Caveat lector.

 

If you don't like sex stories, don't read it.

If you don't like stories about sex with underage children, don't read it.

If you don't like stories bout forced sex, don't read it.

If you are below the arbitrary age set for your area, don't read it.

If for any reason it is illegal for you to read this story, don't read it.

 

Find my stories here-

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/normdeploom/

 

Copyright © 2003 Norm DePloom.  ALL Rights Reserved

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author.  This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached.  The author may be contacted at 'MyStories at normdeploom dot com'

 

All the characters and events in this story are fictional; any resemblance to real people or events is entirely coincidental.

 

Babysitting Jeremy

The adventures of that cum slut and sex toy known as Little Whore Ellen

Part 05

 

By

Norm DePloom

 

Mr. Hoover held the car door open for me then, after climbing into the diner's side and starting the engine, he sat and waited for several minutes before he spoke.  

 

"What," he asked, turning to face me and placing his arm over my shoulders, "would you guess would be the proper thing for a fuck doll to do when she's in a car with her owner?"

 

"Suck on his cock?"  I answered tentatively.

 

"That's right."  Mr. Hoover said, then continued to wait patiently.  Even with that much of a hint it took me a couple of minutes to realize exactly what tit was he was waiting for. 

 

"Oh," I said with an embarrassed smile then, after releasing his re-hardening cock from his pants, I leaned over and took it into my mouth.  With one hand on the top of my head, Mr. Hoover put the car in gear and drove down the street.  I could taste both Mrs. Hoover's and my cunts.  As he accelerated, Mr. Hoover's cock pushed deeper into my mouth.  I practiced the technique I'd just learned and opened my throat to the hard invader.  Mr. Hoover's contented sigh encouraged me to take him even deeper into my inexperienced throat.  As I sucked on his hard dick, Mr. Hoover ran his hand down my hair, over my back and butt, then slipped it under my skirt to finger my crotch while he drove.  The drive home really wasn't long enough for a real blowjob, especially for a man who had already cum several times in the last few hours, but Mr. Hoover loved having his dick in my mouth, even if he didn't expect to have an orgasm.  That was fine with me, I love having a cock in me, anywhere inside me.  He practically had to pry my month from his dick when he parked in front of my parent's house.  Just like the week before, I started to get out of the car and he had to stop me.

 

"Don't you want to be paid?"

 

"I wasn't really babysitting."

 

"We still have to pay you," Mr. Hoover said, as he pulled money from his wallet.  He held out his hand with considerably more money than I usually got paid.

 

"Your parents will expect you to be paid.  Besides, how are you going to pay for garters and nylons if we don't pay you?"

 

"I guess I really am a little whore now," I said as I took the offered money. 

 

"Yes, I guess you are," he replied as I shut the car door and he drove away leaving me standing on the sidewalk with my purse in one hand, and a wad of bills and a large rubber cock in the other.  I opened my purse and put the bills in the zipper compartment where I kept my money.  I tried to put the dildo in my purse also, but it was too big to fit all the way in side.  I put as much of it in as could fit, then walked into the house trying to cover the rest of it with my hand.  I was in luck, my parents had already gone to bed.

 

"Is everything ok, dear?"  My mom asked as I walked past their room.

 

"Yes, mom, everything is fine."

 

"Did you lock the front door?"

 

"Yes mom."

 

"Ok, well, good night dear."

 

"Good night, mom.  Good night, dad"

 

"Good night."  My dad added as I closed my bedroom door.  I sat on my bed and looked at the huge rubber cock that Mr. and Mrs. Hoover had sent home with me so I could practice fucking myself.  For some unexplainable reason, I started to cry.  All the fucking, sucking, and perversity that had seemed so exciting just a few minutes ago, now, suddenly felt cheap and degrading.  I couldn't believe that I'd allowed them to take pictures of me with their son's cock in my mouth.  Or that I'd been so desperate for that woman's approval that I'd stuck my tongue in her ass hole without even being asked to.  I had just been paid money to fuck and to degrade myself for the pleasure of others.  I had just become a whore. 

 

Well, I thought after I'd taken my clothes off and climbed into bed, at least being a whore pays better than babysitting.  I dreamed of cocks and cunts all night and woke up wet and horny; a condition I found myself in more and more lately.  I had fallen asleep with the Hoover's dildo in my hand, and I woke up staring at the head of a large rubber cock that was lying beside me on my pillow.  How convenient, I thought as I took it into my mouth for the first of my twice a day oral exercises.  I could still taste my pussy on it from the night before.  As I opened my throat and practiced pushing the dildo all the way inside my mouth, I began to remember how exciting it had been to have all three of the Hoovers watch as I had fucked myself; depositing the very same dried cunt fluids I was tasting at this moment.

