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fnord post 74: Who Wants to Fuck the Babysitter 01 (M/f, uateen, hj, craigslist)

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Offline fnord

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Standard Disclaimer #1 (Water Sleeps mix):  This story involves contact of a sexual nature between an adult male and an under-age female. This is purely fictional, and has no direct connection with reality, by which I mean that even though it is written from the first-person point-of-view, I have never done anything even remotely resembling the actions laid out herein. Furthermore, I do not recommend, condone or desire sexual contact between adults and people below the age of consent.
In short, it's okay to fantasize about situations such as this. Actually trying to carry out such activities is not okay, for values of not-okay in the "break out the baseball bat" range.

* * *

Unlike all-too-many weekends, I was home. Not only that, I was home for the entire weekend. I got in about five on Friday, and didn't have to leave until Monday morning. The only down-side was that my wife had left for the weekend - some kind of drama in her family down in Wichita. Oh, well, it was nice to have the place to myself for a change, even if it did mean I wasn't going to get any what weekend.

I pulled all my stuff out of the truck, put the dirty dishes in the sink and the clothes back in the laundry room, then ran through the shower before fixing myself something to eat. While I was eating, I pulled up craigslist and scrolled through the various entries. Nobody had anything for sale I wanted to buy, so I flipped over to casual encounters and started scrolling through those. Like usual, 99+% of them were blatant spam, and I flagged them as I went. Then I hit one that I thought might be real. Worth checking out, anyway.

Who wants to fuck the babysitter: I only look like I'm an innocent 16-year-old. Who wants to play games with the babysitter?

There was a picture attached of a short, slender brunette, wearing what I could only call a catholic schoolgirl uniform. Looked good, so I decided to give it a try.

re: Who wants to fuck the babysitter: playing with the babysitter looks like a lot of fun. I'll bet you know lots of games, and I know a few myself. I attached a picture and sent it on its way, then moved on to other things.

About eight, I got the "you've got email" chime and flipped over to my email program. re: Who wants to fuck the babysitter: Oh, I know lots and lots of games, and you look like you'd be fun to play with. Want to meet up tonight, and meat me up?

re: Who wants to fuck the babysitter: sure, I'd love to. I'm thinking that if you were wearing the same clothes you're wearing in your picture online, you could be the babysitter who's been watching my kids all evening, and now I'm taking you home afterwards. Only thing is, we make a little detour, and park somewhere out of the way and crawl into the back seat. Or, maybe, the kids are in bed, and you're just so damn cute, sitting there in the living room, that I just can't help myself. What's one of your games?

re: Who wants to fuck the babysitter: that sounds like fun! How about this: I'm babysitting your kids, and you get home late. The kids are in bed and sound asleep, and you catch me playing with my pussy on the couch in the living room. That turns you on so much, you can't control yourself and you make me suck your dick, then you eat me out, then we fuck. Maybe I turn you on so much that you just have to put that big, hard cock of yours in my tight little ass? How does that sound?

re: Who wants to fuck the babysitter: that sounds like a lot of fun to me! I'd love to do that. Can I pick you up? Or would you rather drive?

re: Who wants to fuck the babysitter: come pick me up. Do you know where the corner of Tellfly and Lowell is? Give me a call when you're a couple of blocks away and I'll meet you there. What are you driving?

re: Who wants to fuck the babysitter: deal. On the way. I'll be driving a dark red Tahoe.

I didn't really know where the corner she'd named was, but a quick flick through google maps and I was on the way. When it told me I was a half-mile away, I called her.

"Hello?" a cautious female voice.

"Hi, uh, I'm the guy who was talking with the babysitter." Damn, we hadn't swapped names, and this was feeling a bit awkward all of a sudden.

"Oh, yeah!" the same voice, now much more energetic. "You almost here?"

"Yeah, about three - four blocks, I think."

"Okay, I'll be right down. If I'm not there on the corner, swing around and try again."

"Okay, sounds good." At that, she hung up. Well, I think that'll work, I told myself.

Shortly after that, I hit a stop sign on the corner of Tellfly and Lowell, and there wasn't anyone to be seen in any direction. Following her instruction, I turned right on Tellfly, went down a block on Madison, a block back on Sunrise, back up on Potter to Lowell, and then back to the original stop sign at the corner. As I was turning back onto Lowell, I saw someone walk out of the alley between Potter and Tellfly, and, looking back at me as they walked to the corner.

