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Description: A classic Babysitter story part one of two
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[ from Kristen's collection ]
__________________________________________
WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age
(Under 18 years old) PLEASE DELETE THIS
FILE NOW!
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Scroll down to view Story
Archive name: (Kelli1.txt
Authors name: Hank Freeman
Story Title : 'Sitting for Kelli' Story 1780
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Contains: sex between adult male, and juvenile female. If
this subject offends you (and it should) or you are under
18 years old, please delete this file now!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~from Kristen's collection~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1 - D O I N G F A V O R S
---------------------------
At first I thought `what have I gotten myself into?' I had
agreed to baby-sit for the neighbors whenever they were
going out, since I was home alone in the evenings anyway.
I had made the mistake of telling Pete and Judith, who
lived in the adjacent townhouse, that my wife worked nights
and that I spent most evenings watching cable and playing
games on the computer. Their eyes had fairly lit up when I
said that, and they had immediately asked if I could baby-
sit their two kids from time to time, so they could get out
of the house. Ugh. How could I refuse? I'd just told them
I did nothing in the evenings, so I couldn't very well make
up an excuse now.
Their boy Jeff was twelve and Kelli, his older sister, was
fourteen. Were they sure these kids even needed a baby-
sitter? Kelli certainly looked old enough to take care of
Jeff, if he even needed any looking after. Judith was
adamant, though - kids should not be left alone. What if
someone broke in? What if there was a fire? Fine, fine, I
had said, though I had to wonder if someone *did* break in
if I would stick around to be of any use.
I arrived at 6:00, just after they had finished dinner.
Their place was pretty messy, especially compared to our
spotless home (my wife is a neatness fanatic), but I
assumed that was due to the presence of the kids. I expect-
ed a night of real horror after seeing the disarray around
me; `these kids must be monsters,' I thought.
Pete greeted me with a smile. "Say, Hank! We really appre-
ciate this, pal. We're finally going to get out on our own
for the first time in, god, how longs it been honey?"
Judith emerged from the kitchen, wearing an evening dress
with a plunging neckline. She was a nice looking lady for
someone 15 years my senior. "Forever," she said, and smiled
at me strangely.
"Yeah, forever. Anyway, we're going to Les Miserables and
then a late supper. Midnight too late for you?"
"No, not at all," I said, wincing internally. "My wife gets
home about then, so I'll just call her and tell her I may
be over here when she gets home."
As I was talking, I began to hear some decidedly loud
thumps coming from upstairs. Pete noticed me glancing at
the ceiling. "Kids!," he yelled up at the stucco, "knock it
off and get down here." I heard giggles and more rumbling,
then footsteps came running down the stairs.
Little Jeff emerged first. He was awfully short for his
age, and wiry. He really looked like a much younger kid
than he was. But then, Pete looked like a kid too, and he
was over 40. Genetics.
Right on Jeff's heels, and tugging on his hair, was Kelli.
If Jeff had looked half his true age, Kelli looked almost
twice hers. I remembered when that film director, Polanski,
got in trouble for messing around with a minor and he
claimed that he'd thought she was in her twenties. I had
taken an `oh, sure' attitude about that, but now I knew
what he meant.
Kelli was a lovely looking girl. She had an hourglass
figure, long smooth legs, large breasts for a 14-year-old,
and a face that reminded one incredibly of Elizabeth Taylor
in `National Velvet.' Or maybe Natalie Wood in some of her
younger roles. Her soft brown hair fell in lovely, loose,
natural curves all around her neck. And she was very tall
for 14 almost as tall as my wife. If I did not know better,
I would have bet she was 19 or 20. She was dressed in a
knee-length T-shirt with a picture of a teenage mutant
ninja turtle on it, and that combined with the roughhouse
play she was engaging in with her brother were the only
indications that this was a kid.
Pete made the kids stand still and he introduced them to
me. I had seen Jeff playing around the complex, but had
never met him or even seen Kelli.
"Hi," he said, looking away.
"Hi," Kelli said, looking me right in the eye. Her expres-
sion had a kind of boldness to it, but she still looked
terribly innocent.
