BabySitter and that DVD Player

It was supposed to be just another normal night sitting for some friends. Marge and Ken were due a night off and I had nothing on and so I volunteered to sit for them while they took off for a good night's fun.

Everything went fine. The kids had been fed by the time I got there and all I had to do was play with them for a while, dump them in the bath and then toss them into bed. (And clean up the bathroom. Have you seen what two toddlers can do to a bathroom?)

After the kids fell asleep I watched TV for a while. The usual dreck was on so I started looking through Marge's DVDs, hoping to find something that appealed. I found a couple I wanted to watch and all I had to do was stick one in the player and away I'd go.

That's when the fun started. Why, oh why, do people make entertainment units with the slot for the DVD player right down at the bottom? We're not midgets, happy to be working with objects that are at ankle height. Set up a perch for the player, so that it's higher. Chest height would be good. You can just stroll over, stick in your DVD and stroll back to your seat and watch. (Side benefit - very few toddlers can get their sticky fingers on items at chest height. Ankle height is another matter entirely.)

I selected the first DVD I wanted to watch, picked up the remote and pressed OPEN. It didn't. It'll be the battery, was my first thought, and switched the batteries between the TV remote and the DVD remote. I knew the TV remote worked so those batteries were good.

I pressed OPEN on the stupid remote, and it didn't. OK. DVD remote is cactus. Kids probably broke it. So I squat down to try and open the DVD player using the buttons on the side. Eventually found the OPEN button and pressed and the tray surged and tried to open, but couldn't.

I tried again, but this time I was ready to give the tray a helping hand when it tried to open. I managed to get a couple of fingernails behind the door of the tray and tugged. Did you know you can put biscuits into a DVD player? They may not play too well, but they do go in. Getting them out was a little messy, but I managed.

I believe I mentioned that the DVD player was at ankle height. No way had I been working on it by just bending down. I'd started by kneeling and progressed very rapidly to hands and knees, head down, bum up, and bad language sotto voce. (If the kids escaped the bedrooms I didn't want them to actually hear the words I was saying.)

But I was getting there. The tray slid open and closed like a charm. I prayed that the player hadn't actually been broken and was waving a hand around out to one side, scrabbling for the DVD I was going to play.

Perhaps I should add one little detail to the situation, which probably helps explain what happened next. Head down, bum up - this meant that my dress, which was a little on the shortish side, rode up my bottom somewhat, showing off my panties. Being the only person in the house this didn't particularly worry me.

Now as I was saying, I was scrabbling around for the DVD. You know what it's like. You know it's just there some place, and you can't be bothered twisting your head around to see precisely where, so you just grope around. You either find it or you say another naughty word and take a look.

That's when a hand settled gently onto my back and another hand glommed onto my pussy, poking at me through my panties. In hindsight, I suppose the hand that pressed against my back was very firmly placed, while the hand that poked me in the pussy gave quite a gentle caress. It was the locations of those hands that gave the emphasis to the way they felt.

As you can guess, when I felt a hand groping me in such a personal manner I squealed and tried to scramble to my feet. That's when I found that nice gentle touch on my back was a hand that was holding me very firmly in place.

That hand groping me through my panties was having fun. It was actively massaging me there, rubbing back and forth, and quite firmly, too.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I shrieked. "Get your hands off me!"

That was effective, that was. The creep totally ignored me, as though I hadn't spoken. He just kept on massaging and holding me in position. I tried to turn and see who it was, but all I could see was the impression of a very large man behind me.

My heart was racing and I was thinking along the lines of, "Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god. I am in deep shit. I'm being attacked. What do I do?" A good question, but I had no answer.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" came the question.

Who am I and what am I doing here? Shouldn't they be the questions I was asking?

"I'm Wendy. I'm sitting for Marge and Ken. They've gone out for a short while. They'll be back any moment now."

"Hmm. Somehow I doubt that. Not the Wendy or the sitting part, the getting back shortly part. If they've gone out tonight they're probably at the Johansen's do, and Marge won't want to leave for hours. She likes a nice party. How old are you, Wendy?"

"Eighteen. Now that you know everything about me, will you please tell me who you are and what you're doing here, and get your greasy paws off me."

"Oh, I'm Jack. Ken's brother. I just dropped in to say hullo to them. The front door was open so I just walked in. You really shouldn't leave the front door unlocked."

No kidding? Gee, I'd never have worked that out without his reminder.

"Um, your hands?"

Instead of removing his hand, the swine used it to pull my panties down, and then he was back to playing masseur.

"Will you get your hands off me?" I demanded.

"Um, no, I don't think so," he replied. "I'm enjoying this."

"Well, I'm not. Please stop."

Did he listen? Did he what? I might just have well saved my breath. What was worse he was doing more than just rubbing against me now. His fingers were sliding in between my lips and exploring inside me, rubbing and massaging.

"Listen, I don't like this," I said, trying to appeal to his better nature. "Please stop it."

"Nonsense. You're quite enjoying it. Do you think I can't feel how hot and wet you're becoming? I'll bet you like it if I do this."

Have you ever tried to scream with your mouth closed? That's what I did. His fingers touched something inside me that seemed to set off a minor explosion of some sort. My mouth snapped shut with shock at the same time as I tried to scream, resulting in me making a most peculiar sound.

"Mmm. I thought you'd like that. Would you like to try it again?"

