Remember Your Old Babysitter
Title: “Remember Your Old Babysitter?”
As the suburban afternoon solar beat down on the pavement, a glossy black sedan pulled as much as the curb. Out stepped Sarah, a surprising blonde bombshell in her late thirties, wearing a tight-fitting spaghetti strap sundress that hugged her voluptuous curves. Her heels clicked sharply as she sauntered up the walkway to her household’s previous residence.
Sarah rang the doorbell, one completely manicured hand on her hip. Her different hand nervously twirled a lock of her lengthy, sun-kissed hair. After a second, the door creaked open to disclose a middle-aged girl with an expression of nice shock.
“Ayla!” Sarah exclaimed, her blue eyes glowing mischievously. “I can’t believe it’s really you after all these years! I was just telling my sister the other day how much I missed being babysat by you.”
Ayla, now in her fifties however nonetheless a horny girl, invited Sarah inside. As they entered the lounge, Sarah deliberately brushed up towards Ayla, by chance spilling her iced espresso on Ayla’s shirt within the course of.
“Oh Ayla, I’m so clumsy!” Sarah sympathized in exaggerated trend, already on her knees to wash up the mess. She pressed her face dangerously near Ayla’s crotch, palms greedy on the spilled liquid. “I’m afraid I’ve made quite a mess here. Perhaps I should come upstairs and help you change? For old time’s sake?”
Ayla hesitantly agreed, and the 2 ascended the flight of stairs to the washroom. As they entered the small area, Sarah casually closed the door behind them. She turned to face Ayla, trying up at her with a seductive gaze.
“You know Ayla,” Sarah purred, rising to her toes. “The way my sister told it, you used to let the neighborhood boys peek up your skirt while you were changing. I always thought that was so naughty, so exciting.”
Ayla’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushing crimson. Sarah took a step nearer, her breasts brushing towards Ayla’s arm.
“Tell me Ayla,” Sarah cooed, her lips inches from Ayla’s ear. “Is that how a proper baby-sitter should behave? Letting boys get an eyeful of what’s underneath that frilly little apron?”
Sarah reached out, slowly tracing a finger alongside the neckline of Ayla’s shirt. She may really feel Ayla trembling, hardly daring to breathe.
“Or perhaps,” Sarah whispered huskily, taking one other half-step ahead. “Perhaps when you babysat us, you let your cute little charges test out your suppleness in more…intimate ways?”
