Dressed in only a sheer pink babydoll that barely covers my buttcheeks with no panties underneath, I walk barefoot downstairs and into the kitchen, where my babysitter, Mrs. Jones, is slicing up fruit for breakfast. Her hips sway in a seductive rhythm as she hums a soft melody.
My mother's silken robe clings to her supple figure like a second skin, accentuating every curve. I can't help but notice how she's pinned her red hair up in an artfully messy bun, revealing the graceful curve of her neck. Her emerald eyes widen in surprise as she catches me staring, a warm smile spreading across her face.
With a coy smirk, her gaze sweeps over me, lingering on my perky breasts. The sheer lace can barely contain my stiff nipples, which beg to be touched, and as the fabric delicately grazes them, my rosy areolas peek out teasingly. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I feel her eyes on me, and all I want is for her to play with me again.
Without missing a beat, Mrs. Jones hands me a plate of freshly cut fruit and purrs, "You look good enough to eat, my sweet little girl."
I can't help but blush a little at her remark, a rush of excitement coursing through me in response to her flirtation. Mrs. Jones winks at me and sits on the stool next to the kitchen island, crossing her legs while biting into a juicy strawberry.
She eats the fruit slowly, savoring each bite, while I just watch her, my plate forgotten in front of me. I don't feel hungry, at least not for food, because my appetite has shifted to something entirely different in her presence.
As I take a seat beside her, Mrs. Jones chuckles and extends her hand toward me. "You've got a little juice there," she remarks, amused.
With a teasing smile, she delicately wipes the traces of her wetness from my chin. As she holds my gaze, images of her velvet folds come to mind, and I can still taste the salty, tangy flavor of her essence on my lips.
"Care for a taste?" Mrs. Jones purrs.
I'm not sure what she is offering until she picks up a strawberry and holds it to my lips, her eyes dark with desire. I take a bite, savoring the sweetness that lingers on my tongue, wishing Mrs. Jones was offering me her pussy instead.
Her gaze pierces through me, as if she can read the dirty thoughts that consume me. With a deliberate movement, she brings the succulent fruit to her lips and slowly runs her tongue along its length, savoring every drop of juice that drips down her delicate fingers. The memory of how her tongue swirled around my clit and her fingers teased my core last night suddenly floods my mind. My vaginal walls clench in response, aching for her touch as much as I ache for the taste of the strawberry on her lips.
"Your mom mentioned you are dating a boy," Mrs. Jones casually mentions, leaning back in her chair, breaking the intimate moment between us.
"Was," I emphasize. "Ben and I ended things last week."
To be honest, I'm not that upset about it. I basically dated him because my parents approved, and well, I wanted to lose my virginity because I was the only one in my friend group who hadn't yet.
Mrs. Jones' eyes are bright with interest. "I'm sorry to hear that, sweety. How long have you two been dating?"
"For about a year."
"That is a long time," she says, her voice filled with sympathy. "And breaking up right before your 18th birthday must have been really hard."
Not really. The jerk got caught sneaking out to see me and then threw me under the bus. His parents labeled me a bad influence and complained to mine, so I broke up with him. Thanks to Ben, instead of throwing a huge party for my 18th while my parents are out of town, I'm stuck spending the weekend with Mrs. Jones babysitting me. I guess I owe him one, huh?
"It's okay, Mrs. Jones. It was a mutual decision," I reply, trying to sound nonchalant. "I'm actually relieved it's over."
"Oh," she responds, looking slightly surprised. "Was he your first boyfriend?"
"Yes, he was," I admit, my voice straining from her probing questions.
Mrs. Jones nods. "Did you lose your virginity with him?" Her brow furrows slightly, as if she is waiting for my reaction.
A blush creeps up my neck. "Um, yes," I stammer, secretly wishing the ground would just swallow me up.
Mrs. Jones leans in, her voice lowering. "You did use protection, right?"
I squirm in my seat, her directness piercing through me. "Yes, I'm on the pill," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.
She nods, a look of approval in her eyes. "Smart girl."
