Babysitting… And Sitting and More Ch. 03
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All characters are at least 18 years old.
“I’m not asking you to suck his dick or anything like that.” It wasn’t the first time I’d ever heard someone utter words like that, but my ears bristled at hearing them come through my phone from Mrs. Jennings’ mouth. “I’m not sure Patrick would be able to handle that anyway,” Mrs. Jennings giggled. “But like I said, it’s just dinner. With the clients there, we just need a warm body sitting next to Patrick so it doesn’t look weird. Harold and I will be right there with you.”
The idea of spending time with her husband was a big draw, but given the history of sexual exploits between me and him, I wasn’t thrilled with spending any extended period of time with her. Then there was Patrick. I’d met him at a cookout Mr. and Mrs. Jennings had hosted at their house. The word “awkward” didn’t fully describe Patrick. It was almost as if he’d been sheltered from girls his entire life and then set free. He had the sort of mannerisms that might be cute for someone in their late teens. But while he wasn’t as old as Mr. and Mrs. Jennings, he was still several years older than me.
“Gee, Mrs. Jennings, I don’t know…” But I did know. I knew I didn’t want to go.
“Pretty please, Jasmine. It would mean a lot to Harold.”
She had unknowingly offered up the one thing that could draw me in. I’d do almost anything for her husband. My body felt warmer each time she mentioned his name during the phone call. This last one finally did me in. “Ok, I’ll do it,” I said at last.
“Thank you so much! And I’ll be sure to throw in a bonus on top of your usual babysitting rate.” She paused. “Especially since this is probably the biggest baby you’ve ever watched,” she stifled a laugh.
“You’ve got that right. But I’ll do my best.”
I was both dreading and looking forward to “date night” as it came. I opted to go with a maroon, form-fitting dress with medium-length sleeves. Its lace gave the illusion of being see-through, but the relatively high neckline kept it classy. I decided to keep the heels low. No need to risk stumbling around like a fool. I turned and looked at my butt in the mirror wondering whether the thong I was wearing underneath was too noticeable.
My mom dropped me off at the Jennings’ at 6:30. “Have a good time, sweetie.” She leaned across the front seat and pecked me on the left side of my forehead. “Let me know what time you need me to pick you up.”
“Thanks, mom. I’ll check with Mr. Jennings. I might be able to ride him.”
“What?” my mom’s eyebrows shot up.
“To get home. He might give me a ride.”
“Oh…umm…I suppose that would be alright…if it’s not too much trouble.”
“I don’t think he’d mind a ride.” I turned and opened the car door, biting my bottom lip to hide my smirk.
I gave her a wave as I stepped up to and knocked on the front door. The door cracked open and Mrs. Jennings’ head poked around it. Her long blonde hair was bundled up in large rollers.
“Jasmine! Welcome!” She leaned past me and gave my mom a wave as she held her purple robe closed with the other hand, then stepped aside and waved me in. “Thank you so much again for doing this.” She opened her arms and leaned in for a hug. As she did, her robe fell open revealing a lacy black bra that was doing a poor job of concealing her assets. I tried not to look at the pillowy, pale flesh as she stepped forward and embraced me. “I’ll be back in a little while. Harold should be dressed in a few minutes. Make yourself at home.” Mrs. Jennings turned and began climbing the stairs. “Rachel is upstairs with Alex. You can say ‘hello’ if you want. Your date should be here any minute,” she said. I made a gagging motion which drew a laugh from Mrs. Jennings.
I picked up the TV remote and settled back on the couch. The feel of the fabric against my legs immediately conjured up images of the night Mr. Jennings had ravished me and cum all over it and me. I flipped up the cushion and inspected the underside. Mr. Jennings had either done a great job cleaning the cushion or he had replaced it. My heartrate sped up as my mind drifted back to sitting bare bottom on the cushion, cowering under a blanket as Mrs. Jennings passed through the living room, oblivious to what we’d just done.
I snapped out of my daydream when I heard footsteps on the stairs behind me. I tipped my head upside down and looked back over the top of the couch. My mouth opened into a wide, silly grin when I saw Mr. Jennings strolling down the stairs in black pants and a white button-up that was accented with blue cufflinks. There was an untied dark blue necktie dangling around his neck. He returned my smile as he reached the bottom of the stairs. I continued to watch up him upside down as he approached the couch. I was a little startled when he reached out and took my head in both his hands, leaned down, and pressed his lips against mine. My body felt like it was turning to mush. When he came up, I was gasping for air.
