I'm Not Going to Ask

Melanie was baby-sitting for the Ford's on a Friday night. She had arrived at their place and was walking towards the front door when she heard her name mentioned. Everyone stops to listen when they hear themselves mentioned. Melanie was no different. She paused where she was.

Mr & Mrs Ford were discussing her, their voices floating through an open window. Mr Ford was saying that he'd liked the way she'd filled out over the last couple of years. Melanie smiled at this. She'd been a late developer. At sixteen she'd had the tiniest boobs around. Now, a bare two years later, she was remarkably well-endowed.

Melanie lost her smile at the next comment.

"I wouldn't mind taking that girl to bed for a bit of fun," continued Mr Ford. "Save you having to put up with my attentions all the time."

Melanie heard Mrs Ford laugh.

"You can go for it with my blessing," she said calmly. "I'd give a hundred bucks to hear you trying to proposition a nice girl like that."

"Thanks for the blessing but save your money," returned Mr Ford. "You know damn well I'm not going to ask her."

"And thank god for that," thought Melanie. "Fancy having to dodge a proposition from an older man like him. I'd die of embarrassment."

She hurried on to the door and rang the bell, trying to put the snippet of conversation out of her mind. Shortly after that Melanie was greeting her charges for the evening while Mr & Mrs Ford retired to finish getting ready for their night out.

As Melanie saw the Ford's leave she couldn't help but notice Mr Ford. He was a big solid man, not fat but beefy, with quite a bit of muscle.

"It was a pity," mused Melanie, "that he's so old. Thirty at least. Otherwise I might have been tempted."

It was a relatively easy night for Melanie. The children behaved relatively well and after being put to bed for the fourth time they actually stayed there and went to sleep. Melanie had then settled down to watch some TV. She was in that shadow area, neither asleep nor fully awake, when the Ford's finally returned.

When the Ford's entered the lounge room they found Melanie on the couch, sitting up with the TV on, but nearly asleep. Mr Ford flashed his wife a smirk and walked quietly over to Melanie. Her T-shirt had come adrift from her jeans, showing a strip of midriff. Mr Ford took hold of the t-shirt and started lifting it easily upwards. Half-asleep, Melanie automatically lifted her arms when told to do so, and Mr Ford whisked the t-shirt off.

The t-shirt being drawn over her head was enough to snap Melanie out of her doziness. Her eyes blinked, she registered what had happened and leapt to her feet.

"What do you think you're doing?" she cried, shocked at the liberty taken.

She was even more shocked when she felt Mrs Ford's hands swiftly undoing her bra. Frantically she clutched the bra against her breasts.

"Stop it. Have you both gone mad?" she half-shrieked.

In answer to her question, Mr Ford reached down and started undoing the catch on her jeans. With a squeal she dropped her hands down to prevent him, realising too late what she'd done as her bra promptly fell away from her breasts.

Melanie tried to push Mr Ford's hands away with one hand while at the same time trying to pull her bra back up into place. She squealed again as Mrs Ford took hold of her arms at the elbows, pulling them back and holding her.

Protesting bitterly, Melanie tried to struggle as Mr Ford unzipped her jeans and started pulling them down.

"What do you think you're playing at?" she wanted to know, demanding answers angrily.

Her questions were ignored, Mr Ford concentrating on removing her jeans. For a few moments Melanie almost felt vindicated for choosing such tight jeans. Mr Ford was having a devil of a time getting them down. She knew how he must be feeling because she'd cursed them a few times herself when struggling in and out of them.

Like Melanie, Mr Ford found that perseverance was the key to the problem. Slowly but surely he peeled the jeans down. Also like Melanie, he found that he needed to remove her boots first or the jeans would not come off.

"You might have warned me that the boots have to come first," he grumbled to Melanie, hitching the jeans back up slightly so he could work on the boots.

With the boots out of the way it wasn't long before the jeans followed, leaving Melanie standing there in a nice little pair of lacy panties and a foul temper.

With a flick of his finger Mr Ford indicated to his wife to step back and she did so, releasing Melanie's arms.

Melanie promptly clasped her arms across her breasts.

"And just what was this little effort in aid of?" she demanded, scarlet faced.

Again she found herself being ignored as Mr Ford quickly stripped. It seemed only moments before she was seeing him nude and ready for some fun and games. She gulped as she looked at him, knowing why Mrs Ford was quite happy to have a break from his attentions. His 'attentions' looked to be awfully large to Melanie.

Moving swiftly, Mr Ford sat on the couch, catching Melanie's arm at the same time and dragging her across his knee. Holding her firmly across his lap he proceeded to peel off her panties, and then ran his hand up her legs, over her mound and coming to rest on her bottom.

Melanie was acutely aware of Mr Ford's erection pressing against her side. She was also aware of the hand stroking her bottom, and her bottom tried to cringe away from his touch. She lay there, trembling slightly, knowing that at any second he was going to slide his hand back down over her mound and touch her there. She tried to press her legs together, suspecting that it wouldn't help for long.

Feeling Mr Ford lift his hand Melanie tensed, waiting for him to try to force her legs apart. What happened came as a shock.

Melanie squealed as Mr Ford delivered a hard spank to her bottom, followed quickly by a second.

"Stop. What are you doing?" Melanie wailed in some distress. An assault she had been expecting, but not this sort.

