It was her eyes. Such a pretty, pale blue magnified by her thick glasses. And the way she was looking up at me when she stammered out, “P-please, Mr. Hook. Will you teach me how to please you?”

How could I ignore such a sweet request? I looked down at her, already so obediently on her knees. Her blonde hair was tied in two pigtails, which I bounced in my palms before tightening my grasp around them. “Why do you want to learn, Bobbie? Do you have a boyfriend?”

She turned a bright shade of crimson and bit her lip. First, she shook her head. Then she opened her mouth several times, looking for an answer. I was tempted just to slide my cock between her sticky pink lips, but I knew the answer would be worth the wait. Finally, in almost a whisper, “No, I want to learn to be a good cock sucker for you.”

Bobbie’s eyes looked to the floor, too embarrassed by her confession to look me in the face. I stroked her head gently and she purred. “Look up here, the first thing I want is to see you looking at me.”

She nodded and scrunched her eyes tight. So cute. Then she tilted her head back and looked up. “Now what?”

I met her gaze. Those fucking eyes. God, they drove me crazy. Such a wonderful shade, like the sky on a clear day. Gave her such an innocent look. I reached down and put a finger on her bottom lip. I gently pulled down, parting her trembling lips. “I think you know what’s next.”

I slid my dick into her mouth, and was surprised and frustrated. It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t wet.

“What the fuck?” I tried again, and she just looked up at me sweetly. “What’s wrong with your mouth?”

She spoke, my cock still in her mouth, yet it was perfectly clear. “Stop poking me with that thing.”

“What?”

She spoke again, this time with my wife’s voice. “For fuck’s sake, Mitch! I’m trying to sleep!”

————————————————————————————————————————

“I’ve got work in the morning, holster that fucking thing.” Annoyed, Claire pulled my groping hand from her breast and sat on the edge of the bed.

I sheepishly adjusted my erection and moved away from her. “Sorry.” Fuck, third time this week. “I didn’t… I was dreaming again.”

“Yeah, I know you.” She sighed and looked at the clock. Two in the morning. “But sorry doesn’t get me any sleep.”

“I know.” This was getting to be a problem. It felt like I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing Bobbie.

“What was it this time? The dream.” Of course, I wasn’t about to tell Claire about my uncontrollable fantasy about our babysitter.

I scrambled for a believable lie. “Halloween last year.”

She perked up at this and smiled. Dropping into a bad, sultry French accent and addressing me formally, “Oh, Monsieur! You liked the naughty maid? Oui! Of course you did!”

I mean, sure. I tried to picture Claire's outfit. Her cleavage nearly spilling out the low-cut top, the cute little frilly apron she wore, her curly red hair draped over her face as she rode me. That was a fun night. But the more I tried to recall it, my mind tried to put Bobbie’s petite frame in the uniform.`

Claire sighed deeply and gave me a loving smile. She crawled toward me and pulled down the covers. “Monsieur, I do not have time to dress up.” Then she licked her lips as she slid my boxers down over my erection. “But maybe I could quell your passions for tonight!”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that the shitty accent work wasn’t doing it for me. But her soft lips did. “A maid without her uniform servicing me in bed! What will my wife think!”

Claire threateningly nipped at the head of my cock, causing me to jump. With a smug wink, she answered, “She would be most angry! But worry not, this is our secret!”

Claire was good to me, a kind wife and a loving mother. And fuck, she gave the best head! But as her bad French impression gave way to the wet sounds of sucking and subtle gagging. I didn’t want to think of her.

I closed my eyes and imagined my shy little sitter’s head bobbing up and down.

————————————————————————————————————————

Bobbie was the daughter of Claire’s boss. She was finishing her last year at her private high school. Bobbie’s mom wanted her to work. We needed cheap childcare. On paper, it was a relatively innocuous arrangement.

Claire and I had two kids. Jack was ten and Mary was six. They are the light of my life. I suppose most parents feel that way. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect them and make them happy. And they both adored Bobbie, who watched them for a few hours after school till I got home.

