my fingers rubbing my aching clit in fast little circles. Mrs. B’s orgasm had almost sent me right over the edge. I was very, very close.
“That tight nineteen-year-old cunt!” He shoved into her. “I want to taste her.” He slammed into her again. “Fuck her.” And again. “Make her come.” And again. “Make her scream until she can’t take anymore.”
I leaned my forehead against the doorjamb for support, trying to control how fast my breath was coming, how fast my climax was coming, but I couldn’t. I whimpered, watching him fuck her and knowing he was imagining me…me!
“Come here.” He pulled out and Mrs. B turned around like she knew what he wanted. “Swallow it.”
He knelt up on the bed as she pumped and sucked at his cock. I saw the first spurt land against her cheek, a thick white strand of cum, and then she covered the head with her mouth and swallowed, making soft mewing noises in her throat. I came then, too, shuddering and shivering against the doorframe, biting my lip to keep from crying out.
When I opened my eyes and came to my senses, Mrs. B was still on her hands and knees, focused between his legs-but Doc was looking right at me, his dark eyes on mine.
He saw me. For the second time today-he saw me.
My hand flew to my mouth and I stumbled back, fumbling for the doorknob behind me I knew was there. I finally found it, slipping into my room and shutting the door behind me. I leaned against it, my heart pounding, my pussy dripping, and wondered what I was going to do now.
Chapter Three
I buried my red, flushed face into the coolness of my pillow and decided I wasn’t going to leave my room. I just couldn’t face them, after what had happened. When Mrs. B knocked on my door for dinner, I told her I wasn’t feeling well again.
“Anything I can get you?” she asked kindly.
I shook my head and called a muffled, “No!” into my pillow.
Downstairs, they played games, talking, laughing. I heard Janie and Henry fighting over the X-Box again, but then Doc turned it off and put in Monty Python, which had them both laughing hysterically. It wasn’t something I thought I’d let my eight and nine year old watch, but I wasn’t their parent, what did I know? I was just the babysitter.
Some babysitter-hiding up in her room! I just couldn’t imagine looking into his eyes, knowing he had seen me masturbating in their doorway while I watched them have sex. What must he think of me, now?
My face burned at the thought, but the images of them together kept coming back to me, again and again. I couldn’t stop remembering how her breasts had swayed when he pounded into her, how she had turned around to swallow his cum, like she couldn’t get enough.
I wasn’t a virgin, but all of my experiences with boys had been mostly basement or back seat fumblings, quick and mildly pleasurable. I’d never heard or seen anything like what Mr. and Mrs. B were doing in their bedroom this afternoon.
I was so lost in my own world I didn’t even bother to get dressed. I just tossed my wet towel on the floor and curled up under the covers. I think I drifted off. The heat of the sun had made me sleepy and a little lethargic.
My dreams were about Doc, seeing him stroking his cock over my breasts, rubbing the fat, bulbous tip over my hard, pink nipples. He kept whispering, “I want to come all over you, Ronnie. I want to come all over your sweet little tits.”
When I woke up, my pussy throbbed with the images from my dream, the light had faded to near-dim, and I couldn’t hear the kids anymore. Someone knocked at my door, and I realized that was what must have woken me.
“Come in.”
It was Mrs. B, and she carried a cup of tea she set next to me on the night table. I felt her hand in my hair, brushing it away from my eyes.
“How are you feeling?” She sat on the edge of the bed behind me.
“A little better.” I turned my face to her.
“I brought you some tea,” she said, and I felt her weight shifting.
“Thanks.”
“What hurts?” she asked. “Is it your tummy?” I nodded, closing my eyes as she traced her fingers over my forehead. “Here, move over.” I stiffened for a moment, feeling her curling herself around me. “Let me rub it. Sometimes it helps.”
“Mrs. B,” I whispered, but her hand slid over the comforter, massaging my belly through the material.
She smelled sweet, and I knew she must have taken a shower, too, after sunbathing. We’d both been so oiled up and sweaty. Remembering how she looked, rubbing oil into her breasts and then lying topless next to me, made me shiver.
“Better?” she murmured, her mouth close to my ear.
I shook my head. “No.”
“Well, here.” She slid her hand under the covers. “Maybe like this.” I swallowed hard as Mrs. B’s hand slid below my navel, rubbing the taut, flat surface of my belly. She was gentle, tender, rubbing it in slow, easy circles.
“Is it your period?” Her fingers moved a little further down. They touched the top of my pubic hair now.
“No.”
She continued to knead my flesh, and I felt her breath against my cheek. Her arm brushed across the side of my breast with her motion, making me tingle. She must have known I was completely naked under the covers.
I turned a little toward her, and now my nipple rubbed against her upper arm as she moved her fingers lower, bit by bit. Her hand slipped over my pubic bone. I felt my breath coming faster and tried to control it. Her breasts pressed tight against my back. I felt the generous swell and shift of them when she moved.
“Better yet?” She kissed my cheek. The light had grown dimmer, and I could barely see her outline now, but I felt the weight and heat of her behind me.
“A little.” I shifted on the bed and felt her fingers dip between my already swollen, wet lips. Gasping, I pulled away from her hand.
“It’s okay.” She put her whole hand over my mound. “This might make you feel better.”
I drew a shaky breath. Her hand just massaged me, covering my lips, her fingers not moving inside. I sighed, closing my eyes. It felt so good I could barely stand it. Her arm moved over my nipple as she worked her hand slowly between my legs. I let out a little moan, squirming under her.
I turned a little more towards her. Her mouth was right there, so close I felt her breath on my face. She smelled of beer or alcohol, and something sweet that was just the scent of her. “I have to tell you something.”
“What is it?” Her palm rocked between my thighs. I gasped, biting my lip to keep from crying out. My pussy was wet and throbbing and aching for some sort of release. She pressed her cheek to mine, and her lips were soft there, inches from my own.
“This afternoon…” I moaned when she started making circles between my legs, moving her hand around and around on my mound and rubbing the flesh of my lips over the sensitive bud of my clit.
“Yes?” she encouraged, moving her hand a little faster.
“Oh, God,” I whispered against her cheek, shivering. “Please.”
“What is it, Veronica?”
When I closed my eyes, I saw Doc fucking her, plunging his cock into her from behind. It sent a jolt straight between my legs.
“I saw you,” I confessed quickly. “This afternoon, in your room… you and Doc…”
Her hand slowed, and I felt a thick pulse throbbing under her fingers. “I know, sweetie…it’s okay.”
I could barely breathe. “You know?”
“Yes.” Her lips pressed against the side of my mouth as she talked, and I felt their softness, their tender
