Breeding with the Reluctant Babysitter: The Trilogy Read online

  Despite this, or maybe even because of it, I was still apprehensive about going babysitting dressed like that. I’d been telling Sara about how I was struggling to save for a car, and also about how, earlier in the year, on the night my boyfriend and I had planned to have sex for the first time, instead he had shown up wearing a ‘purity ring’ and with another one for me. He wanted to wait for marriage, he said. I didn’t know what else to do. I loved him, so I put the ring on, but I was so horny all the time, it felt so unnatural.

  Sara had paused for a moment and then told me about how she could set me up with a really great babysitting job that came with a couple extra opportunities to make money. Both of those extra opportunities were kind of shocking. One was outright theft, Sara knew where he kept a box of money hidden. The other almost seemed like a low level of prostitution. Apparently the man of the house, Mr Warren, was somewhat neglected by his wife and liked to have ‘eye candy’ to look at, so if one were to dress on the sexier side of things one could expect a larger tip than would normally be given to a mere babysitter.

  I’m not sure which part of it I had the bigger problem with. On one hand, the risk of getting caught for theft seemed almost too huge to contemplate. I was doing really well at school and was near the top of my class, Universities were practically falling over themselves trying to open doors for me. That would all end with a criminal record. On the other hand, since my boyfriend, Brad, had turned up with those damn rings, he’d wanted me to wear really conservative clothing. If I wore a skirt it was supposed to be as close to the ankle as possible, and so on.

  Like I said, if anybody but Sara had made the suggestion I wouldn’t have even considered it. However, she assured me that she had done it lots of times back when she used to babysit for the Warrens and there was no danger at all. Mr. Warren was apparently really sweet and just appreciated a little bit of attention from a beautiful girl. He was also a really successful lawyer, absolutely loaded with money and never missed the odd hundred or two from his cash box.

  So, safe in the knowledge that Brad would never find out and there was almost no chance of getting caught, I agreed and Sara made a call for me to find out when the Warrens next needed a babysitter. It turned out that they had a requirement quite soon.

  *****

  Everything happened just like Sara said it would, when Mr. Warren opened the door he looked me up and down, drinking in the view like a cold glass of water after crossing a desert. I gave him my most coy smile and when I ‘accidentally’ dropped my purse in the living room I made sure I bent at the waist to retrieve it. The skirt was so short he would have got the briefest flash of my white cotton panties before I stood up and the show was over. I saw the look in his eyes when I was upright again and thought about what a great payday I was about to get for such little effort.

  The kids were really no problem at all, they ate their dinner and went to bed on time, contrary to almost every other family I had ever worked for. I wondered how often the Warrens needed a babysitter, it was the easiest job I’d ever had. Speaking of Warrens, I wondered where Mrs Warren was, I hadn’t seen her and had neglected to ask. That might have been a bit awkward, so I was glad she wasn’t around that night.

  Even the cash was right where Sara said it would be. I did think it odd that in all the years since Sara had babysat for them they hadn’t changed the hiding place, but I supposed if they had no idea their secret had been compromised, they would have no need to do so. I grabbed a little over a hundred dollars and thought to myself with a smile about how much closer my goal of my very own car was. I might even get a really nice one.

  Everything went downhill pretty fast when Mr Warren came home though. I was ready and waiting for him when he arrived, standing in the living room with my best ‘gee-whiz’ smile on and my hands clasped at hip-level with my arms pushing my big breasts together, giving a hint of cleavage over the top button on my shirt. He looked at me for a moment with more of that same appreciation he had shown earlier but said he had to check something upstairs first.

  I grew nervous as he was gone for minute after minute, what if he was checking his money or something? No… surely not. Sara had said there was no chance of that. Just when I couldn’t take it anymore and I thought I would panic and run, Mr. Warren appeared in the living room again. He was carrying a tablet PC of some kind and was looking at it with a grim expression.

  “I can’t believe you did this, Danielle.”

  “Did what?” I managed to squeak out.

