Ann and Jim Smith.
What sort of names are those? If my name was Ann Smith I'd be having it changed on the grounds that the name was just too blah to be believable. Same where Jim Smith is concerned. Imagine checking into a motel. I can just see the polite looks and hear the sniggering behind their back.
"They call themselves Ann and Jim Smith. Another couple away for a dirty weekend."
When I first heard the names I thought they were putting me on, but why would they? They were just hiring me for a babysitting job while they went out to a party. I guess someone has to be a genuine Smith.
I turned up a little early. I like to get to a job early if I haven't sat for those people before. It gives me a chance to get a feel for what they're like. It turned out I was a few minutes too early.
"Oh, come on in, Patty. I'm Ann. The kids are down at the park with their father but they should be back shortly."
We wandered through to the kitchen where Ann was gathering together the ingredients for a cake.
"I'm being run ragged right now," she told me. "I promised the kids a cake and I'm only just getting ready for it and I've still got to get changed. I don't know where the time goes."
"Been there, done that," I said with a laugh. "I'll tell you what. How about I get on with the cake while you start getting ready? I enjoy messing around in the kitchen."
"Would you? That'd be such a help."
"No worries," I said smiling. "This way I'll have earned a slice of the cake."
Ann scurried off and I started preparing the cake. I was bent over the table beating the mix when I heard the front door, followed by the excited chatter of little children. The noise faded away into the house and I assumed that their father was taking them to their rooms or to the bathroom for a clean-up. Kids can be such little grots after playing at a park.
I was partly right and partly wrong. The kids had apparently bolted for their room to grab some toys but their father hadn't come with them. I heard a step behind me but before I could turn around. . .
You wouldn't believe it. A nice sounding voice said, "How you going, gorgeous?" and a hand flipped up my skirt and dived down the back of my panties. If told, I wouldn't have believed a man could put his hand all the way down and reach your pussy just like that.
I reared up with a squawk, dropping the bowl onto the table (without breaking or spilling it, fortunately.) My head spun around and I'm looking at Jim Smith. He seemed as astonished as I was.
"God, I'm sorry," he said. "I expected to find Ann here and when I came in and saw you I thought. . ."
His voice trailed off. I have to admit I could understand the mistake. Ann and I were both wearing skirts and I had been bent over. Jim saw what he expected to see and acted accordingly.
"Ah, um, yes, I understand," I muttered, embarrassed. "I'm Patty, the baby sitter. Um, your hand."
That last comment was due to the fact that his hand was still jammed down the pack of my panties and patting my pussy.
"Oh, yes, right," Jim said, speaking very quickly and jerking his hand free. "Um, terribly sorry. Ah, I'll just go and find Ann."
He rushed off and I went back to finishing off the cake, my face still red.
After that inauspicious beginning everything went well. The cake (chocolate) came out just right and was very tasty. I got on well with the kids and Ann and Jim seemed OK, although I still blush when I think of my first encounter with him.
Ann and Jim shot through and the kids were well behaved (for kids). Eventually they went to bed and slept and I just idled my time away until Ann and Jim returned.
It was pushing midnight when they rolled up. Jim came in carrying Ann. Literally. She was dead to the world.
"One too many," said Jim with a grin. "We hit the fresh air and she was out like a light. She'll sleep until morning now. Just one moment while I put her to bed. I'll be right back."
