Babysitter Has A King Size Bed

It was a Friday evening after a hot muggy summer's day, and it looked like it was leading onto a hot muggy Friday night. It was one of those rare evenings when I had no plans. No date, no baby-sitting job, nothing. I was going to have a long cool bath and relax on my bed, watching TV and nibbling on junk food. Then the phone rang.

Unfortunately it wasn't an attractive young man whose life would be ruined if I couldn't break all my engagements and go out with him tonight. It was a desperate Mrs Zimmer looking for an emergency babysitter to stay overnight.

From what I could gather Mrs Zimmer's next door neighbour's father had had a stroke. The neighbour was frantic and Mrs Zimmer had promised to go to the hospital with her and stay with her overnight, as the old man was in a rather precarious state of health. Mr Zimmer was currently interstate and not due back until Saturday afternoon. Could I please come and sit for her and stay the night.

I could and I supposed I would. I grabbed some nightwear, keeping in mind the stinking heat, and headed over to the Zimmer's place. Mrs Zimmer said "Thank god," when I rolled up, gave me a quick hug, some quick instructions, and rushed off.

Basically the instructions were that the kids were in bed, keep them there, I'd have to use the master bedroom as the spare room was currently out of order, and that she'd see me in the morning.

I checked the kid's room and the little angels were asleep. Long might they stay that way. I then checked the spare room, because I was puzzled as to how a room could be out of order. It was a shambles, absolutely packed with stuff, a pile a mountain high on the bed. I vaguely recalled that the Zimmer's had sold their house. It seems the spare room was where they were doing all their packing and storage as they got ready for the shift.

I then checked the master bedroom, never having seen it before. It was a case of, wow, that is a bed and a half. It was the biggest bed I'd ever seen. My parents had a queen size bed but this was even larger. Definitely a king size. You could fit a dozen people in that bed, no worries, and I'd have it all to myself.

I watched TV for a while and the kids did not stir. This was going to be one of the easiest babysitting jobs I'd ever had. Finally bored with the TV I went and got ready for bed. I stripped off and grabbed my nightie and had a moment of consternation when I found I'd grabbed the wrong one. I had wanted a light nightie because of the heat and I'd just grabbed the first one in the nightie drawer.

Now I'm not saying I dislike this particular nightie. I love it. It's just that it's not the sort of nightie I'd normally wear at someone else's house. Does the word diaphanous mean anything to you? It's the only word that adequately describes this nightie. The same goes for the panties that go with it. You've heard of clothes that are transparent when there's a strong light behind them? My nightie was probably transparent with any sort of light. Definitely the type of nightie to wear at home, but I was stuck with it. Making a mental note to get dressed before I ventured out of the bedroom in the morning I put it on and went to bed.

When I say I went to bed I actually tossed back the covers and lay on top of the sheets. It was still hot and muggy and the air conditioner was pretty ineffective. In my opinion, summer with that air conditioner was an excellent reason to sell the house.

I fell asleep and a couple of hours later woke up when the light went on. Mrs Zimmer had arrived home. She looked a little despondent.

"Mr Baxter had another stroke and died on the spot," she told me. "Muriel went into hysterics. Fortunately her husband had arrived and he took charge of her. I wasn't required any more so I came home early."

I was sitting up in bed by this time and Mrs Zimmer finally noticed what I was wearing. Her eyebrows rose.

"That is some nightie," she said with a slight laugh. "Are they allowed to sell something like that to anyone under the age of eighteen?"

I giggled. "Probably not. My brother brought it for me on my eighteenth birthday. I don't normally wear it. I grabbed it by accident in my hurry to come over."

"Your brother has good taste," she said, slightly tongue in cheek. "The colour suits you."

"How can you tell? There's not enough material to actually show the colour."

"Well, I'm tired and I'm going to bed. Fortunately there's enough room that we can share the bed and not disturb each other."

With that Mrs Zimmer disappeared into the en suite and returned shortly afterwards wearing some silk pyjamas. As far as I was concerned it was a case of if my brother had to buy me nightwear, why couldn't he have bought some silk pyjamas. They looked marvellous. Mrs Zimmer climbed onto the far side of the bed, just a short walk away from where I was lying. She pressed a button on the bedhead and the lights went out. I had been wondering what all the buttons and things did but hadn't dared experiment. Now I knew one of the answers.

I lay back down and went to sleep.

When I woke I could tell it was early. The sun had risen but I was willing to bet it hadn't risen very far. The bedroom light was on and as I opened my eyes I automatically turned my head to look at where Mrs Zimmer had been lying, thinking she must have got up. She was till there and appeared to be dead to the world. So who turned the light on? The kids?

I turned my head back toward the door, expecting to see the kids out of bed and staring at me. Instead I found myself staring at the crotch of a man who was standing next to the bed. I gasped and looked up to see that he was looking down. He was also looking amused and interested.

"Oh, Mr Zimmer. I thought you wouldn't be home until this afternoon."

"Chairman came back early and offered me a lift in his plane, so here I am. Ah, Carly, the babysitter, right?"