I held that gaze for an uncomfortable moment, then looked
up to see that Pete and Judith had already started heading
for the door. "You kids be good - mind Mr. Freeman,"
Judith said, not looking. Pete followed her out the door
without a word. They told me nothing about who to call if
there was a problem, or any of the stuff I'd thought one
would tell a sitter. Pretty neglectful parents, I thought.
The kids showed it. For the first hour things were rocky.
These two just would not calm down. They wrestled, tumbled,
and ran over most of the house, and I felt weird telling
them to `settle down' and things like that. It made me feel
like my father, and hence rather old. I began to see why
the place was such a mess. I decided to retire to the TV
room and hoped the kids would get tired soon.
I was watching some nudie flick on the Playboy channel, and
things got reasonably quiet for a while. Then all of a
sudden I head a loud *bang* followed by crying.
I ran into the kitchen and saw Jeff lying next to the under
sink cabinet. I felt my heart jump when I saw the blood
running down his face. Kelli was standing next to him,
looking too innocent and doing nothing to help him.
"Damn!" I said, and hurried to check him out. As it turned
out, the cut was very small and looked far worse than it
actually was. I glared at Kelli as I was calming Jeff and
cleaning the cut with a paper towel.
"I didn't do anything," she said, indignantly.
"Sh-sh-she pushed me down!" Jeff said, sobbing.
"Nuh-uh! Did not!" Her voice was high and frantic. She'd
done it, of course.
The kids did that `did not, did too, did not' thing for
about a minute until I bellowed for them to shut up. Jeff
looked good as new once I got the blood out of his hair. I
could not even find the cut anymore. They went running off
to do more damage and I cleaned the spatters off the
kitchen floor, swearing to myself.
Before I could even get back to the TV room I heard another
thump, and more crying. This time it was Kelli who was the
victim. Jeff had obviously tripped her as she was running
up the wide carpeted stairs. She was laying in a heap on
the tile at the foot of the stairs, crying and holding her
knee.
`Dr. Hank, call to surgery,' I thought. I sent Jeff to his
room, rather angrily, and knelt to examine Kelli's knee.
Jeff ran up the stairs sulkily.
I could not help but notice that her long T-shirt had
ridden up to her waist, and as I checked out her left knee,
my eyes kept wandering to her white cotton panties. Her
sobs were subsiding as I ran my hands over her knee - there
was no damage that I could see. But I prolonged the moment,
my mind reeling madly as I noticed the tiny curls of pubic
hair that were peeking around the legbands of her under-
wear. All of a sudden I was being turned on by this girl,
my dick was hardening, my heart was beating faster, I felt
my breath coming shallow and quick. I could barely see the
folds of her labia, or imagined I could, through that thin
white material. My attentions to her knee had caused her
legs to spread slightly, and I found myself pushing the
knee farther, pretending to look for damage, watching
feverishly out the corner of my eye as the edge of her
pussy began to barely peak out from the elastic. I began to
slide my hand down a bit from her knee, feeling the taut
youthfulness of her thigh.
"Ow!" she said, and I looked up. I had spread her legs far
enough that she'd felt it. Her face was red with a blush.
"Um, your knee looks OK," I said.
"Thanks," she whispered, then bolted up the stairs. Had
she seen me looking at her pussy? I was not sure, but
something seemed to have made her react.
Confused and turned on, I returned to the TV room. The
Playboy channel was still on, showing some playmate who was
golfing in the nude. I switched off the idiotic thing and
sat in an easy chair, my mind filled with what had just
happened.
I was no child molester; that I knew for sure. Kelli's
young body had turned me on, but that was natural, wasn't
it? And all I had done was look - how could I help myself?
The girl was a knockout, though she clearly did not know
it. I mean, to have ignored that pretty little cunt when it
was staring me in the face would have been inhuman.
Wouldn't it?
My dick would not soften. I tried to think of mundane
things like work and gardening, but no matter how hard I
tried, my thoughts ran back to Kelli's thighs, Kelli's
pussy, Kelli's little hands wrapped around my cock shaft,
the sheer madness of sinking my prick, centimeter by centi-
meter into that tight little quim. Oh god, this was
insanity - how could I get this girl out of my head?
I turned the Playboy channel back on - they were showing a
softened version of some porno film. I took out my cock and
began to beat off feverishly. I turned the sound down so
I'd be sure to hear if the kids came downstairs. I shot off
in about a dozen strokes, pouring my sperm into a paper
napkin that was sitting on the end table.
