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From brandon@tamron.comSat Sep 30 23:46:21 1995
Date: Fri, 29 SEP 1995 20:11:42 GMT 
From: jack <brandon@tamron.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Sitting for Kelly 1/2 - incest/minors 


                          Sitting for Kelli
                                 by
                            Hank Freeman

CH 1 - DOING FAVORS

At first I thought `what have a gotten myself into?'  I had agreed to babysit
for the neighbors whenever they were going out, since I was home alone in the
evenings anyway.  I had made the mistake of telling Pete and Judith, who lived
in the adjacent townhouse, that my wife worked nights and that I spent most
evenings watching cable and playing games on the computer.  Their eyes had
fairly lit up when I said that, and they had immediately asked if I could
babysit their two kids from time to time, so they could get out of the house.
Ugh.  How could I refuse? I'd just told them I did nothing in the evenings, so
I could not very well make up an excuse now.

Their boy Jeff was twelve and Kelli, his older sister, was fourteen. Were they
sure these kids even needed a babysiter?  Kelli certainly looked old enough to
take care of Jeff, if he even needed any looking after.  Judith was adamant,
though - kids should not be left alone.  What if someone broke in?  What if
there was a fire?  Fine, fine, I had said, though I had to wonder if someone
*did* break in if I would stick around to be of any use.

I arrived at 6:00, just after they had finished dinner.  Their place was
pretty messy, especially compared to our spotless home (my wife is a neatness
fanatic), but I guessed that was due to the presence of the kids.  I expected
a night of real horror after seeing the disarray around me; `these kids must
be monsters,' I thought.

Pete greeted me with a smile.  "Say, Hank!  We really appreciate this, pal.
We're finally going to get out on our own for the first time in, god, how long
honey?"

Judith emerged from the kitchen, wearing an evening dress with a plunging
neckline.  She was a nice looking lady for someone 15 years my senior.
"Forever," she said, and smiled at me strangely.

"Yeah, forever.  Anyway, we're going to Les Miserables and then a late supper.
Midnight too late for you?"

"No, not at all," I said, wincing internally.  "My wife gets home about then,
so I'll just call her and tell her I may be over here when she gets home."

As I was talking I began to hear some decidedly loud thumps coming from
upstairs.  Pete noticed me glancing at the ceiling.  "Kids!," he yelled up at
the stucco, "knock it off and get down here."  I heard giggles and more
rumbling, then footsteps running down the stairs.

Little Jeff emerged first.  He was awfully short for his age, and wiry. He
really looked like a much younger kid than he was.  But then, Pete looked like
a kid too, and he was over 40.  Genetics.

Right on Jeff's heels, and tugging on his hair, was Kelli.  If jeff had looked
half his true age, Kelli looked almost twice hers.  I remembered when that
film director, Polanski, got in trouble for messing around with a minor and he
claimed that he'd thought she was in her twenties.  I had taken an `oh, sure'
attitude about that, but now I knew what he meant.

Kelli was a lovely girl.  She had an hourglass figure, long smooth legs, large
breasts for a 14-year-old, and a face that reminded one incredibly of
Elizabeth Taylor in `National Velvet.'  Or maybe Natalie Wood in some of her
younger roles.  Her soft brown hair fell in lovely, loose, natural curves all
around her neck.  And she was very tall for 14 - almost as tall as my wife.
If I did not know better, I would have bet she was 19 or 20.  She was dressed
in a knee-length T-shirt with a picture of a teenage mutant ninje turtle on
it, and that combined with the roughouse play she was engaging in with her
brother were the only indications that this was a kid.

Pete made the kids stand still and he introduced them to me.  I had seen Jeff
playing around the complex, but had never met him or even seen Kelli.

"Hi," he said, looking away.

"Hi," Kelli said, looking me right in the eye.  Her expression had a kind of
boldness to it, but she still looked terribly innocent.

I held that gaze for an uncomfortable moment, then looked up to see that Pete
and Judith had already started heading for the door.  "You kids be good - mind
Mr.  Freeman," Judith said, not looking.  Pete followed her out the door
without a word.  They told me nothing about who to call if there was a
problem, or any of the stuff I'd thought one would tell a sitter.  Pretty
neglectfull parents, I thought.

