The Babysitter Mix-Up

Tom cursed internally and tried to keep smiling. The partner prattled on over the video call, and Tom's doorbell chimed again from the other side of the house.

"I am so sorry to interrupt you, sir," he cut in, as the man finally paused to take a breath. It was the first time in twenty minutes. "Our nanny's at the door and I have no one to let her in. Would you excuse me for a moment?"

The partner blinked back at him in disbelief. He was ready to launch into another monologue, Tom was certain of it.

The man seemed bewildered by the request. Nearly a full minute passed as the doorbell chimed away. Finally, he huffed like a child and said, "If you must. But we still have a lot to cover."

"I'm so sorry, I'll be right back, sir," Tom told him.

He sprinted out of the office, ran down the hall, slid across the tiles of the entrance, undid the lock, undid the fastener, and finally swung the door inward and waved her inside.

"Baby's just gone to sleep, mother's just left, Linda's out of town, I'm in a call, food's in the fridge!" he shouted as he tore back toward office and slammed the door shut once more.

He had only caught a glimpse of Charlie's blonde curls, but he had smelled a hint of the perfume she wore when the door opened. It was like vanilla and sweet cherries, he thought.

His wife, Linda, had hired Charlie out of desperation, two months earlier. She was a friend of the daughter of a friend of a friend, or something like that. They had needed a sitter to stay the night while both of them were on particularly demanding cases. Few others were willing to be called without warning and be expected to remain for an indefinite amount of time.

Tom didn't catch another glimpse of the girl for three hours, when he snuck out to grab a snack and two cold beers from the fridge. She was cradling his little boy, feeding him from a bottle and rocking as he drank. He watched her round ass swaying before him. The muscles of her lithe, young body stretched sensually as she moved. His breath left him for a moment.

Charlie turned and flashed her wide eyes toward him. Her soft lips opened in surprise, and then she gave him a grin. "He's asleep," she whispered.

Tom raised his drinks in salute and quickly hustled back out of the kitchen. He didn't trust himself to speak. Fidelity was a hell of a lot easier when young girls didn't smile at you, he found.

Linda had been buried in a business merger for the better part of three years, and he'd been busy running himself ragged for just as long. They had both been set on having a child by now, but work had long since killed off any chance of that. In a determined effort to keep their life schedule on track, surrogacy had saved the day.

It was either that or hope for an immaculate conception, she had said.

Tom finished his drinks long after they'd gone warm. As the last of the partners logged off for the night, he stepped back out for a fresh drink to keep him going.

The house was silent and dark. The clock read 1 a.m. He still had time to finish his work, catch up for tomorrow, and get a couple of hours of sleep before he started up again.

Paternal instinct took over, once he was free from the office. He passed by the fridge and went up the winding staircase. The baby's room was at the far end of the hall. He peeked his head through and found his boy fast asleep and drooling. He watched for a few minutes, made sure he was warm, and then slipped back out the way he had come.

A flash of light down the hall caught his eye. The guest room that the girl sometimes used was cracked open. Charlie was clearly awake and still watching television. He could see the dance of colors and images through the darkness.

Tom eased the door open with his fingertips. "Hey, sorry I was in a rush earlier," he whispered.

He was wrong. She had not been watching television. She had been watching something on her phone. And, from her haste to hide it, he could only assume it wasn't appropriate.

But he had been wrong about something else, as well. Because as Charlie was watching her phone, she had also been stroking a small cock between her legs.

In a whirl of curly blonde hair, Charlie spun away from him. She pulled her tight jean shorts back into place. It took a moment longer than it should have to fasten them, as she folded her erection carefully back into place.

Tom froze. He couldn't tell which of them was more to blame. Anytime he tried to think about what to say, his mind went back to the sight of her face blushing with pleasure. Or the way her soft lips had hung open as she panted for breath.

"I'm so sorry," Tom said, when Charlie didn't turn back around. "I didn't mean to barge in. I had just wanted to thank you."

"Yup. Uh huh," she said quickly. He couldn't tell if she sounded mad or just embarrassed.

"I'll close the door now," Tom said, and he stepped backward back into the hall.

He could still picture the glistening head of her cock as it squeezed between her fingers. And the way her hips had pumped against her hand in desperate need.

"Please keep it opened," she squeaked.

Tom stopped, unsure of what he had heard.

"In case the baby wakes up?" she added.

"Right." He let go of the door handle and took off down the hall. He made it to the stairway and out of sight before he hesitated again.

The door in the hall squeaked open again. "Anyone there?" he heard her whisper. "Hello?"

Tom held his breath, not even daring to blink. After a long while, he heard the door ease partially back closed.

He held against the wall, still not bold enough to move.

But, as he waited, he remembered her taut body swaying in the kitchen again. The way her hips had made circles through the air. He shook the thought away.

Then he saw her cock between her fist again, pumping away in a fury. He remembered the time she had picked a bottle from the floor, and the way her tight ass had brushed against him as she bent for it. He remembered every time she had flashed her beautiful teeth in his direction.

Tom turned his head silently back toward her door.

He didn't dare to move even enough to stir the air. He shifted forward at an agonizing crawl. His heartbeat was louder than the creak of his steps, though that wasn't saying much. He could feel the deafening pound of it in his throat.

But, soon enough, he found that he didn't need to creep so silently. The girl was making quite a racket herself.

