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Then again, I know I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but what’s the harm? It’s not like I’m going to open my own jewelry business to compete against his. In fact, as Mr. Patton’s deep voice continues to ring out, a hot shiver runs down my spine because this must be how an alpha male does business. Hard. Fast. Unrelenting, and with no mercy.
My thighs squeeze together as my insides go wet. God, my ex Neil was such a wet rag compared to Mr. Patton. Neil worked in IT, and his job was literally to answer the help line at a university. Literally, when students had problems with their computers, he was the guy who went out to fix it.
But clearly, Mr. Patton’s in another league, and I feel my nipples grow taut and stiff. One hand reaches up to circle a pink tip through my thin sweater, and I let out a small giggle while continuing to listen to him talk. Should I? It sounds so bad, but then again, he’s totally engrossed in his conversation. He’ll never know I’m here.
Just to be sure though, I lean forward to peek through the crack in the door, and sure enough, Rick’s staring at his computer screen with a phone pressed to his ear. That black hair is tousled with frustration, and his white button up is undone at the collar, revealing a length of hard, bronzed throat. Those blue eyes are intense, but they’re totally focused on the screen in front of him, even as the voice on the end of the receiver jabbers away in a tinny stream. Perfect.
With another silent giggle, I step back from the door a bit, and then slowly, lift my skirt. It’s just a silky black wraparound that resembles the practice skirts that ballet dancers wear. I undo the string-tie at the waist, and with a slight hiss, the material drops away, puddling at my feet.
Then, I turn so that my bottom’s facing the crack in the door and bend over before toying with the sides of my g-string. It’s a tiny white one, no bigger than a patch of fabric at my crotch, but I’ve found that only my thongs fit me now that I’m pregnant. With another silent giggle, I pull the g-string down until it stretches about my knees, and then pull it lower still before stepping out of the tiny bit of fabric altogether. Shamefully, there’s a bit of wetness connecting my pussy to the gusset, and I break the gooey string with one finger before putting it to my mouth. Mmm, the juice is tangy and very feminine, if I do say so myself.
But this is where the pedal hits the metal because I want to be bad. Maybe I haven’t gotten my wild ways out of my system yet, but this is different because it’s not like I’m hooking up with a strange man. In fact, I know that Mr. Patton can’t see me, so it’s okay. His deep voice is still rumbling, and if anything, it’s growing even more agitated. I pause for a moment, breathless. Did he just say something that rhymes with panties? I pause, unmoving. But no, it must be my imagination because the phone call continues, that deep bass now cussing at the other person on the phone.
A naughty smile creeps over my face. Oh goody. Perfect for me. Slowly, I bend over lower until my long curls brush the floor, my big breasts hanging down and swaying within my loose sweater. Then, I reach two hands back and pull my bottom cheeks apart, the full moons giving way to reveal my swollen rose-colored pussy. The folds are wet already, and they glisten in the low light. But this isn’t enough. I reach my hands even further back until my fingers are on my nether lips themselves, and pull those apart to show off my slick pink interior. Oh god, I’m already gushing, and to my delight, a gooey trickle of female nectar begins to drip down the inside of my thigh.
“Fuck!” Mr. Patton roars from within his office.
Immediately, I stand and back away into the darkness, afraid that he’s seen me. But the handsome alpha male has merely slammed his phone down, and he’s clacking away at his keyboard now, practically hammering the keys with rage. Wow, I wonder what just happened? But I know better than to press my luck, and with one last silent giggle, I pull on my panties before grabbing my skirt. Then, I tiptoe down the hallway and turn the corner even as heat continues to pour through my core. After all, I was just a bad girl, even if it felt good to do that. The problem? That I wanted my handsome employer to see … although my actions were totally wrong.
2
Rick
Who the fuck does she think she is? And what the fuck does she think she’s doing? I’m talking about my naughty babysitter of course. What the hell. When I got Tracy’s name through that single dad’s group, I never thought she’d be doing this!
