Date: Sun, 11 Aug 2002 13:45:45 EDT
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Babysitting Robbie
BABYSITTING ROBBIE
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
The phone rang at my side as I was watching television, and Alina
promptly shouted from the kitchen, "Don't touch it, it'll be for me." And
she came running in, because she knew darned well I was going to answer it
anyway.
"So get your own phone." I said, picking up the phone receiver.
"Hello?"
"Hello, is Alina there?"
"May I tell her who's calling?" I said as Alina ran up and began
clawing for the phone.
"It's Mrs. Treymeyer, dear."
"It's Mrs. Treymeyer." I said as I gave her the phone.
"Oh." Alina suddenly lost interest, but took the call. "Hello,
Mrs. Treymeyer." She turned her back on me while I stared at her shoulder
blades jutting out like another set of breasts, considering her intently.
I was screwing up my courage to ask my sister for money. Sis always
has money, she works as a babysitter for some of the richest people in
town. I couldn't wait until I was sixteen, and old enough to get some kind
of job myself. Oh, you hear about going door to door with a lawnmower, but
really, you don't make enough money doing that to make it worth while. I'd
tried it through the summer and ended up with a grand total of two hundred
and fifty dollars, barely enough to pay back my parents for the lawn mower
they'd bought for me. The mower was sitting in the garage for next
summer...yeah, right! Like I was going to be that stupid again!
But that didn't get me a pair of Adidas like I wanted, $79.95 at the
sports shop. With an allowance of only $10.00 a week, it would take me
months to save it up. Or I could borrow it from Alina, and get the shoes
now. Then pay her back, plus 25% per month interest. Oh, she'd give me a
payment plan that would turn that $80.00 I wanted into $120.00 for her,
paid $5.00 a week for a year. But it would get me the shoes now, and I
could try to find the money to pay her back some other way....
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Treymeyer, but I'm busy tonight." Alina said. "No,
tomorrow night, too."
"No, you're not!" I said to her, loud enough to let Mrs. Treymeyer
hear.
Alina made a face at me. "No, my friends are all busy, too. I don't
know anyone who could babysit for you tonight." Pause. "No, not even for
ten dollars an hour."
"I'll do it!" I hollered.
"Shut up!" Alina said. But I had spoken loud enough for Mrs. Treymeyer
to hear that. "Who? Oh, just my little brother...He's fourteen, I guess."
"Fifteen." I said.
"But really, Mrs. Treymeyer, he doesn't know anything about
babysitting."
"So what's to know?" I said. "Let me talk to her."
Alina took at me, and a decided grin split her thin face. "All right,
Mrs. Treymeyer, here he is."
"Hello, Mrs. Treymeyer, I'm Cal, Alina's sister...I mean brother. You
need a babysitter tonight? You'll pay ten dollars an hour?"
"Wipe the drool off your chin, Cal." Alina advised.
"I certainly do." Mrs. Treymeyer said. "And if you're Alina's brother,
I know that my little Robin is going to just adore you. He'll love to have
an older boy stay with him for the evening."
"How old is Robin?" I asked.
"He's just six years old."
No diapers, then. "Cool." I said. "I can bring some games over or
something."
"Oh, he has all the games." Mrs. Treymeyer said. "Now, we need you
here at seven thirty, can you make it all right?" It was six o'clock.
"I'll be there." I said. "How late will you need me?"
"We'll be out until ten and my husband will give you a ride home."
Mrs. Treymeyer said.
"Great." I said. "I'll see you then. I'll get the address from Alina."
"Ta-tah!" she said.
"Good-bye, Mrs. Treymeyer." I hung up, pleased with myself. Two and a
half hours would be twenty-five dollars. And maybe she would like me enough
to ask for me again. Babysitting is one of the few jobs someone my age can
get...other than mowing yards or shoveling snow.
Alina burst out laughing. "Serves you right." she got out, strangled.
"What?"
"You and little Robbie Treymeyer." she said. And she laughed again,
this time it was more like a howl.
"Come on, give. What's wrong with this? I can babysit a six-year-old
boy better'n you can."
"Want to bet?" she asked me. "I'll give you two-to-one odds."
"On what?"
