BabySitter's Options

Simone stopped by the local coffee shop for an early morning cup. She couldn't really get into the day without one. She was surprised to find Debra sitting at one of the tables, munching on a croissant accompanied by an espresso.

Grabbing her own drink she sat at the table opposite Debra.

"I'm surprised to see you here this early," she said with a smile. "You usually try to sleep in until lunchtime on the weekends. What's with the early appearance and why do you seem slightly frazzled?"

"Probably because I'm feeling slightly frazzled," grumbled Debra. "I was up late last night but made up for it by getting up early this morning. I just wanted come coffee before I went home and caught some more sleep."

"What were you up to? Tell me all the salacious details. Auntie Simone can't wait to hear your story."

"It isn't much of a story. I had to babysit for the Fredericksons last night. They didn't know when they'd be home so I agreed to stay overnight if they didn't get home at a reasonable hour. I waited up until nearly midnight but they never showed so I went to bed."

"Uh huh. If I'm remembering the correct family she's quite nice and he's a meek little lamb and no danger to anyone's virtue."

"That's them," agreed Debra.

"So what are you leaving out? I know you're skipping something. How come the early rising?"

"The early rising? Oh, I just happened to wake up at about five. That's all."

"That's not all. If that was all you'd have just rolled over and gone back to sleep until the Fredericksons tipped the bed on the side to get you out of it. Why didn't you go back to sleep?"

"Well, I was going to, but I thought that seeing I was awake I'd just check on the kids quickly and I was also thirsty. I stuck my head in the kid's rooms and they were busy snoring their little heads off. Then I went to the kitchen and got a glass of water."

Debra shut up at that stage, trying to look innocent. Simone was having none of it.

"Give, bitch," she said. "Don't make me hurt you."

Debra sighed.

"Have you ever met Janet Frederickson's brother?" she asked.

"Ah, no. Can't say that I have. What's he like?"

Debra fanned her face.

"A hottie," she stated. "No two ways about it, he's a real honey. His name's Brandon."

"And what had Brandon got to do with your little story?"

"It turned out he stayed overnight, sleeping on the couch in the front room seeing that I had the spare room. He heard someone moving around and came out to check if the kids were up and running about. He found me in the kitchen in my pyjamas."

"Sounds interesting. What sort of pyjamas were you wearing? Shortie baby dolls, perchance?"

"While baby-sitting? As if. While the husbands might be trustworthy I see no reason to put temptation in their path. I had a pair of proper, full-length, pyjamas, I assure you."

"So why does that statement sound just a teeny-weeny bit sus?"

"Well," said Debra slowly, "they were my silk pyjamas. I like them. They're really comfortable."

"Those white silk pyjamas I've seen?"

Debra nodded.

"The ones that, while they look loose and free-flowing, cling to your body, moulding themselves against you like a lover's caress."

"They're not that bad," Debra protested, blushing.

"Ha! The way those things mould themselves to your body you could see if you've shaved or not if they chose to cling to the wrong place. I bet they highlighted your breasts very nicely."

"Well, yes, they do tend to cling slightly, but that's neither here nor there. They're very respectable pyjamas."

"In front of parents, possibly. How respectable did the brother find them?"

"Yes, well I was getting something out of the fridge when he came in. I was bent over and the first I knew of his presence was when he patted my bottom and told me I had a very nice tush."

"And what happened then?" asked Simone with a giggle.

"I promptly stood up and moved out of his reach of course."

"Uh-huh. So then you'd be facing him with that silk draped across your breasts. Did he comment on them or just go the grab?"

"Neither," said Debra with a slightly hunted look.

"Uh-huh," said Simone, and silently waited.

Debra glared at her.

Simone waited.

Debra sighed.

"All right," she snapped. "It turned out that my nipples were pressing against the silk. He just reached out and pressed his finger against first one and then the other and the rotten things promptly stood out and it was embarrassing the way they poked against the silk."

"And then?" came the giggled request.

"Then he took hold of my pyjama top at the sides and tugged it first one way and then the other," said Debra with a blush, demonstrating the back and forth movement with her hands. "I had this very fine silk brushing back and forth across my nipples. My nipples seemed to get even tighter and I nearly screamed. I did manage to slap his hands away though."

Amusement danced across Simone's face as she enjoyed Debra's embarrassment.

"I see. And then you rushed out of the kitchen and got dressed really, really, quickly?" she asked, tongue in cheek.

"Um, well, not exactly," admitted Debra, casting her mind back to what had happened.

- - -

"Do you mind?" she'd snapped at Brandon.