The kids showed it.  For the first hour things were rocky.  These two just
would not calm down.  They wrestled, tumbled, and ran over most of the house,
and I felt weird telling them to `settle down' and things like that.  It made
me feel like my father, and hence rather old.  I began to see why the place
was such a mess.  I decided to retire to the TV room and hoped the kids would
get tired soon.

I was watching some nudie flick on the Playboy channel, and things got
reasonably quiet for a while.  Then all of a sudden I head a loud *bang*
followed by crying.

I ran into the kitchen and saw Jeff lying next to the undersink cabinet. I
felt my heart jump when I saw the blood running down his face.  Kelli was
standing next to him, looking too innocent and doing nothing to help him.

"Damn!" I said, and hurried to check him out.  As it turned out, the cut was
very small and looked far worse than it actually was.  I glared at Kelli as I
was calming Jeff and cleaning the cut with a paper towel.

"I didn't do anything," she said, indignantly.

"Sh-sh-she pushed me down!" Jeff said, sobbing.

"Nuh-uh!  Did not!"  Her voice was high and frantic.  She'd done it, of course.

The kids did that `did not, did too, did not' thing for about a minute until I
bellowed for them to shut up.  Jeff looked good as new once I got the blood
out of his hair.  I could not even find the cut anymore. They went running off
to do more damage and I cleaned the spatters off the kitchen floor, swearing
to myself.

Before I could even get back to the TV room I heard another thump, and more
crying.  This time it was Kelli who was the victim.  Jeff had obviously
tripped her as she was running up the wide carpeted stairs.  She was laying in
a heap on the tile at the foot of the stairs, crying and holding her knee.

`Dr. Hank, call to surgery,' I thought.  I sent Jeff to his room, rather
angrily, and knelt to examine Kelli's knee.  Jeff ran up the stairs sulkily.

I could not help but notice that her long T-shirt had ridden up to her waist,
and as I checked out her left knee, my eyes kept wandering to her white cotton
panties.  Her sobs were subsiding as I ran my hands over her knee - there was
no damage that I could see.  But I prolonged the moment, my mind reeling madly
as I noticed the tiny curls of pubic hair that were peeking around the
legbands of her underwear.  All of a sudden I was being turned on by this girl
- my dick was hardening, my heart was beating faster, I felt my breath coming
shallow and quick.  I could barely see the folds of her labia, or imagined I
could, through that thin white material.  My attentions to her knee had caused
her legs to spread slightly, and I found myself pushing the knee farther,
pretending to look for damage, watching feverishly out the corner of my eye as
the edge of her pussy began to barely peak out from the elastic. I began to
slide my hand down a bit from her knee, feeling the taut youthfullness of her
thigh.

"Ow!" she said, and I looked up.  I had spread her legs far enough that she'd
felt it.  Her face was red with a blush.

"Um, your knee looks OK,"  I said.

"Thanks," she whispered, then bolted up the stairs.  Had she seen me looking
at her pussy?  I was not sure, but something seemed to have made her react.

Confused and turned on, I returned to the TV room.  The Playboy channel was
still on, showing some playmate who was golfing in the nude.  I switched off
the idiotic thing and sat in an easy chair, my mind filled with what had
happened.

I was no child molester; that I knew for sure.  Kelli's young body had turned
me on, but that was natural, wasn't it?  And all I had done was look - how
could I help myself?  The girl was a knockout, though she clearly did not know
it.  I mean, to have ignored that pretty little cunt when it was staring me in
the face would have been inhuman.

Wouldn't it?

My dick would not soften.  I tried to think of mundane things like work and
gardening, but no matter how hard I tried, my thoughts ran back to Kelli's
thighs, Kelli's pussy, Kelli's little hands wrapped around my cock shaft, the
sheer madness of sinking my prick, centemeter by centemeter into that tight
little quim.  Oh god, this was insanity - how could I get ths girl out of my
head?

I turned the Playboy channel back on - they were showing a softened version of
some porno film.  I took out my cock and began to beat off feverishly.  I
turned the sound down so I'd be sure to hear if the kids came downstairs.  I
shot off in about a dozen strokes, pouring my sperm into a paper napkin that
was sitting on the endtable.


