The babysitter.

He swore to himself that he would never pick up the phone to call her. But there was something insatiable about the taste of her kiss that made the urge to quench his passions for her grow. As he sat in his den in his large house, he lit a cigarette and stared at the phone. Transcending the time and space of his leather chair, he could feel the soft, tender lips. They where plump, smooth, filled with a flavor of vanilla and of course, innocents. The dilemma was not that she was younger that him, much younger, but that someone of her age could possess the finesse, the skill, and the passion of a women years beyond her tender age.


On his desk was a picture of her with his family. It was taken when she accompanied them on a vacation trip to watch his children. It was his wife's' idea to bring her along. The kids loved her so much, they though of her as their older sister. She could have been. She was young enough to be his daughter, and at times he treated her as such. She had been babysitting for a little over a year, and asked her parents if she would be allowed to join them on this trip. It was his and his wife's way of thanking her for watching the kids. Of course he had no problem in paying for her flight and her own room. It was what he wanted to do, it was perfect for him. The kids and her room where connected by a common door, while his and his wife's shared the same wall as the babysitter. Of course it just so happened that the beds of the babysitter and his where butted up against the common wall. Knowing this, he suggested to his wife that they should make love when the kids where out of the rooms, so that the babysitter wouldn't hear her loud screams of passion.


The first night there, he could here the kids up past their bedtime. Of course they waited to take advantage of the summer weather and vacation to burn off all that extra energy pent up over the school session. Walking his he could see that the kid where ready for bed...well sort of. They where dress in shorts and a t-shirt. When he was walking towards the sofa where the kids where playing, she walked in thru the connecting door. She too was ready for bed, but in a much more conservative way. She was dressed in long t-shirt that covered her bottom half along with pajama pants. The shirt was thin enough to see that she didn't have on a bra. He took another glance to see her as she hustled the kids into their beds. Her little nipples where a soft pink, as if it where from a newborn. Her breast where small for her age, about a 32C, but perfect for the medium, athletic build. Again, he took another glimpse to see if he could see her flesh. Trying to make him self as inconspicuous as he could around his children, but only managed to her back.
He leans over to kiss his boys good night, tells them to get a good night sleep, and to be ready for a long day of fun. His youngest ask him if the babysitter can sleep with then tonight.
"Maybe tomorrow night she can sleep with you." It was then that he knew he had to have her.


When he returned to his room, his wife was on the bed, dressed in a red silk teddy, rubbing her self. Without a word he lay on the bed and began to eat her smooth pussy. Pulling back her lips to let her hard clit be shown. Like a hungry man he sucked, tugged and licked her clit. His wife began to moan and whimper like a schoolgirl. Even though he was with his wife, all he could think of was the tender breast of the babysitter, and could only imagine what the rest of her body was like.
What kind of boys does she like? What kind of panties does she wear? Does she shave her self? Does she masturbate? Is she a virgin?
He continued to eat her pussy, but now the sounds of his wife where replaced with the image of the babysitter. He could see her soft face; feel her body move like his wife's. He imagined the pussy he was eating belonged to her, and with that he intensified his actions. He licked, fingered and made his wife cum so hard that she began to scream in passion. Encouraging him to eat her like he never had done before. She had no regard to her surroundings. She had lost the thought of being in a hotel room, with the babysitter in the next room or that her children where just as close. But he did. He knew that the babysitter could hear what was going on. He knew that she could hear his wife grunt, whimper, and scream and cry out his name as she came on his face. And all the while he thought of her.


While his wife was still twitching from him eating her pussy, he simply climbed on top of her and entered her like a wild man. Relentlessly drilling his cock deep into her soaking wet pussy. With every thrust of his cock was met with pants, coos and whimpers that she could barely get out of her mouth. It was as if she was drowning in his lust. Silent screams of pleasure followed every gasp of air. He looked deeply into her eyes with the stare of an animal. He pounded harder. Deeper. Faster. Her pants and whimpers soon turned into screams of his fierce pleasures he was giving to her. He knew that the harder he pumped, the louder she would become, in hopes that the babysitter would hear the sexual explosion that was going on. His mind was so preoccupied by the though of the babysitter in the next room, that he pictured her under him in place of his wife. He kept pounding her pussy until she gushed her cum all over the sheets and his red-hot cock.


