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Bible Camp Babysitter - Day 01

By: TimSchmidt



"Don't worry, Susan," I assured her as she turned again at the bottom of the steps. "I've done this before, remember?"

She smiled uncertainly. "I am so grateful, Tim. This means so much to me. I know..." she trailed off but I knew what she was going to say and gave her a warm smile back. 

It had been six years since Catherine died. My wife, Catherine, who had been best friends with Susan since they'd met in grade school. Susan had been there our whole marriage, in and out of her own the first few years, she'd had her daughter Jessica three months after we'd had Mary. 

Over the years Mary and Jessica had, not surprisingly, also become best friends. They'd remained so even after Susan moved deeper into the city for a job, though they couldn't see each other as often. Likewise, deprived of their near-daily contact, Catherine and Susan had become more and more attached to their annual trip to a Women's Bible Camp upstate. It became a tradition for me to take a week off, watch Mary and Jessica, and let them go together to the camp. 

Susan was right. "Yes," I finished for her smoothly. "This is what Catherine would have wanted." It was always easier on her if I said it. We got along very well, and maintained an acquaintance through our daughters, but were both mindful of the loss we shared. She'd known her much longer, and I had married her.

"Believe me, I'm good," I said. "I've got some movies, a bunch of fun meals planned, I'll take them to the mall, we'll go ice skating, the time will fly."

"Thanks, Tim," she smiled as though she didn't fully believe me but was glad for me to give her the easy out. 

"Have a good time, get refreshed," I waved. She climbed into her car and backed out of the driveway. The truth was somewhere in the middle. I always seemed to have a good time bonding with the girls, but the time still managed to drag by, and sometimes I felt a little grumpy that I burned a whole week of vacation so someone else could go on vacation.

I turned and entered the already-boisterous house. "Kids just get louder each year," I murmured. I imagined that I needed to lean into the blare of noise coming from my daughter's room just to pass her half-open door. Jessica and Mary were sitting cross-legged on the bed, booting up Mary's laptop, adjusting the volume (upward) on her stereo, and jabbering at the top of their voices. Jess's duffel lay at the foot of the bed, already open as if the clothing and trinkets inside had burst out the moment she'd set it down. 

"And it does seem the years come quickly," I thought aloud, pausing at the door to let them see me. I waved from the hallway, somewhat unwilling to enter in case all the color, music, and cartoons of the room might alter my personality too much. They waved back absently and kept talking as Mary fiddled with the touchpad on her computer, loading something. 

"Funny to see them going on like they're still ten," I smiled. "They look like young women now." 

I guess it struck me like any regular, annual event, how much had changed over the last years. How much of it was the past twelve months I couldn't say, because sometimes it all seemed to blend together, but there was none of the tubular pre-teen look about them now. "They really are young women," I sighed. "I don't feel old enough to have a nineteen-year-old daughter." 

They were both graceful, had both filled out nicely with long, smooth legs, silky hair, and breasts that could no longer be called budding. Their clothing now snugged their hips, rather than being belted on in a utility fashion. They wore trendy shorts, attractive skirts, unusual tops, and the effect was no longer "adorable" but "alluring". Their bare feet had lost that cute-as-a-button look and were now as beautiful as the rest of them. I shook my head at the flashy belts, fuzzy tops, and barely functional sleepwear that spilled onto the floor. -- A few hours later, as I toweled my hands dry after washing up after dinner, I heard the patting of bare feet on the hardwood floor and some light giggling as they crossed the livingroom to the kitchen. "Daddy," Mary called as they entered, just loud enough that it sounded as though she felt she still needed to compete with the noise of her room. "What's on for tonight?"

I turned around nearly and dropped my towel. Mary and Jess stood in the archway to the livingroom in what I suppose they would call nightgowns but I would categorize firmly in the lingerie department. Light fabric, through which I could just see the girls' nubile outlines, poked forward and clung in all the right places. Most of their supple legs were exposed. Their nipples stood out sharply.

"I..." I stammered a moment. Some of my surprise must have shown on my face, for they both giggled, but stood their ground.

"We always start the week with a movie together," Jess pouted prettily. She could have no idea what that kind of pout did to a man, or could she? I thought I saw a mischievous glint in her eyes, but I was all too apt to be imagining it. I was a man of forty, almost forty-five. She was a girl of nineteen, about three months younger than my own daughter. I suppressed an angry thought about how teenage girls acted and projected themselves.

"Well, that's true," I gathered my wits as quickly as possible. "But we usually watched a kids movie and I wasn't sure if you were still into the idea."

"Very much!" Mary assured me with a grin.

"Only if it's a hot-chocolate, pajama-party," Jess said quickly. "I look forward to this for months!"

"It's a little cold, don't you think?" I suggested delicately.

"Oh, that's okay," Mary spun on the spot, her flimsy 'nightgown' flaring out. "I'll go get the giant blanket while Jess picks out a movie." She looked over her shoulder with a coyness that was supposed to remind me of when she was younger, with the imperiousness of a ten-year-old. "You make the hot chocolate daddy, then get into your pajama's too. That's the tradition."

"Right," I watched her go, suddenly worried how she could ever get through college without being trashed by some unwelcome sports squad. But I dutifully turned back around and got out a pot for my home-made hot chocolate. 

I had just pulled out the milk, some breaker chocolate, and turned on the heat when I felt arms around me from behind. "Thanks, Mr. Schmidt," Jessica said warmly, giving me a hug. "It's so nice to come here every year. It's..." but just what she was thinking I could only guess - if the faculty of thought had been left to me. Her voice trailed off, and she squeezed me affectionately.

I knew it was hard for her. Jessica's parents had undergone an ugly divorce and still fought furiously, and Jess was frequently in the middle. Neither parent was particularly wealthy - Jess's father drove trucks and was often on the road, and Susan was always searching for a job that would pay well - but usually ended up waiting tables or trying to keep up as an office assistant in a world of increasingly complex technology. I knew that my household was for Jess the same blissful, harmonious break from her tumultuous world that the bible camp - which we had covered for Susan while Catherine was alive, and I still gave to her as a gift - was for Susan. 

All these thoughts were there, somewhere in the fuzzy cloud of my head, as Jessica's hug lingered. She'd always been a hugger, at least in our household. I got the impression she hugged whoever she could because she got less affection than she should at home, and almost none from a disappointed father always on the long road. Try as I might, however, the sensation of her recently-filled-out breasts with their cold-hardened nipples dominated me. From the little girl I was used to had come this full-grown woman whose breasts pressed against me, further apart than I would have guessed, and far larger than I would have thought possible. 

"You're welcome, Jess," I managed, and patted her arm. "It's fun to have you over every year."

Mercifully, she let go and walked slowly back into the living room. I stole a very long glance at her, unable to keep my thoughts in check. Her bottom looked perfect under her narrow waist, almost completely visible through the lingerie. I could see the outline of her panties, though clearly no bra. Rounded at the hips, with her tapering legs, I nearly gasped, but managed to turn back around and force my mind back onto hot chocolate. -- Ninty minutes later I found myself huddled on the couch. Mugs emptied on the coffee table, long blanket bunched and swirled, I sat almost rigid, self-conscious in my pajamas - I rarely wore them. Mary had snuggled up under my left arm, curled against my body. Jess had snuggled up under my right arm, likewise curled, her breasts pressing heavily against my side, her right hand on my chest as she watched the movie. 

So many quality kids-oriented movies had come out lately, with just enough grown-up humor and appeal, that there had been a wide selection of innocent entertainment to watch. I was glad they hadn't chosen a "chick-flick" with lots of suggestive adult situations. I'm not sure I would have allowed us all to snuggle through it, and I admit I was enjoying the snuggle.

Over the next few minutes, the computer animated characters moved towards a sappy, happy conclusion after their adventures. I felt Mary nestle in closely, contact we were familiar with. Without Catherine, we'd had to get our hugs from each other, and we were modestly affectionate as a close father and daughter should be. 

Jessica, however, seemed about ready to cry with the characters, and squeezed me as if for strength, her fingers caressing my chest as if she were the cute heroine character in the movie consoling with her fellow adventurers.

I was immensely thankful that our positions kept my raging, throbbing hard-on hidden beneath the blankets and just far enough away from arms, legs, elbows, and hands that direct contact was avoided. I certainly didn't want to ruin the mood having an embarrassing moment, and as worked up as I was after an hour and a half snuggle with two achingly beautiful young girls, I was sure even the lightest touch would have had me ejaculating all over the inside of my pajamas.

The last frames faded out and the bouncy-happy end credit music began to play. Mary and Jess snuffled happily and nestled in even harder for a moment.

"Thanks dad," Mary kissed me on the cheek. "That's a great way to end a day. I think I want to watch a movie every night this week."

"There is a good selection," Jess took the liberty of mimicking Mary and kissed me on the other cheek. "It's funny because really we just sit here for a couple hours, but this is some of my favorite time all year. I'd love to watch a movie every night too, Mr. Schmidt." 

I hugged them back, trying to maintain that it was fatherly. "Well, we'll see," I said, avoiding commitment. I wasn't sure I could stand the torture. If I could go upstairs and vent some sexual tension with my wife, that might have been different, but I'm not sure what state I'd be in if I had to sit between two young goddesses for two hours every night. I thought my dick might actually explode out of revenge. It had been years since my last regular lover. "Off to bed with you, and we'll hit up the mall tomorrow, like I promised."

"How about you," Mary asked, extricating herself from the blanket. She took her body heat with her and I nearly shivered. Her 'nightgown' was askew, accenting her figure even more. "Are you going to sleep now too?"

"No," I said, unwinding from an almost-purring Jess. "I have a few things to work on in the den. I rarely get to bed before midnight."

"Okay," Mary yawned, stretching in an unconsciously unfair way. "Goodnight dad." She kissed me again and started for the stairs. 

"Goodnight, Mr. Schmidt," Jess kissed me again too, and turned to follow Mary. Her lingerie had caught in her panties as she sat curled on the couch, leaving most of her beautiful butt exposed. I didn't bother embarrassing her by pointing it out, I simply stared, helpless, and pretended to go about shutting down the movie. Without even trying, the way she climbed the stairs in her semi-sleepy, barefoot way was as seductive as if she were a professional runway model or glamour star. -- At eleven-thirty, unable to concentrate, I'd abandoned my den and computer and made my way upstairs. I passed Mary's room quietly, pajama collar awry, slippers whispering against the carpet. The dim light from the hallway showed the door to be ajar, and quiet blackness within. "That's a mercy," I grumbled. In past years it might be two or three in the morning before they wore each other out talking. 

I made my way into my room, got ready for bed, clicked out the lights, and stripped down. The bed was cold, but smooth, and I could feel my own body heat, egged on by my fast-beating heart, already warming the covers. 

It took what seemed a long time to finally fall asleep. Images and impressions of my past sexual relationship with Cathrine flooded my mind, and my blood refused to cool. There was no doubt I missed her in many ways. I'd learned to live with the gigantic hole over the last six years, but it didn't seem like the kind of thing that would ever actually fill. 

