Marie was frustrated. Once again her boyfriend Shawn had failed to satisfy her. After some gentle foreplay followed by a few minutes of slow, passionless penetration, he’d collapsed beside her, then snuggled up close and fallen promptly asleep.
Marie, of course, was just getting started. She silently teased her clit as her boyfriend snoozed next to her, bringing herself to a small but temporarily satiating orgasm.
It wasn’t that Shawn didn’t care, she thought as she starred at the ceiling fan. He was very romantic. But maybe that was exactly the problem: the romance was great in everyday life, but in the bedroom she didn’t want to be treated like his special princess. She wanted something a little more intense. Passionate. Forceful, even.
She and Shawn had been high school sweethearts, but now high school was over, and they would be starting college soon. She would be going to a private Liberal Arts College a few states away, and he had a track scholarship to the flagship state university. Despite the fact that Marie loved Shawn with everything in her 19 year-old heart, she wasn’t sure if he’d ever satisfy her in the bedroom.
“Wake up,” she whispered, nudging him on the shoulder, “we can’t be in here when the Jacksons come back!”
They were lying on the bed owned by the family she babysat for, Carol and Mark Jackson, longtime friends of her parents. She shoved her groggy boyfriend off the bed, handed him his pants, grabbed the large beach towel that she’d place on the comforter to hide any telltale signs of their activities, and smoothed the bed back down. It looked as if nothing had happened. And almost nothing had, she thought bitterly.
She pecked Shawn on the cheek and promised to call him before she went to bed that night. He slipped out the back door and headed home on foot – he only lived a few blocks away.
Marie put the big beach towel in the washer, then added a few assorted kitchen towels to make a full load. She babysat for the Jacksons so often she was almost a member of the family, and thought nothing of performing basic household chores. This made it easy for her and Shawn to do pretty much anything they wanted in the Jacksons’ house while they were gone. Everyone was happy with the arrangement.
Marie went upstairs to check on David, the 5-year-old that she’d been hired to watch. He was sound asleep in his bed. Perfect.
As she walked back down into the living room, she heard her cell phone ring. Expecting it to be Shawn, she was startled when she saw Mr. Jackson’s name on the display.
“Hi Marie,” he said, “how are things going?”
“Great,” she said, “David’s been asleep for over an hour, and I just did a load of laundry.”
“Hey, thanks!” said Mark Jackson, “I hope you know you really don’t have to do things like that.”
“I don’t mind,” said Marie.
“Look, we’re having a good time here, and I was hoping – if it’s ok with you – if we could stay out until 11 or so.”
“Sure thing Mr. Jackson. I’d be happy to stay longer.”
“Great, thanks!” he said, “and don’t forget you can use the TV in the rec room if you want to watch movies. The instructions for the remote control are in the top drawer.”
“Sure,” she said, rolling her eyes at the fact that he thought she would need instructions for a remote control. He wasn’t that old, was he? How old could he be? 35 at the most.
“And by the way,” he continued, “feel free to have that boyfriend of yours over – Shawn, isn’t it? – if you need company. Just behave yourselves, okay?”
“Mark!” she heard his wife scold him in the background.
“Relax, I’m just teasing. You weren’t offended, right Marie?”
“No Mr. Jackson. See you soon!”
She decided to watch TV in the basement rec room, just like Mr. Jackson had suggested. After locating the remote control, she sat on the big leather couch and tried for a few moments without success to get the TV set to come on.
After fiddling with the buttons for a few seconds more, she decided to consult the instructions after all.
The top drawer of the TV cabinet, which should have contained the instructions, was empty. So was the next drawer. The drawer after that, however, held the instructions, and a large shoebox labeled “old postcards.”
It struck Marie as a strange place to keep postcards. Out of idle curiosity she lifted the lid of the box and saw exactly what the label said – an unsorted stack of what appeared to be antique postcards.
She lifted a couple of the postcards out and sorted through them. They were from all over: Europe, America – even Australia. She sifted through them for a few minutes until her hand hit on something hard and plastic underneath the postcards. She pulled it out, dropping some of the postcards on the floor in the process, and couldn’t believe her eyes.
It was a porn DVD. The first she’d ever laid eyes on, in fact. It was entitled “Cock-stuffed Co-ed Babysitters.” The cover was the most obscene thing Marie had ever seen. It featured several shots of young women in short skirts and pigtails engaged in all kinds of sex acts with well-hung older men. Her heart pounded as she examined the photos. In one, a girl was bent over the arm of a couch not unlike the one in the rec room, being penetrated from behind by a man holding onto her pigtails like handlebars.
In another, a young woman was stretched out ass-up over an older man’s lap. “She’s been a naughty girl” said the caption. Was he giving her a spanking? Marie wondered.
In yet another, a third pig-tailed young woman was on her knees in front of an older man, her face covered in his cum. She smiled as she licked the last bit off the tip of his cockhead.
Marie was breathing fast, despite the absolute obscenity of what she had seen. Hands trembling, she opened the DVD case and popped the disc inside the player. Luckily, the instructions for operating the TV set turned out to be surprisingly simple, and she was able to bring up the main menu quickly.
Marie selected the first scene. The plot was ludicrous. A man came home early to find his babysitter masturbating in his bed.
“Let me show you how to do that,” he said, guiding her hand across her clit while he kissed her.
Soon, the actress was on her knees in front of him, devouring the largest cock that Marie had ever seen.
“Oh that’s so good,” moaned the actor, “you’re such a good little cocksucker.”
When Marie heard the word cocksucker, her hand shot down to her clitoris, reaching under the waistband of the sweatpants she was wearing. She had never heard a man say something so dirty to a woman before, but it was turning her on like crazy.
“Suck that dick you little slut,” groaned the man as he pushed his stiff rod into the young woman’s mouth. Shawn would never have dared to be that forceful with her!
Marie was sopping wet now, and afraid she was going to have to change her panties. She didn’t care.
The woman on screen knelt on the bed and let the well-endowed older man enter her from behind.
“Give it to me Mr. Robinson,” she moaned.
“You take this cock you little whore,” said the older man, grabbing her hair with one hand and smacking her ass with the other.
Marie had two fingers inside her own pussy now, imagining herself on all fours and Mr. Jackson behind her, pulling her hair and calling her his little slut. She fucked herself in time with the couple in the video, while she used her other hand to play with her clit.
“Oh yes, Mr. Robinson,” said the young woman on screen, “you’re fucking me so good!”
Marie watched as the couple switched positions several times. They fucked with the girl on top, then on her side, then from behind again. Finally, the girl dropped to her knees in front of the man, looked up at him and said:
“Shoot your load all over me, Mr. Robinson. I want it sooo bad!”
“Mr. Robinson” shot the biggest load that Marie had ever seen. It coated the young actress’ face and chest. She looked like a total whore, kneeling there covered in his seed.
That must mean she did a good job, Marie thought.
She kept herself on the brink of orgasm as the second scene started.
The plot was equally absurd. Once again, a man came home early to find his babysitter talking on the phone to her boyfriend.
“I told you no phone calls after 10 pm!” he scolded, “what if I’d had to reach you in an emergency?”
“Sorry Mr. P,” she said, “I guess I’ve been very naughty. What are you going to do about it?”
“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do about it,” said the actor, a middle-aged man sporting a ponytail, “I’m going to spank your cute little ass.”
“Oh Mr. P,” she cooed, “please don’t!”
Marie watched excitedly as the man pulled the young woman over his lap and lifted her short skirt to expose her pert young ass. As she saw the coed babysitter getting spanked, Marie knew that it was something she had to try.
“Oh Mr. P,” said the babysitter, “I promise to be a good girl.”
The scene ended much like the one before it: the couple fucked in several positions, and the man unloaded his cum onto the young woman’s face.
Marie finger-fucked herself to orgasm, pretending she was playing out the scene in the video with Mr. Jackson. He was quite handsome, and exuded such a sense of authority that younger guys like Shawn lacked.
She made sure to clean everything up and hide all traces of her masturbation session before the Jacksons got home. By the time their car was in the driveway, she had folded the laundry and emptied the dishwasher. She was a model babysitter.
“Thanks so much for staying overtime,” said Carol Jackson, clearly a little tipsy, “I’m in no condition to drive, so Mark will take you home.”
“Great,” said Marie, and grabbed her purse.
“Did you manage to entertain yourself tonight?” asked Mr. Jackson as they sat in the car. He looked as handsome as ever.
