Mr. D and the Babysitter Pt. 05

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


(For readers outside Australia, a few notes: University = College. Colleges are the residential halls attached to Universities. Mobile = Cell Phone.)

In ‘Mr D and the Babysitter’ I set the scene for this and other stores to come. The first four stories included Rachel, a beautiful young woman who, soon after her 18th birthday, moved in with Mr D and Sarah. Mr D’s wife, Debbie, had died tragically when Sarah was only five years old. Sarah was her daughter from a previous marriage but they treated each other as father and daughter, at least for this time. Firstly a live in babysitter Rachel became deeply involved with Mr D. Their exploration of each other included a sexy massage game which they explored with friends, leading to some amazing spin off relationships. Sadly, the relationship between Rachel and Mr D. didn’t last, as will be explained in this story. At the time of writing Sarah is now 12, nearly 13.


When Sarah’s teacher asked to see me I was not surprised. She had seemed to be very distracted lately. I had no sisters and the mysteries of the female body were still … a mystery to me in some ways. When girls my age were … that age … I was not that interested. They were just as annoying to me as I am sure I was to them.

Sarah was a brilliant student and I had no doubt that she would excel and get easily into University at the other end of secondary school. Now, though, her grades had been falling and whenever I asked what was going on I got screams telling me to stay out of her life followed by dark sullen silence. A mystery.

Sarah’s grade seven teacher was newly graduated from University with her teaching degree. She had only come to the school new this year and so I had not met her often. I had seen her at the group gatherings of parents and we had a ‘one to one’ parent teacher interview at the end of the first term. At that time everything had been going well and Karen, the teacher, was distracted with trying to deal with a few troublesome children in her class with little experience to draw on. Over time she would develop more skills and wisdom but in her first year she was floundering a bit.

We were well into the year and another parent teacher interview was scheduled in a few weeks’ time, but Karen sent me a text asking if we could meet sooner to talk about Sarah’s progress.

I had raised Sarah mostly on my own. I married her mother, Debbie, when Sarah was three. Two years later Debbie was killed in a car accident, leaving me with this beautiful girl who clung to me as the only constant in her life. Over the following two years Sarah began also to rely on Rachel, a teenager from next door who baby sat her while I worked. Soon after Rachel turned 18 her parents left Perth to go east. Rachel moved in with us and she and I got ‘involved’. Deeply intimately involved.

That was great for a couple of years then Rachel began to change. She had always been a bit wild but her Uni life seemed to take her into new paths. In particular it introduced her to drugs. I was horrified when I found out. The first time I confronted her about it Rachel was actually stoned and dismissed my concerns, telling me to “chill out.”

Yes I loved her. I had even been beginning to wonder if perhaps we might marry. She was only a few years younger than me. But the drug use affected her. She began to take less care of herself and less care of Sarah too. It was devastating to watch. Sarah adored Rachel and when Rachel began dismissing her and even spoke harshly to her Sarah was shocked to the core. Finally I confronted Rachel and said that either the drug use had to stop or she would have to leave. She was stoned again and told me to “fuck off” and called me a sad old fart.

Once she had come down from the high she did apologise but the damage had been done. Sarah had cried when treated so badly by Rachel and she cried even more when Rachel moved out. There was part of Sarah that still looked at Rachel as if she were the mother she barely remembered.

Over the next three years we bonded again, just the two of us, and we were close. I felt we were doing fine until this recent change in Sarah. Now I was the enemy and her school work was failing and I had no idea what to do.

Karen had agreed for me to meet her after work on the next Friday. Sarah was old enough for me to leave her at home for a while these days. For a short time at least. Even though it wasn’t really a social get together we arranged to meet at a bar nearby our house. I was surprised to find that it was Karen’s ‘local’ too and she lived just a couple of streets away from us. Perhaps not surprising really as Karen had come from interstate to study and now work in Perth and had no family here, so she had rented a place close to the school, which was at the end of our street.

When I arrived at the bar I didn’t recognise Karen at first. Dressed for school she had looked very ‘formal’, ‘contained’, even ‘boring’. I am single and I certainly am attracted to beautiful women, especially intelligent and lively women, AND with focussing on raising Sarah I had not taken şerifali escort many opportunities to date since Rachel moved out. There had been occasional opportunities but I was wary and very careful not to do something that might upset Sarah or potentially cause her harm. So I kept the occasional fling very discreet and the women who were wanted more drifted away again.