The next morning the family gathered for breakfast by the beach. The children where all ready seated at the table when he and his wife arrived. The babysitter was hiding under her sunglasses, a summer dress that covered her enough to show a bit of her bikini top, but enough to keep him frustrated inside. The greeted each other and the children. The wife spoke," So how did everyone sleep last night?" The children all went into detail as tell their mother how big the beds where, and how late they stayed up and how early the babysitter woke them. Telling them what a long day they had planned. The waiter arrived and poured both his and his wife a cup of coffee. She sipped and swooned at the beverage, to which the babysitter all coughed and quickly covered her mouth to prevent her from spiting it out. It was the way the wife swooned that made the babysitter laugh. It reminded her of what she did hear on the other side of the wall last night. All this time he too was hiding behind his sunglasses. Trying to not to make any direct interaction with her. He barely said a thing. It wasn't until she almost lost her juice that he asked is she was all right. She composed her self and gave him a sheepish grin, "Yes, I'm alright. I must have swallowed funny."
He could feel his cock begin to grow. It was the way she said the word "swallow" that made him excited. The rest of the conversation was kept to a minimum. She excused her self and mentioned that she was going back to her room for a magazine she had forgotten. He knew that this would be the only time, if any, to ask her if she heard what went on last night. Trying to make it look as if he where not in a hurry, he took a sip of his coffee and got up from the table.
"I forgot my cigarettes, I'll be right back." He gave his wife a peck on the cheek.


Trying to walk as calm as possible down to his room, he could feel his cock get hard. The thought of being with her was too much to handle. His cock grew as a fast as a teenage boy on prom night. That's how he felt. His heart was racing, his pace quicken, he could smell her scent in the hallways. He knew he was close. He reaches his room only to find out that the maids are in there cleaning. He steps in and looks around. One maid stepped from the bathroom, "Your daughter went back to her room next door. She was in here taking a shower, because we where finishing up in her room. Would you like us to open her door for you?"


"Sure, would you mind?” giving them the fatherly look that he only could. They walked over and slide the card into the lock and open the door. He can here the shower running. The maid hands him a small tote bag. "She forgot her bag in the bathroom. I think it's her clothes she was going to change into." He thanks the maid, takes the bag and closes the door. It locks behind him. He opens the tote and looks inside. He finds her bikini and sundress that she was wearing at breakfast. At the bottom of the bag he finds a pair of low cut baby blue thongs panties. Their are cute and look much like the ones he bought his wife at a lingerie store a few months back. He picks them up, holds them up to she just how tiny she really is. He sees what looks like a stain on them. He knows what that stain is. It's the stain of a women's cum. His wife would save her cum soaked panties for him when he cam home from work, telling him how much she missed him, and how bad she wanted his cock inside her.


Just then he hears the shower turn off, and the shower door open. He quickly tries to put the clothes back into her bag, when she walks out, not even a towel wrapped around her wet body.
"What took you so long? I've been hoping you would follow me back to my room. I just couldn't wait to finger myself again."


"What do you mean? I came back to get my cigettes when the maid pointed out that you left you bag in my room." He hands her back the tote.


"Well what did you find in there?” looking thru to make sure that she still had everything in there. "Did I tell you I was just fingering my self again? I just can't get the image of you and your wife fucking out of my head. I heard you two last night. I know that you where thinking of me while your where fucking your wife." She struts over to the corner of her bed, leaving a trail of water. She sits down and spread her slender, yet muscular legs. She barely has enough hair on her pussy to cover her. Even with that, she still manages to shave what she can. Her hand starts down to her flat stomach, down over her belly button, down to her bikini line, stopping just above her shaved pussy. Buy now his cock is seconds away from bursting out of his shorts. The precum had begun to soak thru as he walks towards her.
"Did you find my panties inside the bag? I was wearing those last night when I heard you fucking your wife. I was lying in bed fingering myself like this, thinking how hard and how thick your cock was last night. Every time I heard her cum, it made me cum just as hard."


