The Forbidden Babysitter: Ch. 03

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**Chapter 3**

The last week had been one full of new experiences for Michael, an awakening of sorts. In only seven days he had managed to have more sex than in the previous year combined, and this was only the beginning.

Sitting behind the heavy black walnut desk in his private corner office, contemplating all the changes in his life, Michael leaned back in his chair and looked out the window. The thick office door shut tight against the open-plan chaos of cubicles outside, providing him with at least a little sense of order. Friday afternoon sunlight filtered through the half-closed blinds, casting long golden stripes across the dark paneling and the family photos lined up on the credenza--Emma and Ethan beaming in their school pictures. Alisa's picture stood beside theirs with that dull, soulless corporate smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Date night should have been something to look forward to, but it had turned into another chance for Alisa to make sure he knew he wasn't worthy. On these nights she gave marginally more effort than usual. He should've been finalizing reservations at that overpriced seafood place she liked, maybe psyching himself up to try and rekindle whatever spark had died years ago. Instead, his dick was half-hard under the desk from the memory of Olivia and her visit Tuesday.

Tuesday, it should have been a quiet day at home, alone. Instead it found Olivia riding Michael on the carpet like a bronco until they both came so hard the neighbors probably heard. After they'd untangled, naked and leaking on the floor, Michael took charge the way a forty-six-year-old father of two needed to. No more games or reckless bullshit. It was past time to lay down the law.

"Olivia," he'd stated, one hand still possessively gripping her bare bottom, "we need guidelines, something to follow. I can't deny what's going on between us anymore. I tried to fight this but I need to face reality or I'm going to ruin everything." He softened and continued, "My children, those two kids worship the ground you walk on, you know that right? They still think Alisa and I are forever and I'm not destroying their world because I can't control my urges. We set these rules, real ones, and we follow them or else this ends."

He'd laid it out cold, voice like gravel hitting steel: no more surprise visits to the house unless Alisa's schedule was locked ironclad for the full day--every minute accounted for. Burner phone-app messages only, coded and self-erasing, nothing that could ever be traced back through the digital fog. Never anywhere near the kids' school, their games, or their routines. Never on date nights. And if the walls ever started closing in, if the heat built even a whisper too high, the entire affair terminated immediately.For the kids.

The tone and force with which Michael laid out the rules was intoxicating. The way he took charge and told her what's what -- that dominant tone made her even wetter. She needed him again right now. Olivia looked up at him with those seductive eyes and purred sweetly, "Yes, Daddy. Rules duly noted."

Michael had registered the term,daddy, a strange little jolt hitting him, but he shoved it aside. He was trying to be responsible, trying to set boundaries, not get distracted by whatever naughty thrill that title sent through him. She kissed him then, slow and deep until he almost broke every single rule right there. But he'd held the line, just barely.

And now here he was on Friday--date night--holding a sheet of quarterly earnings reports, staring at the wall without seeing a single number. His dick was partially hard at the memory of her tight pussy clenching around him while she whispered how much better he felt than any boy she'd ever been with. It wasn't just the sex, that was mind-blowing. It was the way she handled herself, the sounds she made that drove him over the edge, the way she smelled, the way she tasted. He had trouble putting it into words. Every single thing she did drove him crazy in the most sexual way possible and he loved it.

A soft, confident knock--three strikes exactly--on his office door brought him back to reality.

"Enter!" he called, voice steadier than he felt.

The door opened and Olivia stepped in like she owned the goddamn building. She closed the heavy wooden door with a deliberate click, her back pressed to it. She flipped the lock and waited. The sound hit him like a gunshot in the now-silent room. They just stared at each other like two gunslingers from the old west. Olivia enjoyed the look of panic on Michael's face. Michael enjoyed the look of Olivia in front of him. His manhood started rising to attention.

Olivia was dressed like the sexiest version of an executive you could imagine. She wore a tailored black pinstripe women's suit. The straight-leg pants hugged her hips and ass like they owed her money and ran all the way down to three-inch heels that evened out their heights. A crisp, tight white button-down shirt was accentuated by a black leather corset adorned with silver clasps down the middle. It stopped just below her full tits, cinching her waist into a perfect hourglass figure. A bold red tie hung between her breasts like an arrow pointing the way to a good time. The matching pinstripe suit coat hung open, framing everything. Her chestnut hair was pulled back in a sleek professional ponytail, with a few loose strands framing that gorgeous face. Her alluring brown eyes locked on his. Full crimson lips curved in that knowing, seductive smile. His pulse quickened.

