How Not To Babysit part 11
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How Not To Babysit - Part 12 free porn video
PART TWELVE: PRESENTED
"Jason, eh?" the delivery guy snickers.
My legs falter and I need to grab the banister. Oh fuck me! Jenny! You
little brat. Why do you just blurt out everything?
I walk to the entrance and take the pizza from him. I turn to put it on
the chair in the foyer. I feel his eyes on me. Checking out my legs and
watching my skirt flit around.
"So, are you one of those transsexuals?" he asks me.
"What!?" I blurt. "No! Never! God! Just go!"
I turn to face him. My skirt twirls some more. I want to grab the hem and
hold it down but I don't. I push him. He stumbles backwards a bit and I
follow him onto the porch.
"Stop looking at me like that and get out of here," I command him.
"Hey babe," he draws out the second word and chuckles. "You wouldn't
dress like that if you didn't want to be looked at."
I push him again and he backs off the porch and into the driveway, by his
car.
"Stop looking at me like that," I yell.
I hate it but his stares are driving me crazy. He's looking at me with
lust and I like it! Goddamn it! I see a bulge in his jeans. What? He's
into this too?
"You pervert!" I bark at him.
It occurs to me at this moment that I'm in my driveway, dressed as a
girl. It's still early. People are going about their business. Mr. Karlaw
is out mowing his lawn. Mrs. Smith is in her garden. Some kids are down
the street yelling something or other. I AM OUT IN THE OPEN! EVERYONE CAN
SEE ME!!!
I quickly turn and run to the house.
"Nice panties!" the guy calls after me. "Very cute."
In a blink I'm back in the house. I go to close the door but he speaks.
"You have to pay for that!" he calls out.
Dammit! I check the table. There's 20 bucks. I grab it and throw it on
the porch.
"Fuck off!" I yell and slam the door on him.
I sit on the floor, back to the door, cool tile against my pantied ass.
My heart's racing. I can't get away with anything. Everything is always
so humiliating.
"You sweared," Jenny points out the obvious, again.
"Yes," I say calmly, "I swore."
"That's bad. You should never swear," she continues. "Mom's going to be
mad."
"What?" I ask. "You're going to tell Mom I swore?"
"You hafta tell the truth too." She looks at me curiously. "Didn't they
tell you that?"
All right. Whatever. Mom knows I swear. She'll chew me out a bit but
that's all. I give up.
"You want some pizza?" I offer.
"Yeah!" she cheers and does a little spin.
I carry it to the kitchen and set us up each with a plate and a drink of
milk. She sits at her little table. I join her. We eat quietly. It's
tasty. My recent humiliation steals my focus. I think of his leers. My
legs. I rub my thighs together. I touch them lightly with my fingers. I
trace lightly on my hem. I think of his erection. I feel mine growing
again. I think of him seeing my outfit. Him seeing my panties. I
embarrassed. I'm aroused. I'm not sure what I'm feeling...
Suddenly I notice she's been talking to me for some time. Her pizza's
eaten except the crusts and her drink is empty. My food is untouched. My
milk is getting warm.
"So?" she asks.
"What?" I ask back.
"So do you want to play house with me?" she repeats.
"Ok, sure," I say, "until bedtime. One hour." It wasn't yet seven but I
want her to understand that there's a clock ticking.
"Ok, one hour! Yes!" she cheers.
She hops out of her chair and runs out of the room.
"I'm gonna be the daddy like we said before. I gotta wear a suit cause I
work in an office," she yells as she runs to the stairs.
"You can be the mommy 'cause you're a girl!" she hollers from the stairs.
All right! Whatever. I certainly have experience playing the girl now.
One more hour and I change and play some video games until Mom and Larry
come home. I clear the plates and follow her upstairs. I get to her room
to find she's tugging on the nightie but she can't get it over her head.
"Hold on," I say, "let me help."
I unclasp the now too-familiar garment and undo the buttons. She pulls it
over her head quickly.
"Yes!" she cries out as she tosses the nightie into the corner of the
room.
"I need nice pants and shirt with buttons," she ponders, "and a tie!
Yeah! A tie!"
We go to her dresser and pull out her black slacks and white golf shirt.
She's pleased with that. She digs through her shoes to find her black
boots.
"With the pants," she says, "they don't look like boots. They kinda look
like daddy shoes, right?"
I admit, they do... a bit. Certainly more than her mary-janes or her dress
sandals.
"Yes," I say matter-of-factly, "and they're more professional than your
runners."
"That's what I think too!" she agrees excitedly. "I need a tie."
"You can use my school tie," I offer. "I'll get it."
I dig through my closet to find a few white shirts but no tie. I think
for a moment. Where's my tie? Fucking Caleb still has it. Asshole!
Dammit. I'll have to find a tie for school on Monday. Wait a second!
Pants! My school pants. Caleb has my school pants. I've only got the one
pair. Shit! Fucking Caleb! I better remember to talk to Mom about this.
I leave my room and head to Mom's. Jenny's quickly in step behind me.
"Where's your tie?" she asks. "Why are we going to Mommy and Daddy's
room?"
"We're going to use one of Daddy's ties!" I tell her excitedly. "He's got
more of them."
She's ecstatic. The dressing is as important as the game.
"Ok, let's see" I open the closet and pull out the tie rack. "Which one
do you like?" I ask her.
She spends a considerable amount of time going through her options. There
are only five ties but each one seems to have merit to her. I spend the
time touching my skirt and my collar. My palm occasionally brushes
against my so-called bust.
Get it together man! You're watching Jenny. *Man*? You sure about that?
