The Babysitter

The kiss was an explosion—a detonation of everything I'd been holding back for weeks. I crashed my mouth against Angelina's with a fury that surprised even me, my hands fisting in her hair as I claimed her. She gasped against my lips, and I swallowed the sound, plunging my tongue into the wet heat of her mouth. For a heartbeat, she was frozen, shocked by the suddenness of it. But then she melted, her own tongue meeting mine in a dance that was equal parts surrender and hunger.

When I finally pulled back, a thin string of saliva connecting our lips, her eyes were wide, her chest heaving beneath the crisp fabric of her blouse.

"Was that just—"

"Yes, Angelina." I ran my thumb across her lower lip, smearing the gloss I'd tasted. "I had a feeling you and Harry were up to something. And the truth is..." I leaned in, my breath hot against her ear. "I'm not that mad."

Her breath hitched as I pushed her back onto the bed, her legs splaying open in a silent invitation. I turned to my husband, who stood frozen by the dresser, his knuckles white where he gripped the edge. The look I gave him was pure sin.

"How long has it been?" I asked, my voice a velvet blade.

"This is the first time we've acted on it," he said, but his composure was cracking. I could see it in the way his chest rose and fell, the way his eyes kept darting to Angelina's spread thighs.

I smirked and crawled onto the bed, settling between her legs. "Then you don't mind if I have a little fun, right?"

I didn't wait for an answer. My hands found her breasts through the white cotton of her blouse, cupping the weight of them, feeling her nipples pebble against my palms. She shivered, a soft whimper escaping her lips, and I leaned down to trace the shell of her ear with my tongue.

"I bet you weren't expecting this," I murmured. "For both my husband and me to want you like this. But you like it, don't you?"

My hand slid down her stomach, past the waistband of her skirt, pressing against the damp heat between her legs. She cried out, her hips bucking into my touch, and I smiled against her skin.

"You're so cute. We're going to have a little fun, aren't we?"

I looked at Harry, and he was already moving, his belt clinking as he crossed the room. Together, we undressed her like a ritual—me pulling off her blouse while he unzipped her skirt, our hands meeting and tangling over her heated skin. When I finally unhooked her bra and let it fall, her breasts spilled free, dark nipples already peaked and aching.

"God," I breathed. "You're perfect."

I lowered my mouth to her breast, taking the nipple between my lips and suckling with a hunger that bordered on desperate. She arched into me, her fingers threading through my hair, holding me there as I flicked my tongue across the sensitive bud. Harry moved to her other side, his mouth joining mine, and together we worshipped her while she writhed beneath us.

Her moans filled the room—high and breathy, punctuated by little gasps that made me wetter than I'd ever been. I could feel the slickness pooling between my own thighs, and when I slid my hand down to press against her panties, I found her soaked through.

"You're so wet," I said, pulling back to look at her. "Is it because you want me already?"

I licked the shell of her ear, and she shuddered, a broken moan falling from her lips as I rubbed her through the damp fabric. Her hips rolled against my hand, chasing the friction, and I circled her clit with deliberate slowness, watching her come undone beneath me.

Behind me, I heard Harry's belt buckle hit the floor. His hands found my hips, gripping the curve of my ass through my dress, and I felt his breath on my neck.

"Ginny," he growled, and the sound sent a shiver down my spine.

I didn't stop. I hooked my fingers into Angelina's panties and pulled them down her legs, exposing her to the cool air. She was glistening, her folds swollen and pink, and the sight of her made my mouth water. Harry's fingers joined mine, sliding through her slickness, and she cried out as he pushed two fingers inside her.

"Please," she gasped. "Please, I need—"

I knew exactly what she needed.

I lowered myself between her thighs, inhaling her scent—musky and sweet, intoxicating. When I pressed my tongue to her clit, she screamed, her hands fisting in the sheets as I lapped at her like a woman starved. Harry moved behind me, his hands finding the hem of my dress and pulling it up, exposing my own wetness to his gaze.

He didn't wait. I felt his cock press against my entrance, thick and hard, and then he was inside me, filling me in one deep thrust. I moaned against Angelina's cunt, the vibration making her buck, and I doubled my efforts, plunging my tongue into her while Harry fucked me from behind.

The rhythm was primal—his thrusts driving me forward, my mouth pressing deeper into her, her cries growing louder and more desperate. I slipped two fingers inside her, curling them just right, and felt her walls begin to flutter around me.

"I'm—I'm going to—"

"Come for me," I commanded against her clit. "Come for us, Angelina."

She shattered with a scream that seemed to tear from her very soul, her body convulsing as I lapped up every drop of her release. The sensation of her climax triggered something in me, and I felt my own orgasm building, coiling tight in my belly as Harry drove into me again and again.

He hit my g-spot, and I broke, crying out against Angelina's thigh as my climax ripped through me. Harry followed a moment later, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep, his hot seed spilling inside me.

When it was over, we collapsed in a tangle of sweat-slicked limbs, our breaths ragged and mingling in the quiet room. Angelina lay between us, her eyes dazed, her lips parted.

"Did we really just—"

"Yes, honey." I traced a finger down her arm, watching the goosebumps rise in its wake. "And if you'd like, we can always give you more."

She blushed, a shy smile spreading across her face. "I'd like that."

"Good." I leaned in and kissed her, soft and slow, tasting myself and Harry on her lips. "I have plans for you next time."

After she left, the house felt different—charged, alive with the memory of what we'd done. Harry pulled me into his arms, his forehead resting against mine.

"That was real, right?"

"Yes, honey." I laughed, breathless and giddy. "It was."

"Good." He kissed me, deep and possessive. "Because I didn't want that to be a dream."

I pulled back, meeting his eyes with a wicked grin. "Don't worry, dear. Next time, we'll have even more fun."

I'd had a taste of something new tonight, something that had been buried so deep I'd almost forgotten it existed. But now it was awake, hungry, and I knew—this was only the beginning.