"That you can't keep Robbie from breaking, cutting, tearing, smashing
or otherwise destroying something in the Treymeyer's house while you're
taking care of him."
"He's clumsy?"
"He's a little monster." she clarified. "Hates to see his precious
Mommy go anywhere. She spoils him rotten and his father can't do anything
with him, and they don't spank him or even scold him. But anything he
breaks, they'll mention to you every visit to them for the rest of your
life. That house is full of Chinese dishes and plates and vases and the
walls are covered with Persian tapestries, he'll get at least one of those
before the night is out. Watch out you don't offer to pay for it, they'll
take you up on it."
My mind was elsewhere. "So you'll put up fifty dollars to the
twenty-five I make tonight that I can't keep him from breaking something
Chinese or Persian tonight?"
She nodded. "He does it every time. Got two of their vases last time I
took care of him. She mentioned those to me just now. Over a thousand
dollars worth of porcelain turned into dust."
A total of seventy-five bucks if I won, and I needed eighty.... "So
make it fifty-five to my twenty-five, and it's a deal." I stuck out my
hand.
She hesitated, puzzled (why the odd number?) then stuck out her
hand. "It'll learn you a lesson." she said. "Stick to cutting the grass,
Cal, it's easier work."
"You mean raking leaves now." I pointed out. "Tried that. I'd rather
keep an eye on a six-year-old."
I was on the Treymeyer doorstep at seven-fifteen. A big house of red
brick, what they call Colonial except it's far too big for any of the old
American colonists to have ever lived in unless they were filthy
rich. Mrs. Treymeyer answered the door herself (I learned later that they
couldn't keep domestic help, thanks to Little Robbie) and said, "You must
be Cal. You have your sister's eyes." She was overly plump, her hair done
up ridiculously high on her head, too much rouge on her cheeks and lipstick
a glaring red color, she looked more like a caricature of an aristocratic
lady than the real thing.
I squelched a grimace. "Good evening, Mrs. Treymeyer."
"Come on in, dear. Watch the vases by the door. Not as nice as the
ones I had there before your sister babysat for Little Robbie. He broke
both of them, over five hundred dollars each." Sis was right about that.
"I'll keep an eye on him." I promised. "We'll have a good time, I'll
play games with him."
"Now he's supposed to be in bed by nine o'clock." she led me through
the house. I saw what Alina meant, this place wasn't a showcase, it was
downright cluttered.
And an active six-year-old boy stood in the middle of it all,
blond-haired and dressed in a sleeping jumper covered with dump trucks and
cranes, designed for someone half his age, and he was screaming like he was
two. The tears stopped when he saw me. "Who are you?" he asked me, his eyes
shining bright blue, his face round and kind of cuddly looking if you like
that sort of stuff.
"I'm Cal." I said. "Your parents asked me to look after you tonight."
I got that from my sister once when she picked up a kid for babysitting at
our house once. "You want to play with me?"
That face forgot it had tears in its eyes. "Uh-huh. Can we make
popcorn and watch a movie?"
I looked at his mother.
"Certainly, baby." she cooed to Robin. "We have a popcorn popper, just
fill it up and plug it in. But don't salt it too much, salt isn't good for
my baby. David! Darling, time to go!"
A man in a conservative business suit came down the stairs. "Good
evening, Mr. Treymeyer." I said without being introduced. On the slender
side, his face drooping at the jowls, his eyes like a lost puppy...He
looked beaten. One of those men whose wife runs his life, and he just sort
of goes along helplessly. Between his overachieving wife (take a look at
all those diamonds she had strewn around her neck and in her earlobes and
on five different rings on her fingers) and the infamous brat of a son, he
had little joy in his life.
Those Persian tapestries were his, I'd bet, they didn't match the
china at all, aggressive battle scenes and those stiff-looking fights with
men on horses impaling people on foot with calm faces on both sides and no
blood showing.
I took a chance on that. "You collect these tapestries, sir?"
His face lit up. "Yes, a marvel, the workmanship goes into these. Take
this one, it took over five hundred man-hours from someone putting in each
stitch one at a time and so many colors."
"They patched it nicely." Mrs. Treymeyer said soothingly to him. "It
hardly shows."