“Hello kaçak iddaa Jasmine, I’ve missed you,” he said. “I was beginning to think you didn’t like me anymore.”
“I’ve missed you too. But you haven’t hired me in a long time,” I said. I poked my tongue into the inside of my cheek. “I figured you’d lost interest and have been letting Rachel have all of this incredible cock.” I reached over the back of the couch and grabbed it through his pants and was pleased to find it already hard.
He thrusted himself against my hand. “Mmmmm…you know you’re all the woman I need.” I knew he couldn’t possibly mean what he said, but it still made me feel warm all over anyway. He leaned forward and put his hands on my breasts and gently squeezed them through my dress. I arched my back, pressing them against his hands, shuddering each time his palms passed over my hard nipples.
“Think we have time to put this couch through another quick workout?” I said with a grin, my eyebrows raised.
Mr. Jennings jumped back like he’d been burned by fire. “No! No way.”
I slapped the back of the couch as his cock pulled free of my grasp. “Why not?” My voice had all the whine of a child.
“No…we…just no.” Mr. Jennings stepped past the couch and turned his body away from me. He reached for his tie as if intending to tie it but then leaned toward where the TV was set up, looking at the wires. He stared down at the nest of black cables as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.
It was one thing to say “no,” but I refused to be ignored. I hopped off the couch and crept up behind him. He jumped when I wrapped my arms around him. I stepped in close and pressed my breasts against his back. The scent of his cologne and manliness wafted up to my nose. It was intoxicating. I laid my head on the back of his shoulders and moaned into them as I ran my hands over his body. I could feel his hard chest and abs through his shirt. My hands drifted lower on his body and he didn’t stop me as my hands passed over his belt and grabbed his cock.
He tipped his head back as I stroked him through his pants. “Mmmm…that feels good.”
“I know something that would feel even better,” I said, moving my hand to his belt buckle. His hand came down over mine.
“No, we can’t. There isn’t enough time.”
“Well, at least let me suck it a little,” I whispered toward his ear. His grip on my hand loosened as if he was considering it. Not wanting to lose the momentum, I swung around in front of him and dropped to my knees. He smiled down at me, but there was still some worry in his eyes.
I worked quickly to unbuckle his belt and threw his pants down to his ankles before he could tell me to stop. His black silk boxers followed a moment later and his thick cock sprang into view. My mouth watered at the sight of it. A thick vein ran from the base, along the wide shaft, and up to the purple head. I took it in my right hand and was amazed at how hot it felt. Not wanting to waste a moment, I raised it and ran my tongue along the underside of the shaft from his balls all the way to the tip. This drew a moan from deep within his chest. I repeated the motion, working my way all the way around his cock until it was shiny with my saliva.
“Wanna see what my boyfriend taught me?”
Mr. Jennings nodded. “Yeah, show me,” his voice a whisper.
I kissed the tip of his cock and then worked my way around the head, gradually opening my lips as I went until I’d taken the head into my mouth. I relaxed my jaw and curled my tongue under his cock as I took in more of him. I withdrew him until my lips were around the head, then slid my mouth back down and repeated the motion, taking a little more each time. I tried to control and shorten my breaths as his tip neared my tonsils. Resisting the urge to gag and trying to relax my mouth and throat, I pushed his cock past my tonsils to the back of my throat. I paused, trying to maintain my composure. When I was confident that I wouldn’t throw up on him, I rubbed his cock back and forth against the back of my throat.
“Oh, shit!” Mr. Jennings grabbed a hold of both sides of my head. I shifted my hands around to his butt. It felt like I was holding two bricks. He gently withdrew and pushed back into my mouth. His eyes were closed and his face was turned to the ceiling. I squeezed his cheeks and pulled him forward, encouraging him to use my mouth. Mr. Jennings took the hint and began to speed up his thrusts until he was slamming his cock against the back of my throat. I did my best to time my breathing to avoid suffocating.
My eyes began to water, but that was nothing to compared to my mouth. I could feel the drool running past the corners of my mouth and dribbling onto my chin. The room was filled with the smacking and “glug glug” sounds of Mr. Jennings pistoning in and out of my mouth. I suddenly wondered whether Mrs. Jennings ever did this and grinned at the possibility that I was doing things for him that she couldn’t.