  “Don’t play games with me. Look at this.”

  Mr. Warren tapped the screen a few times and then handed me the computer. I looked at the video file playing and felt like I was going to throw up. There, in high definition, was me. Stealing money from Mr. Warren’s cash box.

  “I can’t believe you did this,” he repeated, “Sara said you were a real good girl, doing well in school, your whole life ahead of you, but now you’ve thrown it all away for a couple hundred bucks.”

  “What are you going to do?” I looked downwards, an angle that would have given me a view of my feet a year previous was now obscured by my breasts.

  “I’m going to have to take you to the police, it’s up to them what happens from there. However, as a lawyer I can tell you that the criminal record is going to shut a lot of those doors that were previously open. Your life is going to be very different from how you imagined it.”

  “Please don’t do it, Mr. Warren!”

  I was still looking downwards and a big fat tear dripped off the end of my nose and went straight down my top, landing on my breast before running sideways to be soaked up by my bra. I was in shock, my whole life was being turned upside down in a matter of seconds. My mind was whirling around a million revolutions per minute trying to think of a way, any way, out of this. Panic was setting in, and then Mr. Warren’s voice softened.

  “You know, maybe we can work something out.”

  I looked up at him, tears still flowing out of the corners of my eyes and tried to smile.

  “Yes! Please! I’ll do anything, please just don’t go to the police. I’ll give your money back, OK?”

  “I’ve got a better idea, Danielle. You can keep the money, you’ve got something else I’d rather have.”

  “But what…”

  I was so confused, he was going to let me keep the money? What else could he possibly want? That’s when I saw him looking at my chest, hidden behind the schoolgirl shirt and my newest bra, bought to accommodate my recently grown tits. That’s when I knew that he probably wanted me to show him the breasts that only my eyes had seen. I couldn’t do it!

  “I want to see your body a bit more, Danielle. Will you take your shirt off?”

  “Just the shirt?” I asked, still utterly reluctant but also hopeful.

  “I’ll decide once you’ve done it. If the rest of your body is as amazing as what you’ve shown me so far, then yes, that will be it. The video will be destroyed and you can go back to your comfortable little life.”

  “Well… OK… I guess.”

  I handed him back his tablet PC and he tossed it nonchalantly on to a chair then folded his arms and watched me. I took a deep breath, my breasts rose and fell in front of me, and with slightly shaky hands I began to unbutton my shirt. I’d undone all the buttons down to the level of the underwire of my bra when he held up his hand.

  “Wait there. Pull your shirt apart and push your breasts out, I want you to pose for me.”

  I hesitated, but I guessed this was within the limits of what I had agreed to, so nervously did as he said. I gripped each side of my shirt and pulled it apart until my firm teen chest encased in my bra was exposed to his gaze. I took another deep breath and pushed my tits out towards him like a girl I had once seen on the cover of a magazine in a store.

  “Yeah, just like that. God damn you’re sexy, Danielle, you look like you’re built to be fucked. Has anybody ever told you that?”

  “Uh… no,” I whispered, shocked at
the language he was using.

  “Well, they should have. Push those tits together.”

  Despite myself, I was kind of flattered by the compliment. I wished Brad had said that to me all those months ago instead of giving me a ring that said he didn’t want to fuck me yet. With slightly more confidence I placed my hands on the outer sides of my chest and pushed inwards creating a deep abyss of teen flesh, cleavage any woman would have been proud of.

  “Like this?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Just imagine my thick cock sliding between those big tits of yours. Peeking out the top with each thrust until you’d squeezed the cum right out of me and it landed all over your neck and hair. Would you like that, Danielle?”

  “No! I… I’m a virgin.”

  One of Mr. Warren’s eyebrows raised and he smiled.

  “What does that have to do with anything? You’d still be a virgin.”

  “But… I’m saving myself for marriage.”

  “That would be a waste, pretty little fuck toy like you.”