Bobbie has been sticking around later. She helped finish up the kiddo’s homework and kept them occupied while I cooked. Lately, she’s been asking me to teach her to make dinner, often joining us for supper.

I started sneaking out of work early so I had more time with Bobbie before Clare came home. I know, I shouldn’t. Fuck, I really should just tell Bobbie to go home when I get there, not like I'm paying her overtime.

“Wow, Mr. Hook! That smells really good!” Her braids dangled into the pot of bolognese, threatening to dip in the sauce. She stood on her tiptoes. I couldn’t help but appreciate the extra inch of thigh revealed as she bent over the stove. She looked back at me, her glasses steamed up, and her smiling lips were shiny from her glossy pink lip gloss. “I love this recipe! Can you give it to me?”

‘Can you give it to me?’ she says. Fuck, that’s going to be rattling around my skull tonight.

“I would be happy to teach you.” How could I send her away? She was adorable, kind, and had that innocent sexy mystique that always confused me. I want to protect and care for Bobbie. I was also fantasizing about bending her ass over the kitchen counter and ripping off her panties.

“Thanks, Mr. Hook. Since I was a kid, Mom worked late. We normally only get takeout. She can’t boil water, let alone teach me cooking.”

“Anytime, sunshine! I’m happy to have such an eager student.

“Your kids are so lucky, you’re the perfect Dad!”

I laughed, “Oh, come on now. No, I’m not.”

"Yes, you are." She grew quiet and introspective. “Mr. Hook…” Her azure eyes welled with tears.

“Bobbie, what is it?”

“It’s… It’s stupid. Never mind. I should leave.” She turned toward the door. But I couldn’t let her go, not when she was so sad.

“Talk to me, kiddo.” I reached out and touched her shoulder. She jumped, so did I. I shouldn’t have grabbed her like that.

Nervously, she fidgeted before looking up and meeting my gaze. I could barely hear her over the boiling pasta water. “C-can I hug you? Maybe call you Daddy?”

Something dark churned in my heart. Something I had to stop. “Um… I’m not sure. Some people might get a weird idea.”

“Weird?” Her voice was quivering, and she choked back a sob. “Sorry. That was stupid.” She was heartbroken, and I couldn’t stand it.

“Listen, how about… just when it’s us? Not in front of my kids.”

She perked up, her smile practically glowing. “And not in front of your wife?”

Claire would cut off my balls. “Definitely, not anybody. But if it makes you feel better, I don’t want you to be sad.”

“So I can call you Daddy?” She bounced excitedly.

“Sure.”

“And hug you? And maybe you can hug me back? Not in front of anyone, like you said!”

It was unfair. She held her breath and flashed her fucking eyes at me! How could I refuse? “Sure, Bobbie.”

“Oh, Daddy! Thank you!” She threw her arms around and buried her face in my chest.

Nervously, I hovered my hands in the air, not quite knowing where I could appropriately place them. “Of course, sunshine. Anything for you.” I settled on wrapping my arms around her shoulders, squeezing her against my body. She smelled like candy and berries. And she nestled her face under my neck before looking up.

“You’ve been really nice to me when you don’t have to. Thank you, Daddy. You’re a good man with a kind heart.”

————————————————————————————————————————

“That was…” Claire kissed my chest and affectionately ran the tips of her fingers through my chest hair. Her breasts heaved as she steadied her breath. “Fuck, what got into you?”

My breathing had just slowed. “You looked good.” She did, of course. Claire always dressed in what I would lovingly describe as ‘office whore adjacent.’ Never anything too overt, like short skirts or cleavage spilling out, but she favored clothes that were always a bit too tight. She was proud of her curves, as well she should be.

“Well, yeah. But normally you don’t get that worked up over a pencil skirt and button up.” She shifted upward and looked me in the eyes like she was trying to figure something out. “And you don’t normally get so… insistent. You were practically dry humping me every time the kids weren't looking."