I rush to add, "But please, don't tell my mom!" My parents still believe I am a virgin. They have no idea I've even been to a gynecologist.
Mrs. Jones chuckles softly. "All your secrets are safe with me, sweetheart."
I sigh with relief. "Thank you."
"No need to worry," Mrs. Jones reassures me. "So, about John—"
Cutting her off, I hastily add, "And I won't say a word to anyone about you having sex with the coach."
Mrs. Jones nods, a warm smile spreading across her face. "I appreciate that, honey. I really enjoy spending time with him. John makes me feel young and attractive again." She pauses, her gaze meeting mine with a mischievous glint. "He's incredibly hot, don't you think?"
For a man in his thirties, the coach carried himself as if in his prime, his rugged charm effortlessly attracting the attention of every girl around him—I wasn't immune to it either.
"Every girl on the team seems to have a crush on him," I say, carefully avoiding revealing my admiration for the coach.
Mrs. Jones laughs heartily. "Well, I can't blame them. He's quite a stud. Have you seen his abs? Like a washboard, I tell you!"
I let out a nervous chuckle, eager to keep my own crush on him a secret. "Yeah, he definitely takes care of himself," I reply, hoping my casual response hides my true feelings.
Mrs. Jones grins mischievously and says, "Let me tell you about his cock. It's as divine as a Greek god's!"
I can feel my face flush at her suggestive words.
"It's so thick, and he knows just how to use it," Mrs. Jones adds, leaning in closer as if sharing a scandalous secret. "You'd have to experience it for yourself to truly understand," she teases with a wink, leaving me completely flustered.
"Umm," I stammer, scrambling for a way to change the topic. "He's a great motivator and really pushes us to do our best," I blurt out, hoping to guide the conversation towards his professional attributes. But all I can think about is his "divine" cock, which I glimpsed through the keyhole in my parents' bedroom while spying on him having sex with Mrs. Jones.
Mrs. Jones nods. "John certainly knows how to bring out the best in his girls. Both on and off the field," she adds with a wide smile, making me blush even more. Popping a grape into her mouth, Mrs. Jones smirks. "So, how was Ben in bed?"
Oh god… She isn't going to drop this topic, is she? "He was… okay."
Mrs. Jones raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by my response. "Just okay?" she probes, clearly expecting more.
"I never had an orgasm with him," I admit, feeling a rush of embarrassment.
"No! Really?"
I nod. "Ben was… well, he was quick to finish."
"It makes sense. After all, you're quite stunning." Mrs. Jones pauses, allowing the compliment to sink in before adding, "I'd wager that boy was simply out of his depth with you." She gives a knowing smile and casually reaches for another grape. "Well, John is quite the attentive lover. He always ensures my satisfaction, unlike my husband, who neglects my needs entirely," Mrs. Jones remarks with a hint of disappointment, her smile fading as she speaks.
I fidget in my seat, my mind consumed with images of the coach ravishing me just like he did her. The heat between my thighs builds, causing a tingling sensation to spread throughout my body. All I can think about is the coach's muscular hands on my skin, his lips on mine, and how his cock would feel inside me.
"It's refreshing to be with someone who cares about my pleasure," Mrs. Jones adds, her smile suggestive as she gazes at me. She reaches out, her fingers tracing lightly along my jawline. "You were amazing this morning."
I can't help but feel a surge of pride at her words.
"So," Mrs. Jones continues, her fingers now moving down my chest, "I'm curious about Ben. How far did you go with him?"
I swallow nervously, not expecting this turn in the conversation. "Erm… We did just the usual stuff…"
"You mean vaginal penetration?"
I clear my throat, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "Yes."
Despite my obvious discomfort, Mrs. Jones asks, "Did you ever give a blowjob to Ben?"
I clear my throat. "Um, no, I didn't."
"Hmm."
Her fingers graze lightly across my left breast, my nipple hardening under her touch. My breath hitches as she expertly tugs and twists the delicate bud between her thumb and forefinger, making my knees weak. The heat pooling between my thighs intensifies as she leans in closer, her warm breath tickling my lips.