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— Originally published in Playguy
magazine - March, 1992 —
Don't
Tell Mom!
The
Babysitter's Gay!
_____
This is a
little embarrassing to admit, but even though I'm already eighteen, my
mom still thinks I need supervision whenever she and Dad spend an
evening away from home. I would die if any of my buddies from school
found out; none of them have to have chaperones when their folks are
away. But my situation's a little different.
About four years ago, my parents went on a ski holiday in Vermont and
left me in charge of taking care of my twin brothers Billy and Buster,
who were ten at the time. I guess Mom and Dad thought I could handle
these two little mischief-makers, since none of our relatives are fool
enough to take them in. Anyway, I got stuck with the Twin Terrors, who
poisoned the neighbors' dog, shot bee-bees at the milkman, and almost
burned down our house while lighting sparklers when Mom and Dad were
away.
Needless to say, that was the last time I was a trusted servant. The
twins are fourteen now, and more of a handful than ever. Even though I'm
en route to college, I guess my parents figured I could use some help on
the home front while they took a vacation. So they hired a college
student on summer break named Sven to be our "babysitter."
At first, I resented him completely. Why did our parents invite a
stranger into our home, especially a foreign exchange student from
Sweden who spoke fractured English? But Sven was built like an ice
hockey skater, tall and husky. His hands appeared to be goalie's mitts,
so wide was their stretch. And his long, powerful legs made the floor
shake as he walked.
Was I intimidated by him? Sure, but--truth be told--he turned me on a
whole fuckin' lot with those big blue eyes, shaggy blond hair and
ham-hock arms and legs. At eighteen, I'd sampled a little snatch, but I
was curious to try some dick, too — something else I could never tell my
buddies. Who knew what Sven was into, but I'd heard that Europeans were
a lot more open-minded about sex than Americans. Maybe having a
babysitter from Sweden for a couple of weeks would be a cultural
exchange I'd remember for the rest of my life!
Not surprisingly, the first day Mom and Dad were away, the twins tried
to see how far they could push Sven. Bedtime was supposed to be ten
o'clock for them, but Billy started bitching that his favorite TV show
didn't start until then and refused to go to sleep. Meanwhile, Buster
had snooped into Sven's personal belongings and found a real raunchy
magazine that had girls with guys, girls with girls, guys with guys and
some combinations I'd never even thought of before!
"I'm gonna tell Mom! I'm gonna tell Dad!" the twins began chanting as
they ran around the living room with Sven's magazine. "Sven is a
pervert. Sven is a pervert," they sang out.
"You are very naughty young men," Sven sternly said, his brow furrowed.
He was not in the least embarrassed with their discovery, only annoyed
at their obvious disregard for his personal property. "Ven I was your
age, my fadder vuld have sent me to my room for stealing his tings. Und
so I am going to do da same as he vuld. Get to your room now!"
The no-nonsense way he bellowed the last word "now!" made the hair on
the back of my neck stand up. Still, the twins held their ground, now
ripping out pages of the magazines and crumpling them up.
Sven's blue orbs grew wide, his nostrils flared and his teeth gnashed
like some vengeful comic book character come to life. I could tell the
shit was gonna hit the fan. With one powerful leap, Sven was on top of
Buster, who collapsed under him with a thud. Billy came to the aid of
his twin in distress, hopping on top of Sven' s massive back and
pounding him with his fists.
"Get off my brother, you stupid Swede!" he yelled. "Wait till my parents
hear about this!"
But before either twin could protest further, Sven had managed to get to
his feet and pick up Billy with one hand and Buster with the other,
holding them up by their collars the way I'd seen mother cats carrying
their kittens by the scruffs of their necks.
"Peter, help us!" they called out to me, flailing helplessly under the
blond Goliath. I just smiled and waited to see what the ever-inventive
Sven would do next. As if my prayers had been answered, he dragged one
into their shared bedroom, and one into my parents' bedroom, locking the
doors of each as he exited. Separated, the twins were less of a problem.
Their cries for help fell on our deaf ears.
"Wow!" I said when Sven returned to the living room. "That was really
impressive. Those two never listen to anyone."
"Vell, dey vill listen to me," he replied assuredly. Then he walked over
to where Buster and Billy had ravaged his magazine, picked it up and
examined the damage. "Und dis was my favorite too," he said sadly. "I
don't tink American magazines are so, how do you say, exciting, do you,
Peter?"
Since, I'd never seen many porno mags, European or American, my
points of reference were limited. But I didn't want Sven to think I was
completely naive, so I hunched my shoulders and walked over to where he
was holding the crinkled periodical out toward me. "Yeah," I agreed,
trying to sound as porn-savvy as possible, "this is definitely a lot
hotter than what you'd see in Playboy."
