The Babysitter

_____________________________________________

“Did you ever wonder what would happen if we ever did it?”
“Excuse me?” Billie stared over the rim of his beer bottle at Ava, she stared right back.

“Seriously, what would happen if we had sex?”

“Your dad would beat the shit outta me and then I’d get sent to prison.” He took a bite of his pizza and laughed despite himself. She had balls, this girl who babysat his kids and his dog and his house. He allowed himself a peek at the part of her top where her breasts peaked demurely. The top was modest but the bottom sure as hell wasn’t, cut up to hear and then slit up both sides, it was a miniskirt that Adrienne would have called standing room only. He wondered why she was here. She said she forgot he was home, but then, she just saw him yesterday.

Ava smirked, watched the emotions flit across his face and stubbed out her cigarette on the deck railing between her thighs. He caught the movement and she grinned at the blush that tinged his ears before throwing a leg over the side of the deck and hopping back onto the floor. Billie watched her walk toward him, her hips swaying; telling him both that she was very, very confidant of her abilities and that she knew exactly what she was doing to him. He felt a bolt of something go straight to his groin and shifted uncomfortably on the picnic table.

Ava’s hair was up in a sloppy twist, held in place with a pencil, the modest white blouse tucked into that ridiculous pinstriped skirt, a pair of thigh highs (he knew they were thigh-highs because the skirt was so damn short he saw the lacy tops) and a pair of black, patent leather heels, she looked like the slutty office intern and he knew that she knew it. He wondered again if she dressed for his benefit or just guys in general.

Or that boyfriend, whatsisname.

Ava stopped when she was directly in front of him, she put a hand on the knee that rested on the table’s bench and then looked up into his eyes. The other hand fiddled with the lowest button on the blouse. “See, the thing is,” a lock of hair had fallen across her face, “I have this crush on you,” her voice was soft and once she said it she looked down and to the side, embarrassed.

“I thought you didn’t like me much,” the pizza lay forgotten in the box and the beer he held on his other knee could have been a rock for all the attention he was giving it now. She smelled like mint cigarette and passionflower.

She stamped her foot and jerked the hem of the shirt, “I lied,” she answered finally, her voice sullen. She bit her lip and looked at him sidelong, “I’m really pathetic.”

He rolled his eyes and reached out, tucking the lock of hair behind her ear and tilting her chin toward him. He noticed the freckle under her eye and wondered if she had any anywhere else. Then felt guilty for the thought. “Ava,” she jerked her chin away and he sat the bottle down on the table, cupping her face in both hands and forcing her to look at him. “Ava, you’re-“

She pulled away and walked back to the deck railing, looking out on the spacious backyard. From the way her shoulders were set he could tell she was hurt. He sighed, getting off the picnic table and walking toward her. He wouldn’t be seventeen again if they paid him. When he touched her between the shoulder blades she swayed on the ridiculous heels, dragging a deep breath into her lungs.

“Look at me, Ava,” he put his hand on her shoulder, gently trying to guide her around. She wanted no part of it.

“I wore this for you. I thought you’d like it.”

“Look at me, Ava,” he pulled her shoulder around so that she had to look at him. “You’re a pretty girl, you know that,” he was trying his damndest to ignore the pressure slowly building in his nether regions, hoping she wouldn’t pick up on it. But that little admission of hers was more of an ego boost than he would have thought it would be.

“I think about you, you know.” She bit her bottom lip again and twisted her hands together, “Times when I shouldn’t be. In the shower. When I’m in bed.” Here she looked back out on the lawn, “When I’m alone.”

“Why think about me then? Why not in math class?” He was trying to be funny, but it was awkward. This shouldn’t be happening. His self control was only so strong. She was gorgeous for fuck’s sake. And she had a thing for him, which helped. But she was Tom’s little girl.

“Because when I’m alone I can touch myself.”

Tom’s little girl who knew exactly what to say to make his ears ring and his dick say let’s go diving. “Ava-“

“It’s not like I expect you to like, date me, or something. I mean I’m still with Matt, you know. It’s just that, like, when I’m around you, I get all… achy. It’s like my whole body goes all trembly and I just want you to look at me. Or touch me. Or… something.”

“This would be wrong,” he was reaching for reasons not to do what he wanted to do. “I mean, you’re so young and-“

“I’m not a virgin, Billie. I could make it good for you too, you know.”

“Oh, you could,” he crossed his arms over his chest so he wouldn’t bend her over the deck railing right then. She nodded, her tongue darting out to touch her upper lip.

“Yeah, I could.” She stared up at him and her eyes were compelling, “Please?” Her hand settled on his crossed arms, “Nobody would have to know.” She put pressure on his forearms and he found himself bending forward slowly as she stood up on tiptoe to kiss him.

Her lips were soft, like dandelion fluff and he put his hands on her waist to steady her, almost as an afterthought. Ava swayed toward his body and the hand that settled on his chest flexed when he opened his mouth to her. Her lips tasted like her lip gloss, a little bit waxy, like frosted icing. Her other hand cupped the side of his jaw and he kissed her harder, his teeth almost biting her lip, his tongue playing with hers. She gave it right back. He wondered if she fucked as good as she kissed, then jerked. This is not the time to be having those thoughts, she’s only seventeen.

