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Just Babysitting

I finally convince Mr. Newman that I'm more than just a babysitter...
Everyone says that your high school years are the best years of your life. For me, that’s only half true. High school sucked on so many levels. People either loved you, or they hated you, usually for the most pathetic reasons that most often came from a spark of jealousy, therefore causing rumours to spread. There was the fear of busting your ass; only to walk away with a mark that would honestly get you nowhere in life, and finally, teacher’s found any excuse to be on your ass. For me, this happened on a number of occasions… In more way than one. And that’s no rumour.

My reputation in school was always “the crazy party chick who managed to get honour roll every year.” Friends envied me, but would soon discover me useful whenever exams were drawing near. I was the study aid they never knew they needed, though teachers despised me for the fact that I would skip their classes about three times a week, and still manage to grade well on their tests. There was only one class I don’t think I ever skipped, and that was my grade eleven English class – making me 17 at the time – with Mr. Newman.

See, I’m sort of a nerd in that way. English has always been my forte, with Shakespeare my hero and Poe my weakness, I found that class interesting each and every day no matter how small the lesson I learned. It also didn’t hurt that Mr. Newman was always a welcome sight.

With dark, somewhat curly hair, blue eyes, and a slight dusting of facial hair, his face was kind and soft, while his body resembled that of a man who worked outdoors doing heavy lifting each day. This meant he had a constant tan, and a hard upper body. Even through the soft, blue fabric of his shirt I could see the way his muscles moved and tensed as he handed out the outlines for our final novel studies.

I leaned forward on my desk; my eyes on the paper beneath my chin while my mind was free to play with the idea of what Mr. Newman really had hiding beneath his shirt... his zipper. I bit my lower lip and quivered slightly as a rush of warmth overcame me, suddenly craving a certain man’s touch between my legs. I decided to cross them instead; after all, I was still in class.

The final bell rang, causing me to jump ever so slightly in my chair. Like everyone else, I began packing up my bag, eager to get home and be lazy for the night, but before I could make it out the door, someone called my name. I turned, not really knowing who I was supposed to be looking for, until I noticed Mr. Newman smiling at me from behind his desk.

“Could you come here for a moment, Samantha?”

“It’s Sam,” I corrected him for about the hundredth time. He either didn’t hear me, or didn’t care as he motioned for me to sit down in the chair on the other side of the table.

“I have a favour to ask of you. Now, I know it’s a little last minute and all, but I’m a little stuck...”

This didn’t surprise me. Mr. Newman asked me for certain favours at least once a month, and I was always happy to do them. But they weren’t the favours I would have preferred to be doing.

“You need me to babysit again, don’t you,” I sighed, slumping slightly as I took a seat.

“Are you asking me, or telling me?” He laughed, leaning back ever so slightly in his chair. My eyes fell down to between his legs, which were parted slightly. The fabric of his pants was now tight over what I knew I would be craving for the next few hours if not more.

“Telling. I knew you would need me soon,” I said flatly, my eyes still caught between my teacher’s legs. He cleared his throat, alerting me to the possibility that I should advert my gaze. With what felt like a great amount of difficulty, I managed to look him in the eyes.

“You have no idea. You know I hate having a student – one of my students nonetheless – help me out like this... But you’re the only sitter Cassie will listen to, let alone go to sleep for.”

“I always tell you, you don’t need to pay me, Mr. Newman,” I murmured softly, leaning forward in the chair, to place my elbows upon his desk. It was now his turn to ogle as I watched his gaze fall from my face, to my chest, where I knew my breasts were pushed to the point of almost escaping my bra, let alone the thin white tank top I had on. I grinned, and wiggled ever so slightly, wanting a reaction.

Unfortunately, this snapped him out of it immediately. Not even close to the reaction I wanted.

“I told you, Samantha... That would probably make things look worse. I know some of the kids here say things about you doing this for me.”

That was true, but I didn’t care. If those creeps thought I was fucking Mr. Newman, let them think it! I know I liked thinking about it every now and then, why wouldn’t they? Instead, I nodded, and gathered my bag, knowing I was nearly excused.

“It’s Sam. And usual time, Mr. Newman?” I asked with a sigh.


I was surprised as I made my way to the door that he didn’t choose to follow me out. Mr. Newman always had this thing about opening the door once I was about to leave, but today, he stayed put in his chair. Just as I was reaching for the door knob, I stole a glance over my shoulder. Concealed beneath Mr. Newman’s tight pants was a definite hard-on.

I rushed home faster than usual that night, a grin on my face, with my car barely put into park before I jumped out and ran up to my room, throwing my clothes off as I went. As I closed my bedroom door behind me, the only item I had on was a pair of thin lace panties, which were soon stripped as well as I threw myself down on my bed, my fingers immediately exploring the wetness that had grown between my thighs. I rubbed at my pussy furiously, circling my clit with one finger while I pushed deep inside with another. Within minutes I brought myself to a shuddering orgasm, Mr. Newman’s name on my lips.

The rest of the afternoon went by slowly. I cleaned myself up before moving onto my homework like a good girl. I then shoved a quick dinner down my throat, showered, and started getting ready for my drive to my English teacher’s house. By ‘usual time’, we had meant the normal 6:30 at which Mr. Newman’s daughter, Cassie would be fed and happy, and he would be ready to go out and do... whatever it was he did. I never bothered asking, and still don’t know what he had been up to to this day.

I dressed in something that was quite usual for me; a pair of short jean cut-offs, and a thin black t-shirt with a sloping v-neck. Some may call it skimpy; I simply say that I’m comfortable with how I look. After dabbing a little perfume along my neck and collarbone, and an attempt to pull a brush through my still damp hair, I was ready to go.

“Bye mom! I’m babysitting again tonight,” I called, walking down the stairs. My mother had no clue that this “Mr. Newman,” was my English teacher. In fact, she thought that he was a kind, little man who was married to a sweet, little woman and the two of them were parents to an angelic young girl by the name of Cassandra. She had no clue that in reality, her daughter was looking after a child who quite often acted as though she was possessed, all the while hoping that her sexy teacher would one day throw her in bed and ravish her in the ways she pictured while rubbing her pussy into oblivion nearly every day after getting home from school.

“Have a good night, Sam,” she called in response, just as I grabbed my keys from the hook, and skipped out the door.

I think I sped that night, on my way to Mr. Newman’s place. I really don’t care, I just wanted to possibly speak with him before he had to run out and do... whatever it was he was doing. I pulled in the driveway, parked beside his truck, and made my way to the front door, where that beautiful man was waiting for me.

“I never said thank-you for your coming on such short notice, Samantha.” His voice was like silk, and it sent small goose bumps over my arms.

“No worries,” I chirped, refusing to correct him yet again. I shot a smile towards the little, blonde, porcelain doll that was peeking around her father’s leg.

“Hey, Cassie. Ready to have some fun tonight?”

The little girl nodded, and grinned, her blue eyes shining brightly. Damn this kid was evil, but she was fucking cute, alright? She looked almost nothing like her father, aside from those piercing eyes. I bent at the waist, and cupped her cheek; a quick jolt of electricity slid down my spine as I felt eyes fall upon my backside, as I knew the bottom of my ass was definitely visible as of now. “That’s a good girl,” I purred, glancing over my shoulder to catch him in the act.

“Bye Daddy!” Cassie exclaimed, grabbing my arm to pull me inside. I followed her happily, knowing “daddy” was the man watching the extra wiggle I added to my walk.

I spent that night playing monopoly, and watching Barbie movies whilst Cassie brushed and played with my hair. I truly believed that Cassie was a total brat when she was with the other sitters, but they just didn’t know how to handle a spoiled little girl. Give her what she wants, and she’s putty in your hands. Unless she wants ice cream before bed… There was no talking her out of that temper tantrum.

After some calm convincing, a glass of water, and a bedtime story, she was sound asleep under her covers, with her lights off, and her door closed.

It was at this time I did what I usually did when Cassie fell asleep: Explore Mr. Newman’s house. I had left off at the kitchen last time, had already done nearly every room... except his bedroom.

Now, I know, you would think that his bedroom would be the first spot I would look, but no. I wished to save the best for last. My entire body shivered in anticipation as I walked down the hall, and turned the brass knob I knew would open to reveal where it was Mr. Newman- my handsome English teacher – slept at night.

His room was simple, if not totally boring at first glance. Light beige walls, royal blue covers tucked tightly atop a spongy mattress, and a single window with the shutters wide open were the only décor attempts I noticed off the start.

I still didn’t know where to begin, so I walked around his room, picking up things at random and brushing my fingers along the walls. I opened his closet, flipped through the hangers, and looked at his clothing. I almost considered picking out his outfit for the next day, but dismissed it as strange. I then moved onto his drawers. Socks. Boxers. Some money, rolled into a tight bundle, and tucked in the back corner. Nothing exciting.

I did, however, manage to save the best for last: The bed.

I crawled over the covers slowly, imagining his body was lying beneath me and I was sliding my body up and over him. I buried my face deep into a pillow and inhaled a familiar scent that sent a pleasant chill down my spine, and made my pussy become wet with desire almost at once. With a happy sigh, I slipped over onto my back, only to notice the most interesting part of the room.

The man had a fucking mirror over his bed. God how I loved him.

I laughed to myself and rolled over once again, my hand falling to his bedside table, curious as to what was inside. As I expected, there was a beautiful collection of porn – both of the magazine, and DVD variety – crammed almost to the top of the drawer.

I’ve always had a thing for dirty movies, dirty pictures... anything with raw, hot, hard sex I’ve always loved. I considered popping in a DVD, the thought of masturbating in my teacher’s bed was both exciting, and highly taboo, which made it even more tempting. But instead I chose the newer issue of Fox and began flipping through the pages.

I must have fallen asleep, because next thing I knew, I was being rocked back and forth gently, and someone with a smooth, intoxicating voice was calling my name.

I sat up with a jolt, remembering at once where I was.

“SHIT! Mr. Newman... I... I...”

To my surprise, he laughed, and reached out to brush a strand of hair off my face. “It’s alright, Samantha. My bed is definitely more comfortable than the couch,” he said gently while reaching down beside me to close the magazine. “Doing some extra reading?” He asked, his eyes now obviously skimming over my entire body.

“I like porn,” I blurted out. I don’t even know why I said it, except for it being the only thing that came out. I shrugged it off rather quickly, and decided to go on.

“You have a great collection, Mr. Newman. Really... well... hot.”

He seemed a little taken aback, but laughed once again. “Well, thanks, Samantha.”

“Yeah... I have no idea who that blonde chick is in there, haven’t seen her before, but she is absolutely gorgeous,” I could have stopped at mentioning my love for porn, but I didn’t. I wanted him to talk dirty to me, tell me what he liked, and hell, I was already in his bed, right? “I don’t know what it is, but she has the most perfect tits I have ever seen.”

His head tilted sideways, much like a dog when they’re confused.

“Oh yeah... I’m bisexual, Mr. Newman.” I giggled, flipping my hair over my shoulder.

“I suppose you can call me Zach, Samantha... I mean, you are in my bed.”

My stomach did what I could only describe as a back flip. Was this getting somewhere? I planned my next movements very carefully, and as I slipped my hand up between my English teacher’s thighs, I whispered, “I would... But Mr. Newman sounds so much hotter.”

And just like that, he was on me. His tongue in my mouth, hands all over my breasts. I kissed him back, deep and hard, my tongue curling around his, keeping him locked on my mouth as my hands worked their hardest to undo his zipper – which I swear was welded shut. Although, when I finally got it undone, and slipped my hand inside, he pushed me away.

“Wait. Samantha... this is so wrong.” His voice revealed worry, and distress, but I kissed it away.

“Shh... Mr. Newman. This is only wrong if it feels wrong,” I murmured, lifting my shirt up and over my head, “and right now, this feels pretty damn awesome.” I slid my hand back inside his pants, ignoring his typical worry, and pulled his cock to the side. It bobbed into view immediately, causing me to drool in desire. I wanted nothing more at that moment than to put it deep in my mouth. I wanted to taste him, make him cum.

With one hard, swift movement, I pulled off both his pants, and his boxers, his proud cock flying into full view. He wasn’t as long as he was thick, but either way, his cock was beautiful, and perfect. I cupped his balls gently, and stroked his shaft with my other hand, taking a moment to look up into his eyes.

“Suck my cock, Samantha,” he urged, taking all of my hair into his hands, and pressing me down towards his throbbing penis. “Let me put my cock deep in your throat.”

FUCK, dirty talk turns me on! I pushed his cock through my lips at once, slowly running my tongue along his shaft and head, getting him thoroughly wet before bobbing hard and fast, his cock slamming deep into my throat with each thrust. After a couple minutes, Mr. Newman began moving his hips with my thrusts, causing me to gag as more, and more of his cock made its way into my mouth. Soon enough I was deep throating his cock, my chin pressed up tightly against his balls.

I pulled my lips off of his cock with a loud pop, and looked up at him while I circled my tongue around the tip, pausing only to kiss, and suck certain places.

“I want you to fuck me, Mr. Newman... show me how that mirror works,” I hummed, leaving a trail of wet kisses from his cock to his hip, my eyes still locked on his.

He grinned, and in one swift moment flipped me over, his hands all over my body once again. “Oh, I’m going to fuck you, Samantha, you little tease. You don’t think I know what you do? Wiggling those tits and that ass at me every day?” He nearly ripped my bra off before roughly taking a nipple into his mouth. One hand wrapped tight around my other breast, which he kneaded and flicked before rolling the nipple between his fingers. His other hand fell between my legs to my now soaked pussy.

“You’re a little slut... Aren’t you Samantha?” He growled, while running his fingers along my covered slit and probing me slightly through the fabric.

I stole a glance upwards at the scene playing out on the ceiling, a moan escaping my lips, “Oh yes, Mr. Newman. I am a slut. Fuck me… Please fuck my pussy hard!”

And he complied without hesitation. Within seconds my shorts and panties were off and on the floor, and his lips were all over my skin, starting at my neck, then moving over my breasts, down my stomach, and finally to my pussy. I shuddered in anticipation for what I knew was about to come.

Mr. Newman licked my slit, his tongue was smooth and warm against my skin. He licked, and sucked my outer pussy lips gently before dipping a finger inside, and then two, keeping them shallow at first, but gradually he went deeper, curling his digits as he did so, finding a secret hidden spot deep within me.

Mr. Newman’s tongue then began flicking gently over my clit before taking the entire little button into his mouth while he continued to finger fuck my tight little hole. I moaned deeply, my fingers tangling themselves in his dark, curly hair, pulling him closer into me. He licked my inner thighs, adding another finger to my hole before replacing them with his tongue.

I let out a little scream as his hand worked to stretch my pussy wider and wider; only to have it muffled by Mr. Newman’s rough hand.

“Hush, Samantha. Cassie can’t know her daddy has a little, slutty, school girl in his bed.”

I shook my head, and giggled, “Oh no, no she can’t. But her daddy still has to put his cock deep inside my pussy...”

And just like that, I had my English teacher’s cock inside me. He didn’t do it gently, just slammed my pussy with enough force to make me scream, and if I wasn’t biting my lip, I definitely would have.

Mr. Newman grabbed my thighs tightly, and lifted them up towards my face so that my knees were beneath my chin, allowing his cock to be super deep inside me. Not only did this feel amazing, but it looked amazing as I was still watching everything on the ceiling.

With every thrust of my teacher’s hips, a soft groan was released. My nails dug deep inside the mattress as I felt pleasure building up inside of me, a warmth starting to boil deep in my belly. I must have been getting loud, because once again, Mr. Newman’s hand fell over my mouth, the fingers that had once been deep inside my pussy forcing their way between my lips. I gladly lapped up the juices, and increased the suction around his fingers with every pounding I took; imaging his cock was in my mouth once more.

“Get on your knees,” Mr. Newman muttered before yanking his cock from between my legs. His hand wrapped tightly around the hard member, roughly jerking himself off as he watched me put my ass up in the air, waiting for him to take me from behind, doggy style.

Once again, when he entered me, it wasn’t gently, but a rather hard slam. I was expecting it this time, but it still caused me to inhale sharply due to the force. It was growing more and more obvious that my teacher liked it rough, and when he grabbed my hair so hard it caused me to arch my back at an impossible angle, I knew it to be true, which was totally fine by me. I love being a fuck toy, especially to a strong man like Mr. Newman.

I’m sad to admit that sex didn’t last long, but if he was half as excited as I was, I’m surprised it lasted as long as it did. As I felt an orgasm bubbling up inside me, Mr. Newman bent over and said in my ear, “You're going to make me cum, Samantha.”

“And you’re making me cum!” I cried, my back rising in another arch as my pussy clenched around his cock, releasing my juices all over his dick. Now, I’ve been told that it feels good for a man when a woman cums, because of how tight their pussy can get when it’s having a spasm. This must be true, because just as I said this, Mr. Newman released his load deep inside my pussy.

“Fuck,” he said with a smile, his cock still twitching inside my pussy as he sputtered to a stop. His hand wrapped around my face, and brought my chin towards his face, where he planted a kiss on my forehead before climbing off of me.

“Fuck indeed.” I laughed, rolling as well, my lips falling back over his cock in order to lick him clean. I licked, and sucked a combination of both our cum from his shaft until he became soft, and sleepy. I would have loved to have taken the entire load in my mouth, felt the warm, silky fluid run over my tongue and down my throat, but this would have to do.

“This can never happen again, Samantha.” He sighed, slipping his boxers back over his legs, and covering the gem I had just discovered.

“Oh I know, Mr. Newman… Just until I babysit again.”

I went home not too long after this, the scenes playing over and over again in my mind. And to this day, it has been one of my favorite thoughts to turn to when I have a lonely, horny moment alone.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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