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love-toxin · 1 year

Note

Okay but Eddie being the babysitter for you and Steve! And getting thrown into the family because the two of you cannot keep your hands off of him. And he loves the love

ehe <33 i went a lil feral <333

cws: dilf!steve + milf!sunday school teacher!angelface, babysitter!eddie, age gap (38-40, and 22), fears of infidelity (but its resolved), masturbation, pillow humping, (a+v) fingering, throat fucking, ball worship, rimming, assplay, scent kink, angel has a cum kink, threesome, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praise kink, sub!eddie, dom!steve, switch!angel, fem reader.

word count: 8.8k (90% smut)

Edward is so, so cute.

You noticed his look at first--the aesthetic he's got going on is really quite something, with the ripped jeans, and the hair, and the....the rings on those long, thick fingers. He was a little off-putting at first because he wasn't transparently shy, more blunt than anything else as he introduced himself. He's not like some of the other young girls and boys you and your husband had sifted through, almost all of them preppy young teenagers or prepubescent middle schoolers looking for a crack at their first job.

Edward--Eddie, is a little older than that. Which some might find strange or untrustworthy, but he's only around twenty-two, so still young. They would find him uncouth for many other reasons anyways, so it's not really a bother--you and Steve wanted someone older, someone more mature and hopefully more responsible anyways, because you've been looking for a long-term sitter and the high schoolers you picked before....oh, Steve was not happy when you came home early and found them throwing a party in your house, while your son was fast asleep in his room.

On the other hand, your check-ins with Eddie over the last few months have been stellar. Not only has he managed to follow all your rules, but your son absolutely adores him. It's hard enough at your respective ages, with you at 38 and Steve hitting 40 this year, to wrangle a seven-year-old with his own agenda. But Casey has taken to Eddie like a bee to honey and he seems to have no trouble getting him through his daily routines. Toothbrushing, bedtime, and eating vegetables is like a dream when it's in Eddie's hands--the kid thinks he's a god, and Eddie's so thrilled whenever he can talk to your son about his hobbies, so it's a match made in heaven. He's even started reading The Hobbit to him before bedtime, and you can see the joy on Steve's face whenever his son climbs up into his lap and starts excitedly chattering to him about orcs, and dwarves, and dragons, and whatever else tickles his fancy. You're sure it's because he reminds him of Dustin in those moments, and it's just so sweet.

Of course, a couple moms and older ladies at your church meetings had expressed worry at first, discontent even with your choice of caretaker, but you've been quite happy to report nothing but solid results out of the young man over the last few months. Casey's even taken to asking if Eddie can come over and play when you're at home--"Mommy, call Eddie! You and daddy hafta go out, I wanna play dragons!"--so you would think their minds would quickly be changed. But not so.

"He's a fan of that heavy metal music, he can't be good with kids. What if he indoctrinates your son, or converts him? Besides, he deals drugs! You can't ignore that."

Their criticisms fly over your head with nothing to hold them down, and while the drugs do worry you a bit, you have nothing but pure faith in Eddie to keep any of those habits out of your house. He never even smells of smoke when he comes to babysit, and the one time you did catch a whiff of cigarettes when Steve called him in last minute, he apologized and offered to change his clothes as soon as he spotted your nose crinkling up. Such a sweet boy, how could you even try to be upset? Steve lent him an old polo and jeans, and the two of you got a good chuckle before you left at watching him shimmy around in those clothes that were so not his style. But he committed to it because he's just....Eddie. That's just how he is.

And you're not sure when you started thinking of him that way, as Eddie, and not just as your babysitter, but it certainly hasn't gone away on its own. At first it was just a fancy, a cheeky "oh, isn't he cute? I bet the girls love that hair." that you've heard from all manner of female gossip. Even being a Sunday school teacher you aren't immune to it, so you figured that fluttering of your heart when he calls you "Mrs. Harrington" would go away with time.

But it hasn't. And the fear has been growing--what's wrong with you, you've wondered? You've been with Steve for years, and not once have you ever been charmed by someone other than your husband, not to the extent of thinking about them when you're with him. Steve's always been the love of your life since you were eighteen, so what could have possibly changed in all those years? Is it a midlife crisis? Or are you just a terrible person for thinking about another man, a younger man, while you're next to your husband in bed?

It isn't until you start noticing things about Steve that you realize that you might not be the only one, and that it might not be just a you problem. At first it's subtle, a "Hey Eddie, you wanna stay for a drink?" after Casey's gone to bed and you've both arrived home from your date. Then you notice the looks he's giving him--the long, lingering stares when Eddie laughs or flips his hair over his shoulder, sometimes a flicker of a look when he bends over. And soon after that, you notice that he's getting further from Eddie. Steve's buying you more gifts, and your sex life ramps up dramatically; you go from two or three times a week to every night, Steve moaning into your ear that he loves you, he loves you so much, and that worries you even more. By then, has he already strayed? Are you watching his guilt unfold after he's broken the vows of your marriage?