"Yes, Robbie tried to swing from it and tore it all the way across, up
here." Mr. Treymeyer pointed; I couldn't see anything wrong with it
there. "You'll be careful he doesn't try that with this one again? It's far
too valuable to be handled roughly, it's nearly seven hundred years old."
"I'll watch him. We'll be careful." I said.
"Well, we must go." Mrs. Treymeyer said. "Toodle-oo!"
"Good-bye." I said as she sailed out the door. Mr. Treymeyer stopped,
looked back at me as if he was going to say something, then turned and left
without a word.
I turned. "So, Robbie, let's go make some popcorn."
"You do it!" he shouted as he ran for the next room. It was a family
room, I could tell it was where he lived. "I'll find us a movie!" he said.
Oog! Either I rode herd on him hard or I let him have fun. "All
right!" I shouted back. "But you stay in there where I can see you, okay?"
So far we were pals, I didn't think he'd break anything just yet.
"Have to get the movie! It's in Daddy's room!" He was way down the
hall. I thought about following him, but had decided to treat this as if
Robbie was a total angel. At least he wasn't screaming and knocking down
stuff. I hoped.
The popcorn popper was on the counter with popcorn in a clear jar
beside it. Nothing fancy about it, we had one at home, so I loaded it up
and plugged it in and went looking for Robbie.
He was putting the tape in the VCR and turned at me and smiled. "This
one is a special one of Daddy's. You'll like it a lot."
"Okay." I said.
He jumped up onto the couch beside me, cuddled up under my arm, right
next to me, and said, "Let's watch it now."
The remote was on the side-table beside me. "Okay." I said and picked
it up, pointed it at the TV with a blue screen and no sound on it, and hit
Play.
There was a small pause and whir as the VCR started up and
then... Ka-wham!
"OOH! OOH! OH! OH!" It was an extreme close-up of some woman giving a
guy head, all you could see was her face from the cheeks forward, ugly red
lip around her mouth which had smeared, and the guy's cock, shining and
purplish. It looked like it was about a foot long, and that woman was
taking all of it with every move of her head.
"Yow!" I said, fumbling at the control. I found the sound control and
thumbed it down fast as I could, until the ghastly-loud male moans were a
whisper and said, "Your Daddy had this tape?"
"Uh-huh!" Robbie smiled up at me. "You like it?" Those eyes twinkled
in mischief I remembered so well. I must have had those eyes when I trotted
my dad's sex magazines (just Playboy and a few Penthouse) out to show my
friends when I was little older than he was.
"Yeah, I like it." I said.
"Me, too." he said.
So Robbie, the little terror, and I sat quietly on the couch and
watched the girl giving a guy head. It flashed back and forth between his
face (square with curled brown hair) and her giving him a blow-job, then
they switched to a low-angle shot where you could see his face up at the
top and her sucking him, just seeing mostly the bottom of her chin. His
face was blissed out, and who could blame him, that girl was really giving
his long love muscle a working over.
Then they switched to a long shot, both figures in full size, and the
woman stood up and turned around and bent over.
"Back it up." Robbie said.
"Huh, sport?"
"Back it up again." Robbie said. "Let's watch her do that again."
"Well...okay." I said. I hit the Rewind, and the characters went into
triple-speed movements.
We reached the woman in close-up and Robbie said. "Keep going, all the
way back to where she starts in."
"Okay." I said. I let the tape keep going, a shot of her not-too-far
from her face, that lasted a long time, then her jerking his pud some,
getting it hard (soft, actually, reverse) then rubbing his briefs, then her
tugging his zipper back up and doing back up his trouser button. Then her
hand rubbing at his crotch.
"Stop it." Robbie said.
I did and the action began again, the girl getting onto her knees and
fondling his crotch.
"Yeah." Robbie said. "Watch her, watch how she does it."
"I'm watching." I said and reached down and tugged at my crotch, my
cock was getting hard.
"She's rubbing his peter through his pants." Robbie observed.
"She sure is." I agreed.
"Then she'll unzip him and play with his peter, and then she'll stick
it in her mouth." Robbie described.
"Yeah." I was watching those manicured, pink-tipped hands rubbing at
the jeans. God, what that must feel like....
