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The Fertile Babysitter Bundle (BWWM Interracial Romance Collection)

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by Yvonne Tyler




  The Fertile Babysitter Bundle (BWWM Interracial Romance Collection)

  Yvonne Tyler

  (2015)

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  The Fertile Babysitter Bundle

  By Yvonne Tyler

  © 2015 Yvonne Tyler

  These stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  The Fertile Black Babysitter

  I've been babysitting for the Grants since I was fifteen. They were nice people and they paid well. At first I was a little uncomfortable because I’m black and they’re white, but they never had a problem with it.

  Every other Friday night for three years, I've been their regular babysitter. I’ve watched their daughter, Kara, go from a chubby-cheeked three-year-old to a precocious six-year-old who is way too smart for her own good. She’s always called me “Sissy” even though my name is Cecelia. She wasn’t able to pronounce it when I first started sitting for her, so she dubbed me Sissy and it stuck. Even Mr. Grant calls me Sissy now. The only one who refers to me as Cecelia is Mrs. Grant.

  I’ve always wondered if she genuinely likes me or if she just tolerates me because her daughter loves me. She’s always seemed a little cold, a little distant. For the past few months, I’ve noticed that she was distant from her husband, as well. They were never the lovey-dovey type of couple who engaged in public displays of affection, but the tension between them was now palpable. As soon as they got home from wherever they went on Friday nights, she would wordlessly go upstairs to her bedroom while I explained to Mr. Grant what Kara and I had done, what she had eaten, how much TV she had watched. All the stuff that parents want to know when they’ve left their kid with a babysitter. Then he would pay me, and we would be done until two weeks later at five o’clock.

  Only lately, I wasn’t able to get Mr. Grant out of my mind.

  He was a good-looking man. Dark brown hair, peppered with gray at the temples. The prettiest green eyes that threatened to swallow you up when he looked at you. And that smile. Oh, God, that smile. It was enough to make me weak in the knees.

  I knew that it was just a daydream. It would never become anything other than my fantasy. He was twenty years older than me, married, and had a kid. Plus, there was the obvious racial divide.

  Still, it didn’t hurt to fantasize, right?

  I had been thinking of Mr. Grant when I was alone in my bed at night.

  I imagined him kissing me, his soft lips moving against mine. Those strong hands caressing my body. I thought at his hands while I ran my own hands down over my breasts, full and perky. My nipples hardened beneath my touch. My hands continued their journey over my flat toned stomach to the junction between my legs. My mound was hairless, the skin smooth and soft. I toyed with myself, letting my fingers explore and my body react. My clit began to swell beneath my touch. I circled it gently with my fingers, amazed at how sensitive this tiny nubbin of flesh was. It felt as though all of the energy in my body was concentrated in this small circle. I could feel something growing deep within my belly, a tightening sensation as my muscles wound tighter and tighter.

  I sighed with pleasure as my fingers continued circling my clit, gradually increasing the speed and pressure. I gingerly slid my middle finger into my tight wet slit, wishing that it was Mr. Grant’s cock inside of me. My juices coated my finger as I worked it slowly in and out. I slipped another finger inside my glistening pussy and moaned. I arched my back and bucked against my hand as my fingers filled me. I tweaked my nipples with my free hand, sending sharp waves of pleasure throughout my body. My thumb circled my clit as I continued to fuck myself with my fingers, my heaving breasts glistening with sweat. I writhed and moaned on my bed, gasping when my fingers hit an especially sensitive spot deep within me. I worked this spot, feeling the muscles deep in my belly starting to clench. I thought of the head of Mr. Grant’s cock hitting that same spot instead of my fingers, and it pushed me over the edge.

  I came with explosive force, gritting my teeth and hissing through them as the world disappeared in a blinding flash of light. My pussy contracted and released around my fingers again and again as the waves of my orgasm washed over me. My breath came in staccato gasps until my climax had passed. I pulled my soaked fingers from my tender and swollen pussy, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. Satisfied, I drifted off to sleep wishing that Mr. Grant’s arms were wrapped around me.

  * * * * * * *

  This went on for months. I would show up every other Friday at five. Kara and I would have a blast playing together. She would go to sleep at 8:30, and the Grants would get home around 9:30. Mrs. Grant would go up to her bedroom while Mr. Grant and I talked. Then, my mom would pick me up at 9:45 and I would go home. Same routine. Always consistent.

  Until one day when the Grants came home right after I had finished putting Kara to bed. I didn’t even hear them come in; I only realized it when I walked downstairs and found Mr. Grant sitting on the sofa, his head in his heads.

  “Mr. Grant?” I asked, worriedly. What were they doing home so soon? When he turned to face me, I realized that it looked like he had been crying. My heart clenched in my chest. “Is everything okay?”