She looked like she belonged equally in a boardroom or a bedroom built for debauchery. Not like the eighteen-year-old babysitter who helped tuck his kids in at night or played tea party with Emma.

"Olivia," Michael gasped. He shot to his feet so fast his leather chair rocketed back and slammed into the wall. His semi-hard dick struck the desk on the way up. "Ow, fuck!" He rubbed his bruised dick but realized how that looked, so he stopped. "What the fuck are you doing here? We had rules. I set them. On Tuesday, remember?" Michael stammered, his dick throbbing in more ways than one.

She didn't flinch. With natural confidence Olivia strutted up and around his desk, heels clicking on the hardwood, hips swaying with pure runway grace. The scent of her--patchouli, amber and florals--hit him. Chanel Coco Mademoiselle.Fuck. He'd bought a bottle of it for Alisa for their anniversary and she absolutely hated it, never wore it once. How the hell did Olivia know? Stopping three inches away, she looked at him with those wide, not-so-innocent eyes that were full of surprises.

"I remember them, Michael," she said softly, voice low enough not to carry through the walls. "You made them extremely clear, but you never said anything about here at work. Date night's not till tonight, so this is a, hmmm--technicality." Her hand slid up his chest, fingers tracing the knot of his tie. "But I know you." She glanced up into his eyes. "You've been hard since Tuesday thinking about how we've fucked--and where we'll fuck next. And--well," her voice took on a pouty tone, "I needed to see you. Just for a minute."

Michael grabbed her wrist, meaning to remind her who was in charge. His grip tightened as he pulled her closer. "A technicality? Really, Olivia? Someone could have seen you walk in. My assistant--"

"Relax, I told your secretary I'm from headquarters and I have something extremely sensitive that Michael needs to personally handle right away. Most urgent." She cut in smoothly. "No one batted an eye. Well, maybe a couple people," she added with a sly wink. "The door's locked now and it's just us." Her free hand dropped straight to the front of his slacks, palming the bulge that had been growing since she walked in. "And you're almost ready for me,Daddy." She said it sweetly.

That word landed like an atomic bomb. Michael groaned despite himself, his eyes fluttering shut as her hand massaged him. With his resolve destroyed he pulled her in and kissed her forcefully, backing her against the edge of his desk, tongue invading her mouth like he owned it. His hands slid up around her waist and grabbed her ass hard. Papers scattered over the edge of the desk, but Michael didn't care. And damn, that outfit was fucking hot.

He broke the kiss, breathing hard. "You know I want you. So fucking bad, but we can't. Not right now. Not here. It's date night--" He said it like it was some mystical holy night he couldn't possibly betray.

"You sure about thatDaddy? I could be your naughty secretary,Do you have any positions I could fill sir?. Or maybe your tough boss,I'm gonna need you to put in really long---hard hours tonight." Olivia's eyes sparkled with devilish delight. "How about I give you a performance review right here instead? If you pass, I have something to show you that'll make Tuesday feel like child's play."

She squatted right there on the office carpet, her ass hovering just off the floor, her feet planted, looking up at him with delicious mischief.

"Your assessment begins... now," she purred, voice low and filthy. Her fingers worked his zipper down, and his massive cock sprang free--heavy, thick and already leaking a fat, glistening bead of precum.

She didn't tease, not this time. Instead she slowly swallowed him all the way to the base, throat relaxing around him like she was made for him. Head thumping back against the wall, Michael's hand took hold of her sleek ponytail as she bobbed fast and sloppy, spit running down his cock onto his balls. This was not a gentle blowjob. This was throat fucking. This was that nasty sex, raw and dirty. Olivia made wet,gawk-gawk-gawk, absolutely obscene sounds that fueled Michael to fill her mouth and throat with his load.

