Authors note: I had pretty much decided not to write this final chapter, after reading the caustic comment about being sick and needing to be locked up. After much reflection, I decided that the person who made the comment is probably a lonely frustrated person desperate to spread their negativity in an effort to make themselves feel better. Thinking about all the positive votes and other positive comments, I decided to finish the story.
The following day, I awoke with so many mixed emotions. Depression, fear, arousal, anticipation as well as a genuine feeling of love for this child had me sweating as well as throbbing. I was a little tender from last night so I really didn’t want to jerk off and make it worse. It was difficult for my immature mind to come to grips with sexual arousal for this girl, while at the same time feeling that I was just as big of a pervert as her father. I rationalized being less perverted by thinking that I hadn’t forced her or taken advantage of her like her dad did.
Who could I talk to that could help with all this drama playing out in my head? Not my parents, not the Sunday school minister, and certainly not the girl’s mother. I guess I did what most immature guys do and that was to do something else to take my mind off the problem. That worked for a couple of days, until my mother told me that I was needed to babysit again Friday night .The eight year old’s parents obviously trusted me, and the kid still wanted me to come babysit her, so I would try and make the best of it.
When I arrived Friday night, the father said he needed to talk to me privately before they left for the night. As we walked out to the backyard, I started sweating and my heart was racing, not knowing what he wanted to talk to me about. He started out by saying that he was worried about his daughter, because she was acting differently since I had started babysitting, and he wanted to know if anything out of the ordinary had happened. In my mind I thought, that I should tell him that his daughter had told me about his medicine and what he had planned on doing to her. Being about a foot shorter than him and being outweighed by sixty pounds, I decided that I should be very careful about what I said. When I was able to get some composure and think a little more clearly about my situation I decided to be very coy. I told him that I had a problem giving his daughter medicine, because she kept telling me I wasn’t doing it like her dad did. I told him that made me angry and I told her that I didn’t care, and that she should be quiet and listen to me. I noticed that he had started to sweat and squirm around uncomfortably, and obviously was trying to choose his words very carefully also.
When he finally spoke, he started with the bullshit talk of how kids her age often lie and tell stories that aren’t true to get attention. He was obviously getting the impression that I was buying his story, because he was getting less nervous. He said that he just wanted to make sure that I didn’t fall for her stories and then said he had to go.
Chicken shit me, I thought; here was the perfect opportunity, and I let it pass by. Of course I shouldn’t have been so hard on myself, considering my age, as well as the intimidation factor. I wandered back into the house, and the parents were ready to leave. Before they did, the father said to his daughter that she better be behaved and not be telling any stories that made me uncomfortable. He looked at her very sternly and I could see the fear in her eyes. She said she was tired and needed to go to bed (I think she did this to get away from his glare). The parents left and I gave it a few minutes before going in to tuck her in for the night.
As I reached the bedroom door, she asked me if they had left, and if it was safe to talk. Although I was hoping to avoid the conversation, I knew I was stuck, so approached her bed and said sure we can talk. She wanted to know what my father had said when we went outside, so I pretty much told her word for word what he had told me. She wanted to know if I had told him about the things we had discussed last weekend, and I said no. That pretty much started a crying session, and instinctively, I put my arm around her to console her. She pulled away from me and said she was very disappointed that I didn’t try to help her situation, and maybe she would just talk to her mother about everything that had happened. Panic time! The sweat started, the heart raced, and I searched deeply in my mind to find the words that I might say to change her mind.
It seemed like a long time, but it was probably only a few seconds, until I was able to speak something intelligent to her. I explained how intimidating it was looking up at her much bigger father, and not being able to tell him what I needed to say. She blurted out between sobs “well how do you think I feel when I see his cock coming for me?” At that point I felt like a real shit, so I grabbed her and hugged her tightly, while telling her how sorry I was. She began to calm down and said to me that she just didn’t know what to do or who to turn to, and looked up at me with those puppy dog eyes. I guess I must really be some kind of pervert, because when I got the puppy dog eyes routine, my cock started to jump and throb. Go figure that she would notice, because her head was resting on my chest and after looking down, it was pretty noticeable. Before I had a chance to shift positions so my boner wasn’t so noticeable, she put her hand right on it and started rubbing me through my pants. I stood up to get away from the situation, and unfortunately with my pants tented outward, it was even more obvious.