Tom could hear the sound of her fist slapping against sweat-slicked thighs. He could hear the panting of her breath, and the moans that slipped through her delicate lips. A high-pitched whine began to drag from her throat.

And then, little by little, the pounding rhythm began to slow. Soon, he could no longer hear her breathing anymore.

What if she stepped outside, he wondered. There might still be time to duck into the bathroom door. But what if she headed in there next? He could pretend to be in it, and just leaving.

With his excuse in hand, he stepped closer toward the door. He reached the frame of it and he could hear her softly stroking away again. He eased his eye across the open crack.

One of her small feet was propped over the nightstand. Her legs were spread wide, and the bones of her hip protruded against her perfect skin. She was wearing a thong beneath her jeans, but she'd pulled it aside to pleasure herself.

The cock between her hands was dark red, and barely reached the edge of her palm. He could see the length of it caked white with dried cum. The head of it still leaked freely. It stuck to her fingers, leaving bright, shining strands between them.

Charlie rubbed a hand over the thin fabric of her underwear, stroking at the tight sack beneath. She trailed her fingers up to her nipple and squeezed tight. Her small back arched, stretching her tight clothes tighter.

Her breathing turned rapid and shallow again. She shuttered as more pre-cum spilled over her fingers, running down the knuckles like a fountain.

And then, little by little, she slowed again. Her breathing began to grow quiet.

Tom held his breath. Despite a lifetime of sanity and self-control, he began to pull down his fly. He pulled a heavy cock free from the slash of his boxers. He felt the wet head of it across his fingers. He slid his palm down to the base and gripped it tight.

The first stroke made his knees buckle. He had to grip the door to keep himself steady. He looked downward in a panic. He had nearly driven his legs into the wall. It would have been a hell of a lot harder for him to escape with his dick in his hand.

Sweat dripped down past his ear. He pushed out a quiet breath of relief and looked back through the doorway. Charlie's eyes met his.

His hands trembled and he stopped mid-stroke. His was cock desperate for more, for the sweet drag of friction against his hand, but he was frozen entirely still. He couldn't look way. He couldn't blink.

Charlie eased herself back against her pillow. She raised her hips a bit, repositioning them. She bit her lip, and then she began to stroke again.

He saw the pucker of her asshole between the tight cheeks of her ass. Pre-cum spilled from his fingers and onto the floor.

This time, his knees rammed the wall as he collapsed forward. His hand scrambled for a tighter hold against the doorway. A blush and a smile grew across Charlie's sweet face.

Tom was nearly at the edge. He could feel his breath growing tighter. He could feel the pressure building through his body, swelling beyond his control. He trembled with pleasure, and pumped away faster.

He breathed in deep, ready to finally spray his load. And then she stopped him.

He saw her small finger curling in the air. A long, baby blue fingernail was calling him forward.

Tom pushed open the door and stepped inside.

He took Charlie into his mouth without waiting for an invitation. He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her to the edge of the bed. The crust of dried cum melted against his tongue as he stroked it clean. More spilled from her as his hands kneaded the girl's small ass. She tasted as sweet as she smelled.

With great restraint, he ran his mouth to her tip of her and pulled it free. Her eyes fluttered open, looking surprised and confused.

Tom lifted her legs easily, and stripped her naked below the waist. He tossed her clothes aside, and pressed her knees to her chest. She folded easily, as limber as he had dreamed.

He stroked the crack of her ass with a wide, wet tongue. The girl moaned like never before. She clamped her small hands over her mouth and screamed through the pleasure.

Tom lapped at her messily, relishing the animal need that had grown inside. The tip of his tongue found her tight hole and he dug into it, desperate to penetrate her. He pressed her legs back tighter, and forced his tongue in as deep as he could reach.

The small muscles of her tensed, and it seemed to roll across her body like a wave. Every part of her trembled. Her little sack pulsated as her cock darkened to purple.

Her hands were on her mouth again as the first sound of wet spray rang out. Tom shut his eyes and twisted his tongue as he heard the rest begin to rain down.

And, above it all, he heard the sound of a high-pitched scream driving out from behind her tightly pressed hands.

When she finally pushed his head away, he saw the mess her orgasm had made. For such a small girl, she had emptied quite the load. It dripped from the fabric of her shirt and pooled onto her hip. She was flushed red, from her knees to her scalp. Her tongue lolled out and she watched him beneath heavy-lidded eyes.

She had to push him backward a few more times to keep him from driving his tongue inside again.

He stood, wiping his mouth against the sleeve of his dress shirt. Her eyes locked onto his, and then they dropped lower. His cock still jutted out from his open fly. She bit at her lip hungrily, then looked up at him again.

His hands reached to turn her over, and she was already twisting her body to get into position. She thrust her ass hard against his legs, then moved slowly upward, stroking his sack, dragging against the length of his cock.

A sound spilled out of him like a dying animal. He gripped her small shoulders with his hands and kicked her feet apart. He could hear her panting louder now.

And then the baby began to cry.

The screech of it poured through the open doorway.

It was only a short call, though. It cut off, leaving them in weighted silence.

Charlie turned slowly, looking at Tom with eyes wide. Both held their breath.

The baby cried again. It was over. She pulled off her stained shirt and lifted a small robe free from her bag. He saw her tight belly and pink bra disappear behind the heavy fabric of it.

She dragged her fingers across Tom's belly as she slipped from the room.

He blinked in the darkness. Once again, he found himself frozen and unsure of what to do next.

All he knew for certain was that they had made the right call when they hired Charlie.