"Fuck, Olivia," he grunted, hips twitching forward. She hummed around him, eyes watering but she never broke eye contact. He was almost there, mere seconds from flooding her throat when she pulled off with a wetpop, strings of saliva connecting her crimson lips to his glistening cockhead. A devilish smile played across her mouth.

"Mmmmm--Not yet Daddy," she whispered, voice husky. She stood, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "First I need to show you something important... trust me. It's going to change everything."

Michael's head was spinning. His meat was still throbbing.She's seriously not going to finish, Michael thought. Mind racing, he suddenly remembered Alisa was five blocks away, and the thought of her getting ready for their shitty date night made his stomach turn. He should have sent Olivia away. Instead he tucked his dick in his pants, straightened his tie, and grabbed his suit jacket.

"Fuck, Olivia, did you have to get me that hard without letting me finish?" he growled. "How the hell am I supposed to walk around pitching a tent like this?"

Olivia giggled, smiling with that wicked little gleam in her eye. "Come with me and I'll show you."

They left the building separately and met two blocks away around the corner. Michael's pulse still raced as they walked side by side, her heels clicking in rhythm with his dress shoes. She strutted, one hand in her pocket, the other swaying back and forth as they made their way downtown. Olivia turned heads everywhere they went--men and women alike openly staring as she passed. Michael attempted to keep up without looking obvious. The city buzzed around them--Friday lunch crowds, horns blaring, the smell of cooking food mixed with exhaust--but all he could focus on was the way those pinstripe pants hugged her ass and the memory of her throat working his cock.

"Where are we going?" he asked under his breath, glancing around. Alisa's building was getting closer. While she would never go in this direction--too gritty for her polished corporate world--the risk ate at him.

"You'll see," Olivia said. "It's private, perfect for what I have in mind for you."

Two blocks later she stopped in front of a plain black door between a coffee shop and a bookstore. A small, discreet plaque readLion's Den -- Members Only. Michael had walked this street for years and never noticed it.

"What's this?" he muttered. "Olivia--"

"Inside. Now." She pulled the door open and stepped in. Michael followed. The cool dimness, a sharp contrast to the bright street outside, wrapped around them like a shared secret. The air smelled of rich leather and warm amber.

Confusion swirled through Michael as they entered a sex shop. The place was nice: clean, refined, upscale--soft lighting, high-end toys, lingerie, and videos on tasteful shelves. The woman working the counter looked at them. "Hey, Olivia. Did you forget something?" Acting as if this was the most normal thing in the world, Olivia casually replied, "Just breaking him in, Ryan." A sultry smile played on her face as they crossed the room. Olivia led him straight past everything to a hallway in the back markedPrivate Viewing Rooms. She swiped a keycard--Where the hell did that come from?--and pushed open the door, leading Michael to the last room on the left.

The room was small but clean: color control lighting, a leather-clad bench along one wall, mirrors on the ceiling and one of the side walls, a flat screen on the other wall with options for movies you could select, and in the middle stood a padded platform. The most unusual feature: a perfectly round, six-to-eight-inch hole installed into the shared wall with the next room, sitting waist high. If you stooped down you could look right into the room next door.

Olivia locked the door behind them and turned, eyes gleaming.

"It's a private fuck room, Michael. Strip--now!" she demanded. While Michael quickly shrugged off his clothes and placed them onto the leather bench, Olivia continued matter-of-factly, "No-names and safe for discreet sexual activity. This one comes with a gloryhole for anonymous sex with a random partner. Today this is just for us. No one else should be here this early on a Friday afternoon." She stepped close, running her hands up his chest. "I wanted you to fuck me -- really fuck me -- and not worry about how much noise we make. Somewhere no one could interrupt and I could feel every inch of your giant cock without worrying about the kids, Alisa or anyone else disturbing us. Just you, me and whatever else you desire,Daddy."

Michael was inspecting the room and stopped at the word. He turned to look at her and she looked delicious. "Say that again," Michael said.

"Daddy?" Olivia asked. "DoesDaddylike it when I call him that?"

