The baby-sitter

Jennifer breathed a sigh of relief as she walked down the stairs. Both toddlers asleep, although the older one had needed two stories this time. She re-entered the lounge and poured herself a drink. Well, the Marshalls had told her she could help herself, hadn't they? And they always offered her a drink while they told her about their night out and waited for the taxi to take her home.

She hadn't known what to expect when her mother had asked if she was interested in earning some money by babysitting for one of her colleagues. She had baby-sat for neighbours before, usually with their older kids, eight and nine year olds, but this was the first time with actual babies. And the fact that the parents were strangers to her seemed a bit forbidding. The Marshalls also lived on the far side of town, so she would be truly on her own -- with neighbours, it had been reassuring to know that help in the form of mum was only five minutes away. So, the first time she met them, she was really nervous.

They had turned out to be a rather laidback couple in their mid/late-thirties with a good sense of humour and a wealth of stories about their own time at University, some of which would certainly have shocked her mother. They had talked with her, sounding her out to see if she knew what she was doing, and introduced her to their two kids, Matt aged four and Helen, who was almost two. She liked them on meeting and told them about her upcoming exams and her hopes to move onto University later in the year. It was really pleasing that they treated her as an adult, rather than condescended to her like a little kid, the way some of mum's church friends did. She had returned the next night to do the actual baby-sitting, and the kids took to her, doing as she told them, and behaving well. She had baby-sat for them half a dozen times now over the last three months, with a break over her exam period.

This was the first time she had baby-sat for them since the exams, and the money would be really welcome. The post-exam parties and nights out had rapidly run through the little money she had saved. Mrs Marshall had picked her up from mum's, driving her over to their house to have dinner with the kids whiles he and Mr Marshall got ready to head out. Mrs Marshall had greeted her with her usual hug, and plied her with questions about the exams, the parties, and where she thought she might be going to University. On arrival, Mr Marshall also gave her a hug, saying he was sure she had done well in the exams, which surprised her a bit. Then the kids took over, clamouring for her attention, and she was kept busy while the Marshalls left for their date night.

She checked the baby monitor was on, then sat down, took a pull on her drink and breathed in. It was 9 pm and the Marshalls wouldn't be back until after midnight. She took out her phone, contemplating it for a moment, then texted "All clear. Still want to?". She looked at the text, biting her lip and making that final decision, then hit send.

The response was immediate "On my way".

She wondered for a second if she was doing the right thing. She had only met Dave two weeks ago and had only seen him four times, including the pub gig where she had met him. Was it too soon to go all the way with him? A couple of her friends would have had him first night, but she was always the shy, reticent one, virtually the last in her year to let go of her virginity. Her previous two boyfriends, Mike and Steve, had not exactly been sparkling successes, and she knew she had gone with them as much through peer pressure, the reluctance to arrive at University in a few months' time, still a virgin.

She had slept with Mike three times, all of them rushed encounters at parties. Her first time had been incredibly quick, Mike having cum after less than a dozen strokes, leaving her excited and extremely frustrated, and the next two occasions were not really much better. She had tried again, an entirely forgettable drunken one-nighter with Mike's friend Steve, who had even less interest in satisfying her than Mike had. The only orgasms Jennifer had had from any of these encounters were after she had gone home, fingering herself in her own bed.

The fact that she had had no great desire to continue the relationships spoke for itself. And truth be told, they hadn't seemed interested in prolonging the affairs either, now that they had boasted to their friends that they had fucked her. Being honest with herself, she was aware that she had to some extent used them as much as he had used her, and for the same reasons: to validate themselves with their peers, and, at least in her case, her much anticipated new friends at University. At least their boasting had stopped some of the less-kind girls in her class calling her frigid, although she would die if any word of what she had been doing reached her rather prim mother.

But Dave seemed different. Not another teenager, he was twenty years old, two years older than her, just returned home after his second year at University. He was much more sophisticated, at least to her eyes, than her former schoolmates. Maybe he would be the one to show her what it was all about, that it really was about mutual pleasure, rather than some furtive fumbling and bumping on someone's carpet at a party.

