Loving the Babysitter

By: Cassandra Dee



It was exhausting getting Violet to bed, I admit. I’ve been babysitting the little girl for years, but in my four months away she’d become a handful.

“No Mandy,” she commanded imperiously, small voice firm. “You.”

I sighed again.

“Violet honey, this is your bed, I don’t sleep here, remember? I stay with my mom and dad at another house.”

And the little girl’s eyes began welling, bottom lip trembling, blue eyes so sorrowful it tore at my heart.

“Mandy, you!” she begged again.

This time, I gave in. God knows the little tyke had had enough upheaval recently, so I rested my head for a minute on the pillow next to hers, relaxing.

“Shhh,” I said in a soothing voice. “Okay, I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.”

And the little girl cuddled up next to me, teddy clutched in her hands.

“Sing,” she said in a small voice. And obediently, I began to hum Twinkle Twinkle Little Star softly, repeating until her breathing stilled, calming, the little body no longer tense. Poor thing. I really loved her, she was practically my baby, I’d known her since birth, watching her grow.

But I couldn’t stay in the small child’s bed all night, so I made myself get up and stretch. Violet’s room was decorated beautifully with lavender walls and stickers of the moon and stars that glowed-in-the-dark, perfect for a growing girl. And the books on the shelf were age appropriate, her toys right for a five year-old. Had Pete chosen those out for his daughter? He must have been spending a lot of time, picking up the slack now that the old nanny was gone.

As I wandered out into the hall, I let out another yawn. Finals had been tough, really challenging. College was kind of a toss-up for me. On the one hand, I should have been ecstatic, I got into my first choice school, a place with name recognition up the wazoo and brand prestige. But that stuff only goes so far because just like any other school, there were so many powerpoint lectures, slides that seemed to go on forever, and teachers that couldn’t even teach, they were hired for their research skills, not their ability to connect with undergrads.

But I scolded myself. I was lucky to be in college, and it was just finals that was doing this to me. I was worn out from weeks of stress and studying, and Mr. Parker had called my parents’ house the day that I got back about babysitting. I was just tired, that was all, and a bubble bath would soothe my achy muscles, dispel the tension in my back.

I glanced at my watch. Oh good, it was only eight, Mr. Parker had said he needed my services until nine. So I had plenty of time to get naked and relax, enjoy myself for an hour before heading home.

So wandering down the hallway, I came to ornate double doors that indicated the master bedroom suite. Oh my god, should I take a bath in his room? The thought titillated me, being in his private space, using the same soap and shampoo that the alpha male sudsed himself with.

But something stopped me. Maybe it was knowing that his ex-wife had once lived there, maybe it was my virginal instincts, but my hand paused on the knob, hesitating. Better not. Better to find another bathroom, there were plenty in this giant mansion.

So I tiptoed down the hall some more before coming to a guest suite, slowly creaking open the door. Oh, this was perfect. The bedroom was dark so I couldn’t see much except for a big bed and some looming, ominous furniture, but that didn’t matter. I padded softly through the room to the en suite and flipped the switch there, the lights coming on bright with a slight hum.

It was perfect. A huge garden tub sprawled in the corner, shiny and unused, with a separate shower on the other side. Just like everything in this house, the fixtures were ornate, the spigot a glossy gold color, the tub porcelain and bright white, almost blinding me.

And sighing with relief, I stripped. I wriggled out of my sweater, throwing it into a corner, and jumped a bit to get my skirt over my hips. Oh yeah, I’d put on significant weight in the past year and the freshman fifteen had come entirely in the first semester for me. So yeah, if I didn’t watch it, a new wardrobe would be in order.

But it was okay. Years of being twig-like made me appreciate my bountiful figure all the more, and I stared at myself in the mirror, eyes taking in my curvy form. Because yeah, I was wearing the sexiest, slinkiest bra and panty set ever. Blush pink with lace trimming the edges, the set was so sheer that you could see the dark imprints of my areola underneath, the plush lips of my labia outlined clearly. So with sensual hands, I unsnapped my bra, slipping the straps over my shoulders until the cups fell off, revealing my giant breasts, and slowly stepped out of my panties, pulling them off until my pink cunt was revealed.

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