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Doesn’t Need It

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I was baby-sitting for Angela and Neil Reynolds. They’re both in their early thirties, which is a bit surprising seeing that their kids are so young. They apparently chose to have their kids fairly late.

Neil is nice. A charming gentleman, in the true meaning of the word. He’s all smooth and suave and kind. Always polite, and I’ve never heard him run anyone down.

Angela, on the other hand, is a bitch, studying to be the queen of bitches.

I can’t, for the life on me, see what he sees in her. I sort of figured she must be really good in bed. While I’ve never heard Neil have a rude word for anyone, Angela delights in putting other people down. Bossy as anything and acts superior to everyone else. I try to ignore her, mainly by just nodding my head and agreeing with her every pronouncement.

They’d been out to dinner and a show and arrived home quite late. Neil put on some coffee and we sat around drinking it while Neil and Angela discussed the show. Neil made what seemed to me to be a reasonable critique of the show. Angela promptly supplied a rebuttal of the critique, countering every good point that Neil had made and then moving on to the characters and short-comings of the performers.

Until Angela told me I had had no idea that all performers had such low morals and lived such hedonist life styles. Angela was especially critical of the young female star. If I mentioned her name and Angela’s comment in the same breath she would probably be taking legal action against me.

“No better than she ought to be,” sniffed Angela. “I’ve heard that she regularly has sex with half the cast. You’d have thought she’d have grown out of that by now.”

She gave me a forbidding look, one that made me want to run to the nearest theatre and have wild and passionate sex with half the cast, just to show her that I wasn’t intimidated.

“You’re what, twenty? You’ll probably get the urge to have sex with a man sooner or later, but take my advice and don’t do it. It’s just not worth the bother. Disgusting thing to do, if you ask me.”

I wasn’t asking her, and it seemed a strange attitude for a married woman with two children. Was she supposed to have had them by immaculate conception. Casting a look at Neil, who was wearing a poker face, I was willing to bet that she wasn’t as pure as she made out. He didn’t look like the type of man who would willingly forego his sexual activities.

I could be wrong of course. Angela carried right on, telling all.

“Neil and I never bother about that sort of thing now. We have our children so there’s no need. I don’t want it and Neil doesn’t need it. I’ve told him so often enough. He’s a bit dim that way, but there again, I suppose all men are.”

Oh, thank you so much for that insight into your family sex life, Angela. How could I have gone on without knowing that. A case of TMI as far as I was concerned.

“Remember, Ronnie, if a man suggests you do nasty things with him, just slap him down. You’ll appreciate this advice when you’re older and raging hormones don’t get in the way.”

She gave me a look that seemed to suggest that I had a queue of men waiting at my bedroom door, all wanting to make indecent proposals.

“I,” she announced, “am retiring. Please don’t make any noise when you go to bed, Neil. You know how I hate to be woken up.”

With that she sailed out of the room, leaving me looking at Neil and feeling somewhat embarrassed.

It didn’t seem to bother Neil at all. He was just sitting there, all relaxed and smiling.

“Too much information?” he asked idly. “An interesting look at the intimate lives of a suburban couple.”

I blushed a little, and he went on.

“She’s only been like this since the birth of Timmy. The doctor says that eventually she’ll snap out of it and things will get back to normal. Don’t let her worry you.”

She didn’t worry me, but I’ll admit to a feeling of sympathy for Neil. I had a feeling he was probably a man of strong appetites and enforced celibacy must have been hard on him. Not that I could say or do anything about it.

Anyway it was time for me to pack up and go home. Neil was already teaching for his wallet to pay me. He must, I decided, have been slightly more upset with Angela than I thought. He put my pay on the coffee table for me to come and collect it. He normally walks over and gives it to me.

I went over and picked up my money and stuffed it into my pocket. I didn’t bother to count it. Neil was always generous and, rather than short change me, he was more likely to slip in an extra five or so. Then I gave a startled squeak as his arm went around my waist and he pulled me onto his knee.

I wriggled and tried to stand, giggling a little. I wasn’t concerned. After all, Angela was in the house and Neil was a gentleman anyway. He was just teasing. His hold was a little tighter than I expected and I relaxed a little, giving him a look.

“Do you mind,” I growled, or at least, tried to growl. It sounded more like a breathless squeak.

“No,” he replied. “I don’t mind at all. I’m just doing you a favour.”

