Babysitter Callbacks

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This is mostly fun, concluding the hiring process, but not entirely. Also, I didn’t say who was hired . . . maybe I’ll do a couple alternative endings, when it gets to that point.


The only good thing about the presentation I had to attend that evening (besides the fact that I could sit there looking attentive and daydream about popping Michele’s cherry . . . and fucking Megan’s brains out . . . and—well—and so on) was that I had finally been able to get Carolina to babysit. About the event itself, the less said, the better. I was there as a favor to my agent, who also didn’t want to be there. I believe he was trying to appease his in-laws, and as they were fans of my books, bringing me along helped the appeasement effort. I hope it worked.

I got home to find the light on in the front hall and a note on the hall table. It read,

Daddy, I got you a surprise. I think you’ll really like it. Come up to my room when you get home and I’ll show you.

Your loving baby girl

I stood there staring at it for several moments, unsure what to make of it; but what else could I do? I went upstairs. The door to the guest suite was ajar, letting out light and soft female noises. I pushed it open.

Carolina was on all fours on the bed 69ing with another young woman. She was facing the door, so all I could see of her partner was a pair of legs. Probably Isabella, I thought. The color is right. My guess was almost immediately confirmed when Carolina said, “I wanted to thank you for making me feel so good, Daddy, but I didn’t have time to buy you anything, so I decided to give you Bella. Do you like your present, Daddy? I got her all wet and ready for you. And she got me all wet and ready for you, too.”

“Baby girl,” I growled, “I want to see your face buried in that pussy.”

“Yes, Daddy!” Carolina responded eagerly. I heard muffled sounds from beneath her as she dove into Isabella’s snatch like a starving woman. I stripped, went around the bed, got up on my knees behind her, and grabbed her hips. Without ceremony, I slammed my rod hilt-deep in her flowing cunt. She gasped loudly, but kept eating. I leaned forward and grabbed her tits, gripping them firmly to anchor myself. I pounded her tight body like a runaway piledriver, holding nothing back. Her muffled moans got louder and louder and louder, but she kept her head down. I could hear Isabella’s indistinct noises growing louder as well around her mouthful of Carolina’s sweets.

“Such a dirty little girl,” I grunted, “giving her Daddy another girl to fuck as a present. Such a filthy little slut . . .” I pinched Carolina’s nipples hard and twisted. Her hips bucked and she screamed into Isabella’s quim as a violent orgasm slammed through her. Isabella’s neck arched, uncovering her mouth, and she came hard with a banshee wail. I fucked Carolina straight through her climax, then pulled out and growled, “Change places.” The lust-addled expressions on their faces as they hastily complied made me feel every inch the sex god Megan had called me.

Once the two girls were fully engaged with each other, I plunged my dick balls-deep into Isabella’s steamy box and railed her good and hard, using her tits for handles as I had with Carolina. I could see Isabella’s hand buried in Carolina’s cunt, and it seemed to be twitching. “You two are crazy fucking sexy—you’re a hot little pair of tight, wet pussies. You’re gonna make me cum soon.”

“On our tits!” I heard Carolina gasp. “Cum on our titties!”

“Cum for me first,” I growled. “I want to feel each of your cunts go crazy before I cum.”

I could tell Carolina did something with her head at that; I never found out what it was, but a moment later Isabella detonated on my prick, and her reaction set off Carolina. I stopped moving and held myself deep inside Isabella, wanting to keep myself from cumming but not willing to give up the sensation of her honeypot pulsing and spasming around my dick.

When I pulled out, I growled, “Get ready.” To my surprise, they flipped themselves around so they were lying on their backs looking up at me. They opened their mouths and held their boobs up toward me. With a couple strokes, I came, aiming back and forth to paint their faces and tits with my cum.

I laid down on my back, head on my pillow, to catch my breath; in a twinkling, I had a stunning young girl lying on each side of me, each resting her head on my shoulder. One hand was playing with my half-erect prick, while another was caressing my balls. “You know, mister,” Carolina said in her adorably raspy voice, “we were talking about you, and feeling sorry for the hard time you’re gonna have picking just one girl to hire. And then it occurred to us: you really don’t have to hire just one.”

“We talked about it,” Isabella purred, “and we don’t really want to be competitors—we’d much rather work together. Then you’d have even more help taking care of Hope and Joy . . . and two girls taking care of your cock.”

“We’ve shared boys ataşehir escort bayan before,” Carolina picked up, “and there’s more of you to go around than there ever was of any of them, so I’m sure you could keep us both very, very happy.”

“Obviously only one of us could officially move in, at first,” Isabella conceded, “but we’re sure we could make that work for a while.”