 

I continued to force the rubber cock In and out of my throat with my left hand while I spread my legs, then rubbed and tugged on my clitoris with my right hand.  The huge dildo muffled my squeals of joy when I had my first hip-pumping pussy-thrusting orgasm of the day.  As I pulled the rubber cock from my mouth, but continued to move my fingers gently over the folds of my cunt, I wished that I had three hands and another huge dildo so I could suck on one, fuck myself with the other, and still have a hand left to tug on my clitoris.

 

As instructed I used the dildo in my pussy and ass after I finished with it in my mouth.  I had to keep reminding myself that I was back in my own bed and could not vocalize my orgasmic ecstasy the way I did at the Hoovers.  My ass was a bit sore from the night before, so I had to be gentle putting the BRD (Big Rubber Dick), as I'd come to think of it, up my rear, but once the excitement begin to build I got just as wild with it in my ass as I had ben with it in my cunt, and ended up hanging on to the BRD with both hands while I wildly fucking myself.

 

Despite rolling over onto my side and burying my face in my pillow on several occasions, in attempts to muffle myself, I was afraid my parents might have been awakened by my overly enthusiastic expressions of sexual bliss.  However, when I finally up and dressed, I found my parents still asleep in their bed.  Sunday had always been the day to sleep in for them.  After dressing I looked at my face in the mirror, half expecting my face to show some signs of my perverted actions the night before, but there were none.

 

"You," I said to my reflection, "are a whore.  You are paid to fuck."  The small, almost insignificant, feeling of shame that accompanied my self-accusation only seemed to add excitement to the concept.  I left a note for my parent's and left the house headed for the mall. 

 

I was wearing a skirt and sweater, like I always do, except this time I was wearing nothing else, except my sandals.  Unlike other girls my age, I preferred to wear skirts instead of long pants or shorts.  Skirts always made me feel more 'female'.  Mr. and Mrs.   Hoover didn't have to explain their desire for me to quite wearing underwear.  I understood immediately that they wanted me to be available for sex at all times. 

 

I had a three-block walk to the bus stop that would take me to the mall.  As I walked, and the cold morning air swirled around my naked crotch, I realized that I could fuck any man I wanted to just by spreading my legs for him.  Thinking about all the different times and places I could fuck, if I wanted to, had me wet with excitement by the time I reached the bus stop.  I experienced a delicious blend of vulnerability and opportunity.  It's probably a good thing that there weren't any males around while I waited for the bus, I might have pulled him into the bushes to try out my knew, always available pussy. 

 

During the ride to the mall, an old man sitting across the isle kept staring at me.  On impulse, when the bus arrived at the mall, I spread my legs a little more than really necessary and almost burst out laughing when he caught site of my naked cunt.  His eyes bugged out so far I thought they were going to pop from his head. 

 

The first place I stopped in the mall was McDonald's for some breakfast.  As I ate my McMuffin, I thought about how excited showing my pussy to that old man had made me.  I had already discovered my exhibitionist streak at the Hoovers, but this no panties rule was opening all kinds of new doors for me. 

 

I selected one black, and one red garter belt, and two pairs of really nice old-fashioned nylons, and half expected them to card me at the register.  I felt like I was buying contraband, and expected the morality police to show up and tell me I wasn't old enough to buy such sexually provocative clothing.  I headed for the women's restroom; while I was eating breakfast, I had come up with an idea for some fun.  Closing the stall door, I put on the black garter belt and a pair of the stockings.  Shivers ran over my body as I pulled the nylons up my legs.  This was entirely different from the pantyhose I wore on special occasions.  I felt more like a whore just having them on.  The restroom was empty when I came out of the stall, so I stepped over to the sinks and pulled the bottom of my skirt up so I could look at myself.  I could feel my nipples getting hard as I looked at my pubic hair framed by the garter and hose.  It was only after I dropped my skirt, and turned to leave that I saw the sign.  'Sink Area under Surveillance by Video Camera.'   What else could I do?  Facing the camera, I pulled my skirt back up, then waved.  Smoothing my skirt back down, I left the room and headed for the shoe store on the other side of the mall.

 

I walked around pretending to look at the shoes while I waited for a salesman who appeared to be about my father's age to finish with the older woman he was waiting on.  The longer I waited for my chosen victim, the hotter I got.  By the time he was free, I was pondering the heals on a pair of six inch spikes as possible surrogates for BRD. 

 

"My I help you young lady?"  I turned to face him holding the shoes. 

 

"Yes," I answered, doing my best to look as young and innocent as possible, "I'd like to try these on."  I gave him the shoes and sat down in one of the chairs facing away from the opening to the mall.  The salesman pulled one of those slanty shoe-store stools over and sat facing me.  I put my foot up on the slanty part, making sure he got just the briefest glimpse under my skirt, just enough to let him know I was naked where it counted the most.  He did not seem to notice, but when he stood up to get the shoes from the storeroom, he pushed his hand into his pocket in an attempt to hide the bulge that was already growing in his trousers.  I pretended not to notice, after all, I was just an innocent young thing, who had no idea that the nasty old shoe salesman was looking up her skirt. 