Michael's cock throbbed at the words. "You really are full of surprises," he said with a smile. The time for talking was now over. Michael pulled her in and kissed her hard, hands roaming over the pinstripe suit, popping buttons on her shirt until the red tie hung loose and her corset pushed those voluptuous tits up. He kissed them roughly, tongue circling her nipples hard and pulling them with his teeth. Running his hands over her plump ass, Michael settled at the bottom before giving it a firm squeeze. His mouth moved to her neck, tongue running over her throat and feeling her pulse racing. Whenever he hit a sensitive spot Olivia would moan out loud. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, fingers running through his hair, completely opening herself up to him. After several intense minutes of foreplay, Olivia was thirsting for more. "I'm ready to continue that review now," she said, stopping him. She dropped to her knees and pulled his dick out, ready for round two.

She took him straight to the back of her throat, his cock still slick from the office blowjob. Olivia worked him with wet, obscene, slurping sounds that echoed in the small room. Groaning deeply, Michael fisted her ponytail like a handle while his other hand braced against the wall beside the gloryhole.

Then, he heard it.

The adjacent door opened, muffled voices and laughter entered. A woman's excited voice--low, happy, painfully familiar.

Oh fuck, baby... I've been wet all week waiting for this. I want you to do that thing you did last month, that thing with your tongue.

Michael froze mid-thrust after hearing that voice. That exact husky tone Alisa used when she actually wanted sex--which hadn't been with him in over a year. His mind reeled at the information dump he'd just received.

Olivia slowed but continued sucking, eyes flicking up knowingly, like she'd expected this.

A deeper male voice answered,God, Alisa, your pussy is already soaked. Who's my dirty girl? Bend over the bench for me.

Smack!

The sharp sound of a bare hand cracking across flesh reverberated through the wall.

An icy sensation ran up Michael's back, its cold fingers seizing him by the neck. His vision tunneled and his pulse quickened. Raw fury and savage need ignited inside him, burning the chill away.

Alisa.

His wife. Not at her office. In a private sex room of an adult store with some random guy on their fucking date night. Cheating. The same woman who wore "no sex" sweats and sighed every time he touched her. Getting spanked.

Rage, betrayal, and raw, vicious hunger coursed through him. Olivia pulled his cock from her throat and whispered seductively while it rested against her swollen lips, "I know. I'll explain later, but here--now--fuck me like you own me, Michael. Show her what a real man sounds like when he takes what's his."

Next door the sounds of passion intensified. Clothes hit the floor and sloppy, loud kisses filled the air.Eat my moist cunt, you fucking animal!--words Michael hadn't ever heard from Alisa--as the guy eagerly obeyed.Yes, right there--fuck, your tongue is so good. Don't stop!

Alisa had always despised oral, giving or receiving. She used to say it was disgusting and only whores did it. "How can anyone put their mouth where body fluids come out? I'll never do that." Fucking Hypocrite.

Michael's hands shook with fury and need. He hauled Olivia up and spun her around, bent her over the padded platform in one rough motion. Olivia smiled as he took her forcefully. He yanked her pinstripe pants and soaked panties down to her ankles, exposing her bare, glistening pussy. She was eye level with the gloryhole and could see the action taking place in the next room.

He pushed his cock into her in one impaling thrust. Olivia cried out loud and shamelessly. "YesDaddy! Fuck!---Fuck me hard! I need it!"

Michael obliged.

He fucked her like he was trying to break through the wall with his dick. Every unforgiving thrust was harder and deeper than whatever that asshole was giving Alisa next door. Reaching around, Michael rubbed her swollen clit in tight, merciless circles, and felt her clench around him like a vice. His other hand clamped down forcefully on her shoulder, fingers digging into her flesh as he used it for maximum leverage--pinning her upper body down while he yanked her hips back onto his cock with every powerful drive. That grip let him push in even deeper, slamming into her with his full weight. He fucked her with a relentless hungry energy, never letting her recover from one orgasm before pushing for the next.

"God, your cock is so fucking big," Olivia gasped, voice carrying through the wall. "Fuck me better than he's ever fucked her!"

The sounds next door grew frantic after only a few minutes--amateurs. Skin slapping.I'm gonna cum--don't stop David!

David!

Michael froze at the name. Realization crashed into him. Alisa's cunt of a boss was named David. That smug, vegan prick had shown up at Michael's cookout last year, bitched about the burgers not being plant-based, and sneered at his Bronco for not being "eco-friendly." He routinely had Alisa working overtime late into the night.