  I blushed and averted my eyes. I’d never been spoken to like that before. Boys had always been so nice to me, especially in the last year since my chest arrived on the scene. Some things he said had struck a nerve though, I did want to be a fuck toy, Brad’s fuck toy. Why did he have to give me that stupid fucking ring? Unbidden, the thought of Mr. Warren’s ‘thick cock’ sprung into my mind and I pictured it sliding between the fleshy mounds of my chest just like he said. Oh God, in my imagination it looked so good. I couldn’t help but wonder what it looked like in real life and even though I would never find out the image was definitely turning me on.

  Mr. Warren didn’t say anything for a while, letting the image of his cock between my tits settle in perhaps but when he did speak it was to instruct me to continue to take my shirt off. I did as he asked, releasing my breasts and letting them return to their natural position high and proud in my bra. The last few fastenings came undone under my fingers and my shirt hung loose with my belly button peeking out like a nervous actor between the stage curtains on opening night.

  “Take it off,” he breathed.

  With one last internal apology directed at Brad, I shrugged off my shirt and exposed my upper body to the older man in front of me. I was thankful I didn’t have to take my bra off, even this much was more than any other man had ever seen of me. I was sure there were teachers and students at school that would have sacrificed their first-born for just a few sweet seconds of the image before Mr. Warren.

  I spread my hands in a questioning gesture.

  “Is that enough?” I asked.

  “I don’t think so, Danielle, your body is amazing but it’s not enough to make up for what you did. I think you should do a few more poses for me, unless you want to have come this far and still just end up going to jail?”

  “No! No! I’ll do some poses for you… er… what poses do you want?”

  “Let’s start with that slutty pose you already gave me earlier in the evening, bend at the waist and show me those pretty little white panties of yours again and don’t stand up until I tell you.”

  I cursed myself for teasing him earlier. If I did it before, how could I refuse now? I gulped and slowly bent forward until the tips of my fingers were brushing the ground. The short skirt gave the illusion that my legs went forever but bending over this far was enough to confirm to anybody who could see that they did indeed have an end where the pristine white material cut across the toned flesh of my lower ass like a finish line.

  Mr. Warren walked around and knelt behind me, looking at my tits framed between my knees, his face uncomfortably close to my exposed underwear.

  “No touching…” I reminded him.

  “You’re not the one in charge here, Danielle. Just for that, we’re going to have to go a bit further. Get your ass on that couch.”

  “What are you going to do?” I asked as I stood up.

  “You’ll see. Stop asking questions or this deal is off.”

  The tone in his voice offered no room for negotiation so I shut my mouth and silently cursed myself for making the situation worse as I walked over and sat on the couch.

  “Lay back and put your head over on that cushion. Get comfortable.”

  I looked to where he pointed and then leaned sideways, bringing my feet up and settling in. Looking up at him I saw that his cock was rigid inside his pants, producing a scarily large bulge at the front that was impossible not to notice from my height and angle lying on the couch. Holy shit, how can it be that big? The thought raced through my mind and was gone as quick as it came but left behind a strange sensation between my legs. With a barely-held-back gasp I realised I was getting wet.

  “Drape your left leg over the back of the couch,” Mr. Warren instructed.

  I wanted to protest but clamped my mouth shut, he hadn’t made any moves to touch me yet and I had no evidence to suggest that would change. What I did have evidence for was that protesting made things worse. I raised my leg, which felt like it weighed a ton, and hooked it over the back of the couch.

  “Now put your right leg on the floor.”

  Again I struggled with myself but managed to force my right leg to the side, where I let it drop until my foot hit the floor with a thud. I hoped it wasn’t obvious that my pussy was beginning to leak my sweet honey out through my virginal slit. Glancing down I could see that, with my legs spread as they were, the skirt was nowhere near long enough to cover my most secret place, all that stood between my untouched pussy and Mr. Warren’s hungry eyes was the rapidly dampening material of my underwear.

  My heart was beating so hard that it was making my breasts jiggle almost imperceptibly with each pulse. I began to breathe faster out of nervousness, and saw Mr. Warren’s eyes fixated on my chest, which was rising and falling in time with each inhale and exhale.