"Ah, no, not really," he said smiling, and a very nice smile it was, she noticed. "I quite enjoyed doing that, actually. So did your breasts from the way they've responded."

"If you'll excuse me," she said, not deigning to answer his comment, "I'm going back to my room."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said no, meaning that I won't excuse you. I prefer you to stay here."

"I am not particularly interested in your preferences."

"That's rather obvious. If you were you wouldn't be wearing pyjamas."

Debra gave him an irritated look and went to brush past him, only to have him put out a hand to stop her.

"Before you go," he said quickly, "I was wondering if you could do me a little favour?"

"What?" she asked suspiciously.

"Just a little thing. Take of your pyjamas so I can see what you really look like. The way those pyjamas cling to you is doing terrible things to my imagination. I just want to see how accurate my imagination is."

"You just want to see me naked, you mean," snapped Debra.

"That too," he admitted, still smiling.

"Not going to happen," she told him. "If I was stupid enough to take them off you'd be all over me like a rash. A particularly repulsive rash, at that."

"Hum. You've got me there. I have to admit that if I see you naked I won't be able to resist touching. It's all I can do not to touch right now."

Like he resisted long and hard, Debra thought, remembering the pat on the bottom and that finger pressing her nipples, not to mention dragging her top back and forth across her breasts.

"Yes, and I can guess where your touching would lead," she grumbled.

"Me too. Isn't it great that we're on the same wavelength? Ah, you can start taking your things off any time now."

"Not happening."

"Not?"

"Most definitely not."

"Oh. Well how about I offer you a few alternative?"

Debra just looked at him, suspicion radiating from her.

"Option one," he said smiling, "is you just lowering the back of your pyjamas so you have a bare bottom."

"That's stupid. I'm facing you. If I did that you wouldn't see anything anyway."

"Yes I would. I'd turn you around and bend you over the table. I'd see all that I need to see and you'd be nicely positioned for my attentions. Want to hear option two?"

"No."

"I thought you would," he said, blandly ignoring her reply. "Option two is you just push your pyjamas down to your knees. With this option I'll lean you back against the table and you'll be able to watch me molesting you. Um, option three?"

Debra glared and said nothing.

"The silent type. I like that. Option three we go back to my original proposition and you take off your pyjamas and put them to the side, along with your inhibitions. That's my preferred option."

He held up both his hands in a stop motion before Debra could say what she thought of option three.

"I know. I know. You don't care what my preferences are. Don't let it worry you. I still have two more options available."

Debra felt a little confused. So far his options had ranged from partial nudity to full nudity and she damn well knew what else he intended. What other options could there be?

"I can see you're wondering what other options there could be. I can think of dozens but I won't go into all of them right now. I'll keep it simple. Let's see, option four. You just stand there and I take your pyjamas off for you. Then you can tell yourself that whatever happens wasn't your fault, as I made you do it. That leaves option five as the final choice. You panic and run away to your bedroom crying that the big bad wolf is after you."

"Are you implying the big bad wolf isn't after me?" came the sarcastic query.

"Well, he is, but it's impolite to point it out."

Debra stood there glaring at Brandon. She wasn't taking any of his stupid options. She certainly wasn't going to run like a scared rabbit.

Brandon stood there regarding Debra with a smile on his face, waiting. After a few moments he nodded and moved closer to her. Reaching up he started undoing the buttons on Debra's pyjama top.

Debra hastily slapped at his hands.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Option four," Brandon calmly announced. "You haven't picked the first three options and you haven't run away so obviously you've gone for option four."

Even as he was speaking the last button popped free and he was brushing her top off her shoulders, leaving her breasts on display. Debra hastily cupped her own hands over her breasts, only to find them firmly removed and replaced with Brandon's.

"You take your hands off me," Debra demanded in a desperate whisper.

She swallowed nervously as his hands slid downwards, freeing her breasts but taking hold of her pyjama trousers. He wouldn't, she told herself. He wouldn't dare.

Her relief at finding Brandon wasn't pulling her trousers down was short-lived. Feeling silk sliding back and forth across her breasts and nipples had been bad enough. It was nothing to feeling the silk of her pyjamas rubbing across her mound as Brandon moved the material about. She bit her lip to stop herself from making any sounds as she had a horrible suspicion that he'd know what those sounds meant.

She pushed at him rather desperately. He just had to stop doing that. When he finally did stop and started pulling her trousers down she actually gave a small groan of relief. It was actually preferable to have her trousers taken down - anything was be better than that sweet torture of silk rubbing against her most sensitive flesh.