Karen had appeared ‘boring’ but the stunning brunette who turned and smiled at me as I approached was anything but boring! She was gorgeous. How could I not have noticed this before?! As if she could read my mind Karen said, the laughter bubbling in her voice “I expect you are wondering what I did with the schoolteacher?! I make sure that I keep my work life and private life very separate, you see. And so I dress there in ways which remind me to focus on my job and not encourage any other distractions.”

I wondered and so I asked “So why is this different. I thought that this was a meeting about Sarah?”

“Yes it is,” Karen said quickly. “But …” and she blushed “But I thought I would allow myself to relax a bit. When I come here I always dress as me, not as the teacher. And …” More blushing “And I thought I would like you to see me as I am really. Sorry. That sounds like I am hitting on you and desperate and … sorry Mr D. Should we do this another time. We could meet after school, at the school, if that would be better?”

I just smiled and said “What are you drinking?”

Relieved, she replied, “Riesling please. Skillogalee if they have it.”

“I haven’t heard of that one before but I will ask.” When I returned with two large glasses of the deeply coloured white wine I told her, “You are in luck. They had some. Clare Valley wine. Is that where you come from? I know you came here from interstate.”

“Looks like I am sprung. Yes I grew up near there in a little place called Penwortham. No one has ever heard of that though wine is an important part of the economy over here in the west so many people have at least heard of the Clare valley. This is my favourite Riesling, and not just because it comes from home!”

When I had a sip I had to agree with her. It was crisp and delicious! I usually preferred red wines but, to be sociable, I had got a glass for myself, a decision I was certainly not regretting. Not wanting to lose the connection by moving into the business of the ‘meeting’, and perhaps also because I was still so uncertain what to do about Sarah, I asked “So what made you move west?”

“That is a bit embarrassing. There was a guy I liked from school. I had always wanted to be a teacher and when he said that he was planning to come to Perth to study I applied here and was accepted. Of course once we both got here and I followed him up it didn’t work. We didn’t even really date and he went his way and I went mine. He got caught up in lots of the darker side of Uni and dropped out so I was glad we didn’t stay together!” Remembering Rachel I understood what she was saying.

“So now I am here, far away from home. I met some great friends at Uni and we go out together when we can. To be honest I am finding this first year really challenging. As the parent of one of my students perhaps I shouldn’t be telling you this but it hasn’t been easy!”

When I didn’t speak it was the right thing to do. Karen sensed, or decided at least, that she could trust me and began to pour out some of the troubles she had been having. Some of the boys were old enough that they were beginning to flex their sense of machismo. They defied her and played on her inexperience. Some of the girls were catty and they were almost as hard to handle. “I am not going to give up,” she almost sobbed. “I will not let them beat me. This is what I have always wanted to do and I will get through!” Karen shook herself a little to bring herself together.

“I hope Sarah has not been mean or disrespected you at all!” He was horrified at the thought.

“No, no, not at all. Actually, until the last couple of months she was the best and most helpful student in the class!”

“Good.” Then, to try to work towards what they were here to discuss he asked “Do you have any idea what has changed in the past couple of months? Why has she become as she is now?”

“I have some ideas but I need to ask some questions. And it is also quite personal. We are both wanting to help Sarah I am sure so we need to talk about this.” After a pause Karen continued with a question which surprised me, though it should not have really. “Has Sarah begun having her periods?”

At first I am sure that I looked blank. Then I began to feel incredibly stupid. How old was she again? 12 nearly 13. Of course she would be making that change in her growth as a woman. How stupid was I?? “Um … this will sound stupid, even irresponsible … but I am not sure.” When Karen looked back strangely at me I tried to explain, though it is possible I just dug a bigger hole for myself. “Um … you see … I haven’t had much to do with … I hadn’t thought about that … it just hadn’t occurred silivri escort to me.”

“Surely you would have noticed if there was something that showed up in the washing or on her sheets?” I am sure that Karen was also embarrassed about this. Or perhaps not. Maybe it was easier for women to discuss these things but for guys it is not something we talk about, EVER if possible.

