Babysitting the Twins Again

Babysitting the Twins Again

I’ve known the twins, William and Robert, for a long time. Of course, everyone calls them Billy and Bobby. They call me Debbie. When I was 14 and they were 7, I first started to babysit for them. I’d bring over some games and crafts, and we’d have the most fun. When they started with cub scouts, I’d help them with their scouting activities. As they got a little older, I’d help them with their homework. I would also wrestle the two of them at the same time, but they were never a match for me, though they loved all the body contact. We got along so well, they wouldn’t want any other babysitter, and the money sure was a lot of help to me at that age. I was like a big sister to them. The mother was nice, and the father was quite tall and handsome. I had a bit of a crush on him and I think he liked me too, but he was the faithful type and I was the shy cautious type, so nothing ever came of that, but my fantasies were memorable and nice.

It came to an end when I went off to college four years ago on the other side of the country. I was 18 and they were 11. They seemed so sad to see me leave. I knew that they’d be OK. They wrote me silly love letters when I was at college. Billy was always sweet, and Bobby too, but he also had an adventurous and naughty side that sometimes came through in his writing. I, of course, wrote back in kind. I went to college at a top school and rowed for three years on the varsity team. At 6’0”, I became a proverbial Norse goddess. I had the perfect athletic body at 140 lbs with smooth skin, pert B-cup breasts and long golden hair. My code name on the team was “Black Mamba”. As one of the lighter female athletes on the team, I usually rowed in the bow seat, and we were pretty good.

I recently returned to my old hometown after graduating and I was planning to visit the twins when I heard the very sad news that their mother was just killed by a drunk driver on Memorial Day weekend. I dress in a black formal dress and go to the funeral. The boys have grown quite a bit. They are now typical 14 year-old teenagers, almost 15, but on the tall and thin side, and handsome like their father. They seem glad that I am here, but it is strange. The father and the boys seem so sad and lost. At the end of the service, I hug the twins noting that they were almost my height, and I also hug their father hard and say “Edward, if there’s anything I can do to help, just call”. I just put him on a first name basis for the first time.
“I think we’ll be OK” he replies.
The twins are dispirited and say very little. The spark just isn’t there this day.

It is two weeks later when I get a call from Edward.
“Debbie?”
“Yes. Hi.”
“I need to go out of town this weekend and I’m a little worried about the twins. They’re old enough to stay home without a babysitter, but they seem a bit lost and I think they may need help getting back on track after their mother left… umm died. Could you babysit for them again?”
There is a pause.
“Maybe you could bring over some of your games and things, perhaps cheer them up and maybe help them with their homework and help them study for their finals. I really value your skills as a tutor and I know how well you did at college. I can pay you what you are worth. It would mean a lot to all of us.”
I pause and think for a minute. There’s more silence on the line. With both trepidation and enthusiasm, I give up my weekend plans and say “Yes. ok.”

On Friday afternoon, I fill a box with assorted junk and old games hoping to find something the twins might like. I laugh when I put in that old Candyland game that I used to take to their house when they were only 7. They are a bit too old for that now! But who knows what fun we could have reliving old times. I also threw in a silly colored wig saying “Tonight I can be Queen Frostine again.” I pack an overnight bag with long button up pajamas and assorted clothing for the next day and a cute but modest red bikini for their pool, since summer was about to start and I hope that their pool is ready for swimming.

I arrive exactly on time, as the father is getting ready to depart. Edward hugs me and thanks me and says that he will see me tomorrow evening at about 11PM. He is really glad that I am there. I don’t ask for any details about his trip and none are offered other than when he expects to return. I thought he looked sad and lonesome and just needed to get away to clear his head. The boys are studying upstairs when I arrive, and I don’t disturb them. I just start to fix a really nice dinner. They have really good ingredients, and I am hoping to impress the boys with my cooking skills. They finally discover that I am there and keep me company and set the table as dinner becomes ready. They do a lot of talking about school and stuff, and I tell them of my stories of college, and rowing, and of my dreams and aspirations. Once or twice their mother is mentioned and an awkward silence ensues and maybe a tear or two, but we manage to get past that. There is a lot to catch up on, and dinner goes very well. I really like these boys.

After dinner, we decide to study together. (On a Friday night? Sure.) The twins are really good 9th grade students taking the best classes. Finals are coming up, so we spend two hours going over geometry and biology. They readily pick up on the concepts and they tell me that I do a much better job of explaining things than their boring old teachers. We cover a lot of material and need a break of sorts.