That relief lasted all of a second or two. Just to that point in time when she realised she was standing in front of a man, effectively naked, and that he was regarding her figure with admiration. And intention. His intention was plain upon his face. He could see the visible signs of her arousal and was looking pleased. Her eyes flicked downwards and she could see the signs of his intentions pressing against his own pyjamas.

He was already pushing his pyjamas down and her eyes moved smartly up to look into his eyes. She was slowly shaking her head, silently protesting, seeing him slowly nodding his, silently assuring her that this was going to happen.

Seeing Brandon starting to move closer to her Debra started backing up. Not very far though, as she found that first, it was hard to walk with your pyjama trousers tangled around your ankles and secondly, a kitchen bench was behind her, stopping her going any further. She gave a startled squeak when two strong hands closed around her waist, lifting her and sitting her on the bench.

Not only sitting her on the bench but pushing her knees apart and standing between them. A hand slid down her leg, brushing her pyjamas off that leg, giving him easier access. The hand came sliding back up her leg, zeroing in on her mound, closing over it and giving it a squeeze. His other hand brushed across her breasts, stimulating her nipples again. She leaned back a little, moving away from that hand on her breast, putting her own hands behind her on the bench to support herself.

"It's not often you find a kitchen bench that's at such a convenient height," murmured Brandon.

Glancing down Debra could see what he meant. She was seated on the edge of the bench, legs parted and completely exposed. And his groin was right there next to her. If they'd measured him they couldn't have got a better fit. All he had to do was aim and step forward and she was so screwed. There again, that was his intention.

She watched, softly saying, "No, no, no. You can't do this," hearing his amused reply of, "Yes, yes, yes. I can," while he adjusted the position of his erection, his cock already pressing lightly against her lips.

She gasped as he pressed forward a little, seeing and feeling his cock sinking into her. She was irritated to find that he'd aroused her enough to find entering her easily accomplished. He just pushed firmly against her and her lubricated passage just yielded right of way, and from the feel of it, happy to do so.

She glared at him, her outrage bouncing off his serene expression. Winking at her he started pumping, not hard and fast but smoothly and determinedly. She was moving in unison with him without even thinking about it.

Looking down she could see his cock sliding deep into her before slowly emerging, ready for its next run. It would start back in and she could see herself pushing against him, taking him deep, pressing against him to take him even deeper. Watching the erotic play of cock against pussy was adding to her excitement, not to mention what his cock was doing to her internally. She was breathing hard, no longer trying to avoid the hands that were rubbing her breasts.

She was taken completely by surprise when he suddenly stepped back, disengaging. She looked at him, not knowing what to think as he pulled her down off the counter. Then he was spinning her around, leaning her forward over the counter, his cock already seeking to re-enter her.

"Play time's over," he murmured in her ear. "Time to get serious."

Time to get serious? What the hell wasn't serious about what he'd just been doing? She found out very quickly.

Gone was the considerate Romeo who was happy to take his time. Enter Attila the Hun, ravaging all the lands of Earth. His hands clamped over her breasts, massaging them roughly, while his cock drove into her with force and determination.

His cock was now plunging into her almost ruthlessly, driving in hard, making her work hard to keep up with him. She was gasping and making little groaning sounds, sounds forced out of her by the force of his lovemaking.

Now that he was serious there was no respite for Debra. His cock was pounding her, exciting her, building on her arousal with every stroke and making sure he provided plenty of strokes. His hands were roughly handling her breasts, adding their own touch of excitement, his voice whispering about his pleasures in her ear. She wasn't sure how long he could keep up this sort of effort but it was quickly becoming irrelevant as far as Debra was concerned. She climaxed, quietly but strongly, shaking under the force of it.

She was dimly aware of Brandon slowing down. The stickiness she could feel inside her a sure indication that he had also climaxed.

- - -

"I see. And then you rushed out of the kitchen and got dressed really, really, quickly?" she asked, tongue in cheek.

"Um, well, not exactly," admitted Debra, casting her mind back to what had happened. "What actually happened was that he ripped off my pyjamas and raped me. I couldn't believe that he would do such a thing. To make matters worse he'd just finished assaulting me when Mrs Frederickson walked into the kitchen and caught us both naked and it was pretty obvious what had happened. Would you believe she blamed me for leading her little brother astray? I'll never be able to sit for them again."

"So what? You're way too old to waste your time baby-sitting. But why didn't you scream when he started taking your pyjamas off and assaulting you? There were other people in the house."

"Yes, I know, but if I'd screamed he'd have had to stop. What makes you think I wanted him to?"

Both girls looked at each other and started laughing.