“Over the last couple of years Sarah had been helping more around the house, including a lot with the washing. She usually does her own, but sometimes I do it. Having said that I haven’t had any of her washing put out for me to do for a while … a couple of months maybe.” My mind was spinning. ‘Was that what was going on?’ The mystery continued. What an idiot I was. What a bad parent too!

“Sorry about the interrogation. My dad and I never had a conversation about periods either. I was remembering what I was like when I was Sarah’s age and how the world seemed to turn upside down and inside out for a while when my periods started.”

‘How was it that I was sitting here in a bar talking with this beautiful brunette about when her periods started?? No wonder John Gray says men and women are from different planets!!’ Of course I only thought these things and didn’t say them aloud. I am not THAT stupid.

“I was trying to work out what may be going on for Sarah and that seemed to me to be a possible explanation for her sudden changes in behaviour. I did ask some of my colleagues too what they knew about her.” For some reason Karen blushed again but then continued. “The teacher who had Karen in her class in grade 5 told me that you are a single parent.”

‘I remembered that teacher. Geraldine. Redhead. Very sexy and very married.’

“She also told me that you are really hot.” More blushing. “But that is not why I am here. I am here to see if we can work out how to help Sarah.”

Setting aside the mind-blowing thought that this 21 year old brunette with the long hair and great figure and what seemed to me to be amazingly full breasts seemed to be coming on to me … TRYING to set that thought aside, I dragged my focus back to Sarah. “I will have to try to talk to her. Ask her what is going on. To be honest though I don’t know quite where to start. Whenever I try to talk to her about anything these days I get screams and slammed doors. But,” trying to show that I was not a completely incompetent parent, “mostly we get along, at least we used to, so I am sure we will get through this somehow. You really think that this might explain all that has been happening?”

I kept my eyes fixed on Karen’s face. That wasn’t hard because she is quite beautiful. It did stop me from staring at her breasts though and imagining their shape under that dress. I am terrible. I know.

“Can I make a suggestion?” she asked.

“Sure. Can you help me know how to start that conversation?”

“Actually I was going to offer to talk to her myself. It must be so hard not having Sarah’s mum around, or any other woman in the family close who could talk to her about women’s things like this. I am sure that you have done a great job as a parent. Really. Until this blip I could see that she was a bright, bubbly, well balanced, open and positive young woman.”

Several things registered. First, I don’t think that these compliments were just to try to butter me up. I am sure that she meant them. Second, Sarah is a young woman. She is not a little girl any longer. She is a young woman and she is growing up. I really am thick, I know. The other thing that registered was relief. ‘This would help. It had to. Perhaps after an initial conversation Sarah and I could then talk. Talking with my little girl, sorry ‘young woman’, about her … body … things like that … ok I could do it. Maybe after a couple of glasses of red wine.’

“Thank you Karen. That would be a great help. Thank you. Um … when do you think you might be available? Should I come and meet you at school at the end of a day and you could talk to Sarah and then I could take her home and try to work out where we go from there?” Clearly I was struggling still.

“Actually, I was wondering, why not now?”


“Yes. We can finish this drink,” (it was our second glass each), “then we could go back and talk to Sarah, then I can go home and leave you two to talk. How would that work? As my dad always says ‘no time like the present!'”

I liked that saying too, when I wasn’t facing something which, to be honest, scared me witless. “Ok. That will work. But I was going to grab some Chinese for dinner. Why don’t you come and talk to Sarah then join us?” I wanted to have some chance to keep other parts of this connection going. No time like the present, as her dad said!

“Possibly. How about this. We can get the Chinese food and go back and I can talk to Sarah. If that goes well and if SHE feels comfortable then I can stay for dinner. If it goes badly and she is really upset then I will leave and you will have extra leftovers. Ok?”

“It’s a deal!” I tried not şirinevler escort to throw back the rest of my wine in one gulp and instead just drank it as we talked a little more about the Clare valley, where it hade been produced, and what it was like growing up there. By the time we left I was more than a bit smitten by this lovely lady.

