Miss Ridge, The Babysitterbydowd_elwood_p©
Her quick little stride caused her heels to click furiously on the floor and her pale, round cheeks to wink vigorously back and forth down the hallway. My hard-on slew from side to side under my baggy shorts. As we entered the bathroom, the warm, humid air enveloped me, and moisture dewed on my bare skin. Miss Ridge positioned herself behind me as I faced the tub. Her heels tapped in staccato on the linoleum as she manoeuvred awkwardly in the confined space. Finally, she sat down on her haunches and, in the same movement, pulled my shorts onto the floor. My erection flung into the open and wavered unashamedly in the open air.
A plan formed in my mind. When Miss Ridge left to let me take my bath, I would jerk off in the toilet, and thus disarm myself. My rebelliously stiffening member would no longer embarrass me for the rest of the night. After all, I certainly had enough mental images from the bedroom to facilitate a fast hand-job.
"Get in, Timothy," she instructed and stood up to get a washcloth.
The bath was nice and warm, not too hot. When the water embraced my aroused shaft, it felt soothing. I wanted to slide down and let the relaxing water wash over my whole body, but instead, I hunched over my submerged erection to hide it.
I waited for Miss Ridge to leave, but instead, she kneeled beside the tub. Taking the soap from the wall holder, she wetted the washcloth and sudsed it up. ... Wait a minute! She was going to wash me? She was really taking her babysitting responsibilities way too literally.
"Lean forward, Timothy," she instructed me, "I'm going to start with your back." The soapy cloth slid smoothly over my skin and felt wonderfully sensual. She was very thorough, washing my back, chest, arms and legs, and even detailing the crevices of my ears and the spaces between my fingers and toes. I tried to blank my mind, but the slippery cloth felt too good, and her swaying bust-line had me transfixed.
When she washed my feet, I looked over the edge of the tub to see the back of her thong diving between her bum cheeks and the silkiness of her stockings rubbing smoothly against each other. My erection ... I couldn't control it, dammit ... My erection pushed up like a periscope stealthily breaking the surface of the water.
Miss Ridge looked down to see my little knob cresting the surface of the water. ... "I'm sorry," I pleaded pitifully, but she just grinned and looked at me through a cocked eye. With a finger and thumb, she lightly pinched my exposed head and raised the periscope entirely out of the water, pulling my hips up in the process. "Were you afraid that I wasn't going to wash you down there, Timothy?"
"No ... I uh ..."
She wobbled my hard-on back and forth. "Hmmm?"
"Uhhh ..." What did she want me to say?!! A shiver went down my penis and into my balls as it vibrated back and forth. Dropping the washcloth in the water near the tap, she picked up the bar of soap. "Lift up your hips, Timothy. I want you to keep it out of the water," she instructed.
I did as she asked. Leaning back on my elbows, I supported my ass cheeks with my hands and thrust my hips up above the water. Miss Ridge sudsed up her hand, dropped the soap in the water and then gently caressed my swollen pole. ... Wow!! It felt terrific. No woman had ever touched me like that before! ... She stroked its length gently with her soapy fist. ... If I hadn't been so scared, I probably would have cum immediately.
Up and down, her languid strokes squished along my tingling skin and over top of my sensitive knob. Up and down, up and down, her hand glided and pulled. I looked over at her soft, pink cleavage. One of her breasts was smushed down on the top edge of the tub, causing the mound to pour over top of the barely supportive bra. Up and down, up and down, her arm moved. A loose bra strap threatened to fall off her shoulder and slide down her arm, letting everything tumble out into the open. Up and down, up and down, the squishing fist sucked and spit its soapy foam on my pulsating rod. ... Suddenly, the phone rang again. This time, it was the house phone. ... ARGHHH!! Don't answer it! I was getting close.
"I had better get that," she explained as she left the bathroom. "It might be your mother. ... Don't move!" I looked down disconsolately at my abandoned penis, and it looked back at me in utter disbelief.
Soon, Miss Ridge returned to the bathroom with a soapy hand held out away from her and the cordless phone wedged between an ear and shoulder. "Yes, Claire," Miss Ridge spoke into the phone as she returned to the side of the tub and kneeled down. Claire?? Why would Claire be calling me?
"No, I'm sorry," she continued, motioning to me with her soapy hand to raise my hips up higher. "Timothy is taking his bath right now and then he will be going to bed." Oh gawd! What was she saying? Claire is one of the most popular girls at school. I was allowed to hang around with her and Stephanie, but that association was not guaranteed, and right now I was at risk of being completely humiliated. "No, I'm his babysitter," she added. AHHH!!! I was doomed.
