Message-ID: <1882eli$9707031017@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: www1@aol.com (W W W 1) Subject: Kristen's collection: Kelli1.txt Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <19970702224000.SAA06649@ladder02.news.aol.com> :::::::::::::::::::::: Description: A classic Babysitter story part one of two ::::::::::::::::::::: [ from Kristen's collection ] __________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age (Under 18 years old) PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW! __________________________________________ Scroll down to view Story Archive name: (Kelli1.txt Authors name: Hank Freeman Story Title : 'Sitting for Kelli' Story 1780 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Contains: sex between adult male, and juvenile female. If this subject offends you (and it should) or you are under 18 years old, please delete this file now! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~from Kristen's collection~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1 - D O I N G F A V O R S --------------------------- At first I thought `what have I gotten myself into?' I had agreed to baby-sit for the neighbors whenever they were going out, since I was home alone in the evenings anyway. I had made the mistake of telling Pete and Judith, who lived in the adjacent townhouse, that my wife worked nights and that I spent most evenings watching cable and playing games on the computer. Their eyes had fairly lit up when I said that, and they had immediately asked if I could baby- sit their two kids from time to time, so they could get out of the house. Ugh. How could I refuse? I'd just told them I did nothing in the evenings, so I couldn't very well make up an excuse now. Their boy Jeff was twelve and Kelli, his older sister, was fourteen. Were they sure these kids even needed a baby- sitter? Kelli certainly looked old enough to take care of Jeff, if he even needed any looking after. Judith was adamant, though - kids should not be left alone. What if someone broke in? What if there was a fire? Fine, fine, I had said, though I had to wonder if someone *did* break in if I would stick around to be of any use. I arrived at 6:00, just after they had finished dinner. Their place was pretty messy, especially compared to our spotless home (my wife is a neatness fanatic), but I assumed that was due to the presence of the kids. I expect- ed a night of real horror after seeing the disarray around me; `these kids must be monsters,' I thought. Pete greeted me with a smile. "Say, Hank! We really appre- ciate this, pal. We're finally going to get out on our own for the first time in, god, how longs it been honey?" Judith emerged from the kitchen, wearing an evening dress with a plunging neckline. She was a nice looking lady for someone 15 years my senior. "Forever," she said, and smiled at me strangely. "Yeah, forever. Anyway, we're going to Les Miserables and then a late supper. Midnight too late for you?" "No, not at all," I said, wincing internally. "My wife gets home about then, so I'll just call her and tell her I may be over here when she gets home." As I was talking, I began to hear some decidedly loud thumps coming from upstairs. Pete noticed me glancing at the ceiling. "Kids!," he yelled up at the stucco, "knock it off and get down here." I heard giggles and more rumbling, then footsteps came running down the stairs. Little Jeff emerged first. He was awfully short for his age, and wiry. He really looked like a much younger kid than he was. But then, Pete looked like a kid too, and he was over 40. Genetics. Right on Jeff's heels, and tugging on his hair, was Kelli. If Jeff had looked half his true age, Kelli looked almost twice hers. I remembered when that film director, Polanski, got in trouble for messing around with a minor and he claimed that he'd thought she was in her twenties. I had taken an `oh, sure' attitude about that, but now I knew what he meant. Kelli was a lovely looking girl. She had an hourglass figure, long smooth legs, large breasts for a 14-year-old, and a face that reminded one incredibly of Elizabeth Taylor in `National Velvet.' Or maybe Natalie Wood in some of her younger roles. Her soft brown hair fell in lovely, loose, natural curves all around her neck. And she was very tall for 14 almost as tall as my wife. If I did not know better, I would have bet she was 19 or 20. She was dressed in a knee-length T-shirt with a picture of a teenage mutant ninja turtle on it, and that combined with the roughhouse play she was engaging in with her brother were the only indications that this was a kid. Pete made the kids stand still and he introduced them to me. I had seen Jeff playing around the complex, but had never met him or even seen Kelli. "Hi," he said, looking away. "Hi," Kelli