CH 2 - KELLI'S COSTUME

In the days that followed I found myself becoming increasingly obsessed with
Kelli, thinking almost constantly about that moment at the foot of the stairs.
Sometimes I could almost convince myself that I had reached down and stroked
her pussy though her panties with my fingertips.  Other times I imagined
ripping through that thin cotton material and sinking my tongue into her tight
hole.  All of it was buttshit, all of it drove me crazy.

I was almost too quick to agree with Pete and Judith when they asked me to sit
with the kids again.  They did not seem to notice my strange eagerness - but
that was not too suprising.  When it came to their kids they seemed to notice
damned little.

It was the weekend before halloween, and the kids were fussing about their
costumes.  Pete and Judith had left abruptly, again leaving me with no
instructions, and I was trying to help the kids, especially Kelli, to finish
up their costumes.

Jeff was going to be a cowboy.  Easily done, all you need is jeans and a plaid
shirt, a cowboy hat, a six shooter in a holster, and maybe some chaps.  Jeff
had all these things but wanted to be a marshall, so I made him a star out of
tinfoil.  Kelli waited patiently for my help with her costume, which was to be
a female vampire.  Once the star was finished, Jeff ran off upstairs to look
at himself in the mirror and play in his new costume.

"I want to be a vampira," Kelli said, holding out a black swath of material.
The swath was actually an extremely slinky, tight nylon dress that she'd
borrowed from her mother.  She also said she had a set of false fangs she'd
bought at the novelty store, and a black wig an aunt had given her for a witch
costume the previous year.

"Well," I said, "if this is your mom's dress I doubt it will fit you. She's a
lot bigger than you."  I glanced at Kelli's chest.  "Taller, I mean..."

"I also need a cape, and I don't know where I'm going to get that."  She
looked dejected.

"Well, let's take one thing at a time.  Have you tried the dress on?"

She shook her head.

"OK, well let's see how it fits."

I expected her to then go off somewhere and put the dress on, then return so I
could see the fit.  Naturally, in that part of my mind that was still
remembering her little wispy hairs peeking out the edge of her panties, I
wanted her to change right there in front of me.  What I got was something in
between.  She went behind a sort of japanese screen they had near the
fireplace, and took off her jumper.  But the glass door of the fireplace was a
pretty good mirror, and I had a darkened, but reasonble view of her as she
slipped the dress on.  I did not see much, since she wore a bra and panties,
but I was struck by how slim her waist was.  I thought I might be able to get
my hands around it completely, thumbs touching in front, middle fingers in
back.  I felt myself getting hard again, especially when I noticed how
strained her bra was.  Her mom had not noticed how much Kelli had grown and
bought her a larger size.  Her appearance in that tight bra was extremely
sexy, since it emphasized the fact that she was just then blossoming into
womanhood.

She came out from behind the curtain.  The dress, which was obviously intended
to be mid-calf length, piled up on the floor, and the waist was somewhere
between her hips and her knees.  Not the proper effect, but sexy as hell since
the neckline, already intended to plunge, was almost to her navel.  We tried
and tried to adjust the dress, and during this time I had several chances to
run my hand over her tummy and the small of her back.  The feel of her was
fantastic - so smooth and firm.  I suggested that we might be able to bring
the dress up by shortening the shoulder straps, and while standing behind her
I demonstrated by pulling the dress up by the straps.  I watched that silky
black material slide over her tits and ass, and my boner became a real
problem.  I sat down quickly while Kelli held the straps up and knotted them.

"This should work, though the knots will look funny."  She noticed my
distress.  "Are you OK Mr. Freeman?"

"Yeah, sure.  Just a leg cramp."  I doubled over to massage my leg, and also
effectively hid my hardon.

"What do we do about the cape?" she asked.

"Well, I think I have a black bedsheet that will work, though you'll have to
give it back."  I was still rubbing my leg, and watching her curves through
that dress.  I was hoping she'd leave to play, like Jeff, so I could take care
of my problem.

"You have black sheets?"  she asked, amazed.

"Sure.  Other colors too.  So?"

"I thought they were always white."  She shrugged.  "Well, thanks.  That
pretty much does it I guess."  Without another word she walked out the door
and I heard her ascend the stairs.

