Throwing Stones

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A lonely housewife has an affair with her babysitter.
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Pippa stands wearily on the porch, her sequined cocktail dress sparkling in the retreating headlights. It is a cold, damp night, soft rain drifting in the air like a scotch mist. She watches as the taxi makes a three-point turn, the beams of light sweeping around the quiet cul-de-sac before disappearing back in to town. She finds the key in her bag and fumbles with the lock. Stumbling through the front door, she slips off her heels in the warm carpeted hallway. Composing herself, she enters the living room.

"Hi," Pippa announces, trying to sound upbeat and not slur her words.

The babysitter sits up and looks over the top of the couch.

"You're back early," Zoe says, surprised. "Everything okay?"

"Yes." In truth, it isn't, but that is not the etiquette. What would happen if she started to cry?

The young woman looks towards the door, expecting someone else. Pippa is alone.

"I'm a bit tired," Pippa adds hurriedly. "Josh stayed behind to talk shop. I called a taxi. All quiet here?"

"Emily wanted some warm milk about seven, but I checked just now and she's fast asleep."

"That's great." Pippa places a steadying hand on the bookshelf.

Zoe smiles. "Do you want me to make you a coffee?"

"Yes, please. "I've possibly had a little too much to drink." Far too much, Pippa recalls. She gestures at the TV. "Anything good on?"

"I've not really been watching," Zoe replies, pulling on a baggy blue sweater over a faded Foo Fighters tee. "I've got an assignment due in the morning."

They had used Zoe a few times recently, following a recommendation from Josh's secretary. The young woman had struck up a nice rapport with their sometimes precocious six-year-old daughter. Pippa always enjoys her company, even if it is only for a few minutes at the end of a long evening. The twenty year old is studying to be a fashion designer at the local college. She reminds Pippa of her younger self, the dedicated and confident young woman who, a decade earlier, studied in the evenings to qualify as a legal secretary.

"Stop it," Pippa says, giggling. Zoe makes her laugh too.

"No, really, my flatmate told him that if he flashed it again that she'd report him to trading standards."

Zoe tells the story as she makes Pippa a coffee. They are relaxed, having a good time. It is the perfect antidote for Pippa to what has been a difficult evening. The babysitter places the hot mug in Pippa's hand, making sure it is secure. The young woman is very attentive, Pippa likes it. It is a stark contrast to Josh's work event, where she went largely unnoticed. With her long brown hair tied back, Zoe's moss green eyes twinkle brightly under the kitchen spotlights. The girl is about average height, a few inches shorter than Pippa, who is taller than most women at 5' 8". They lean side by side against the island, so close as to almost be touching. The young woman appears quite stocky, but Pippa knows she is hiding a slim figure under all those baggy clothes. She notices Zoe's perfume, the swell of the girl's ample bosom pressing against her side. Pippa will never truly understand how it happened, only later recalling that it did. One moment she is stretching around Zoe, looking to put down her mug on the counter, and in the next, Zoe is on tiptoe and kissing her. It feels so good that Pippa temporarily forgets herself. She kisses the babysitter back and they spontaneously entwine in a passionate embrace.

"Stop," cries Pippa, breathless and giddy.

"Why would you want to do that?" A fresh-faced and smiling Zoe is looking up at her, arms tightly around Pippa's slender waist.

"What if Emily hears us? What if she comes down stair looking for us?" Words are flying out of her mouth. "What if Josh, my husband, comes home and finds us like this? Only God knows what he would do."

None of the reasons sound at all convincing. They both know it. Pippa feels helpless as the young woman caresses her bottom, pinching the fabric between her fingers, hitching up Pippa's cocktail dress inch by inch. They start kissing again, mouths open, tongues entwined. The hand is on her hip, under the hem, forcing its way between her reluctant thighs. Pippa is subconsciously conceding ground, opening her stance as the hand glides over her smooth nylon tights. It cups around the soft curve of her valley and gently squeezes the cushion of flesh. None of the reasons said I don't want this.

"Emily is fast asleep, I checked. And as for your husband, I have a hunch that this won't take long." The young woman's slender fingers are inside her tights. Only the damp panties offers any resistance. "You can tell him about it later if you like. Tell him how you were drunk and angry with him. Tell him how I took advantage of you. It's all true."