2 - K E L L I'S C O S T U M E
-------------------------------
In the days that followed I found myself becoming increas-
ingly obsessed with Kelli, thinking almost constantly about
that moment at the foot of the stairs. Sometimes I could
almost convince myself that I had reached down and stroked
her pussy though her panties with my fingertips. Other
times I imagined ripping through that thin cotton material
and sinking my tongue into her tight twat. All of it was
bullshit, all of it drove me crazy.
I was almost too quick to agree with Pete and Judith when
they asked me to sit with the kids again. They did not seem
to notice my strange eagerness - but that was not too sur-
prising. When it came to their kids they seemed to notice
damned little.
It was the weekend before Halloween, and the kids were
fussing about their costumes. Pete and Judith had left
abruptly, again leaving me with no instructions, and I was
trying to help the kids, especially Kelli, to finish up
their costumes.
Jeff was going to be a cowboy. Easily done, all you need
is jeans and a plaid shirt, a cowboy hat, a six shooter in
a holster, and maybe some chaps. Jeff had all these things
but wanted to be a Marshall, so I made him a star out of
tinfoil. Kelli waited patiently for my help with her
costume, which was to be a female vampire. Once the star
was finished, Jeff ran off upstairs to look at himself in
the mirror and play in his new costume.
"I want to be a vampira," Kelli said, holding out a black
swath of material. The swath was actually an extremely
slinky, tight nylon dress that she'd borrowed from her
mother. She also said she had a set of false fangs she'd
bought at the novelty store, and a black wig an aunt had
given her for a witch costume the previous year.
"Well," I said, "if this is your mom's dress I doubt it
will fit you. She's a lot bigger than you." I glanced at
Kelli's chest. "Taller, I mean..."
"I also need a cape, and I don't know where I'm going to
get that." She looked dejected.
"Well, let's take one thing at a time. Have you tried the
dress on?"
She shook her head no.
"OK, well let's see how it fits."
I expected her to go off somewhere and put the dress on,
then return so I could see the fit. Naturally, in that
part of my mind that was still remembering her little wispy
hairs peeking out the edge of her panties, I wanted her to
change right there in front of me. What I got was something
in between. She went behind a sort of Japanese screen they
had near the fireplace, and took off her jumper. But the
glass door of the fireplace made a pretty good mirror, and
I had a darkened, but reasonable view of her as she slipped
the dress on. I did not see much, since she wore a bra and
panties, but I was struck by how slim her waist was. I
thought I might be able to get my hands around it complete-
ly, thumbs touching in front, middle finger s in back. I
felt myself getting hard again, especially when I noticed
how strained her bra was. Her mom had not noticed how much
Kelli had grown and bought her a larger size. Her appear-
ance in that tight bra was extremely sexy, since it
emphasized the fact that she was just then blossoming into
womanhood.
She came out from behind the screen. The dress, which was
obviously intended to be mid-calf length, piled up on the
floor, and the waist was somewhere between her hips and her
knees. Not the proper effect, but sexy as hell since the
neckline, already intended to plunge, was almost to her
navel. We tried and tried to adjust the dress, and during
this time I had several chances to run my hand over her
tummy and the small of her back. The feel of her was
fantastic - so smooth and firm. I suggested that we might
be able to bring the dress up by shortening the shoulder
straps, and while standing behind her I demonstrated by
pulling the dress up by the straps. I watched that silky
black material slide over her body, and my boner became a
real problem. I sat down quickly while Kelli held the
straps up and knotted them.
"This should work, though the knots will look funny." She
noticed my distress. "Are you OK Mr. Freeman?"
"Yeah, sure. Just a leg cramp." I doubled over to massage
my leg, and also effectively hid my hardon.
"What do we do about the cape?" she asked.
"Well, I think I have a black bed sheet that will work,
though you'll have to give it back." I was still rubbing
my leg, and watching her curves through that dress. I was
hoping she'd leave to play, like Jeff, so I could take care
of my problem.
"You have black sheets?" she asked, amazed.
"Sure. Other colors too. So?"
"I thought they were always white." She shrugged. "Well,
thanks. That pretty much does it I guess." Without
another word she walked out the door and I heard her
ascend the stairs.