  “That’s a good little slut, stay just like that.”

  Mr. Warren exited the room and came back with a chair from his kitchen, which he placed on the floor in front of the couch right by my head. Instead of sitting on the chair he went and knelt down at the side of the couch, between my legs from my perspective. I didn’t have long to wonder about what he was doing down there.

  “Masturbate for me, Danielle, stick your hand down the front of your panties, I want to see you squirming around on this couch and moaning like a whore when you cum.”

  “I can’t do that, Mr. Warren! Not in front of you, please just let me go, OK?”

  “No, Danielle, you’ve pissed me off too much. I’m going to jack off while you masturbate, I deserve a little gratification for the chance I’m giving you to save your future, or would you prefer we do go to the cops?”

  “No… I just… I’ve never… with anybody… um…”

  I wasn’t making any sense, but the whole situation wasn’t making any sense. The way he was speaking to me, taking control, was driving me absolutely wild. If the truth be told, I was almost fighting to keep my hands out of my panties at that point.

  “Deny it all you want, Danielle, but I can see your panties are soaked. I’ve never seen a girl so fucking wet before, your underwear is practically see-through, I can already see your pussy. Just stroke it for me, it’ll feel good and you’ll never have to worry about going to prison. Do it.”

  “Well…”

  I licked my lips with resignation and slid my hand down my navel, over my skirt and lifted the scrap of material upwards so I had access to my panties. My fingers slid under the elastic, over my neatly trimmed little landing strip and over my clit. I squeaked at the contact, I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t believe how quickly things had gone from nobody ever seeing me naked to me masturbating in front of the middle aged man crouching between my legs. It was so unbelievably dirty and forbidden that it made me even more sopping wet.

  I ran my finger along each side of my slit, down one and up the other, entirely coating it in my own juices, before plunging it inside of myself as deep as I could until I felt the in
tact barrier of my hymen. I began a steady rhythm, pushing that finger into my tight hole and dragging my juices back out over my clit.

  I tried to close my eyes and think about Brad, but it only made me angry. He would have been lucky to have a pussy as wet and tight as mine wrapped around his cock, I was proud of how firmly my muscles were able to grip at my finger, sopping wet or not. It could have been all for him but he had to go and ruin the night with that ring. Instead, I opened my eyes again, looked at Mr. Warren and felt a spark of pleasure.

  He was staring intently at what I was doing between my legs, his hands hidden from view behind the armrest. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but the motions of his upper arms told me he was jacking off while watching me. I concentrated my efforts on my clit, flicking my finger from side to side as quickly as I could, feeling my orgasm fast approaching. To have the undivided attention of this sexy, experienced, man was stroking my ego as much as my finger was stroking my clit and when he stood up so I could see the huge erection he was sporting it was too much to hold back and my climax shuddered through my body.

  I tried my best to keep my eyes fixed on his glorious cock but, with hips bucking and muscles pulsating, my eyes were forced first to a squint and then tightly shut as I moaned out pure bliss into his living room. A tiny flood of my juices further assaulted the insufficient dam of my panties and I’m sure made a significant wet patch under my ass on the Warren family couch.

  Panting and blind as I was I didn’t realise what the sudden loosening sensation around my chest was at first but then I realised that Mr. Warren had sat on the chair by my head and undone the clasp of my bra from between the cups, exposing my chest to him completely. I was weak from the intensity of my orgasm and as his hands molested my newly naked flesh I half-heartedly tried to push them away while still eking out the very last bit of pleasure that I could between my legs.

  I stopped trying when I realised what wonderful attention he was giving my rock-hard pink nipples, tweaking and rolling them between his fingers and thumbs. He pulled them gently out from my body and temporarily changed the shape of my breasts from reasonably spherical to something more akin to a tent before releasing so they could snap back to their natural positions with a speed and firmness that could only be achieved by breasts as new as mine were.