Backdoor Babysitter Temptress Ch. 03

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“What did you get up to last night?” Ellen asked as we ate a hurried breakfast and got the kids ready for school.

My gut tightened in panic. “What do you mean?” My voice came out strangled. “I didn’t do anything last night.” Fuck. What was Ellen talking about? Was she suspicious? I realised my wife was looking at me oddly.

“Just what I said Joe. I got home so late, sorry about that, and you were already asleep. You must have had an hour or two to yourself though, after the babysitter went home. Did you get a chance to unwind?”

The knot in my gut loosened, though not all the way. “Oh, yeah, right.” I tried to sound more relaxed, less like a panicky, guilt-ridden cheat. “Nothing really, just vegged out on the couch, drank a few beers.”

“You must have had more than a few beers,” Ellen said. “You were out cold when I came home, snoring like a bear. I’ve never seen someone sleep do deeply. And I saw what you did to the butter darling. Honestly, even if you’re drunk, would it kill to use a knife?”

I felt the blood drain from my face. I turned my back to my wife and made an act of fiddling with the coffee machine. Fuck. The butter. I’d forgotten all about it when I rearranged the kitchen last night. I could picture the mess I’d left it in. The top of the butter dish off, half of the butter inside missing, the rest deformed by finger-sized channels where I’d gouged it out in a hurry to smear it all over my cock.

Fuck, I had to be more careful. I’d have taken one look at that butter, thought about the nineteen-year-old babysitter in the house, and my mind would have jumped to only one thing. Luckily my wife was more innocent. Or at least I hoped Ellen was. That she didn’t have any suspicions after seeing the butter.

“Right, I’m going to be late for work,” I announced. I kissed Ellen quickly, grabbed my bag, and dashed out of the house.

The week passed in the same fashion as when I’d first fucked Rachel. The guilt was strong those first few days, it was oppressive. I was on edge, constantly angry. I didn’t sleep well, I couldn’t focus properly at work. But the guilt receded. It didn’t go away entirely, but it became more bearable. And like last time, it spurred me to lavish more attention on Ellen. I became the dutiful husband I should have been. I was attentive, I was loving. We had more sex that week than we’d had in years.

But, like last time, I couldn’t stop thinking about Rachel. It was even worse. As much as I tried to keep her out of my thoughts, as bad as I felt, I was plagued by visions of her. Vivid memories of her naked body, the touch of her, the taste of her. How wild she’d been, how frenzied. What we’d done together. I couldn’t deny it, it was the best sex I’d ever had. So good it was hard to believe it had really happened, that it wasn’t something I’d dreamed.

Rachel behaved the same way as last time too. She left me alone for five days before she contacted again. I was sure that was no coincidence. I was sure she knew what she was doing. That she was giving me space as I rode my guilt out. She was waiting until I’d be more receptive to her advances again.

I was at work when she texted me. Fuck, did she know how bored of my job I was? Could she sense when I was at my weakest? I was in a meeting that was entirely unnecessary. Mark, the project lead, had invited me to an hour-long cluster fuck of nonsense, only to ask me one simple question he could have asked me at my desk. It was a total waste of my time. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I was thankful for the distraction. I made a show of getting my phone out and paying it more attention than the meeting in a rather childish, but satisfying, act of passive-aggressive defiance.

I saw a message from a number I didn’t now. A string of numerals sat where a name should be. I clicked it open and an image came into focus at the top of a new conversation thread. I jumped as I realised what I was looking at. I nearly dropped my phone. Thank fuck I hadn’t, if it had landed face-up, people would have screamed. I’d have found myself in front of HR in seconds.

My heart raced. I slid my phone back into my trouser pocket.

There’d been no face on the picture, but I’d recognised the naked body instantly. That slender stomach, the heavy but high breasts, the small square of dark golden hair above a fleshy, pink, glistening cunt. I’d only seen the image for a heartbeat, but it looked like the handle of that hairbrush was back up Rachel’s backside again, and that another, thicker one was deep in her pussy.

Fuck. This girl was unrelenting. I’d blocked her number, and what? Had she got a new fucking phone especially to torture me?

My phone buzzed against my thigh a second time. Then a third, seconds later. I tried to focus on the meeting, even if I didn’t care about anything anyone was saying, as my phone vibrated again and again in my pocket.