  He took a deep, trembling breath. “Don’t worry about it, Sissy. Everything will be fine.”

  “Do you want me to stick around? Kara is already asleep, but I don’t mind staying if you want me to.”

  “No, it’s okay. You can go on home.”

  I took my cell phone out of my purse and dialed my mom’s number. She never picked up, but she wasn’t expecting to come get me for over an hour. She might have been out with her boyfriend, for all I knew.

  “No answer.” I sighed as I slipped my phone back into my purse. Things were feeling a little awkward. I really didn’t want to stick around, but I didn’t want to walk three miles home, either.

  “It’s okay. I’ll take you home.” Mr. Grant said as he rose from the couch.

  “Are you sure? I don’t mind walking.” I lied. I didn’t want to put him out. He looked like he was under enough stress now as it was.

  “Don’t be silly. There’s no way I would let you walk home at night. Just let me grab my keys.”

  Five minutes later we were on the way to my house. This was the first time he had ever driven me home before, so I had to give him directions. He seemed to be calmer now, but stress was still radiating from his body. We pulled up in front of my house and he put the car in park.

  “You know, Mr. Grant, I’m here if you ever want to talk about anything. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I can tell that you’re upset about something. If there’s anything that I can do to make it better, I will.” I hated seeing him look so dejected.

  “Thanks, Sissy. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

  Without thinking, I leaned over to give him a hug. I realized, too late, that it might have been a mistake. He didn’t pull away, though. He wrapped his arms around my lower back, drawing me closer. I held on to him, breathing in the sweet musky scent at the base of his neck. My heart started to pound.

  “Really, Mr. Grant. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.” I whispered into his neck.

  I started to pull away from him, but he caught the underside of my chin with his fingers. He tilted my face up so that I was looking at him, drowning in his eyes.

  Then, he kissed me.

  It was even better than I had imagined. His soft, full lips moved against mine as though they were long-lost lovers finally coming home to a familiar embrace. His tongue slipp
ed between my parted lips, exploring my mouth, setting me on fire. My nipples grew taut, pressing against the thin fabric of my bra. His hand caressed the side of my face, gently tracing a line down to my breasts. He cupped of them in his hand and I moaned, arching my back to press myself into his hand.

  That was what broke the spell.

  He pulled away from me and blinked, dumbfounded. He looked as though he had just awoken from a dream and had no idea how he got here.

  “Oh, shit. Sissy, I’m sorry. I…I don’t know what came over me.” He ran a hand through his hair, concern and embarrassment etched onto his face.

  “Don’t worry about it. It was nothing.” I lied. I was desperate to have his hands on my body again. Heat still bloomed between my legs. I tried to play it off as I got out of the car. “I’ll see you in two weeks.” I said as I closed the door behind me. I didn’t look back as I walked up my front steps and closed the door behind me.

  I leaned against the door, waiting to hear his car driving away, my heart still beating wildly in my chest. What the fuck had just happened? I chalked it up to him just being upset, but I hoped he didn’t regret it. I sure as hell didn’t.

  * * * * * * *

  Of course, I couldn’t stop thinking about Mr. Grant that night. My mom called me back just a few minutes after I got home, and I told her that she didn’t need to worry about picking me up from the Grants’. She started asking questions, but I just told her that they came home early because Mrs. Grant wasn’t feeling well. I have no idea what the truth of the night was, but I figured my guess was as good as any. If the Grants wanted me to know what was going on, they would tell me.

  Still, I couldn’t stop guessing about what the problem was. I’m a little ashamed to say that part of me hoped that they were having marital problems. For one, it would make me feel a little less guilty about kissing a married man. For two, it gave me some hope, however small, that he could be mine.

  * * * * * *

  I went about the rest of my nightly routine in a daze. I was still obsessing over the kiss when I slipped beneath my sheets. After an hour of tossing and turning, it seemed apparent that sleep wasn’t going to come easily tonight. The more I thought of Mr. Grant, the more aroused I got. I slid my hand down my belly and caressed my clit through my thin cotton panties. The feeling was delicious, forbidden, and I slipped my hand down inside my panties, my pussy hot and wet under my hand. I circled my clit with my fingers, the tight sensation within my belly increasing, building, as I became wetter and wetter. I threw the sheets off of me, losing myself in the moment, responding to my body's desires with my fingers. I thought about how good it would feel to have Mr. Grant penetrate me for the first time. I closed my eyes and moaned his name, my hips moving in tempo with my hand. The pressure within my belly exploded as I found my climax. I bit my lip to keep from crying out as the convulsions rocked my body, my fingers soaked in my own juices. I kept my eyes closed and my fingers on my clit as I returned to earth, my breath a ragged panting.