Miss Ridge reached down and began stroking me again. "Yes, Claire. That's right," she said. It was heaven and hell now. It felt amazingly kinky to be masturbated while the subject of most of my wet dreams was on the other end of the phone, but at the same time, I was afraid of what was going to be said. Her hand squished and pumped.
"No, I wouldn't want him to be out beyond his bedtime." Arghh! ... Along my cock's length, her hand glided. "Yes, a textbook. He did mention a textbook." Pumping and pumping. "Rebecca? No. ... Oh, wait. Yes, she is his girlfriend, isn't she?" AHHH!! Don't say that. ... Stroke and stroke and stroke. "Yes. Then come right over, and I will allow him to stay up so that he can give it to you." I wanted to cry ... but it felt so good!
Miss Ridge stopped her pumping in order to disconnect the phone. She then turned back to me and moved her arm towards the tub. ... Yes! Finish me off! Finish me off! ... But instead, she dunked her soapy hand in the water and rinsed it off. ... NOOOOO!!
"We need to get you dressed. You are going to have company," she explained. "Get yourself dried off, and I will go and get your pyjamas," she said as she strutted out of the room. I settled back down into the bath again and rinsed off. My penis was throbbing.
*** The Textbook ***
Climbing out of the tub, I grabbed a big bath towel and ran it over my body.
Pyjamas?? I haven't had pyjamas since I was in grade school. Nevertheless, Miss Ridge returned with something. They were long and white and stretchy – they were my running leotards! The ones that I wear under my shorts to stay warm and to prevent chafing. I couldn't wear those! Not in front of Claire!
"Here," she said, handing them to me, "Get these on."
"But ..." The instant the word came out of my mouth, Miss Ridge wheeled around and glared at me. There was a lot of "I dare you" in that glare. With her guests coming over later, she must have been feeling pressure from running out of time. I felt barred from pursuing my objection.
"Yes, Miss Ridge," I replied and stretched the leggings on. The material clung mercilessly to me, revealing every bump and mole. And, of course, when I finished pulling them up, my aroused cock and heavy balls were prominently displayed. I looked directly at my groin to draw attention to the problem, as if it wasn't obvious enough, but at that moment, the doorbell rang. Claire must have phoned from her car on the way here.
"Miss Ridge, can I go put something else on?" I tried meekly.
Miss Ridge halted in mid stride. When she wheeled around, I could see fire in her eyes. She loomed towards me. "Was that a question?" she asked in a barely controlled seethe. She grabbed onto my balls and pulled them down firmly until it felt like she was going to pull them off. ... Ow! ... "Am I to understand that I have to answer a question before I run to put on my robe? Before I rush to answer the door for your friends? Before you comply with what I asked you to do the first time?" She then gave my balls a good yank.
"AAAHHH!! ... No, Miss Ridge," I replied through my contorted face.
"Then go get your textbook and meet me at the front door!" she commanded and then left hurriedly.
I shook out my balls and went to my room. What to do? What to do? I thought fleetingly about scrambling into my street clothes, despite the furor that would have erupted after Claire left, but I didn't dare. In any case, I was soon being called to the door. "Timothy, your little friend is here," she called in a suddenly sweet tone. Gawd, how embarrassing.
I slinked into the living room with the textbook in front of me. I hoped to just get this over with quickly. Miss Ridge was engaging Claire in some discussion at the front door. Then, Claire turned to look at me. ... Her eyes grew wide in surprise. Despite my attempt to cover myself, my bare top and leotard leggings must have still looked pretty odd.
When I reached the door, I handed the book to Claire, who zipped it away immediately in order to get a full view. I tried to cover myself with my hands, but I was too late. Claire raised a hand to her mouth to prevent herself from laughing out loud. When I finally got enough nerve to look her in her eyes, all I could see was the glint of amazed disbelief and barely suppressed laughter. I averted my eyes and redoubled my effort to cover myself.
"Claire tells me that Rebecca is outside in the car," Miss Ridge informed me in a misguided attempt to be helpful. "I think it would be a good idea for you to take the textbook out to her in person." I shot an immediate look of disagreement and disbelief at her. She wasn't serious, was she?
"I think that would be a great idea," Claire added mischievously. My head and searing stare snapped over at her, but when she brought her hand up to cover her wicked smile again, I knew that my embarrassment and anger were playing right into her hand.
