My Night with Lara and Evan

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Caitlin describes her night, babysitting for Lara and Evan.
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I suppose, looking back, you wonder how a lot of things happened in your life.

Most of them – all of them – seem very innocent. A string of mishaps at school – fourth form, fifth form. Some embarrassing enough that I rub my fingers into my eyes at the memory, groaning softly. But still, even the worst of them are so childish, compared to the night that I spent with Lara and Evan.

Good God – it's been a few weeks – and the memory of that night still makes me squirm, and squeeze my thighs together, no matter where I am. And what's funny is that I know exactly how it happened. The bread-crumb trail of events is clear in my mind. But that night has had an effect on me that I can't shake-off, and which has changed me somehow. And so, perhaps hoping for a better answer, I keep asking myself the question – how did that night with Lara and Evan happen?

One

I worked for Lara at her flower shop, through sixth form. If I was seventeen and eighteen at the time, Lara would have been in her late twenties. Evan, her husband, was a touch older, perhaps 32 or 33. He'd visit her in the shop, pick her up for lunch, and we'd smile and say hello. Did Evan flirt with me? No, not in the slightest. Did Lara flirt with me? Well, in hindsight, perhaps she did. Nothing outlandish. But a close, intimate friendship quickly developed with Lara – an older woman, but not so much older, running her own small business, with an attractive and attentive husband. She was a role model, and a friend, and perhaps something more intimate ebbed just below the surface when we were together. I remember moments in the shop where her hand rested on my lower back as we looked at an arrangement of flowers. Or sitting together after one of us made a run to the coffee shop, and trading a sip of her Caffe Americano for my iced white chocolate mocha, hands trading the warm coffee cups back and forth, her eyes smiling into mine as her tongue slid over her lips.

If Lara flirted with me, I was too young or too naïve to notice. She never pressed, and so nothing really stands out from the time I worked for Lara. Except for the warm, slightly reverent friendship I felt with this beautiful older woman who seemed to be doing everything right.

When I left Bath to study psychology at Leeds, we remained in touch via Instagram and Snapchat. I visited her when I came home for bank holidays and breaks. She and Evan had a baby early in my 2nd year at Leeds, and I ooed and ahhed via Insta like all her other friends. Second year passed, then third year, and then with my BSc finished, and feeling uncertain about next steps, I came home to Bath and worked for Lara again.

And so – that "how did it happen" question – part one of the answer is that I came home after university, and Lara needed me at the shop again.

Two

They needed a babysitter.

They had a wedding in Salisbury. Wanting to enjoy herself, Lara had pumped a few days' worth of breast milk in advance, so that I'd have some for the baby while they were gone, and she'd have some the next day when she was presumably hung-over. I went to their house in Newbridge early on a beautiful Sunday morning in July, and was given the tour of baby bottles, milk, change-table, nappies, pushchair, books, while Lara and Evan swirled around the house getting ready for the wedding.

And pardon my French – but sweet Fuck – they looked glorious.

I knew from an old flurry of party photos on Insta that Lara had crossed the "30" thresh-hold. I suppose she was 31 now. She was an inch or two taller than me, standing at about 5'8, and from girl-talk discussions about calorie-counts in our favourite coffees, I knew her weight hovered around 10 stone. She had long dark brown hair that reached below her shoulders, and while not a gym-goer, I knew that she was a dedicated walker. With Evan home looking after the baby, she went for long walks with their dog, and walking alone kept her trim, with lovely toned legs and curving hips that led up to her now nicely full breasts. The dress she was swirling around in that morning had a snug fitting bodice top, that flowed down to a maxi skirt, with ruching on the side. Sleeveless, with spaghetti straps at her shoulders, it was burgundy with a soft floral pattern.

Evan – well, picture 5'10 or 5'11 – with brown hair a bit softer in colour than Lara's near raven-black hair. A footballer and a swimmer, Evan had broad shoulders that tapered down to an athletic waist and legs. For the wedding he was in a tasteful grey – grey slacks, shoes and jacket, with a dark blue tie, and a slightly off-white dress shirt.

After each of them repeatedly told me things about the house and the baby and the TV that the other had already told me, they leapt into their car and sped off to Salisbury, and I spent the day, and evening, and night, with their not-quite two year old.

Three

Part three of the "how did it happen?" question, and likely the most important part, was what I was looking at on my phone when Lara's hands settled on my shoulders, and her voice, at my ear, whispered "that one is so sexy, Caitlin."