  I hoped, against all odds, that our first kiss would lead to more…

  * * * * *

  Two weeks later, I was ringing his doorbell at the usual time. Usually the Grants were ready to go as soon as I got there and opened the door almost as soon as I rang the bell, but today was different. After no answer and no sound from inside, I rang again. I could hear heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. Mr. Grant opened the door, and my heart dropped.

  He looked like he hadn’t slept since I saw him last. He had heavy dark circles under his eyes and his usually clean-shaven face was coated with stubble. He usually looked so polished, but now he looked so…worn.

  “Are you okay?” I gasped.

  “Hey, Sissy. I forgot that you were coming today. I should have called and told you…I just forgot. Kara’s not here.” He seemed close to breaking.

  “What happened? Is she okay?”

  “Yeah, she’s fine. She’s with her mom. Staying at her place this weekend.”

  “Her place? What are you talking about?”

  “We’re splitting up. She moved out the day after the last time you were here. Apparently she’s been planning it for a while.”

  “Shit. I’m sorry, Mr. Grant.” He looked so defeated, I would have done anything to make him feel better. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I don’t know, Sissy…I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

  “Why? I’m not technically your babysitter right now since Kara’s not here. This can just be a talk, as friends. I promise that I’m a really good listener.”

  “I haven’t talked to anyone about it. I haven’t even told my own mother yet.”

  “All the more reason that you should talk to me about it. You need to get it off your chest. The longer you hang on to it, the worse it’ll be.” I insisted.

  “I guess you’re right.” He said as he stepped aside.

  “Of course I am.” I said brightly as I walked inside. He followed me into the kitchen and I started making a pot of coffee for us.

  “So…what’s up?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

  “Do you have a while? It’s kind of a long story.”

  “I have plans to be here until nine. I’d say you could tell it in four hours.”

  It was a long story. We drank cups of coffee while he told me the saga of their troubled marital life. Every Friday for the past three years, they had been going to marriage counseling and then out to dinner to try and improve their relationship. A big issue for them was that he had always wanted a big family, but she didn’t. He thought that after she had Kara, she would change her mind. She never did. After a couple of years of pleading, she reluctantly agreed that they could try for another baby. When a year had passed and she still wasn’t pregnant, he was able to convince her to get some fertility treatments. Once a month, she went to a doctor to have tests run and treatments done. At least, that’s what Mr. Grant thought. As he had recently found out, there was no fertility doctor. She had had her tubes tied during the C-section with Kara and had never told him. She knew that she couldn’t have children, but she went along with his wishes to try and keep the peace instead of coming clean. The lying and pretending, the false hope that he would have another child, hurt him more than her coming clean with him in the first place. During their last counseling session, the last night I had babysat for them, they decided that it would be better for both of them if the marriage ended. Irreconcilable differences. She knew it was coming and had started to prepare for it months ago.

  So, she moved out and took Kara with her. She agreed to let Mr. Grant have her every other weekend until a permanent custody agreement was worked out.

  It was tough seeing Mr. Grant so devastated, but at the end of our talk he seemed like he was feeling a lot better. It was almost nine thirty and my mom would be there to pick me up soon. We said our goodbyes and he helped me into my coat.

  “Sissy, this might sound weird, and feel free to say no, but…would you mind keeping up this routine? Coming over every other Friday night and talking for a few hours? I really like having you around and don’t want to lose you on top of everything else.”

  “I would love that, Mr. Grant.” I smiled up at him while my heart flip-flopped in my chest.

  “Please, call me Tom.” He smiled at me, the first time I had seen him smile in weeks. A thousand butterflies took flight in my stomach as I walked away from his house towards my mother’s waiting car.

  * * * * * *

  Six months had passed since Tom’s wife left. I graduated high school, and he insisted that I should go out partying with my friends the night of my graduation instead of going over to his house. I agreed to skip seeing him, but only because my mom would have gotten suspicious of me going over there instead of going out. Unfortunately, that meant that it would be four weeks without seeing him instead of the usual two. Even though I had a great time that night with my friends, I really wished that I was there with him.

  Finally, it
was time to see him again. I spent far more time getting ready than I usually would, agonizing over what to wear and how I should do my hair. At last, mom was dropping me off at his house just at five o’clock.

  I didn’t even have to ring the bell before he opened the door with a grin on his face.

  “I have a surprise for you.” He sounded like he was barely able to contain his excitement. “But you have to close your eyes.”

  “What?” I asked. I definitely was not expecting this.

  “You know, for your graduation. Now close your eyes.”

  I did as he said. He looped his arm through mine and put a hand on my shoulder to guide me. Even though I couldn’t see, I knew he was taking me to the kitchen. A flood of delicious smells hit my nose, and I tried to identify them. Whatever it was, it smelled amazing.

  “Okay. You can open your eyes now.” He said. He didn’t take his arm away from mine.

 

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