Actually, that’s not true because I was forewarned. The single dad’s group has been almost solely dedicated to discussing the gorgeous Tracy Cunningham for quite a while now, in fact. She’s evidently the hottest babysitter in town for us single guys because it seems that she provides more than just babysitting services for our kids. She’s hooked up with quite a few of the dudes in the group, and they’ve been singing her praises as a result.
But I’ve been using Tracy for a month now, and never got a whiff of even the slightest impropriety until tonight. If anything, she was a sweet-mannered young woman with a gentle voice. Her brown curls wave angelically about her shoulders, and of course, she’s got the body of a voluptuous Titian goddess. Tracy’s all generous breasts, wide hips, and thick thighs, just the way the guys in my group prefer it. Maybe magazines and fashion bibles feature stick-thin models, but we’re real men who adore women with flesh on their bones, and Tracy Cunningham is definitely part of that select group.
Even more, the guys in my single dads WhatsApp say that not only is she sweet and wanton, but she’s also willing to let you go without protection so long as you have a clean test. It makes sense because Tracy’s already pregnant, so there’s no need for contraception when you can’t get an already pregnant girl even more pregnant. As a result, her phone’s been ringing off the hook, and I was lucky to snag my regular Friday night slot. But I’d been starting to wonder because it’s been four weeks now and there was nothing to hint at the minx within …until tonight.
I squeeze my cock beneath my desk. Fuck, did she really think I didn’t see? It’s dark in the hallway, whereas my office is brightly lit. But that doesn’t mean that she’s suddenly become invisible. I was busy on the phone, but a frisson ran through the air, and I sensed, rather than saw, Tracy outside my office. My eyes glanced at the clock, and sure enough, it was 9 p.m., about the time when Amelia goes to bed. So Tracy must have just tucked in my daughter, and was now lingering outside, likely out of curiosity.
At first, I almost put down my phone to see if I could help her with anything, but that’s when the air evaporated from my lungs because the curvy girl let out a silent giggle, and then undid her skirt. I watched from the corner of my eye as the soft material slid to the ground, puddling in a silky pool at her feet. My heart almost pounded right out of my chest as the sweet girl spun around on her heels and bent over before pulling down that sopping thong as well. Fuck, was it my imagination or was there a long string of girl grool dripping from that wet cunt? Even more incredible, she shot me a sassy smile from over her shoulder before pulling herself open to show me that gorgeous, creaming snatch.
That’s when I lost it. I was just about to jump over my desk before impaling that swollen softness on my hard stick when suddenly, Tracy vanished into the darkness. I don’t know how she did it, but suddenly she was gone, and now, here I am with a painful ache in my pants and a wet spot on my boxers.Fuck.
Go down, I growl vengefully, eyeing the hardness bulging at my crotch. Yet it doesn’t listen, even as my phone beeps with a message.
Did you do it?my brother James texts.I’ve heard good things about her.
Fuck you, I snarl at the phone although of course, James can’t possibly hear. I struggle and strain some more, finally getting my boner to soften. But it takes twenty minutes, which means that it’s finally time for Tracy to leave.
Standing painfully, I literally grab the armrest of my chair for a moment in order to get my balance. Then I make my way downstairs to the first floor, limping painfully like I’m an invalid. I am, in some ways, because even the sight of Tracy sitting innocently on my living room couch makes me wince.
“Are you okay, Mr. Patton?” the curvy girl gasps, struggling to get up from the sofa.
“No, no, stay where you are. You’re pregnant,” I rasp while waving her away. “It’s just a crick in my back from sitting for so long,” I lie. Thank God I had the foresight to put on my suit jacket before coming downstairs. It means that I’m painfully overdressed for speaking with the babysitter, but at least she can’t see the evidence of my arousal.
“Thanks for coming by,” I manage in a somewhat normal voice. “How much do I owe you for tonight?”
“Sixty,” Tracy says in a soft voice. “Amelia was a dream, and she’s sleeping soundly upstairs now.”
I nod and rustle around in my wallet before holding out a hundred dollar bill.
“Thanks,” I manage in a curt voice. But Tracy frowns, her pretty pout turning down at the corners.
“Oh, I don’t know if I have enough change,” the sweet girl murmurs while fumbling around in her purse, but I shake my head.