She begins to run her finger over her slit. Her pussy lips are rosey red and plump. Such tender lips, such a tiny thing, such a tease. He walks towards her near the corner of the bed. He take his hand and begins to pump is cock. Standing right in front of her, ready to make her a women, ready to make his greatest fantasy come true. He had not been this excited over a girl, not even when he was in school.
"Do you want to fuck me? Do you want me by first lover?"
"No, I want to watch you pleasure your self." And with that, she leaned back on the bed and plunged two of her tiny fingers into her pussy.
She worked her fingers deep and slow. Twisting them around inside her, making her pant each time she caressed her swollen g-spot. She knew what part of her body made her cum. She had let a few boys in her class finger her before. She wanted him to do the same. Each stroke of her fingers brought more and more juices from her pussy. Her hips meet each and every stroke of her hand, lifting her self off the bed. He keeps the same tempo on his cock, his cock covered in precum. Every time he fingers went in, his hand went down his cock. He could only imagine what that hot pussy feels like inside.


She start to build up, faster, a little deeper, her sighs and groans grow louder. Her face starts to blush. She lifts her head up from the bed to watch him handle his cock.
"Are you thinking about fucking me right now? I really want your cock inside me. I want you to fuck me as hard as you did your wife last night. I want to be your little whore."
She now is fucking her hand as fast as she can. Faster, deeper, harder, she grits her teeth. Her face is turning bright red, panting as if she where running. Gasping for air, gasping for pleasure, gasping for his cock. She is ready to cum, she keeps her eye locked on is cock. Watching him pump as fast as she is. He can't wait any longer.
"Want me to cum, want to watch me cum?" he asks her.
"yes..........yes, cum on my pussy........cum on me..." whispering as the air from her lung build. He walks over to her, gets close to her pussy. Just as he does, she lets out a loud scream, her back arches, lifting her hips off the bed, her hand deep inside her pussy. He can see her body begin to quiver. Her cum begins to dribble from between her fingers. Just as she launches her hips off the bed, he fires his cum. That large hot wad of his loins reaches her hands and pussy. She falls back to the bed, his cum is still pouring out of his cock. He too shivers and groans loudly. Each volley of cum lands on her pussy, her stomach, and her chest, even as far as her chin.
She still quivers and shakes as she tries to catch her breath. He keeps stroking himself, getting every last drop of cum on her belly.


They say nothing to each other. He stands looking at her naked on the bed. Her hand still inside her pussy, her juices still running over her fingers and inner thighs, his cum covering her hand, and belly. He walks over to her, leans towards her mouth. She takes her cum covered fingers and runs them over her lips. He kisses her, tasting her fresh, uncharted juices as well as his own. Slow and long, her toung slithers into his mouth. He returns with his own tongue gently brushing across her soft, vanilla flavored lips. He tries to savor her taste as long as he can. Sucking on them as if they where the last thing on earth. He walks out of the room, not waiting to wash him self up, grabbing the pair of cum stained panties she had in the bottom of her tote. Before he walks thru the door, he looks back at her still on the bed. "I will call you when we get back home." That was the last he ever saw of her, until a package arrived from a University across the country. He opens it to find a picture of herself, another pair of cum soaked panties and a new phone number. The note read, “Been thinking about you a lot,” He picks up the phone, dials the number, when a voice answers. “Hi Susan, it's me.”

Thank you.

I just wanted to thank you all for your kind words, thoughts and prayers over the last few days. It's going to be a long road ahead, dealing with my fathers passing, so don't be surprised to read a post of me venting away or remembering the time we did have together. I have already bent Bud's of "Us" ear abit. Sorry about that Bud, I just got caught up in the moment.

I will share this, as I did with Bud. I'm angry. I'm angry that my dad died. I'm angry that he never came clean about his "wife/GF" or his "other family". I'm angry that he did not prepare for his last days. I'm angry that these other people went about making all the final arrangements, and never once asked my brother, my sister or I for input. I'm angry that I will never be able to vent one last time to my dad for walking out on us, November of 1983. I'm just angry. And I know that is normal and one of the steps in dealing with death.

I hate to lose and death is nothing more than a big loss. It's like game 7 of the World Series. There is no tomorrow, and this one hurts. The way I see it, I've lost my dad three times. The first time when he left us, the second time was after his heart attack in 1998, and now. Please understand, I'm not trying to make my dad out to be a man who never saw his children or would not support them financially or emotionally. He was there when we asked him to be. He was there when we all graduated college, and when my sister got married and our birthdays and shit like that. He was with us on Christmas and spend the night at our mom's house. Mom would get a little pissed at first, but understood that dad was trying to make-up for what he fucked up on and was making an honest effort to spend time with us. That got me to wonder, what did he tell is "wife/GF" and his "other family" out the holidays? The same would go for New Years. He would spend the night at my mom's and go home the next day. Strange, huh.......