Excuse me? Doing me a favour? He saw the look on my face and continued.

“Well, I saw that you were feeling sorry for me and all those young raging hormones would have been stirred up by the injustice I’m labouring under, so I thought I’d give you the opportunity to give me a little cuddle and kiss it better.”

God he had a gall, but I found myself gigging again. I won’t admit to raging hormones but I had been feeling a little sorry for him. A kiss and a cuddle wouldn’t hurt. Not really.

I snuggled up to him a little and tilted my head back for a kiss. He started off slowly, just brushing my lips, his mouth wandering around my face dropping little kisses on my eyes, the tip of my nose, and then back to my mouth. He lifted his head and winked at me, and then bent down and started kissing me properly.

Oh, wow, that guy could kiss. His mouth plundered mine, making me wish he wasn’t married. It would be just fine to get to know him a bit more intimately. Then I found I was getting to know him a bit more intimately. Or perhaps I should say Neil was getting to know me a bit more intimately.

His hand had slipped under my dress and was stroking my inner leg, getting a lot too close to private property for comfort.

I pulled back a little, breathing harder.

“Um, your hand, Neil,” I murmured.

“It’s just here,” he said, and I’ll bet my eyes popped open with shock. The here that he’d mentioned was my pussy and his hand was now covering it and squeezing.

“I know where it is,” I said with a bit of a gasp. “I think you’d better move it.”

“Neil,” I protested with a louder gasp. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

He just grinned, totally unrepentant, and his hand stayed right where it was, gently massaging me.

“Stop worrying,” he said softly. “It’s not as though I’m going to seduce you. It’s just a bit of affectionate petting. Relax and enjoy it. It’s not going to hurt.”

I knew I shouldn’t have, but I was feeling sympathetic towards him, and it did feel nice, so I let it go. Neil continued to pet me, even while he returned to giving me a few kisses. Those kisses were my next problem.

His mouth dropped down as he muzzled my neck, and that felt erotic. I was breathing harder now. If I wasn’t careful I really would have a case of raging hormones. Then he brushed the straps of my dress off my shoulders and pushed the top down a little. Just enough to free my breasts. My breasts were free because Neil had thoughtfully undone the clip to my bra.

When his mouth closed over a breast and he started sucking on a nipple I jumped. I grabbed his head and tried to pull it away but it wasn’t budging, and I could feel my nipples puckering and swelling as he tasted them.

“Neil!” I protested, and he looked up at me, a laughing smile on his face.

“There you go, worrying about nothing again,” he said. “Just relax. Nothing bad is going to happen. Just a little more petting. Don’t you like it?”

As I was writhing under the feel of his fingers doing dangerous things to my pussy at the time I couldn’t really deny that what he was doing was fun. I’m sure my panties were getting wet, and I was squirming a little restlessly. I stopped my complaining and just watched as Neil kissed my breasts, making them feel warm and loved. And while he was doing this I was trying to ignore the way his hand was agitating my pussy.

Not something I should have been ignoring, it turned out. Just how he pulled my panties down I don’t know, but it suddenly dawned on me that his fingers were dancing across my naked flesh. Across, hell. His hand went still and then some fingers went exploring deeper.

“Neil, I think we’d better call it a day,” I gasped. I was hot and wet and agitated. It wasn’t just my pussy that was hot. I’m quite sure my general temperature had risen several degrees.

“But you haven’t petted me at all,” Neil said, with such a sad note in his voice that I was taken in for a moment. At the same time he shifted my hand so that it was pressing against something hard and hot, long and fat.

I’d actually closed my hand over him and started stroking him when it dawned on me what I was doing. I was going to snatch my hand away, but what the hell, I was already playing with it. I continued to tease his cock, while giving him a look that said you ain’t fooling me, buster.

Neil just smiled and kept stroking me and dipping his fingers into places that they shouldn’t go.

I suppose one of the reasons I started stroking Neil’s cock and let him go on petting me was because I was getting really worked up. My excitement was rising quite rapidly and if Neil wasn’t careful I was going to climax right there and then.

I hadn’t realised that Neil, the gentleman, was also Neil, the fourteen carat, gold-plated, son-of-a bitch. If he wasn’t careful? He suddenly switched the way he was petting me and his fingers started rubbing hard all around my clitoris, sending horrendous vibrations through me. My mouth dropped open and I was going to climax and there was absolutely no way I could stop it.

