Driving Heidi Home - Sex Stories

Driving Heidi Home

... of pussy. I growled under my breath, felt my cock lurch, tossed the suit back up on the rod, and went to find my wife. I gave her one of the soundest late-afternoon fuck sessions she had enjoyed since Brian's birth. Hey, I thought, I'm not that perverted. I may get my appetite from the sitter, but my wife's still the meal! Over the next few weeks, I continued to torture myself over the sweet little babysitter. Usually, I'd only see her when she first arrived and when Traci and I returned home from wherever we'd gone. Often, I drove Heidi home, but I was careful to almost always wait until Traci specifically asked me to do the duty--I didn't need her getting any suspicious ideas. Luckily, Traci doesn't like to drive too much, particularly after a cocktail or two, so I often got the pleasurable chore. Whenever I was near Heidi, I found reasons to touch her. An open hand on the small of her back as I opened the car door for her, an unnecessary playful mussing of her hair, a hand on her shoulder with a hearty "you're in charge" as Traci and I left for the evening. I rejoiced in any contact with the adorable little pixie, and Heidi also seemed to like the familiarity. A girl her age needs a father in her life, and I think that in his life-long absence she took comfort in what she interpreted as avuncular affection from me. A couple of times, we had Heidi over to watch Brian even though we were at home. This was a great convenience for us, particularly on weekend afternoons, since ...

... we always had a lot of little things to do around the house, and having someone to mind our son made accomplishing them a little easier. Besides, my wife watched him all day, every day, during the week, so she liked having a little weekend liberty, too. On one such weekend, I put my twisted plan into action. The sweet pubescent schoolgirl had been unwittingly jerking my life around--it was time to turn the tables on her. I strategically placed a full laundry basket in the guest bathroom, under the towel rack. When Heidi arrived, she decided to take Brian out to the hot tub, so she went into the bathroom to change. After she had slipped her slender form into the spa (and after I had hungrily watched her do so from a second story window), I darted down to the bathroom. Sure enough, she had hung her clothes on the towel rack, including her little undies. I held them to my face. The aroma was fantastic, "eau de teen pussy", and I considered a quick masturbatory session right then and there, but that wasn't the plan right now. I dropped the panties and her shorts into the basket, but left her tank top on the rack. When she returned, she'd think they had just slipped off and into the basket. And that's all I did. A week later, however, when she arrived wearing a miniskirt, I was glad I had established that "rational explanation". Again, I put a nearly full laundry basket under the towel rack. This time, while she was out in the tub, I took her panties and hid them in my toolbox in ...