I didn't get a chance to say no before his fingers were busy touching me in that place again, resulting in a second strangled scream.

"You are nice and sensitive, aren't you," he said approvingly. "You may be protesting a little but you like what's happening."

As far as I was concerned, it was irrelevant if I liked it or not. He shouldn't be doing it. He should just back off and leave me alone, and I told him so, giving a detailed description of him, his personal habits, his parents, and his ancestry to the nth degree.

He laughed and kept on massaging me.

After ages of torment he finally suggested that all good things must come to an end.

"You really want my hand gone?" he asked, and I nodded urgently. Damn right I did.

To my surprise it seemed he was actually removing his hand. He stopped stroking me and teasing me and apart from stretching my lips apart he was actually taking his hand away. Then his hand was gone and my stretched lips snapped back together and found themselves closing over a monster.

As soon as I felt my lips closing over that thing I knew what it was and I could feel myself turning pale.

"Don't you fucking dare," I gasped in horror, but I could already feel him pushing forward.

Have you ever had a hotdog at Wendy's? When they make them, they take the bun and skewer it on this fat steel spike. This makes it easy for them to insert the hotdog. I now knew exactly how those buns felt when they're jammed down on the spike. Jack's cock just came surging into me.

My virginity and my maidenhead (to put it delicately) were as nothing. I mean, what hymen has a chance against a big steel spike suddenly charging past? Mine gave up without even a struggle, one moment there, the next gone, never to be seen again.

I suppose, all things considered, he was surprisingly gentle in the way he took me. He was just determined, and his cock made sure I knew it. It firmly pushed its way along my passage, insisting that there was room, and my poor passage just stretched to fit on command.

"There you are," said Jack softly. "Doesn't that feel good?"

Did he honestly think I'd tell him if it felt good? Anyway, I wasn't sure if it felt good or not. It certainly felt different, but good or bad? If I had to say how it felt I think I'd say it felt natural. As though, yes, it belonged there. Not that I wanted it there.

He just left it sitting there, and he was busy pushing my dress higher. I don't know why, seeing he'd already stuck me with that thing. I found out when he'd pushed the dress as high as my bra. Busy little fingers unclipped the bra and pushed that and my dress higher still.

With bra and dress out of the way hungry hands closed over my breasts and started playing with them. I'll admit that I kind of like having my breasts touched. It's not that I've actively encouraged boys to grope them, but there may have been a time or two when I was a little slow to protest. This was the first time that I'd had a man actually hold both my bare breasts and start massaging them and rubbing my nipples. The fact that he also had his cock where it was added a whole new dimension to the experience.

Like it or not, I was feeling hot and excited and, I'll admit it, lustful. I was starting to want him to take me. I wanted him to stop stalling and start really taking me.

"Now don't forget to push," he told me, and I could feel his cock pulling out of me. What the hell did he mean, push, I wondered. I was still wondering when he stopped withdrawing and started sliding back into me, and with his words fresh in my mind I just sort of pushed towards him as he came.

"Good girl," he said, already pulling back for another run, and I felt this smug little self-congratulation on having got it right and pleased him. Then I felt furious with myself for being smug about pleasing him. Damn it, I wasn't supposed to be pleasing him.

There wasn't much I could do about it, though. As soon as I felt him driving back in, there I was, pushing to meet him again. This time I was feeling highly sensitive and his cock charging in seemed to be doing all sorts of wonderful things to me. I couldn't help squeaking when I felt him hit home, and couldn't wait for him to pull back and do it again.

He moved along right smartly, setting a pattern that I could follow easily, and I found myself rocking back and forth as he drove repeatedly into me, every thrust feeling better than the one before.

At the same time he was squeezing my breasts, massaging them in time to the tempo of his cock charging back and forth, and I could feel the excitement of my breasts reinforcing the excitement building up in my loins.

One of my girlfriends complained to me once that the whole thing was over before she really got going, and I'd sympathised, while not knowing what the hell she was talking about. Now I knew and I pitied her. She obviously needed to train her boyfriend to perform better. I was going along very nicely, thank you.

Mind you, if Jack finished before I completed my ride I would just naturally have to kill him. I hope he understood this. He was the one who started the whole business, after all.

It was about that stage that I lost all sense of coherent thought. All I knew was that Jack was driving into me and setting me on fire and that I was responding, meeting his every thrust with an eager push of my own.

All my attention was on this marvellous cock that was doing such delicious things to my body, seeming to be growing in size every time he came charging in. It just went on and on and on. Vaguely I was aware that I was panting and making funny noises, but that was irrelevant. All that concerned me was the fire inside me and it just kept on growing hotter.

When Jack suddenly started charging in like a berserk pile-driver I was taken totally by surprise. Not that I had a chance to react or anything. Whatever he did just pushed me over the top and I climaxed with one glorious burst, vaguely aware that Jack was also climaxing and then everything was just washed away by the feeling raging through me.

When I finally got my act together Jack was just standing there, smiling at me. I tried to glare at him but my heart just wasn't in it.

"Got to run, love," he said. "Tell Marge and Ken I dropped by, won't you."

Then he dropped a kiss on the top of my head and shot through.

I just stared after him, feeling somewhat stunned. Now what? The answer seemed simple. I went and had a shower. After that I watched a movie. Not the one I originally intended to watch. I just didn't feel like watch The Sound of Music anymore.

And the DVD remote worked like a charm. The problem had just been the biscuits.