Tossing and twisting with restless mind and unnerved body, I kept replaying the full, satisfying sex life I'd had, and how empty it was now. It wasn't like that's all our relationship had been, but when my heat was up, it was only natural that I couldn't get it out of my mind. Eventually, inactivity and the inability to maintain an erection for eternity conspired to dim my consciousness and I drifted off. -- "Mr. Schmidt?" I awoke not quite with a startle, nor with the slow climb upward from deep sleep, but with a regular awareness blooming in the darkness. I shifted. The clock read one-thirty in the morning. I looked towards the door.

"Mr. Schmidt?" Jess whispered again. Her outline was silhouetted in the dim light from the hallway. From this perspective her nightgown seemed much more appropriate - a more blocky shape that still showed she was a pretty girl, but not so seductive.

'Now where did that thought come from?' I asked myself, still groggy but with some realization that I'd been very horny lately. 

"Yes? Jess?" I said fuzzily, almost fully awake.

"Can I come in?" she whispered back. There was a catch in her voice as though her heart beat too fast for her to speak normally. There was a pause while the idea stole through me with some sort of icy nervousness.

"Are you okay?" I asked, shifting again to sit up on one elbow. I realized I was completely naked under the covers, but in the darkness and with all this bedding around me, she shouldn't be able to tell. 

"I think so," she whispered, taking a tentative step into the room. "I had a bad dream, and I'm a little shaky. I..." she faltered. 

"Come in," I said as gently as I could. I clicked on my bedside light, the first setting dim enough to allow reading without glaring off the walls.

The illusion of the appropriate nightgown disappeared, dispelled by the light. Crumpled a little by sleep, it clung to her body, and perhaps without so much light to reflect off the material, her breasts were clearly visible beneath. She flitted the few steps from the door to the bed and sat down on the edge. Whether from her sudden movement or urged by her arm I couldn't tell, but the bedroom door swung so that the latch clicked gently against the stop - though it didn't close. 

I was too aware of her proximity to pay enough attention to, or react to, the door. She'd sat down so that one leg curled up on the bed, the other hung over the side, her right hip almost touching my thigh. The covers rippled against me and in an absurd panic I thought they might slide off - despite the several feet of fabric spread out in every direction. I covered the motion by trying to sit up a little more, pluffing my pillows against the headboard, and leaning against them.

"What's up, Jess?" I asked, trying to mask the thudding of my own heart.

"I just..." she began, but trailed off and looked down at her hands in her lap. "I just need to talk to you a little, is that okay?"

"You're always welcome to talk to me, Jess," I assured her.

I couldn't help myself. I could tell anyone she was my daughter's friend and it was a fatherly gesture, but I reached out and brushed her hair off her shoulder, then gave it an affectionate squeeze. 

She looked up at me with enormously wide eyes, as though afraid, but didn't say anything, and seemed to have frozen herself in place so as not to disturb her shoulder.

"It does seem unusual to speak to me at one in the morning," I tried to sound casual about it.

"It's the only time," she looked over her shoulder suddenly, at the door, and the movement pulled her body just far enough that my hand fell away. "That I thought we could talk alone."

"Oh," I said, trying to sound like the family doctor. "You wanted to talk about Mary?"

"No," she sounded breathless. "More - without her."

"Very well," I said, trying to figure out if I could rest my hand on her leg without giving myself away. I decided against it, but kept the thought clearly in mind as my penis stirred, thickening.

"It's so nice," she started, stammering down into her lap again, the words starting to come out in a whispered rush. "I mean, my dad isn't around a lot. Well, okay, he's not around at all, and I don't really like how grumpy he is whenever I do see him, and it was so nice to just sit with you on the couch, snuggled under a blanket. It's like what I guess I dream it should be like to have a real family. I've obviously heard all about the father-figure concept, and I don't want to put any extra pressure on you and all, but ... it's just so nice to have a man to cling to once in a while."

She took a quick breath, and plowed on, her eyes now on her bare knee. "I mean, I've obviously been around boys at school, and it's exciting and fun to be near them and touching too - you know like holding hands or holding on to their arm when they're talking and laughing with each other - but it's so different with a... I don't know, a real man?" 

Jess looked up a little more, her eyes on my exposed nipples. "I mean, they're real, but they're so unstable, so unsure themselves - I can feel how insecure they are and how volatile, how likely they are to do something stupid just as easily, or more easily, than something good. They're all trying to be cool because they don't know their place yet, and they just make all these blunders. Boys try to touch me back, of course, and it's very exciting, but it's also alarming and they don't always seem to know what they're doing. It often hurts or doesn't feel good other than the fact that it's just fun to be touched - like someone thinks I'm beautiful, or even can't help themselves."

Now her eyes came up to my face, but she seemed unable to look directly into my eyes. Her own eyes were dilated, and I could see her trembling. "But when you hug me, or hold me, or just let me sit against you, it feels so comfortable, so warm, so soothing..." she broke off, licked her quivering lips, and looked into my eyes. I was incapable of looking away, saying anything, even moving. 

"I'm so confused," she said quickly. "I don't have a dad to talk to about all this. I've tried to talk to mom about it, but she gets all flustered and goes off on all the wrong tangents. Things were so bad between her and dad, and I never really saw them comfort each other, but I have these powerful urges..."

She took a shallow breath as if it were a long one, and when she spoke again it sounded as if she were already out of breath again. "Half of it is the fantasy - sometimes overpowering - of being held, just held by big, strong arms. Knowing they're there for me, to protect me, to keep me warm, and... and..." She seemed unable to continue, and tears filled her eyes.


Bible Camp Babysitter - Day 01



Out of instinct I leaned forward with my arms out and pulled her towards me. She rested her flowing, dark-blond hair against my chest and shook with a couple sobs, leaning into me gratefully. "There, there" I said softly, unsure what else to say and speaking on instinct. My heart hammered, but more gently now. The stirring in my loins subsided somewhat. This explained things and gave me a way out. An enormous part of me didn't want that way out, but another part of me beat down resentment and felt relieved. "I'll be glad to talk to you. I know things are hard for you, Jess. It may be awkward, but of course I'll help you."

She snuffled twice, rubbed her head against me, and sat up as I released her. "Do you have a tissue?" she asked, smiling weakly. Her eyes were still wide, and her hair more tousled now.

"Yes," I gestured to the dresser. 

She got up, and for a few glorious moments stood at the dresser with her nightgown caught atop her hips, her entire bottom and long, luscious legs completely exposed. She blew her nose and brought an extra tissue back. She settled into almost exactly the same position she'd just left. The cold night air nipped at my exposed skin and a part of me wondered how she couldn't be covered in goose bumps. 

"I'm sorry," she said, leaning forward to lay the tissues next to my clock. 

"Don't worry," I assured her. 

"No," she said, almost cutting me off. "It's more than that. There's the other half. The half that... that..." 

I thought crying might release some of her tension, but she looked every bit as nervous. She fidgeted jerkily, twisting her fingers together, working her lips, looking back down into her lap.

"What is it, Jess?" I asked. I did everything I could to sound patient and warm, though I was in truth feeling hot and impatient. I had to get her out of my room, and soon. 

"I am sometimes filled with the urge..." she began, half-turning and almost un-knotting her fingers, but she stopped, dropped her hands onto her thigh, and slumped again. 

I shifted and opened my mouth, but she shook her head, her long hair cascading around her shoulders, so I said nothing and waited in agony. Surely hell was no worse than this. At this point I'd take a lake of fire over sitting in my bed with a building erection, the very vision of young beauty inches away but needing my help - not even able to explain what she wanted. I really didn't want to snap at her, it might hurt her in emotional ways beyond an interrupted talk, but my physical frustration was mounting.

"I..." she began again, though she didn't move this time. She just looked miserably at her hands and the foot she'd nearly tucked up against her crotch. "... the urge to keep - or to do ..."

Unwilling to think too much about what might be bothering her, sure that I would only tighten the straps of my own internal torture, I hesitated a little longer, unsure what to do. The long moments crawled by. I could see the heavy, thunderous beating of her heart in her beautiful neck, could feel it in my own. At last she shivered slightly. It really was cold and she wasn't wearing enough to stay warm even on a summer's night.

"To do something," she wasn't panting, wasn't gasping, but her breath came in short gulps anyway. It sounded as though some of her words were missing, carved out when the lines on her throat stood out when she tried to breathe in. "Something to keep... something to attract... maybe to earn? ... those arms..."

I almost said something when she started to move.

Jessica slid smoothly off the bed onto her feet, a very slow, determined motion as though she moved through thick sludge rather than crisp air. With the same, excruciating slowness she turned towards me, and bent towards the edge of the bed. "I'm so afraid," she whispered, and her eyes showed it. Not so much a terror, but a pervading fear. I felt rooted to the spot. What was she going to admit? Was someone assaulting her? I'd just spent a whole evening in close proximity to her near naked body and felt sure she had no bruises. Her arms worked at the edge of the bed but I was incapable of paying attention to anything besides her wide eyes, locked onto mine. 

"I'm so afraid," she murmured again, but continued. "That you'll reject me." Her eyes went from fear to pleading, and I realized what she'd done was to lift the covers. She climbed gracefully into the bed. "Please," she whispered huskily, urgently. "Please don't reject me."

She was under the sheets and blanket now, sliding closer, her face so close to mine that her breath tickled against my chin. "Please don't reject me," she begged. "I need this. I need this so badly," and she'd moved so close that her lips brushed against mine in a questing, desperately light kiss. 

Correctly interpreting my complete inability to stop her, her eyes fluttered closed and she pressed her lips more insistently against mine. Her arm stole over my side, and she moved one leg forward, over my own, so that the cold, cold skin of her thigh and calf, her beautiful foot, caressed me. 

She sobbed again, a sob of aching desire and flooding relief. "Ohhhh," she whispered throatily, her lips still grazing mine. "Ohhhh," unable to articulate further. I caressed her hip, running my hand over the back of her chilly, perfectly rounded buttocks, up the narrow small of her back, under her nightgown. She writhed slowly, sinuously, as my fingers traced a path, each motion gently easing the nightgown out of the way, exposing more of her delicious, cool skin.

"So warm," she murmured, still kissing me. "So warm." Her slow, wriggling motion continued as my fingertips reached her ass again, and I hooked them into her panties. She arched her back, the motion itself helping to pull the underwear down, and with practiced movements I helped them over her seductive roundness.

A tumbled, jumbled mixture fogged my brain. The fresh, real presence of this beautiful girl I'd never held before juxtaposed over the time-altered memories of my own lost lover. Part of me felt this was exactly how Catherine had felt, even though she'd been well past nineteen the last time I'd been able to hold her like this. The heady impossibility of where I was, the time of night, the considerable passion stirred in my own blood, all colluded to cloud my perceptions, to obfuscate my reactions. I was so hungry for the contact myself, I'd not realized how long the need had been building up.

"So warm," she whispered again, this time on her back as she bent her legs to get the panties off her beautiful feet, her eyes closed in ecstasy. "Feed me your warmth."

She turned right back to me, her gown and underwear lost in the tangle of sheets, and melded her lithe body against mine, determined to press as much skin together as possible, her arms tight around my chest. I reciprocated, holding her as tight and close as I dared. I could feel how it squeezed her breathless, but she clutched even tighter instead of trying to loosen her grip.

