Babysat

“But I don’t want a babysitter!” Tiffany whined, stomping her foot against the hardwood floor.

“Tiff,” her mother explained with a note of exasperation, “we know you don’t need a babysitter, but you’re not old enough to take care of David and the twins by yourself,”

“That’s right,” her father echoed, “so we expect you to help her out tonight,”

“Hmmph!” Tiffany stormed off and locked herself in her room. She heard her father follow her and her mother say that they were going to be late. Minutes later, the car pulled away and rumbled down the road. Tiffany laid on her bed and covered her head with a pillow. The humiliation was unending. If anyone at school found out about this, she’d be ruined.

The all-too peppy ring of the doorbell drew the distraught girl out of her bedroom. Quickly fixing her mousy hair in the hall mirror, she tried to look as mature as possible before letting the babysitter in.

‘My life is over,’ Tiffany thought when she recognized the slim blonde at the door. It was Carly Williams, the captain of the girls varsity basketball team at her high school.

“Hi, I’m Carly,” she said, extending her long, delicate hand. “You must be Tiffany,”

“Uh-huh,” Tiffany replied, now assured of her impending social doom, and led Carly into the living room to meet her younger brothers. After a brief rundown of her parents’ instructions, Tiffany disappeared once again into her room.

And there she would have stayed the whole night, had she not gotten hungry. After a six-minute hunger strike, Tiffany crept into the kitchen and made herself a bologna sandwich. Licking mustard off her fingers, she saw that no one was in the living room and sat down in front of the television. Halfway through her favorite teen drama, see looked up to see Carly walking in from tucking the twins into bed.

“Hey there,” she said.

“Hi,” Tiffany replied. Instantly, her embarrassment resurfaced. She felt silly and immature for the way she acted, and the realization of her immaturity only made her feel worse for having a babysitter.

“Oh, I love this show,” Carly sat down on the floor next to the teen during a commercial break. “Who do you think Gina will pick?”

“I don’t know,” Tiffany shrugged. “Probably Brandon,”

“Isn’t he the one who kissed Melissa?”

“Yea, but Gina doesn’t know that,”

“She never told her?”

“No,”

“What a bitch,” the two girls’ conversation was put on hold as the show resumed. Tiffany began to breathe again. Carly seemed cool enough- maybe she wouldn’t say anything at school.

“I love the way they have Gina’s hair braided on this show,” Tiffany said, having finished her sandwich and needing to break the silence.

“I’ll bet your hair is long enough to braid like that,” Carly said, looking over at Tiffany’s before messing with her own bob cut. “I can’t have any fun with mine during basketball season,”

“You think?” Tiffany played with a long strand of her brown hair.

“Sure, it’ll look great on you,” Carly positioned herself behind the younger girl and started getting a feel for its thin, silken strands. Her nimble fingers quickly began separating the locks and carefully interweaving them. Gradually, Tiffany became aware that Carly’s hands were reaching deeper into her hair. She relaxed and her relaxation was like a warm sensation spreading across her scalp. “Your hair is so beautiful,”

“That feels good,” Tiffany murmured.

“This style really looks nice on you,” Carly said, finished with her hair, but not with Tiffany. Her hands picked up pace, stimulating the nerves in her young patient’s scalp. “I took a few massage classes at the community college over the summer, just relax,”

“Sure,” Tiffany let out a deep breath and let the older girl continue her massage. The rhythmic waves of warmth worked their way down her neck. Before long, the Senior girl’s adroit digits had wandered down to Tiffany’s back, teasing and releasing the stresses that weigh so heavily on young shoulders. The warmth followed Carly’s hands, blood flowing into relaxed muscles. Suddenly, Tiffany realized that her back was not the only body part receiving more blood than usual. She began to feel very uncomfortable.