Pippa is hot and wet, and more willing than she ever imagined. Zoe teases the swollen lips with her fingertips, before ruthlessly targeting the clitoris. She circles around the centre of sensation, constantly adapting the direction, the pressure, and the speed, in response to subtle signals. Pippa's core begins to melt. Pleasure radiates from her loins like a stone landing in water, expanding ripples moving swiftly across the surface of a pond. She clings to Zoe at the apex of desire, burying her face in the dark, sweet smelling hair. Pippa's desperate, hungry mouth seeks hers, their kiss smothering her intoxicated cries as the fervor consumes her. Trapped against the edge of the island, every spasm mixes rapture and pain. Somewhere there is a loud noise, something smashing on the floor. She doesn't care. She zones out, forgetting everything in the euphoria of her arriving orgasm.

Pippa returns to her senses, the rosy contentment gradually turning to anxiety and guilt. She smooths down her crumpled dress. "What was that?"

"It was your mug, don't worry about it." Zoe cradles a disheveled Pippa gently in her arms.

"What about Emily?" Their scent still linger in the air, shaming her. "Oh, fuck, what was I thinking? This shouldn't have happened."

There is broken china and coffee dregs all over the pink tiles.

"We'll clean it up, it's okay. It won't have woken Emily, but I can go and check on her, if you want?" Zoe tries to kiss her again, but Pippa pushes her away. "You need to calm down."

"I think you should go," Pippa says firmly, turning her head away. "Go!"

"Okay. If that's what you want?"

"Yes."

Strangely, there are no more protests. With a wry smile, the young woman steps over the broken mug, washes her hands at the sink, and returns to the living room. Pippa glowers at her from the doorway as the babysitter quietly gathers her belongings.

"Call me when your ready to talk," Zoe calls from the hallway in a hopeful voice.

Pippa says nothing as the front door shuts. Anger, shame, and relief that the girl has gone, hit her all at once. She wanders back into the kitchen, on autopilot, and picks up the pieces of broken china from the floor and puts them in the bin. After wiping the tiles with a floor rag, she pops it into the washing machine. Her clothes smell of Zoe, their sweat and her own pungent musk. She takes off her tights and panties and throws them in too. Upstairs, Pippa checks on Emily, the girl is fast asleep, and then takes a long shower to try to wash away her sin. It doesn't work. Still feeling dirty, she hides the cocktail dress at the bottom of the wardrobe. It will need to go to the dry cleaners tomorrow, straight after dropping Emily at school. Pippa lies awake in the dark, but pretends to be asleep when her husband returns after midnight. Josh stinks of booze, cigarettes, and stale aftershave as he snuggles next to her. As she finally falls asleep, she recalls the aroma of pear drops, her favourite treat when she was little.

Zoe smelled like pear drops.

* * *

"About last night," Pippa says sheepishly at breakfast. "I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't have left, Pip," Josh glances up from his paperwork and smiles thinly. He looks right through her. Josh leans against the kitchen island, close to the spot where, last night, the babysitter fingered her. "Don't worry, I covered for you. I said you weren't well, which is the truth, isn't it?"

Emily sits on a stool in her school uniform, chasing the last rice puffs floating in a puddle of chocolate milk. After sleeping in, Pippa is running late, another thing for her to be overly defensive about.

"I don't think that's fair. I've tried to fit in." Tell him the truth. There are already too many secrets. "I was lonely, a bit bored. I didn't know anyone else, you were busy, so I left. You didn't notice?"

"It was a work function, Pip." At last, she thinks, an emotional response, even if he sounds pissed off, before his infuriating calmness returns. "Look, I know it's been difficult lately, so much for me to do with setting up the new office. But with you not working... frankly, we need the money."

"I know," she concedes, while sending Emily upstairs to brush her teeth. Pippa puts the empty breakfast bowl and spoon in the dishwasher. "Who's Richard's wife? Long legs, red hair. You spent a lot of time with her last night."

"Her name is Cassie. She's a legal secretary, like you were, and is kindly helping out with arranging the paperwork for the insurance. You weren't jealous were you? Is that what this is really all about?"

Like you were, ricochets around her head. "May be, a little. It would have been nice if you'd introduced me to everyone as well. I wouldn't have been left standing in the corner."

"Next to the wine?" He scoffs. "I'm sure you would have just found the conversation a bit dull." He finally seems to notice her forlorn face. "You know I love you, don't you? We've, you've, given up a lot taking this chance on us. I know it must be hard for you sometimes, but Emily and I really do appreciate it." On cue, their adorable daughter calls down from the bathroom. She can't seem to reach the toilet roll. "When everything is up and running, we'll take a break, the three of us, reconnect, recharge. We'll sit down together and work it out. Perhaps, you'll want to go back to work?" Pippa nods. "By the way, I found the money on the bookcase this morning. Did you forget to give it to Zoe when you got home?"

