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(Everyone involved in sexual activity in this story is at least 18 years old and any similarity between this story and real life are a figment of your imagination.)
Author’s note: Sometimes it is hard to choose a category for stories. I chose “Mature” based on the beginning of the story. I hope you enjoy.
It was just another Saturday afternoon at our house. I was relaxing in my recliner watching golf on TV. I had played in my weekly men’s club golf tournament that morning and was now watching the pros show how the game is meant to be played. My wife, Sandy, was at the grocery store, so for the time being I wasn’t being asked to help with something.
As I was dozing in and out of my deeply relaxed state of mind, I barely noticed Sandy return from the store and into our kitchen. Hearing her put down the first few full sacks of stuff, I figured I’d better get up and help or I’d hear about it later. I headed for the kitchen where I started to unpack the week’s supplies while she fetched a few more bags from the car. As Sandy returned with the last of the bags, little did I know about where the conversation would suddenly go.
“Do you remember Erica Martinez?”
“Um, no. Why?” I blatantly lied.
“Oh come on. You remember little Erica.”
“I don’t. Why should I?” I continued with the bold-faced lie.
“I swear. You could remember ridiculous details about a specific golf shot you took 20 years ago and yet you can’t remember Diana’s first babysitter (Diana is our only child).”
“That was 21 years ago, honey. Why do I need to remember the babysitters we used?”
“Never mind,” Sandy said. “Go back to your golf game.”
Despite the fact that this conversation had caused my heart to race at an alarming speed, I wanted to know more. As I returned to my recliner, I asked Sandy, “Why did you ask me about her?”
“I was just curious. I ran into her mom at the store. I hadn’t seen her for years.”
“I think I vaguely remember her now.”
Walking into the family room, Sandy said, “I swear she had the hots for you back then. I would have thought you remembered her more.”
“She what? No she didn’t.”
“It’s okay. You were handsome back then,” Sandy laughed. “And she was adorable. A tiny little thing. You used to tease her about being so small.”
“Back then? What’s that supposed to mean? I’m still handsome.”
Still laughing, Sandy continued, “That got your attention.”
“Why do you think she had the hots for me?”
“The way she used to look at you. She’d always want you to drive her home. But it doesn’t matter, I just thought you’d be curious.”
Sandy walked back to the kitchen and finished unpacking.
Most men have a few things in their pasts that they hope stay there and never come to light with their wives. This was clearly one of those situations. As I started to watch golf again, the memories of Erica came flooding back and I replayed our secret.
Erica had been the babysitter for some friends of ours. When Diana was born, she quickly started babysitting for us on their strong recommendation. She was 16 when she started and she was a very responsible young woman we could trust with our first, and only child. She was saving up for a car, so she would jump at any chance to watch Diana and earn some extra cash.
Despite their 16 year age difference, Erica and Diana had an immediate connection between them as they shared a birthday. Erica was more like Diana’s big sister than a babysitter. It was Diana’s second birthday, and Erica’s 18th, that caused my current state of panic.
A few days after their actual birthday, we invited Erica over to celebrate their birthdays together. Not that I hadn’t noticed how adorable Erica was before this, that night something was different. I think part of it was that, intellectually, I knew she was now “legal.” Erica was barely 5′ tall, maybe not even that, and had tiny features. She had perky B-cup breasts perched on top of her tiny frame. Erica was latina and had naturally tan skin and beautiful, long, dark hair she often wore in braids.
That night, Erica came over wearing a mini-skirt and a loose v-neck shirt that didn’t quite cover her fabulously flat stomach. Her tan little legs were perfectly shaped and the neckline of the sweater provided ample viewing of her nubile cleavage when she bent over.
Sandy made fajitas for all of us and I made margaritas. At Sandy’s insistence, Erica was allowed to have a couple. She had hitched a ride over with a sibling and we would be giving her a ride home.
While Sandy cleaned up dinner and frosted the cake, Erica and I ran around the house with Diana playing whatever silly games a 2-year old toddler could come up with as we had done prior to dinner.
Little did I know, round 3 of hide-and-go-seek would be more fun than I thought. Diana screamed for Erica and I to hide while she did her best to count to 10. Erica ran out of the room and into the closet in our guest room. As I followed, Erica whispered, “Here. Get in bahçelievler escort bayan here with me.”