“Dad!” The cry as soon as I came through the door was not a loving greeting but anger and outrage. “Dad the washing machine is not working properly!” All this was shouted from the laundry after she had heard the door open. I heard the crash of the top of the washing machine being slammed down. “I don’t know why you don’t replace it. It is so old and it is always breaking down … oh.” The first part was shouted again but then Sarah, a dark cloud hovering over her head, walked into the room and saw Karen next to me. She was immediately shy and quiet.

“Good evening Miss Everet,” she said politely. Sarah’s eyes flashed at me though with the clear message ‘What is she doing here??’

“Good evening Sarah. Washing machines can be terrible, cant they! When I moved over here a friend let me have their old one and I was forever banging that lid down in frustration when it didn’t work! I don’t blame you at all for being upset.”

My first thought was ‘they are ganging up on me?’ Then I realised that Karen was building rapport with Sarah, and it certainly seemed to work. Sarah visibly relaxed. Karen continued, “Can I come and have a look at what is going wrong? Maybe I can help.” More revelations. Karen was beautiful, wise and had practical skills. Ok I sound like a chauvinist. I was actually a little in awe already of this woman who I had barely known until about an hour ago!

As the two young women (this would take some getting used to!) walked slowly back towards the laundry I heard the first part of their conversation. Quietly, but with confidence, Sarah asked “Miss Everet, why are you here at our house?”

Karen honestly replied “I asked your dad if I could come over so that we could have a chat.” That ‘we’ was deliberately ambiguous. Karen having a chat with me or Miss Everet having a chat with Sarah? As I knew, both.

After a short time the sound of water flowing in the laundry showed that they had fixed whatever the problem was, but it was only about 45 minutes later that they both emerged. The first thing I saw was that Karen was smiling. Then I noticed that Sarah was too! She was smiling and she seemed, strangely, suddenly, a bit more like her old self!! Karen took the lead, “Sarah why don’t you clean up and I will help your dad to re-heat and prepare the Chinese food we bought for dinner.”

Once Sarah was gone, while we prepared to reheat the tubs of Chinese food (just as well we chose Chinese as reheating is not really a problem. Once. That did mean we should toss the rest and not keep it for left-overs, but I didn’t mind), Karen filled me in on what had happened.

“Well, the simple thing is that what I thought was right. Sarah ad her first period a couple of months ago then another about a month later. You may know,” (I didn’t but I wasn’t about to admit to my almost complete ignorance regarding menstruation) “that it can take a while for a young woman to settle into a regular pattern. What is also important was that she was scared.”

“Scared?” That made me stop what I was doing. “Why was she scared?”

“Sarah is a smart young woman. She did know what was happening but it was so overwhelming and she with everything happening in her body and her mind she felt like she was out of control. She started arguing with you and that got worse and she felt she couldn’t stop. Then she got scared for some reason that you would not want her any more?”

Now I was totally confused and worried too. “Why did she think that?” I had to sit on one of the stools at the kitchen bench. This was really disturbing.

“I hadn’t realised that Sarah is your step-daughter. Not that it matters. She did say she never knew her dad and that she barely remembered her mum either. She did say several times that you have been a wonderful dad to her. She said that she was scared because there was someone called Rachel who lived here who was important to both of you, I am not judging you by the way, just letting you know what Sarah told me, and when Rachel got mean and nasty and strange you made her go away. Now Sarah is worried that since she has become mean and nasty that you will make her go away too. I tried to reassure her that you do love her and in the end she seemed to calm down, but I think you need to talk with her some more.”

When Karen looked up she saw that I was crying. I felt like such an idiot again. And now I was making a fool of myself in front of this beautiful woman. Fuck. I quickly pulled myself together enough to explain. “I feel like an idiot. Sorry. Oh poor Sarah. Rachel was here with us for nearly three years. Yes there was a special bond between all of us. Rachel started looking after Sarah when she was 5 years old, when Debbie died. Debbie is Sarah’s mum. For a long time it was wonderful but then Rachel did get mean and nasty and strange. It was why I understood earlier when you were telling me about that guy at Uni getting into a darker place. Rachel got into drugs and she changed. For Sarah’s safety and because she would not stop I told Rachel that she had to leave. I couldn’t explain all of the reasons to Sarah at the time. Maybe I should have said more.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir cevap yazın