When I was 16, I babysat for the family across the street, the Robertsons.  They had 4 kids who were incredibly sweet and well behaved.  Mrs. Robertson was very plain looking and a bit overweight.  Her husband was an Army recruiter, very fit, tall and extremely good looking.  He’s the reason I started to babysit his children.   I wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.  It didn’t work out that way, unfortunately.  Not at first.

I started to babysit every Friday night until about 1:00 a.m. until Mrs. Robertson came home from her nursing job.   Mr. Robertson usually went out with his friends on Friday nights and that’s why they hired me to watch the kids.   I never saw him on Fridays when I babysat; I assumed he got home well after the bars closed at 2:00 a.m.

One Friday night, however, Mr. Robertson came home unexpectedly early.   It was about 11:00 p.m. and the kids had long been tucked into bed.  I was eating Cheetos and sitting on the couch watching TV.  I heard the back door open and thought Mrs. Robertson must have left work early.  I walked into the kitchen and saw Mr. Robertson stumbling inside.  His eyes were bloodshot and his face was flushed.  I knew instantly that he was drunk.

“Oh.  Hi.” he said when he saw me standing there.  He set his keys down on the kitchen table and looked at me.  “That’s right.  You sit with the kids on Friday nights, don’t you?”  he said.

I  nodded my head.  “I thought you were Mrs. Robertson.  I thought she was home early.”  I watched as he sort of swayed a bit and he held on to the table for support.  He sure was shit-faced, I thought.  “Do you want me to leave or do you want me to wait for her to get home?” I asked.  

He sat on one of the kitchen chairs.  “Maybe you should stay.” he said.  Then with an embarrassed smile he added, “I’m not really in the condition to ensure the well-being of my children.”  

As I stood there looking at him, I realized how turned on I was getting.  Even though he was drunk, I found him really attractive.    “Sure, I’ll stay.”  I sat on a chair across from him and we stared into each other’s eyes for a few seconds.  To break the silence I asked him where he and his friends had gone to that night.  He named a strip club that was just outside of the city.  

“Does your wife know you go to strip clubs?”  I asked, raising my eyebrow in a judgmental fashion.  

He blinked in surprise, then chuckled.  “Uh… no….  I suppose I shouldn’t have said anything.”  He now started to look a bit nervous.  He didn’t know me at all.  He had no idea whether I would run blabbing to his wife or not.  I decided to take full advantage of the situation.

“My silence can be bought.”  I said dramatically and he laughed nervously.

“Oh?” he asked, leaning forward.  “And what’s your price?”  

“What do you tip those strippers for a lap dance?” I asked.  He told me he usually spent $500 per night on lap dances.  

“Great.  I’ll take $500.  AND you get a lap dance.”  I stood up and started to pull off my blouse but then stopped and looked at him.  “Do we have a deal?” I asked.

He was stunned.  His jaw actually dropped.  Without another word, he pulled out his wallet, counted out 5 one hundred dollar bills and put them on the table.  I pulled my blouse off and then pulled my shorts down.   I walked over to him and he put his hands on my ass.  He squeezed my ass cheeks and then lowered my panties.   As I straddled his lap, facing him, he pulled his dick out of his pants.  

“The girls at the strip bar let me fuck them.” he said.

“No they don’t.” I said.  “But I will.”  

I sat right down on his dick, my wet pussy sliding easily to the base of his cock.  He lifted his hips off the chair, raising me up and then he sat down again.  He kept thrusting upward, lifting me and slamming me back down onto his cock.  I held onto his shoulders and rocked my body back and forth, taking his big cock deep inside.  

I placed my feet on the floor and used my legs to bounce myself up and down on his dick.  His hands were on my ass the whole time, squeezing, spanking and finally he stuck his finger into my asshole.  I moaned loudly as I felt his finger probing me, wiggling and pushing in and out.  

He held me tight, stood up and started to bounce me up and down on his cock.  I held on tight, wrapping my arms and legs around his muscular body and enjoyed the ride.  He came inside me, yelling out so loudly, I was afraid he’d wake the children.  

From that night on, Mr. Robertson and I had a firm date every Friday night for a lap dance in the kitchen.  Not surprisingly, the rate increased every week but he happily paid.  Mine was the tightest pussy he had ever felt and on top of that, I knew how to keep a secret from his wife.

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