My penis pressed hard against her pelvis, tingling in anticipation. I could feel her pubic hair tickling the bottom of my shaft, and her unnatural, moist heat against my balls. "Oh," she gasped, almost quaking, "my god..." and was unable to articulate further. 

Jessica clung to me for several moments, then without relaxing her grip kissed my chin, my jaw, my neck. "This is..." she breathed, licking my neck and kissing it again. "So much better..." she strained as if to reach and kiss my ear. "Than I dreamed..."

I couldn't hold back any longer and rolled her onto her back. Instinctively she spread her legs, pulling her knees up gently. "Oh my god," she repeated in a hoarse whisper. "Oh my god..."

Jessica released her frantic hug as I pushed myself up on my hands, and I saw her open her eyes and look down. Her hands ran down my sides, sending shivers back up, and rested at my hips. The shaft of my penis rested between her slick pussy lips. She shuddered. I moved gently up and down, rubbing the length of my cock against her clitoris. Beyond speech, her fingers gripped me like urgent claws, and she arched her back as I rubbed back down, lining everything up for penetration.

Again I hesitated, concerned that she was probably a virgin and unprepared for the pain that would follow, but she whimpered and pressed herself upward as if to eat my penis with her vagina. The soft, wet heat drove everything else from my mind and I entered her as gently as I could. "Ohhhhhhh," she moaned throatily, slowly rolling her head back, her eyes wide open though unfocused. 

I met none of the resistance I expected, nor did she flinch in pain. I pushed deeper, my own lust to bury myself within her barely kept in check. She felt tight, eager, fresh, and spread her legs wider as I went. When at last I was completely inside, I felt her wrap her hands across the bottom of my back to hold me in place. I stayed still, feeling her entire body tremble, watched her eyes dilate wide, her nipples hard and dark, and felt her vagina pulse powerfully - once, twice, three times - then with a few shuddering aftershocks. Each grip sent waves of ecstasy through me, and I was dimly aware of being surprised I could keep from my own orgasm. 

A few seconds later, as Jessica stopped pulsing, I began to move, gently but firmly, in and out. I lowered my body enough to feel her breasts against me, see the trance-like set of her eyes, feel her gasping breath. Transported, unable to believe my situation, I thrust just a little deeper, just a little faster, and felt the hot flood build through me. In a tremendous rush, I stopped as deep as I could get and came spectacularly, shuddering with my own orgasm. Jess let out tiny, whispered yelps of pleasure.

Slowly, panting, Jessica's eyes returned into focus and she relaxed beneath me. Her beautiful face looked at mine, only inches apart. I leaned down and kissed her - long, slow, but with pressure. I could feel the stiffness easing out of my penis. 

"Thank you, Mr. Schmidt," she breathed, her eyes closed to savor the moment. "I think, if I may, I want to sleep here for an hour or so, in your warmth, then I'll sneak back to Mary's room."

I could not have denied her. 



Bible Camp Babysitter - Day 02



I followed Mary and Jessica through the mall, feeling like the tag-along chauffeur, and doing everything I could to reinforce that image. I hung out just outside whatever store they entered, leaned against the handrail when there was one, and tried desperately to look bored. 

In truth, my mind was very agreeably engaged. The two friends had dressed nicely. Dark tights disappeared into stylish boots, and beneath skirts not quite short enough to be saucy. Fuzzy sweaters with chunky collars did more to promote their warm breasts than to hide them, yet showed no excessive skin. Their hair was loose for warmth, and danced around their laughing faces. 

By hanging out like the bored parent cajoled into driving, I could stare into the store. I had to be careful to keep my face relaxed and disinterested, but I could feast my eyes. Jessica clearly understood what I was doing, and did what she could to stay visible, prancing between racks, arching unnecessarily to reach something, bending over instead of crouching when looking for something on a low shelf. Every once in a while she'd throw me a glance with eyes on fire, but she was careful to keep them short, and to make sure nobody was looking at her when she did. 

Mary seemed blissfully oblivious to what had happened the previous night. Doubtless to her it just seemed that everyone was in a good mood or catching the holiday spirit. She tended to expect that I had little interest in spending a whole week with her and her friend. In truth, they might have been right in years gone by. Sure, I enjoyed bonding with my daughter, and Jessica had been her best friend since birth. Sure, it was fun to give them the treat of a relaxed schedule with good food. But as to my own activities under those circumstances, interruptions were frequent, and riding my motorcycle was only an option once they were old enough to watch themselves for a few hours. 

I hadn't exactly been looking forward to watching the girls when Susan left for her annual Women's Bible Camp - a week long tradition she'd started when my wife Catherine was still alive. But I hadn't exactly been dreading it either.

Yesterday, minutes after Susan had driven away, I had noticed she had left a woman behind. No longer could our daughters be called kids. These girls were physically mature. It had been a real shock. At first one that made me feel older - after all Mary was nineteen, so I could hardly be in my own twenties any more. But then Jessica had turned up in my bedroom in the middle of the night, desperately hungry, and ever since I'd felt more like a teenager myself.

"It didn't hurt?" I'd asked when she prepared to leave my room just before four AM. "I was really concerned."

"Oh," Jessica laughed lightly, no louder than a whisper, pulling her panties back on. "I read about that. While I've never had a true man before, I admit I've been playing with toys for more than a year. At first nothing more than what I could sneak into my room, but I saved up my pocket money for a few months and bought, well..." she trailed off. I could tell she was blushing - surprised by how easily she talked about it all.

"Jessica," I said, but she seemed to read the tone of my voice.

"Don't worry, Mr. Schmidt," she interrupted, wiggling a little to settle her nightgown into place. "I know you don't think it was right, that you did something horrible. But I'm a legal adult now, and it was important to me."

Jessica sat on the side of the bed again, just as she had when she first came into the room, and continued in a breathy whisper. "I've had a long time to think about this," she admitted. "I dreamed about it a lot when I came over last year. I've wanted to for ages. I only just worked up the nerve, and almost didn't even then."

"I still don't..."

She reached out and touched my lips with her finger, an endearing gesture she'd done all her life. Of course it felt different after glorious sex and sleeping together, but it also felt familiar, and I let her silence me again.

"I've thought about this for years," she murmured. "At least since I was sixteen. Like I said earlier - I like boys my own age, of course I do. A few of them are fun, most of them are good looking. Many of them have asked me out or made a pass at me. I've been to parties, and I've been touched a lot. But most of them are clumsy, and somehow too rough. And though lots of them are strong and even graceful in sports, I knew I needed something else. At least at first."

She took a breath, and looked away, hugging her arms around her stomach. "For my first few times, I wanted someone who knew what he was doing, someone bigger and fuller than the boys I know. Someone I knew I could trust, who would let me dictate the pace, or would know when to take over without being told. And, of course, someone who can't get me pregnant."

"How do you know that?" I asked incredulously.

"Oh, girls talk about this stuff once in a while, you know," she grinned. "I asked my mom, or my friends, how it is that parents seem to stop having children as they get older. I learned about contraception and everything, and I found a tactful way to find out from Mary - a long time ago really - that you'd had a vasectomy." Her grin was a little apologetic. "I really have been planning this for years. I can't believe the time finally came. And it really was everything I hoped for. You were like a powerful angel wrapping me up in his wings."

She let out a short, quiet laugh. "I bet that sounds all poetic. But I can't tell you how much it means to me that you didn't send me away."

I remained quiet, but she must have found what she was looking for in my face, for she beamed at me. "Listen, I know I can't have you forever. It must seem like a schoolgirl crush to you. And in a very real way I suppose it is. But I want you for the week. I'll be as discrete as I possibly can. I'll not give us away during the day, and I've been sleeping over with Mary forever. She almost never wakes up, and I even told her that sometimes I sleepwalk, or move to the couch for a few hours, like it's a quirk of mine. I'll be quiet, I'll sneak in well after she's asleep, and I'll get back before she wakes up."

She and Mary bounced out of the bath accessories shop, arm-in-arm, giggling. Mary had a small parcel that doubtless smelled wonderful. They went all of ten feet and turned into the next door - to a clothing shop. They spent an inordinate amount of time inspecting the fashions. Under normal circumstances this might have driven me to the electronics shop around the corner - or simply back to the truck to doze and wait - but Jessica made it a point to display all manner of leather, from jackets to pants to armbands, in such a way that I could see her clearly from the front of the shop and she could pretend her nervous excitement was from sharing daring fashion with her friend instead of showing it off to me. -- Hours later, after a long shopping trip - during which I had been thick and throbbing most of the time - I'd once again fed them a nice dinner and we'd settled in to change our pajama-movie tradition. No longer was it merely opening night, it was to be every night. I got a small fire going on the grate and Jessica picked a different kid's flick. 

Whereas last night's movie built to a thickly sappy ending full of teary emotions, tonight she'd chosen something much more upbeat and fun. We all sat up a little straighter under the blanket, not so much snuggled in close, but I still had my arms along the back of the sofa. Mary sat up, smiling and laughing in all the right places. Jessica likewise had not nestled in under my shoulder, but like Mary was still pressed against my side. 

I lost track of the film about 45 minutes in, when Jessica's hand shifted to my leg. I could feel the heat from her palm through my pajamas, the trembling vibrations of her body against mine. Her laughter was a little too loud, her reactions slightly overdone out of nerves, but not so much that Mary paid her much attention.

With deliberation, Jessica's hand worked its way up my leg, and as it approached I became stiffer. Due to the set of the fabric my dick couldn't stand up straight, but by the time her questing fingers found it, there was no mistaking what it was or how it felt about the contact. 

For the remainder of the film Jessica traced her fingers around the bulge in my pajamas, occasionally wrapping her fingers around the shape as well as she could. Unfortunately, she had almost no experience with real penises, aside from last night, and didn't let up until the closing credits. Therefore when she pulled her hands out of the blanket to clap with Mary, I was still rock hard with no signs of letting up soon.

I made a big show of bundling up the blanket and carrying it away while Mary and Jessica reset the electronics and jabbered happily. I smiled as I carried the blanket to the den. I would spend some time on the computer, writing a little, playing a game or two, and head up to bed around eleven. A little early for me perhaps, but I was tired. I hadn't had a full eight hours the night before. -- In truth I made it to midnight. Sometimes the words flow effortlessly, and sometimes everything goes right in the game, and it's hard to find a good stopping point. 

I yawned, locking doors and turning off lights as I worked my way through the house. I listened carefully as I passed Mary's room and could hear soft breathing. 'Soon enough, old boy,' I thought to myself. 'Be patient, and try to catch an hour or two sleep yourself.'

I entered my room with another yawn, scratched absently at the back of my head, and stopped dead. Jessica grinned back at me from my pillow, her beautiful fingers curled over the comforter, illuminated by the light from the hall.

"Mary's asleep," she whispered. "Been out since ten-thirty, but I only just came in myself. I wanted to make sure. And I tried to get in a nap. I don't want to give us away by being too tired during the day."

"Clever girl," I allowed, frozen in the doorway.

"Close the door all the way this time," she instructed.

I hesitated.

"Please, Mr. Schmidt," Jessica whispered again. "Close the door. I want to have a better light on. I'll be good and quiet."

I complied, shutting the door carefully. Jessica turned on my bedside light as I did, but turned it to a higher setting. One that bathed the bed in warm light, and illuminated the rest of the room dimly. 

