Date: Sat, 30 Sep 2023 17:59:35 +0000 (UTC)
From: Jörn Roth <jrnroth@aol.com>
Subject: Babysitting with full balls [Adult/Youth Section]

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BABYSITTING WITH FULL BALLS
Author: Jörn Roth (jrnroth@aol.com)
Feel free to reach out if you enjoyed it.
Note: This is a work of fiction. It has no connection to real people or
events.

Story based on the idea of a commissioner

Main Characters:

Ryan Bretsch - 37
A handsome, rich single dad. He is friends with Aaron's father.

Aaron - 17
A busy, shy high school jock in need of money

Jushua - 11
Ryan's videogame-addicted son

* * *

I approached the front door and rang the bell. The house was large and
surrounded by a sprawling garden. Mr. Bretsch clearly had money to burn.
How in the world did my father know someone so rich?
As I waited, I massaged my shoulder. My muscles were still sore from the
football training that afternoon. After a couple of seconds, Mr. Bretsch
opened the door. Tall and with a brooding look, his blue shirt was open,
revealing chiseled abs and pecs. There was a barely noticeable touch of
white in his dark hair.

"Hello, Mr. Bretsch, I'm..."
"Aaron. I know. You can call me Ryan," he said distractedly as he
slowly began buttoning up his shirt, a cold, measuring look in his blue
eyes, "Come in. My son is upstairs."
As I passed him by into the living room, I caught a waft of his cologne
mixed with the strong smell of his aftershave. I felt intimidated by his
presence. I was a very shy kid back then, and had developed a habit of
never doing anything I had not been expressly allowed to do. Mr. Bretsch
hadn't explicitly told me I could go upstairs--only that his son was
there. So I pretended to be interested in the living room, while inside I
regretted taking up this job. It wasn't for me, no matter what dad told
me, that it was easy money and all.

"Well?" Mr. Bretsch's voice startled me. I turned around, trying to
put on the most naive face I could conjure up.
"Oh," I said, "C-can I go upstairs?"
"Well, Joshua is there, what are you gonna do here?"
"Ok, thanks, Mr. Bretsch," I mumbled, not even knowing what I was
thanking him for. There was something overbearing and threatening about
him.
"Ryan," he said coldly.
"Ryan," I repeated, turning around and making for the staircase. Then I
turned around, emboldened by the first-name basis, "Uh, Ryan... When are
you gonna be back, more or less?"
"That depends on how lucky I get. It's a blind date. Don't worry,
I'll pay you accordingly. You can order pizza or... whatever. Gawd, these
new shoes are killing me."
"Ok, good luck, then!" I peeped shyly before stumbling up the stairs.
As I heard the door close behind Mr. Bretsch, I wondered if maybe I
shouldn't have asked when he'd be back.
I knocked on the only door from which noise was coming, and then entered.
Inside, young Joshua was playing a videogame, his eyes glued to the TV. I
sighed. It was going to be a long evening.

* * *

Joshua was actually not a hard kid to look after, even with my little
experience. He spent at least a couple of hours playing his games with me
in the room, to the point where I had started feeling rather useless. It
wasn't until I heard his stomach grumble that I ventured to ask him if
we should order pizza, to which he nodded without taking his eyes off the
screen.
When the door rang, we both went downstairs. I paid the delivery girl,
tipped her generously, and then Joshua and I went into the kitchen to eat
at the counter.

"She had big boobs!" Joshua grinned, slurping up a string of melted
cheese. The comment struck me, even though it was the typical juvenile
comment a 11-year-old with no experience would make. My mind went back to
the delivery girl. She was hot.
"Yea, she did," I smiled awkwardly. I felt my groin area tense up, and
I was suddenly reminded of how much time I had gone without a nice wank.
I had been so under pressure, what with all the homework, football, the
extra activities and the side hustles that I must have left my dick
untouched for almost three weeks.