I shrugged and did my best to act nonchalant. I was worried where this line of questioning might lead. “Can’t a man lust after his wife. Look at those tits!”

She smirked. We both loved her breasts. With good reason, too. “You were rough, too.”

“You seemed to enjoy it.”

“I did!” She was practically buzzing. “It was just unexpected.”

“I just did what seemed to be working for you.” In truth, it wasn’t her womanly body that drove me on. It was the feeling of Bobbie’s tight frame pressed against me earlier.

I had to get Bobbie out of my head, so I focused on my wife, like I should. My hand lowered and began to fondle Claire’s breasts as she appreciatively moaned. “You need to let me sleep. It’s the middle of the week. Gotta get up early. The kids have school. And you have that big budget presentation tomorrow.”

I ignored her logical assessment of our schedules. Instead, I rolled her on her back and pressed her tits together. Bobbie was too flat to titty-fuck. I hoped this would get her out of my mind. “You can go to bed when I’m done with you.”

“So savage!” She giggled and worked her hand between her thighs. She gently began fingering herself as I started sliding my cock between those soft, warm pillows. I teased her nipples with my thumbs like she liked. “Whatever you say, Sir.”

Sensually squirming, Claire performatively moaned to try to satisfy me.

But I just thought of Bobbie. Her fogged-up glasses… how she wore too much makeup… When she asked, ‘Can you give it to me?’

“Fuck!” I blew my load while my head was poked out the top of Claire’s cleavage. The spurt shot up her face and into her hair.

“For fuck’s sake, so much! Mitch, go get me a towel.”

————————————————————————————————————————

“Bobbie, you made this?” Claire was always polite to Bobbie. Hiring her put her on good terms with her boss. But I could tell that Claire didn’t really care for her. “Mitch, now you’ll have more time to get to the lawn.”

“Oh boy! Lawn work!” My kids laughed at my inflected enthusiasm.

“Dad hates lawn work!” Mary giggled. “He is lazy.” That sort of stung. I didn’t like her picking up stuff like that from her Mom.

“Oh, don’t pick on your Daddy!” Bobbie jumped to my defense. “He works hard for you kids. You know, I’ve always wanted a nice Daddy like yours!”

Claire was too busy focusing on cutting her chicken to see Bobbie sheepishly grinning at me over her glasses. Clair loaded her bite onto her fork and offered me to our babysitter. “Well, if he forgets to mow the lawn again, you can have him.”

Everyone but Bobbie had a small chuckle.

“Oh, Mrs. Hook! I almost forgot. Someone named Patrick called from your office. He wanted to see what hotel you were staying at for the conference next month.”

Claire went still. So did I. “Patrick? Didn’t he quit a few months ago?” He used to work with my wife; they were always together. Suspiciously cozy in my opinion. Late nights in the office, business trips… she jokingly used to call him her ‘work husband.’

I never pushed, never asked. I had trusted my wife to be faithful and promised myself I wouldn’t become some old-fashioned, controlling husband. But I had my suspicions.

“Yeah, he quit.” She stuffed some chicken into her mouth. I didn’t like how she was buying time. "Patrick’s new job is still in our industry, and we’re still both going to the same conferences. He probably just wants to catch up.”

“Oh.” I looked at my wife, and she kept her attention on her plate. No one said a word for several awkward minutes.

Claire scooped up her plate and took it over to the dishwasher. “I’m going to go return his call, don’t want to be rude. I mean, I’ll be so busy at the conference I probably won’t even have time to see him.” She scuttled away.

I realized Bobbie was looking at me. She looked concerned. “It might rain soon. Mr. Hook, would you please drive me home?”

————————————————————————————————————————

“Daddy, is something wrong?”

Daddy, right when I started driving, she called me Daddy. “It’s… don’t worry about it.”

“Dinner felt strange today.”

“No… it’s…” She put her hand on my knee.