"Come over here," she whispered, sliding a little to the center of the bed. "It's cold."

In a little bit of a daze, I crossed the room, pulling off my pajama shirt.

"No, not yet," she instructed when I reached next for my waistband. "I have something specific in mind."

I reached the bed and she folded back the comforter. 

It was indeed cold. Her nipples stood firm, her breasts ripe, her skin glowing in the light. She had completely disrobed.

"Here, prop up like you were last night, slouched while we talked," she whispered. 

As though drugged, and perhaps I was on her youth and beauty, I obeyed. 

"Just like that," she hummed, her eyed glued to the bulge that had returned to my pajama pants. I was half reclined, my legs under the covers, my chest exposed to the cool air. I had set the heater warmer than the night before, but it was still chilly. Jessica pulled the comforter back over her shoulder and hip. "Just let me explore," she implored, her delicate fingers reaching out.

For some time she traced and retraced the contours of my penis through my pajamas. She'd adjust me once in a while, or tuck the fabric around in order to make everything stand out. Her breathing deepened. I couldn't see her face, but rather a beautiful spread of her golden hair, but I could see her fingers as she savored the moment.

'This is also hell,' I thought to myself, remembering my preference for the lake of fire the night before. 'But a hell so sweet, so delicious, so captivating. A hell of tantalizing wait rather than tortured, uncertain desire.'

I felt she couldn't go much longer or I would cum all over my leg and the inside of my pajamas. I was on the verge of saying something, for no matter how I fooled myself, I knew how my orgasms went. My heat and horniness drained out with my fluids. 'I bet she could keep me interested,' I admitted. But I didn't know what her expectations were for the full evening, and I was sure I couldn't handle more than a second orgasm before feeling forced.

Twice, three times I took a breath intending to ask her to stop, only to hesitate, aswim in the pleasure of her delighted touches. Before I could try again, she shifted. 

Giving me much needed relief, Jess ran her hand up my side, through the hair on my chest, and back down over my stomach. There her fingers slipped under the band of my pajamas, then back and forth as if to loosen it. She then pulled her hand back out and smoothed down the top of my pajamas and worked her fingers into the fly flap, undoing the solitary button. I'd been trapped at an awkward, downward angle, both by the fabric and her touches, but she grasped my shaft and eased me back out of the hole.

For a moment I simply relished the sensation of being free of the trappings, in the cool, open air, with her fingers wrapped tightly around me. Then I realized she'd been still for several seconds, staring at it. I lay still, except for the occasional twitch, and was, in any case, incapable of speech just then.

"It's so interestingly shaped," she purred, and aimed it upward. "But I expected more hair."

"Why do you say that?" I asked, my voice cracking as though I'd spent days in the desert without a drink.

"Mostly because I had a lot of hair down there I guess. But I think I'd heard some girls talking about it. I didn't know what to expect but I think I believed them."

"Many men are very hairy down there," I confirmed. "I myself would be hairier than this, but I shave it down to what you see."

"Why do you do that?" she asked, looking at the small, trapezoidal patch of hair I kept trim but didn't eliminate.

"At first it was because my pubic hair interfered with my wife's attentions," I admitted. "So I did it for her, but I found I really like it better this way, so have kept myself shaven."

"Oh." After a moments more inspection, she shifted up onto an elbow, the blanket falling off her beautiful shoulder, exposing a wide stretch of the white-tan skin of her back. She sat all the way up, hunched over my penis so that her breasts swayed slightly with her movements. Using both hands now, she held me in one hand, and traced the contours of my head with a fingertip. Her manipulations to see all sides of my penis felt like long-needed stretching and I moaned softly with pleasure.

"Is that uncomfortable?" she asked.

"Quite the opposite," I assured her breathlessly. "It feels wonderful."

"I'm so afraid of hurting you," she admitted, still curled so she could look closely at my penis. Indeed her touch continued to be soft, silky.

"I doubt," I managed, almost panting. "You could squeeze - hard enough - to hurt me. Even - with both - hands together."

"You're kidding," she breathed back, hesitating.

"And you can point me - in any direction, - even straight down. It won't - hurt. It will just - feel good."

She obliged, testing. She wrapped her left hand above her right, slowly increasing pressure until I could feel her shaking. I let out a long, luxurious breath. The sound convinced her. She squeezed again, as hard as she could. Then she wrapped both hands on top of each other, squeezing as hard as she could. I simply moaned again. 

Jessica giggled, forcing me downward, then to the sides, and experimented with bending and squeezing. "I admit, last night, I was not prepared for the size of a penis," she said. I couldn't tell if her voice was playful or if I just relished hearing her say the words so much I added whatever inflection I wanted. "I'd never seen a real one. At first I thought they'd be the same size as a tampon. I mean, those are easy to find and use. They seemed to fit. But then my toys disabused me of that. I never bought anything very adventurous. Just a standard dildo. I didn't have a lot of money."

Jessica stopped squeezing and went back to tracing me with one finger while she held me upward with the other hand. "It was larger than a tampon, of course. But it was not nearly as big as this, nor did it have this bigger shape at the top. Are all penises this size?"

"They're different - sizes," I managed. "Surely you've - heard jokes - or something..." I was having trouble holding my voice together.

"Well, they're just jokes. I never knew for sure," she admitted. "I think most girls who tell jokes have no idea what they're talking about. It's the ones that don't joke or talk about it that really know."

"I'm average sized," I told her after a pause. "But you - make me feel - enormous."

"Is that good?" she asked, as if worried she'd just called me fat.

"Ohhh yeah," I breathed. "We all want - to feel huge - and satisfying."

"It was satisfying last night," she assured me, leaning down closer. 

"I have the strangest urge," she whispered. I could feel her breath, hear her heartbeats accenting her words. "To put you - in my mouth."

She took her finger away and tentatively touched the tip of my head with her tongue. I held my breath, hardly daring to think, trying desperately to stay still and not thrust myself upward savagely. My whole body screamed to be slathered, to be covered in slick, silky warmth with the soft bite of teeth. 

She licked me slowly, gently again, then lowered her head a touch further and kissed the very end of my dick. Her lips felt so soft and hot and my body felt on fire despite the cold, night air. 

Slowly, gently, but deliberately she kissed me again and again, then started to work the kiss downward, opening her mouth to accept me in. One kiss at a time, moving forward less than the width of her own lips, she worked onward. One of the mind-numbing kisses found my head completely within her lips. I could feel the gentle brush of her teeth against the top of my head, and her tongue writhing slowly between the folds at the bottom. 

She continued to kiss downward, taking a little more each time until she couldn't fit any more. There she stayed, working the flat width of her tongue against the bottom-side of the shaft of my penis, chewing ever so slightly with her sharp teeth. 

"I'm going to cum," I whispered urgently, feeling the first hints of that hot, tingling rush.

Whether she didn't know the ramifications of what that meant, or intended to hold her mouth in place, I contracted, convulsed, and gritted my teeth with all my power to keep from bellowing in ecstasy - a sound that might have brought the neighbors, and for sure my daughter two doors away.

Jessica made a strange sound as though she'd coughed twice with her mouth completely full, and I could feel her hands and mouth working uncertainly. My semen shot out and spilled around my penis, increasing the velvety warmth, but making me immediately self-conscious. She stayed still a moment longer, as if trying to gauge what to do, then carefully lifted her head off my cock. 

"Oh my gosh," she giggled quietly. "I didn't expect that!"

"I tried - to warn you," I whispered apologetically, and my penis jumped with an after-shock. 

"It's so salty and warm," she said, wiping her lips and looking down. "I mean, of course that's what was going to happen. I mean, it happened last night too - didn't it. But I guess I hadn't put it all together."

"I'm sorry," I offered.

"No, no," she looked up at me, her lips and chin tantalizingly glazed. "I'm here to experiment and learn. That was perfect! I'm not saying I like the flavor, but then I'm not exactly saying I don't, either. It's just - new and unusual."




Bible Camp Babysitter - Day 02



"There's a cloth there," I gestured weakly next to my alarm clock. "I got a few in case..."

"Very thoughtful," I thought she almost giggled again. 

"You can pass me one, I'll get cleaned up."

"No, no," she repeated, her lithe body uncoiling as she climbed off the bed. "I want to do it. Everything - every part of this is fascinating and fun for me."

"I don't deserve this," I muttered weakly. "I can't believe this."

"Mmmmm," she hummed, wiping her mouth as she returned to mop me up. "Perhaps you just don't realize how nice it is for me to be introduced to all this in such a peaceful, loving manner. I'm so glad I'm learning with you. I can just picture being traumatized by some brutish guy."

I watched her gorgeous face as her eyes feasted upon my penis while she cleaned me. There was no faking that look, she was delighted, she was hungry, and she was just getting started. I noticed, to no surprise, that her continued attentions did what so very rarely happened - I stayed not only full and partially erect, but delightfully hungry enough to indulge her again.

Jessica climbed off the bed and crossed the room, her lithe body taut with the chill, her normally graceful movements a little stiff with nerves. I lay there, admiring her shapely curves, the supple, fresh flesh, the glow of her excitement. She discarded the cloth in the hamper, and it occurred to me a little odd that she knew exactly where to go, but before I could think too much about that she turned around and walked slowly back.

Her eyes were still wide with anticipation, her breasts swayed tantalizingly with her footsteps. Her eyes locked onto my penis and never strayed. 

'My god,' I thought helplessly. 'She could probably keep me hard just staring at me like that.' And that, I was sure, was the key to the allure of youth. My resistance, my will had been overwhelmed by the pervading pleasure of being there as she unwrapped each new present, explored each new experience - and being the very object of her fresh, curious, delighted desire. 

She climbed back onto the bed near my knees and stayed on all fours. The arch of her back and the raised roundness of her ass filled my vision. "Mmmmmm," she hummed, crawling a little further and lowering her chest a little further. Her soft breasts hung on either side of my penis. As she swayed a little, they bumped against it, cool to the touch and heavy enough to send a thrill through my body. Even so I could focus on nothing but the wide arcs of her buttocks raised up behind the mane of untidy blond hair, even as she slowly pressed herself downward. 

Pulling her arms in tight against me, she hugged me close, her chin pressing just below my wishbone, her breasts squashed hard around me. She sighed, and for a few full minutes did little but rub her body very gently against mine. At some point she shifted her knees and began to spread them apart. Her right knee pushed my left leg outward, her right knee - already outside my other leg - stretched closer and closer to the edge of the bed. The contours of her young ass changed, always delicious, always distracting, until her hot, soaked pussy lips connected with my right knee.

Still trapping my penis between her lovely breasts, holding me firmly in place with her arms, Jessica pressed herself hard against my knee. By reflex I pressed up into her, heard her moan, and felt her start to wriggle slowly. The minutes thudded past as she humped my knee, her chin pressed against the top of my stomach so I could look down into her incredible face. Her eyes were closed now, her mouth slightly open, the expression so uplifted with pleasure I ached to keep her that way forever.

Eventually Jessica's face lowered, her arms relaxed for a moment, and her movements slowed. She panted for a moment, then lifted herself off my body. Her head lowered further, and I was sure she'd locked her eyes on my penis again. She crawled into position, then pushed herself upright.