I quickly found myself crowded into a small closet, in the dark, with our fabulously beautiful babysitter. As Diana searched room by room for us, Erica, a bit tipsy from the drinks, moved a little and stumbled on something in the closet and started to fall over. Reaching out to stabilize her, I firmly planted my hand on her breast.
Thinking with my sex starved dick and a few drinks, I massaged her breast a little. It was very dark, but our faces came together and I gave Erica a kiss and then a second. The second being a long, french kiss that she returned. My hand shot up her sweater and quickly found its way under her bra and onto her bare tit. Her nipple was already hard. Just as we started to kiss again, Diana burst onto the scene in the room.
Her presence startled us back to reality and the noise of us in the closet gave our location away quickly. Diana opened the closet door and screamed, “There you are.”
We all laughed and piled out of the room, just as Sandy yelled, “Come out all you crazy people. It’s time for cake.”
As we walked back down the hallway, Erica adjusted her bra and I did my best to subdue the hard on I had quickly achieved in the closet.
We sang Happy Birthday, ate cake and ice cream, let them open presents, and then it was time to wind down the evening. Sandy took Diana to begin the going-to-bed-battle, while Erica and I sat, chatting a little, both palpating the awkwardness between us.
Sandy returned about 30 minutes later, and asked, “John, can you take Erica home? I have a splitting headache and want to lay down.”
“Sure,” I said. Erica and I glanced at each other as I agreed.
The 15 minute drive to Erica’s parents began mostly in silence. Finally, I broke the tension, “Erica, I need to tell you something.”
“I am really sorry about…”
Interrupting me, Erica said, “Don’t say another word. I loved it.”
“Excuse me? No. No. It was wrong.”
“You didn’t enjoy it?”
“Well, um, uh, of course. I mean. Yes, but it was wrong.”
“Don’t I get to have some say as to whether it was wrong?” Erica asked.
“Sure, I guess. But, I mean, I’m married.”
“Okay, but it was still fun. And I’m an adult now, Mr. Turner. So, legally it’s fine.” With that, Erica leaned over the center console of the car, showing a good view of her cleavage to me, and started rubbing my inner thigh. My cock jumped and started to harden.
“Erica, I don’t think…”
“Quit thinking so much and just enjoy this.”
Next thing I knew, Erica tugged at the top button on my pants and undid it. She quickly slid down my zipper and reached inside for my cock. She fished it out of my boxers easily. I was driving down a dark road with my penis sticking out of my pants and in the hands of my 18 year old babysitter.
“Should I find a place to pull over?” I said, barely keeping the car on the road.
“Yes. Turn right up here and park at the little church. It’s a great spot. Trust me.”
I pulled into the dark secluded parking lot and quickly killed the engine and all the lights. Erica let go of my dick and pulled her shirt off, exposing the lacy black bra that cradled her tits. I watched as she sensually unhooked the front clasp on her bra and let it fly open. Her perky, dark nipples were hard and her tits were perfectly-shaped mounds.
I started to feel them and kiss her passionately while she stroked my cock. I ran one of my hands up between her thighs. She spread her legs and gave me easy access to her panties, soaked with moisture. I pulled them aside and started fingering her twat while I kissed her tits and allowed her to give me a hand job. I couldn’t believe how quickly my balls swelled up with pressure and I knew I would cum really soon.
“Oh god. Oh fuck,” I yelled. “Erica, stop. I’m going to cum. Stop.” I laid back on the driver’s seat and she leaned over me, her tits in full view, and kept stroking.
“Come on. Let it go,” she yelled.
I looked down and her tiny hand was wrapped around my stiff cock and stroking it with incredible speed. Without warning, my cock jumped and shot a ribbon of hot, sticky, white cum straight up in the air and onto her cheek and into her hair. She kept stroking and emptied the rest of my sperm all over the interior of my car and my pants. As quickly as the whole thing started, we scrambled to clean up and get dressed again.
I went to start the car and Erica grabbed my hand, “That was amazing. Thank you.”
“Thank me?” I asked.
“You made me feel so grown up.”
“Erica, we need to be careful. I mean, this was fun and all, but…”
She planted a deep kiss on me, and said, “Please. Don’t worry. It’s fine. I loved it.”
I dropped her off safely at home and then drove home bouncing between a state of panic and ecstasy.
Fortunately, Sandy was sound asleep when I got home and I could slip out of my pants and make balgat escort sure the dried cum was scrubbed out before I put them in the laundry. I double-checked the car for residual spunk and cleaned up the spots I found.