"I'm spanking you, Melanie," came the dry reply. "What does it feel like?"

"But why?" Melanie couldn't understand what was going on.

"Um, because I want to," came the reply and the spanking resumed.

Despite wriggling and kicking, Melanie was held fast, the spanking continuing at a brisk pace. Melanie was near tears, her bottom smarting significantly, and she didn't know what to do.

When the first spank landed along her mound Melanie yowled and bucked. Her plan to keep her legs together had gone sadly astray once the spanking started and it was too late to try again. Swearing and wriggling, Melanie could do nothing to stop a series of spanks landing on her mound, agitating her pussy and stirring up the fires within.

When Mr Ford stopped spanking and started touching the relief actually caused Melanie to relax a little. His hand was rubbing along her mound, stroking along her slit, rubbing her mons hard and then moving back to slip between her lips and start probing inside her.

Melanie barely noticed when the hand holding her down moved around and took hold of a breast, stroking it and rubbing her nipple. She just stayed as she was, feeling what was being done to her, putting up no resistance.

Mr Ford could feel Melanie's acquiescence. Moving carefully he coaxed her to lie on the rug in front of the couch. Easing her legs further apart he knelt between them.

Melanie paled as she looked along her body to where Mr Ford was kneeling, his erection hovering above her. She wanted to shout and scream, jump up and run, but she just lay there, trembling slightly, waiting for what was to happen.

Mr Ford took one of her hands and placed it against her lower lips.

"Stretch nice and wide," he murmured, smiling with satisfaction as Melanie did so.

He reached for her other hand and brought it down to his erection, closing her hand over him. Then he waited.

Breathing hard, Melanie reluctantly drew Mr Ford's cock down and pressed it between her parted lips, holding it there. She saw Mr Ford give a satisfied nod and then she felt him driving forward.

Melanie started kicking her legs and squealing in protest from the moment Mr Ford started entering her. She wanted to make it clear that this was not her choice. She could hear Mrs Ford laughing in the background as her husband slowly drilled into her.

In Melanie's opinion, she was entitled to squeal and protest. She'd been jumped, spanked (that rankled -- it had been so unfair), and was now being ravished without so much as a 'may I?'. And ravished by a cock that was several sizes larger than what she was used to.

She could feel Mr Ford slowly pressing into her. God, could she feel it! It felt enormous. His cock was, she was certain, stretching her all out of shape. So she squealed and wriggled and kicked her legs, and felt cock sinking deeper in, not caring what she wanted.

Melanie groaned. She was already feeling as though she'd been completely taken over by Mr Ford's rampart cock. She could see (and feel) how far Mr Ford had penetrated her and she could see how much more there was to go. Too much, in her opinion. Fortunately, Mr Ford was taking his time, giving her a chance to adapt and accept him.

On it went. Squealing, kicking, and slow acceptance of an erection that never seemed to end. Finally, with one last push, Mr Ford slid fully home and Melanie fell silent, breathing hard. At least, she was on record as protesting her ravishment.

She lay there, pinned to the floor, feeling slightly smug that she had been able to take Mr Ford's full length without any great difficulty. Actually, it felt pretty good, and Melanie was quietly relishing the moment, eager for Mr Ford to get to work. Not that she intended admitting it.

Melanie felt Mr Ford slowly pulling back and waited expectantly. She pushed up eagerly to meet his plunging cock, at the same time squealing noisily.

"How can you do this to me?" she wailed, while at the same time her hips were busy humping upwards, neatly timing and meeting Mr Ford's powerful drives.

"This is so unfair," she squealed, taking him deep within her, clutching onto his cock as it slowly drew back for another plunge.

So it went, Melanie working her body hard to make sure she got her full measure of pleasure, protesting the entire time. Her complaints eventually tapered off into squeals and groans, Melanie hoping they'd be taken for squeals and moans of protest rather than the excitement they actually portrayed.

The action speeded up, but Melanie was equal to the task, matching every move that Mr Ford made. She was gasping hard now as they came together, sensing that the ending was coming fast.

"You'd better pull out soon," Melanie heard Mrs Ford say.

"Fuck that for a joke," she thought, her long legs coming up and clamping tight around Mr Ford.

She could almost smell his consternation to find her clinging to him, but he was too far gone to stop. She heard him shout, and then he was pumping madly into her. Melanie screamed her triumph, feeling his seed flooding her and screamed even louder as her own climax washed over her.

Slowly gathering her wits about her, Melanie could hear Mr & Mrs Ford arguing.

"I tried to pull out," he was protesting, "but she held me in place. After all her squealing I wasn't expecting it."

"But you weren't wearing any protection. How do you know if she's on the pill?"

Melanie was, but she had no intention of telling them that.

"I'm not," she interrupted them in a low voice, "and it's the wrong time of the month for me to have sex."

She enjoyed the consternation on their faces. Moving around, she gathered up her clothes.

"I'm having a shower," she told them. "Please have my pay ready when I come out. I don't think I'll want you to give me a lift home."

She could, Melanie thought smugly, stretch this out for quite a while. Bastards, the pair of them. Let them worry about whether she was pregnant or not. She deserved some fun out of it. More fun, she amended, thinking about the incredible sex she'd just had.

She would have to be careful though. If Mr Ford thought she was pregnant, he'd probably think it would be safe to jump her again. After all, she couldn't get more pregnant. She'd have to watch out for that.