said, looking me right in the eye. Her expres- sion had a kind of boldness to it, but she still looked terribly innocent. I held that gaze for an uncomfortable moment, then looked up to see that Pete and Judith had already started heading for the door. "You kids be good - mind Mr. Freeman," Judith said, not looking. Pete followed her out the door without a word. They told me nothing about who to call if there was a problem, or any of the stuff I'd thought one would tell a sitter. Pretty neglectful parents, I thought. The kids showed it. For the first hour things were rocky. These two just would not calm down. They wrestled, tumbled, and ran over most of the house, and I felt weird telling them to `settle down' and things like that. It made me feel like my father, and hence rather old. I began to see why the place was such a mess. I decided to retire to the TV room and hoped the kids would get tired soon. I was watching some nudie flick on the Playboy channel, and things got reasonably quiet for a while. Then all of a sudden I head a loud *bang* followed by crying. I ran into the kitchen and saw Jeff lying next to the under sink cabinet. I felt my heart jump when I saw the blood running down his face. Kelli was standing next to him, looking too innocent and doing nothing to help him. "Damn!" I said, and hurried to check him out. As it turned out, the cut was very small and looked far worse than it actually was. I glared at Kelli as I was calming Jeff and cleaning the cut with a paper towel. "I didn't do anything," she said, indignantly. "Sh-sh-she pushed me down!" Jeff said, sobbing. "Nuh-uh! Did not!" Her voice was high and frantic. She'd done it, of course. The kids did that `did not, did too, did not' thing for about a minute until I bellowed for them to shut up. Jeff looked good as new once I got the blood out of his hair. I could not even find the cut anymore. They went running off to do more damage and I cleaned the spatters off the kitchen floor, swearing to myself. Before I could even get back to the TV room I heard another thump, and more crying. This time it was Kelli who was the victim. Jeff had obviously tripped her as she was running up the wide carpeted stairs. She was laying in a heap on the tile at the foot of the stairs, crying and holding her knee. `Dr. Hank, call to surgery,' I thought. I sent Jeff to his room, rather angrily, and knelt to examine Kelli's knee. Jeff ran up the stairs sulkily. I could not help but notice that her long T-shirt had ridden up to her waist, and as I checked out her left knee, my eyes kept wandering to her white cotton panties. Her sobs were subsiding as I ran my hands over her knee - there was no damage that I could see. But I prolonged the moment, my mind reeling madly as I noticed the tiny curls of pubic hair that were peeking around the legbands of her under- wear. All of a sudden I was being turned on by this girl, my dick was hardening, my heart was beating faster, I felt my breath coming shallow and quick. I could barely see the folds of her labia, or imagined I could, through that thin white material. My attentions to her knee had caused her legs to spread slightly, and I found myself pushing the knee farther, pretending to look for damage, watching feverishly out the corner of my eye as the edge of her pussy began to barely peak out from the elastic. I began to slide my hand down a bit from her knee, feeling the taut youthfulness of her thigh. "Ow!" she said, and I looked up. I had spread her legs far enough that she'd felt it. Her face was red with a blush. "Um, your knee looks OK," I said. "Thanks," she whispered, then bolted up the stairs. Had she seen me looking at her pussy? I was not sure, but something seemed to have made her react. Confused and turned on, I returned to the TV room. The Playboy channel was still on, showing some playmate who was golfing in the nude. I switched off the idiotic thing and sat in an easy chair, my mind filled with what had just happened. I was no child molester; that I knew for sure. Kelli's young body had turned me on, but that was natural, wasn't it? And all I had done was look - how could I help myself? The girl was a knockout, though she clearly did not know it. I mean, to have ignored that pretty little cunt when it was staring me in the face would have been inhuman. Wouldn't it? My dick would not soften. I tried to think of mundane things like work and gardening, but no matter how hard I tried, my thoughts ran back to Kelli's thighs, Kelli's pussy, Kelli's little hands wrapped around my cock shaft, the sheer madness of sinking my prick, centimeter by centi- meter into that tight little quim. Oh god, this was insanity - how could I get this girl out of my head? I turned the Playboy channel back on - they were showing a softened version of some porno film. I took out my cock and began to beat off feverishly. I turned the sound down so I'd be sure to hear if the kids came downstairs. I shot off in about a dozen strokes, pouring my sperm into a paper napkin that was sitting on the end table. 