Erica babysat a few more times over the next few months. We would wink and innocently flirt with each other, but I made damn sure we were never in a position for part 2 of what was one of the most nerve wracking escapades I had ever experienced. Her tenure as Diana’s babysitter ended naturally when she bought a car and got a much higher paying job in an office. And then, last I had heard, she went off to college out of state.
Every once in a while I would remember that night fondly. Sometimes my recollections would end in jacking myself off to Erica’s memory. Eventually that ended, until Sandy reignited my memories. The bit of panic I had when Sandy first asked me about Erica quickly subsided. I mean, she only saw her mom. It’s not like she ran into Erica. And besides that, it was over 20 years ago. Erica would be in her late 30’s, I was almost 50, and she probably had a growing family of her own.
Of course, my curiosity peaked a little, and I wondered, “What was Erica like now? What would she think now about 21 years ago?” Rather than go crazy with curiosity, I forced the whole episode out of my head and Sandy never brought it up again. Little did I know, it wouldn’t remain out of my mind for long.
As a medical device consultant, I did a fair amount of traveling around my mid-western territory, but rarely much further than that. Due to the sudden illness of a colleague, I was asked to fly last minute to cover a trade show in San Diego, California.
I landed and went straight to the convention and worked a full day in our company’s booth. As soon as I was done, I changed into some casual clothes and headed to the bar on the top floor of the Hyatt to enjoy the view, and more importantly, get something to drink and eat.
I found a table near a window that provided me a fabulous view of Mission Bay and an equally good view of a hot blonde with a big rack at the table next to me. We smiled at each other and I thought, “Maybe she wants to jump in the sack and then forget about each other later.” Clearly, with the exception of a few vacations each year, the lack of sex in our marriage had something to do with how horny I was.
I ordered a glass of wine and some sliders from the waitress without really noticing her. However, as she walked away, her curvy ass gave me reason to take notice. Even more so, make sure I noticed when she returned.
She had just the right amount of curves to go with huge tits that were squeezed into her tight, revealing top. She was gorgeous with an intoxicating smile. What more could I want? A very sexy blonde at the next table over, and a fucking hot Mexican waitress that would gladly flirt to increase her tips.
As the waitress served other tables, my libido turned to the blonde. I smiled her way and when she returned the smile, I said, “Beautiful view.”
“One of my favorites,” she replied.
“You come here a lot?” I asked.
“Only when I get to tag along on one of my husband’s business trips.”
Strike one, two and three. “That’s fantastic.”
“Yeah. Poor guy. He’s stuck in some stuffy dinner somewhere.”
“He’s sure missing a beauty,” I said, fully intending the innuendo.
We went back to sipping our drinks and I snacked on my sliders. Much to my dismay, when I was ready to order another drink, some guy waited on my table. I caught only a few glimpses of the sexy little waitress across the room.
I finished my food and second glass of wine and asked the waiter for my check. “Room charge or credit card?” He asked.
“Um, credit card.” I knew I couldn’t put alcohol on my company room charge and I didn’t want the hassle of splitting it up. I signed the check and headed for the elevators.
I was waiting for the elevator to come, when I heard a female voice say, “Excuse me. Mr. Turner? John?”
I turned and almost spit out the mint I had put in my mouth. The hot little Latina waitress was standing just steps away from me. “Um, yes. Hello. Do I know you?”
“You don’t remember me?”
“Oh god I hate this shit,” I thought to myself. My mind raced to replay where I might know her from.
“It was a long time ago,” she said, sensing my inability to bring the memory back.
“Where did I know you from?” I asked, sizing her up more closely. Besides the ample rack of tits and pleasantly plump curves that rounded out her bubbly ass and short, sassy legs, she seemed to be about 10 or 15 years younger than me.
“Well, we spent some time together in a dark, secluded, church parking lot one night.”
I damn near had a heart attack right there. Seriously, I am surprised I didn’t wake up in the emergency room of the local hospital.
“Erica? Holy fuck! I mean, excuse my french. Wow!”
I walked toward her and gave her a big hug that, at first, didn’t seem awkward. batıkent escort bayan However, as we broke apart from our hug, you could have cut the awkwardness with a knife.
“Oh my god. You look great. Sandy saw your mom a little while back at the store. Wait. You’re here in San Diego now?”