Clearly that's not the case when you get some time alone with Eddie, though. It's quite obvious that he has no earthly idea of your feelings or of Steve's, and there isn't a single clue of some kind of secret affair that you can find. In some ways, you feel a little stupid for searching for one in the first place, because maybe you're just projecting your own guilt on to your poor, sweet husband.

That is until you catch Steve in the shower late at night, jerking off and moaning Eddie's name into his hand. If that isn't a tell, literally nothing could be. But it's a fortunate affair if not incredibly humiliating and shameful for your husband in the moment, shock and pain clear in his eyes when you pull the curtain back and catch him red-handed. It's adorable actually, seeing him so guilty and apologetic as he tries to tell you how much he loves you, and how he's so ashamed of himself but he doesn't know what to do--he certainly wasn't expecting you to admit your own feelings, nor for that humiliation to turn into lust as he pinned you to the shower wall and didn't let you down until the water ran cold.

After that, you came to a crossroads, and you both had to be honest with yourselves. Should you let him go? You both knew how desperately he needed the money, and you were sure it would devastate Casey not to have him around anymore, but how ethical would it be to be paying someone you both want to sleep with? What if your feelings leaked out and Eddie felt pressured to stay, or worse, felt he couldn't leave because of the money? It's such a difficult decision that you just had to leave it for a while, too wrapped up in your emotions to make a proper choice--you both just decided to keep things hidden for now, at least until you can find a better solution than firing him out of the blue for reasons beyond his control.

It doesn't stay that way, though. It certainly doesn't. Because now, you're living day to day with Eddie on your mind, and tonight's the night that you're not so sure it's completely one-sided anymore.

It's just barely past two am, and your key clicks so quietly in the lock that even you can barely hear it. You and Steve have been off on a couple's vacation for the weekend, but contrary to what you were hoping, you're both feeling more exhausted than refreshed. First, the hotel you'd booked months in advance had sold your room out from under you, and you were forced to find a much cheaper, much dingier one to sleep in at the last minute. Then Steve had his wallet stolen, and you spent the better part of your first vacation day calling people and looking around the resort for it. Then some drunk guy at the restaurant Steve had proposed to you in started harassing you, and the two of you were kicked out for Steve's less than delicate way of handling the situation, which was to clock the douchebag in the face after he called you a whore. And now you've just spent hours in traffic trying to get home early, so when you stumble into the front hallway of your home and kick your shoes off, you're so grateful you're ready to head right to bed and pass out.

"Hey, let's go tell Eddie he can go home, first." Steve whispers with a hand on your shoulder, aware and cautious of the fact that your son is definitely sleeping at this time of night. To top it all off, Eddie had called that first evening to tell you that your son had a fever and wasn't feeling well, as if your luck wasn't bad enough already.

"Let's pay him for the whole night, though. Give him a good tip for cleaning up Casey's puke."

"Of course. Aren't you so generous, Mrs. Harrington?" He chuckles, and with his loafers kicked off, he leans down and sweeps you right off your feet like you weigh nothing, and hurries on light feet up the stairs as if you're a bride again and he's rushing to toss you into your marriage bed. You pass by Casey's room and hear nothing, and Steve only lets you down when you reach the other side of the hall where the corner is, to peek into the guest bedroom that you've designated for Eddie. But when you do, and even when you flip on the light, you realize right away that he's not there--there's not even an inkling of a lump under the covers, which immediately flips your mind to worry after you've been on edge for the last three days. A reassurance is just about to fly off Steve's lips over your shoulder, something about how he might've gone for a walk, because his van was still parked in your driveway when you pulled in.

But as soon as you step back and pull the door closed, you hear it. Down the second hallway at the very end, where the master bedroom sits with the door firmly shut.

"Fuck..."

Your eyes both widen, and you share a look with your brown-eyed husband that screams pure shock. That was definitely Eddie. And that was absolutely, indisputably, without a doubt a moan.

Neither of you say a word, you're too nervous to even breathe, but Steve's features twist with anger before he can counteract it. You can both deal with your feelings about Eddie later, but having a stranger in your house while you're gone, and having sex? That's absolutely disrespectful, and you get why your husband is so flustered and stiff as he stalks down the hall towards the cream-coloured door. You follow close behind, like a rabbit on soft paws as you hurry to huddle up behind him--but just as he's grit his teeth and got his hand on the doorknob, you hear something else.