The fact that he was a genuine University student, that he had been to a different local school so didn't know her or her friends was another plus in her eyes. Their snogging and touching at the cinema, and on the short-cut through the park after a visit to the pub had only served to show his superiority over her former classmates. The downside was the lack of anywhere to be alone so far. But he lived just two streets away from the Marshalls, and, when her mother had relayed her colleague's request that Jennifer babysit again, the plan had formed in her mind. Once the kids were asleep, they should have 2 -3 hours on their own.

Of course, she did feel a slight twinge of unease about whether it was right to invite someone she barely knew into someone else's house. She realised she had drained her gin and tonic and poured herself another to calm her nerves while she waited. The Marshall's had said to help herself, and they were a generous couple. She felt she needed the drink. This was the first time she had acted so boldly, the first time she had specifically invited someone to meet for the sole purpose of having sex. With last minute cold feet, she wondered if she should text again, saying it was all off, but she knew she wanted this. Another sip of her drink, and she burrowed in her handbag, fishing out the condoms she had bought that afternoon and opened the packet. She laid two of them on the little table beside her glass and felt her face flush at being so brazen.

The doorbell rang and she caught her breath. This was it. She knocked back the rest of her gin for Dutch courage and walked to the door, trying to be cool and casual, as if this was no big deal, while her heart was thumping hard in her chest. She opened the door and ushered him in, a quick glance out to make sure no-one was watching. She grabbed his hand and led him into the lounge, then turned towards him, putting her arms round him and whispered 'Hi.'

She felt his lips on hers, his urgent tongue already pushing at her and she opened her lips, their tongues touching. She felt his hand slide over her t-shirt onto her breast. Shit, she thought, I meant to take the bra off before he arrived. But his other hand was already sliding under the t-shirt, gliding round to her back, fumbling with the strap. She felt a tightness as he worked the clasp, then relief as it fell away. Both hands were under it now, warm against her skin, cupping. squeezing her breasts.

She broke the kiss, both startled and aroused by his direct approach. She welcomed the kiss, but had expected to have a drink with him, chat and flirt, snuggle up on the couch and then move on from there. But his sense of urgency had infected her, and she too was impatient now. She pulled him over to the sofa and they both fell onto the warm black leather. He raised her t-shirt right up above her breasts and she wriggled for a moment, letting the now redundant bra fall to the floor at her feet. Her hand went to the back of his head, and she pushed him down, rewarded by the touch of his lips on her erect nipple. She arched her back, pressing her breast hard against his mouth and moaned softly in pleasure and anticipation. She felt his hand catch hers, pulling it to his groin, and the bulge in his jeans.

She squeezed the bulge, marvelling at how hard he was already, and then started to fumble with his belt. Impatient, he undone his button and zip, the sudden feel of warm flesh against her fingers showing he had gone commando. She gripped him and made a soft stroking motion with her hand, drawing a groan from him, the first sound he had made since crossing the threshold. He felt hard and damp with swat, and as she glanced down she saw the purple head pushing out of the foreskin, a thin film of precum reflecting the low light from the table lamp. He pulled away from her breast and stood, pushing his jeans down to his ankles and whispered 'Lick it baby... I love that....'

Disappointed he hadn't paid more attention to her breasts, she shifted in her seat, looking up at his face as she gripped the base of his cock and, leaning forward, ran her tongue round the crown. She drew back, licking her lips, trying to swallow to bring some saliva into her dry mouth then glanced up at his eyes once more, before dropping her head and letting her lips slide over the head, down onto his shaft. She held him there for a few seconds, pressing her tongue up against the underside of his cock, before beginning a slow up and down movement, pulling back till her lips felt the ridge of the head, then down again, striving to reach that little bit further each time, to take more of him into her mouth. In the corner of her eye she saw the lipstick mark she had left on her glass, and wondered if there was enough left to leave a mark on him to show just how far down his shaft she had been able to go.