2 - K E L L I'S C O S T U M E ------------------------------- In the days that followed I found myself becoming increas- ingly obsessed with Kelli, thinking almost constantly about that moment at the foot of the stairs. Sometimes I could almost convince myself that I had reached down and stroked her pussy though her panties with my fingertips. Other times I imagined ripping through that thin cotton material and sinking my tongue into her tight twat. All of it was bullshit, all of it drove me crazy. I was almost too quick to agree with Pete and Judith when they asked me to sit with the kids again. They did not seem to notice my strange eagerness - but that was not too sur- prising. When it came to their kids they seemed to notice damned little. It was the weekend before Halloween, and the kids were fussing about their costumes. Pete and Judith had left abruptly, again leaving me with no instructions, and I was trying to help the kids, especially Kelli, to finish up their costumes. Jeff was going to be a cowboy. Easily done, all you need is jeans and a plaid shirt, a cowboy hat, a six shooter in a holster, and maybe some chaps. Jeff had all these things but wanted to be a Marshall, so I made him a star out of tinfoil. Kelli waited patiently for my help with her costume, which was to be a female vampire. Once the star was finished, Jeff ran off upstairs to look at himself in the mirror and play in his new costume. "I want to be a vampira," Kelli said, holding out a black swath of material. The swath was actually an extremely slinky, tight nylon dress that she'd borrowed from her mother. She also said she had a set of false fangs she'd bought at the novelty store, and a black wig an aunt had given her for a witch costume the previous year. "Well," I said, "if this is your mom's dress I doubt it will fit you. She's a lot bigger than you." I glanced at Kelli's chest. "Taller, I mean..." "I also need a cape, and I don't know where I'm going to get that." She looked dejected. "Well, let's take one thing at a time. Have you tried the dress on?" She shook her head no. "OK, well let's see how it fits." I expected her to go off somewhere and put the dress on, then return so I could see the fit. Naturally, in that part of my mind that was still remembering her little wispy hairs peeking out the edge of her panties, I wanted her to change right there in front of me. What I got was something in between. She went behind a sort of Japanese screen they had near the fireplace, and took off her jumper. But the glass door of the fireplace made a pretty good mirror, and I had a darkened, but reasonable view of her as she slipped the dress on. I did not see much, since she wore a bra and panties, but I was struck by how slim her waist was. I thought I might be able to get my hands around it complete- ly, thumbs touching in front, middle finger s in back. I felt myself getting hard again, especially when I noticed how strained her bra was. Her mom had not noticed how much Kelli had grown and bought her a larger size. Her appear- ance in that tight bra was extremely sexy, since it emphasized the fact that she was just then blossoming into womanhood. She came out from behind the screen. The dress, which was obviously intended to be mid-calf length, piled up on the floor, and the waist was somewhere between her hips and her knees. Not the proper effect, but sexy as hell since the neckline, already intended to plunge, was almost to her navel. We tried and tried to adjust the dress, and during this time I had several chances to run my hand over her tummy and the small of her back. The feel of her was fantastic - so smooth and firm. I suggested that we might be able to bring the dress up by shortening the shoulder straps, and while standing behind her I demonstrated by pulling the dress up by the straps. I watched that silky black material slide over her body, and my boner became a real problem. I sat down quickly while Kelli held the straps up and knotted them. "This should work, though the knots will look funny." She noticed my distress. "Are you OK Mr. Freeman?" "Yeah, sure. Just a leg cramp." I doubled over to massage my leg, and also effectively hid my hardon. "What do we do about the cape?" she asked. "Well, I think I have a black bed sheet that will work, though you'll have to give it back." I was still rubbing my leg, and watching her curves through that dress. I was hoping she'd leave to play, like Jeff, so I could take care of my problem. "You have black sheets?" she asked, amazed. "Sure. Other colors