When he had his heart attack in May of 1998, my mother offered to have him come to her house, our house, so he could recuperate until he was able to go back to his place. It came to a point when my dad asked me to take him back to his place. I told him that he was not well enough to go back and that he needed to say here where I could make sure that he was eating right, taking his medication, and was being looked after. I just didn't know if "wife/GF" was able to do that for him. He insisted that he wanted to go home. So I packed up his shit, threw it in the car, helped him in my car and began to lecture him on what a big fucking mistake it was for him to go back. He was in no shape to go back, nor was the hospital any closer to him, than it was to my mom's house. I yelled at him. This fragile short man. I yelled at him. I felt so ashamed of my self for doing that. To this moment now, I hate my self for doing that. But I was angry. Angry that he was leaving again. Angry that he could not get it through his head that he was not well enough to go back home. Besides, there was drama at the hospital when he has his surgery.

His "other family" where there and wanted to see him as well. I told the charge nurse that I was his blood son, and these other people where not related to me. I wanted to be kept well informed of my father's condition at all times. It even got to the point where we had to slip time in my dad's room. The mornings for them, the afternoons and evenings for us. Again, not preparing for what might happen, did happen. Did he not stop to think that we would eventually see them, or meet them. What was he trying to hide? My brother, sister and I all knew what was going on. For fuck sakes, the "other" girls would call my sister and tell her that dad loved them more than her, and that's why he left us. What kind of crap is that.

I wonder now if they are hurting as much as we where that day in November. I wonder if it hurts them as much as it did us. That feeling of him leaving...again. I really hate feeling like this. All this anger. But I guess it's just a step towards putting things in perspective as well as regaining a normal way of life.


My next post will be my 50th here. I am writing a pretty good story about and older man and a younger women, so stay tuned.

Sad news.

My father passed away December 30th. Shortly after posting my previous notes of the Holiday. I was in shock as you can imagine, but more concerned over who was taking care of the arrangements.
My parents divorced over 15 years ago, and in that time my relationship with my father had it's good and bad. He apparently had another women on the side, one who my mother believes, he has been seeing even before my mom and dad where married. In any case, this women and her children (I don’t know if we are related, and could give a fuck) had already made arrangements for services with out the input of my sister, my brother or I.
In hindsight, mom tells me to think about it this way; we're off the hook. We don't have to go thru all that horrible mess. And not that this other family is of any help getting us the information about the rosary, Mass and burial. Being the Capricorn that I am, as well as the oldest, I have to be in control. So the fiancé and I have decided to use our college educated mines and worked backwards with the tiny bit of information we had.


My sister was on a flight here to So.Cal when I got the call. When she arrived at my mother’s house, I broke the news to her and her husband. Granted we are still in a bit of shock, but our lives with our father could have been better if he had been forthcoming about this other women. Not that we wanted to meet her and her children, but at least let us know that she was in his life. My brother commented that at least she was there when my father passed. And with all things considered, she did call one of us with this news. She could have just put my dad in the ground and that would be that.

Tonight is the rosary, and there is a good chance that I will be meeting these people for the first time. I know that my sister wants nothing to do with them at all. The thought of seeing them makes her sick. There is lots of drama there. I've heard thru my mom that one of the girls of this women, would call my sister and torment her, telling her that my dad loved them more than her. That she would never become anything in her life......sorry to say that my sister has a Maters from Harvard.... and works in D.C..........

My brother is a bit fragile right now and needs to have as much support around him. He is very intelligent and very active mind; it's just that his dyslexic gets in his way a bit. Of all he has been very rational about all of this. He agrees that after this point, there should be no contact with these people what so ever. If dad left be hind a will, them take his photo archives and leave everything else. We would be stronger buy taking less and giving up more. We've already had control taken from us, but what we've gained is the fact that we're humble.

As for me, I would like to think that my dad had no malice in doing what he did. We had talked a few years ago and he apologized to my sister, brother and I about what he had done. He wanted to take it all back it he could. I told him that he can't and needed to forgive himself for what he did. You can't live in the past. You will never make it into the future. I told him that he fucked up. He could have had everything and more. Instead, he got to see his three kids graduate college, from the sidelines. Don’t get me wrong, he was at all of our graduations, and proud of all of us, but I think deep down inside he missed being apart of our lives.

I will post in a few days, after I get a chance to settle back in to life.