"What does it feel like to suck someone's peter?" Robbie asked.
"Huh?"
"What does it feel like to suck someone's peter?"
"Uh...I don't know." I admitted.
"Does the man like it?"
"Yeah." I could answer that one. "He likes it a lot."
"I thought so." Robbie said. "I watch this and my peter gets so
funny-feeling. I rub it like that woman is doing and it just tickles and
tickles a lot."
"Yeah." I said.
"I rub it like this." Robbie said and put his hand on my crotch. Right
onto my cock which was dead-center of my jeans after I'd shifted it. His
little hand began to rub my dick, round and round, pressing down hard.
I guess I should have stopped him. But it's funny how you don't think
of such things at that time, you just know it feels good and so you just
sort of sit there and let it all happen.
"You like this, Cal?" Robbie asked.
"Uh-huh." I said.
"My friend Tony likes it when I do it with him." Robbie said. He's in
my class at school, and we sit by each other and I do this to him."
The girl on the TV was unbuttoning the guy, then tugging the zipper
down. She obviously didn't know how to do it worth a damn, she fought it
for a while.
And Robbie's hand reached for my zipper and caught hold of it. He had
a similar problem, zippers aren't meant to be unzipped when you're sitting
down in them. He reached up for my button but I beat him to it. I undid my
top button and said, "Now try it."
"Yeah." Robbie said and by tugging at my fly, he got it to unzip
itself. My briefs were now a white triangular bulge at the junction of my
legs.
Robbie's hands got hold of my cock again and this time the briefs made
it feel like nothing was in the way.
"Tell me when she pulls down his briefs." Robbie said to me. "I want
to do what she does."
"Okay." I sighed. I was beyond refusing anything right now, when
someone has your dick in his hand, you don't argue with them, you don't
even want to argue with them.
Robbie's fingers were like velvet coated knobs on my cock, rubbing it
through my briefs.
"She's pulling down his briefs now." I said. Robbie promptly did the
same. His hold on the waistband slipped and it popped the base of my cock,
not too hard, and even that felt good! Robbie caught the briefs again and
pulled them down and tucked them under my balls. The woman in the movie did
that; Robbie must have this movie memorized.
Then the woman grabbed the man's cock and began to pump it back and
forth and Robbie had hold of my cock, too. "You like that?" He asked me.
His fingers were like lines of joy across my cock, everywhere it was
touched, my cock registered pleasure. "Yeah." I said. "But she's pumping
his dick back and forth."
"Like this?" Robbie began to pump my prick. I didn't have the length
of that guy on the TV, I still had some growing to do, maybe six inches and
only a scattering of hair down there still. But my cock stood up just as
stiff and proud as the man's on the TV, harder than I had ever felt it even
when I jerked it off.
"Your peter's warm." Robbie said in wonder. "And it's soft outside and
all hard inside."
"Yeah." I agreed. "Pump it some more." I said. "Just like that. Oh,
yeah!" I groaned.
"Let me hear you moan like the guy is doing." Robbie chided me.
"Oh, oh, ah, ah, ah!" I obliged him. "Oh, oh, she's taking it in her
mouth!" Would Robbie do that? When I was his age, I thought a dick was
nasty and would taste awful.
But Robbie had the woman's inspiration to go with instead of whispered
innuendoes from classmates, he bent down and I felt those satin-smooth lips
on my dick. "Oh, GOD!" I groaned out. "God, Robbie, that's so good, so
good!"
"Yeah, baby, eat it." the man on the TV said.
"Yeah, baby, eat it for me." I chimed in.
I know now that Robbie should have gotten his lips wetter, he kept his
mouth pretty dry. But you know, I didn't notice that then and don't know if
I'd notice it now, for his lips were working on my cock and he didn't use a
bit of his teeth on it. How he knew to do that I don't know, but he was
sucking my dick so damned well. My first blow job and I got it from a
precocious six-year-old boy. What did it feel like?