She felt him against the back of her throat and pushed just a little bit harder, triggering her gag reflex, Fighting it, she held him there until the spasm ceased and then drew in her cheeks, sucking on him now she knew she could not take him any deeper. Then, all of a sudden, he grunted, and her mouth and throat filled with warm liquid and she realised he had cum without warning her. Coughing and spluttering, she drew her head back, feeling another gush of fluid hit the inside of her cheek. She tried to close her mouth and swallow, but there was so much of it she couldn't cope with all of it, and some escaped from the side of her mouth, running down her chin and dripping onto her rolled up tshirt and her exposed breasts.

She sat back, surprised by how quickly he had cum. She hadn't meant to make him cum, just tease a little before laying back and opening herself for him. Now she worried that he might not be able to do that as she felt him soften in her hand.

'Wow,' she said, 'I wasn't expecting that. Did I do it OK?'

He stared at her, still breathless and could only nod 'Fantastic..'

She looked up at him hoping he would take the initiative but as he still looked dazed she had to ask 'Your turn...will you lick me...down there...please?'

He looked a bit surprised, and maybe a little apprehensive as she rearranged herself on the coach, pulling up the short skirt, exposing the tiny panties she wore, the gusset clearly darker than the surrounding material from her leaking juices. She shuffled forward, her hips overhanging the edge, her legs spread wide. She held her breath. Neither her two previous boyfriends had been prepared to do this, but he was older, more experienced, he must know girls were supposed to want this, to like it.

His reluctance obvious, he knelt on his heels in front of her and kissed the top of her panties. Her thumbs were already pushing them down and he assisted, easing them down her legs and over her feet, her pussy now fully exposed to him. He lent forward again and kissed the little apron of pubic hair, the compromise that she had agreed with her mother at her last waxing. Then he slowly and nervously ran his tongue down from there over her labia.

She shivered at the touch. Now she would find out why her friends raved about this, how good they all said it was. She felt his tongue press a little deeper as it moved upwards again, parting her lips, touching her inside. She felt the tongue moving and closed her eyes in anticipation of it flicking against her clitoris, but the moving tongue stopped short and started down again. She shifted slightly, trying to bring it in contact with her hole, but it missed that too, before moving upwards again. No matter how she moved, she couldn't quite get him in contact with those bits that ached for his touch. In frustration, she held his head, grinding herself against his face, finally getting the touch, the friction she wanted, when she heard the sound of the front door closing and looked up to see the lounge door swing open, Mrs Marshall's shapely legs filling her vision above the arm of the couch.

Dave sprang back from her as if given an electric shock, scrambling to pull his jeans up while she herself lay frozen, shocked into immobility. She saw him push past Mrs Marshall, his cock still swinging free as he ran down the hall, past her surprised husband, opened the door and ran out into the street. She brought her hands up to her face and covered her eyes in horror and shame.

She heard movement as the Marshalls stepped into the room and she lowered her hands, trying simultaneously to roll the t-shirt back down over her breasts, and to pull her skirt over her naked pubic area. Mrs Marshall stood directly in front of her, Mr Marshall a pace or two behind, a big grin on his face, his eyes fixed on her exposed breast. She looked up fearfully and sobbed 'I'm sorry....'.

Mrs Marshall took a deep breath 'OK, let's calm down. I'm guessing that was the boyfriend?' Her eyes dropped to the table, Jennifer's empty glass sitting next to the two unopened condoms, and she tried to suppress a smile. 'Well, I suppose us arriving back unexpectedly must have been a bit of a shock.'

She turned to her husband 'John, I think we all need a drink, Jennifer especially. If you can tear your eyes aware from her tits, perhaps you could get us some?'

Jennifer started at the words, suddenly aware her left breast was still bare and hastily pulled her t-shirt down over it. She tried not to meet his eyes as he lifted her empty glass, the bright blue condom wrappers in full view beside it. Her eyes began to fill with tears as the shame of being caught in such an embarrassing position hit her. What must the Marshalls think? They must think she was some sort of slut. Oh God, they were bound to tell her mother. How was she going to get through that?