too. So?" "I thought they were always white." She shrugged. "Well, thanks. That pretty much does it I guess." Without another word she walked out the door and I heard her ascend the stairs. I did not wait a second. I whipped out my painfully hard erection and flicked on the Playboy channel with the remote. They were showing, oddly enough, a woman dressed as a vampire, but with nothing underneath the cape. As she spread her cape wide, she undulated her hips and heaved her breasts as she hissed. Pretty sexy stuff. I began to stroke my cock slowly, trying to enjoy the sensation and imagine Kelli was the vampire, beckoning be to fucked by curling her black tipped fingers. I had not turned the sound down. So I did not hear when she came back into the room. Suddenly I heard a gasp behind me. Without thinking I whirled around, and there was Kelli. She had retrieved her false fangs and had put them in her mouth. She'd also put on the black wig. Obviously she wanted to show me the costume - and now she was standing there stock still, staring at the hard cock in my hand. I should have tried to hide myself, or cram my dick back into my pants, but I was too stunned to do anything for several seconds. Kelli had started to say "I vant to suck your blooood", in a Beli Lugosi-type voice, and had said simply "I want to suck your..." before I had turned around and had stopped her in her tracks. Now the irony and sexiness of that partial statement caught me, and I was just stuck there, sitting like an idiot with my dick in my hand. "God," she said, finally. Her voice brought me back to reality. I hurriedly turned around and painfully jammed my shrinking dick back into my pants. I muttered some kind of apology, but by the time I turned back around she was gone. I heard her running up the stairs. The wig and the fangs were on the floor. What to do? My mind was totally divided between two terribly conflicting ideas. One half of me was still incredibly aroused by the memory of Kelli standing there staring at my penis and telling me she wanted to suck me, even though I knew that it was an accident of fate that put those words into her mouth. My other half was terrified of what might happen if she reported the inci- dent to her parents. At best they'd get pissed and maybe tell my wife. At worst I could end up talking to the police. I decided I'd better talk to her about the whole thing and make sure she understood that I did not mean her to see me like that. I cautiously went upstairs. I checked in on Jeff first and found that he'd fallen asleep in his cowboy outfit, lying on top of the covers. I covered him as best I could with the bedspread, which was balled up on the floor and looked as though it had been there for some time, then turned off his light and closed the door to his room. Kelli's room was on the other side of the bathroom, a bit down the hall. As I walked the short distance to her door I went through all the things I might say, in my mind. Nothing seemed to sound right, though, and I decided to play it by ear. I had no idea how experienced she was or what she knew about men and sex. 14 is a nebulous age; some girls have even had sex by then. Others have barely thought about it. Kelli's room was dimly lit from a desk lamp in one corner. Like the rest of the house, her room was a disheveled mess, though she had left no clothing on the floor as her brother had. Mostly there were stuffed animals and maga- zines everywhere. Kelli was sitting in a window seat and staring outside when I came into her room. When she turned to look at me her face was a mixture of confusion and defense. I crossed the room and sat on her bed - I did not consider that to be lascivious at the time, it was simply the far- thest spot from her and I did not want to be threatening. Looking back, I suppose the symbolism was pretty strong. She went back to staring out the window and I realized that I was going to have to speak first. "Kelli," I began, "I'm really sorry about what just happened. I didn't mean for you to see me like that." She said nothing for a moment, and I was about to try and phrase it another way when she said: "I know. I'm always doing that." Doing what? Make grown men jack off? "Always doing what?" "Always interrupting private stuff. Like with my mom and dad." She looked terribly glum. "You walked in on them in bed?" "They weren't in bed - they were in front of the fireplace and I just wanted to get my Tiger Beast that I'd left on the TV set and I walked in and saw them.... doing it. Sort of." "Oh." Sort of? How can you do it `sort of'? "Anyway, my dad got really mad and told me I was a peeking tom and mom got even madder and wouldn't talk to me." Her face dropped from glum to positively sad and I felt truly sorry for her, though her reference to `peeking