“Yeah,” said Marie, “in fact, I took your suggestion and watched a movie.”
“Oh?” said Mr. Jackson, his eyes on the road, “anything good?”
“Nah, just some stupid college sex comedy,” said Marie.
“Any problems with the remote? That thing drives me crazy.”
“Yeah it’s really tricky,” said Marie.
Then she decided to test the waters: “but the directions weren’t where you said they were. They were in the bottom drawer. Near your postcard collection.”
Mr. Jackson looked at her for a moment without betraying any emotion.
“Oh? I could have sworn they were in the top drawer. Anyway, you got it work, right?”
“Yeah. I looked at some of the postcards too.”
“I inherited those things from my father. He said there were some dirty ones in there from before the war. You didn’t see anything dirty in there, did you Marie?” his voice took on a flirtatious tone.
“Mr. Jackson!” she giggled, blushing.
“Have a good night,” he said, as he pulled into the driveway. She made sure to fiddle with her house keys for a long time so he could get a good look at her ass in his car headlights.
The next time she babysat, Marie couldn’t wait to get David to bed. As soon as the dishes were done, she went down into the den and found the DVD, right where it had been before. She got wet just thinking about watching the next scene.
It was another trite set-up: a frustrated husband drove his busty babysitter home at night after having a fight with his wife.
“She just doesn’t understand me,” complained the emotionless actor.
“Oooh, but I know what men like you need,” said the babysitter, reaching for his belt buckle. After going down on him in the parked car in the driveway for at least five minutes, the babysitter got out and bent over the hood of the car so her employer could fuck her.
As the well-hung stud pounded the young woman’s pussy, Marie watched with rapt attention. Her fingers raced over her clit while she fucked her own pussy with the other hand.
“Oh Mr. Jackson,” she moaned, “fucking give it to me!”
She closed her eyes and imagined herself bent over the hood of the car, taking Mr. Jackson’s big cock from behind. She made herself cum by slapping her own clit and thinking about the dirty things she’d like Mr. Jackson to say to her.
When she opened her eyes, the woman on screen was on her knees in front of the man, stroking his cock and looking up at him.
“Will you give me your cum, sir? Please?” she asked, her large tits exposed.
The man didn’t give her what she wanted right away. Instead, he grabbed onto her tits and teased them. He slapped his cock across her nipples and rubbed the head of it around them. The on-screen babysitter played with herself while he played with her tits.
Marie reached into her shirt and under her bra and began to play with her own breasts, which were quite large, but well-matched to her frame.
As the man on screen continued to please the woman, rubbing his cock all over her nipples and while she rubbed her own pussy, Marie was coming close to giving herself an orgasm through tit-play alone. How she longed for Mr. Jackson’s strong hands to fondle her! Unable to stand it any longer, she reached down and brushed her clit lightly.
Marie came for the second time that night, not even trying to suppress her earthy groan of pleasure.
On screen, the man was fucking the woman’s tits, sliding his big cock between her boobs as she pressed them together.
Marie thought that looked like fun. Just then her cell phone rang. It was Shawn.
She paused the video.
“Hey baby, I’ve been thinking about you,” he said.
“Me too,” she lied.
“Can I come over?” he asked.
“Maybe later,” said Marie, looking at the paused video image, “I’m busy right now.”
“Ok,” he said.
As soon as she hung up she started the video again. The man jerked his big cock all over the babysitter’s tits, coating them with long strings of sperm. She reached down and scooped up some of his sperm, putting it in her mouth and licking her fingers. Then she rubbed the rest of it into her tits, looking up at the man with wide eyes.
“Did I do a good job, sir?”
“Yes you did, honey,” said the man.
What a nasty slut! Marie thought.
That night, Shawn picked her up after the Jacksons came home. He drove her to her parents’ house, where they made out while parked in the driveway. She unbuckled his pants and fondled his cock and balls.
“That feels so good Marie,” moaned the young man.
She smiled at him and slowly put her head in his lap, taking his cock into her mouth, kneeling on the seat with her ass sticking up and out.
“Mmm,” she moaned on his cock, then took it out of her mouth for a second.
“Would you spank me while I suck your cock, Shawn?”
“What?” the young man was surprised.
“Slap my ass,” said Marie.
“I’m not going to hurt you!” protested her boyfriend.