And the story would leak out till her classmates and their families and eventually everyone would know. They would look and stare as she walked down the street and laugh at the dirty slag who got caught in the act. And why were the Marshalls so quiet, why weren't they yelling at her? At least that might prepare her for her mother's anger, scorn, the long pitying look of disappointment.

She felt a gentle touch on her arm and looked up to see Mr Marshall proffering a refilled glass, which she took automatically and raised to her lips. She gasped and spluttered as the gulp of alcohol, much stronger than she normally poured herself hit her throat. She looked down again, still unable to make eye-contact and found her eyes level with Mr Marshall's crotch. She quickly looked away, down at the floor, shocked. Had she really seen a bulge there? Or maybe she really was a slut, imagining things, her dirty mind interpreting everything in sexual terms?

'That's it, take a good drink, it will calm you. We must have given you a terrible fright. I'm sorry, I should have texted to say we were coming back early.' Mrs Marshall's voice was soft, almost comforting and Jennifer felt the couch cushion move slightly as Mrs Marshall sat down next to her.

'The band at the pub had to call off so we just had a couple of drinks and left early because there was no atmosphere and none of our friends were there. I'm sorry if we spoiled your night too.'

Jennifer glanced up, meeting Mrs Marshall's eyes for the first time since the lounge door had opened. She felt confused, this was not the reaction she was expecting. She looked away again, raising the glass to her lips and taking another, more cautious sip. Her body was still almost rigid and she tensed again as Mrs Marshall's arm came round her shoulders. She had been half-expecting some sort of blow, a slap or something, but she realized that the intention was comfort, not punishment, and her body seemed to slump in on itself as she slowly relaxed.

'John? I think Jennifer needs a little time to get over her fright, and maybe a little girl-time. Do you want to check on the kids, and you did say you had a couple of things you wanted to look at on the computer? On you go, and while you do that, Jennifer and I will have a little chat.' She caught his eye. 'Girl on girl....'

Jennifer waited until she heard Mr Marshall steps receding as he walked up the stars, and then started to speak 'Mrs Marshall, I really am so sorry. I know I....'

'Now Jennifer. Stop there. Yes, I would have preferred it if you had let me know you planned to bring a boyfriend round. But I understand. I'm not that old that I can't remember what it's like at your age, having to sneak around, trying to find somewhere private for a couple of hours. I remember it only too well, and I'm sure John had similar experiences too. And don't call me Mrs Marshall. My name is Susan' She laughed 'You showed tonight you are all grown up, so let's treat each other like two adults. And is it Jennifer, or do you use something shorter?'

'They call me Jennie at school. Just my mum and her friends and my teachers call me Jennifer. But when I go to University, I was going to just call myself Jenn.' She giggled 'With two Ns.'

Susan clinked their glasses together 'Well, here's to you Jenn. University is a new start for everyone, and a new name fits well with that. You'll have a great time there...and you will have a place of your own and won't have to worry about people walking in at the wrong moment.' Jenn blushed, and for the first time since David had arrived, she smiled.

Susan reached into her handbag and brought out a packet of wet-wipes. 'Let's get you cleaned up. Your friend made a bit of a mess before he ran off. Have you known him long? Personally, if a guy ran off like that, leaving me to face all the awkward questions, he would be out on his ear.'

Jenn shook her head 'No...not long, just a week or so. Tonight was going to be our.....' she broke off in embarrassment.

Susan gasped. 'Your first time? Oh shit. Your first time with him or THE first time?'

Trying not to meet Susan's eye she replied 'With him...', blushing as she realized that she was basically admitting there had been other boys before. She winced, even more things she didn't want her mother to know about.

'Thank God for that. Bad enough interrupting you, but if it had been your real first time...' Susan shook her head. 'I was fairly sure a good-looking girl like you would have had quite a few boyfriends before now. You had me worried for a minute there.'

Jenn looked in astonishment at Susan, amazed by her casual laid back attitude, the way she had taken it for granted that Jenn was sexually active. She knew her Mum, a very active church-goer, would not have the same easy acceptance.

'Does...does this mean you won't tell my Mum? I'd die if she knew. It's not as if I've had a lot of boyfriends, but well....'