“Just think about it, mister,” Carolina rasped. “I know your cock is, and it likes the idea—see how big it’s gotten! I think it’s ready for more pussy . . .” She looked across me at her partner in crime. “Flip to see who gets his dick first?”

Isabella gave her a considering look back, then said, “Tell you what—you get first dick if I get his cum. Deal?”

I could hardly believe I was hearing this. I have two insanely hot 19-year-olds bargaining over my cock. I’m not objecting, but life is strange.

“Deal,” Carolina replied after a moment. “I really like it, but you love it, and I don’t want to wait.” She wasn’t kidding—she immediately scrambled up, then threw herself astride my hips and impaled herself to the root on my spike; I felt my knob socket into her anterior fornix. She arched her spine and put her hands on my chest, throwing back her head and thrusting out her pert little titties. “Ohhhhh, fuuuuuuck, Daddy,” she groaned, “your big daddy dick feels so good in my coochie . . . it’s so deep . . . you hit the Daddy spot in my tight little coochie . . .”

Not to be left behind, Isabella straddled my face. I expected her to do it facing Carolina, but maybe I was lying too close to the head of the bed; whatever the reason, she had her hands on the headboard to brace herself, and I had a lovely view of the undersides of her tits framing her beautiful face. She lowered her twat to my mouth, and I gave her a long, exploratory lick. She moaned and slid forward, allowing me to probe her little honeypot with my tongue. “Ohhhhhh,” she groaned, “oh oh oh oh ohhhhhh . . . Papi, Papi, Papi, me encanta tú lengua, me encanta tú lengua . . . cógeme con tú lengua . . . me haces tan caliente . . . me haces tan mojada . . .”

“Yeah, Daddy, fuck Bella’s little cunny with your big tongue,” Carolina moaned, rolling her hips and grinding herself against me. “Get her all wet and messy like a dirty little girl . . . stretch my tight coochie with your big fat daddy cock . . . make your baby girls feel good, Daddy . . . two baby girls need their Daddy to make their coochies feel good . . .” She started gyrating her hips and swinging them from side to side.

I reached up and grabbed one of each tit. I squeezed Carolina’s firm little peach, then pinched its fat pink tip, pulled, and twisted. She mewled and fucked me faster. I pinched Isabella’s turgid nipple between two knuckles as I kneaded and worked her boob. “Ay, Papi, sí, sí, sí,” she moaned, “agarra mis tetas grandes—se siente tan bien—dame más, Papi—más duro—dame más—lame mi chocha— cógeme con tú lengua—” She pressed herself down on my tongue, then abruptly changed her mind and rolled her hips. “¡Mi clítoris, Papi, chupa mi clítoris!” she demanded.

I was happy to give Isabella what she wanted, sucking her pearl hard between my lips. I kept playing with her tits, fondling and massaging first one, then the other. “Ahhh, sí, Papi, sí, sí, sí,” she cried out, “chupa mi clítoris—tú me vuelves loca—tú me vuelves loca cuando chupas mi clítoris—tú comes mi chocha tan bien . . . me encanta cuando comes mi chocha . . . me encanta cuando chupas mi clítoris—tú me vuelves loca . . .”

I pinched and rolled Carolina’s nipples as well, pulling and twisting each one in turn. “Oooh, Daddy,” she cooed, “you like my pretty little titties, don’t you? They like it when you play rough with them—I can feel it in my coochie . . .” She started rising and falling on my pole, moving in all three dimensions at once. “Ohhhh, Daddy,” she groaned, “your baby girl needs to cum . . . your big fat daddy cock feels so good, your little fucktoy needs to cum—I’m close—so close—cum so fucking hard . . .”

If Carolina was that close, I wanted to get Isabella off as well. I sucked harder on her pearl, like I was trying to suck it right out of her oyster, and started humming the bass riff to “Midnight Hour.” She began shaking and cried out, “Ay, Papi, tú me vuelves loca—tú lengua me vuelve loco—voy a venir—voy a venir—Papi—” There was a sudden, harsh intake of breath, and Isabella shrieked, “¡Coño!”

I don’t know if that’s what sent Carolina over the edge, but a moment later she cried out, “Fuck me, Daddy!” and then screamed as her cunt went into cataclysms around my prick. She writhed above me, impaled on me to the root, in the grip of a titanic orgasm. I could feel her girl-cum frothing between our bodies while Isabella’s ran down my face and neck.

