The Babysitters Pink Panties Part 2: Crossing the Line - Sex Stories

The Babysitters Pink Panties Part 2: Crossing the Line

... girl worked up the courage to speak again. “Andy, that’s the hottest thing I think I’ve ever seen. It’s so beautiful.” She was almost panting. “Does it make your little pussy wet sweetheart?” I gasped. Feeling braver by the second and wanting to know what reaction I was having on her young succulent body. She broke eye contact, coyly staring at the floor before returning my gaze and whispered to me. “Mr Price, I’ve been wet since I caught you in the bathroom. Here.” She took the pink material that was still in her hand and dipped it below her shirt, returning the panties to my face with a glistening trickle that tickled the end of my nose and left a lingering scent of her juices on my skin. I was stroking a little more vigorously now, but kept the pace steady, resisting the instinct accelerate into a blurry fit. We seemed to sit there for the longest time. The girl absorbed by her first dizzying peek into sexual behaviour and the carnal manner I shamelessly teased my engorged dick with. As it continued to ooze with pre-cum I noticed the perky curious teen gradually appeared apprehensive and restless. It made me slow down and I eventually released the grip on my cock. “Jenna, what’s wrong?” I asked, genuinely concerned, catching my breath. There was a contemplated pause before she looked at me and bashfully and uttered something that made my jaw drop. “I want to show you something.” Her hands crossed her chest and found the straps holding the nightshirt in place. The ...

... material slipped down her arms enough that the neckline now gave way to the first hint of her, soft milky chest. “I think you’ve been trying to peek at these ever since the snow storm.” She said, hands trembling. It was my turn to gasp. Her breasts, perfectly formed, like grapefruits, popped into view, revealing small, hard nipples that sat high on her delicate mounds like precious gems on a golden crown. “Oh my god. Jenna, I don’t know what to say. You are so fucking beautiful.” “You can touch me.” Her voice quivered. “I want you to.” The blood once again rushed to my cock, which was now on its second wind, but I cautioned myself. I was like Armstrong, stepping off that lunar lander: the first man. The situation called for a particular approach, a delicate appreciation of the gift she offered to me alone. I wanted to reciprocate with the gentlest intent, but at the same time, I wanted her to feel the urgency of sexual desire. I clasped an out-stretched hand on the side of her face and thoughtfully stroked her cheek. “Are you sure?” I whispered. She said nothing. Her trembling hands took mine in hers and her breaths became shorter, the slightest pressure guiding me downward. With my fingers, I traced the curved outline of her right breast. She inhaled sharply, closed her eyes, and exhaled a smooth moan as I grazed her nipple with my thumb. It hardened at my touch. I searched her expression for further approval and didn’t have to wait long. As her eyes opened, glazed, and longing, ...