As a former babysitter, I’ve got a lot of babysitter sex stories to share.
There’s always something intriguing about babysitter sex stories. A young girl with an older man to show her the way. At least, that’s how it was in my experience.
John Smith was my first “special” client. Before approaching him, I’d taken multiple other babysitting jobs, so his wife would see me as responsible. I had a schedule, CPR training, and impeccable references. And thanks to my neighbor, I’d had a lot of ability in seducing older men.
The wife was pleased with me, but John even more so. I could see his eyes follow me throughout the interview, as I picked up the kids, or as I discussed meal plans with his wife. They both worked late, she told me, so sometimes John would get home first, or she would get home first.
“I’m willing to stay a little later so you can unwind,” I told her. My willingness to work around their schedule was appreciated. Nodding in approval of my thoughtfulness, the wife thanked me. But in the corner of my eye, John’s eyes darkened. I got wet at the thought of seducing him. Babysitter sex stories were always my favorite, and now I had a chance to live one out in real-time.
The kids were well-behaved kids, nothing too difficult. The first week, John came home earlier than I was expecting for a Thursday. I had just put the kids to bed and was cleaning the kitchen when John walked in. Surprised, he looked me over, noting my short skirt and a tight t-shirt. Puffing out my chest a little, I informed him the kids were starting to fall asleep. He sat down at the kitchen table and asked for a juice.
That’s when I knew I had him.
Quickly I brought the glass of juice to him, leaning over his shoulder and pressing my boobs into his arm. “Anything I can do to help you relax?” I asked in his ear.
He trembled, shaking his head no.
“That’s fine. Just know I did mean anything.” Smiling to myself, I went back to the kitchen sink, spreading my legs out a little wider, letting him see the barest hint of ass under my skirt.
It didn’t take long before I felt him pressing his body behind me, pinning me to the sink. “Anything?” I heard him ask. His hard-on pressed against the cleft of my ass.
I met his eyes through the window, and took his hands and placed them under my shirt and onto my boobs. “Anything, John.”
Immediately he squeezed my tits, his hips thrusting into my backside. He kissed the nape of my neck and moved his mouth upwards to my ear, which caused me to gasp. “I’ve been wanting this since you came in our house,” he admitted hotly.
“For longer,” I told him. “Since you coached my volleyball team.” I couldn’t hold back; my hips rocked against his. “Please, please,” I begged him. “I’ve got to feel your cock inside me.”
“Greedy little slut, aren’t you?” His hands moved to his belt, though, and I heard the sound of a zipper. He was going to give me exactly what I needed: his big, thick cock.
I don’t suppose I need to tell you how this ends, do I? Rest assured, he was well-relaxed that night.
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