I nodded.

"You've, ah, changed since I last saw you."

"I'm older. People do grow, you know," I said with a smile. "Mrs Zimmer hired me as she expected to be out all night looking after Muriel from next door. Her father had a stroke. He subsequently died and Muriel went into hysterics. Her husband finally turned up to look after her and Mrs Zimmer came home."

"A nice succinct explanation," Mr Zimmer said with approval. "All the required information and no extraneous yakking. You've grown into a very charming young woman. What do they call that thing you're wearing?"

Oh, boy. I'd completely forgotten about what I was wearing. I could feel my face going red and I wanted to cover certain vital areas with my hands. I couldn't see how I could do that without looking like a fool so I didn't. I just lay there with my face burning, pretending it wasn't.

"It's a nightie," I said firmly, hopefully ending the discussion.

Fat chance. He calmly shook his head.

"No, it's not," he said calmly. "A nightie hides your body and sometimes tantalises and teases. That garment highlights your body and hides nothing. Look how the material nestles against your breasts while revealing your nipples."

Would you believe he reached down and lightly pressed my nipples? With his wife right there on the other side of the bed? My mouth popped open with shock.

"You can't do that," I reprimanded.

"Obviously I can," he said. "I did, and look, your nipples liked it."

With that he reached down and this time he lightly pinched each nipple, a feat made easier by the fact that they'd reacted to his initial poke by puckering up slightly. With that gentle pinch, and the subsequent light rubbing, they hastily puckered right up, pressing up against the material which did nothing to hide them.

"Interesting," murmured Mr Zimmer. "I bet you'll find that they're very sensitive to the material rubbing against them. Garments like that are usually designed that way."

To demonstrate his point he took hold of my nightie on either side of my breasts and dragged the material back and forth across my breasts. I nearly squeaked with shock to feel the material dragging against my nipples. My breasts seemed to be swelling and my nipples suddenly seemed super sensitive, absolutely loving the feel of that material. You learn something new every day. I'd just have soon have learned this lesson somewhere else.

"Do you mind?" I demanded, slapping at his hands.

"No. Do you? What does surprise me is your panties."

I was so not going to talk about my panties.

"Never mind about my panties. You shouldn't be looking at them anyway."

"I'm not," the liar said. "I'm looking at your so-called nightie and it seems to indicate that there're panties under it, but I can't see them."

That didn't surprise me. The panties were of the same material as the nightie and they sort of blended together, rendering the panties invisible while giving me two layers of materials at a strategic point.

"Mind you," he continued, "I can see what's under the panties. Like the nightie, they don't hide anything. I bet you react to the panties the same way your breasts react to the nightie."

While I was wondering exactly what he meant by that he was moving into action. He flicked up the bottom of my nightie and took hold of my panties. He started tugging on them and releasing them, resulting in the panties rubbing back and forth along my mound, which promptly took notice of the activity. I almost screamed at the feeling.

I'm not a virgin. Haven't been one for ages. I know what it's like to have someone stroke my mound. I'd just never had anyone stroke me with delicate material before. I was becoming aroused and Mr Zimmer hadn't even laid a finger on me, apart from pressing my nipples. Everything else had just been the material of my nightie and panties rubbing against me. I would, I decided, kill my brother for buying this torture devise.

I suppose I should have been railing at Mr Zimmer, demanding that he leave me alone, pointing out that this was sexual harassment but, between you and me, I didn't really mind. He was a mature and not unhandsome man and I didn't mind a little sexual teasing. It was fun to become aroused and it wasn't as if he could do anything about it. At least, not without waking Mrs Zimmer and that would certainly bring an end to any sexual shenanigans. King size bed or not, if he started trying to bounce me on it she'd wake up for sure.

"Will you just let my panties go?" I demanded. "You have no right to even touch them."

With that he gave a shrug and pulled them off, holding them up where I could see them and then he let my panties go. All I could do was watch as they floated down to the floor.

"There, you see. No panties," he said and at his words I became acutely aware that he'd lifted my nightie earlier and that there was nothing covering my privates, not even those flimsy panties. My hand flashed down to cover them and I found myself holding the back of his hand.

He pushed his hand between my legs, rubbing me firmly. I opened my mouth to protest loudly and he promptly placed his other hand over my mouth.

"Hush," he said. "You don't want to wake my wife. She needs her sleep if she was up late looking after Muriel."

Oh, so consideration of Mrs Zimmer's need for sleep should over-ride the fact that he was massaging my pussy, with fingers dipping in where they shouldn't go. I tried to shake my head, but that didn't work, while I was squirming around under his touch. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I was wet and aroused and helpless.

He finally stopped muffling my voice, at the same time taking his hand away from my pussy.

"I just want to see you without this excuse for a nightie," he said and was busy pulling it up. If I tried to struggle he might tear it and it was an expensive present, so I had no choice but to let it go, resulting in me being naked on his bed.