"Yes," she replies, half-listening to Emily calling more urgently for the toilet paper. "I forgot, I was a bit tipsy. I'll call her, but I better sort out our daughter first, before she starts weeing on the floor."

In the end, Pippa chickens out and sends Zoe a text. They agree to meet at a coffee shop in town, not far from the college. While she had hoped to avoid any contact, it is a suitable public place with hopefully no chance of any more drama. She will hand over the money and leave. She drops Emily at school and stands in the playground with the other mums until the bell rings. It is a short drive across town to the car park close to the railway station and a ten-minute walk to the cafe. It is a warm, sunny morning, much brighter than the damp days earlier in the week and people are out and about, making the most of it. Pippa arrives early, orders a small cappuccino, and finds a quiet table at the back. She takes out the brown envelope and places it on the table, picking at the edges of the brown envelope with a fingernail. She doesn't notice Zoe until the young woman is standing at the counter. The young woman is transformed, smartly dressed in a white blouse and navy blue pleated skirt. Much prettier in make-up, only her ponytail is unchanged. Zoe asks for a soya latte and a blueberry muffin and heads to the table. Pippa notices the young woman's slim swaying hips as she walks, her bouncing bosom straining against the shirt buttons, and above all, and despite everything that has happened, her warm, friendly smile. Pippa has butterflies. Just hand over the money and leave, she reminds herself.

"Am I late?" Zoe sits Pippa opposite and looks down at the empty coffee cup.

"I can't stay." Pippa folds her long legs under her chair and pushes the brown envelope across the table. "I just wanted to make sure you had your money. I think it's best that —"

"I'm sorry I scared you," The young woman's green eyes are wide open and afraid. "I shouldn't have... it's just that you were so lonely and sad, so beautiful—"

"I'm married. I have a husband and a daughter. I'm not a...—"

"Neither am I," Zoe answers, calmly. Later, Pippa will learn this is nuanced. "I just happen to like you."

"I must go," Pippa says, rising from the table.

Zoe puts her hand on hers. It feels nice. "Please stay, just a little longer, until I'm finished."

Pippa sits back down. She tells herself that she doesn't want a scene. There is nothing to stop her from leaving, so why doesn't she? The barista arrives with Zoe's order and they sit for a while in an uncomfortable silence. Zoe shift the topic of conversation on to safer ground, Emily, eager to avoid any further awkwardness.

"I will miss Emily. You should know that your daughter is adorable."

"She is one in a million." Pippa looks down, conspicuously avoiding the gaze of her attractive companion.

"Did you know that she kissed a boy at school yesterday? She announced it proudly in the bath. His name is Billy Grant and he is nearly seven. I asked her if she liked it and she said 'Yes, but it was hard.' 'Hard?' I said. 'It took three of us to catch him!'"

Pippa laughs and the adds, "Oh no. I wonder if I should talk to Emily's teacher?"

"I wouldn't, it sounds all quite normal."

"You're probably right, who hasn't played kiss chase?" Pippa blushes. Even adults play games. She wonders about the blouse, the skirt, the make-up, is Zoe still chasing her? Has Pippa stopped running?

In spite of her reservations, Pippa relaxes, warming to the conversation about her adorable little girl. They share further memories about her darling daughter, the gentle affectionate humour found in the most mundane moments. It is obvious that Zoe likes Emily. In turn, her little girl adores her babysitter and Pippa trusts her. Pippa likes Zoe. She starts to wonder whether there could, after all, be a way to give their blossoming friendship a chance to flourish.

"I've finished." Zoe places her cup down on the tray.

Pippa is startled, where did the time go? The prospect of final goodbyes fills her with dread. "Okay."

Zoe comes to her rescue. "Can I walk you to your car?"

Too soon they are walking together to the door and heading down the alleyway towards the car park. Pippa feels the walls closing in around her, squeezing the air from her chest. She must say something now or lose this beautiful person forever.

"I was wrong, before," Pippa exclaims, stopping at a junction, only yards from the car park. Her blue eyes are brimming with tears. "Emily adores having you around. I wouldn't want to change that."

Zoe replies with a wry smile. "Funny,... I was thinking how right you are to end it, before we do something that we'd both regret. You are the most beautiful and amazing person I've ever met. I wish I could feel differently, but I can't."

