Adventures In Babysitting

[Ersatz13]

**Need a female writer to portray an older bi-curious professional business woman and single mother - PM me first please!**

I'm running so behind. I'm speeding across town. It's my first multi-day residency assignment for the babysitting service I work for, and I'm already late. Great.

I didn't even have much time to pack for the 3 nights I'm supposed to stay at this woman's house to be guardian to her kids. They said back at the agency that this would be an easy first residency assignment for me. This particular family is a longtime client, and the kids aren't really "babies" but they're minors nonetheless, and require an adult guardian to stay with them while their mom runs off to some business convention. At least that's what the assignment dossier says. Two boys; one 16, the other 12. Boys are easy.

I swoop up their driveway. It's a decently sized house in a decently affluent neighborhood. My crummy ten-year old Ford Escort might stand out parked in front. I guess they'll all just have to deal with the Melissamobile for a few days. I look at the stereo. It's 5:19. Fuck. I think she was supposed to leaving town. She probably has to catch a flight. She's going to be pissed. Okay, let's do this! I grab my backpack and run up to the front door. I'm fast on my feet wearing my pink Chuck Taylors and tall striped gym socks. With my backpack slung over my shoulder, my denim jeans and black tank, I look like I'm late for class. I catch my breath standing on the doormat. Toss my hair and straighten out before ringing the doorbell. "You can do this, Mel," I tell myself, hoping that the woman on the other side of the door won't rip her a new one. "Turn on the smiles, Mel."

 

[Ersatz13]

:::insomnia Bump:::

:d

 

[kimberlee]

Name: Kimberly Jameson
Age: 36
Hair: Dark brown
Eyes: Deep blue
Height: 5'8" (170 cm)
Measurements: 36-28-34

I checked my watch for the umpteenth time and thought about calling the agency again to double check that the sitter they were supposed to send had, in fact, been sent.

I decided against it and knew that requesting a replacement wasn't going to help matters out any. Instead, I chose to take out my phone and explain matters with the office. I had just about finished my story when I heard the crunch of gravel under tires as a car came to a stop outside.

"Never mind. My babysitter just arrived. I'll be at the airport ASAP," I promised before shutting down my cell phone.

I opened the door as the young woman approached my door. Then, handing over an envelope for emergency cash absently mentioned that my phone number had been written upon it and requested that she put any and all receits into that self-same envelope. At the last minute, as I was entering my car, I told her that Kris and Mark had been refused access to the Wii for the next few days.

My mind was already on its way to New York City for the business that would be taking place. I smiled and waved as I belted myself in, turned on the ignition, and set my vehicle into motion. I only hoped I wasn't too late.

 

[Ersatz13]

Name: Melissa Ersatz
Age: 19
Hair: light brown, straight and long
Eyes: hazel
Height: 5'5"
Measurements: 34-26-34

::Going to change the narrative perspective from first-person to third-person limited-omniscient from this point forward::

"Never mind. My babysitter just arrived. I'll be at the airport ASAP," the tall, furious woman barked into her cell phone as she opened the front door.

"Hi, Mrs. Jameson?" Melissa squeaked to the tall furious woman who answered the door.

The tall woman quickly returned, "Yes, come in!"

"I'm SO sorry Mrs. Jameson, I'm so sorry I'm-" Melissa was interrupted, "Late?!" The tall woman was indeed furious.

Melissa began to shrink in Mrs. Jameson's presence and palpably hot anger. Melissa was already intimidated by this beautiful Amazonian woman who was fuming and about to run over her to get out the door. She was dressed very sharply for her business trip to New York.

Melissa put on her best game face, "Mrs. Jameson, please, you should leave now, I've got everything I need in the packet from the agency." Melissa projected a big sweet smile directly to Mrs. Jameson.

"That's right!" Mrs. Jameson replied as she grabbed her overnight bag and purse. She was still none too pleased with this little tart for what is going to be a close call, if not to take a later flight out, which will make her miss out on the evening's party. The professional mother of two stormed her way out the door, but not before remembering to hand her client envelope to the 19 year old gal who was going to squat in her home for the next couple of nights, "watching" her boys. What a joke, her boys don't need to be watched, but, god forbid her ex-husband finds out she left the boys alone for a 3-day weekend, when they could have gone and stayed with him. She'd rather have some teenage stranger crash her house and do the judicious thing by having a legal adult watch her underaged boys than allow her bastard ex-husband enjoy some happiness if she could help it. Besides, she playfully thought, maybe Brandon will get lucky with this girl. He's almost 17 after all, and this gal is quite clearly not that much older. She thought the notion cute and took more notice of the potential heart-breaker as she handed her the envelope packet. Mrs. Jameson thought Miss Melissa was your typical teenage girl, bouncy, perky, and a look into her own past. She smiled at the young guardian and jumped in her car, shouting that the boys were not allowed access to the Wii.

Speeding off, Mrs. Jameson raced to the airport to see if she might actually catch her scheduled flight, or, plan B: get the late flight out... if there's an available seat, of course.

Melissa dropped her backpack on the tile floor of the comfy home. She surveyed the accomodations and assessed the entertainment situation. Giant flatscreen: check. Satellite DVR: check. Stereo system: check. Giant white leather couch: check. Onto the kitchen, Melissa scouted the refrigerator. No beer. Maybe there's a liquor stash somewhere. If she wasn't able to invite people over or leave, she was going to make damn well sure she was going to entertain herself. Melissa emerged from the kitchen and ran into the boys she was now responsible for who had just come down the stairs.

"Hey are you the sitter?" asked the older one of the two.

"Yeah, you're Kris, right? And you're Mark," she motioned to the boys respectively.

"Yeah, so we're going to our friends house so we will let you do whatever if you let us do whatever," the younger 12 year-old Mark proposed.

"Uh, well okay then," Melissa replied, "like right now?"

"Yeah," the 16 year-old replied, "I'm going to drive Mark over to his friends, and then I'm going over to my friend Jake's house, " Kris hands a slip of paper to his sitter, "here's the numbers to our friends houses with their parents names."

"Oh okay, cool - wait, you have your own car?" Melissa asked. In the client dossier, it was clearly stated that the minors did not have a means of transportation.

"I do now, " the confident Kris replied, "my dad gave it to me," as he held up a set of car keys. "I got it when I got my license..." the kid trailed off. "My dad wanted me to rub it my mom's face basically, to make her jealous or something. I told him I wasn't going to do that, but I took the car anyway." Melissa smiles at the boy who was obviously caught between his feuding folks. "So I park it down the street around the corner."

"Let's go, Kris, common!" his little brother interjected, shoving him. "Okay, we'll be back tomorrow," he told Melissa as they walked out the back way. Melissa just stood there, having felt for the boy and his peculiar woes. Suddenly, Kris pokes his head back in the room and says to Melissa, "Oh yeah, the spare key to my mom's liquor cabinet is in my mom's nightstand drawer," and just as quickly he appeared, he was gone. Melissa laughed.

Now she was left all alone to her own devices for the evening. Meanwhile, her client is rushing to catch a flight should might very well miss...

 

[kimberlee]

I was lucky I wasn't stopped on my way in to the airport. I'd been gunning it from the moment I left my driveway. Even so, it appeared that I was perhaps five or so minutes late. Still, there was always hope that the plane was a tad behind schedule.

After finding a parking space, I grabbed my carry-on, my suitcase and ran for all I was worth to the section where the New York passengers would be buying their tickets and going through security. I prayed I wasn't too late and for the first time actually was thankful for the time security searches took.

I almost stopped short when I noticed the lack of people in the area and of those people, not a one carried a suitcase, briefcase, or overnighter. Instead, I hurried to the counter and rang for service. Then rang again and again until someone finally showed up.

I showed my ticket and was informed that my flight hadn't yet taken off. I sighed in great relief and told the attendant that I had one suitcase and one carry-on to claim.

"I'm sorry Ma'am but all the luggage has been transported," she informed me with a smile.

"Fine. I'll take it on with me," I responded politely.

"I'm sorry but we don't allow for more than one carry-on," she said.

I glanced at her name badge, "Janet, I need to be on that flight. This carries papers and my laptop while my suitcase has my clothes for the weekend. I'll really need both for this weekend."

"Sorry Mz Jameson but regulations are regulations," she said, never losing her smile. "You could always go clothes shopping."

"Fine! I'll put this in a locker," I said indicating my suitcase.

"I'm sorry but I work the ticket counter and I'm new here. I don't believe I can sell you a locker."

"Let me get this straight. You won't let me go on the plane because of this suitcase but you won't let me store my luggage here in a locker?" I asked incredulously.

We do have lockers, I believe they're down there," she said pointing to the far side of the building. I think you'll find the person you need to rent you the space right about there somewhere.

God grant me patience, I thought to myself as I turned to go on my quest for an airport locker.

I was a good hundred feet away when I heard the woman calling at my back, "MA'AM! MA'AM!!! Mz. Jameson!!!" I turned to find her motioning me back. I returned to find a commiserating face. "I'm sorry; but the plane took off."

I turned away and walked as fast as I was able to distance myself from the attendant before I let the urge to wrap my hands around her throat overcome me.

I called the office and explained the situation to my boss. Oddly enough, he seened more amused by my tale than upset that I'd missed the flight. "Don't worry about it Kim. I sent Jack Drake from our Boston office a message and faxed him all the info on the deal after you called earlier. I know this deal's your baby but I worried that you'd miss the flight and while Jack won't be able to wow them as much as you'd have; he should do a good enough job with your presentation that everything'll be good."