"This bed is just the right height for this little trick I'm going to show you," he said, and while he was talking he was swivelling me around so I was lying across the bed. With such a large bed I was still nowhere near Mrs Zimmer, especially as he'd pulled me towards the side of the bed. Effective I was on the bed from my bottom up, with my legs dangling of it.

With him standing right next to the bed my legs were on either side of him and I was embarrassingly on display. To my shock he dropped his trousers. I was not really shocked to see that he had an erection. I'd sort of assumed that from the moment he first touched me.

"You can't," I told him defiantly. "If you try you'll wake your wife. She needs her sleep, remember," I added maliciously.

"You worry too much," he said with a big smile. "All I'm going to do is put my cock in you and then take it out, effectively letting us both know what we're missing out on. I have no intention of bouncing you about the bed."

In and out. I could handle that. I shouldn't, I knew, but what harm could it do? As we both knew, any vigorous action on the bed would lead to disaster. I swallowed nervously, watching him line himself up. That cock of his was looking larger by the second.

He pressed against me, encouraging my lips to part as he did so. Then slowly, taking his own sweet time, he filled my passage to overflowing with cock, pressing ever so slowly forward to fully take me.

We both knew he had to take it out now. He had no real choice in the matter. It turned out that while I knew it, he didn't. He reached down and took hold of my leg, lifting it high. I mean really, straight up in the air, high, and then he brought it across his body. I found myself being rolled over, rotating on his cock. I also found myself lying face down on the bed, cock still in me, and his hands coming around to cup my breasts.

I'm wondering what the hell and I was still expecting him to withdraw. Instead of that I found myself being lifted. He was picking me up, wedged onto his cock and his arms around my chest supporting me. All he had to do then was turn around and kneel down, and I found myself on all fours on the carpet, Mr Zimmer kneeling behind me and his cock well and truly remaining in position.

"I think," he said, sounding nice and thoughtful, "that you'll find that we won't bounce the bed this way."

As well as assuring me that we wouldn't bounce the bed he was demonstrating it, pulling back and thrusting back in quite vigorously. What could I say? I'd let him put his cock in. How could I protest now that he was using it? So what if he'd just said in and out? Was I really so gullible that I'd believe that? Apparently the answer to the last question was yes. I'd been counting on him not wanting to wake Mrs Zimmer. Well, it appeared that he wasn't going to.

Mr Zimmer was proving to be a lusty man, driving his cock in with great gusto while his hands were stroking my breasts and playing with my nipples, teasing them, sending little thrills into me as he tweaked them. I wasn't just kneeling there letting this happen. As far as I was concerned if I was being fucked then I wanted my share. I was bouncing my bottom in fine style, pressing hard back against him as he drove into me.

I did vaguely wonder what would happen if Mrs Zimmer woke up while we were like this, but I didn't really worry about it. It was too late for worrying. The fun had started and as far as I could see the only thing to do was to carry on to the finish, hoping it wouldn't come too quickly.

The hardest thing about the situation was the need to stay silent. (Um, make that the second hardest. His cock was far and away the hardest thing, thank god.) Excessive noise might wake Mrs Zimmer. I'm quite sure my screaming out, "Yes, yes, fuck me, you lusty animal," would have caused her to stir.

Not that I had any need to spur Mr Zimmer on. Lusty animal described him to a T, and he was freely spending that lust on my innocent young body. He pounded into me while I gasped and glowed and bounced about, excitement driving me wild.

After we'd been going for a while I heard Mr Zimmer gasp and then exclaim. "Fucking hell, are you on the pill?" I hissed out a yes and he went on, "Then take this."

With that he seemed to redouble his efforts, coming in hard and fast. I was doomed, and I knew it, hastily stuffing my hand into my mouth to stop the scream that was building up inside me. Then he was exploding into me and that was all right as I was doing a quiet explosion of my own, my climax tearing me to pieces. (Only quiet because of that hand stuffed in my mouth.)

"I'll go away and let you grab a shower and get dressed," he told me as he disengaged.

I grabbed my bag and dived into the en suite and the shower, emerging half an hour later as the prim and proper young babysitter that I am. I could hear noises from the kid's room and headed that way, finding them awake and playing.

I got the kids dressed and played with them for a while, eventually taking them through to the kitchen and feeding them. I didn't see Mr Zimmer around and assumed that he'd returned to the master bedroom while I'd been with the kids. Fortunately I'd grabbed my things (including the nightie lying on the floor) when I'd vacated the room and I had no need to return to it.

After a while Mrs Zimmer came out, still in her silk pyjamas. She fossicked around and eventually came up with her purse and gave me my pay.

"George arrived home early," she told me. "He's in the bedroom catching up on some missing sleep. Apparently he didn't get much last night and he said he had some unexpected work this morning that tired him out. It's a good thing he didn't arrive while you were in the bed. With that nightie of yours the horny bastard would have been all over you like a rash."

"Um, yes, good thing," I agreed.

I kissed the kids goodbye, said goodbye to Mrs Zimmer, and headed home. I couldn't help wondering about Mrs Zimmer's final comment. Did she know? I decided it didn't matter. They were moving out and I'd probably never see them again.