Twelve

Oh Lord... What am I doing here when I should be eating a salad on my lunch break?

And by here I meant pressed up against the wall in a shower cubicle with a six-foot jock making out with my left sternocleidomastoid while I bit my own lip half to blood in an attempt to hold in any unsavoury sounds.

"Are you sure nobody's gonna come in here?" I asked as he sucked on the side of my neck.

"Don't worry, I'm the only one with the keys outside practice hours... Unless coach decides to drop by."

"What?"

"Relax," he chuckled, meeting my gaze. "Nobody's gonna come. Well... I guess I can't promise that," he said cheekily as he ran a hand over my obvious hard-on.

"Very funny," I rolled my eyes. "But like, are you sure you wanna keep doing this?"

He paused, eyeing me incredulously, "Jules, I'm literally more turned on around you than I've ever been in my entire life, like ever."

I stifled a smile as I ran my hands up his chest, "You sure about that? I haven't even done anything yet."

He looked down at me, eyes hooded and downright sinful, urging me to give him everything he wanted. Everything I wanted to give.

Our lips connected again, a little slower this time as I ran my hands up underneath his shirt, feeling his taut skin and defined abs. I could have counted them if I had half a mind to with his tongue in my mouth, but the guy obviously worked out. He grabbed my hips, pushing his own against me, the friction between us making me moan inadvertently.

"I love the sounds you make..." He whispered as he continued to rub himself up against me. "Makes me wanna fuck you senseless."

A delighted shiver went down my spine at the notion. "Are you sure you can handle that?" I challenged, gently biting his bottom lip.

He smirked, "Are you sure you can take it?"

I slipped my hand underneath his waistband, just enough to entice him but not fully touching him. He hissed, instinctively leaning into my touch.

"Like a champ," I muttered, slowly pumping his shaft. He placed his palm on the wall next to me for support, breathing heavily with his eyes closed. Grinning, I turned us around so he was against the wall instead.

I got on my knees in front of him, much like he did the day before, as I continued to pump him underneath his pants.

"Will you give it to me then?" I said, leaning against his thigh and blinking up at him, almost innocently.

"Fuck... Fuck yes, please."

Damn. Why is it so hot when he begs like that?

"Please what?"

I teased, slowly pulling his pants down. He grabbed the waistband and tugged it all the way down, letting his cock spring free just inches away from my face. Well... Although I did encounter it briefly the day before, I didn't exactly get the chance to fully appreciate it up close. I was literally salivating at that point. He grinned mischievously.

"Please... do whatever you like. I'm not picky."

I quirked a brow up at him, "So you wouldn't be disappointed if I didn't suck you off right now?"

"Not at all. Although I wouldn't be opposed to it..."

Honestly, neither am I.

Okay yes so maybe I'm a bit of a cockslut.

I soon realized his volume control was even worse than mine, the sounds of his moans and heavy breaths quickly filling the cramped space between us as I worked my magic. I licked at the flushed tip, working my way down his generous shaft to suck on his balls. His hand was soon entangled in the back of my head, gently tugging at my hair but ever so careful not to thrust into my mouth, allowing me to set the pace. Clearly I was doing a good job because within a few minutes, he was already nearing his climax.

He tugged at my hair, trying to pull me away, but I decided I wanted to treat him for being such a good boy. I grabbed both of his butt cheeks tightly, pulling him deeper into my mouth.

"Jules... I'm gonna cum. Let go."

I only held on tighter and eventually his hand was gripping my head again, pulling me closer, truly letting himself go and cumming down my throat with one deep thrust. I held in a gag as he froze for a few seconds, shakily coming down from his high.

"Shit," he panted, finally letting go and pulling me up. "You okay? Was I too rough?"

I rolled my eyes. You're too nice is what you are.

"I'm good," I wiped at my damp lips, knowing full well my face was probably pretty flushed and my eyes bloodshot. I wasn't complaining though.

He smiled boyishly before pulling me in for a soft kiss, a little too soft for my taste. Like, boyfriend soft. I bit into his bottom lip a little harshly, making him gasp and pull away.

"Ow," He rubbed his lip, before laughing softly, "That was really good. Like... The best head I've ever had."

"I guess the competition just really sucked or you're just really gay."

He chuckled a little stiffly, running a hand through his hair, "Maybe both... To be honest, I'm embarrassed about yesterday. I don't think I was very good at it."

I quirked a brow, "I mean... You weren't bad... It's not like you're out there sucking dick on the regular."

"Are you?" He asked, looking a little too serious for my liking. I cleared my throat.

"I'm... A little out of practice myself. I was wondering how you felt about it to be honest."

"About what? Sucking dick?"

I nodded.

"Well... I think I liked it. I liked that I was making you feel good. I liked it better than eating pussy... Yeah, definitely better than eating pussy." He nodded to himself in confirmation.

"I'm sure the ladies will be delighted to hear that," I snorted.

"I still love boobs," he said, a little too defensively. "I don't think I'll ever stop loving boobs."

"Right..." Figures. I glanced down at my own flat chest, "Wasn't planning on getting those silicon implants anytime soon but..."

"That's not what I... I really like your body, Jules. You wouldn't look good with boobs, anyway."

I rolled my eyes, dismissing the compliment although it made me a little flustered, "I'm gonna go now. You coming or...?"