She’s a seventeen year old who knows exactly what she wants, the voice of reason muttered in the back of his head.

Yeah and you’ll be the one taking it like a man when Bubba the flannel wearing biker makes you bend over and take it like a man in prison, bud.

He broke the kiss, thoughts of cellmates sobering him a bit. “We shouldn’t do this.” But he didn’t sound nearly as convincing as he did a minute ago.

“You want me,” she sounded confused, maybe a little hurt even, “I know you do. I mean, you just kissed me, and-“

“I’m a guy, Ava. A pretty girl kisses you, you kiss back.” He turned around, collecting the pizza box and the beer from the table and walking back into the house. He spent the thirty seconds it took to put the box away trying to will himself back to calm. The fridge door hit him with cold and his man parts twinged. Get over it, buddy, he admonished, it ain’t happenin’ today.

Breasts pressed against his back and a hand snaked around his waist, two fingers traced the outline of his penis through the jeans and he jumped, nearly getting very personal with a bottle of pineapple juice. “You really going to tell me you don’t want me, right now?” Ava’s voice was sure of herself, amused even. She was back to her old self, no longer vulnerable.

Billie turned around, shutting the door behind him and leaning back against the fridge, staring down at her with exasperation in his eyes. “Yeah, okay? I want to fuck you. But it’d be wrong. In like twenty different ways, it’d be wrong. Mainly cause I know your dad.”

Her hands went to the buttons of her blouse and she very calmly undid the first one. He sighed, pushing past her to head to the living room.

Ava followed; he caught her in the reflection on the clock, her fingers deftly undoing the blouse one button at a time. When he turned back to look at her in the living room she was letting the cotton shirt fall from her shoulders. It fluttered to the floor and he got to see a lot of creamy skin and a very lacy maroon bra.

Hellooooo Nurse!

She’s only seventeen, you sick fuck!

“Ava, this isn’t going to happen,” oh that was convincing, slick. And I can tell how much she believes you too.

Ava smirked, if he didn’t know better he’d swear she could hear the debate going on in his head. Her hands snaked to the clasp behind her back and his breath hitched when it unhooked, her breasts falling free and the straps falling down her arms in one graceful movement. She stood there for a minute, quiet, watching him, her breathing long and deep, making her chest swell and fall with each breath. He was a little desperate now, he grabbed Joe’s Spongebob blanket from the couch and held it out to her, they were only about a foot apart now.

She inclined her head, taking the blanket and dropping it back on the couch she caught his hands in hers, guiding them to her breasts and holding them there. Her tits were warm and he felt the nipples hardening against his palms and he realized he was sweating.

Her skin was creamy smooth to touch.

Let’s play!

This is so wrong!

Dude, this is so cool!

“Are you sure you want this?” He knew when to give into defeat. Especially when everything below the belt seemed to be threatening to explode if he didn’t do something soon.

Ava cocked her head to the side before removing a hand from his hand on her breast. She very deliberately reached up and pulled the pencil from her hair. It fell in a heavy wave around her shoulders and she tossed the pencil behind her. His hands slid to her back and then to her waist, pulling her forward. He wondered if he controlled his own body anymore.

Not when you’re being stupid, man, now I’m in charge.

He wondered when his penis grew a voice in his head.

About as soon as you hit puberty, moron.

“Kiss me, Billie,” she effectively silenced the voices in his head and he obliged. Wanting to devour her mouth and no longer trying to hide his erection. She moaned against his lips and snaked her hands up and around his neck. Her bare breasts against his tee shirt felt like heaven and she twisted her upper body back and forth, rubbing them against him. He felt a throb and walked her backward, his hands at her waist traveling downward to the hem of the skirt and in between the slits to feel more of that skin.

That was how he figured out she wasn’t wearing underwear.

Dude, throw her on the ground like now man!

Ava shivered when his hands squeezed her buttocks and his ego grinned somewhere in his head. Not bad for an older guy, if I can affect her like that, huh? He broke the kiss, easing her arms from his shoulders and jerking the tee shirt over his head quick. Ava bit her lip when his hands went to the button on the jeans. He felt a twinge of disappointment. “Having second thoughts?”

She looked back at him, shaking her head she watched as he slid the jeans down his thighs, taking the boxers with them. His penis flopped wetly and she grinned, flashing teeth. At his questioning look she lifted a shoulder coyly, reaching out with her hand to gently touch the head. It jerked toward her and she laughed, “I never get over how weird they look.”

He laughed and sat down in the leather chair just behind him, taking her wrist and pulling her with him. Ava didn’t actually sit, but leaned over the overstuffed thing and kissed him again, this time it was her devouring him, her fingers played with his body, teasing, torturing, before she straightened. Lifting one leg she removed the shoe, dropping it with a soft thud on the floor she did the same with the other. He waited for her to remove the stockings but she didn’t. She stared at him, contemplating, before shaking her head.