I illegal bahis reached down and pulled down the front of my dress. Because of the neckline, it was a bit of a struggle to get my tits out of my bra and over the top of my dress. I sat forward and rubbed them against Mr. Jennings’ legs, drawing another moan from him.
“Damn Jasmine, you’re so good. How did a nice girl like you learn to do this?” Mr. Jennings’ breath sounded short like he was on the verge of hyperventilating.
I smiled as best as I could around his cock while he continued to thrust. The drool from my mouth was dripping off my chin onto my exposed tits. I ignored it and grabbed back onto Mr. Jennings’ ass cheeks. They flexed beneath my grip with every thrust.
A knock at the front door froze both of us in place. It seemed like a full five seconds before either of us moved. I practically spit out Mr. Jennings’ cock and rolled back onto my butt, clawing at the front of my dress, trying to put my tits away. Mr. Jennings yanked up his boxers and pants but struggled with stuffing away his big, wet dick.
I wiped my mouth and jumped to my feet. Not knowing what to do, I made a beeline for the kitchen and listened as Mr. Jennings opened the front door. I reached into my dress and tried to readjust my bra. I was glad I’d worn a dark dress because my chest was still wet. Hopefully it would hide any spots.
Patrick’s voice carried across the living room to the kitchen, drawing down the corners of my mouth. I walked to the counter and picked up the toaster. Using the reflection, I did my best to reshape my hair and make myself look like I hadn’t just been gagging on Mr. Jennings’ cock. Satisfied, I pinched the corners of my mouth and pulled them up into a smile and tried to keep it on my face as I walked back into the living room.
“Jasmine! Wow, you look great!” Patrick’s mouth was hanging open as he looked me up and down. I half expected drool to start running down his chin as well.
“It’s good to see you again.” I nodded slightly at him. Mr. Jennings motioned at me to come closer and I almost shook my head. Not wanting to touch Patrick more than necessary, I offered my hand for a handshake. Patrick had other ideas. I was caught off guard when he leaned forward and kissed the back of my hand. He reluctantly let it go when I yanked my hand back.
“I’ll go see if Ashley is almost ready,” Mr. Jennings said.
“No, I’ll go,” I sprinted between him and Patrick and bounded up the stairs two at a time, thankful I’d decided against the high heels.
I walked past the closed door to Alex’s room. I could hear Rachel singing a soft lullaby. I continued down to Mr. Jennings and Mrs. Jennings’ bedroom. The door was half open. I rapped on it lightly and poked my head in.
“Come in,” Mrs. Jennings called from inside. I stepped into the room and found her sitting on a stool in front of a high-gloss, black armoire. There was a reflection from it that was mesmerizing and made it look almost as if it was made out of dark crystal. “I’m almost ready,” Mrs. Jennings said, snapping me out of my trance. “Could you help me put this on?” She offered me a heart-shaped pendant on a long gold chain. The pendant itself was also gold and had several small diamonds along the edge. It matched her gold and diamond earrings.
I stepped up behind her and took it into my hand. Mrs. Jennings swept her long hair away from her neck. Our eyes met in the reflection from the armoire and she smiled. I clasped the chain and let the pendant dangle down the front of her dark blue dress. She turned on her stool and stood to face me. She gave me a quick lookover as if seeing me for the first time that evening.
“I’ve got just the thing to really set your dress off.” She turned and went to a nearby jewelry box. After rummaging for a moment, she fished out a sparkling gold choker accented with diamonds. She patted the stool. “Here, have a seat.” I’m not sure which was bigger: my eyes or the diamonds.
I sat on the stool and pulled my hair out of the way. Her hands felt warm on my skin as she wrapped the necklace around my neck. The sparkle of the jewelry in the light was almost blinding. It looked like the stuff of royalty.
“It was an anniversary gift from a few years ago,” Mrs. Jennings said, as if reading my mind. She leaned in closer until I could feel her breath on my neck. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and a tingle went down my spine. She ran her fingers along the necklace and then onto my neck. There was a charge of electricity that bounced between her fingertips and the skin on my neck. My breath caught in my throat.
“Ashley! We’ve got to get going. Are you almost ready?” Mr. Jennings called up the stairs.
“Yes, we’re about to come now,” Mrs. Jennings said and stepped away from me. It wasn’t a moment too soon. I found myself taking in deep breaths of air as I got to my feet.