Oh my God. Sorry. Squirming here again. Fuck. She actually brushed my ear with her lips. Sometimes I wonder if she really did or not. I recreate that moment and feel like it was just her hands appearing on my shoulders, and her voice purring so close, and so unexpectedly, at my ear. But right now I'm sure of it. Her lips briefly brushed my right ear, as her breath stirred my hair. Damn. And now I'm squirming here as I type.

Okay okay okay. Fucccckkk.

Okay.

I didn't hear them come home.

That might even be a "Part Four" to the "how did it happen?" question.

I didn't hear the door open, didn't hear any voices. I think Lara probably entered the house first, and Evan came in a few minutes later, but either way, I didn't hear them come home. I was on the couch in their living room, just a table lamp glowing in the room, looking at lingerie on my cell phone, when Lara's hands settled on my shoulders.

Why lingerie? Well, not because I had a boyfriend or a hot date or any real reason to need lingerie. Alone, with the baby asleep, and time to kill, I'd watched a few shows on Netflix, and then I had switched to reading stories on an erotica site, and in one of the stories lingerie figured prominently. I finished the story and, now curious, found a lingerie site, and began scrolling, and exploring. When Lara's hands settled on my shoulders, and her voice purred "that one is so sexy, Caitlin," it was a somewhat ridiculous lace teddy, with an open crotch, and open bra cups, that was on my phone.

I wasn't startled. Or at least, I didn't jolt upright and drop my phone and physically react to her sudden appearance. I think I just turned my face towards her, over my right shoulder, and breathed her in. It was lovely. If she'd done more, if she'd slid her hands around my chest and hugged me, pressing her left cheek to my right, I think I would have utterly basked in her warmth, her softness. But, she whispered "that one is so sexy Caitlin," with a playful somewhat sultry note in her voice, and I turned my face towards her, and simply whispered "Lara."

She stood, and walked around the couch in the flowing, burgundy-coloured dress she'd worn to the wedding. She sat beside me, on my left side, turned her body towards me, and her left hand slid up and cupped my left hand, pulling it – and my phone – towards her, into her lap. "Yandy," she whispered. "Hot. I've bought some items from Yandy. Want to see?"

She didn't really wait for an answer. Holding my left hand in hers, the phone in my hand, she lifted her right hand and let her fingers slide over the screen. She was leaning into and against me now. Her breasts, warm and full, pressed against my left arm. Her right thigh pressed against my left. She navigated to one outfit, and then another, and then another, all pieces she had bought from this website. Finally, when a backless lace teddy was on the screen, she looked at me, her face so close to mine, and whispered "Do you want to see it? Really want to see it? I'll model it for you, Caitlin."

If I mumbled "yes" I don't remember. I was floating. It was so late, the room lit by just one dim lamp. It felt like being in a bubble just outside of normal time, normal reality. A bubble full of Lara's soft, sexual, pulsing warmth.

She slid her left thumb against my lips as she rose. "One second," she whispered.

She left the room, and after a few minutes alone, sitting uncertainly by myself on the couch, Evan appeared. He was barefooted, wearing a tight-fitting white undershirt, and his dress slacks. He smiled and said "Hey Caitlin," as he sat at the other end of the couch. "Lara has some notion in her head. I got sent in here. How are you? How'd it go with the kid today?"

We talked for a few minutes, waiting for Lara. My phone was now off, sitting on the arm rest of the couch beside me. Where Lara's aura had been one of a purring, warm, sexy, playfulness, Evan's aura just then was, well, tired. It was obvious that he really wanted to lay back in bed and fall asleep, but his wife had shooed him out of the bedroom while he'd been undressing. He was exhausted, but even so, a healthiness, or physicality, pulsed from him. He was attractive, without a doubt, but that night, as we sat there, and he made friendly small talk with me despite the fact that he could barely keep his eyes open, what seemed really attractive about him was – somehow – his tiredness. I had this desire to share it with him. To curl into his chest, place my cheek against his heart, and sink into sleep with him.

Evan and Lara. A warm comforting sleep, vs a playfully naughty slumber party. Pick your pleasure.

But, Lara picked for us.

She didn't say anything. She cat-walked silently into the space before the couch, and her appearance in that dimly lit room made whatever words Evan and I were saying die on our lips.