Pippa is all at sea, at the mercy of an emotional tempest, desperately seeking a life raft. Zoe takes her hand and pulls her close. They are face-to-face, inches apart, hoping that one of them will find the courage to go one way or the other. Pippa unexpectedly pecks Zoe on the lips, relieving the pressure like a safety valve. The young woman prevents her escape, drawing her quickly back again, brushing their lips together, gently prying open Pippa's mouth with the tip of her tongue. With Zoe's fingers ploughing furrows in her curly blonde hair, they kiss slowly, deeply, moving back against the wall, surrendering to the moment. There is no turning back.

"We can't, not here," Pippa gasps, coming up for air. No one has seen them yet, but this is a busy route.

"My flatmate will be home, so I guess we can't go there?" Pippa vigorously shakes her head at the suggestion. Zoe clings on to her prize as if the mare is about to bolt from the stable. "There is a hotel near here, nothing special, a travel lodge. I know someone who works there. I could see if they have a room?" Pippa looks horrified. "Don't worry, I'll be discrete. It actually happens a lot more than you'd think. I'll text you with a room number." Zoe holds up the envelope with a cheeky grin. "I can always bribe them."

* * *

Room 324 is at the far end of a corridor by a large window. Pippa watches a train arrive at the station. The door is ajar, held open by a single shoe. Pippa moves inside, hearing it close behind her with a reassuring click. The hotel room is shrouded in darkness. Zoe stands before the bed, silhouetted in front of the drawn curtains, pale light diffusing around her, lending her figure an ethereal, haunting beauty.

"I was afraid you wouldn't come," the young woman says, stepping forward.

"I am terrified," Pippa replies, her eyes slowly adjusting to the conditions. "I am not sure who I am. I have so many questions and no answers to any of them. I shouldn't be here, yet here I am."

Zoe approaches her from the direction of the bed. She is wearing only her white panties. Pippa avidly takes it all in. The young and fulsome oval-shaped torso, the large jaunty breasts, pressed close together, and the wide swinging hips, she so admired at the cafe. She takes Pippa's hand, leading her further away from the door and into the centre of the room. Zoe slips inside her defences, softly enveloping her. Their lips meet, brushing briefly together. All reason is telling Pippa to run, but her feet are rooted to the floor as the young woman unbuttons her blouse. One by one, like undressing a mannequin, each garment is removed, neatly folded, and placed in a stack on the dresser. Facing her youthful companion, Pippa feels suddenly self-conscious. She is taller and slimmer than Zoe, lacking the sexier curves. Her breasts are smaller and flatter, less-defined, a difference accentuated by her height. She scurries over to the bed, diving under the cool cotton sheets. Zoe circles around the mattress, taking the bobble from her hair. It cascades around her shoulders as she joins Pippa under the covers. The girl turns on her side.

"I need to be at the school gates by three o'clock," Pippa announces, somewhat matter-of-factly. "It upsets Emily if I'm late."

Zoe smiles. "I think I can work with that."

Pippa knows that the young woman is right, even before they kiss, even before an unseen hand floats across her fluttering stomach and makes a beeline for the slender gap between her thighs. Only now does Pippa begin to understand why she has been so afraid of Zoe and why she tried so hard to resist her. They have crossed a line and there is no going back. Fingertips lightly caress her delicate folds, drawing the wetness from within, swirling around her clitoris until nothing else matters. In this sublime moment, there are no words to describe how she feels, so Pippa kisses her lover, opening her mouth to receive her, their tongues mingling like frenzied serpents. She wants to come. Lips move hungrily over her breasts, sucking gently on her small button-shaped nipples. They stiffen instantly, doubling in size. She is close, so nearly there. Fingers slide effortlessly inside her pussy, applying a deep, exquisite pressure. In and out, in and out, they glide. This is it. Pippa throws her blonde head back on the pillow. She is panting for breath.

"Are you going to come for me?" Zoe licks her neck with long rasping lashes like a velvet whip.

"Yes. Oh God, it's here." Her heart is racing at breakneck speed, blood loudly rushing through her ears.

Her hips shudder, breaking the tension, smashing a bottle on the side of a ship, pleasure escaping through a cobweb of cracks, flowing like a sugary syrup through every muscle in her body. This is ecstasy, the pinnacle of desire. Pippa is floating in a golden haze, falling slowly like a feather until she reaches the bed.

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