“Hmmm,” the babysitter hummed discouragingly, “Your bra straps are in the way, if you don’t mind taking it off, I could give you a back rub,”

“I don’t know…”

“Its okay, it’s just us girls and you’ll have a shirt on,” Carly’s hand returned to her shoulders. “It’d feel good, you’re so tense,”

“Okay, I guess,” Tiffany didn’t tell her, but the massage was the cause of at least some of her tension tonight. Still, Carly wasn’t the least bit ruffled. Maybe this is what the popular girls did. An image of the girl’s basketball team sitting around a room and rubbing each other’s tense muscles flashed through Tiffany’s mind and she felt a little weird. Still, the young girl reached behind her and unhooked her bra. Embarrassed by her less-than-womanly endowments, she quickly folded the A-cup and set it on the floor in front of her.

Carly really was an excellent masseuse, Tiffany thought as the older girl’s hands kneaded and teased her muscles. Gentle, yet firm, the teen felt her misgivings slipping away as the warmth spread through out her entire body. She didn’t even flinch as Carly slipped her hands under her shirt to apply her touch directly.

“Why don’t you show me your room?” Carly asked, withdrawing her hands from underneath Tiffany’s shirt.

“Sure,” the trembling teen nodded. Both girls stood up, and Tiffany noticed her bra still lying on the carpet. She picked it up and crumpled it in her hand. It would probably be best to leave it off, she reasoned, in case Carly wanted to continue her back rub latter.

Tiffany led her babysitter to the cramped back room that was her refuge and sanctuary. Appraising the decor with a critical eye, Tiffany winced at the flowery wallpaper and groaned inwardly at every pixie and unicorn. She suddenly realized that she hadn’t redecorated since junior-high, when she went through her “fairy tale period.” This was definitely going to seal her social doom.

“I don’t really like my room,” Tiffany said, suddenly realizing that she didn’t, “Everything is so old,”

“It’s very cute,” Carly said and smiled. Tiffany knew what she meant, ‘cute’ was the polar opposite of ‘cool.’ Dejected, the young woman sank into the edge of her bed while Carly checked out her CD collection. After a few moments, she joined Tiffany. “I remember when I was a freshman, it’s a really tough age,”

“I guess,”

“Everyone is still treating you like a little girl,” Carly’s hand returned to the younger girl’s back, rubbing her shoulders in slow circles. “They don’t realize that you’re a woman now,”

“Yea,” Tiffany was starting to feel uncomfortable again, but she didn’t want the Senior girl to stop.

“They don’t notice that you’re different now,” Carly’s hand slipped under Tiffany’s shirt. “You have new feelings, new needs,”

“Uh, huh,” It felt good to be close to Carly. Tiffany looked over at the older girl, her trim, athletic body in the full bloom of womanhood, while she was still waiting to bud. She was so cool, so pretty, everything Tiffany wanted to be. Suddenly, Carly’s warm touch disappeared.

“Lie down,” If the older girl had told her to lay an egg, Tiffany would have clucked like a chicken and tried her best. The freshman made herself comfortable on the bed, while Carly crawled between her legs. Tiffany could feel the heat coming off Carly’s body and the butterflies her stomach settled in the lower parts of her anatomy. “Take your clothes off,”

Tiffany got as far as pulling her shirt over her head before she was stopped by the bright azure eyes of her babysitter. She wasn’t so naive as to not know where this was probably leading, but what could she do? One of the prettiest, most popular girls in school wanted to be with her? Sure, Tiffany didn’t quite understand why, but there was a lot about being a woman she didn’t understand. Carly must have the answers, somewhere in those deep blue eyes.

“You’re very beautiful,” Carly said and bent down to kiss each of Tiffany’s stiff nipples, leaving a trail of saliva as her tongue traveled from one small bump to the other. When she looked up, she gave Tiffany a smile that raised goose pimples, then turned her gaze southward.

Tiffany had never dared to explore ‘down there,’ but Carly was fearless in her determination. The older girl unbuttoned Tiffany’s jean shorts and pulled them down, exposing the plain-Jane panties underneath. Brushing the cotton aside with a finger, Carly began slowly caressing the pink folds.