"Hey," Joshua said suddenly, "you wanna see something?"
"It depends..." I mumbled.
"Come!" he said, enthusiastically dropping his last slice of pizza into
the carton and climbing down the stool.
I followed him hesitantly into the living room, where he turned on the TV
and began zapping through the channels, until I saw a pair of huge boobs
pop up on the screen. And the boobs were attached to a porn actress of
improbable proportions. She was fingering another actress right in the
pussy. My dick shot up immediately.
"C'mon, that's not appropriate," I said, snatching the remote from
Joshua's hands and turned the TV off. Joshua seemed a little confused by
my behavior, as though he didn't consider it weird at all to watch this
stuff. But he quickly regained his composure.

"Come, there's another thing!" he grinned, and immediately jolted up
the stairs, with me tagging behind. He opened the door to the master
bedroom where Mr. Bretsch slept.
"We can't stay here," I protested.
"I can," Joshua retorted with a naughty smile, before diving under the
bed and coming out with a stash of porn magazines showcasing some of the
largest breasts I'd ever seen.
"C'mon, Joshua, put them back, you're gonna get me into trouble," I
said. But it was already too late. From the open window I heard Mr.
Bretsch's angry, domineering voice.

* * *

"Do me a favor," Mr. Bretsch was yelling into his phone, "never hook
me up again, ok? Pfff, more like what wasn't wrong with her! She was
cheap, she was dumb and she wasn't even that hot."
Joshua and I exchanged a surprised look, then he hastily threw the porn
magazines under the bed and we both bolted down the stairs.
When Mr. Bretsch came in, Joshua and I were caught standing like idiots
in the middle of the living room, probably wearing the expression of
guilty convicts. I know I was.

"How was the date?" I peeped.
"A total wash," he said in his razor-sharp tone as he took off his
coat. "What were you doing?"
"Oh, Joshua was showing me a... something... A videogame," I stuttered.
Mr. Bretsch darted me an inquisitive look.
"Ok," he said, "Let me take off these shoes and then I'll pay you.
They're killing me."
With that he went up the stairs and into his room. A few seconds later he
reemerged from it, waving one of the porn magazines. He wore a smug,
knowing expression in his manly face.
"So this is the videogame he was showing you, huh?" he said,
emotionless. "Or did you go looking for it alone?"
"No!" I cried out indignantly. I knew Joshua would get me into trouble.
There goes my money, I thought, a heatwave of embarrassment gusting
through my body.
"I just wanted to show it to him," Joshua said, naively.
"I see," his father smiled, then he turned toward me, "and you
couldn't stop him? Some babysitter."

I was painfully conscious of the sweat that had broken out on my
forehead. I felt myself going red.
"I tried to!"
"Maybe you didn't try hard enough. Maybe on some level you liked it,
huh? Nothing wrong with it. You are young, full of sex drive, aren't
you? It's a question, Aaron. Are you horny?" Mr. Bretsch asked, amused.
"I'm... No! Maybe a bit... But I tried!"
"Maybe you don't touch yourself very often," Mr. Bretsch said, like a
scientist making a guess based on hard facts.
"What does that mean?" Joshua asked from behind me.

"I'll show you. C'mon, Aaron, take off your clothes. I know you want
to. You'd have done it in front of my son anyway," he said, and there
was a strange authority in his voice that I did not dare to disobey.
"Maybe I'd better go..." I said huskily, but Mr. Bretsch's large,
veiny hand grabbed me by my shoulder.
"No. You'll stay. Come on, take off your clothes. It's for your own
good, you know, or you'll be sorting through other people's porn
stashes all your life. C'mon!"

Fearing that I wouldn't get paid, I obeyed. I pulled my sweater up
together with the undershirt, then my eyes fell on Joshua, who was
watching us from the distance.
"Uh..."
"He stays," Mr. Bretsch said calmly, anticipating my plea, "he can
learn a thing or two. Hey, I didn't tell you to stop. Off with those
trousers."
"What?"
"I want you naked. Completely."
The surreal atmosphere was quickly seeping into my inmost being, and I
began to lightly shiver. But I obeyed. I pulled down my trousers and my
underwear, revealing my half-erect cock. Joshua let out a gasp as I
stepped out of my clothes.