I was just staring at Neil, eyes wide and mouth open, making these funny little sounds and he just put his hands on my hips, lifted me slightly and turned me and then dropped me back down onto his cock. It came sliding straight up into me, filling me with that one swift motion and I gave some sort of groan and climaxed, shaking and shuddering as waves of feeling just swept through me.

I slowly came out of the after effects of my climax. Slowly, that is, until I reached a degree of awareness so as to know what was going on around me. Little things, like the fact that I was still straddling Neil and his cock was still hugely erect and inside me. That little fact snapped me wide awake quite fast.

Before I could speak Neil chimed in.

“Enjoy that, did you?” he asked. “Got to watch those raging hormones, don’t you. Of course, that sort of thing doesn’t bother me because, as you know, I’m not getting any at home.”

Not getting any? He had the bare faced gall to say not getting any when his cock was so far up me it was probably brushing against my tonsils. I opened my mouth to tell him what I thought when he bounced me.

Oh my god. I slid up and down his pole and it did terrible things to me. I was super sensitive thanks to his wretched petting and that climax and that bounce. . . I shuddered, tried to speak and got bounced again.

My voice just froze. Neil’s hands had glommed onto my breasts, massaging them, while he bounced me, sliding in and out of me in fine style. Every thought was just bounced out of my head. All I could think of was Neil’s cock moving back and forth, busily reigniting all those feelings that my climax had washed away.

He wasn’t taking it slowly, either. He was going to town, happily pounding against me, turning me into a mass of burning nerves. I just knew I was going to climax again. I’d been halfway there after the first one and Neil’s cock wasn’t taking any prisoners. I was gasping, and I could hear myself pleading for something, and then Neil was coming into me even harder and I climaxed again, feeling him spray me as I exploded.

The first climax had been pretty standard, just sweeping me away and leaving me stunned and happy. (Happy until I found out I was riding Neil’s cock, anyway.) This one seemed far more intense and it just wiped me out. I really think I must have fainted after it was over.

Once again I found myself recovering from the effects of a climax. (And wow. That had been some orgasm.) This time, to my surprise, I was lying on my back on the couch, naked.

I sat up, and then reached for my clothes, which were piled next to me. Neil wasn’t in the room at the moment. Wondering why he’d bothered to strip me, I was looking around as I quickly dressed, and I saw his phone sitting on the coffee table. My mind said, “phone, camera, me naked, that bastard,” and I grabbed for the phone.

It was still on and I opened the photos. I guessed that it would still be positioned at the last photo he looked at and just hit enter a couple of times until a picture came up. A picture of me, naked, lying on the couch, and you could see everything.

My face was burning when Neil spoke up. I hadn’t even noticed him return.

“Just a memento of a lovely lady that I wanted to keep,” he said. “Feel free to flick through the album.”

So I did. The very next photo was a woman in roughly the same pose that I’d been in. I knew her. She and I used to babysit together sometimes when there was a big family. The next photo was a stranger, but the next another girl who I knew did sitting work.

I’m sure my mouth was gaping in shock as I paged through Neil’s baby-sitter album, because I’m sure that’s what it was. Baby-sitters that he’d used, and was ‘used’ ever the correct word.

He took the phone off me, tucking it away.

“You’ve even got a picture of Madeline,” I said. “I thought she was a professional virgin.”

“Um, no, I’m afraid not. Or not now, anyway.”

“Does Angela know about these?”

“I don’t think so. She would discreetly ignore it if she suspected. Anyway, will you be free to sit for us again next Friday?”

Sit for him again? After tonight? He was kidding, wasn’t he? Something else occurred to me.

“Ah, you only had the single photo of me, but multiple shots of some of the others. Why was that?”

“Oh, I only ever take a single shot,” he said blandly.

I stared at him, feeling blank. If he only took a single shot, why did some girls have two photos? More, some of them. Oh my god. Come the dawn. The multiple shots were because the girls had continued to sit for him, with repeated ravishments. Madeline, I recalled, had had three photos.

“Sit for you next Friday? Um, I’ll have to check my calendar and let you know.”

I almost bolted from the house. Come back next Friday to sit for him again, indeed. Of course, I knew what he had in mind, so I’d be able to avoid it happening again. I idly wondered, how many of the other repeaters had thought that and how had he overcome their scruples? Oh, boy. Life was certainly interesting at times.

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