Her legs now straddling mine, Jessica sank down until her hot, soaked pussy likewise saddled my shaft. She rubbed up and down a few times as though wetting my cock with her juices, then settled back a touch with her pussy lips glistening my balls. She took my penis in one hand and lifted it upward, holding it angled as if it was her own, and traced it some more.

Finally she leaned forward, lifted herself up, and guided me in. Slowly, achingly slowly she lowered herself. In silence she hesitated frequently, but I could not see her face, for she looked down at our contact. Once she'd engulfed half my length, she moved up and down slightly, as though adjusting. I could hear her heavy breathing now, and watched as her breasts swayed with the slow motion. 

After about ten mini-pumps, she reached forward with both hands, placed her fingertips on my nipples, and looked into my face. Her lips had thinned, her nostrils dilated, and her eyes stared directly into mine. She was the picture of determination. She augured her hips and lowered them steadily. Her eyes flickered wider as she forced me all the way in, but she settled into a luxurious, satisfied, smug smile once she felt herself come to rest.

Her fingers curled, her nails scratched at my chest, and she let out a purring hum. "Mmmmmm, I like thissssss," she hissed. She rocked forward and back a little, her eyes going out of focus as she felt the effects. "Oh, I really like that," but she hesitated, the slightest of frowns creasing her forehead. "But it feels like it gets even deeper. I already feel so completely full..."

Jessica's voice trailed off, but I continued to drink up her words. I resolved to stay mostly still, letting her explore as she'd explained she wanted to do. With cautious movements she raised herself straighter, and widened the spread of her knees. "Oh!" she gasped, stopping suddenly and resting one hand on her stomach, just below her belly button. "No," she said breathlessly, seeing my sudden concerned expression. "It's okay, I just... I just..." 

She arched her back slightly, letting her head back, and opened her mouth. I could see she gripped her left leg tight with one hand, but the fingers of her right hand spread wider and wider, straining at their limits. I felt her shift her body just slightly backward, angling my cock even deeper. "Oh my god," she gasped. I felt as though I was jammed into the finger of a tight, oiled glove. The pressure pushing on the end of my penis wasn't exactly pleasurable, but any thought of discomfort I had was blown out of my mind seconds later as her vagina gripped me tightly and spasmed three, four, five times. It was more than I could take. I broke my resolution to stay still, arched my back to thrust even further, and I exploded my own orgasm right back into her, shaking and pulsing in echoed pleasure.

I nearly passed out, overcome by the sensations, but managed to hang on, panting just like Jess. She sat there for a long time, slowly working herself down, deflating almost exactly like my penis, from taut-arched to slightly slouched. Her breathing calmed but remained deep. Her eyes were still wide open, though remained unfocused. She returned her hot hands and fingers to my chest, and relaxed the tension in her legs.

"Oh my god," she repeated hoarsely, and her words began to slur. "It can't possibly be like that every time, can it? Nobody would get anything done - they'd be doing this all day every day."

"No," I murmured back. "No, it's not. It's almost always wonderful, but that was spectacular."

She grinned around her deep breaths, some focus returning to her gaze as she looked at my neck. I imagined she could see my heartbeat there.

"I think," she whispered, almost incoherant. "I think I'm going to faint." 

She settled, almost flopped, down on me, her arms curled in close around her beautiful body, her head turned sideways to rest just under my chin. "Mmmm," she hummed as though starting to say something, but instead she wiggled once and fell silent. 

I did my best to pull the covers back over her, sure that she'd be cold despite the flood of heat radiating from her body, but otherwise did as little as possible. My penis slowly slid out, exhausted, as I relished the sensation of her curvaceous weight atop me.



Bible Camp Babysitter - Day 03



I did my best to stay out of Jessica's way all day. Breakfast convinced me of that. I couldn't keep my thoughts off the body hidden beneath her jeans and sweater. I caught myself looking at her so often, and so hungrily that I was convinced my daughter Mary had noticed something was odd. I avoided speaking, as well. My mind was so full of Jessica's succulent 19-year-old body and the incredible sex we'd been having, that I was sure I'd sneak a totally inappropriate word into an otherwise innocent conversation. 

The hours dragged by. I let myself snooze in front of my computer, doze on the couch with a game playing, and shuffle into another room whenever I heard the two friends coming. Mary, three months older than Jessica, shared many of the same tastes of her best friend, so they had plenty to occupy their time. But occasionally I experienced a thrill of fear.

"You're both so sleepy and quiet," Mary commented at the end of lunch. I had just yawned, apparently at the same time as Jessica.

"Huh?" My pulse leapt, and I fought to look casual as I played innocent. I refused to allow myself to look at Jessica.

"I haven't slept poorly," Jessica said with a shrug. "But then again I'm in an unusual house, an unusual bed, so it doesn't surprise me I'm not getting as much rest as usual."

"You're not even in a bed," Mary agreed. Jessica usually slept on the bean-bag chair in Mary's room when she came over. "I guess I can see that."

"I'm just not used to so much inactivity, I guess," I added. "I'm usually at work all day, it must keep me stimulated."

"That happens to my mom," Jessica said. "She works hard and then when she gets time off it's like she stored up all her need to sleep."

"Humph," Mary grunted, getting up. "C'mon Jess - I pre-loaded episode 102."

Not entirely sure what they were talking about, I stood as well and watched Jessica's legs walk out of the kitchen before cleaning up. -- "Mary's going to be even more suspicious tomorrow," Jessica giggled as she closed my door gently, at midnight.

"Why is that?" I asked, my heart rate already up again. Jessica turned, this time dressed in nothing but an oversized flannel shirt. I was still in my pajama pants, but had taken off my shirt before she showed up.

Jessica bit her bottom lip as she crossed to me, her eyes alight. She reached out, a pace away, and touched my chest with her fingertips, then slowly and smoothly stole her graceful fingers around to my back and stood on her bare toes to embrace me. I hugged her back, squeezing her luscious body against me to feel her breasts better.

"Why is Mary going to be more suspicious tomorrow?" I pressed.

"Mmmmmm," Jessica hummed, squeezing me back before looking up into my face. "I expect to get less sleep tonight."

"Oh yeah?" I grinned. Her tone and eagerness had my loins stirring. Of course, it could have nothing to do with her plastering her lithe curves against me.

"Yes!" she whispered with an answering grin. She let me go and took one step back. "Okay, here's what I want tonight."

I stood patiently (or at least imitating patience).

"Yesterday and the day before I was so nervous, and needed to explore so badly," she explained, her words coming out in a quiet rush as she continued to try to keep her voice down. "Well, today I want a sort of reverse exploration."

I frowned quizzically.

"What I mean by that," and her words were almost slurred with her rapid breathlessness. "Is that I wanted to learn about your body, about sex, and wanted to direct everything. But I know I'm still very inexperienced. I've got some obvious ideas about what to do, but it is very limited. I've had fun learning about your penis, and sex has completely exceeded my expectations, but I want to know what you can do to me - what kinds of touches, or acts, or whatever you can do like when I make you feel good with my fingers or my mouth."

This was all said in an incredible rush, her fingers twisting in and out of each other, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. 

I laughed happily. "Oh my, okay. I think I can do that."

"Really?" she almost squeaked, looking somewhat fearful.

"Of course!" I stepped closer again and hugged her, and leaned down to kiss her gently. "There are lots of things I can do, we can do together."

"Okay," she said quickly. "Okay, I'll just... I'll..."

I kissed her again, insistently, squeezing her gently until she hugged me back and relaxed. I ran my hands up her back, over the collar of her shirt, and combed my fingers upward into her hair. Continuing my soft, insistent kiss, I massaged the back of her head, her shoulders, and played with her hair. I never let the kiss get old or stale, but continued to stimulate the touch of our lips until her hot breath came out in quick, deep breaths. 

Her eyes had closed and her arms held me tightly. I left one hand playing in her hair, then with the other started to smooth the curves of her body I could reach, frequently under her shirt, occasionally trading hands. 

Then, lips still locked together, I bent down just a little further, clasped her firmly, and lifted her off the ground. Her eyes snapped open and she went a little rigid, but she wrapped her legs around my hips. I turned and set her on top of the bed, and finally stopped our kiss. 

"Nobody's kissed me like THAT," she said. 

I rested one finger across her lips. "Shhhhh. Just feel. Talk later."

With long, smooth movements I caressed her legs, her hips, her sides, her breasts, then made my way back down her beautiful body. I repeated the caress, unbuttoning one button of her shirt every time until it lay completely open. With both hands I smoothed her skin up to her shoulder, then working my fingers around her arm, helped her pull herself out of one sleeve. I then rolled her over on her stomach, and pulled her shirt completely off. 

She lay, long and straight, face-down on the bed with her arms tucked in close, shivering. I was sure it wasn't the temperature this time, for I'd warmed up the house nicely, setting the vents so my room was more comfortable. I climbed up onto the bed next to her, one knee on either side of her supply rounded buttocks, and placed my hands on the small of her back.

After a stolen glance at my clock, I began a modest pressure massage. I'd always been good at this, and though it had been six years since Catherine had died, I'd taken great pleasure and pride in gifting her with frequent, luxurious massages. I might have been out of practice, but things came back to me quickly. I used my knuckles whenever I could, kneading her muscles. I smoothed over any of the bonier parts of her back with my fingertips instead, and I paid particular attention to the back of Jessica's neck and her beautiful tangle of long, blond hair. 

At fifteen minutes I shifted, spreading her legs a few inches apart and kneeling next to her. I ached to be chewing on her ass cheeks, or to be buried in her most heat, but kept myself in check. Instead I included the back of her legs now, occasionally returning to neck, shoulders, back. I worked my knuckles slightly harder into her thighs and calves, but really dug them into the arches of her feet. I pulled and stretched her toes, smoothed her skin up and down, and occasionally leaned into a tighter muscle.

I didn't slow the massage down until I'd given Jessica 31 minutes. By that time she had relaxed so much I doubted she could have lifted her foot on her own power. She felt like a rag-doll under my hands. She'd also begun moaning almost continually, loud enough that I was glad her face was half buried in my pillow.

Carefully returning her to her back, I helped arrange her arms away from her sides, her legs spread open, and returned to massaging her feet, her shins, her thighs. I had learned how strangely well Catherine had reacted to massaging her knees - so long as I didn't fiddle with her kneecaps, it seemed the meatier parts relished the attention.

Jessica's moans had given way to heavy breathing, aware that she shouldn't make enough noise to carry to Mary. I climbed back onto the bed, knelt between her feet, and pushed her legs slowly, but firmly, apart. I watched as her eyes snapped open again, staring with unfocused alarm at the ceiling. Her breathing sped up, but her arms remained limp, spread out to either side, palms up.

I leaned down, approaching very slowly, and teased her glistening pussy lips apart with my tongue. A catch entered her breathing as she almost wheezed with every breath, as if in pain. I explored with my tongue and lips, probing into the hole, up and around her clitoris, sucked gently, nipped with my lips. I tried lapping up her juices, but she was simply too wet. Her body trembled violently now, non-stop, and when I looked up I saw she'd turned her hands over and gripped the comforter frantically. Her back had arched. Against my sides I could feel her legs were tight, her feet strained as though she could reach across the room and push the wall with her toes.