“Has anyone ever touched you like this?”

“No,” Tiffany arched her back and instinctively rubbed the tiny, teenaged bumps on her chest. This felt a million, trillion times better than anything she could have imagined. Her heart was pounding, her breath quick. Tiffany knew there was no turning back now. Her body was hungry. “Please, don’t stop,”

“You’re going to have to be quiet,” Carly said. “You don’t want to wake up your brothers,”

“Okay,” Tiffany clamped her lips shut, continuing to play with her nipples and gyrate her hips against Carly’s hand. She moaned a protest when Carly withdrew her touch, only to hum with surprise as the Senior pulled her jeans and panties the rest of the way off, leaving her naked on the bed save for her pink socks.

“Remember, not a peep,” Carly winked and crawled down Tiffany’s body until her face was right over the fifteen year old’s pink slit. Tiffany’s mind raced: Is she really going to kiss me there? Her question was soon forgotten as Carly leaned forward and gave the younger girl’s lower lips a long, loving lick.

“Oh, my God!” Tiffany couldn’t stop herself, she had never felt anything so electric in her life. Immediately, her hands left her breasts and clamped over her mouth.

“Now, now, your brothers are asleep,” Carly chided her. That’s not exactly helping, Tiffany thought. The idea that this was happening to her in the house she grew up, in the same bed where her parents used to read her bedtime stories only further inflamed the young woman. “If you can’t be quiet, I’ll stop,”

“I’m sorry,” Tiffany apologized, then closed her eyes and returned her hands to her adolescent bumps. “I’ll be quiet, I promise,”

Carly forgave her by once again dipping her tongue in the wetness between Tiffany’s legs. This time the young woman was a little more prepared for the overwhelming feelings. She did the best she could, although a little moan would squeak when her babysitter paused to suck on an outer lip or used her finger to explore the innermost folds.

Then, Carly’s tongue touched her clit.

Tiffany wanted to scream. She wanted to shout, to let everyone in a five block radius know that she had never felt anything so intense in all of her life. Tiffany wanted to wake up the whole damn neighborhood.  To scream and let them know she had become a woman. But she couldn’t... and having to hold it all in only made release more urgent.

She thrashed on the bed, finally grabbing a teddy bear and practically smothering her face with it. Still, Carly’s tongue was inside her and Tiffany didn’t know how much more she could take before her whole body just exploded like a balloon full of hormones and . Muffling her cries with the stuffed animal in her mouth, Tiffany gave in and let it all escape.

*    *    *

“How was everything tonight?” asked Mr. Spellman as he dug a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet.

“Oh, just fine,” Carly shrugged. She was terrified, standing in the living room, acting natural. Could he smell his daughter on her skin?  She had washed her face and hands obsessively, but swore the musk of lost innocence was still strong enough to permeate the entire room. “The twins were perfect angels,”

“Did Tiffany help you out?” Mrs. Spellman joined the interrogation, and Carly fought the urge to bolt out the door. “She can be very headstrong,”

“She was great,” the babysitter swallowed hard, another dead giveaway. “We put the others to bed, and I braided her hair,”

“Well, thanks again for helping out on such short notice,” Mr. Spellman smiled. “Have a good night,”

“Good night,” Carly waved goodbye and shoved the twenty into her purse. When she thought the Spellmans were no longer watching, she ran for her car. Sitting in the driver’s seat, she took five deep breaths. Why couldn’t she stop herself this time? Reaching for a pack of Marlboros, she realized her hands were shaking too badly to even light a cigarette. She had sworn that the Masterson girl would be the last.

“God, I’m going to be eighteen in a month,” Carly threw the pack of smokes on the floor and clutched her head. “This has got to stop,”

Finally regaining her composure, Carly threw the car into first gear and pulled out of the driveway. That was it, no more babysitting for her.

THE END