Falling for the Babysitter

Chapter 20

She blushes. “If you saw me watching you, why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I didn’t want to embarrass you.” I smile. “And I kind of liked the attention.”

We squeeze through the space between the bushes. The small clearing is just wide enough to fit our bodies. As soon as we’re hidden, I kiss her. Her arms wrap around my neck, our tongues at war.

I slip my hands beneath her dress, unable to restrain myself any longer. Her panty-clad ass cheeks fit perfectly into my hands. But I want to feel her skin against mine so I slip my hands beneath the fabric and massage. Those beautiful breasts press up against me. The fabric of her dress is so thin I can feel her hard nipples beneath them. I can’t take it anymore. I need her naked. In one quick motion, I’m slipping the dress up over her head. I then slip her panties off.

Her breasts are magnificent. So perky they defy gravity, small areolas and bright pink nipples. I slip one into my mouth while I tease the other one with my fingers. Her moaning sounds drive me crazy. I fight back the animal inside of me that wants to spread her apart and pound its way inside of her. I have to keep reminding myself that up until yesterday she was still a virgin and her body might not be ready for that kind of ravishing yet.

Instead, I take my time, making sure she feels good. I slip my fingers between her folds. Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

“Damn, you’re so wet,” I say.

“That’s because it likes you,” she says as if her pussy were a kitten I’ve cuddled up with.

“I like it too. So does my cock.”

When she giggles, her muscles flex against my fingers. I groan, knowing how fantastic that would feel against my dick. In due time, I remind myself. Those muscles will flex even stronger when I make her come, and to make her come I need to not rush things.

I find the ridges of her g-spot and start to massage with the tips of my fingers, hooking them, pushing them. Watching Remy’s face as I do this, her eyes grow wide, mouth open, eyes glazed over as she stares at the sky. Her wetness builds up inside, pooling around my fingers. I move them faster.

The little whimpers she’s making are turning into full cries. I lock my lips on to hers so she doesn’t alert anyone who might be hanging around nearby. The last thing I need is for Sam to be wandering around. It’s very possible he’s walking around the neighborhood looking for me.

I break away from our kiss when her cries die down. “Fuck you’re tight,” I say when I try to enter a third finger but it won’t quite fit in.

“Feels so good,” she says, breathless.

Suddenly her body becomes rigid and she starts to spasm. That’s when I really start to pound my fingers into her. Again, my mouth clamps onto hers when she starts to scream. She becomes a puddle in my arms, her muscles spent and weakening from the orgasm. I lay her down on the sundress beneath her. When she finally comes down off her high, she looks at me, blinking as though I’m just now coming into focus.

“Welcome back,” I say, smiling down at her. She has leaves in her hair. I pick them out.

She looks sleepy, her eyes hooded. After the confrontation she had with Sam, she’s probably mentally drained. “That was incredible,” she says. “Why don’t orgasms ever feel like that when I give them to myself?”

I start to think about her alone in her room, in her bed, her fingers inside of her, frantically rubbing, trying to reach that brief moment of release. The look on her face when it finally happens.

My dick is so hard it feels as though it might explode. Yet, I still just want to make her feel good.

“I’m not done with you yet,” I say, patting her on the thigh.

“You better not be,” she says with a sluggish smile.

“I want you on your hand and knees.”

A look of nervousness briefly crosses her face. “Oh, it’s kind of bright out here and …” Her cheeks flush. The redness goes down her neck and chest. “I’m embarrassed for you to see everything.”

I’m not used to women I meet being embarrassed about anything when it comes to their bodies. Probably because most of them used it to get whatever they want. Flashing their bare asses was a bargaining chip. And it always worked. Remy isn’t like that though. She’s not the kind of girl to manipulate a man into getting what she wants.

“It’s okay,” I say, laying delicate kisses on her lips, nose, and chin. “You don’t have to be embarrassed in front of me ever.” I rub my hand across the soft skin of her flat belly, imagining what it would look like as it grew with my child inside. “I want to see every part of you, learn everything about you, know you inside out.”