“But I want you to.”
He half-heartedly tapped her ass with his hand.
“I’m sorry,” he said, stroking her hair, “I just can’t do it.”
“That’s ok,” she sighed, and quickly made him come with her hands and mouth, swallowing his meager load in a single gulp. He made no moves to reciprocate.
“See you tomorrow,” she said as she kissed him goodnight and went inside.
In her room, she spanked her own clit until she came, imagining Mr. Jackson standing over her, slapping his big hard cock across it.
That night as she fell asleep she resolved to seduce him. She had a plan.
The next morning she put on a black bra and matching lace thong panties, then locked herself in the bathroom. With her digital camera, she took several shots in the mirror, pouting for the camera in the sexiest poses she could think of.
She took photos with and without her bra. In some, she pretended to lick her own nipple. In others, she stuffed a few fingers in her panties and touched herself. She sucked on her own fingers like they were Mr. Jackson’s cock. She made sure to get some close-up shots of her ass as well.
After carefully choosing around a dozen of the best shots, she erased the rest, put the camera in her purse and then headed over to the Jacksons’ for her babysitting gig.
She spent the day playing in the park with David while Mr. and Mrs. Jackson went shopping.
When they came home, Mr. Jackson offered to drive her home again.
“How are things going with that boyfriend of yours?” he asked as they drove.
“Ok,” said Marie.
“Just ok? He seems like a nice guy.”
“That’s just the problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s too nice.”
“I think I understand,” grinned Mr. Jackson.
There was a tense silence for the rest of the trip. Marie thought it was sexual tension, but couldn’t be sure. There was only one way to find out, she thought: to put out the bait and see if he took it!
As she got out of the car, Marie slipped the camera into the pocket of the passenger-side door.
She thanked Mr. Jackson, closed the car door, then went into the house and up to her room to wait.
After about an hour, she dialed his cell phone.
“I think I left my camera in your car. Maybe in the pouch on the passenger side door. Could you check for me?”
“Sure thing. I’ll call you right back.”
Five minutes later, the phone rang.
“Found it!” said Mr. Jackson cheerfully.
“Oh thank god,” said Marie, “there are some very private pictures on there, and I really didn’t want to lose them. I would DIE of embarrassment if anyone saw them.”
“No problem, Marie,” said Mr. Jackson, “just pick it up tomorrow when you come by for the barbeque!”
With any luck, Mr. Jackson would look at her naughty pictures and get a glimpse of the true slut that his babysitter was. At least Marie hoped that’s what would happen.
The next day the Jacksons were hosting a barbeque for their friends. David was at his grandparents, so Marie and Shawn were invited as guests. Shawn picked Marie up in mid-afternoon.
“Hey,” he said, “that was a great blowjob the other night.”
“I aim to please,” she said.
“Sorry I didn’t want to…”
“That’s ok,” she interjected quickly, “I understand.”
“I just don’t like that rough stuff.”
They pulled into the Jacksons’ driveway.
Don’t worry, thought Marie, I’m going to find someone who does.
The barbeque was already in full swing. Mrs. Jackson cooked the burgers while Mr. Jackson talked to the guests, beer in hand. He flashed Marie a smile as she and Shawn joined the party.
While Shawn was distracted by a bratwurst, Mr. Jackson walked up to Marie, who had put on a strategically low-cut top and light summer skirt for the occasion.
“Want a beer?” he joked, pulling the bottle out of the way just as she grabbed for it.
“You’re not old enough,” he teased.
“I’m 19. Old enough for some things.”
“Like taking sexy pictures in the mirror?” he whispered.
He pulled her camera out of his pocket and handed it to her.
She smiled and started feeling bolder. Marie was astonished at how easy it was to flirt with Mr. Jackson.
“I should really tell your parents what naughty things you’re up to, young lady,” he scolded.
“Please Mr. Jackson,” she smiled, “isn’t there some other way?”
He leaned in close to her. A shiver went down Marie’s spine.
“Meet me in the first floor bathroom in five minutes,” her whispered.
“Honey, we’re out of ice! I’m going to go get some!” he called to his wife, then turned and headed for the house.
Marie’s heart pounded. She glanced at her watch. Could she wait five minutes to follow Mr. Jackson into the house? It was so deliciously forbidden she could barely stand it.