"But I'm not dressed," I pleaded.
"I think you look okay," offered Claire, the back-stabber.
"I agree," concurred Miss Ridge. "Here, just put on some slippers, and you'll be fine. You will only be outside for a moment."
Looking down, I saw that she had gathered together a pair of my mother's pink, furry slippers for me to wear. This was getting worse. I looked at her in complete disbelief, and out of the side of my eye, I could see Claire glinting and smirking.
"Put them on and take the textbook to the car, Timothy," Miss Ridge said in a low, firm voice that indicated that the threshold of her patience was being reached. "I have guests coming over soon, so we can't stand here all night."
Dejectedly, I shuffled into the slippers and turned towards the door, which Claire was holding open with great glee. My world was coming to an end. As the pending scene of embarrassment played out in my head, a cold anxious feeling pulled up on my balls and pushed out on my rigid penis. I slupped out onto the front stoop.
"Stephanie! Becky!" called out Claire, provoking a rustling movement in the back of the car. ... Oh, no.
I tried to take the textbook from Claire, but she pulled it back, probably realizing that I would use it as a shield. My final hope, that the dim evening light would mask my shame, was cut short when my "babysitter" turned on the front light.
Claire giggled, grabbed my hand and practically dragged me down the driveway. At the car, I noticed that no one occupied the front passenger seat and that both Stephanie and Rebecca were in the back. We approached the rear, passenger-side window. I didn't want to look, but when I finally lifted my eyes, I caught sight of Rebecca glaring at me in a disbelieving stupor. Beside her, Stephanie was almost doubled over in laughter. "Hey, where's the ballet, Nureyev?" she guffawed.
Behind me, Claire was laughing too, but she was trying to keep her composure in order to continue poking at my situation. Her hands were gripping and massaging my butt teasingly, which is something that I had always dreamed of, but not like this. My hard-on pressed desperately up against the stretchy material.
"Look, Becky," Claire taunted, "Your b-o-y-friend's here." ... Oh, no. Claire had picked up on Miss Ridge's telephone indiscretion and had probably made light of it on the way over. Rebecca stared at me in complete bewilderment ... No, it was utter embarrassment.
Claire handed me the textbook and opened the car door. "Here, Becky," Claire chided, "Timmy brought you your book." I handed her the book, which she took falteringly. "Nice woody!" Stephanie yelled out from the other side of the car, which caused Rebecca to look down reflexively and then away nervously.
"Hmmm," cooed Claire, as she reached around from behind and massaged my erection with her hand through my leotard. "Yeah! Look at how hard you are, Timmy." Her palm pressed firmly against the underside of my cock and buffed it forcefully. "Who is that for?" Rub, rub, rub. "Becky?" Rub, rub, rub. "Is it for Becky?" Rub, rub, rub. "Is it for your girlfriend?" Rub, rub, rub. ... Oh gawd, I wasn't going to be able to hold myself back. I was too nervous, and Claire's rubbing felt too good. Rebecca strained to keep her eyes averted from Claire's scene, but the occasional nervous glance down told me that she was having difficulty ignoring us.
Suddenly, Claire shoved me forward and across Rebecca's lap. "Here, Becky. I think Timmy has something else to give you." Stephanie reached across and grabbed my wrists, anchoring me to the spot, and Claire reached in and grabbed Rebecca's closest hand, which she planted firmly on my shaft. Claire vibrated Rebecca's palm furiously against my hard-on, and Rebecca helplessly let it happen.
I thought about the situation, about the humiliation I was experiencing, about the near-orgasms I had had earlier in the evening and about Rebecca's hand being on my penis, and I lost control. I came in a violent jerk. "Aaaghh!!!" The cum sprayed against the nylon and spread forcefully all around my bulge. A lot of it seeped through the material and soaked Rebecca's hand. She tried to pull it away, but Claire forced her to continue stroking me.
I convulsed two or three more times and lost track of what was going on. I instinctively tried to move away from Rebecca to keep from getting her wet, but Stephanie's pulling made me fall back into Rebecca's lap, causing my wet spot to soak into Rebecca's skirt near her crotch.
I struggled and finally broke free of Stephanie, who was laughing too hard to keep a grip on me anyways. When I extricated myself from the back seat, I saw Claire leaning against the car's back fender and holding her stomach in laughter. When I looked back at Rebecca, I saw her looking back and forth in shock between her wet hand and her soiled skirt.
That was it! That was really it!! I marched back up to the house in a huff. I was mad now. From behind me, Claire, barely able to catch her breath, wished me good-bye, "Good night, Tinkerbell." ... I fumed.