The restaurant was upscale. I couldn’t even imagine being able to bahis siteleri afford the breadsticks there. The host took us to a large table set near the back of the restaurant. An older man and woman greeted us. I recognized the man from the Jennings’ barbecue and assumed the woman was his wife. We exchanged greetings with two middle-aged couples at the table and two more couples joined us several minutes later.
While I was initially caught up in the specter of being in such a classy place, I soon grew bored as the main conversation turned to business. The women engaged in side talk about their careers or their children. I felt completely out of place like a kid playing dress up at her parents’ dinner party. For his credit, Patrick checked in on me several times to make sure I was doing ok and tried to include me in the ongoing conversation. He was trying a little too hard, but I appreciated his effort. I had to admit that he wasn’t the worst company and wasn’t entirely repulsive. He was clearly nervous around me. When he tried to pour me a glass of water, his hand was shaking so hard I thought he was going to drop the water carafe.
I found my attention throughout the night drifting back to Mr. and Mrs. Jennings. They spent most of the night huddled close together with Mr. Jennings’ arm draped around her, running his fingers through her golden hair. Whispering into her ear. Gently stroking her arm.
It was only after I realized that I’d balled and twisted my napkin into knots that I realized how jealous I’d grown by watching them. Yes, they were married. I got that. But it was like he was throwing her in my face. There was no denying that not three hours ago, he’d practically had his cock shoved halfway down my throat. Now, just like at the barbecue, he was acting like I didn’t exist. Like I was some needy little girl. But contrary to what he thought, I didn’t need shit from him.
“Hey, earth to Jasmine.” Patrick waved his hand in front of my face.
“What?” I practically shouted. His smile melted away and he shrank back into the seat when I turned my fiery gaze toward him. I immediately regretted it. He had been nothing but a gentleman the whole evening, even if awkward. “I’m sorry, I have a lot on my mind.” I leaned in close to him, letting our legs touch. The contact had an obvious effect on him.
“Oh..I…I…I was just…umm…actually I forget what I was going to say.” He nervously tried to laugh it off. He picked up his water and took a few sips. Mrs. Jennings’ giggles rang through my ears. I spied them out of the corner of my eye. As best as I could tell, Mr. Jennings was nibbling her earlobe. I tried to keep my face even as my blood ran hot.
“A toast!” someone at the end of the table said. A man in his 60s had raised his glass. Patrick poured champagne into a glass and shifted it in front of me.
“Uhh…I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Mr. Jennings said, reaching toward it, but he was too far away to reach it. “She shouldn’t have alcohol.”
I was still fuming over the way he was treating me. “Why? Are you worried I might have too much and say something I regret?” I narrowed my eyes.
There was a flicker of fear behind Mr. Jennings’ eyes. “No…uhh…I…it’s just that you’re under 21. I don’t want to break any laws.”
“Oh, lighten up Harold,” Mrs. Jennings chimed in.
I nodded at her and picked up my glass and joined the toast. It wasn’t my first taste of alcohol, but it was my first of champagne. The bubbles tickled my nose.
When the toast was over, Mr. Jennings and his wife resumed their snuggle-fest. I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to Patrick. “So,” I put my hand on his thigh, “how is a guy like you not taken?”
Patrick jumped at my touch and began coughing violently on his water, temporarily stopping all conversation at the table as everyone wondered whether he was going to drown or not. He sheepishly mopped up the spilled water on the table. I lifted my tortured napkin to his mouth and blotted it dry while trying to offer a sympathetic look.
Patrick smiled and took a moment to compose himself. Over the next several minutes, Patrick regaled me with seemingly every major detail of his life. His dairy allergy. The tall girl that picked on him in elementary school. His video game obsession. His great grades from kindergarten through graduate school. His rapid rise in the company. At several points, I had to clandestinely stab myself in the thigh with my fork to keep my eyelids from slipping down.
He mentioned several girls and women while recounting his life story, but I noticed that most were relatives or clearly platonic friendships. I had a sneaking suspicion he was a virgin. A smile crept across my face as I imagined reaching under the table to grab his cock and making him explode in his pants.
“What’s so funny?” Patrick asked, snapping me back to reality.
“Oh…uhh…nothing,” I said, scrambling. “I was…just considering how refreshing it is to talk to a guy like you. I spend my days listening to boys whining about their car or their coach or whatever test they’ve failed. They’re so immature.” I winced at the false flattery I was sending his way.
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