“Let’s take a break. What would you young men like to do?”
“How about wrestling us? Just like you used to…” queries Billy with excited eyes.
“Do you think you can still beat us? We’ve been practicing.” brags Bobby.
“Oh. I’m pretty sure I can easily handle either of you. Don’t forget that I am still in top condition.” I respond confidently showing my long arm muscles.
“I mean both of us at the same time, like we used to.” clarifies Bobby.
“I… I’m not sure… but I think that I still can.”
“We challenge you!” taunts Billy.
I am not sure this is such a great idea. Those boys are lighter than I am, but they are also loaded with hormones that they didn’t use to have, but I decide to play along fairly sure that I can maintain control of the situation.
“We’re going upstairs to put on our wrestling clothes.”
“I don’t have any wrestling clothes.”
“Didn’t you bring anything? How about shorts? You can borrow some of ours.”
“I don’t think your shorts will fit me. I did bring a bikini for the pool tomorrow. Maybe I could wear that.”
“Cool. That will be great!” enthuses Bobby.
“Yea. That’s perfect! See you on the mat in the basement.” echoes Billy.
I’m not sure why I offered to wrestle in my bikini. Right after I said it, I wished I hadn’t, but I’m not one to back down easily. So I drift off to the bathroom and change into my red bikini and put an X-large T-shirt over it all, just as I would at the beach.

By the time I get to the wrestling area in the basement, both boys are waiting for me with sheepish smiles. They seem disappointed that my body is still covered. Not much is said as we all step onto the large mat.
“Are you going to wrestle in that baggy T-shirt?”
“I’m modest and shy. Give me a minute.” I plead. I pull the T-shirt off and suffer their stares for a while. Becoming impatient, I grab Bobby and throw him to the mat. Before they can respond, I’ve also thrown Billy to the mat. They are not pleased.
“Hey. Tell us when you’re going to start.”
“Yea. This isn’t street fighting.” They admonish. Perhaps I was over the line, but I didn’t like the way they were staring at me. It seems that their egos are easily bruised.

So, we start properly. They are quick, but not very strong. It will be an even match. I grab Billy and drop him onto the mat, as Bobby wheels around and jumps onto my back, just as I am attacking Billy with the intent to pin him quickly. Bobby is in an awkward position on my back, and his hands seemed to grab at both of my breasts as handles. At first I think he is being out of line, but I realize that he really has few options if he doesn’t want to go flying. Bobby apologizes and blushes and quickly lets go. He now has no leverage with his hands, which are dangling free in front of my breasts. I take advantage of his embarrassment and quickly pin them both. No mercy. They look a little dejected. I guess they thought I would be easier to subdue. So, we start again. This time they are more cautious and are actually working together. They have me in various holds with their limbs all over me. My struggling at their holds seems to light them on fire. I feel two very hard little dicks poking me at various places through their pants as we thrash about. These guys are very horny and loving it. I don’t want this to be a sexual thing. I don’t want to be a tease. I don’t want to lead them on with any unattainable expectations or hopes. I always hated other girls that would tease. I will do as well as I can here. I eventually wiggle out of their holds and prevail again, defeating them as a pair.

I taunt them a bit and insult their manhood. Their egos are a bit bent, but they clearly love all the body contact. I wonder if they will revenge their bent egos on me in some twisted manner. I’m sure that with some more practice on their part, I’ll be at their mercy at this game. I should be careful what I start…

We go for a third round. They go for similar holds, but also now seem more willing to grab at my bikini top and bottom for additional leverage. This is new. With their new technique and their loss of fear, I expect to lose this time. They seem to be less restrained about where they put their arms and legs and there’s a lot more contact with my breasts. At one point there’s a leg and then a foot, and then even a hand rubbing by bikini bottoms at the point of my vagina. I push the hand away, but I certainly could feel it, and I’m also getting quite wet. I wonder if the boys know that they’re not the only ones with excess sexual energy. How much of the touching is accidental? I really don’t know, but they’re clearly trying to pin me now, and win. Their egos demand it. I am in an awkward position now. They are on opposite sides of me and each is pulling at my bikini top trying to twist me onto my back. My top is not designed for this sort of wrestling, and it suddenly fails at the point of my sternum just between the B-cups. About 200 milliseconds later my tits are flying free exposed to cool air for both to see. They stick right out with no discernable drooping and my nipples are both somewhat erect. They both quickly notice and stop wrestling, but they don’t let go of me either. It’s like they’ve been stunned. But I’m still being held by the two of them and Billy’s mouth is about 4 inches from my left breast and Bobby’s hand is about 6 inches from my right breast. Bobby dares to touch my nipple. Billy watches, then hesitates and then suddenly places a small kiss my left breast. That’s not like him. He’s usually the more reserved of the two. The feeling on my chest is electrical. I am so aroused. I could so easily give in to them and they would both fuck me senseless right here and now on the mat. I am getting seriously wet. Is this what I want? Is this the relationship I want to have with these boys? No. They are just too young. I could get into serious trouble and get my face plastered all over the internet as just another sorry-ass cute female sex offender and maybe even go to jail. I am taking too much time thinking this through, so the boys are kissing me again. This time both of my nipples are in a mouth! It feels great, but it must stop. “OK. OK. That’s enough. LET ME UP!” I insist. The boys capitulate and I am free.
“We didn’t do it on purpose.” pleads Bobby.
“You didn’t do WHAT on purpose? Those nipple kisses seemed rather intentional.”
“We didn’t break your top on purpose.” offers Billy pleadingly.
“Well, you don’t kiss a girl’s nipple without her permission!”
“Sorry. We’ve never kissed a nipple before.”
I should be more angry at them, but I’m not.
“Yea? OK. OK. All’s forgotten. Let’s go watch a movie or something.” I suggest.
“Maybe you can forget, but we’re going to clean up and take a shower… a cold shower.”
“I could use shower too.” I echo.
“You can use the one in Dad’s room… …”