I ended up making an excuse to leave the meeting early. That was bad form in our corporate culture, people frowned at me, Mark looked irritated, but my phone was burning a hole in my pocket. ankara eryaman escort I was useless at that point, way beyond being able to concentrate on anything work-related. I dropped my notebook off at my desk and strode towards the nearest men’s toilets.

A stronger man, a more sensible man, a less foolish one, would have simply deleted the messages without looking at them. He’d have blocked that number too. Again. But I was weak. I was bored. I was stupid. I locked myself in a cubicle and unlocked my phone. I opened the conversation and a stream of X-rated photos and text messages sprang up. Jesus fucking Christ this girl.

+You want to come over? My parents are out. I’m bored and horny. Thinking of you.+

And below the message was a closeup photo of Rachel’s gorgeous derriere with three greased fingers buried in her arsehole.

+We can have all afternoon together. We can do whatever we want. You can do whatever you want.+

Below that were more images, Rachel in various positions with fingers, that hair hairbrush handle, and a purple vibrator up her bum; another large, flat-headed vibrator held against her pussy.

Fuck me. I felt hot and dizzy. I was hard as rock. My cock pulsed in my trousers. This time I didn’t delete the images. I created a hidden folder on my phone and moved them to it. Then I noticed the final message from Rachel.

+That was the first time anyone has ever done that to me. I want you to know that Joe.+

First time for what? It wasn’t the first time I’d fucked her arse; we’d crossed that line already. I was pretty sure she’d done it before, too, the way she slid me up her with ease and skill. I was curious. I knew I shouldn’t, but I found myself replying.

+First time for what?+

Rachel responded right away. I didn’t even have time to put my phone down.

+Spanking.+

Another message appeared seconds later.

+I’ve never done that before. I loved it. How did you know?+

My fingers trembled ever so slightly as I typed my reply. I felt an unsteadying mix of guilt and fear and dread and excitement. The feeling you get when you know you’re doing something bad but when you can’t stop yourself. I was the moth; Rachel was the flame. I texted her back.

+I didn’t. I wasn’t thinking. I just did it. It was instinct.+

+You see. I told you.+

+Told me what?+

+That we’ve got something. A compatibility. You fuck me better than anyone. You get me. No one else ever has.+

I didn’t respond to that. I couldn’t. The dread came on stronger because I knew Rachel was right. I felt nauseous.

+You can’t stop thinking about me, can you? About what we did. About what we could do.+

+No.+

+Come over now. Leave work early. Tell them you don’t feel well.+

+ I can’t see you again. We need to stop this,+

+You won’t. You can’t stop this.+

I closed my eyes and hung my head. I opened my eyes when my phone buzzed again in my hands.

+I’m only home for three more weeks of summer.+

My phone buzzed again.

+We can have fun for the next three weeks, then I’m gone. Deal?+

I just sat there and stared at my phone.

+Just think of the things we can do together Joe. I do. All the time. I want you to push my boundaries. I want to see what happens next. Don’t you?+

My thumb hovered over the reply box.

+I’m not going to leave you alone Joe. I want you. Come over and see me now.+

+I can’t.+

+You can and you will.+

Fuck, I knew she was right. I hated myself, I hated her, but Rachel was right. I was going to give into temptation again. It was just a matter of time.

I slumped on the closed toilet seat and held my phone limply in my hand. I didn’t reply and my phone fell silent. Rachel left me alone for the rest of that day, but I knew that wouldn’t last. I knew it was just a temporary mercy, that Rachel wouldn’t give up so easily. I’d never have guessed how she’d plague me next though.

Wednesday night that week was my turn to head out for the evening with the guys. Ellen stayed home with the kids whilst I went to the sports bar on the high street to watch the Wednesday night match with my mates.

We always got there early to claim the largest table at the back of the room, directly opposite the projection screen. There was six of us, including myself, that meant six rounds, six pints of beer. I was going to be stumbling home drunk later, I was going to be suffering tomorrow. I needed it though. I needed to see my friends, to laugh and drink and forget about everything, about work, but mostly about Rachel.

It was midway through the second half when it happened.

We were on our fourth round of beers, I was feeling light and happy and drunk. I only had half an eye on the match as we bullshitted and tried to one up each other with idiotic jokes and anecdotes. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see who was touching me. My stomach dropped when my eyes met hers. It felt like I’d fallen through the floor.

“Hey Mr Evans,” Rachel said with a escort sınırsız çankaya shy smile on her face. “I thought it was you. How’s it going?”

I went cold to my core. What the fuck? How did she know I was here? Had she followed me? I realised I was staring at Rachel, not saying anything.