I couldn't make out too much detail in the dark, at this distance and in the dim light, but I could definitely tell that whoever it was, they were wearing a white top, a short, dark skirt and, I thought, white socks pulled up to about knee-high. Then I got closer and saw that it looked like the girl in the picture who I'd been texting with. Once I hit the stop sign, she stuck her head in the open passenger-side window and asked, "You the guy who's looking for a babysitter?" with a half-naughty, half-nervous giggle.

"Yep, that's me. Want the job?" If she was going to take this angle, I'd play along.

"Sure, I'll do it, mister. Can I get in?"

"Sure, hop in." As soon as she was in, I took off again. It kind of reminded me of when I used to pick up hookers, back in the day. The neighborhood we were in heightened the feeling - it was just the kind of run-down area I'd always had my best luck finding hookers, and the street I'd picked her up on, Lowell, was once block south of the local main drag, just like most places I'd been. The cop passing us, going the other way, just as we were half-way back to the main drag just made the feeling even stronger.

It was so strong, in fact, that I expected the next words out of her mouth to be some variation on the classic, "You looking for a date?"

Her next words, though were, "Gee, I wonder where he's going," as she turned around to watch the cop flip on his lights and siren and tear off south.

"Hell, no telling," I answered. I hit the stop light at the main drag, and took the opportunity to get a good look at the girl while I waited for it to change. I liked what I saw. In the clothes she was wearing, she really did look like a 16-year-old catholic schoolgirl / babysitter. Short, slender, small tits, long brunette hair pulled back into a ponytail, wearing a plain white blouse, dark blue and green plaid skirt that came down to about four inches above her knees, white knee socks and black shoes with low heels. (I know there's a real name for that style of shoes, but damned if I know what it is.)

She was looking back at me, and I wondered if she was liking what she saw as much as I liked what I saw.

Then the light changed, and I took off, making the left turn onto Dreeson and back toward my place. At the next stop light, I turned back to her, held out my hand, and said, "By the way, I'm Tim. Glad to meet you."

She giggled at that, and took my hand. "Hey, Tim, glad to meet you, too. I'm Adele." She paused and giggled again. "And I'll be you'll be glad to meat me, too, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, I think I do," I said, grinning at her. "And you're right, I will be glad to meat you."

"So, where do you live?" Adele asked.

"About two miles that way," I said, gesturing out the windshield, "and about a mile north. It's actually about a half-mile outside of town." I glanced over at her, and saw a worried look cross her face. "If you'd rather not get that far away, the mall's open until midnight, and the theater there's open til one or two. No one would notice another car parked in the back there."

Adele thought that over, and nodded. "Yeah, that sounds better, I think," she said slowly. "Why don't we go park at the mall and..." she paused, then went on. "We can park there, and decide what we want to do then."

"Okay, the mall it is," I agreed, though I was a little worried myself. The more I looked at Adele, the more I thought she might actually be 16. She sure as hell didn't look to much older than that, anyway. The phrase Don't ask, don't tell crossed my mind, almost making me laugh.

"What's so funny?" Adele asked, and, suddenly deciding to be honest with her, I told her.

"I was just wondering how old you really are," I told her, "and the thought 'Don't ask, don't tell' popped up in my mind. I know it's not quite the same thing, but still..."

She laughed at that. "No, I'm not gay, but if you don't ask me how old I am, I won't tell you. Deal?"

"Deal. I won't ask, and you won't tell."

We were quiet the rest of the way to the mall, but it didn't feel like a nervous silence, at least not too much. The mall was only a half-mile from where I'd picked her up, and I thought she might feel more confident being closer to home, or, at least, where I thought her home might be.

I pulled into a darker corner of the mall, behind the movie theater, parked, then looked over at Adele. "So, what do you want to do?"

She giggled, sounding a bit nervous again, and said, "I'll be I can guess what you want to do."

"Probably, yes. I bet you can, too. But the question is, what do you want to do?"

"I... I don't really know," Adele said in a small, rather frightened voice. "I've never actually done this before."