Jessica squeaked something inaudible in three panted, high-pitched, inarticulate whispers, but I couldn't make it out. I could tell, however, that if I didn't stop she was going to start yelling, so I eased back.

Smoothly replacing my tongue and mouth with my fingers and hand, I rose and straddled one of her legs. Her head was turned on its side now, away from me, her mouth open wide, blasting air out and sucking it in, but her quaking was less frantic.

As I worked my first two fingers deeper, in and out of her vagina, my thumb rubbing unevenly against her clitoris, I worked my own aching penis out of my pajama fly. With a slight thwack, I let it fall against her thigh, then leaned over her again, pressing gently into her flesh as my lips found her breasts. She writhed and tossed, her eyes squeezed shut, biting her lips furiously until I relented.

Jessica covered her eyes with her hands and shook, almost as if sobbing, while I stood and took off my pajamas. I was on fire to imbed myself within her luscious body, but I was determined to give her what she'd asked for tonight. There were still several nights ahead of us, I could steer us in other directions then.

I went into the bathroom and came out with a couple towels, some baby oil, and freshly washed hands. Jessica had not moved, but had stopped shaking. Her legs lay open, weak. 

I sat down on the bed next to her and began to rub her feet, her ankles, her calves. As I raised a leg for better access, I spread the large towel underneath. When it was fully in place I oiled up my fingers and began to smooth it into her skin with firm pressure. Before long her silky skin glistened, and she moaned as I massaged the soles of her feet. 

Unable to help myself, I climbed around, brought her slick, pliant feet together, and pressed them to either side of my dick. She twitched feebly, and I used my own thighs to keep her feet firmly clasped I place as I stroked the inside of her legs, working slowly closer, closer to her pussy. 

Shivering with renewed anticipation, she leaned into me, clutching at my penis with her toes as I pushed my fingers back into her vagina. I hovered over her now, propped on one arm, gently fucking her slippery feet. I knew what areas, what fingering techniques had excited Catherine when she was still alive and employed them as best I could remember. She'd always said she enjoyed my fingers more than my mouth, so I suppose I did things well.

Several minutes later, Jessica gave out the tiniest little cries and her pussy contracted around my fingers several times. Judging the time was right, and knowing I couldn't stand it any longer anyway, I pulled my fingers out, worked myself closer, and took one long, glorious leg in each hand. Holding them high and wide, I lifted and adjusted her hips until I could enter, and finally slid home.

She felt so hot inside, and my penis so cold from being out and exposed for so long, that I gasped and grimaced. She still twitched and occasionally contracted, squeezing me as I pushed deeper. After much squirming, wriggling and shifting I finally felt enveloped. I held her legs up and out like two enormous wings, dipping myself in and out. She pointed her toes again, quivering and contracting, her lips shaking, her eyes squeezed tight shut.

Not being super-human, it didn't take me long. A thick rush of pleasure and I thrust in as deep as I could reach from this angle, my penis pulsing with my orgasm. I knelt there, knees and limbs aching, energy spent, breathing heavily, eyes roving over her lithe body, her long legs.

After a few moments I looked into her face and caught my breath. In a flash I felt the blood fleeing my penis. "What's the matter?" I whispered urgently. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

Jessica looked terrified, her mouth in a tragic moue her eyes spilling over with tears. Her arms lay limply to either side, her legs suddenly heavy on my arms. She merely shook her head and began to sob, trying to keep her cries as quiet as possible. 

"No!" she managed through a sob. I had shifted, preparing to pull away and let her legs down. She worked her legs furiously and I let them go, confused, hurt. But she didn't writhe away from me. Her legs swung around my waist and held me in place, though I had almost no hard left to stay inside her. She reached her arms up for me, still crying, in a clear request for an embrace.

Uncertain, I lay down atop her, holding as much of my weight on my elbows as I could, afraid of putting too much pressure on her gorgeous, crying body. She wrapped her arms around the back of my neck and pulled me tighter to her, clutching with what strength she had in her legs.

I did my best to just be there, solid, warm, and steady, though inside I was in turmoil. I had any number of guesses what had set her off, but hadn't enough information to know for sure. Clearly she wanted me to hold her, so I did. I worked one hand into her hair and began to massage the side of her head as she wound down.

The shaking and urgency in her body caused an involuntary reaction, stiffening me back up somewhat despite my recent ejaculation. I wasn't fully erect, but the way she sobbed, and the insistence with which she clutched my body caused her pussy to rub my cock in and out, in and out. I felt horrible, enjoying myself even unintentionally while she was in such distress, yet felt to pull away would do more harm. 

Finally, Jessica subsided into sniffles let her arms relax, then let me go and started to dry her eyes.

"Don't," she said shakily, as I started to move. "Don't leave me. I mean," she clarified. "Please don't pull yourself out. Just - just lay on me. Let me feel you, for a moment longer."

"Jess," I began, though I complied.

She shook her head again, tentatively letting her legs down, as though afraid I might back up if she let me. Finally she relaxed, still sniffling, still trying to dry her face. The shift in her hips stirred my penis further and I thickened a little in her sopping pussy.

"Can't I get you a Kleenex?" I asked, hoping she'd refuse. 

"Not yet," she took a shuddering breath.

"What happened?" I asked, insecure guilt flooding through me. "What did I do?"

"Nothing," Jessica said, trying to smile, her eyes glittering with tears. "Well, everything. But nothing wrong. Or maybe everything wrong."

"I don't understand," I murmured.

The terrified expression started to transform her features and she looked through me. "I'll - I'll try to explain," she stammered. 

Jessica took several calming breaths, then reached up and stroked my arms as I held myself up over her body. "Oh, Tim. Mr. Schmidt," she started, continuing before I could address how she should address me. "You did exactly what I asked. You were amazing. I never knew I could feel like that. I had no idea those sensations were possible. I only know the abstract and overused word ecstasy did not prepare me in the least."

She looked down, her eyes still unfocused, through my chest. "I wanted you to do that. I wanted you to push all the right buttons, to light me up. I just..." she stopped, her fingers working around my biceps. "It was far too strong. Far too powerful. I was completely helpless. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I couldn't control anything. I was completely overwhelmed. How many times I wanted to ask you to stop, urgently, frightened by the pleasure - but I couldn't! I tried! I wanted to regain control, to have some vestige of power left, not over you but over myself."

She took another shuddering breath and looked into my eyes. "I had no idea. I wasn't prepared. In those moments I would have done anything for you to continue, even as I was desperate for you to stop. Nothing else mattered, I didn't care what was going on, what you were doing to me, who might find out, what I might neglect or ignore just to have the pleasure continue!"

Her eyes looked troubled. "It frightened me, and even that heightened my pleasure. I don't want to want anything that much! Even now I can feel myself both yearning for that again and desperate to flee, to get away, to break myself of what could become a terrible addiction! I..." she looked almost wild as she stammered. "I'm almost afraid I would sign my soul away to have you do that again - that it's almost inevitable that I will. Not right now, but I know the need will build again. I don't want to give that power to anyone, but it's too late - and I won't want to give it to anyone else! I know you wouldn't abuse it, wouldn't abuse me - you only did what I asked. But I know it exists now, I know it is possible. I'm so afraid. Afraid of what I'd do to get it again, or that you wouldn't - you wouldn't..."

All the devils, all the angels, all the thudding of hot blood in my loins thundered in my ears and in my penis. I could feel my loins fighting the opposed urges to deflate and to harden into a rock. Temptations and urgent desires of my own raced through me in a maelstrom of unforgivable sin and warm, tender love. Was there a part of me, a dangerous, tiny part that craved that control? Desperately wanted to play the horrible mind game that would bind this beautiful girl to me? Sex was so tempting, so alluring, I'd forgotten my own appetites, and how much I could want it. 

Her words and fears drilled into me. I realized they were as much for me as for her. She had done everything right, and was even right about this. She could not have had this kind of sexual experience without building up for it for so long - what had she said? More than a year? I would love to have claimed to have been the kind of lover she ascribed to my skills, to have been able to do that to any woman, but I knew I was mostly lucky. True, I had to know what I was doing, but I had to have been handed this set of circumstances to deliver the kind of pleasure she'd felt. 

But as to what she'd said, it sounded more like how I'd felt about sex in my younger, more desperately hungry years. She'd come to me for my physical maturity, for the warm, tender way I could bring her into sexual experiences, but she'd also ended up with my mental, emotional maturity. Much as I would love unlimited access to her delectable body, I knew it would never work. She was going to ask in the future, and I was going to be powerless to refuse. But I couldn't control her. I couldn't manipulate her. I could not grasp that soul she said she thought she was willing to sell, but I could stroke it, caress it, kiss it.

I bent down over her, ever closer, watching the jewels of her eyes as I leaned in for a soft, long, reassuring kiss. She responded, but I could tell in her fear she wanted to finish the kiss and hear her salvation.

"Oh Jessica," I said softly when we parted, mastering myself when I really wanted to squirm some more, slide in and out, make her feel pleasure instead of talking. But what I knew was what I was about to tell her, and it applied to me too. "I don't know how much you know about sex from my side, but it feels incredible too. Some men go crazy over it, lose their heads, do horrible things or go to unrealistic lengths to get it. But what they're really fighting - what you're dealing with now, and what I used to suffer through too - is uncertainty, not true addiction."




Bible Camp Babysitter - Day 04



Day Four

We had a lot of chores today, and it was probably good. It wasn't exactly a tradition, but it was expected. Every year there seemed to be at least one day where I had the girls help me with a few projects, even if they were as mundane as catching up laundry and cleaning the floor.

Being a little colder this year, I focused on indoor things in the morning. I had plenty of coffee available, for both Mary and Jessica had reached the point where they liked to pretend they enjoyed coffee more than hot chocolate. Truth be told, my coffee was little more than hot chocolate under a different name anyway. 

I worked right along with them (though I admit I watched a lot while scrubbing), as we cleaned the windows and mopped the hard floors. I let them pick music to play loud through the house. Occasionally our chores would take us into different rooms, and once in a while I was alone - for a few seconds - with Jessica. 

She always looked excited by the idea of our being alone together, gave me wild grins and giggled nervously. She even backed up into me "on accident" and rubbed against me with a hum, though we kept it very short and careful.

Except for these moments, Jessica seemed to me to wear a very introspective expression. She wasn't exactly somber, but occasionally she lost focus, one hand playing with the charm around her neck, staring out the half-cleaned window.

In the afternoon we spent some time splitting firewood. I had fun showing them how it was done, and admittedly let my ego stoke at the fact that it was so much easier, with my height, stronger arms, and bigger stature, to swing the maul over my head and seemingly part the wood effortlessly. The girls laughed and had a good time with the fact that they were "being manly" with axes and wood. I'd let them dress up in my logger shirts, with fuzzy hats and warm boots. My work gloves were a little large on their hands, but it was fun nonetheless. They swung the axes over their heads, more often than not burying the head in the wood without splitting it in half. We'd use a sledge to finish the job, or I'd lift the axe and wood together and bring it crashing down on the splitting stump. 

Half way through our work, Mary - laughing happily - squeezed my biceps and shoulders appreciatively, telling Jessica how nice it was to have a strong man in the house to handle these kinds of things. Jessica, to my thrill, took this as permission to touch me likewise and felt my upper arms, my shoulders, and even the back of my neck. She laughed like Mary, her eyes twinkling, and jabbered away about the idea. It was the first time Mary had talked about having a father around that Jessica didn't seem bitter.