I did not wait a second.  I whipped out my painfully hard erection and flicked
on the Playboy channel with the remote.  They were showing, oddly enough, a
woman dressed as a vampire, but with nothing underneath the cape.  As she
spread her cape wide, she undulated her hips and heaved her breasts as she
hissed.  Pretty sexy stuff.  I began to stroke my cock slowly, trying to enjoy
the sensation and imagine Kelli was the vampire, beckoning be to fucked by
curling her black tipped fingers.

I had not turned the sound down.  So I did not hear when she came back into
the room.

Suddenly I heard a gasp behind me.  Without thinking I whirled around, and
there was Kelli.  She had retrieved her false fangs and had put them in her
mouth.  She'd also put on the black wig.  Obviously she wanted to show me the
costume - and now she was standing stock still, staring at the hard cock in my
hand.

I should have tried to hide myself, or cram my dick back into my pants, but I
was too stunned to do anything for several seconds.  Kelli had started to say
"I vant to suck your blooood", in a Beli Lugosi-type voice, and had said
simply "I want to suck your..." before I had turned around and had stopped her
in her tracks.  Now the irony and sexiness of that partial statement caught
me, and I was just stuck there, standing like an idiot with my dick in my hand.

"God," she said, finally.  Her voice brought me back to reality.  I hurriedly
turned around and painfully jammed my shrinking dick back into my pants.  I
muttered some kind of apology, but by the time I turned back around she was
gone.  I heard her running up the stairs.  The wig and the fangs were on the
floor.


CH 3 - EDUCATING KELLI

What to do?  My mind was totally divided between two terribly conflicting
ideas.  One half of me was still incredibly aroused by the memory of Kelli
standing there staring at my penis and telling me she wanted to suck me, even
though I knew that it was an accident of fate that put those words into her
mouth.  My other half was terrified of what might happen if she reported the
indicent to her parents.  At best they'd get pissed and maybe tell my wife.
At worst I could end up talking to the police.  I decided I'd better talk to
her about the whole thing and make sure she undertood that I did not mean her
to see me like that.

I cautiously went upstairs.  I checked in on Jeff first and found that he'd
fallen asleep in his cowboy outfit, lying on top of the covers.  I covered him
as best I could with the bedspread, which was balled up on the floor and
looked as though it had been there for some time, then turned off his light
and closed the door to his room.  Kelli's room was on the other side of the
bathroom, a bit down the hall.

As I walked the short distance to her door I went through all the things I
might say, in my mind.  Nothing seemed to sound right, though, and I decided
to play it by ear.  I had no idea how experienced she was or what she knew
about men and sex.  14 is a nebulous age; some girls have even had sex by
then.  Others have barely thought about it.

Kelli's room was dimly lit from a desk lamp in one corner.  Like the rest of
the house, her room was a disheveled mess, though she had left no clothing on
the floor as her brother had.  Mostly there were stuffed animals and magazines
everywhere.  Kelli was sitting in a window seat and staring outside when I
came into her room.  When she turned to look at me her face was a mixture of
confusion and defense.

I crossed the room and sat on her bed - I did not consider that to be
lascivious at the time, it was simply the farthest spot from her and I did not
want to be threatening.  Looking back, I suppose the symbolism was pretty
strong.  She went back to staring out the window and I realized that I was
going to have to speak first.

"Kelli," I began, "I'm really sorry about what just happened.  I did not mean
for you to see me like that."

She said nothing for a moment, and I was about to try and phrase it another
way when she said: "I know.  I'm always doing that."

Doing what?  Making grown men jack off?  "Always doing what?"

"Always interrupting private stuff.  Like with my mom and dad."  She looked
terribly glum.

"You walked in on them in bed?"

"They weren't in bed - they were in front of the fireplace and I just wanted
to get my Tiger Beat that I'd left on the TV set and I walked in and saw
them.... doing it.  Sort of."

"Oh."  Sort of?  How can you do it `sort of'?

"Anyway, my dad got really mad and told me I was a peeking tom and mom got
even madder and wouldn't talk to me."  Her face dropped from glum to
positively sad and I felt truly sorry for her, though her reference to
`peeking tom' was cute enough to make me smile a little.

"Well, you couldn't help it.  You didn't know."

