Babysitting

John sighed as he pulled his tie down, the obsidian black neckpiece dangling open over his white dress shirt, ends shifting side to side as he took off his matching blazer. Wearily he hung the pricey garment on a hook attached to his door, slumping onto the edge of his empty king-sized bed.

His anniversary hadn't gone as planned.

He'd been trying for years now to keep his marriage together, his wife Mary having grown distant after the birth of their son Gregg, the newest of their trio of children. The other two were twin girls, just now turned ten years old. For months following their son's birth John had tried to spice up their life, doing all those cute romantic things you'd see in sappy movies meant for single women and teenage girls, but his wife simply blanked him and continued on like nothing happened.

Tonight's dinner had been his last big attempt to resuscitate their love life, and it'd crumbled so god-damned miserably that he'd been forced to utter words he'd never expected to say.

"Mary... I think we should get a divorce,"

The saddest part was, that despite the twenty years they'd been together, she didn't show a hint of emotion when she agreed. She simply went on eating her dinner, unphased by the end of their life together, and quietly stated that she would be taking a cab to her sister's. He left soon after, paying the bill with a generous tip to the young waiter, and made the long drive back to their large home.

And back to the babysitter.

Her name was Sarah, a daughter of a co-worker of his, and possibly the best babysitter he'd seen since having children. The freckled seventeen year old girl had this beautiful mane of auburn hair (natural she stated) and two beautiful green eyes that were framed by a perfect heart-shaped face complete with a pixy-like nose that she scrunched up to make the twins laugh. The rest of her was there as well, but as a good married man John had made an effort not to notice her maturing body. He'd avoided gazing at her creamy white thighs in the short shorts she'd worn sometimes, or the smooth skin  of her tummy when her shirt would ride up, and (most definitely) the twin bulging breasts that tented out the front of her tops like twin balloons.

Oh look, there's the erection he'd lost during dinner, imagine that.

Running his hands through his dirty blonde hair, he let out a sigh as he realized Sarah was still downstairs on his couch, watching some shitty reality show waiting for her pay. Checking the time (8:30) he sucked in a breath of cold air before slowly making his way downstairs. True to his realization, she was still on the couch, but instead of reality tv she watched some strange show about mountains and vipers. Upon noticing him, she turned the television down, pulling her legs (clad in knee-high socks nonetheless) up to her chest. He noticed that she was wearing glasses, the black-rimmed kind you saw on a 1950's-esque nerd, and wondered if they were some fashion statement or if she wore contacts.

"Hiya Mr. M, what's the haps?"

She beamed at him as he sat on his chair nearby, ignoring his disheveled look, or what he assumed was the 1000-yard stare of depression he wore.

"You're home really early, thought you a the missus would've taken a bit longer. Doesn't matter though, the kids went to sleep fast tonight, must've been the chloroform,"

He chuckled at her joke, reaching for his wallet, and pulling the dark leatherbound item out.

"You... don't look so hot Mr. M, did uh... nevermind,"

She quickly backtracked from the question he reckoned was about Mary. Setting the wallet down on the nearby coffee table, he opened the cuffs of his shirt and began to roll the sleeves up.

"Mary won't be home tonight, or tomorrow, possibly not anymore,"

She gasped as she realized what he meant, hands coming up to cover her mouth.

"Ohmigod Mr. M I'm so sorry-"

He waved her off before she could continue, not really in the mood for words of pity.

"Don't worry about it, been coming for a while,"

He stood, running his hand through his hair again as he stepped into the kitchen, snagging a beer from his fridge. Popping the cap with his thumb, his savored the taste of the dark lager as he sat back down.

"Well... if you wanna talk about it... I'm here,"

He didn't refuse, instead he sat there drinking his beer spilling his guts out to a teenage girl. Telling her about how cold she'd been to him in private, how sleeping in their bed felt like prison, how the face that she'd shown people was a performance any actor would die to copy, and over the decomposing corpse of their love life. Before he knew it there were a handful of empty bottles gracing his coffee table, some his, some hers. He didn't know exactly when she'd snuck some past him, the haze of the alcohol dulling his normally high amount of restraint. He'd also somehow migrated from his chair to the couch next to her, and his eyes grazed lazily over her body. Over the white shirt that stretched over her bust, the denim shorts that were so tight her thighs bulged around the frayed ends, the black trimmed knee socks that encased her white flesh.

"Wow, sounds like your marriage went to real shit,"

He snorted at her honest assessment, draining the rest of his bottle and setting it down on the table.

"At least  you won't have trouble with dating,"

He cocked his eyebrow at her, look of confusion played across his face.

"What does that mean?"

She set the beer down, face slightly red as she avoided her eyes.

