It happened on a Friday afternoon. Fortunately I was at home at the time. Beth and the kids were out playing in the back yard. Beth made a grab to the right just as her target swung left. Beth made a hasty readjustment, trod on a stone of a tuft of grass or maybe even a shadow, and her foot buckled under her.
She went down in a screaming heap. A very ladylike scream, but still a scream. Unfortunately, it was a scream of pain, not surprise. When I got out there her ankle was already swelling like a balloon.
Following a trip to the doctor we had ourselves a little problem. Beth was to stay off the foot for a minimum of forty eight hours. Not too bad on a weekend as I would normally be home. This weekend I had a series of appointments that I couldn't put off and couldn't attend with kids in tow. Beth, as in all household crises, had the answer.
She would arrange a babysitter to stay the weekend. We had a guest room so there would be no problems. She happened to know that Dianne, one of our more regular sitters, was saving for a trip overseas, so she would probably jump at the chance for a weekend's work.
I hadn't really noticed Dianne around recently. When she's been sitting for us it was normally a case that we'd pass each other at the door, her arriving and me leaving, sort of thing. Now she was around me full time and boy, hasn't that young lady grown somewhat.
If asked to describe her I'd have given a description of a middle teens, young, pretty and starting to blossom. The reality nowadays was a late teens, nineteen, maybe even twenty, very pretty and she had blossomed into a delightful flower. When she arrived at the door in tight shorts and top it was a case of instant lust.
It was also acute consciousness that I had a wife right there in the kitchen, so watch it buddy. I smiled and invited her in. She smiled back and entered and in no time at all was making herself useful. The kids love her and Beth gets on well with her.
The weekend passed. I made all my appointments, Dianne looked after the kids and Beth rested her ankle. I also got incredibly horny every time I saw Dianne, but I won't mention that.
At first I thought it was my imagination. Wishful thinking on my part. Slowly it dawned on me that Dianne was actually trying to flirt with me. Trying, hell. She was deliberately flirting with me and teasing me, and seemed to get a real kick out of it. There was nothing you could point to, or object to, but we both knew it was going on. I, of course, did not reciprocate. Well, I did find out that her breasts were incredibly soft, but that was purely by accident.
On Sunday afternoon all my appointments were concluded and I was at home, relaxing in the yard with Beth and the kids, with Dianne doing the bulk of the work entertaining them. We had an inflatable pool and Dianne and the kids were romping around in it. Dianne was wearing a one piece bathing costume. People who think bikinis are sexy have obviously never seen a well-endowed young lady in a one piece costume that I would swear was at least one size too small.
That's when we had our second accident. Stepping out of the pool, Dianne caught her toe on it and came down flat on her face, landing quite hard. On the grass, fortunately, and not the concrete path. Unhurt, but obviously shaken up. Beth told me to take her inside and make her lie down for a while. I shrugged mentally and escorted her into the house, hurrying back to Beth and the kids.
I promptly copped a serve from Beth. She could watch the kids for a few minutes. I could use my time better making sure that Dianne didn't actually hurt herself. She'd go herself, but her foot. . .
