VRO IMAGINES

BABYSITTER

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TWENTY-YEAR-OLD STOKELEY GOULBORNE permitted his large doe eyes to wander her figure shamelessly. At the age SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD KULTURE was she had the body of a grown woman. Puberty hit her hard at such a young age. She had an hourglass figure, big breasts, wide child-bearing hips, buttocks, and thighs that made her look conspicuous to the naked eye. She looked like an adult by the body, but most couldn't decipher. She had a round baby face, and she had an innocent wide-eyed look that made her look years younger. Kulture cupped her hand and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked straight ahead peering sightlessly at the wall refusing to acknowledge the man beside her.

With the Hennessy bottle clasped in his hand, Stokeley staggered to his feet as he nursed the bottle, moving rhythmically backward and forward on the soles of his Air Max. Stokeley squinted his eyes at the girl after taking a gulp of his drink "Where the bathroom at bruh," he asked her in a whiskey-soaked voice. With a heavy sigh, Kulture rolled her eyes in a circle as she stood to her height disregarding her cheeky panties being engulfed in her booty. No way in hell was she giving this man satisfaction and sight of her digging a wedgie out. "Damn," he mumbled as he held himself by the manhood, discreetly letting the pink muscle of his tongue overlap his bottom lip as he staggered closely behind. He was in a light trance at the way her booty was jiggling in her pink boyshorts.

The material clung to her hips and cupped her underbutt perfectly. Kulture stopped at the bathroom and swung around, pivoting to face Stokeley. She scrunched her face up at how close and personal he was invading her space. "Boundaries nigga. Ever heard of that?" Stokeley matched her facial expression, not liking the attitude that was evident in her tone of voice. "If you don't get the fuck," he retorted, bucking at her causing her back to meet the cold wall of the hallway surprised at his actions. She mugged him as she walked around him heading towards the kitchen. Kulture opened the fridge and grabbed the pitcher full of lemon-lime Kool-Aid Stokeley prepared. She retrieved a red plastic cup from the cabinet and proceeded to pour herself some. Putting the pitcher away she stepped back out in the hallway sashaying. She noticed the bathroom light was on and slightly cracked. She sipped her drink and furthered towards the bathroom.

The door made a creak as it opened more. Stokeley used the wall for support to hold himself up and had his other hand enclosed around the shaft of his dick to better align it with the toilet bowl. Kulture eyes widened and her mouth became ajar at what she was witnessing. She couldn't turn away. The veins protruding in his dick reminded her of a lightning strike. Stokeley buried himself back in his Ethika boxers and saw Kulture's eyes open wide. His eyes met hers, but she broke it off taking off up the stairs.

She bust open the guest room door and leaped in the king bed and buried herself under the shaggy duvet. Her heart slammed in her chest as she forced herself to steady her breathing and try to remove the image from her brain. Stokeley stifled a laugh and began his way up the stairs staggering to comfort the frightened girl. Once he reached the door of the room, he couldn't help himself but to chuckle at the view of her wrapped up in the duvet like a child.

The raspiness of his laugh boomed through her ears, making her face heat up from embarrassment and want to disappear into the comfort of the bed even more. Stokeley smirked to himself as he took hold of the edge of the comforter and yanked the remaining warmth off of the developed teen. Kulture batted her long natural looking 3D mink false lashes that enhanced and brought out the shape of her green contacts. "Fuck you got something in my eye!" she whined, careful to wipe her eye due to her having long acrylic nails and not wanting to risk getting chemicals from her eyelash extensions in her eye. "Go in my luggage and get me my makeup bag!" she hissed, mugging him. "Do I look like your fucking bellboy?" Stokeley asked her.

Kulture watched with hooded eyes as he wrapped his plump lips around the bottle top, suctioning the bitter taste of the alcohol on his taste buds. He wiped his mouth and glared at her "If you don't take yo ugly ass to sleep," Kulture was fed the fuck up as she got out of the bed and dropped to the floor on her knees, unzipping her suitcase. She then stormed over to the closet and yanked it open with aggression damn near knocking it off its hinges as the door slammed against the wall knocking a picture over. Stokeley's legs felt weak, but nonetheless he stumbled to the angry teen who was snatching her belongings off the hangers. "Yo Ima need you to chill the fuck out," he said slurring , dropping the last three words of a sentence to a grumble. Kulture disregarded what he said and continued to pull her clothes off the hangers. Slapping the clothes out of her hands, Stokeley seized her by the neck and began to pull her out. He tossed her onto the bed like a rag doll and towered over her with his slender fingers wrapped around her throat. He moved his mouth to her ear "Don't move. Don't say shit bruh,"

Kulture's chest heaved up and down as she listened to Stokeley's baritone voice whispering harshly in her ear. It was barely perceptible at first, and then unhurriedly increasing in volume. She felt his hand leaving her windpipe and their eyes meeting instead. His eyes fell down to her neck glancing at the slightly purple patch of skin from where he had applied pressure. Subconsciously his fingers began to stroke and caress her neck soothingly before applying his lips to the already purple area.

PART TWOOOOOOOOO? Don't forget to vote or comment and add to library. Thanks for reading