"Another time," she continued, almost ignoring me, "was with Jenny, our old
babysitter.  I came downstairs late because I forgot to take my vitamin B for
flea bites and I saw her with this boy...  on the stairs. I had never seen the
boy before, but they were doing stuff and they got really mad too.  They made
me promise not to tell or they'd tell my parents I was touching myself or
something.  I was scared already.  I wouldn't have told."

She looked at me, a sort of pleading in her eyes.  "I'm not trying to see
anything.  It just keeps happening to me.  Don't be mad, OK?"  There was a
tear running down her left cheek.

Amazement turned to relief.  She was more concerned with what I might say to
her parents - she had not even considered saying anything herself.  I stepped
over to her and put an arm around her shoulder. "I'm not mad, Kelli.  Not at
all.  It was not anyone's fault; just a mistake.  I'm sorry I made you sad and
made you think about those other times.  Why don't we just forget about it?"

She smiled.  "Thanks Mr. Freeman."

"Call me Hank."

She blushed a little, then all of a sudden gave me a very womanly look.
"Thanks, Hank."

"No problem.  Good night."

I started to leave, and had gotten to the door when she asked me: "Can I ask
you a sort of personal question, Hank?"

I turned.  She was still sitting at the window seat, but had turned to face
the room.  The straps on the dress and slipped back, and the neckline hung low
on her.  I could see the lacy trim of her bra above the scoop, and could see
the tops of her breasts rising out of the one-size-too-small cups.  I sat on
the floor near the door and brought my knees up, looking casual but hiding my
rekindled erection.

"Shoot," I said, trying to sound totally at ease.

"Well, um.  I was wondering...  Well, if you don't want to tell me it's OK,
but..."

"Ask away, Kelli.   You've seen everything I have to hide already."

She laughed embarassedly into her hand.  "Um, well.  I have seen a guy's...
thing... three times.  And, well, I just wondered how come when you wear pants
it doesn't, like, show.  Like a tent.  You know...  poke out, like..."

She thought men were in a perpertual state of erection since she'd only seen
dicks when they were hard.  Sorry to have to break the bad news to you kid...

"Well," I said, "a man is not always hard.  Most of the time it just sort
of... hangs there."

She giggled.  "Oh.  Really?  Well, then...  but...  uh...  I don't know.  I
mean, how does it...  um...."  She obvioulsy wanted to know what made men
hard, but was too shy to ask.

I held up my hand.  "It's like this.  When a guy gets aroused - sexually
excited, like when your babysitter and her boyfreind were fooling around on
the stairs - then the guy gets hard, like you saw."

"It... _get's_ hard?"

"Sure.  Just sort of swells up and gets really stiff.  Don't they teach you
this stuff in health class?"

She shook her head.  "Your parents have to sign a thing, and my mom wouldn't.
Well, I think maybe she lost it.  So, does it hurt when it's like that?"

This was strange - this beautiful little girl was asking me intimate details
about my cock.  If it were an older girl I was having such a converstaion
with, I would have assumed we were in for some action; I had to remind myself
that this one was only a kid.  "No.  Not really.  It's very sensitive, though.
Like when your leg goes to sleep and is just waking up, you feel everything
like little tingles?"

"Yeah, that's a weird feeling," she nodded her head.

"Well, that's sort of the feeling, but nicer."

There was a very heavy silence for a moment, as she turned away, then back to
face me, then away again.  Finally, she said "so my dad got excited because my
mom had his thing in her mouth."  Ah, so that was doing it `sort of.'  "And
that boy was excited from putting his thing up against Jenny's poochy..."

"Poochy?"

"You know.  Down there."

"Oh.  You mean pussy."

"Oh?  OK, well...  pussy." She blushed a deep red.  My rising boner jumped a
bit at hearing her say that word.  "Anyway, so um, so why did you?  Get
excited I mean.  Was it that TV show with the naked vampire lady?"

This was a key moment.  I did not want to lie to her, but I did not want to
scare her either.  I had avoided a major possible disaster, and it was not a
good time to plunge back in.  "No.  And I don't think we should talk about
this anymore, Kelli." I got up and turned to the door.

She rose, panic in her voice.  "Did I say something bad?  I'm sorry.  I was
just curious.  Don't be mad..."

Over my shoulder, against my better judgement, I said "It was you, Kelli.  I
saw you changing clothes in the glass fireplace door.  That's what made me
hard.  I'm not mad."  I closed the door and walked downstairs.




