Falling for the Babysitter

Chapter 26

This is our home. Our beautiful, perfect home.

It takes a couple weeks before we’re completely settled in the new house. I wanted to give my mom some time to adjust before just shipping out. Now that she’s used to the idea of me being gone, and encourages it, I’m excited to start staying with Deacon and Bailey.

Over the last week we’d been painting the nursery. We went with a mint for a neutral color since we don’t know yet if our new baby will be a boy or girl. We haven’t decided if we want to know the sex at all until the delivery. I always thought it was kind of fun when people didn’t know. The biggest surprise of one’s life. Except I don’t know how long I will hold out. I already want to go shopping for little outfits and there aren’t enough cute baby stuff in neutral colors for me to get excited about.

It’s my first night sleeping in the new house. After all the work and decorating we’ve done, this feels like my reward. My mom volunteered to keep Bailey overnight so Deacon and I could have some much needed alone time together. Once this baby comes, and since I’ll be breastfeeding, it’ll be impossible to sneak in time for just us.

After dropping Bailey off, we go inside the house. It still smells like fresh paint.

“It’s so quiet in here,” Deacon says. He walks up to me, rubs my belly. It’s sort of a new obsession with him, always touching it, rubbing it like a crystal ball that might reveal his future if he looks hard enough. His hands slip up and over my sensitive breasts. “Should we fill it with your screams of pleasure?” he says. Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

I close my eyes and lean back against him, marveling in the feel of his touch. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Everything about my body is sensitive right now. Hyper-aware of Deacon’s touch. In fact, just the other day, he gave me an orgasm just by breathing on my clit. It was incredible. I’ve heard that can happen

during pregnancy, and I also heard there might be a stretch of time when I won’t feel like being touched at all. So right now, while my body feels as though it’s tripping on Ecstasy, I’m going to enjoy it while I can.

I lift my arms for him to slip off my dress. It’s gotten cooler out so I’m wearing boots. Those are difficult to unzip so I take them off myself while he strips out of his clothes. We’re both far too turned on to worry about the ceremony of the slow striptease. We just want to see each other naked.

He’s already fully erect. There hasn’t been a time yet where he hasn’t been after talk of sex. I’ve always heard older men—even men in their thirties—need a little encouragement down there from time to time, but not Deacon. He’s a stallion and always ready to go.

I kneel down on the floor before him, taking his huge cock in my hand and suck the head into my mouth. I love the taste of his pre-come. I was afraid that was one of the things that would change when everything else about my body changed, but not at all. If anything, it tastes better. Sometimes I even crave the taste of cum, and I suck him off every chance I get.

His cock barely fits in my mouth. Good thing I have a big mouth and know how to breathe through my nose while he stuffs it in.

“Look at me, baby,” he says, as he holds the sides of my head, spearing himself into my stretched throat. He likes me to look him in the eyes while he fucks my mouth. Our eyes lock, tears streaming down my cheeks as my mouth spreads to accommodate his mass.

The faster he thrusts, the more I tear up. Drool spills from the corners of my mouth. With him so far down my throat, it’s impossible to use those muscles to swallow.

He pulls out suddenly and I wipe my wet face with the back of my hand. He then lifts me up by my armpits and hauls me to my feet.

“On your hands and knees,” he says. He’s so demanding when he’s turned on, the opposite way he acts toward me in our regular life. I love how he takes charge, flexing authority.

I never question him anymore when he demands something of me during sex because I’ve grown to realize I enjoy it all. Some things more than others, but there hasn’t been a single thing he’s done that hasn’t given me the best orgasms of my life.

Once I’m on all fours, he stands behind me, lifting my backside into the air until I’m standing on my hands in a vertical 69 position. I can’t reach his cock from this angle with my mouth, but he has perfect access to my pussy. My legs are up in the air, spread apart. I’m flexible and can do the splits, so I’m able to spread them far. He makes the sexiest sounds when he’s turned on. Deep, masculine sounds of approval when he sees my open pussy that only turn me on more.

He holds my waist while he buries his face in my wet cunt, not leaving any of my skin unexplored.