“Yeah, good.” I tried to sound as normal as I could. “What are you doing here?” I didn’t look around at my friends, but they’d all fallen silent. I could feel them staring, all gawping at Rachel I was sure.

That shy smile spread a little wider. A touch of colour came to her cheeks as if she was a timid teenage girl, nervous about talking to a grown man in front of his mates. She played the role well.

“I’m just here with some friends.” Rachel gestured over her shoulder with a thumb. “Some of them wanted to watch the match, but I’m not really into it.” She gave me an apologetic look, as if her admission to not liking football might offend me. That touch was very well played. “I don’t get football. I’m just here to get out of the house.”

“You want to join us?” James butted in as I was thinking what to say to Rachel next, how I could best get rid of her. “We can explain everything,” he slurred.

“Oh no, I don’t want to intrude,” Rachel said.

“Nonsense, it’d be our pleasure.” James sounded drunk and smarmy.

I span on my stool to face him. “Jesus, leave the poor girl alone James. She doesn’t want to sit with a bunch of old farts like us.” I turned back to her. “It was nice seeing you though Rachel. Have a good time with your friends.”

She beamed at me. She looked so beautiful it hurt. I smelled her summary perfume. “Thanks Mr Evans, you too. Nice to meet you all,” Rachel waved at my friends, then she turned and hopped back into the press of bodies to the side of us. Her long, blonde, silken hair shone, it bounced as she moved. I caught a glimpse of her jeans pulled tight across her full, firm behind.

My heart was pounding. I felt wired and trembly with adrenaline. I realised I was hard. Fuck, she’d only been in front of me for a handful of seconds, but Rachel had such an effect on me. Like a hammer blow. I took a breath to compose myself, then I turned back to my friends.

They were all grinning at me like idiot teenage boys.

“Who the hell was that?” Duncan said.

“She’s our babysitter.”

They all replied at once, a chorus of, “you lucky bastard,” and, “no fucking shit, you jammy cunt” and, “is she looking for more babysitting opportunities?”

“Christ though Joe, she’s incredible,” Steve said. “She’s stunning.”

“And those tits,” James added. “They looked like they were trying to escape her top. They looked… ripe.”

“Did you see her arse too?” Dave said. He looked over at me. “Have you?”

I think Dave said it as more of a joke than anything, a bit of male bravado, just drunken banter. My gut tightened at his words though. “Guys please, you’re embarrassing yourselves. She’s a fucking teenager.”

“Legal though, right?” James said.

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer. She’s babysat for us for years. I just see her as a kid.”

“Bullshit,” Duncan said. “No man in his right mind can look at that young woman and not see sex on legs. She was dynamite.”

“He’s right,” Martin chipped in. “Just looking at her made me wish I was twenty years younger again.”

“I bet she looks insane naked,” James said. “Slim and pert and blooming. I bet she fucks like…”

“Guys, knock it off.” I made it sound relaxed, or I tried to, like I was done with the conversation, but more because I was bored than annoyed. “She’s just a kid. You all sound like dirty old men. Leave the poor girl alone.”

They begrudgingly gave up on Rachel and the conversation moved on. I couldn’t stop thinking about her though. I felt unsettled, guilty, but excited too. The unexpected sight of her had knocked me off balance. It woke me up. I felt nervous and giddy.

When no one was looking, I glanced around the bar to find her. I saw Rachel sitting in a far corner with a mix of girls and guys her age. I found myself looking over at her again and again throughout the evening. She was laughing and chatting animatedly with her friends. She was so fucking beautiful.

Rachel looked up and met my eyes. She held my gaze and smiled at me, and it wasn’t the shy smile from earlier, it was knowing, it was predatory. I looked away.

I needed to clear my head. “Fuck, I’m getting too old for this,” I announced. “I’m drunk. I’m going to the bar to get some water. Anyone want any?”

My mates looked either incredulous or disapproving. No one else wanted water. I slipped off my stool and headed to the packed bar as they hurled various insults at me.

The game was in the dying minutes now, but the place was busier than ever. I had to press through a crush of people to get to the front of the bar. I asked the barman for a pint of water when he looked over at me. He frowned like I was wasting his time.

“You’ll need to order more than that if you want water çankaya eve gelen escort bayan mate. I need to charge you to open the till,” he shouted over the noise.

“Good, you can buy me a drink then,” Rachel said as she pressed herself between me and the guy at my side. “Rum and coke, please.”