Instantly, I said, "If you want, I'll take you back home. If you're scared, or don't want to do this, then we won't."

"I don't know," she repeated. "I..." she paused for several seconds, then began again. "I'm not a virgin," she said, sounding almost defiant about it. "I've had sex... I've been fucked a lot, and I like it, I really like it. I like babysitting, and I like pretending the guy I'm babysitting for is going to fuck me, and I wanted to try that for real, but not with a real dad, you know?"

"Yeah," I said, not totally understanding, but I thought I caught enough of it. I was also sure now that Adele was only about 16, which was making me nervous.

"So," she went on, "I've had this fantasy forever, and I thought if I put an ad on craigslist, I could meet a guy who could help me with that, and I picked you." It occurred to me that when Adele got nervous, she started chattering and stringing together longer and longer sentences, but all I did was nod agreement and add, "Uh-huh," in the most encouraging tone of voice I could muster.

A longer pause, as she looked over at me out of the corner of her eyes, her hands clasped tight in her lap. "But now that I'm... Now that I'm here, and you're here, I just don't know!" That last ended as almost a wail, and she started crying. Without thinking about it, I took her into my arms and gently hugged her, and she hugged me back, hard. Damn it, she was making me feel parental toward her, which was making me feel guilty about the hard-on I was also feeling toward her.

I spent the next couple of minutes murmuring soothing noises, until she stopped crying and pulled back. Taking the hint, I let go of her and she sat back in her seat. "Thanks, Tim," she said, still sniffling a bit. I was afraid..." I could picture all too well what she might have been afraid of. I very carefully did not think of the word "rape".

"Nothing to be afraid of," I reassured her. "Say the word, and I'll run you straight back home, no problem."

She looked at me as if she couldn't understand or believe what I was saying. "But I don't want to leave you all hung up," she said.

"Huh? Oh, you mean all turned on and horny?" I said. "Don't worry about it. Wouldn't be the first time I went home and jacked off, won't be the last time, either."

"You... you're okay with that?" she asked, definitely sounding like she was having trouble tracking that one.

"Yep, I'm perfectly fine with it," I told her. "I'll drop you off, go home, get out the hand lotion and take care of it. No muss, no fuss. Well, okay, a little muss, but it washes clean easy enough. Still no fuss."

Adele giggled at that. Then, hesitantly, she said, "So, would you be okay with taking me home tonight, and maybe we can try this again tomorrow night? I think I need to think about this some more."

"Sure," I said, starting the Tahoe and pulling out of our parking space. "No problem at all."

As we wove our way through the mall parking lot, on the way to the street, she said, "You know, I've never met anyone who's so easy about not getting laid right away."

"Just guessing," I said, "I'll bet most of the guys you've had sex with have been about your age? Impatient, gotta get off right now!?"

"Well, yeah," she admitted. "A couple of teachers..." she cut off. "Hey, what happened to 'Don't ask, don't tell'?"

"I'm not asking," I said, "I'm just guessing. Even a guy in his early twenties is still thinking with his dick, more often than not. I'm just enough older I can use the big head, every so often."

About then, we hit the street and I turned back toward where I'd picked her up.

Glancing over at Adele every few seconds, I saw her frowning and biting her lower lip in thought. Then, as I was about to signal the turn off the main drag, she turned to me and said, "Turn that way," pointing north, instead of south.

All I said was, "Okay," wondering what she had in mind now. A couple blocks north, she said, "Okay, now turn left up here." A few more directions, and she had me park in back of a large, very popular strip joint, definitely in the seedier part of town.

Once we were parked and the engine was off, I turned to look at her. I could see her blush in the light coming in through the windshield. "I..." she paused, stammering. "Look, you're being really nice to me, after I've been a real cock-tease to you..." she trailed off again, sniffling a little.

"Look, you're not being a cock-tease," I told her. "A cock-tease is someone who deliberately turns a guy on as much as possible, then cuts him off at the last second, just because they like to fuck with people. Trust me, I've met a couple. You're not a cock-tease. You're just a horny person who isn't quite sure just how far she wants to go. There's a difference. You are not a cock-tease."

"Th... thanks," she sniffled out again. "But I feel like I'm being a cock-tease tonight."