I did not wait a second. I whipped out my painfully hard
erection and flicked on the Playboy channel with the
remote. They were showing, oddly enough, a woman dressed
as a vampire, but with nothing underneath the cape. As she
spread her cape wide, she undulated her hips and heaved
her breasts as she hissed. Pretty sexy stuff. I began to
stroke my cock slowly, trying to enjoy the sensation and
imagine Kelli was the vampire, beckoning be to fucked by
curling her black tipped fingers.
I had not turned the sound down. So I did not hear when
she came back into the room.
Suddenly I heard a gasp behind me. Without thinking I
whirled around, and there was Kelli. She had retrieved her
false fangs and had put them in her mouth. She'd also put
on the black wig. Obviously she wanted to show me the
costume - and now she was standing there stock still,
staring at the hard cock in my hand.
I should have tried to hide myself, or cram my dick back
into my pants, but I was too stunned to do anything for
several seconds. Kelli had started to say "I vant to suck
your blooood", in a Beli Lugosi-type voice, and had said
simply "I want to suck your..." before I had turned around
and had stopped her in her tracks. Now the irony and
sexiness of that partial statement caught me, and I was
just stuck there, sitting like an idiot with my dick in my
hand.
"God," she said, finally. Her voice brought me back to
reality. I hurriedly turned around and painfully jammed my
shrinking dick back into my pants. I muttered some kind of
apology, but by the time I turned back around she was
gone. I heard her running up the stairs. The wig and the
fangs were on the floor.
What to do? My mind was totally divided between two
terribly conflicting ideas. One half of me was still
incredibly aroused by the memory of Kelli standing there
staring at my penis and telling me she wanted to suck me,
even though I knew that it was an accident of fate that
put those words into her mouth. My other half was
terrified of what might happen if she reported the inci-
dent to her parents. At best they'd get pissed and maybe
tell my wife. At worst I could end up talking to the
police. I decided I'd better talk to her about the whole
thing and make sure she understood that I did not mean her
to see me like that.
I cautiously went upstairs. I checked in on Jeff first and
found that he'd fallen asleep in his cowboy outfit, lying
on top of the covers. I covered him as best I could with
the bedspread, which was balled up on the floor and looked
as though it had been there for some time, then turned off
his light and closed the door to his room. Kelli's room
was on the other side of the bathroom, a bit down the
hall.
As I walked the short distance to her door I went through
all the things I might say, in my mind. Nothing seemed to
sound right, though, and I decided to play it by ear. I
had no idea how experienced she was or what she knew about
men and sex. 14 is a nebulous age; some girls have even
had sex by then. Others have barely thought about it.
Kelli's room was dimly lit from a desk lamp in one corner.
Like the rest of the house, her room was a disheveled
mess, though she had left no clothing on the floor as her
brother had. Mostly there were stuffed animals and maga-
zines everywhere. Kelli was sitting in a window seat and
staring outside when I came into her room. When she turned
to look at me her face was a mixture of confusion and
defense.
I crossed the room and sat on her bed - I did not consider
that to be lascivious at the time, it was simply the far-
thest spot from her and I did not want to be threatening.
Looking back, I suppose the symbolism was pretty strong.
She went back to staring out the window and I realized
that I was going to have to speak first.
"Kelli," I began, "I'm really sorry about what just
happened. I didn't mean for you to see me like that."
She said nothing for a moment, and I was about to try and
phrase it another way when she said: "I know. I'm always
doing that."
Doing what? Make grown men jack off? "Always doing what?"
"Always interrupting private stuff. Like with my mom and
dad." She looked terribly glum.
"You walked in on them in bed?"
"They weren't in bed - they were in front of the fireplace
and I just wanted to get my Tiger Beast that I'd left on
the TV set and I walked in and saw them.... doing it.
Sort of."
"Oh." Sort of? How can you do it `sort of'?
"Anyway, my dad got really mad and told me I was a peeking
tom and mom got even madder and wouldn't talk to me." Her
face dropped from glum to positively sad and I felt truly
sorry for her, though her reference to `peeking tom' was
cute enough to make me smile a little.
"Well, you couldn't help it. You didn't know."