"Fuck...Mr. Harrington-"

His voice lilts, trills up to get a little louder, before his noises are muffled again--he must have clamped a hand over his mouth, but you're too caught up with the fact that your babysitter just moaned your husband's name. You can be sure now that your suspicions were wrong and that there isn't someone in there with him, because it's only his ragged breathing on the other side of the door....and you can hear the hard, sharp shuck shuck shuck of a soft, wet hand gripping the shaft of his cock, just like all those weeks ago when you caught Steve rubbing one out to the thought of Eddie in the same way. Your nails dig into Steve's baby blue golf shirt and it draws his attention down to you, the fury completely evaporated into a hot, red flush burning across his face.

In those strained few seconds, it's not your husband that opens the door. You reach past him and graze his hand as you do it yourself, carefully turning the knob and pushing it forward slowly enough that it doesn't make a sound. Relief washes over you.

Because otherwise, you wouldn't have got to see what's waiting for you in your own bed. Eddie's Iron Maiden t-shirt is rucked up, his pants and boxers in a heap on the floor, and he's hunched over your bed with one hand gripping something beneath him. You peek a little closer, and see that it's your pillow--your pillow, the one that lays on your side, pinned between his hairy thighs and cushioning his hard, rosy-tipped cock that's absolutely drenched in what you can only guess is his own spit and lube. There's clearly a big, damp patch on the dark blue fabric just beneath him, where you can see his balls squishing up against it every time he rocks into it, and...fuck. If you knew how often he had done this, you would've started humping your own pillow a lot sooner.

"Mr. Harrington, fuck--fuck, she feels so good..." Now it's your turn to warm up, Steve's hair tickling your cheek as he looks over your shoulder with just as much entrancement. You watch with bated breath as Eddie pounds your poor pillow into the bed, the hand he was muffling himself with finally spared to reach behind him and slowly work its way down--and you can't miss how slick his fingers are, his hips stopping for a moment or two so he can find the spot he's looking for. "S'gonna be okay, I can take it, I know you're big, I can take it,"

That cute, taut little rim slides open easily with the lube, but Eddie still moans and his hips kick up on instinct when he pushes a finger inside. It isn't until he starts bucking again that you finally notice the hand sliding down your ass, and your squeak of shock gets smothered by your husband's other hand as he claps it over your face, murmuring so quietly into your ear not to move as his fingers travel further. The flimsy sundress he convinced you to wear is obviously coming in handy for him, because your panties move easily and in moments, he's got two huge, hot fingers buried inside your cunt and your slick dripping all over his wrist.

"M-Mrs. Harrington--please, please let me cum, I'll be so good-" Eddie pants, completely oblivious to the squirming woman in the doorway and her husband's pants tenting as his cock strains for warmth. "I-I'll never cum in your panties again, I promise! I'll save all my cum for your pussy,"

You choke at that, and you're yanked back into your husband's chest with a hush and a stiff prodding into your lower back. Eddie's so far gone he doesn't notice though, and fortunate for you, because with Steve rubbing your clit as you listen to him call you baby you really aren't going to last long. Especially not when you can see when he hits his own hot spot inside, and buckles like he's just been shot, his face planting square into the sheets as he keeps working his fingers and humping your pillow with his cock leaking everywhere. He's close, so close, and so are you.

"Harder, please, you can be rough with me--you like it when I fuck her, Mr. Harrington? Like when I make your wife cum for me?" Steve only gets deeper, his tongue on your ear as he curls his fingers into that spot that blinds you with hot, white pleasure, and doesn't dare to stop right up until you're so hot it's burning--and then, when Eddie mumbles that next line to himself, it's the one that throws you right over the edge into ecstasy.

"Bet you and your wife love watching me rub one out, dontcha Mr. Harrington?"

He turns his head over his shoulder just in time to watch you crumble in your husband's strong arms, feet scrabbling for purchase on the hardwood as Steve fingers you right through your leg-shaking orgasm--and while you're writhing and whimpering into his hand, you're soaking the floor beneath you with enough clear, slick cum to run a mop clean through.

Eddie knew. Even if he was just guessing, he was definitely doing it for real--and while your head is still floaty and your body still reeling from cumming, Steve pulls his hand away from your cunt and locks the door behind him with the other, pushing you ahead to collapse into your bed next to Eddie. You can smell him, smell that hot musk of sweat and manly aroma, and if you weren't still trembling your mouth would be on his balls right now.