The front door had closed and locked, and I was forced to ring the bell. I didn't care anymore what authority this Ridge bitch thought she had, I was going to let her know that I wasn't going to let her turn my world upside down. I was going to show her who was boss around here. I was going to make it absolutely clear to her that ... And then, the door opened.
Miss Ridge immediately grabbed my earlobe and yanked me into the house. I stumbled over my feet as I was propelled through the door. Looking down at my wet spot, she snapped at me accusingly, "What have you done?!!"
"Aaahh ..." I gasped.
With her hand still painfully pinching my earlobe, she pulled me across the living room floor, my feet barely able to stay under me. En route, the interrogation continued, "What was all the commotion out there?!! Why is there a wet stain in your pants?!!"
"It's ... Well, I ... uh ..." I tripped and faltered.
"Did you pee your pants?!!"
"NO!! No, it's not that! I ... uh ... I ..."
"You mean you ejaculated!!" We halted for a second. "Did you just stand in your front yard and jerk off in front of all your neighbours?"
"No, I ..."
With a tug of her hand, we continued our journey. "Well, then, did you jump in the back seat and hump the girls in the car?"
"No, I ..."
"No, I ... No, I ... No, I ... No, I don't want to be a good boy tonight! No, I don't want to help Miss Ridge out when she's running out of time!" We ended up back in the corner of the living room near the door to the hallway. Miss Ridge gave a final push on my earlobe to force my nose up against the rough plaster again. She stood behind me and whipped down my leggings in a single, rapid pull that caused my butt cheeks to rebound slightly. As she held the cuffs at the ankles, I stepped out of them, and she used the soiled leotard to wipe off my groin ... roughly, very roughly.
"Don't move! I need to clean up the house. While I'm gone, I suggest that you decide when you want me to call your mother and have her return," she threatened me harshly. "Up on your toes!" she barked and then disappeared from my presence. The house settled into an unnatural quiet.
Well, I guess I showed her. ... I was such a pussy.
*** The Absolution ***
Miss Ridge flitted about the living room, tidying it up, and then retired to the kitchen, where I could hear cupboard doors banging and dishes clattering. The clash and clanging was very loud at first but then softened to a constructive level. After a while, the clicking of her heels forewarned me that she was on her way back. I held my breath.
She stood behind me, and there was silence in the room. I felt her eyes drilling into me from behind. My legs were quivering from the strain of being up on my toes. I braced for what was to come, but I was surprised by her change of tone. "Have you been playing with yourself, Timothy?" she asked calmly but with concern.
"No, Miss Ridge."
"Step away from the wall," she directed, and I took two steps back. She appeared at my side and inspected my groin. I was indeed flaccid.
"Timothy, I am sorry that I have to be rough with you, but I find that I can no longer trust you to be out of my sight," she advised me. "I am afraid that I will now have to keep my eye on you at all times. Do you understand that you have brought this on yourself?"
"Yes, Miss Ridge."
"I so want to trust you, but you are such a dirty little boy, aren't you Timothy?"
"Yes, Miss Ridge."
"Very well. Follow me," she ordered, and I fell in behind her clicking heels. We walked down the hall and into her room.
"Up against the wall, Timothy. I have to get ready for my guests."
I found a spot on her bedroom wall and pressed my nose up against it. This was going to be a long night.
"No, Timothy," she corrected me, "Turn around. When you face the wall, I can't tell what you are doing with yourself."
I did as I was told. Miss Ridge busied herself with her clothes. She removed her robe and hung it up. I marvelled again at how incredibly shapely she was. As she walked about the room, her butt cheeks squinched up and down, her legs flexed and tightened, and her breasts bobbed all around. She might be a bipolar maniac, but she was a sexy looking one, and I was starting to get turned on again.
She looked in the closet and took out what I initially thought was a slip but what turned out to be a little, black cocktail dress. There was not much to it. She laid it on the bed, and then she reached behind herself and unhooked her bra ... Oh, man! ... her bra.
Extricating her arms from her straps, she let the bra fall into her hand, and then she dropped it on the bed. Her breasts now swung freely. They were spectacular. Obviously, they hung lower than they had probably done earlier in her life, but they now had this sensual swoop to them, like little ski jumps. Her nipples sat just above the ends of the jumps and stood proudly erect over two quarter-sized aureoles. The hanging mounds looked like wonderfully squooshy pillows. My cock was coming back to life.