Loving the Babysitter

By: Cassandra Dee

But I couldn’t help my body’s reaction because there aren’t very many hot men on campus, they’re mostly just boys, gangly adolescents with teen acne and wisdom tooth pains. And while there have been a couple boys interested, they were just that, boys, juvenile and lame. Next to Mr. Parker and his dark dominance, the guys at school reminded me of puppies, annoying, yapping at my heels, always trying to paw me. So yeah, Mr. Parker was a nice change, a real man who was assertive, assuring, always in charge.

But something was different this time. Maybe it was because I was standing mere inches away, my nose practically touching his, but Mr. Parker’s jaw was clenched, nostrils flaring, and a dark stain lit his cheekbones. My heart suddenly began pumping a million miles a minute. Could it be? Oh my god, was Mr. Parker aroused by me? By plain old Mandy Smith? My nipples immediately perked, insides growing wet from the realization that this perfect male animal wanted me.

But I guess it’s not that weird because I have changed a lot in the last year. Like I mentioned, I used to be really ugly and unfortunate looking. I was thin as a twig with braces, with frizzy brown hair and Coke-bottle glasses and no fashion sense. But I decided I didn’t want to start college looking like Punky Brewster’s older sister. So I got the braces removed and started wearing contacts, which was tough because it’s literally putting something in your eye, it freaked me out at first.

And somehow, as if sensing my desire to transform myself, my body began a metamorphosis too. I put on significant weight and am now curvy instead of stick thin. Fortunately, I’m young so all the weight went to the right places and I’ve got big Double D’s plus a wide, swinging ass, and thick thighs. Okay, I guess I wish the thighs were a little thinner, but you know what? After eighteen years as a stick figure, I can handle a little heft down there, a little junk in the trunk.

So I guess it wasn’t so strange that Mr. Parker noticed my changed body. There were boys at school who’d asked me out, making it clear that they’d be only too happy to take me to bed, do the dirty on our first date. But I dunno, I didn’t want to lose my virginity in some tiny dorm bed, so narrow that I even have trouble sleeping in it alone. And besides, on the first date? I have nothing against pulling the trigger fast, but still, those guys were so puppy-like, I couldn’t possibly. So I was saving myself for something more, for a sensuous, memorable evening, not some drunken fling on a hard mattress.

And Mr. Parker would be a good time, I could feel it in my bones. Oh god, if he took me to bed … oh god yes, I’d be so into it, breasts vibrating with his nearness, feminine instincts immediately attuned to his masculine dominance. Heat flared in my pussy, growing embarrassingly moist and I forced myself into the present once more. Mr. Parker’s way out of your league, I scolded myself. Even now, he’s probably headed out on a date with some gorgeous vixen, not a naïve eighteen year-old like you.

So as you can tell, I still wasn’t exactly confident mentally. Sure, I had a new body and some newfound attention from the opposite sex, but inside, I’m still the same old me, Mandy Smith, no one special, nerd extraordinaire. Shaking myself back to reality, I managed to hoist Violet away from her dad finally, and the little girl burrowed her blonde head against me, still sobbing, miserable.

“Mandy,” she cried through her sobs, “I missed you.”

And my heart immediately went out to the little girl. Shame on you, I scolded myself. Thinking about your non-existent sex life when a little girl’s had her heart broken.

And immediately I clicked into maternal mode.

“Come on honey,” I said, hugging her small form close. “Come on, let’s go to the kitchen and I’ll get you some dinner.”

And as Violet calmed, her little fists unclenched, lifting her head to nod at me with wide, tear-stained eyes. Mr. Parker let out a deep sigh of relief then before heading over to the hall closet to grab his coat.

“Thanks so much,” he rumbled, turning to look at us once more, his hand on the doorknob, blue eyes piercing, oh so magnetic. “I know I can trust you with Vi, Mandy, you’re amazing.”

And I colored despite my resolve to be easy-breezy and casual.

“Of course, Mr. Parker, it’s no prob, I love Violet.”

And Mr. Parker looked hard at me once before smiling, white teeth flashing.

“I know you do,” he said in a low voice, “And Mandy,” he said, clearing his throat suddenly, “don’t you think it’s time you called me Pete now?”

I giggled a little. I knew Mr. Parker’s name was Peter Parker, and it was so funny. Just like Spiderman?

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