As I stood there trying to figure out what to do, she suddenly grabbed the elastic waistband of my pants and with one quick pull had my pants and underwear at my ankles. My throbbing cock moved up and down pointing towards her face, and in an instant she had my cock fully engulfed in her mouth. I really don’t believe that I wanted this to happen, and although it was probably going to make things worse, I couldn’t help but get lost in the sensation of that tongue and lips working on my cock. In fact, because of the shock of this happening so fast, it was only a few seconds later that I felt my balls start to send that signal north, and her mouth was now sucking a huge load out of my cock. Looking down at this sweet kid gulping down my cum was like a double edged sword. On the one hand I wanted to grab her head and deepthroat her while she swallowed my cum, but on the other hand, I felt ashamed and guilt ridden. I did nothing other than stand there until she finished swallowing and released my cock from her mouth.
What do I say now? What do I do now? She looked up at me with such a look of love and adoration, that I began to cry. I know, boys aren’t supposed to cry, but this was a very complicated situation, and my mind just got overwhelmed. I sat down beside her and told her that she must listen to me very carefully, and promise that she will do as I ask. She said she would because she loved me.
After a few seconds, when I was a little more composed, I told her that she must promise me that she would never tell anyone of the things we had done, and she wasn’t to tell anyone of the things her father had done. I also told her that I was going to talk privately with her father and tell him that I know what he did to his daughter, and if it didn’t stop immediately, I was going to go to the police. She tried to interrupt me, but I told her that she must promise to do these things, no ifs, ands, or buts. She nodded and hugged me tightly, and I knew that I had just gained a measure of maturity, because I didn’t feel a thing in my groin. No throb, no twitch, nothing. I said that I would talk to her father as soon as he got home, and gave her my phone number so she could call me if he gave her any trouble. I told her that we must never repeat any of the things we had done, and then asked her to try and get some sleep. She tried to talk and I placed my hand gently to her lips and said, you must do this for me. She nodded and then lay down on her bed. I kissed her forehead, said goodnight, and promised her that I would make certain she was safe.
The parents were to be home around midnight, and at 1 o’clock I was starting to wonder what was going on. When the clock hit 2 o’clock, I noticed flashing lights approaching the house, so I ran to the window to see what was going on. I saw two policemen coming to the door, so I opened it and asked them what was happening. They asked my name and also asked who lived here, and who was home right now. They weren’t offering much in the way of an explanation, but they did ask to come in to talk. In my head I was thinking that they had discovered what was going on and maybe they would be arresting me.
They told me to prepare myself for some bad news, and went on to say that the parents had been in a terrible accident, and neither of them had survived. I was shocked and upset, while at the same time a little relieved that they weren’t here to arrest me. They went on to say that they were aware I was just babysitting, so could I please go and wake up the child so they could tell her. I brought her to the living room, and sat hugging her as they began to deliver the devastating news. She began crying hysterically and clung to me so tightly that my ribs started to ache. I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, and while thinking about being embarrassed for crying, I couldn’t help but notice the tears in the eyes of the policemen. The police said that someone from the Child Services Agency was on the way, and they should be here any minute.
I guess from that moment everything became a blur and I don’t remember much of what was said. I remember the child finally releasing me to go to the Child Services worker, and I remember giving her one last hug and telling her that I loved her. The police drove me home, and waited to see if my parents were still up. They weren’t up, but the police asked me to wake them so they could explain what had happened and why I was so late.
Once in a while the child would call me to talk about what was happening, and to let me know that she would never reveal our secret. I guess the foster home she was placed in, was a very happy and loving place, because the phone calls got fewer and eventually stopped. I felt as if I had lost a very good friend and I know that may sound strange, but it’s true.