yet," I hiss, "Not yet baby." Then I push myself inside, her cunt giving a wet squelch as it slides all around me.

Her eyes roll back in her head and she makes a high-pitched whimper, her breath coming fast and shallow. I'm nearly overwhelmed myself, her hot wet grip clutching me, clinging to me, drawing me deeper in.

It's when I rock myself further inside that she gasps and arches back, overcome. "Now baby, do it for me. Go on sweetie," I urge as she starts to cum. Her mouth falls open, making needy little noises, her eyes locked on mine as she squeezes my arms. Her thighs quiver and I feel her start to spasm, her pussy clamping down on me, her whole body shaking as a massive orgasm rips through her, making her mindless with pleasure as she leaks and moans on my cock.

I lean in and kiss her again and again, fucking through her climax, my hips pumping in and out as she shakes, her tight little cunt so hot and wet. My balls ache, and she doesn't stop wailing as I drive deeper and deeper into her; suddenly, I'm ready to burst as well.

I chase that feeling, heedless of all else -- I take her harder, deeper, faster until I can't hold back any more, and then with a gut-wrenching cry I start to release inside. Hot and heavy and powerful, my essence explodes into her and she lets out a little scream of surprise, her eyes wide as I fill her.

"Oh my god Mr. L oh my god, yes YES. Oh yes *give* it to me, make me your woman, mmm...make me a woman, Mr. L. Make me a mommy."

I shudder, gasping as the last of me flows forth into her, and it's then that the haze clears. I blink, suddenly realizing what's happened, suddenly seeing the situation anew. Beneath me is my son's twenty-year old babysitter, red-faced and looking up at me lovingly, her fertile young slit absolutely oozing with my seed.

"Oh shit...Oh god, Emma. Oh no."

*This is how you fuck your life up.*

What the hell have I done?