Babysitting Lena

I never thought babysitting an adult would turn into this, but here I was, stepping into the dimly lit apartment of Mrs. Harlan's sister. She'd begged me to look after Lena. A job I had declined many times but now since I was jobless it did not sound too bad. Lena was an 18-year-old whose mind had shattered years ago in some accident, leaving her trapped in a perpetual childlike haze.

"She acts like a five-year-old sometimes," Mrs. Harlan had warned, her voice tight with worry. "Just keep her fed, entertained, and safe. Don't let her wander." I nodded, figuring it was a simple gig for some cash. Once I got another job I would leave this crazy ass girl.

Lena greeted me at the door with a wide, innocent grin, her oversized t-shirt hanging loose over her slender frame, bare legs peeking out like she was ready for a playground. Her dark hair was in messy pigtails, and her eyes sparkled with that unfiltered joy only kids have.

"Hi! Are you my new friend?" she chirped, grabbing my hand and pulling me inside. I chuckled, letting her lead me to the living room where toys scattered the floor—stuffed animals, coloring books, a half-eaten bowl of cereal on the coffee table.

We spent the first hour playing. She dragged me into a tea party with her dolls, giggling as she poured imaginary tea into cracked cups. Her laughter was infectious, high-pitched and pure, but there were moments when her gaze would drift, vacant, like she was lost in some fog only she could see. I kept it light, asking about her "friends" and praising her drawings—crude scribbles of stick figures holding hands. But as the evening wore on, she grew clingy, drawing closer to me.

"You're warm," she murmured, nuzzling my chest like a puppy seeking comfort.

I shifted uncomfortably, her warmth seeping through my shirt, but she just snuggled closer, her hand absentmindedly tracing circles on my thigh. The room felt smaller, the air thicker. My dick twitched.

"Do you like stories?" she asked suddenly, tilting her head up with those big, trusting eyes. I nodded, and she launched into a rambling tale about a princess and a dragon, her voice lilting like a child's rhyme. But midway, she paused, her fingers inching higher on my leg, accidentally brushing the edge of my crotch. My breath hitched. As I became semi hard. This wasn't right—she was vulnerable, broken—but her touch ignited something primal.

I told her a scary story of an ogre teacher who ate the naughty students. She shook with fear and I regretted telling her the story. She crawled into my lap her small body pressing against me.

"Can I sit on your lap like this forever?'" she whispered, grinding subtly against me, her innocence cracking into something curious, exploratory. I froze, heart pounding, but my body betrayed me, hardening under her weight. She noticed, her eyes widening in fascination. 'What's that? It's poking me.' Before I could stop her, her hand slipped down, palming my bulge through my jeans. A soft gasp escaped her lips. "It feels funny... good funny."

Her hands went back and forth on my length. I should have pulled away, reminded her of boundaries, but the way she kept looking at me—eager, unjudging—pulled me under. "Lena," I murmured, my voice rough, "maybe you shouldn't..." But she pouted, that childlike sulk melting my resolve. "Please? I wanna see it." Her fingers fumbled with my zipper, and I didn't stop her. The jeans came undone, my cock springing free, seven inches of my fat dick was throbbing in the open air. She stared, mesmerized, then wrapped her small hand around it, stroking tentatively.

"What is it?" She asked.

"It's a lollipop that makes good girls happy." I answered.

"It's so big and warm," she cooed, pumping slowly, her grip innocent yet insistent. "Can I suck the lollipop? Will it make me happy?"

"No." I said trying to get back my self control. Her big eyes clouded as she asked.

"Am I a bad girl?"

"No Lena. You are a good girl." I said without thinking. She placed her lips on the tip that was oozing precum.

The sensation shot through me like fire. I groaned, cupping her face, but she leaned in, giving it a sloppy kiss.

"Tastes salty," she giggled.

"If you suck it hard it becomes sweeter." I coaxed. She seemed to believe me as she then licked along the shaft, her tongue flat and eager. I tangled my fingers in her pigtails, guiding her mouth down. She took me in, sucking with wide-eyed enthusiasm, bobbing her head like it was a new game. Saliva dripped down her chin as she slurped, her cheeks hollowing with each pull.

"Am I doing it right?" she mumbled around my length, vibrations humming through me.

"Yeah, just like that," I rasped, thrusting gently into her warmth. Her throat relaxed, taking more, gagging softly but not stopping. The sight of her—vulnerable, childlike, devouring me—pushed me to the edge too soon. I pulled out, not wanting to finish yet. She looked up, confused, lips swollen and shiny.

"More play." I said and she nodded,

"Okay. I like to play." She squeezed, "I like the lollipop"

I lifted her onto the couch, peeling off her t-shirt. Her body was soft, untouched—small breasts with pink nipples hardening in the cool air, a sparse patch of hair above her smooth pussy.

I spread her legs, her folds already glistening with arousal she didn't fully understand.

"This is a special game," I told her, dipping my head between her thighs. She squealed as my tongue flicked her clit, her hips bucking instinctively.

"Tickles! But... oh!" She began moaning like a bitch. I lapped at her eagerly, sucking the nub, then plunging my tongue inside her tight heat. She tasted sweet, musky, her juices coating my chin as she writhed, hands clutching my hair. "Aah.. Ooh!" She cried.

Her first orgasm hit fast—her body tensed, a high-pitched whine escaping as she came, pussy clenching around my tongue, flooding my mouth with her release. She trembled, giggling through the aftershocks.

She said something and yawned but I did not get the words. I wasn't done. I positioned myself between her legs, rubbing my cock against her slick entrance.

"We will now play the next part." I said in my raspy voice. She nodded vigorously, wrapping her arms around my neck like a koala.

I pushed in slowly, her walls stretching around me, impossibly tight. She gasped, nails digging into my shoulders.

"Hurts... hurts" Inch by inch, I filled her, bottoming out with a groan. She adjusted her hips giving me more access, her light brown eyes stared widely at my blue eyes. As of she did not believe what she was feeling. I started thrusting, deep and steady, her small breasts bouncing with each slam. It felt so damn good. Her pussy became wetter with each thrust. Soon she was meeting each thrust as if she wanted more.

"Harder! Play harder!" she begged, her childlike voice turning breathy, desperate.

I obliged, pounding into her, the couch creaking under us . She came again, suddenly, crying out as her body spasmed around my cock. She moaned wildly. I didn't slow, flipping her onto her stomach, re-entering from behind. Her ass jiggled with each thrust, my balls slapping against her clit.

She pushed back, meeting my rhythm, lost in the sensation. "More... please, more!" She begged. I reached around, rubbing her swollen clit, and she shattered a third time, screaming into the cushion, her cum soaking my thighs. Sweat slicked our skin, her pigtails coming undone as I chased my own release. Finally, with a guttural moan, I buried deep and erupted, pumping hot spurts into her quivering pussy.

We collapsed together, her breathing ragged, a satisfied smile on her face.

"Will you play with me again tomorrow?" She murmured faintly. I nodded. She curled into me like I was a treasure. I held her, the weight of it all sinking in, but in that moment, it felt right—raw, unfiltered connection in her fractured world. I knew now that I was not going to look for any other job anytime soon.