When they traded places, Carolina watched as Isabella climbed onto my prick. “Ahhh, Papi,” Isabella breathed, “me encanta tú chorizo. Soy tuyo, Papi—mi chocha es tuyo . . .” Unlike escort kadıöy Carolina, Isabella took me slowly, wriggling and twisting and reversing her motion a couple times before finally coming to rest on my hips. “Ay, Papi, se siente increíble,” she groaned. “Estás tan duro y grandón . . . eres enorme.” She started flexing and rolling her hips, grinding her clit against me and fucking my dick by rotation. “Tú chorizo gordo se siente increíble en mi chocha . . . me encanta tú chorizo gordo . . .”

Carolina shook herself out of her trance and straddled my face backward. “Eat my coochie, Daddy,” she said girlishly. “Eat my pretty little pink coochie. You got it all wet, you need to lick it all up.” As she rubbed her slippery quim up and down my face, she found the tip of my nose with her wet pink hole. She giggled and pressed herself down, stretching her opening around the tip of my nose (which is just a normal nose—I’m no Cyrano), then leaned forward.

“Ahh, sí, sí, sí,” Isabella groaned, “beso mis tetas . . . chupa mis tetas grandes . . . Se siente tan bien—se siente tan bien . . .”

I stuck my tongue out and found that I could reach Carolina’s pearl; when I started swirling my tongue around it, she let out a muffled squeal. I grabbed her pert little titties, kneading them and pinching their stiff pink points between my fingers, and felt her squirm.

Isabella picked up speed on my dick, bouncing and gyrating and rolling her hips, constantly changing the fucking angle to change the sensations in her hot, wet cunt. “¡Cógeme, Papi!” she cried out. “Tú me vuelves loca—tú chorizo es increíble—tú chorizo cogiendo mi chocha me vuelve loco—eres enorme . . . estás tan duro y grandón . . . Dame tú chorizo, Papi—dame más—hazme vengo—hazme vengo con tú chorizo gordo—ahh—ahh—ahh—ahh—”

I grabbed Carolina’s hips and pulled her clit to my mouth. I sucked on it like I was trying to suck a watermelon through a straw and hummed John McVie’s bass riff to “The Chain.” She exploded on top of me; I shifted her again so I could drink her nectar as she came. A moment later, Isabella burst out, “¡Voy a venir, Papi! ¡Voy a venir!” She came with a high, wild cry, her climax thundering through her like a herd of buffalo.

When the gush of Carolina’s girl-cum subsided, I put my hands under her ass and lifted her up. “Get off me, baby girl,” I growled. She swung herself off to the side. Isabella was still communing with her cunt, as I had hoped. I pulled her down on top of me and rolled us over, my steel-hard rod making it easy to stay inside her. I raised myself up and put her legs over my shoulders; I grabbed a tit with each hand and cut loose, pounding her with my cock like a demented piledriver. Before Isabella had even come fully to her senses, she was eyes closed and moaning again. I looked over at Carolina. “Ride her face,” I commanded. She obeyed quickly.

Carolina was facing me, so I pulled one hand free, hooked her head, and pulled her in for a fiery kiss. I let the hand slide down from her head to her tit and captured its turgid peak with a firm pinch. She moaned into my mouth and reached down with both hands. One went to Isabella’s tits, seizing the one I had abandoned; the other found Isabella’s pearl. Carolina and I devoured each other’s lips as our tongues twined around each other. I jackhammered Isabella’s hot, wet pussy, making the bed shake and complain, and fondled two very different but equally sexy tits. Carolina masturbated her friend as her friend ate her out—quite enthusiastically, from the sounds of it.

When we broke off the kiss to breathe, Carolina pouted, “Bella’s gonna get more daddy dick than me. That’s not fair.”

“She’s my present,” I growled. “You gave her to me. That means she gets special treatment.”

“Oh, I guess,” Carolina sighed.

“Plus, I’ll need you to stay after she goes home—I need to talk to you—and if you’re a good girl, maybe Daddy will give you a reward,” I said in a low, rough voice.

“Mmmmmm . . . so nice . . .” she purred.

Suddenly, without warning, Isabella came violently on my cock. She screamed something unintelligible into Carolina’s twat; that set Carolina off with a shriek of her own. I had been holding on to myself, trying to pace myself, so I just kept fucking Isabella. Carolina trembled and shook and finally slid sideways off Isabella’s face and fell over with a wail. I felt my balls start to boil just as Isabella’s climax eased. Her eyes fluttered open; I looked down at her and rumbled, “Are you ready for my cum, sexy girl?”

“¡Ay, Papi, sí, sí, sí, sí, sí!” she gasped. “Nadie me lo das como tú. ¡Dame tú leche, Papi! ¡Dame toda tú leche!”

“Take it—” I snapped. I buried my cock to the balls in her hot body and erupted, filling her with my cream.