A black lacy teddy, with a plunging v-neck that went all the way down to her tummy. From the front, the teddy covered her almost completely – apart from the deep v-neck that allowed a delicious glimpse of her milk-heavy breasts. The back was completely open. A ribbon at her neck, which held the teddy up, and then nothing but soft skin down to the thong bottom and some lace at her lower back. Her ass cheeks, her thighs and legs, bare. Undo the ribbon at her neck, and you could peel the teddy down and off.

She strutted her left foot forward slightly, a hand on her hip. And then, she turned, presenting her ass to us.

Evan and I sat there, stunned and still.

"Do you want to feel the material, Caitlin?" Lara asked.

I wasn't entirely sure if I did or not, but I nodded, and Lara, still with her ass and back to me, motioned me towards her with a beckoning of her chin. I stood up, took a step forward, and was right behind her. "Put your hands on my hips," she whispered. "Then, smooth your hands around to the front, and slide your hands slowly up towards my breasts, and feel the material under your fingers Caitlin."

I felt drunk.

I felt like time had stopped.

A deep and intoxicating sexuality just radiated from Lara, and filled the silent, dimly lit room. I floated in her sexuality. Basked in it. And when my hands went to her hips, settled upon her, something washed through Lara as well. A wave slid from my fingers up through her body to her lips, which parted, and let out a soundless sigh.

My hands floated up towards her breasts, just as I felt the swell of them against my fingers, I eased my hands down towards her hips again. Up and down, four, five, six times, and then I let my hands rest at her hips and stay still, waiting for the next instruction.

It came from Evan.

"Caitlin, rest your left hand on Lara's left hip, and slide your right palm down, onto her ass, and massage her, Caitlin. Massage her, and feel the teddy under your touch."

I did.

Lara leaned forward slightly, pushing her ass back into my palm. She tucked her right forearm against her tummy, half-hugging herself. Her left hand drifted onto my left hand, still holding her hip. She pressed my hand securely against her body, holding my hand there, making sure it would never leave.

"Evan," she whispered, "let her do more."

If I had turned, and looked, I could have seen Evan behind me. But I didn't turn. I kept staring at Lara. At the fall of her long black hair. The smoothness of her skin. The curve of her neck and shoulders. Evan's instructions floated to me from some other world.

"Lower now. Let your hand slide low, in between her thighs. Cup her, in your palm. Caitlin, massage her. Steady, and warm. Massage her. Lara, spread your legs a little bit wider baby, let Caitlin have a little more room."

Lara stepped her right foot a touch further from her left, and with the additional space, I cupped my hand to her pussy, and massaged her steadily through the whisper-thin material of the teddy. Lara's left fingers half laced into my own, holding my hand in hers. She tilted her chin up, eyes closed, and then dropped her chin to her chest, swaying on her feet now.

I'd never felt another woman get wet before.

But under my touch, I felt Lara's teddy become damp. Just, at first, one spot where my fingertips were touching her. But then that spot grew larger, and I could feel a wetness soaking fully into my palm.

"Evan," she whimpered slightly, "I need to touch myself, baby."

Evan's voice. Soft. Still tired. I don't think he'd risen from the couch, or moved at all since Lara entered the room. "Babygirl, lick your fingers. Index, middle finger, ring finger." Lara still clutching my left hand to her hip with her left hand, and pressing herself back into my palm as I massaged her. "Suck them lightly Lara. Make them wet, then slide them down, and touch yourself."

Fuuuuuuucccccckkkkkkkk... I was so lost in this now, I think my eyes were beginning to fill with tears. Oh fuck... fuck... Pressing one foot, then the other, into the floor, like a child needing to pee... distracting myself... trying to stop or delay what was going to happen...

As I stood behind Lara, stood there in my jeans and tight top, as I held her hip in my left hand, and massaged my palm warm and deep against her pussy, she slid one finger, then another, into her mouth, and sucked them until they dripped with saliva. Then, she slid them down, inched them under the teddy from the right, and when one of those fingers found her clit, caressed and teased and stroked it, she shuddered in my hand, moaning, eyes closed, as my hand worked and worked and worked beneath her.

Evan stood and walked around in front of his wife. He pulled off his tight undershirt, and unbuttoned his slacks, which quickly slid down his trim hips and thighs. He stepped out of them, standing arm's length away from Lara, in just a pair of tight black briefs now.

"Please baby," Lara moaned.

"Lara," he whispered, "keep going. Your fingers, and Caitlin's hand. Does it feel good, babygirl?"

"Fuck, you have no idea," she gasped. "I might cum Daddy. Can I cum for you?"