"Yeah, yeah you go ahead first. I'll just pick up some stuff from my locker while I'm here."

I nodded slowly, "O-kay. I'll see you around then. Don't forget to... Pull up your pants or whatever."

"Right, I've got it covered," he chuckled, "See you around, Jules."

_

"This must be it," I muttered, shoving my phone into my back pocket and parking my bike outside the moderately-sized building. It looked more like a villa than a kindergarten, green lawn, picket fence and everything. I made my way past the playground and into the building, where the high-pitched voices of children instantly caught my attention. It was an empty reception, with hardwood floors and all manner of primary colours covering the turquoise walls. From the children's crayon drawings to the animal flashcards and the minions poster with the teeth-brushing tutorial, the interior décor left much to be desired. Mainly more black. Definitely more sadness. No, I'm not emo, I'm realistic.

Before I could wander too much, a nice-looking middle-aged woman in glasses coming from the hallway walked up to me with a smile.

"Hello, there. Are you here to pick somebody up?"

"Yeah, actually. I'm Julias, I'm here to get Anya."

"Right, Julias. The new nanny! Vincent told us you'd be coming today. Follow me please."

Ugh. Nanny.

I followed the nice lady into a classroom where many kids were already seated at their little tables, bags packed and waiting for their parents to pick them up. Most of them were chatting and playing with their toys, until I noticed Anya sitting off at the very end poking at her ugly bunny. And of course, she was still wearing that goddamn beret. I was starting to doubt I'd ever see the top of her head someday, not that I wanted to or even cared.

The lady went to alert Anya and when she looked up, her eyes instantly lit up and she jogged towards me.

"Julie!" She hugged my legs as per the usual and a few aww's sounded from the three teachers sitting in the room. I laughed awkwardly, patting her head awkwardly. Kind of like how you'd pat a dog.

"Yay, good to see you too. Come on, let's head home." Without me prompting said contact, she held my hand. Um, consent much? And then I had to physically remind myself she was five and it was probably better if I did hold her hand.

"You came so early! We just finished our math class!"

"Really? When does your dad usually come?"

"I don't know... But he usually keeps me waiting really really long. It's not his fault, he's soooo busy."

"Uh-huh. Well, good thing he has me now."

She gasped once she laid eyes on my bicycle. "Are we going home on that?!" She asked excitedly.

"Yeah, right." I scoffed.

"Yayyyyyyyyy!" She hopped around excitedly. Right, kids don't understand sarcasm, I forget.

"No, no. That's dangerous. No way. We are walking home. Come on."

Her tiny little lips formed a pout, eyes turning glossy in a split second. "Pretty pleeeeeeease?"

"Not gonna work with me, sweetheart. We're walking." I deadpanned, grabbing onto my bike handles and walking alongside it.

"I hate you." She sulked, stomping as she followed me along the sidewalk.

"Stay close. Here, I'm so nice that I'll let you touch my bike. Hold the seat and push with me."

She narrowed her little eyes at me, "That's not fun."

"If you do as I say I might give you a ride on it someday." Lies, I'm not gonna do that.

Her eyes brightened up again and she obediently held the seat. "Okay!"

"Great, let's go now, it's not too far."

We were walking in silence for about thirty seconds and just as I was getting hopeful she'd stay quiet the whole way home, I was proven wrong.

"So, how was school?"

"Excuse me?" I couldn't believe a five-year-old was trying to initiate small talk with me. Also, I briefly thought back to a certain locker room scene that was probably way too inappropriate to describe to said five-year-old.

"How was school? You know, classes and recess and all?"

"It was... Fine." I muttered, looking absentmindedly at the road before making a turn to the right. Anya was still obediently holding on to the bicycle seat, which was a pretty good alternative to having to hold the kid's sweaty hand myself. Kids are gross, they put their hands everywhere and don't know the first thing about hygiene or soap.

"What did you study today?"

"IT, Economics, Statistics, Marketing... Things you're surely very familiar with!" I said exasperatedly. Also classes were painfully boring to talk about.

She nodded slowly, "Do you also get a lot of homework? I get a lot of fun homework like drawing and colouring and counting and stuff! Do you also have those?"

"If writing a five-thousand-word essay about pitching a sale counts as fun homework then yeah I get a ton of those."

"Five thousand words! That's like...." Her eyes widened in concentration as she stared at her hand, "A thousand of my hands! But in words and not fingers!"

"Right..." Do kindergarten kids usually learn that level of multiplication at that age? "Fun, isn't it?"

"Ooh! Maybe I can help you with your homework! Daddy always helps me with my homework so maybe I can do the same for you!"

"What are you on, kid? Last time I checked, you're five and I'm like twenty. That's four of your hands but in years not fingers, for perspective."

"Four of my... hands... twenty..." She mumbled to herself, staring at her hand for another long minute before brightening up. "Ooh, you're good at counting too!"

"Huh..." I looked at her incredulously, wondering how she learned that weird hand technique for multiplication.

"Are you gonna cook for us again today?"

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just get you home first. Ooh, maybe it'll be faster if you stayed quiet the whole way there!"

I watched in amusement as she went totally silent at that, quickening her short-legged pace. Food was certainly an effective mechanism to shut her up, and fortunately for me, it was one I could easily make use of.

Maybe this babysitting gig won't be the absolute worst thing after all.

"So, do you have a girlfriend?"

I groaned. Or maybe not.