“¡Ay, Papi!” Isabella cried out. “¡Dame tú leche! ¡Me encanta! ¡Me encanta!”


Isabella had to leave pretty quickly after that; she looked a little jealous of Carolina, who was still lounging maltepe escort naked in bed. I threw on a robe to walk Isabella to the door, then returned to the bedroom. I lay back down and gathered Carolina in my arms. She snuggled in close and asked, “So what did you need to talk to me about, Mr. Andrews?”

“A couple things,” I replied quietly. “One, the folks I had supplementing the background checks said they could identify the job you were fired from, but they couldn’t really find anything out. The couple weren’t talking, obviously—they’re still together, by the way, which I thought was interesting—but no one else seemed to know what happened. I was wondering what more you could tell me about that.”

“I’m not surprised none of the neighbors knew anything,” Carolina responded in a soft voice. “Paul and I were very discreet—it was the stereotypical bad luck that we got caught—and Lana wasn’t close to anyone in their neighborhood. I wasn’t the only one who thought she was a frigid, stuck-up bitch—I heard a couple of the neighbors use that exact phrase. One of them went on to say that she bet Lana was just as frigid in bed, that she wasn’t sure how they’d ever had Emily, and that she couldn’t understand why Paul wasn’t having an affair. He actually was by then, with me, as it happened. She said—she was divorced, because her husband had cheated on her, no less—that she thought Paul deserved to have a lover, and if she got a chance at him she’d take it in a heartbeat.”

“Wow,” I said.

“I know, right?” Carolina replied. “But the thing is, Lana didn’t have anyone to talk to about what happened, and she was a very proud woman—she wouldn’t have wanted the neighbors to know. I know she’d heard some of the same sort of comments I had; if the story had gotten out, everyone would have sided with Paul and me and felt that she’d gotten what was coming to her, and she had to have known it.”

“That’s . . . quite something,” I commented.

“Their marriage was pretty sad,” Carolina said. “But Paul still wanted to be married to her—even once he was fucking my brains out four or five times a week and loving every second of it—and he talked sometimes about what she had been like when they were dating. We had a few conversations about what would happen if she caught us, and I encouraged him to tell her the hard truths if that ever happened: tell her flat out that he wasn’t going to stand for being treated that way anymore, she hadn’t deserved any better from him, and she could either change or get out. Take charge and assert himself. I had kind of a hunch that she needed that and would respond well to it—and would be turned on by it, honestly. If they’re still married, I’m guessing I was right.”


“So in all seriousness, Mr. Andrews, I understand why Lana fired me, but I didn’t and don’t believe I did anything wrong,” Carolina told me. “I wasn’t trying to get him to divorce her; I wasn’t trying to work myself out of a job, either, I definitely would have kept fucking him as long as I possibly could, but I was trying to build him up. They weren’t going anywhere healthy the way they were going, and nothing was going to change that unless Paul flipped the script on Lana; and with the state of their relationship when I finally got him into bed, I didn’t believe she had any right to expect or demand his faithfulness. She was as guilty as if she’d been sleeping around herself—and I don’t actually know that she wasn’t.”

“So you’re saying—” I began, but Carolina broke in.

“If I were married to you, or anyone, I would be absolutely faithful, and I wouldn’t give up on that unless our marriage hit the point that it was basically rubble,” she asserted. “More to the point, if you hire me to care for Hope and Joy, I will be absolutely faithful to you as long as I’m in that position. I’m a one-man woman, and I do not believe in destroying relationships. There are too few strong, healthy relationships around as it is without going around damaging them.”

“You know, Carolina, I think this speaks somewhat to the second question I had,” I told her. “I had to wonder if you were the sort of person who craves risk—someone who would get restless and go looking for trouble; the way I put it to myself was, if you got one daddy for yourself, could you settle down and be happy with that? And it sounds like you could. I was concerned that you might be some sort of relational stim junkie.”

“I absolutely could—I wouldn’t go chasing danger,” Carolina answered soberly. “I really like feeling naughty, but even more, I don’t ever want to get anyone else hurt. I’ve seen too much of that in my family.”

“That feeds into the other question I had for you,” I commented. “I’m not sure exactly how to ask this, but—I know your family experience gives you an affinity for the situation my girls have ahead of them, and that’s good, but it also means you have a lot of baggage in this area. I’ve learned the hard way that it’s easy for my own stuff to get mixed up in things when I try to help someone else, which means it becomes about me and my needs instead of about them and theirs. Is this something you’ve thought about, or worked on in your own life? I would need to know that this wouldn’t be a major issue for you if I hired you.”

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