As I looked through the pages of the magazine, staring open-mouthed at
some of the outrageously graphic photographs, I felt Sven looking me
over and blushed. He stepped up behind me, looming over me by a good
foot and a half. "Vich pictures do you like da best, Peter?" he
inquired, his body pressing into my back and ass as he looked over my
shoulder.
"Gee, they're all pretty, uh, special." I heard my voice
quavering, my nervousness betraying me.
"Do you like dat vun?" he asked, pointing a gnarly finger at a photo of
two women clamped mouth-to-mouth on each other's pussy.
"That's nice," I said indifferently. He pressed up against me a little
closer. I thought I felt something long and hard rubbing at my butt.
"Vhat about dis vun?" he asked, turning the page and directing my
attention to two men stuffing a pretty blonde woman's nether regions
with their boners.
"Yeah, that's better." Now, I was getting a little breathless. My knees
felt weak and my cock was leaving a wet spot in my underwear.
"Und how about dis?" Sven had thumbed to the back of the magazine, where
page after page was devoted to really pumped-up young guys with long,
hard clicks. My mouth went dry as I examined them in the throes of
ecstasy, cocks thrust down each other's throats and asses, tongues
buried deep in butt cheeks hard as marble. Words escaped me, but body
language didn't. As Sven reached over my shoulder to turn the pages with
one hand, his other one snaked inside my shirt and pinched one of my
nipples. "Mmm," was all I could say, but my dick was rigid and my ass
began grinding back against his battering ram. "Do not say anything," he
murmured in my ear. "Just do as I tell you." Suddenly, he dropped the
magazine and picked me up as effortlessly as he'd done with the twins.
The room spun around me and the next thing I knew I was on the sofa with
Sven on top of me, kissing me with his thick, juicy lips and insistent
tongue. Those goalie's mitt-hands were stripping me at the same time
while my back arched up to meet his dry-humping hips .
"Dat's it, Peter ... Sven's going to show you vhat sex vid men is all
about."
"What about the twins?" I managed to blurt out.
"Do not vorry about dem. Be qviet und da TV vill cover up da noise."
Those words, as I recall, were the last spoken between us until we
finished our "sex vid men." Every other sound was grunts and groans
while L.A. Law played in the background with the volume turned up
high.
As Sven had instructed, I let him lead me through my paces. Once we were
naked, he let me stare in awe at his beautifully proportioned body. He
flexed unabashedly for me, his biceps, his quadriceps, his pecs ... he
even bent over, spread his cheeks and clenched and unclenched his pretty
pink asshole for me, tickling it provocatively with the tip of his
middle finger.
Saliva was dripping from my mouth. He turned around and fisted his cock
in the direction of my mouth. Its length and width frightened me; there
was no way I could accommodate anything that big. But before I could
back out, he took my head in his hands and hoisted my face up to his
cock-head. I opened my mouth and it slipped in like a salty lollipop.
In and out, in and out, he stroked my mouth with his pecker. Every time
he thrust in, he sought to plow deeper into my throat, until I could
feel his pubic hair brushing against my lips.
Once he was satisfied that I could deep-throat him, Sven pulled his
spit-slick rod out of my mouth and sat down next to me on the sofa. Now
what? I wondered.
He pushed me to a standing position, and turned me around so that I was
no longer facing him. I felt one of his fingers on my butthole. Then it
wiggled itself in up to the second knuckle.
The invader didn't feel so good in the beginning. But whenever I tried
to pull back away from it, Sven's other hand reached under my ball sack
to my cock and stroked me reassuringly. Almost reflexively I found
myself bending back and pushing my butt down harder on his finger.
Pretty soon he had two, then three, fingers sawing away, and I felt real
wet inside.
He abruptly pulled out and my hole felt empty and cold. His hands
circled my hips and yanked me down to where he was sitting. Since my
back was to him, I couldn't see what was happening. But I knew I was
about to get fucked for the first time--"cherry pickin,'" my buddies
called it.
Since my hole had been stretched but good by Sven's fingers, I hardly
flinched when I felt the crown of his cock bump against my little
rosebud. He moaned deeply as his hips thrust up just enough to insert
that crown into my ass. That I felt! I must have screamed, because he
smacked my ass and said something to me in Swedish that sounded like he
meant business.
Gradually, the pain went away and, like his fingers, I began to enjoy
the anal intrusion. This time my cries were of total arousal. But before
I could get too carried away, Sven stuffed some of his fat fingers into
my mouth to muffle my joyful cries.
Once he knew I was into it, Sven pushed me onto the floor on my knees
and positioned me rump-high. He straddled my ass and rode it a long,
long time, until I started to push back further and further onto his
dick. I buried my head in the carpet and wiggled my butt back to let him
know how good it felt.
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