tom' was cute enough to make me smile a little. "Well, you couldn't help it. You didn't know." "Another time," she continued, almost ignoring me, "was with Jenny, our old baby-sitter. I came downstairs late because I forgot to take my vitamin B for flea bites and I saw her with this boy... on the stairs. I had never seen the boy before, but they were doing stuff and they got really mad too. They made me promise not to tell or they'd tell my parents I was touching myself or something. I was scared already. I wouldn't have told." She looked at me, a sort of pleading in her eyes. "I'm not trying to see anything. It just keeps happening to me. Don't be mad, OK?" There was a tear running down her left cheek. Amazement turned to relief. She was more concerned with what I might say to her parents - she had not even con- sidered saying anything herself. I stepped over to her and put an arm around her shoulder. "I'm not mad, Kelli. Not at all. It was not anyone's fault; just a mistake. I'm sorry I made you sad and made you think about those other times. Why don't we just forget about it?" She smiled. "Thanks Mr. Freeman." "Call me Hank." She blushed a little, then all of a sudden gave me a very womanly look. "Thanks, Hank." "No problem. Good night." I started to leave, and had gotten to the door when she asked me: "Can I ask you a sort of personal question, Hank?" I turned. She was still sitting at the window seat, but had turned to face the room. The straps on the dress and slipped back, and the neckline hung low on her. I could see the lacy trim of her bra above the scoop, and could see the tops of her breasts rising out of the one-size-too small cups. I sat on the floor near the door and brought my knees up, looking casual but hiding my rekindled erection. "Shoot," I said, trying to sound totally at ease. "Well, um. I was wondering... Well, if you don't want to tell me it's OK, but..." "Ask away, Kelli. You've seen everything I have to hide already." She laughed embarrassedly into her hand. "Um, well. I have seen a guy's.. thing.. three times. And, well, I just wondered how come when you wear pants it doesn't, like, show. Like a tent. You know... poke out, like..." She thought men were in a perpetual state of erection since she'd only seen dicks when they were hard. Sorry to have to break the bad news to you kid... "Well," I said, "a man is not always hard. Most of the time it just sort of... hangs there." She giggled. "Oh. Really? Well, then... but... uh... I don't know. I mean, how does it... um...." She obviously wanted to know what made men hard, but was too shy to ask. I held up my hand. "It's like this. When a guy gets aroused - sexually excited, like when your baby-sitter and her boyfriend were fooling around on the stairs - then the guy gets hard, like you saw." "It... gets hard?" "Sure. Just sort of swells up and gets really stiff. Don't they teach you this stuff in health class?" She shook her head. "Your parents have to sign a thing, and my mom wouldn't. Well, I think maybe she lost it. So, does it hurt when it's like that?" This was strange, this beautiful little girl was asking me intimate details about my cock. If it were an older girl I was having such a conversation with, I would have assumed we were in for some action; I had to remind myself that this one was only a kid. "No. Not really. It's very sensitive, though. Like when your leg goes to sleep and is just waking up, you feel everything like little tingles?" "Yeah, that's a weird feeling," she nodded her head. "Well, that's sort of the feeling, but nicer." There was a very heavy silence for a moment, as she turned away, then back to face me, then away again. Finally, she said "so my dad got excited because my mom had his thing in her mouth." Ah, so that was doing it `sort of.' "And that boy was excited from putting his thing up against Jenny's poochy..." "Poochy?" "You know. Down there." "Oh. You mean pussy." "Oh? OK, well... pussy." She blushed a deep red. My rising boner jumped a bit at hearing her say that word. "Anyway, so um, so why did you? Get excited I mean. Was it that TV show with the naked vampire lady?" This was a key moment. I did not want to lie to her, but I did not want to scare her either. I had avoided a major possible disaster, and it was not a good time to plunge back in. "No. And I don't think we should talk about this anymore, Kelli." I got up and turned to the door. She rose, panic in her voice. "Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry. I was just curious. Don't be mad..." Over my shoulder, against my better judgment, I said "It was you, Kelli. I saw you changing clothes in the glass fireplace door. That's what made me hard. I'm not mad." I closed the door and walked downstairs. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /