My Babysitter's Secret

Chapter 2 - Keeping My Babysitter's Secret

As soon as the coach left, my heart began to flutter with each step Mrs. Jones took up the stairs. Even though she has no idea I was spying on them through the keyhole and masturbating while they were having sex on my parents' bed, she knows I heard them and I had a feeling she was on her way to me. True to my expectations, she soon knocks on my door, even though it's ajar.

"Can I come in, sweety?" she asks softly.

I sit up in bed, taking a deep breath, realizing there's no point in pretending to be asleep any longer. Mrs. Jones is standing in the doorway, her hair disheveled, a far cry from her usual neat appearance. My mother's silky robe struggles to contain her curvier figure, her ample bust almost spilling out. Her eyes meet mine, a tumultuous blend of sadness and desperation within them, and I feel a twinge of sympathy for her despite everything.

"Yes," I mumble.

Mrs. Jones walks into the room and takes a seat on my bed. She gives me a small, weary smile before reaching out to gently tuck a stray strand of my blonde hair behind my ear.

"You're so pretty," she says softly.

Her touch lingers for a moment, caressing my cheek before her thumb grazes the contour of my lips. The gesture feels strangely intimate, making my heart pound in my chest. Her green eyes lock with mine, captivating me, and for a fleeting moment, as her plump red lips part slightly, I brace for a kiss. But she pulls away, her hand dropping from my face. Why am I disappointed?

"I know you heard us," she says. "I wanted to thank you for keeping our secret."

Her words linger, and it seems like she's expecting a response. But I'm torn about whether to keep their secret, so I manage only a hesitant, "I... I don't know what to say."

Mrs. Jones offers a gentle smile. "I've been so unhappy with my husband. Lonely, untouched, craving intimacy... John filled that void."

Her hand then slides beneath my blanket, resting on my bare thigh just below the hem of my nightdress. As her fingertips lightly graze my inner thigh, goosebumps erupt on my skin. The touch sends a jolt of confusion and uncertainty through me, further clouding my thoughts. I shift uncomfortably, unsure of how to react.

"Are you still a virgin, sweety?" she asks, her eyes piercing into mine.

I feel a mix of shock and discomfort at her question, unsure of where this conversation is heading. My mind races as I try to come up with the right words to respond, but all I can muster is a shaky, "No."

Damn! Why did I tell her the truth?! She's my mother's friend, and my parents still believe I didn't have sex with Ben. The room suddenly feels suffocating, and I desperately want to get out of this unsettling situation.

"Then you understand," she continues, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The need. The ache. Even when you try to resist it, lust consumes you."

She spoke each word with such eroticism that it was difficult for me to breathe, and I found myself wanting to experience the intensity of desire she described.

I'm rooted to the spot as her hand creeps under my nightdress, gently tracing up my thigh. My heart pumps with a mix of excitement and fear. Part of me knows I should stop her, but there's a strong urge to just let go and explore this uncharted territory.

"Did you enjoy listening to us?" she inquires, her voice dripping with a sensuous undertone.

The question throws me off guard, sending my thoughts into a frenzy. Is this a test? I try to figure out what to say next, caught up in the uncertainty of this provocative game she's started. Her fingertips lightly graze my panties, and I gasp in surprise, feeling a surge of pleasure shoot through my body.