"Another time," she continued, almost ignoring me, "was
with Jenny, our old baby-sitter. I came downstairs late
because I forgot to take my vitamin B for flea bites and I
saw her with this boy... on the stairs. I had never seen
the boy before, but they were doing stuff and they got
really mad too. They made me promise not to tell or they'd
tell my parents I was touching myself or something. I was
scared already. I wouldn't have told."
She looked at me, a sort of pleading in her eyes. "I'm not
trying to see anything. It just keeps happening to me.
Don't be mad, OK?" There was a tear running down her left
cheek.
Amazement turned to relief. She was more concerned with
what I might say to her parents - she had not even con-
sidered saying anything herself. I stepped over to her
and put an arm around her shoulder. "I'm not mad, Kelli.
Not at all. It was not anyone's fault; just a mistake.
I'm sorry I made you sad and made you think about those
other times. Why don't we just forget about it?"
She smiled. "Thanks Mr. Freeman."
"Call me Hank."
She blushed a little, then all of a sudden gave me a very
womanly look. "Thanks, Hank."
"No problem. Good night."
I started to leave, and had gotten to the door when she
asked me: "Can I ask you a sort of personal question,
Hank?"
I turned. She was still sitting at the window seat, but
had turned to face the room. The straps on the dress and
slipped back, and the neckline hung low on her. I could
see the lacy trim of her bra above the scoop, and could
see the tops of her breasts rising out of the one-size-too
small cups. I sat on the floor near the door and brought
my knees up, looking casual but hiding my rekindled
erection.
"Shoot," I said, trying to sound totally at ease.
"Well, um. I was wondering... Well, if you don't want to
tell me it's OK, but..."
"Ask away, Kelli. You've seen everything I have to hide
already."
She laughed embarrassedly into her hand. "Um, well. I
have seen a guy's.. thing.. three times. And, well, I just
wondered how come when you wear pants it doesn't, like,
show. Like a tent. You know... poke out, like..."
She thought men were in a perpetual state of erection
since she'd only seen dicks when they were hard. Sorry to
have to break the bad news to you kid...
"Well," I said, "a man is not always hard. Most of the
time it just sort of... hangs there."
She giggled. "Oh. Really? Well, then... but... uh...
I don't know. I mean, how does it... um...." She
obviously wanted to know what made men hard, but was too
shy to ask.
I held up my hand. "It's like this. When a guy gets
aroused - sexually excited, like when your baby-sitter and
her boyfriend were fooling around on the stairs - then the
guy gets hard, like you saw."
"It... gets hard?"
"Sure. Just sort of swells up and gets really stiff. Don't
they teach you this stuff in health class?"
She shook her head. "Your parents have to sign a thing,
and my mom wouldn't. Well, I think maybe she lost it. So,
does it hurt when it's like that?"
This was strange, this beautiful little girl was asking me
intimate details about my cock. If it were an older girl
I was having such a conversation with, I would have
assumed we were in for some action; I had to remind myself
that this one was only a kid. "No. Not really. It's very
sensitive, though. Like when your leg goes to sleep and is
just waking up, you feel everything like little tingles?"
"Yeah, that's a weird feeling," she nodded her head.
"Well, that's sort of the feeling, but nicer."
There was a very heavy silence for a moment, as she turned
away, then back to face me, then away again. Finally, she
said "so my dad got excited because my mom had his thing
in her mouth." Ah, so that was doing it `sort of.' "And
that boy was excited from putting his thing up against
Jenny's poochy..."
"Poochy?"
"You know. Down there."
"Oh. You mean pussy."
"Oh? OK, well... pussy." She blushed a deep red. My
rising boner jumped a bit at hearing her say that word.
"Anyway, so um, so why did you? Get excited I mean. Was
it that TV show with the naked vampire lady?"
This was a key moment. I did not want to lie to her, but I
did not want to scare her either. I had avoided a major
possible disaster, and it was not a good time to plunge
back in. "No. And I don't think we should talk about this
anymore, Kelli." I got up and turned to the door.
She rose, panic in her voice. "Did I say something wrong?
I'm sorry. I was just curious. Don't be mad..."
Over my shoulder, against my better judgment, I said "It
was you, Kelli. I saw you changing clothes in the glass
fireplace door. That's what made me hard. I'm not mad."
I closed the door and walked downstairs.
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