My cock was alive, totally alive, sending out streams of joy like I'd
never felt before. I can only compare it to the way your prick kind of
tingles just before you hit orgasm, everything is all sort of larger than
life down there, or maybe you just feel everything, every slight movement
and every nerve ending is in overdrive. I had Robbie's lips, moist but not
wet, slipping up and down and my foreskin was long enough that there was no
discomfort in that, he was holding onto it and it was wrapping up around my
glans and then being pulled back down, and every wave and ebb of my
foreskin over my cockhead was a separate tidal wave of pleasure throbbing
in my cock.
Then my fingertips and toes starting tingling. I said it to
Robbie. "Oh, oh, my toes are tingling now, my toes. My fingers, too, oh,
oh!"
"Mm-hkh!" He gave a short blast of muffled chuckle around my cock, and
began to bob on me harder and deeper. He choked a time or two and then he
really gagged.
"Hey, take it easy." I advised him. "You're doing okay without shoving
it all the way in."
"But I want to." Robbie insisted.
"Well...Okay, but do it slow, then." I said.
He did, a slow, long slide down my shaft, and my cockhead tapped the
top of his mouth, then deeper onto a softer place, warmer and wetter, and
then Robbie's throat surrounded my cockhead and then he paused, and then he
shoved it on in, and I felt my cockhead engulfed in hot moisture, thick and
heavy, and then Robbie's mouth was at the bottom of my cockshaft.
"Yeah, Robbie you did it!" I said in delight that bordered on
applause. "That's the way you do it, kid!"
"Mm, h-mm!" He chuckled again. I guess he had figured out how not to
choke on my cock, because he didn't after that, he went back to nursing it
and damned if this young brat didn't give me a deep-throat blow-job, just
like the guy on the screen was getting.
My cock was going crazy, completely alert and vibrating like an
electric toothbrush, I was groaning and wanting to move somehow, anyhow,
but that would have knocked Robbie in some way, so I was just quivering
where I was and Robbie sucked me and sucked me.
"Oh, oh, I'm going to come!" I warned Robbie. "I'm going to shoot
come!" I clarified, my mind fuzzily trying to cogitate. Did Robbie
understand what come was, even? I didn't know, but he wasn't letting go and
I couldn't hold back! "Here it comes now!" I gasped out. "Oh, uh, UH,
GUH-UH-HN-GHHHH!" I spurted my feeble little adolescent load of jizz into
Robbie's mouth and I'm not so sure he noticed at first. Then he stopped
sucking, holding my head in his mouth and he was now actually sucking at my
dick, trying to drink my come right out of me, and the suction was almost
painful, my glans was on fire, it was pleasure mixed with excruciating
torment all at once and I couldn't separate them, and that was how I
finished my climax, while Robbie sucked me like a milk shake's straw or
something.
When he was done, it was painful, just painful, and I grunted, "Uf,
ooh, oh, ow!" and I caught Robbie's head and pried him loose, he wanted to
keep on sucking, not that I blamed him, the woman on the screen was still
sucking away heartily. We were about at the scene where Robbie had put in
the tape.
I hit the stop button and said, panting. "Oh, Robbie, that was good!"
"Did you like it?" Robbie said, his little face beaming proudly.
"Yeah, you were really good." I said. He giggled and came up for a
hug, which I was glad to give him.
"You're supposed to shoot it on my chest." Robbie said when he let go
at last.
"On your face?"
"That's what the guy does in the movie." Robbie said. "Isn't that what
you're supposed to do?"
"I think it's optional." I assured him.
"Okay." Robbie said. "It tasted funny. Salty, like popcorn."
"Popcorn? The popper!" I said. Now I could smell the burning odor from
the kitchen. "Be right back, sport." I said and ran, tugging at my pants as
I did.
The popcorn was burned black, I got it dumped out and had to was the
popper part of the machine, but I dried it all out with a towel and then
made a real batch of popcorn. I brought the bowl in with me, while Robbie
sat watching them, entranced. The guy and girl were still humping away at
it, the scene was just legs and you could see the dick between the guy's
legs, plunging into her pussy.
"Can we do that?" Robbie asked me.
"I don't think you're set up for that." I said. "Have some popcorn and
let's watch the movie."
"Yeah." Robbie said.
We ate the popcorn with the bowl in my lap and Robbie cuddled up next
to me. It finished and started to rewind.
"Can I suck you again?" Robbie asked.