Warmed up by our exercise, and enjoying the sunny, cold day, we elected to take an afternoon walk. It was pleasant to stroll through the trees near our house, down the lane, arm-in-arm, just talking about nothing. I was sure after her shock, Jessica needed the simple, easy, stabilizing recovery time. I knew how obsessive awesome sex could make me, even though I'd thought less and less about it over the years. I figured for a guy, or at least most of us, we weren't so much afraid of it but rather sought it out. For a girl, I reasoned, it might be more frightening.

Our evening pajama-movie was fairly uneventful. I felt a little let down, and thought about that myself as the cartoon ran through average humor and an order-ready plot. I remembered how many times it seemed as though I got myself worked up. Sometimes I went through a week where passions ran high, where my appetite for sex was enormous and had the fortune that it was being met. During those times I craved the physical attention and favors, and felt that their relief meant that I stayed at an even level instead of building up further frustrated heat. 

Unfortunately, during a long stretch like that where my needs were high - even if they were being met - there were times when I really wanted something and some attention and it didn't happen. It was a let-down, even though I knew my sexual partner was doing pretty much everything she could to keep me satisfied and remain sane simultaneously. 

So, I sat on the couch, cuddled nicely with the warm, cozy girls, wishing Jessica would pay attention to my penis instead of the movie, and felt simultaneously guilty and resentful. It wasn't fair of me to ask for more than she was already doing, but I also felt as though I'd been wound up and had reasonable expectations and they weren't happening. 

I shook my head out and focused on how ungrateful that was. What would how many other men offer or sacrifice for what I was being given every night this week? 

'Chill out,' I told myself. 'You can't make yourself like the movie, but you can let your mind drift and have a modicum of patience.'

I frowned, thought about it, and realized my grumpiness came from what it always seemed to come from. Uncertainty about sexual release. I was horny, no doubt about it. I wanted, craved, needed sex tonight, but I was concerned that Jessica was still recovering from last night's encounter and its unexpected emotional ramifications. I feared she might not be in the mood tonight. Might not come to my room. Might have scared herself right out of the whole experiment. I had been sexually stirred, awakened, and then brought roaring to lusty life. I was going to be grumpy if I was asked to simply let it go, settle down, and go back to sleep. It didn't work like that.

'It never worked like that,' I realized, looking back across my life. True concerns might make me scared or nervous, but almost every time I could remember just being grumpy - the kind of grumpy that rubbed off on others or was obvious or affected my days - was because I was horny without enough release.

The thought that Jessica had flirted with me today took the edge off my grumpiness and unease, but didn't eliminate it. We watched through the end of the movie, shared a little small talk about it, and tidied up the living room. I hugged the girls goodnight and took refuge in my den. 

--

Relief, warm floods of delighted, almost overwhelming relief washed through me as I finally arrived at my room. The tension eased out of my neck, shoulders, temples. A warm, happy smile forced itself through and onto my face.

Jessica not only beat me to the room, she sported a playfully stern frown. She had retained my logger shirt, which was overlarge, blocky, and bulky on her feminine frame and therefore accentuated her curves. She'd wrapped the comforter around her hips, but one bare leg hung over the side of the bed, swinging as if annoyed. 

"I was beginning to think," she said with an edge to her voice as I paused to close the door quietly. "That you did not want to come up here or be with me tonight."

I crossed to her swiftly, and with one strong, smooth motion gathered her into my eager arms. "Oh," I sighed into her hair as I lifted her into the air. "I was so worried! I thought you weren't going to be here, that you were too affected by last night, and weren't going to want to do anything, that despite what you said, I'd hurt you or it was too much or you'd had enough and needed time."

Her frown had melted away, and her legs kicked delightedly before she wrapped them around me like her arms. She giggle-sighed right back into my ear. "Not at all, not at all. Quite the opposite." She squeezed me hard, as though clinging to a cliff wall. "Mmmmmmmm," her hum went on and on and on. 

"Though," she said at last, and pushed her head back, keeping her legs locked around my hips. "I certainly need to change things up again. I want something very different tonight."

"What is that?" I asked, smiling from my eyes to my toes. I could have happily turned into a tree and held her forever. 'Now who is being ridiculously poetic?' I asked myself with an inward laugh. I knew it was the giddiness of my fears erased and my sexual appetite about to be satisfied that made me far too corny and happy. 

She wrapped her arms tight around my neck and pulled me into an insistent kiss, running her fingers through my hair. "I want it to be," she managed between passionate kisses. "Active and busy. More playful this time. I want you to lead, to have me do some slightly unusual things, I don't know..."

I kissed her back, holding her up, thinking it had been a long time since I was asked to be athletic. I wasn't exactly out of shape, and she wasn't exactly heavy, but I wasn't exactly sure what to do either. Buying time, I worked one hand up into her hair and used it to pull her head back, giving me access to her beautiful neck. I kissed and nibbled lightly up one side, across her jaw, and down the other. I'd forgotten how effective that could be, and was pleasantly surprised how much strength she had in her suddenly squeezing legs. I worked at her neck some more, keeping pressure around her with my arms. 

She started to grind against me, so I set my right arm as well as I could to give her support and pulled us slightly further apart. We stood not unlike like the letter Y, her back arched and head thrown back, my free hand unbuttoning her shirt as well as I could. Before long her breasts shone up at me in heaving desire. With both hands supporting her again, I pulled her a little higher and kissed her nipples. I tried getting as much breast in my mouth as I could, but used as little of my teeth as I could get away with. I wanted to save them for later. 

Jessica kept her fingers working through my hair, and I could hear her deep, rapid breathing. After a minute or two I could feel my thighs starting to feel the strain, and decided to change our balance before getting off my feet. I straightened us up and guided her bottom with firm pressure, moving her around just a little so that she was as close to being on my right hip as our bodies would allow. I kept her riding high enough that my lips were constantly in contact with her breasts, then with my left arm I unhooked her right leg. 

Uncertainly at first, then with increasing negligence, Jessica let her leg loose and then dangle as she started out unsure what to do with it then forgot its presence altogether. I squashed her against my hip, encouraging her grinding motion, and continued to kiss the side of her breast, occasionally flicking my tongue over her hardened nipple, but I also detached her left arm from my head and guided it slowly, inexorably, towards my waist. 

Jessica took the hint quickly and I let her hand go. She continued downward a little faster in her eagerness and wrapped her fingers around the soft fabric that now stood out. Her technique might be inexperienced, almost awkward at times, but there was no denying that eager, strong fingers gripped and stroked my penis through the pajamas. 

After a few moments she worked her hand into the waistband and grasped me directly. I could hear her breathing deepen, sense she looked down at me as I sucked her nipple, breast, and the side of her chest. Occasionally she lost all concentration and I could feel her hand go still, but I would send a pulse through my penis and she'd return to stroking me again. 

Before her grinding could become mechanical or distracting, I shifted us again. With movements I hoped felt more confident and sturdy to her than they did to me, I lifted her even higher, and bent her over. Ducking my head back, I reached over my shoulder and pulled her left leg up. She squeaked a nervous laugh like a girl might when being tossed into the air, and I settled her thighs on my shoulders. My logger shirt hung loosely from her shoulders like some inverted cape.

With my hands holding her hips up, I drew her groin snug against my face and adjusted her position so I had perfect access to her glistening lips, and her weight was more comfortably aligned. I could feel her uncertainty again, not so much with what she should be doing as how to deal with her legs. I shifted my arms higher so that my hands rested around the sensual curves of her rump and my elbows were hooked about her hips. Here I could use my upper arms to squeeze her thighs around me, letting her know it was not only okay, but heightened my own pleasure. I began to lick, kiss, and play with her clitoris, lips, and what of her vagina I could reach with my tongue.

She laughed again, a sound now muffled by the creamy coolness of her thighs, and wrapped her own lips around my cock. For several minutes I let go of thinking, of planning, of the strain on my legs, of any unpleasant thought and just enjoyed myself as she sucked, moaned, bucked, and occasionally chewed on my penis. I kept up constant movement and pressure, occasionally grinding her body into my face, often tantalizing with my tongue. At one point, I couldn't tell when - I couldn't tell much of anything, honestly - she'd curled her legs up and her feet rested against my head. I felt I could have died with pleasure. 

With incredible effort, recognizing the symptoms of impending ejaculation, I slowed, pulled my mouth away, and took a couple staggered steps towards the bed. Mercifully she took her mouth off me, possibly unsure how to deal with the motion, and my ever-nearing eruption began to subside. I wanted to last a little longer.

Curling awkwardly, I half unrolled, half set her on the bed, and stretched. Now that overwhelming waves of moist-mouthed pleasure were not rocking my penis, I could feel my legs and feet had gotten tired. Jessica looked at me with playful, wide eyes, actually licking her lips and wiping her wet mouth and chin with the back of her hands. It was all I could do to remember she wanted me to be dominant, because it sure looked like she was about to produce fangs and an evil grin and greedily devour me bit by bit.

I climbed out of my pajamas and pulled off her shirt, then rolled her onto her stomach. I knew I needed to keep up the contact, but I needed a break, and perhaps a position that was less pleasurable for me, but still stimulating for her. She hummed in excited, anticipating ways and wiggled on the bed, but when she spread her legs wide and lifted her ass a little, I slid them closed again.

Once on the bed I stooped over her, straddling her calves, and smoothed my hands over her achingly sexy ass. I used firm pressure to maintain my authority, but wasn't about to stop there. Without warning I slapped her tight, rounded cheek. Not hard at all, but with the undeniable snap of a spank. It was the illusion of pain, but drew out a gasp as though I'd thrust a baseball bat into her. She tensed right up. I smoothed her ass some more, slapped the other cheek the same way. She convulsively grasped the comforter in each hand and thrust her buttocks higher. 

Again I smoothed over her ass, wishing I could eat the whole thing in one enormous, gluttonous bite, but this time instead of slapping her I dug in my nails and scratched from the small of her back to the top of her legs. By this time her breathing became so deep and fast I felt sure she would start to hyperventilate, and her back was so arched it looked painful. She quivered. I couldn't keep her waiting any longer.

With my legs outside hers, pinning her to the bed and holding her closed, I shimmied upward. The lips of her pussy had swollen nicely, were still glistening with her juices and from my mouth, and had darkened nicely. My own cock throbbed to be home, and I did my best to lever myself into place.

It wasn't an easy angle, but she was so slick and arched that I was able to dip myself down and bury myself a few inches into her heat. I could feel the pressure and contact against the front wall of her vagina, hear the slight squeak in her voice, and feel her shudder as I worked myself up and down. The angle wasn't the most stimulating for me, but judging by the reactions I was getting, really worked for Jessica. 

I leaned down, keeping her body pinned with my weight, and grasped her wrists. I carefully but firmly pulled her arms outward, slightly over her head, stretching them straight. My own breathing became guttural, and I wrapped my fingers completely around her like handcuffs or manacles. Her inarticulate squeaking formed slowly into high-pitched, whispered "oh - oh - oh", and I felt her body go rigid with tension. 