“Tell me, Daddy.”

“That Patrick guy... Listen, I shouldn’t be telling you this. But I sort of thought he and Claire… you know…”

“Oh.” Her small hand squeezed my knee. That felt nice. “How long ago did he quit?”

“A year, I think?”

“He calls a lot, I recognize his number. This was the first time he’s spoken. Normally, he just hangs up when I answer.” She spat it out so fast, I think it took us both by surprise. She cupped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry, I ought to have kept quiet.”

If I have to be honest with myself, I didn’t need to be told. Claire often stayed late in the office. She would rush to take a shower when she got home. Always chatting with ‘friends’ on her phone while hiding her screen from view. Fuck, really obvious.

“Daddy, you look sad.”

“Bobbie, thank you for telling me. But please don't worry about this.” My mind was numb. I wish I could go back to being ignorant of it.

“Pull over, Daddy. Off the road. I want to tell you something.”

“I should get you…”

“I said pull over!” I was surprised. I had never heard Bobbie raise her voice with the kids, let alone me. She seemed genuinely angry.

“Alright.” We weren’t far from her house, and I pulled up next to an elementary school with a dark parking lot. “What is it?”

“You’re a kind and gentle man! You love your wife and kids, and you don’t deserve to be treated like that!” She undid her seatbelt and leaned over to hug me. It felt nice to have her so close.

We sat in the dark, holding each other.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. Is there anything I could do?”

Those eyes, those fucking eyes. They made me dizzy. I leaned in. I couldn't even think. I kissed her soft lips. Her thick, pink lipstick was tacky and tasted like berries. And she slipped her clever tongue into my mouth and played with mine.

I couldn’t believe I did it. It was stupid, ignorant. This could only make things worse.

“Oh, Daddy. Thank you.” She was so shy, I could feel the heat radiating off her reddened cheeks.

————————————————————————————————————————

I wasn’t in the mood for fucking cheesy dirty talk or bad French accents. I didn't even try for foreplay. Claire’s silent compliance as I fucked her ass was honestly as damning as a confession.

Bobbie had pitied me, and I fucking hated that. I hated Claire, at least tonight. It’s not like I didn’t see this coming. I hadn’t talked to her about it in earnest or done anything to prevent it. But I was still angry.

I cupped my hand over her mouth and had the door locked. I did my best to forget my kids existed. I remembered Bobbie telling me I was such a kind man. Fuck, I didn’t want to be.

I wanted Claire to feel used and degraded, like I did. I liked it when her legs kicked and how she cried out when I buried my cock in her ass. I wanted her to know I could be cruel, too.

After I came, I rolled off her. Didn’t say a word. And I thought that was that.

“Fuck, Mitch. Why haven’t you ever fucked me like that before?” She was smiling, and she ran her fingers through her curly, wet pubic hairs and laughed. “I could use more of that treatment.”

Bitch, she didn’t even have the decency to be upset. She fingered herself before falling asleep. I watched her, breathing in and out. She had liked it. I had been married to this woman for over a decade and had no idea what got her off. Probably why she found someone else.

I felt lonely, unsatisfied.

So I thought of Bobbie.

And I closed my eyes and stroked myself while thinking of the taste of her lips.

————————————————————————————————————————

Over the next few weeks, I grew possessive. I stole kisses from her, sometimes sweet little pecks on the cheek when no one was looking. Sometimes, pulling her into my lap and jamming my tongue down her throat while the kids were upstairs.

Every time, she thanked me. Every time, she blushed.

I couldn’t get her off my mind, so I purchased a Nanny Cam. The kind that looks like an unassuming book. At work, I would bring up my phone and watch her play with my kids. The more I watched her, the more I realized how… odd she was.

She never watched TV. She never played on her cellphone. No friends came over to visit ever, let alone boyfriends. When the kids were quietly playing, she would come down to our living room and start flipping through the family photo albums.

I’ll admit, I jacked off to watching her...