Babysitters Erotica Collection(62)

Before their second-and far from being the last-meeting, Andrea had spent those three nights tossing and turning in her bed. She was unable to fall asleep. Mr. Potter had made his mark on her. Thinking of his touch burned her completely. She would twist and writhe on her bed, making a mess of her sheets. She had felt hot and discontented for three nights in a row now. She was lusting for her babysitting boss. The thought of having to end their escapade frightened her, but she knew it wasn’t happening anytime. She would make sure of it. Heck, Mr. Potter would make sure of it.

She had slipped a hand inside her pajama bottoms and right inside her cotton panties. Her fingers touched something slick and sticky, confirming something she had suspected all along ever since she had woken up that morning. She scolded herself for being a slut, but so what? She had been very wet the whole day. How could she not be when the thought of Mr. Potter kissing and touching her was imprinted in her mind every waking second? Thank goodness her mom was out of the house and not badgering her too much. She loved her mother, of course, but her mother could be a bit too chatty sometimes.

Andrea was in no mood to talk. She would rather lock herself up in her room and conjure more romantic and sexual images involving herself and Mr. Potter. She was aware she was being childish for such things, but she no longer cared. It had been so long since she had last done the deed. The sudden turn of events awakened the sleeping dragon of lust inside her and reminded her of the lovely pleasures of the flesh she had immensely enjoyed those past years. She was a “nobody” who had her small share of boyfriends. She knew it sounded slutty, but she couldn’t get enough of sex. And now there was Mr. Potter, ready and willing to respond to her sexual whims, and she to his.

For three nights in a row, Andrea played with herself. She waited until she was a 100 percent sure her mother was snoring the night away. Her mother was a very heavy sleeper, and Andrea wanted to make, well, noises while she did her thing down there. The silence wouldn’t do, but moaning and groaning would add to the imagination that Mr. Potter was right there with her, beside her, touching every inch of her body, and making wild, frenzied sex with her.

Things would kick off as soon as Andrea’s hand was inside her panties. She would finger the folds of her pussy very gently. She wanted to start things slowly. It wouldn’t do at all to rush with her sexual fantasies concerning Mr. Potter simply because she didn’t want things to come to an end so soon. She wanted to relish the feel and touch of Mr. Potter against her skin. Even if it was just in her thoughts, the idea was enough for her. Besides, she will be seeing him again every couple of days. She didn’t have to wait that long; hence, her mental pictures were good enough.

The feel of her fingers against her labia turned Andrea on. She imagined her fingers were Mr. Potter’s. They began to move faster, and her breath quickened. Mr. Potter’s fingers were eager to explore every inch, every hole of her cunt. She would let him, of course. She shifted and spread her legs wider. There. Now Mr. Potter had better access to her down there. She leaned back on her pillows and let her imagination take control of her.



In Andrea’s head, Mr. Potter was right beside her, in her bed. She opened her eyes and gasped in pleasant surprise when she saw her babysitting boss in the flesh.

“Mr. Potter, what are you doing here?” she whispered. She glanced around her bedroom. “We have to keep our voices low. Mom’s asleep, but she might wake up. No knowing what she’d do if she catches us in here.” She giggled nervously.

Mr. Potter smiled and nodded to show her he understood. He was wearing dark denims and nothing else that Andrea could see. He had no shirt on. His chest was solid and hard as a rock. He didn’t have a strand of hair in his chest, but his skin was shiny with something. Sweat, she supposed. But the idea didn’t warm up to her as he looked freshly showered. There wasn’t an inch of exertion showing anywhere in his face.

Well, you are imagining things, Andrea, a voice inside her head spoke up. Get right on with it. These things are in your head, not in real life. Nothing has to make sense here. You can do whatever you want, you and Mr. Potter both. Now quit being too analytical. Go!

Andrea did just that.

She saw Mr. Potter was barefoot. She frowned. He must be cold then.

“Are you cold?” she asked him softly. Her hand was still down there, fiddling with the soft lips of her organ. But she wasn’t ashamed. What she was doing was pretty much obvious, anyway. Besides, it was Mr. Potter she was dealing with.

“Yes, Andrea, I’m cold,” Mr. Potter answered. He inched closer to her until their faces were very close. “That was why I came here, see. I wanted to find out if you could give me some… warmth.”