"I don't know." I hedged. "I was pretty tender."
"I want you to shoot it on me." Robbie said. "Can we try?"
I looked at the clock. Nine thirty. "Okay, but we'll have to hurry.
Your mom and dad will be home soon."
I hit Play on the VCR and the movie started from the beginning and I
hit Fast Forward while Robbie undid my pants. He didn't need any help at
all this time.
The girl was sucking the guy and Robbie was sucking my dick, which
wasn't sore after all, but I was a long way from coming when I heard a
sound behind me, sort of a gasp.
I turned and looked right into Robbie's dad's eyes. "Uh,
Mr. Treymeyer!" I said when I could talk.
He was watching us, his eyes astonished, but his mouth never moved,
just a thin line. Then he turned and walked out again. Now I heard the
front door open.
"We're in trouble." Robbie predicted.
"Yeah, I guess so." I said as I stood up and fastened my pants. "Let's
go face the music like a man."
Mr. Treymeyer was in the front room, their trophy room, regarding the
tapestries. Mrs. Treymeyer was placing some sort of fur stole in the coat
closet. "Well, Cal, how did it go?" she asked me.
I looked at Mr. Treymeyer, his back to me and ventured. "It was
fine. We were watching television and lost track of the time."
"But nothing is broken?" she asked me, looking around.
"No, nothing."
"What's that smell?"
"Burnt popcorn." I guessed. "We forgot it was popping, we were so
busy. I washed everything up, though."
"No vases broken, no tapestries torn." Mrs. Treymeyer looked around.
"No, everything's fine. Just some burnt popcorn."
"Mr. Treymeyer will take you home." she said. "David, dear, give him a
little extra for doing such a wonderful job. Cal, I hope we can call you
again to sit for Robbie."
"I'd like that." I said. "A lot. He's a great kid. No trouble at all."
"My, my." Mrs. Treymeyer said. "All this time and all the broken
china, and all we needed to do was hire a boy to babysit him. Robbie, time
for bed."
"No." Robbie said willfully.
"Get up to bed, kiddo." I said to him. "Time for sleep."
"Okay. Bye-bye!" Robbie went up the steps.
"I'll take you home." Mr. Treymeyer said. Still stock-still, I knew he
was waiting to get me alone to chew me out. Or whatever you do when you
come home and your son is sucking the babysitter's cock; I didn't know what
that was, exactly.
We got in the car and Mr. Treymeyer drove most of the eight blocks in
silence. Near my house, he said, "Robbie always breaks things when we leave
him with sitters."
"I know." I said. Why didn't he just say it and get it over with? Or
was he waiting to tell my parents, I realized with horror!
We pulled up to the car and I got out and he said, "You're the first
sitter where Robbie hasn't broken something. At least a glass or two."
"We...we were busy all night."
"I know." He said. "And I have to think about that." He handed me some
bills and I stuffed them in my pocket.
"Are you going to tell my folks what we were doing?" I asked him.
"I have to think about it." he said and drove off.
Great, this was going to hang over my head. I got inside and Alina was
on the phone. "Nothing was broken?" she was asking in astonishment. She
looked at me. "He just walked in. Here he is." She handed me the phone, her
face dumbfounded.
"Hello, Cal, darling."
"Yes, Mrs. Treymeyer?"
"Sorry to call you again so soon, but I listened to our voice mail
when you left. I have a tea party tomorrow afternoon to attend. Could you
come by after school and sit Cal until his father gets home? Four o'clock
until six o'clock. Ten dollars an hour."
"Tomorrow afternoon? Sure, I'll be there." I said, smiling at Alina.
"I'm so glad we found you, dear. I'm going to be able to attend so
many more social functions now that Robbie has found a sitter he likes."
"Robbie's a great kid." I said to her and to Alina. "We had lots of
fun." With Mrs. Treymeyer willfully on my side, I wasn't worried about her
husband any longer. He was too much of a wimp. "In fact, I can't wait to
sit him again. Just call me anytime you want to."
"I'll do that, dear. Ta-tah!"
"Ta-tah!" I hung up the phone and held out my hand to Alina. "Pay me."
I could feel those Adidas on my feet right now!
THE END
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