“Listen, my boss is a ball buster. I really need to get back to my tables. Can we chat later?”
I knew damn well I had to say yes, as awkward as it might be. “Okay. Sure. Um, I’m in room 2325. Or, I mean, do you want to call me.”
Laughing, Erica said, “Give me your number.” I rattled off my cell phone number and she jotted it down on her waitress pad. We parted ways for now and I was left in a daze waiting for the elevator.
I was surprised I could even find my hotel room. I was in a fog of memories. For the first time in 20 years or more, I had just come face to face with the babysitter I made out with one night in my car. That was crazy. I mean, now the 10 year age difference didn’t seem like much, but back then I was 28 and she was only 18 by a couple days. It was damn near illegal.
As I was wandering around my room, wondering what to do next, my phone buzzed with a text. It was Sandy.
Sandy: Call me if you want. I’m still awake.
Me: Sure. In a minute.
I collected myself. I mean, it’s not like she knew I had just seen Erica, but it was still weird.
“Hey honey,” I started off the call.
“Hey. How’s it going out there in sunny San Diego?”
“Oh, it’s um, great. You know. Hard to enjoy it when I’m stuck in the convention all day.”
“I know, but at least it’s not Chicago.”
“What did you do for dinner?”
Suddenly feeling panicked, I said, “Just went to the bar and had a burger. I’m tired. I’m about to crash.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll let you go. Goodnight.”
I clicked on the TV, kicked my shoes off, and laid down on the bed. I could not stop thinking about Erica. “Surely she was married and happy and just wanted to reconnect and ask about Diana and Sandy and life in general. Although, she did bring up the place we parked that night. God she was sexy tonight. And hell, she certainly isn’t my 18 year old babysitter anymore.”
My train of thoughts, ping-ponging back and forth in my head, were abruptly halted about 9pm when my phone buzzed again with a text.
Unknown number: It’s Erica. I got off a bit early. Want to get together?
I started to text “yes.” Then I deleted it and started to text some lame excuse to not see her. Then I deleted it. Then I sat there wondering, “What the fuck should I do?” Then I sent a text.
“Wait, that’s your reply? What the fuck are you thinking?” I wondered to myself.
Erica: Okay. I’ll come to your room.
Giving in to the fact that this was not a good idea, I texted back: Sounds great.
About 20 minutes later, there was a gentle knock at my door. Little did I know that opening the door would mean Erica would not only enter my hotel room, but would re-enter my life.
She had changed out of her work outfit and was wearing some very tight jeans and a baggy sweater that didn’t provide the same view of her cleavage. That was probably a good thing.
“Oh my god. I can’t believe I’m standing here in your hotel room,” she said.
“You’re not the only one. Well, what’s been up?”
“Hey, can we go get some food? I don’t get to eat at work and I’m starving.”
It was a great suggestion. For one thing, it would get us out of my hotel room and away from the temptation at least I was having to rip her clothes off and finish what I started 21 years ago.
“Sounds good. Let’s go. I don’t have a car, do you?”
“Um, no. I take the light rail to work. But there’s plenty of places to walk to.”
We walked to a nearby bar and grill and found a quiet table in the back. I ordered some food I didn’t really need, or want, and Erica ordered dinner. We got our drinks and I offered a toast, “Cheers! To old friends reconnected.”
“So, tell me what you’ve been up to the last 21 years?” I asked.
“The short version or the long version?” Erica laughed.
“The long version.”
“Okay. Here we go.”
If I had to summarize it, Erica walked me through her life like this: She left home for college in San Diego, her first time away from home in Chicago, and she loved it. Unfortunately, she loved life a little more than college. Her junior year, she met a Navy sailor stationed in San Diego and dropped out of college and married him. Her parents never approved. She became another military wife who went months on end never seeing her husband, but she was bound and determined to be happy. Whenever his ship was in port, they tried to get pregnant, but it never happened; it seemed to be some kind of issue with him. That caused a great deal of friction in their marriage and the nail was driven into the coffin when one of his friends found out she was sleeping with her boss at the restaurant she was working at; he promised to marry her and give her a baby. That never happened.
She got a divorce from her Navy husband and never felt welcomed back in Chicago, so she stayed in San Diego. She bounced around in relationships and, as much as she wanted to have children really bad, she was thankful she never had kids with the wrong guy.
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