I didn't know what to say. I suddenly felt deflated and all my previous energy gone with the knowledge that they weren't even going to try delaying the meeting until I caught another flight. I'd worked hard to pull that deal together and now it had just been passed on to someone else.

I shut my phone and sat in my car for a good 15-20 minutes before even turning the ignition, putting the car in gear and heading home.

 

[Ersatz13]

After one joint, one cheese pizza, and nearly two hours of bad soft-core cable, I was getting a little restless. I'm SO glad bought those three joints from my friend Blaine, otherwise this whole job would be SO boring, between not being able to leave, not being able to have anyone over, and not even any kids around to tease or mess with. Being high always makes me more sneaky and bold, lol, so I think it's time to see who Mr. Client really is, lol.

I had long since gotten comfy on the big fat white leather couch, having kicked off my pink Chucks and popping off my bra from underneath my black tank top; no one is going to be here, I've got the place ALL to myself... I could rock this house naked if I really wanted to, haha. I'm not THAT high yet. But introduce alcohol into the mix, then we're talking. I think it's time to find that elusive liquor cabinet. The older boy tossed me that spare key but didn't tell me where the stash is. Hmm... Single mom, two teenaged boys, I bet the stash isn't where one might expect it. Like in her closest...

I've done enough of these babysitting gigs to know where parents hide their booze and other naughty things. I think it's time to make this a real party. Time to crawl upstairs and do a little investigation. The hunt is ON! Haha... God, I'm so stoned...

Mrs. Jameson's bedroom is pretty massive. Really plush and comfy for sure. I leave the main lights off because even though I may be blitzed right now, I still know that neighbors will notice the light come on though the giant picture window that faces out into the neighborhood street. I find my way to the closet and and disappear inside. Oh my God, this is the biggest walk-in closet I've ever seen! SO many clothes, and other things inside garment bags, tons of dresses and stuff. Wow.

Towards the back of the closet, I feel around, and it's way too dark, so I flip on the running lights, lucky guess, since there are like eight different light switches. That's good enough to see what I'm getting into. At the end of the closet, there's a bank of cabinets and drawers. I open a few, carefully and peek inside. Mostly loose clothing, some costume jewelry, some swimsuits, other random stuff. No booze. Damn.

I keep sniffing around, and I get a little bit more bold and start opening all the drawers. Nothing, just keepsakes and other loose clothing. "Wow she has a lot of underwear," I inadvertently say out loud, as drawer after drawer is filled with silky panties. Each drawer pulls out and stops, except the bottom one... It catches me by surprise as the entire drawer falls out of it's slot, thinking it wouldn't like the rest. "Oh shit," I murmur to myself. The drawer is filled with more silky panties, random garter belts, other intimate wear. I close all the other drawers so I get this one back in, and before I do that, I carefully sink my hand into the drawer filled with delicate items, slowly. God I'm so weird, but the idea of touching another person's intimates sort of gives me a rush. My fingers flirt and feel within the container of Mrs. Jameson's undergarments. I start to get a little lost in the sensation, and I snap out of it, "Okay, yeah..." I say to myself, and put a stop to my odd little spell. I start to inspect the cabinet where the drawer fits in, to make sure I insert it correctly. I put my hand inside the opening to feel around for the tracks that the drawer rolls on, and upon feeling around in there, my fingers run into another thing altogether. I'm sort of startled at first, "oh!" I exclaim quietly, as my fingers encounter something smooth and oily, something almost spongy to the touch but not quite. Something strange. I pull my hand away instinctively, since I can't see what I'm touching inside the space revealed by the removed drawer. I slowly put my hand back in further to intentionally feel around. I come upon an oily shaft, and feel it all the way down to some straps or something. I get brave and take hold of it a pull it out from the dark, secret space. "Holy shit..." I say aloud, as my eyes fall upon a huge black dildo, complete with a strap-on harness.

"God damn..." I say again in amazement. In my little hand I cradle this massive beast, almost as long as my forearm and definitely nearly as thick. I can't even think for a second, as I process my discovery sitting there in a strange woman's closet. I set the massive piece into the drawer with her undies, where it sicks slowly like a horse in quicksand. I put my hand back into the secret space and feel around some more... this is her stash, alright... Two bottles of heating lube, a tube of KY, a small electric vibrator, some expired condoms... and a DVD... "I found someone's porrrr-nooo..." I sang and giggled. The DVD was just in an old CD case, and it was obviously a burned copy. On it, it said, "yummy for you" written in black Sharpie.

"Haha, yummy," I said, as I put everything back into it's secret hiding place, and slide the drawer back into the opening. Still no booze. Lame... But at least now I know my client is a sex freak, haha... The search for alcohol continues...