Unspoken Pleasure

NEW STORY: BUSTY BABY SITTER

Your comments are welcome

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Rachel was just pulling her coat on when John came down the stairs. He handed Rachel her payment in cash.

“Thank you, Mr. Greene.” Rachel smiled in gratitude.

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “You deserve every penny. Kathy and I are very happy with you. There is no one that we trust the kids with more than you.”

“Thank you, that means a lot. I love them like they’re my own. I would do anything for you guys.”

Rachel was starting to blush and was having a hard time meeting John’s gaze. For his part, John was having a hard time keeping his eyes away from Rachel’s exposed cleavage. Did she realize what she was doing? It was bad enough that her breasts were over-large on her small frame, jutting out from her chest like a pair of ripe melons. Why did she have to wear such revealing clothing? John was glad that she wasn’t meeting his gaze. He was embarrassed at his lack of self-control.

“Okay… I guess we’ll see you on Saturday then.” He cleared his throat and broke the awkward silence. How long had he been standing there trying not to look at her chest and not saying anything?

“Yes. I’ll be here at six p. m,” She managed to meet his eyes. “Bye, Mr. Greene.” She grabbed her purse and hurried out the door.

Do all high school seniors dress that way? He wondered. He had to remind himself that she was eighteen and could dress any damn way she chose. She was an adult now, although just barely. John stood there for a long time staring at the closed door, until his wife called to him from upstairs.

“Coming, honey,” he said. “Just turning out the lights and locking up down here.”

John dreamed of the busty little babysitter all night long and awoke with one of the hardest, most painful erections of his life. His wife had already left for work and he resigned himself to a cold shower. Not that she would have done anything, John thought. He was running late himself and barely made it to work on time. It was a long day and it took John most of it to clear his head.

The week progressed at a snail’s pace, but Saturday arrived at last. John’s wife had tickets to the opera and although John couldn’t think of anything he hated more, he resigned himself to his fate. It was bad enough that she always seemed to have a headache when there was a concert that John wanted to go to, but she expected him to attend all of her highbrow events.

The doorbell rang and John ran down the steps to open it. It was Rachel, and she couldn’t have worn a tighter shirt if she tried. It clung to her chest like a second skin. Her giant, gravity-defying tits were straining to burst right through it.

“H… uh…” John stammered. He started to shake and cough just like the old man in that famous book by Nabokov.

Rachel giggled. “Can I come in?”

“Yes!” he exclaimed a little too loudly. “Sorry, Rachel. It was a long week and I’m exhausted.” He stood to the side allowing her to saunter past him.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

“It’s okay, Mr. Greene.” She gave him a long look before turning her attention to the children who ran in from the back yard to greet her.

John went upstairs to finish getting ready. By the time he and his wife came downstairs, Rachel was busy playing with the children in the living room. He noticed that she had put on a cardigan that made her clothes look considerably more conservative. Was that for his wife’s benefit? Was she just trying to mess with him?

His wife was already out the door as John turned to give Rachel her final instructions. “We’ll be back after eleven sometime. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Rachel replied, giving John a huge smile. “Um… would it be okay if you could give me a ride home? My car isn’t running and my mom gave me a ride over here.”

“Yes. That would be fine.” John wondered if he could drive without sneaking glances over at her chest on the way to her house.

The opera was every bit as boring as John imagined it would be. He tried to put his arm around his wife a couple of times as they watched, but she brushed his hand off and gave him a look that told him how inappropriate he was being. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time she smiled at him, or laughed with him. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d had a conversation that didn’t entail her bitching at him for something.

He had been resigned to his fate for a while now. The marriage wasn’t all bad and there had been glimmers of hope that it might get better and then of course there were the children. They had tried counseling, but his wife wouldn’t do any of the actual work once they got home. She refused to talk to him about any of the issues that were raised in their sessions. She had the opinion that she was right about everything and wasn’t open to the chance that she could be wrong. He found himself thinking about Rachel during the opera and cursing himself for his thoughts.

At last the show was over. “That was an excellent performance, don’t you think?” his wife asked as they made their way out to the car. “Much better than that awful Foo Fighters rubbish you listen to.”

John thought it better to keep his thoughts to himself, and they drove home in silence. Why did she have to throw that little barb at him? As they pulled into the driveway, he reminded Kathy that he had to give Rachel a ride home.

Kathy snorted and then told him that he better not forget to pay her and not to wake her up when he got back. She grabbed her coat and went into the house in front of him, said a quick good-night and thank you to Rachel and disappeared up the stairs.

John followed her in the door, fished some cash out of his pocket and handed it to Rachel. She was just slipping on her flip-flops and smiling at him. She wasn’t wearing her cardigan.

“How were the kids?”

“They were perfect angels, just like always.”

“No problems?”

“Of course not, Mr. Greene,” she said. “They love me and you know that I love them.”

John thought that an odd response. “Well… you know we both adore you and thank you for watching them. Kathy was exhausted or she would have told you herself.”

“Oh, there’s no need to apologize for her, Mr. Greene,” Rachel answered.

That was another strange response. John was tired, though and didn’t let his mind linger on it. “Are you ready?”

“Oh, yes. I’m totally ready.” Rachel grinned at him.

John tried not to stare. Was she thrusting her chest out further on purpose? Her flat stomach was showing between the bottom of her shirt and her tight pants. John wondered if she was ever able to tuck her shirts in.