I hugged her again. "Adele," I said, "a cock-tease is a bitch who likes to make men suffer. They smile and laugh while they do it. You aren't smiling or laughing right now. So, you're not a cock-tease."

She stopped sniffling and gave a shaky, tear-filled laugh. "I guess you're right," she said. "If I was a cock-tease, I'd be enjoying this a whole lot more." She pulled some tissue out of her pocket, wiped her eyes, blew her nose, then tossed them out the window before turning to look up at me again.

"Okay, I'm not a cock-tease, and I'll prove it." I looked back at her, wondering what she was thinking now. She reached over and tried to unzip my pants.

"You don't have to do anything," I told her as she worked the zipper down.

"I know," she said, concentrating on it. "But I'm going to, anyway. You're being nice to me, so I'm going to be nice to you.

Partly because I didn't want to argue with her and cause her more stress, but more because she was reaching inside my pants and fishing my cock out into the open, I agreed. "Okay, Adele." Then, with the sudden humor that so often takes me, I said, "Anyway, there's no chance in hell I'm going to say no when a pretty girls wants to play with my dick!"

She giggled at that, and said, "No one's ever said no to me when I wanted to." Then she had my cock out in the open, and was giving it her full attention.

By this time, I was dead certain that Adele was only 16, if that, maybe a year or so either way, at most. Really, too young, I thought, to really know how to handle a cock, but she was giving me the best handjob I'd had since I'd been stationed in Korea and was getting handjobs almost daily at the on-base massage parlor.

"Oh, fuck, Adele, that feels fucking great!" I moaned, her small, warm soft hands stroking up and down my shaft, and tickling the sweet spot right under the head.

She looked up at me with a wicked grin on her face. "This might get messy," she warned me. "Want me to keep going?"

"Oh, fuck, yes!"

At that, her grin widened, and she stopped stroking my cock and, instead, held it in one hand and started rubbing her thumb in circles across the sweet spot. She swiped the thumb up a bit to gather some of the pre-cum starting to drool out of the tip, brought it down and started to rub harder and faster.

"Oh, fuck Adele..." I gasped out as the first jet of cum shot from the tip and splattered across my shirt. "Oh... fuck!" as she kept rubbing, and kept the cum spurting, shot after shot, until it was just dribbling down across her knuckles. Once the last tiny drop oozed out, Adele let go, squeezed the base of my cock between her thumb and first two fingers, and ran her grip up the shaft, squeezing out the last bit.

Then she looked up at my face with that same wide, wicked grin, and asked, "Like that?" before lifting her hand to her lips and slowly and delicately licking her fingers clean.

"Oh, fuck," I sighed. "Oh, fucking hell, that was good."

Adele giggled at that, and once she had her fingers clean, she tried to wipe some of it off my shirt, but it was already soaking in.

"Okay," she said, "if you wanna take me home for the night, I'll get back with you tomorrow. I think I still wanna do this, but... just not tonight, you know?"

"Okay," I agreed. "Tomorrow works."

She bent forward, kissed the tip of my cock, sucked the head between her lips for a few seconds, then started trying to tuck it back into my pants.

Once I was rearranged, we took off again, and a few minutes later I was dropping her off at the same corner I'd picked her up at. She leaned over and gave me a kiss right on the lips, her small, hot tongue briefly darting between my lips before getting out. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" she said as she opened the door.

"I'll be waiting," I told her. "Any time you like." At that, she waved, turned around and walked away, and I took off down the street again, heading for home. I knew I was going to have to try to wash my shirt before the cum-stain was permanent, that I was definitely looking forward to hearing from Adele tomorrow, if she did decide she wanted to play babysitter and get fucked, and that I would have to jack off at least two or three times tonight, just to get to sleep.

I was definitely feeling better about being home by myself for the weekend!

* * *

end part 01. part two coming mumble mumble later.

fatal error: witty comment not found


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WoW  :emot_thdrool:, great start
Hope read more of this... :emot_penis:

Offline Uncle Ed

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I just hate it when the author dies before they finish the story...

The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones. - William Shakespeare

Offline MintJulie

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I just hate it when the author dies before they finish the story...

  Did Fnord die?  He was just on 10 days ago.

          You might not know this, but I have a thing for Tom Brady.  #TB12