"How long have you gone without jerking off?" Mr. Bartsch asked me. He
seemed comfortable with my humiliation. He seated himself on the couch
and looked at me with odd indifference in his blue eyes, as though I was
a boring TV program.
"Uh..."
"That long?" he sneered.
"One week, maybe," I said.
"I'll wager it's more like three," he smirked, pointing at my cock
like a dog expert evaluating a specimen. "Balls are obviously full,
dick's nice and thick, it's already oozing a bit of precum."

"C-can I get dressed now?" I said, cupping my hands in front of my
junk.
"What? Not yet! We gotta do about something about it, first," Mr.
Bartsch said. "Come here, boy."
I approached him haltingly.
"Yea, here, sit on my lap," he said, patting himself on the knees.
"What?"
"You heard me. Come on, Aaron."

So I followed his instructions like an obedient puppy and took place on
his legs while facing him. My cock was now nodding perilously. I'd never
felt attracted by men, but the idea of being in this someone else's
strong, cold hands excited me. Sitting in his lap, my eyes sunk in his, I
felt the slightly rough fabric of his suit as it chafed against my naked
skin. My balls hung loosely on the small mounds in his pants.
I was trembling, but I had gone on too much without jerking off. I felt a
small drop of precum wet the tip of my cock and slide down the shaft. It
was now pointing straight toward him. But he looked at me objectively,
like a surgeon looking where to cut first. I was painfully aware of
Joshua's eyes on me.

"Mr. Bretsch..." I stuttered.
"Ryan," he said, his rough voice now low. "You haven't been having
much fun, lately, huh?"
As his large hand grabbed hold of my dick, I shook my head. I suppressed
a groan of pleasure. I was his to manipulate.
"What are you doing to him, dad?" Joshua asked. He'd approached us and
was now resting his arms on a chair's back, craning his neck to get a
better look. Mr. Bretsch's thumb began massaging my frenulum with a
rotatory motion that made me squeal. I had never felt such pleasure.

"Our friend Aaron here needs some release," Mr. Bretsch explained,
making sure his son could see the movement of his hand on my cock,
"it's not good to have all this pent up energy..."
"Mr--uh, Ryan..." I whispered.
"Shut up," he said roughly, but with a sweet edge. He kept massaging my
cock gently, his thumb still pressing against my frenulum. I was a
stuttering mess at this point.
"The things you found in daddy's room help daddy release his
pressure," he explained to his son, but without breaking eye contact
with me, and without stopping his massage.

I couldn't hold it any longer. My cock started convulsing inside Mr.
Bretsch's grip. He must have sensed it, because he immediately cupped
his other hand in front of my peehole. My whole being lit up with pure
ecstasy, which all converged toward the tip of my junk.
One shot. Three shot. Five. Seven. Ten.
Pretty soon, Mr. Bretsch's hand was filled with thick cum, the thickest
I had ever produced. Shiver after shiver traversed my body. I suddenly
felt cold and weak, and full of shame as I leaned against his hard,
dressed body.

"Well," Mr. Bretsch said, his eyes darting from the handful of cum to
me, "What are we gonna do with this, now?"
"I... uh..."
"It's yours, so it's only fair you take it back," he explained,
raising his cupped hand toward my mouth. I wanted to turn my head away,
but I was afraid of his reaction. So, reluctantly, my head leaning on his
shoulder, I opened my mouth, allowing him to feed me my own cum. I'd
never tasted it. It had a gelatinous texture, and it felt like I was
never done swallowing it.

When it was over, I awkwardly stood up from Mr. Bretsch's lap while he
rubbed his hands together. He sat there on the couch a while, watching me
calculatingly, but I noticed a small mound in his pants. In front of
Joshua's curious eyes I quickly got dressed up.
After a while, Mr. Bretsch stood up and went to his coat, took out his
wallet and reached me a couple of bills.
"Keep the rest," he winked at me.
Three hundred bucks. I'd never had this much money in my hands. Still
shaking, I stuffed the money into my pocket, mumbled a "Thank you,
Ryan," waved goodbye to Joshua and left the house.
It was only when I was home and the time to lie down in my bed that my
mind started racing. What the hell had just happened?

* * *
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In Contact with Nature - Summer camp can be hell if you like cock
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Dad's Victory Ritual - A recipe for success, with extra cum on the side
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