Evan pushed his tight briefs down his legs, and stepping from them, stood straight, gripping his soft, but thickening cock, in his left hand. He began to stroke himself, looking into Lara's face. "No, not yet. Let me taste your fingers baby. Feed them to me, I want to see how wet you are Lara."

Lara lifted her right hand up to Evan's face, and touched her fingers to his lips, stroking them back and forth for a moment, skin to sensitive skin, and then as his lips parted, she slid her index finger into his mouth. He pursed his lips around it and sucked. His eyes focused on Lara's. She slid her middle finger, and then her ring finger into his mouth, and he sucked each one in turn, long slow drinks, tasting his wife on the fingers she slid into his mouth.

Evan's right hand went up and cupped Lara's left breast. His fingers rested against the material of the teddy, and he stroked his thumb against her nipple, stroking through the lace. "Reach down, Lara. Take me in your hand. Stroke me, Lara."

I couldn't see Evan's cock from where I stood. His lower body was hidden from me by Lara's body. I could see his face though. I could see the tremble that went through him when Lara took him in her hand. I think he lifted his hand to let her grip him, and then cupped his hand back onto hers, helping her with the first few strokes of his cock. Not feeling forgotten, but with no new directions, I continued to do what I was doing – holding Lara's hip in my left hand, and massaging my palm and fingers against her pussy, and against that increasingly wet teddy. I was lost in this, floating in it, but then I was brought back to the moment by Lara's voice, whispering my name to Evan.

"Can Caitlin stroke you, Daddy? I want her to feel you, feel how hard you are."

Evan's eyes remained locked on his wife's face for a long time, but finally flickered to my eyes, and we looked at each other over Lara's left shoulder. He didn't respond for a few moments. He looked at me, and I stared back into his eyes. My hand was massaging his wife's sex deeply, and steadily, and the touch, and this long glimpse of the two of them playing, was creating a slow boil inside me. Did I want to touch Evan as well? Yes. I don't know what it was exactly, how to describe it, but I wanted it. I wanted to hold him in my hand, and feel the heat of him, feel for myself what Lara was feeling.

"Lara," he whispered, looking at his wife again, "I'm going to fill you with cum tonight."

"Oh God, Daddy," she purred. "I know. I want you to. I need you to, Daddy. But let Caitlin stroke you baby. Let her help you get so hard for me."

More long moments, but then a nod from Evan, and I stepped to my left, around Lara. The three of us in a small circle now – me, with Lara on my right, and Evan on my left. I put my hand on Evan's lower back, and Lara reached across to take my right hand in her right hand, and place it on Evan's cock. She pressed her fingers into mine and made me grip Evan in a fist. She pushed my hand towards him, stroking my fist towards the base of his cock, and then she dragged my hand towards the tip again.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

I was dripping now. Soaking. Even if neither of them ended up touching me, I was going to cum at some point. It was almost agony.

Evan was bigger than the boys I'd been with in school and university, especially now, when he was harder than any cock I'd ever touched. I could feel the blood inside his cock, the increasing pressure of the orgasm growing within him. I stroked and stroked him. Lara's left hand had found my ass, gripping me through my jeans. Evan's right hand was on my lower back. And my hand, with Lara's upon mine, stroking him – feeling him grow, feeling the blood, and cum, and seed, swelling inside him.

Lara dragged my palm against Evan's tip, a wet touch of precum now in my hand. Oh sweet fuck.

"Do you want us to taste you, baby?" Lara whispered. "Take you in our mouths, and make you so wet Daddy?"

Evan reached out, and brushed the fingertips of his left hand to Lara's right cheek. "No baby," he whispered. "No, but kiss her Lara." He guided Lara to me, and stepped behind her, so that we were standing face to face. "Kiss her, Lara."

Lara's hands were at my neck instantly, pulling my face to hers. I barely felt a kiss before her tongue was in my mouth, stroking along mine. I moaned deeply into the kiss, and my hands went to her breasts, squeezing through the teddy. Evan touched his fingers to the ribbon at the back of Lara's neck, undid it, and then, eased the thin shoulder straps off her shoulders, and slowly, peeled the teddy down. Standing behind her, he peeled the teddy from Lara's body. The material disappeared from under my hands, allowing my palms and fingers to cup the flesh of her breasts. Then, he sank down to his knees, and with the ribbon and top of the teddy dangling down now... he inched the material from her thighs... down her legs... until she was standing naked between us.

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