 

I gave him a better look between my legs while he slipped the shoes on my feet and fastened the buckles.  He let his hand rest on my calf for a moment after fastening the second buckle, and I was way to busy looking at the shoes to notice that, as he helped me move my foot off the stool, the salesman managed to spread my legs for another good view between my thighs.  I stood up, and with my skirt covered pussy just inches from his face, looked down at the shoes.  I sat back down, making sure my skirt was pulled just a little higher than before and placed my left foot back on the slanty part of the stool.  I rocked my foot back and forth several times examining the shoe.  The salesman was no longer even trying to pretend that he wasn't looking at my naked cunt.  Leaving my left foot on the stool, I twisted my upper body to the right.  In the process, I spread my legs further apart and pulled my sweater tight against my tits.

 

"I think," I said, pointing to the shelf behind me, "that I'd like to try that red pair."

 

"Yes," the salesman said, "the red pair."  I turned back around to discover that the salesman had not taken his eyes off my pussy to see which shoes I was pointing to.  I leaned forward, allowing my knees to spread further.

 

"The red ones," I repeated, practically whispering it in his ear.

 

"Yes," he said with a guilty blush, "of course, the red ones."  There was no way the salesman could even try to hide the hard cock in his pants when he stood up and walked to the storeroom.  When he came back, the salesman was carrying the shoebox in front of his crotch for obvious reasons.  I still had my left foot up on the slanty stool, he put the box down on the floor after he sat on the flat part of the stool then he placed his hand on the back of my leg, right below my knee and let it slide down my calf to my ankle, it was all I could do to keep my hands out of my crotch, or off of his.  After removing the first shoe, and helping me into the second, the salesman ran his hand back up the back of my calf to the back of my knee, where he lingered for a few moments before lifting my left leg off the stool.  He repeated the process with the right shoe, complete with lingering caresses.  After he lifted my right leg down from the stool, his hand moved upward from the back of my knee instead of downward.  I spread my legs as far as the chair would allow and a shiver ran down my spine when his fingers touched my wide-open, wet cunt.  I closed my legs as soon as his fingers touched my pussy, holding his hand between my thighs.

 

"For the shoes?"

 

"Come with me," the salesman said after a quick look around the store.

 

"I hope so," I said as I stood up and followed him into the back room.  He didn't even take me into the tiny office I saw in the corner of the storeroom, but back between two shelving units stacked high with shoeboxes.  Pushing me back against the cement wall, the salesman pushed one hand between my legs and clumsily fingered my wet pussy while he unzipped his fly with the other.  It's a good thing I was already excited, because this guy was not a great lover.  As soon as his hard cock was free from his pants, he lifted my legs and pushed it into my cunt.  The only reason I came at all was because I'd been on the edge since I flashed that man on the bus, and everything I'd done since thins added to my excitement.  The only thing really exciting about being fucked by the shoe salesman in the shoe store storeroom was that it was my first freelance whore job.  Three minutes after I got up from the chair, I was walking out of the store wearing a two hundred dollar pair of shoes, and with shoe salesman cum dripping down my thighs. 

 

This turned out to be a very educational experience.  Within fifteen minutes, it turned nasty, and not sexy nasty, but betrayal nasty.  I learned that my 'customers' often suffered from 'buyer's remorse'.  I was approached by one of the mall security guards, who insisted that I accompany him back to the shoe store.  The asshole who fucked me was actually the store manager, and now he was trying to get me busted for stealing the shoes.  The asshole, the security guard, and I sat around the desk in the tiny office in the corner of the shoe store storeroom, discussing my immanent arrest for shoplifting.  It's a good thing I can think on my feet, so to speak. 

 

"Hey asshole," I said to the store manager, "you think it will be easier to explain to your boss why you raped an underage customer than it would be to explain a missing pair of shoes?" 

 

"I did not rape you."

 

"When you call the police," I said turning to the security guard, "be sure and let them know that I will need transportation to the emergency room for a rape examination."  I turned back to the asshole.

 

"Your cum is dripping from my cunt, asshole, and I'm only sixteen years old, that's rape in this state, even if you did try to buy me off with a pair of shoes." 

 

"Ok, don't have her arrested, she can leave, but the shoes have to stay."

 

"Call the police," I said to the guard, "he raped me."  I was bluffing, and I could tell the guard knew it. 

 

"Alright," the asshole gave in, "get that whore out of my store."  I stood up and walked towards the door.

 

"Tell me," I said turning to face the asshole, "who's more pathetic, a sixteen-year-old whore who fucks for a pair of two hundred dollar shoes or the middle-aged asshole who gives her the shoes for a two minute fuck?"