By bending my own elbows slightly I laid myself atop her back, slowly letting more and more skin come in contact. The firm, round pressure of her trembling buttocks filled my pelvis, the smooth, cool skin of her back caressed my chest. My shoulders covered and dominated hers. 

For some time I moved as well as I could, 'smothering' her with my body. Finally, when the persistence of this awkward angle threatened to lessen my hardness, I hoisted myself up again. Instead of allowing for a slow transition, wanting to go with the slight domination and lead, I let go of her wrists and quickly moved back.

Jessica made a lascivious, disappointed noise as I pulled out of her pussy, but I gave her little time to think about it. I shifted my weight first left and then right, to allow me to work my knees between her legs, forcing her to spread. I reached down and grabbed as much of her rich, golden hair as I could quickly manage, and raked my fingers through it, gathering it into one fist. That accomplished, I wrapped the fingers of my other hand around her hip and pulled her insistently upward and back. 

Tugging gently but with implied strength on her hair I pulled her head back and up, and rocked her body backward onto my cock. On her hand and knees now, her breathing coming in huge, fast gulps, I buried myself much deeper than I could reach before. With my hands, one wrapped around her luscious hip, the other clasped firmly in her gorgeous hair, I moved her with a strong, steady rhythm. 

Again she arched her back, and before long my encouragement was superfluous. I kept enough pressure up on her hair to make her feel dominated, but little enough she could adjust her neck if she wanted. Her attention seemed, however, completely focused on the thickness of my rod sliding in and out, as deep as I could reach, and as close to coming out as I could manage. 

My hip-hand couldn't stay still. Within moments I found myself unable to stop myself caressing her lithe curves, her shapely rump, her slender sides. My own fingers began to tremble. I forced myself to focus, to take deep breaths. It helped ease the mounting tingles, but I knew I could not last more than another minute or two at this pace. I had one more thing I wanted to do.

Jessica, oblivious to my self-inflicted torture, shuddered and bucked, breaking her rhythm, then asserted her wild pleasure again, tossing her head back so what hair that was free from my grasp flew upward and back. I kept myself from exploding in orgasm only by concentrating on the mounting pain in my knees. I wasn't about to let up on them, either, and the thought kept me sane. I let go of her hair and she immediately ducked her head, shook it violently, and flung it back again. The shower of gold over her pumping back and shoulders sent a shock through my system.

'No, no, no!' I thought desperately, my eyes wide, my willpower put on hold. I put a hand on either side of her hips, felt them softly, pulled them hard against me to stop her motion, felt myself buried deep within her. Jessica almost snarled, ducked her head again, and dropped to her elbows. She tried to move, tried to wriggle, but I squeezed and asserted my control. I stayed as still as possible for a moment, for I was sure even if I pulled her off, the motion would cause me to explode over the top. 

Finally, after a few seconds, the sensation abated just enough that I pulled her slowly, inexorably, off my eagerly thrumming penis.

I knelt back on my feet a moment, the cold air washing over my wet prick. I felt incredible, I knew I could stand only a tiny bit more stimulation.




Bible Camp Babysitter - Day 04



With strong motions I manipulated Jessica onto her back. She looked up at me with hair draped across her face. I couldn't read her expression, but her body had stayed stiff. Her knees were slightly up and spread wide. Her feet flexed. She seemed unsure what to do with her arms, almost unaware of their existence.

I climbed over her hips, a move she hadn't expected, and straddled her stomach. My penis twitched with the heavy beating of my heart, gently touching her skin as I reached forward and started to brush the hair back from her neck, her cheeks, her forehead. As I smoothed it out in a huge golden fan around her head, I took subtle crawling-steps up her body until my thighs squeezed gently around her ribs. 

I took her hands in mine and drew them closer in to her own body until she cupped her own breasts and pressed them together against my penis. Though her breasts were magnificent for her age, they weren't enormous. She still managed to wrap my shaft between them. She arched her back and forced her head back, enhancing the image of golden waves around her head. She closed her eyes and sighed. 

Working together, we built up a little rhythm. The incredible, insistent, smooth softness of her breasts enveloped most of my penis, though the head stood out proudly over her cleavage. I could feel the beating of her heart through her warm, glorious skin. I felt myself build, gave myself over to the blinding-white pleasure, and released my load. 

A pearly glob shot against the bottom of her chin, a strand arched out and fell across her beautiful neck, she let out another squeak of pleasure and held herself still. A few more pulses oozed out, glistening against her chest. "Oh my god," I managed. 

Jessica licked her lips and hummed. I felt the vibrations through my balls, my shaft, my body, as though she were not so much a purring girl beneath me but an insistent bass drum rolling in the distance, commanding the attention of my stomach. 

I stayed still as long as my knees could stand it while she massaged her breasts languorously over and around me. Finally I climbed off, crossed to the dresser, and brought back a soft cloth. I stood frozen by the side of the bed, eyes glued to Jessica's chest, for she'd shifted her attention and was rubbing her neck, her chin, her breasts as if my cum were precious skin lotion.

Eventually she turned her head to the side, smiled, and looked at me with half-closed eyes. I nearly melted on the spot. Once again she wasn't done with me and despite the fact I normally would have been done for the evening, I felt an immediate wind-up of desire and emotion. 

I dropped the cloth unawares and reached my other hand out to beckon her over. Her eyebrows raised only slightly in pleased surprise, and she climbed out of bed eagerly to take my hand. Some of her golden hair stuck to her chest, which gleamed dully with the trace of my moisture. A giggle behind closed lips got caught in her throat as she followed me towards the bathroom. Her nerves, the chilly air, and the excitement of our passion fluttered it around as she tried to keep from making too loud a noise.

I stood her next to the walk-in shower, still holding her hand, and pulled the door open. The tiles felt cold beneath my feet and I felt Jessica shiver. She bunched her shoulders closer together and wrapped her free arm under her breasts. Her nipples stood out hard and clear. 

Trying not to torture her longer just so I could drink in her body, I pulled on the water and adjusted the knob, waiting a moment until the water was hot. I led her into the warmth and shut the door behind us. She let out a gasp of pleasure as the hot water conflicted with the cold on her skin, in the air, and under her feet. I wrapped my arms around her and stood her in the direct stream. 

With massaging motions born of my desire not only to treat her but to keep touching her, I worked water into her hair, rubbed her back, squeezed her buttocks, held her close. Before long a cloud of vapor filled the shower. Wishing I had something scented or feminine instead, I reached for my more utility shampoo, squirted a blob into my palm, and began working it into her hair. 

She stood semi-rigid, not like a scared animal surrounded by predators, but like a young princess surrounded by magic sprites, afraid that if she moved the magic would stop. Her smile, her closed eyes, her weight up on the balls of her feet all spoke to delighted pleasure. I made sure hot water constantly bathed at least somewhere on her skin as I lathered her hair, squeezing it gently, running my fingers through it, adoring it, worshipping it. 

I rinsed her out by manipulating her body into place, tilting her head back, and using small motions so she wouldn't get soap in her eyes. At last the suds stopped appearing in the water-deepened gold of her hair. I turned her around so the hot water splashed on her breasts and her supple ass brushed against my thick, anticipatory cock. 

Again I took down my manly conditioner, wishing I could make the shower smell like a rose garden, but instead squirting a healthy dollop of the slick substance into my hand. I worked it again into her hair, smoothing out the tangles, glorying in the ability to play with such lovely perfection. She began to rub back and forth against me gently, quivering when her back would touch my chest, or when the curves of her butt would trap the roundness of my semi-erect penis. 

Determined to control myself and the situation, I grabbed the soap and with my hand still slick from conditioner, which I had not yet rinsed out of her hair, I promptly dropped it. Jessica startled and looked down where it lay just before her feet, but before she could move, I crouched to pick it up. My body slid smoothly against hers, my cheek caressing the length of her side, the curve of her hip. I leaned against her wet, glittering skin and hugged her ass against my shoulder. 

Scooping up the soap, I brought it over her toes, her feet, her ankles, and lathered it between my hands. The water kept running the suds away, but she hardly seemed to care. She trembled freely, and I could feel her heavy breaths over the rushing water. I caressed every inch of her from her feet upward, taking plenty of time. I kissed the backs of her shapely calves, washed her knees, circled her thighs with my hands, and smoothed them up.

Standing again, but a little stooped, I worked more lather out of the soap and washed her buttocks, deep beneath the cheeks, and finally put soapy, clean, insistent pressure reach-around fashion on the lips of her pussy. This way the whole of her back and her delicious bottom pressed against me, warmed by the shower. I worked my hands up and down her stomach, over her breasts, along the canal between her clitoris and the opening of her vagina, spreading soap that was almost immediately washed away.

I washed her neck, her shoulders, her back, then pressed against her again and washed each arm right down to the fingertips. She hummed with delight at each new touch, and positively glowed when I finished. Putting the soap away, I turned her around and finally rinsed the conditioner from her hair, working my fingers in at the roots and massaging her scalp as I went. 

"How does that feel?" I asked through the pouring, hot water. 

"About half done," she replied, rising momentarily to her toes in order to kiss my wet lips. She turned just enough to retrieve the soap herself, and eagerly worked up her own lather. She started at my neck, directed me to turn about every once in a while, and made her way down over my shoulders and back. The avaricious glare in her eyes when she ran her delicate fingers over my chest made me feel like a master artist's bronze statue, but she did eventually continue downward.

Though she missed several spots in her eager work, she certainly understood the highlight. Crouching down before me, she soaped up my penis and balls, using long, slow motions that made me feel twice as long, twice as impressive as I really was. She barely waited for the soap to be rinsed away before she had me in her mouth again, sucking earnestly and deep, as though thirsting for the water from my skin.

I responded as was only natural, aside from my semi-stifled groans of pleasure, by stiffening significantly, but she refused to let up. Without hastening her pace, she sucked me in as deep as she could, then slid out slowly, only to repeat the process again and again, her beautiful, soaked head working sinuously back and forth, in and out. her arms curled around until she cupped my ass with her hands, the bar of soap evident in her palm. 

"Mmmmmmm," she hummed, her penis-muffled voice magnified by the acoustics of the shower. Sensing, I think, my impending orgasm, she backed off, letting the soothing water run over my length, and stood slowly, placing the soap back in its dish.

When she turned back to face me, Jessica inched her body against mine, slowly and deliberately, biting her bottom lip playfully. She angled us so that the hot water cascaded down our bodies, then shifted her right foot so that the balls of her feet stood on my left toes. 

Staring into my eyes like a prowling cat, she reached up and hooked her hands around my neck. Her left leg caressed my right as she raised it slowly, purposefully, until her knee was as high as she could get it. She twitched and pushed herself up on her right toes. Letting go with her left hand, but holding all the firmer with her right, she reached below her raised leg and with a slight adjustment guided my penis into her waiting pussy.

I worked my way in as well as I could, for the water made our skin cling, but she clearly didn't care. She clung tighter and tighter to me as if she could make our two bodies one if she exerted enough pressure. I held her tightly too, and in the end it was the tension and the incredible desire evident in her eyes and every one of her taut muscles that pushed me over the edge. I thudded within her, my penis screaming for the sweet release, my cum leaking out of her swollen lips to mingle with the hot, running water.

For a very long time, Jessica would not let go.