We all go off to various showers. I’m guessing that there is masturbation in all three. There certainly is in mine… I suddenly feel a draft. Are they spying on me in the shower? Did they see me manipulating myself and hear me having an orgasm? I should have been quieter. By the time I dry my eyes and look up, there is no more draft and nothing to see. Perhaps it was just my imagination.

In the master bedroom, I dress in my button up pajamas and then put on a bathrobe. I look presentable enough. I take time to look around. It’s a very nice room with an elegant four-post California King-size bed with a very nice solid headboard. I think of tall Edward and my old fantasies invade my mind for a minute or two. After drying my hair a bit, I head to the family room and look through their DVD collection for something that might be interesting to watch with the boys. It’s mostly crappy kid stuff. Where’s the rest of the movies? We can’t watch this stuff.
“The good movies are in Dad’s room” speaks Bobby from behind me. It seems he read my mind.
“I didn’t see any movies there.” I protest.
“Look in the bottom drawer on the left side of the room.”
“Are you allowed to watch any of those?”
“Some of them. It’s not what you’re thinking”
So now I’m wondering what kind of movies are there.
“OK. Show me. I’m certainly not going to rummage through your fathers drawers.”
Bobby and I go and take a look. Sure enough, there’s a wide assortment of movies and on the far side there are some very explicit ones. I’m suddenly sure that these boys have more of a sexual education than I gave them credit for. I pick up the movie “V for Vendetta”.
“Have you seen this movie?”
“No. But I’d like to.” said Billy. I was wondering if he was on the level with me.
“OK. V it is.”

They’ve got one of these ceiling mounted projection systems with an 8’ flat wall screen and a really nice surround sound system. This will be fun. I select a nice bottle of pinot gris for me, and some soda for them and I make some popcorn for all of us. I turn off all the lights in the house except for the scatter from the large screen. We all settle into the soft couch, with me somehow getting stuck in the middle. How did that happen? Oh yea. I had to get everything ready. So, the three of us are sitting under a large comforter with popcorn and the movie starts. I get a little warm, so I open my bathrobe and undo my top two buttons on my pajama top. It’s a little disconcerting since the boys are watching me do this instead of the movie. The boys become entranced with the movie. The popcorn is quickly finished. I sip my glass of wine slowly, but notice that my glass doesn’t seem to get empty. When the scene comes on of the girl tied with arms stretched above her, and helpless, and being tortured, both boys groan and squirm a bit and then they both lean into me. I put an arm around each of them and they nuzzle in closer into my bathrobe. The symmetry keeps me from falling over with equal pressure from both sides. I’m soon having trouble keeping awake. I know I should retire to bed, but I’m so comfortable here. It seems that I drank almost the entire bottle (how did that happen?), and I’m warm and I am tired and I’m in my pajamas with two cute boys pressing me. I am falling asleep…

When I wake, the sun is shining in the window and I am still sleeping on the couch with the large comforter over me. I’ve really got to pee. When I jump up, my pajama bottoms start to slide off me. Is seems that all 4 buttons have become undone. At least my pajama top is all buttoned up. But wait… All the buttons are somehow off register. Did I button them incorrectly last night? I don’t think so. I smile thinking “boys will be boys”. I wonder exactly how far they went last night while I was sleeping. At least there’s nothing oozing out of me that shouldn’t be… something like that would surely wake me. In the bathroom, I noticed two encrustations of sorts under my pajama top, one on my left side (Billy?), and another on my right breast (Bobby?). It looks like a bad cleanup job. I wish that I had been awake to watch this. What should I say? This was just too obvious. Did they want me to know? Do they think I’m stupid? I decide to say nothing and act normally and see what transpires. I shower and wash off the gooey mess.

I start to make a nice breakfast, and with the smell of sausages in the house, the boys soon materialize. We have a really nice breakfast, but the boys are somewhat quiet.
“Did you enjoy the rest of the movie?