"I-Imeanto say that... fuck it dude, you're hot,"

She shifted toward him with that comment, biting her lip as she ran her eyes over him.

He felt immediately like he should stop her, but the mixture of alcohol and only his hand to please him for the last 4 years kept his body in a sort of stasis when she straddled him. Pink lips crushed against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck.  Her breath tasted like the lager mixed with some sort of peppermint toothpaste and the fragrance of strawberry perfume that intoxicated him with a far more dangerous substance than alcohol.

Pure, unadulterated lust.

Suddenly remembering he had hands, they shot up to grab her round butt, eliciting and excited squeal out of the teenage girl as she pushed the bouncy, denim-clad flesh into his grip. His hands worked their way quickly up her sides, and to the twin watermelons she smuggled under that paper-thin shirt. Leaning back, she let out a low moan as his hands squeezed her breasts, the pendulous flesh yielding in that satisfying way that made a man's higher cognitive functions shut down. She ground her hips against him as he mauled her chest, her hand feverishly working to pull open his pants when he finally regained enough IQ to realize taking his co-worker's underage daughter's virginity would probably be a bad thing.

Pulling a hand from her heaving cleavage, he took her roaming hand and moved it towards her own waistband, sliding the grasping appendage down onto her own soaking wet sex. Seemingly un-offended, she furiously masturbated as he pulled her shirt up over her bra, leaning forward to kiss the pale-white cleavage offered by the white laced cotton underwear.

"Oh yes Mr. M, just like thaa~" she moaned as he continued to kiss his way over her breasts, hands pulling the cups down to reveal twin hardened nipples.

Once unleashed, his hungry mouth quickly found the protruding nubs, latching onto them as she loudly proclaimed her orgasm. He continued to play with them as she rode her climax, and finally pulled off when she slid her hand out of her panties, sliding her fingers into her own mouth.

"Mr. M, I didn't know you were good like that,"

"Call me John,"

"Well... John, it's only fair I return the favor,"

She smirked at him as she slid down onto the floor, pushing the coffee table back, and pulling his pants open, releasing the beast within. After pulling the black slacks off and tossing them aside, she stopped to marvel at the seven inch slab of cock dangling in front of her. Cooing slightly she pushed his legs apart, sliding up close to the thick purple tip and giving it a quick kiss.
"You're gonna be the first guy I do this to, hell, the first guy I do anything to," she giggled before engulfing his cock in her mouth.
She was fairly inexperienced, trying to take far too much in her mouth and coughing when it hit her uvula, but that didn't slow her down. Instead, with each failed attempt she spat out the extra saliva onto his cock, slathering it with her hands as she made another stab at taking his full length. Eventually she found her comfortable point, and focused on sucking what she could take (which was nearly half) and playing with the fat pair of swollen balls dangling underneath. It was heavenly, a sensation he hadn't felt since college, and with each tickle of her hair on his legs and each wriggle of her tongue on the thick vein on the underside of his dick, he struggled not to cum.

The suddenly, the suction stopped, and he looked down to see nothing but white... as she threw her shirt at him.

Tossing the top aside, he chuckled as she shot him a sultry smile, tossing her bra behind her. Leaning forward she cupped a breast in each hand, opening them to fit his cock in before smothering it with breastflesh.

"Oh fuck," he stammered, overcome by both the sensation of her hot cleavage and the intense realization of the situation he was in, like some cheap porn fantasy.

Giggling she began to slide her breasts up and down, his saliva coated dick greasing up her makeshift cocktunnel and mixing with the thin sheen of sweat coating her body from the alcohol. Breathing heavy he watched as she focused on his head popping out from between her tits as she bounced them up and down, occasionally alternating to moving them independently. It  was insane, the sensation of not only being rubbed off by her boobs, but having someone completely devoted to making you cum.

The final straw was when she began to flick her tongue out, playing acoss his slit with each downthrust.

"Fuck I'm-!"

The warning wasn't fast enough as the first shot splashed up onto her face, splitting across the bridge of her nose and smearing her glasses. The next trio of thick ropes arced into the air, splattering down onto her breasts as she continued to tittyfuck him. The rest spurted out into her cleavage, leaving a trail of sticky white jizz down in-between her cleavage. Once he'd finally finished she leaned back, cleaning her chest off with a finger, and sucking down the pearlescent spooge.

"Wow, I guess you weren't lying about the sex thing,"

Chuckling, he helped her up off the ground, pulling his pants back on as she re-dressed. Reaching for his wallet he was surprised when she stopped him.

"Don't worry about the money, doesn't seem right to charge you when you're gonna be an income of one soon. If you ever need a babysitter though, call me first okay?"

The last bit was said with a undertone of uncertainty, one that was swept away as he pulled her into a kiss.

"Oh don't worry, I think you'll have your hands full helping me from now on,"