The date ended sooner than expected, leaving me with a bad taste for the online scene. My "match" was just as pretty and friendly as she'd led me to believe, but was part of a married couple looking for their plus 1, not something I'm interested in. Especially as I'm just getting back into the dating process after finally convincing myself it's what my late wife would have wanted.
I return home with a confusing mix of disappointment and relief, prepared to work out the pent up frustrations by myself after checking on my kids and dismissing the babysitter, Andrea. Both kids are in bed, sleeping soundly as they usually are when I get back from whatever distracting adventure I may be on, Andrea greeting me from the living room with a start. She hadn't expected me back so soon, probably thought someone was breaking in. Poor thing. Not that she'd be completely defenseless in that situation, I reckon she could take down most intruders.
Andrea is an extraordinary girl, if I may say so. She's just over 5 feet tall, fiery red hair cascading down to her shoulders in shiney curls, sparkling emerald eyes, freckles scattered across her fair skin. Her cheeks blush and nose crinkles when she smiles, an expression that brightens up any room (or mood). I've noticed her figure as well, though I try to avoid dwelling on it too much. Despite her usual attire, loose fitting sweatshirt and matching pants when she babysits, I've caught glimpses of her bending over or stretching to get something just out of reach. She has pleasant curves under those layers, something even more apparent when she asks for help retrieving an object, and forgets to step back. Her body has accidentally pressed against mine on more than one occasion, leading to more than one cold shower later on.
The outfit she wore today is a little more snug, apparently she came over right after a yoga class. Her green leggings match her eyes compliment her hair, but are stretched so thin across her wide hips and thick thighs they're practically translucent. Above her leggings is an uncovered portion of her belly, my eyes lingering on the shimmering piercing in her navel beneath the waves of her loose sweater. Seems to defeat the purpose of a sweatshirt to have half of it cut off, but the gray attire with her university's logo looks cozy, otherwise.
"Mr. Neufield, you're home early!" she said in her usual, sing-song voice.
"Yeah," I replied with a laugh/sigh, "my date and I weren't in the same book, let alone the same page."
She frowned, but her voice sounded chipper as ever, "I'm sorry to hear that."
Not that it was her job to cheer me up, but I don't need feigned pity. Her cheeks flushed again as she walked to me, hips swaying as though she'd pulled something. I smiled at her as she took my hands in hers, those big, emerald eyes looking up at me.
"I'm sure the right girl is closer than you think," she said before giving me a warm hug.
I hugged her back, appreciating the sentiment. Her face rubbed into my chest, and I absolutely felt her breasts as we embraced, but tried to shift my body so as to avoid an embarrassing encounter. My manhood ached for attention, pressing firmly against my pants, and I dreaded her reaction if-
"Oh," she chimed, her hip rubbing directly against the rigid lump straining beneath my pants. "Feels like someone is happy."
I could feel my cheeks burn red with embarrassment as the one thing I had tried to avoid just happened. But before I could try to explain, her hands drifted from behind me, fingers trailing along the outline of my covered erection. She moaned softly as her slender fingers traced my member, then looked back up into my eyes. A coy smile grew along her full lips.
"I could help with that," she said. The cheer was nearly gone from her voice, replaced almost entirely by airy seduction. I simply looked back at her, mouth agape and stammering. Her hands slowly began tugging at the belt closed around my tan trousers, unclasping it and pulling it free from the loops before sending it to the floor.