“Not here.”

“What?”

“Come with me,” She turned, not looking to see if he’d follow and headed off toward another part of the house. Billie contemplated for a split second before hopping up to follow her. Ava stopped in a room at the back of the house, it was the room where he kept his instruments, guitars lined the walls and there was a grand piano in the center of it. Why she chose this room he had no idea. After following that ass down that hallway, ask me if I care, B.

She cupped her breasts in her hands, “Sit,” she indicated the only seat in the room. The piano bench.

Oh that’ll be comfortable.

“Why here?”

“Why not here?” she gently pushed him to the bench, sitting him down on it and straddling him matter-of-factly. He leaned back and put his arms on the piano. A cacophony of sound crashed through the room and he winced. She chuckled, placing fingers on the keys to flit a quick melody. “Why here?” she challenged, rising on his lap and sliding herself over his waiting cock. He groaned, his hands fisting and then sliding up her stockinged legs under the skirt. She moved over him and his fingers tightened on her waist.

She hadn’t removed the skirt and he found that somehow more erotic. He couldn’t see anything down there, just had to go with feeling. And what feeling! She was tight around him. Her skin was soft, her movements graceful, if a little hurried, and her breasts right at eye level like that made him want to dance a jig. He noticed the freckle in the center of her chest and bent, laving it with open mouthed attention and Ava threw her head back, her hands tangling in his hair.

Her hips snapped and then snapped harder, she was tight and wet around him and he bucked up to meet her, one hand going down to cup that ass and the other holding onto the piano bench for support. Her left hand fell behind her and he realized when he felt her fingers brush his balls exactly what she planned to do with it. His lips closed over the pulse at her neck and she gasped for breath, her hips not ceasing their rocking.

He sat up straighter, then jerked to his feet, pulling her with him, she stared up at him in surprise, he’d pulled out and she was only just getting started. “What-“

He kicked the bench sideways, ignoring the crash and grabbed her, lifting her bodily and depositing her on the keyboard with another loud crash of sound. Ava’s thighs opened without his encouragement and he stepped between them, shoving his hands into her hair and himself back inside her with a smooth thrust. Ava’s legs wrapped around his waist, flesh on flesh, wet slapping, and mutual groans. Keys playing discordant notes. His eyes closed and the animal in him took over, thrusting harder, practically lifting her, he knew he must be hurting her, her back must be shoving painfully against the piano, but he didn’t care.

“Billie-“

His name was a plea on her lips and he ignored it, giving her what she so desperately wanted, ignoring social mores in the process and shattering the image of Ava as the good little PR guy’s daughter in the process. Because she looked anything like a good little girl now, he thought with a smirk. Her bloody red/black hair tangling over her shoulders, her skirt hiked up to her waist, her head thrown back like that, those moans, and, he discovered as his fingers went to play with her clit, her completely shaved mound wetly taking him into herself and clamping muscles around his cock like she’d like to keep it up there.

“Oh, fuck me, Billie,” her fingers were holding his shoulders, his back, and his ass. Anything to keep him doing what he was doing.

“Like this?” His voice was a growl and he liked the shiver it sent through her.

“Mm, just like that,” she was breathless and she fell completely back against the piano, her body lifting upward, tightening for him, around him.

He used the opportunity to attack her breasts again.

Her little cries were sending his mind all over the place. He angled her hips once more and nudged something farther up inside of her that made her gasp and then groan, long and loud. He grinned, leaning over her body, his voice next to her ear. “Do you like that?”

“Don’t stop!”

“Does Matt make you feel this good?”

She shook her head weakly, clenching her eyes shut and groaning, “Harder, please-!”

“Tell me what you want, Ava,” his hands crashed on the keyboard, then gripped it, thrusting deeper, longer. She was going wild, matching him thrust for thrust and she was tightening even more around him. He knew she was close.

“Ah! Make me-“she gasped when he closed his lips over her collar bone, his teeth scraping her skin, “Make it happen, please-!”

One of his hands went back to play with her clit, the palm closing against her mound and holding it, his index finger holding her clit instead of flicking it, keeping a constant pressure that made her writhe. He could tell the exact second her orgasm hit her and he laughed with pure masculine triumph. She yowled like a scalded cat and then arched her body hard against him as waves attacked her.

Her walls tightened around him, then tightened harder and the strength of it surprised him, made him saw harder into her, his thrusts wilder, less controlled. He came in a scorching gush and then stopped, his ragged breathing reminding him that he was getting to damn old for this. And then he laughed, looking down at her prone body on the piano and her shaky smile. He grinned.

“Was it good for you?”

Ava stared up at him, a slow, easy grin spreading across her face. “You’re dreaming, you know. If you think this would ever actually happen.”

“Huh?”

********************************************************

Billie woke up in his own bed, the covers kicked down to the foot, a pillow shoved to his face and a very messy situation with the sheets. It was a dream.

That’s just great man. Not only are you not getting’ any, but you’re a cliché.

I am not a cliché.

The babysitter, man?

Oh shut up.