Marlene was our baby-sitter. She was a very nice young lady and had been sitting for us since she was about fifteen. She's now eighteen and I suspect that she won't be sitting for us much longer. She has more important things to do with her time and can get better money with a steady job. I know she's looking for one.
I'd seen her grow from a child into a young adult, and a very attractive young adult at that. She had that intangible that they call charisma which just naturally attracted a swarm of boys. I will admit that having a D cup, blonde hair, and an athletic figure didn't hurt. I've always thought she should become a professional jogger. I'd pay good money to see her jogging, eagerly placing wagers on how long it takes her breasts to stop bouncing after she stops jogging.
Ever since I've known her Marlene has been a flirtatious little thing. Quite innocently when she was fifteen, not even knowing what she was doing, but at eighteen not quite as innocent. I think she quite enjoyed getting a rise out of a man.
I'm not implying that she intended to follow through on her flirting and she certainly wasn't an exhibitionist with it. The clothes she bought weren't trampy in any way, even if they did show off her figure to its best, and its best was something else.
Whether she was a virgin or not was none of my business but if I had to take a guess I was going to go with not. The reason I say this was because of a subtle change in her flirting, making me believe she was much more aware of her body and what it could do.
She had a current boyfriend. I'd seen her with him a time or two down at the mall. His name, I believe, was Tony, but I tended to think of him as shithead or that asshole. My opinion of shithead was not what you could call high.
One Friday I had to attend a team meeting with the local football club. I'd let my wife know but she forgot (deliberately) and arranged to go on a hen's night on the same evening. Not a problem. That's what people like Marlene are for. Beth rang up and arranged for her to come over for the evening. After arranging for Marlene to sit Beth calmly informed me that whichever of us got home first could pay her. Being quite fluent in wife-speak I took this to mean that she'd be out late and I'd have to pay Marlene.
Friday rolled around and Marlene rolled up. Marlene seemed to be a bit on the frisky side, happily doing some subtle flirting. Nothing you could put your finger on or take objection to, but the flirting was there. As soon as she was settled in with the children Beth and I went our separate ways.
I was in an odd mood when I got back home. What sort of odd mood? Damned if I know. Just odd. I arrived home, waved to Marlene who was watching TV, and snuck down to check that the monsters were happily asleep, which they were.
Returning I found that Marlene had moved to the kitchen and put the kettle on, preparing coffee for us. We sat and drank our coffee and chatted. At least, I chatted. Marlene was trying out her latest range of flirting weaponry, head down slightly but looking at me through raised eyes, demure look with a bit of gentle batting of her eyelashes, a few exchanges that seemed quite innocent but could be taken two ways, all of it done in such an innocent manner that a man would have to be a heel to take it the wrong way.
I guess that makes me a heel. I knew just what she was doing and quite enjoyed it, subtly egging her on. She was getting quite a kick out of trying out her wiles on an older man.
We finished our coffee and Marlene rose and rinsed the mugs, leaving them on the sink to drain.
"Before you go, Marlene, I was wondering of you'd do something for me?"
"Sure," she replied, all sweet innocence.
"That's good," I said, all cheerful innocence myself. "I was wondering if you'd be kind enough to undress and let me see your figure? I can't help but feel you would be sensational nude."
The look on her face as my request filtered through her disbelief was worth the trouble of asking. If I'd stood up and slapped her she couldn't have looked more shocked.
"What?" she half shouted.
I didn't bother replying. She'd heard and knew exactly what I said.
"Your wife. . ." she started off but I interrupted.
"Oh, don't worry about her. I have no intention of telling her. If I did she'd make me buy her a new wardrobe to show my remorse."
"That's not what I was going to say," she grumbled. "Anyway, my boyfriend. . ."
"Geez, don't mention hm. He's not here and not worth talking about anyway. I'd call him a dickhead but that would be flattering him."
"He's not a dickhead," she snapped at me but I just waved her rebuttal aside.
"Irrelevant," I told her. "I'm interested in you, not him. I'm sorry. I interrupted you. You were saying?"
"If I was silly enough to take off my clothes you'd probably wind up trying to molest me. You have to be kidding. What makes you think I'd do such a thing?"
"You can scratch the probably," I said with a laugh. "I can assure you that once you're undressed I have every intention of molesting you. I am feeling incredibly frisky right now and I feel it's my duty to help advance your sex education. As for what makes me think you'll get undressed for me, nothing in particular, but I'm certain that you wouldn't if I don't ask, now would you?"
"I'm not going to even if you have asked me," she retaliated.