Get it together *girl*! That sound better? More accurate? Fuck. I smooth
out the skirt and let go of it.
Jenny's finally chosen a tie and has it wrapped around her neck like a
scarf. She looks up at me.
"Can you do it?" she asks.
"I don't know," I say, "but I can try. I never do my school tie."
I take the tie and flop it around my neck. After about 10 minutes, I have
some variation of a knot that will do the trick. I drop it over her head,
tuck it under her collar and tighten it up to her neck. It's a bit long
and the thin part is longer but she's happy.
"Ok... I'm going to the door so that I can come home from work," she says
as she runs the length of the hallway and single-steps her way down the
stairs.
I decide that I'm supposed to be in the kitchen. I go there and start
washing the plates we used for pizza. Once in position, I hear the front
door open, close and then open again.
"Honey, I'm home!" she belts out. "Where's my dinner?!"
She storms into the kitchen.
"I worked really hard all day and I want my dinner!"
"Is that what a daddy says?" I ask her.
"I saw it on TV," she says. "So gimme my dinner. I wanna big steak!"
I set up a fork and butter knife at the big table for her. She climbs the
chair and settles in. I deliver an empty plate.
"Voila!" I make a flourish. "Filet Mignon!"
"Fill A Me Nyah?" she repeats and attacks the invisible delight. "Thank
you, honey!"
"I sold a million ice cream cones today!" she says between mouthfuls of
air. "I made lots of money!"
"That's great!" I answer and applaud. "We're rich!"
Ice cream sales? Well, I guess you could support a family working a Ben
and Jerry's... Ice cream?
"You want some ice cream to celebrate?" I ask her.
She cheers and I dig into the freezer to find the promised delight. Soon
enough we're sitting on the couch with mint-chip cone each. The game is
over. Soon the ice cream is gone and I turn to her.
"Time for bed, Jenny," I tell her.
"I'm not tired!" she says and crosses her arms.
"C'mon Jenny," I reason with her. "You've had pizza and ice-cream."
She looks at me and softens.
"We played house. You were the daddy?" I prompted her. "And you were a
great daddy!" I add.
"Really?" she says. "I like being the daddy."
Without her realizing it I have her walking towards the stairs with me,
hand in hand. She's going on about the joys of growing up, making money,
and begin responsible. I just usher her along. Soon we're in her room.
"Ok, it's time to be a girl again," I tell her.
"Are you going to wear the nightie tonight too?" she asks.
"No," I tell her and pause.
I just want to end this right here. I'm not fighting with her and I'm
definitely not going to go along to appease her.
"Mommy said that I'm not allowed," I say. "She says that it's your
nightie and only you get to wear it."
"But I hate it," she spits at me. "Don't make me wear it."
I empathize, little girl. Oh how I empathize!
"Ok, let's start by getting you undressed. OK?" I offer.
"I really don't like it," she restates as I pull down off her boots and
pants.
"Let's jut get your diaper on," I say softly.
"I don't like the diaper too," she says.
"We have to do what Mommy says," I tell her.
"Fine!" she says.
Really? Even at four, females already use "Fine" to voice displeasure?
Wow.
In a moment I have her in her diaper and her white plastic pants. I'll
save her from the fuchsia rumba panties at least. I get the nightie for
her but she looks up at me, pleading.
"Come on," I urge her, "and do what your mother says."
Eventually, I get her into the nightie, tuck her into bed, and wish her a
good night.
I cross the hall to Mom's room to finally get this make-up off. Her
ensuite has an endless array of cosmetics. I have no idea which one does
what. Luckily a large tub of cream is labeled "make-up remover". In a
moment, all the make-up is gone. My eyes aren't emphasized. My lips are
no longer kissable. My shiner is back but softened. In the mirror is me...
in drag. And I want to put it all back on. I step back from the counter
and turn to the door. Again, my skirt twirls and I watch it in the
mirror. I spin a couple more times and enjoy the skirt's movement. My
hands find my hem again and brush my thighs. I probe inwards and tease
the skin under my skirt. I rub the front of the panties. I'm really hard
again. Why am I so horny in these clothes?! I hop into the hall and
scramble to my room.
I go to take off the vest when I spot the laundry basket mom left for me
this morning. The rumba panties are still on top of everything. I pick
them up and brush my fingers over the ruffles. Something twitches deep
inside. I rub my fingers inside the crotch of the panties to feel the
plastic. I bring it to my nose and sniff it. I drop it like it's on fire.
What's wrong with me? Stop being a pervert!
I step back from the basket and notice something else. There's a gift bag
in the room. It wasn't here this morning. It's pink and white and powder
blue and I'm concerned. Is this the surprise my mom mentioned? Why is it
so girlie? I tentatively lift the bag and pull out the tissue paper. I
glimpse in and catch a trace of lace. My legs wobble and fail to support
me. I stumble back to the bed and collapse. My head thumps the wall
behind me. I reach into the bag and feel the soft material of whatever is
in there and a card. I cover my eyes and pull out the item. I'm
terrified. Mom! What are you doing? You're giving me something like this
as a gift? Oh my god. I'm so horny right now! My panties are straining to
hold me. I want to tear the gift apart. I want to throw it away. I don't
want to look at it. I want to wear it. I don't know what I want. Suddenly
I'm rubbing it against my face.
I open my eyes. I'm holding a white and pink polka-dot baby-doll nightie.
The hem and bust is lacy. I sniff it and rub my face into it some more.
Then I drop it in horror.
END OF PART TWELVE
Kierra
- 21.08.2022
- 13
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