The barman raised an eyebrow at me. I nodded a yes.

Rachel stood on her toes to reach my ear. “Before you ask, I didn’t know you’d be here.”

I turned and gave her a sceptical look.

Rachel shrugged. “How could I? I’m not tracking you. It was just fate, I guess. The universe conspiring to bring us together.”

“I don’t believe in fate.”

“No. Me neither. Just good luck then.” Rachel grinned at me. Her face was close to mine, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes wide, a little glazed. She had a look on her face I’d never seen before. She was rocking slightly. It wasn’t just the movement of the people around us.

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re one to talk,” Rachel said. “I can smell the beer coming off you.” She went up on her toes and put her lips to my ear again. “I’m not drunk. I’m high. I’ve had a couple of pills.”

“What pills?” I whisper-shouted into her ear.

“Ecstasy. You want one?”

Rachel’s body was pressed against mine. I felt the heat of her, the shape of her against me. I caught the scent of her perfume once more, of her hair and skin. I was hard. Again. Achingly so. I shook my head at her.

Rachel smiled an amused, slightly addled smile at me. “You ever had it?”

“No.”

She laughed at me. “Never? That’s awful Joe. I’m surprised. I’d have thought you would have. Someone as… adventurous as you.”

“It’s dangerous.” I winced as I said it. I sounded every inch the dull, joyless father who’s given up on risk and adventure.

Rachel laughed again. “Don’t you want to live Joe? Experience everything.”

I did once, but I didn’t say that. I didn’t have an answer for Rachel that wasn’t crushingly depressing. The barman handed Rachel her drink, a glass of water to me. I paid him.

Rachel looked at the water in my hand, then up at me. “I guess not.”

I was about to tell Rachel that at my age, alcohol hit you a hell of a lot harder the next day, but I bit my tongue. I’d sounded old and miserable enough already.

Rachel stood up and put her face next to mine to speak in my ear again. “You want to go somewhere a little more private?” A hand slid across the back of my jeans, she tightened her fingers and grasped me hard.

I knocked Rachel’s hand away. It was so packed around the bar, no one would see, but I had to try and stop her. To put her off. Even if a part of me was crying out for the exact opposite. “That’s not a good idea.”

People shoved around us now that we had drinks in our hands. They pushed to get to the front of the bar, and Rachel and I were forced back into the crowd. We were pressed even closer together. Rachel took advantage of it to crush herself into me. I felt her breasts against my chest, her thighs moved either side of mine as she rubbed her crotch into my leg. The smell of her hit me again, harder, that unique blend of perfume and her own scent. I hoped Rachel couldn’t feel how hard I was.

“No, it’s a wonderful idea,” Rachel said. She talked out loud now, openly, not caring if anyone around us heard. “I can’t think of anything better,” she yelled above the noise. “I know the perfect place too, not far from here.”

“I don’t think so.”

Rachel grasped my arse again. She pulled me into her with her hand back there. She ground herself into my thigh. Rachel leaned in closer this time as she spoke, but she was loud still. “I’m wet just looking at you.” Her breath was hot against the side of my face. Her hair as soft as silk where it touched my skin. “I want to fuck you. I want you to spank me. We can do whatever you want. Whatever.”

I was paralyzed.

Her other hand found the shape of my swollen cock in my jeans. Rachel ran her fingers over me, she did her best to hold and squeeze me through my clothes. “Why fight the inevitable Joe?” she whispered. “Lets go. Now.”

I heard the three sharp blasts of the final whistle that brought the match to a close. I looked up at the screen, I snapped back to reality. I remembered where I was. I pushed Rachel away and stepped back from her, as far as possible in the crowd. “No.”

A look of fury flashed over Rachel’s face. She made an angry, snarling sound as I turned away from her and pushed my way through the throng of people, back to my friends.

None of them had noticed what had happened. None of them had paid me any attention, they were deep into a dissection of the match already. I joined in. I didn’t look around at Rachel again. I tried not to think about her.

We drank a final round of pints as the bar emptied around us. As I drained my glass and set it down, I got up to go and pee before I wandered home. I glanced over and saw an empty table where Rachel had been sitting with her friends as I stumbled to the back of the bar. I breathed easier as my chest relaxed. I was safe, this time at least.

I realised how drunk I was as I stood, swaying in front of the urinal, trying my best to not pee on my shoes. I heard the bathroom door swing open as I washed my hands, but I didn’t look up. I turned away from the sink to leave, and that’s the moment I was attacked.

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