"About time I got to show you my nightly routine, Mrs. Harrington." He sighs, a content smile on his face despite the circumstances. He pulls the pillow out from under him and sets it next to you--and somehow he looks a little surprised when you grab it, and plunge your face into the exact spot where he'd been rubbing his cock all over it. Warm, wet, smelling of him....you flick your tongue out for a taste, and you're even happier to find that it's just as delicious as you imagined.

"Is this a joke?"

"You think I'd risk my best source of income for a joke?"

"Just checking. So you're a pervert." You feel the weight of Steve's body sinking the end of the mattress as he interrogates him, and when you pull the pillow away from your face, you're delighted to see that Eddie's sitting back with a flustered grin as your husband looms over him. Looks a lot more excited than scared, for sure.

"Only in the good way! Can I-" His hand grazes his cock, but Steve grabs his wrist and yanks it away. The other one, the one you know he was using to finger himself, gets grabbed too--but Steve brings those fingers to his lips, and slowly, intently sucks each one into his mouth without breaking their shared gaze. It's not until the last one gets sucked out with a pop that he finally makes his demands.

"Head over the bed. Lay on your back. Honey, can you give me a hand?" His voice turns so sweet when he talks to you, his soft eyes transfixed on the way you glide over the bed with ease. Eddie does exactly as he's told, and turns himself around so he's laid back with his head hanging off the edge, his curls reaching so far they nearly brush the floor. His fingers tremble and dig into the sheets when you get on top of him, but you don't straddle his cock and he whines. He won't have much room to do that again, though, not after you're finished unbuckling your husband's belt and coaxing that third leg he's hiding out from his underwear. He's already left a wet patch in the gray fabric, much like the one Eddie left on your pillow--you're just flush with gifts it seems, including the reward of watching your husband's cock bob out with that dark, flustered tip that stares you both in the face. Eddie sighs in awe, watching from his place with big, bright eyes, and licks his lips hungrily without knowing what's gonna come next.

"I'm not stopping if you gag. But if it hurts, hit my thigh." He leans down to whisper that part, and as you shimmy your way back down Eddie's torso to his lap, you smile to yourself. Your husband's a softie, always has been, always will be. As dominant as he is, he's always so sweet and doting when things need to wind down--or wind up.

"I won't," Eddie shakes his head, curls bouncing and his eyes never leaving the sight in front of him. He's in a trance, almost, watching Steve's cock twitch and hang so heavy for him, both with size and with age.

"I'm not asking you, Edward. I'm telling you. Hit. My. Thigh. You understand that?" Finally, he nods and chimes out a "Yes, sir" although your husband sighs regardless.

"Such a brat. Where do you young people get your attitude from?"

"Oh, honey. You sound like a grump! Cut the poor boy some slack--you're gonna do a good job for my hubby, right?" You speak softly, gently pulling his shirt up his chest until it's bunched around his collarbone. He seems to like that pool of arousal that you're leaking all over his belly, especially while you're perched over his happy trail and soaking his bush with your slick, since he's already trying to hump your bare cunt despite being nowhere close to it.

"Yes, ma'am." He rubs your hip affectionately, breath hitching as he leans up to watch you balance on your knees and angle yourself over him, to finally start letting his cock breach your slippery folds. "Y-You want a condom, Mrs. H?"

"No. This'll be a lesson in responsibility. You get my wife pregnant, you'll have to deal with it." Eddie looks back at him in shock, but he doesn't say a word. If anything, it shifts more towards excitement as he waits for you to move--and when you do, when you finally start sinking down on that pretty, girthy cock, Eddie cries out and writhes and grabs your waist for stability but he can't make you stop. You're too wet to try, and the stretch that fills you out when you reach the base....it's not better nor worse than your husband's, but it's different. And you just hope it's as good for Eddie as it is for you.

"How's that feel, sweetheart? Feel okay?" You coo, trying to ignore the delightful scrape of unkempt, wiry hairs against your oversensitive clit. It's even more difficult to keep that pleasure at bay when Eddie's throbbing uncontrollably inside you, and your husband is sweetly, tentatively stroking himself off over Eddie's head as he watches the show.

"F-Fuck my mouth, Mr. H," He suddenly pipes up, reaching back to grab Steve's hips and tug him closer, so his cock is barely a centimetre off his face. "Shut me up before I say something--s-stupid!"

Whatever he's thinking about saying, Steve obviously has the patience to wait to hear it--because he wastes no time in pulling back and aligning his tip with Eddie's parted lips, one hand guiding himself and the other holding his jaw to keep him open as he slowly, carefully works himself inside. Every time Eddie jolts, your hips buck and it stimulates him even more, every inch sinking deeper and deeper until he's whimpering around the obvious bulge of Steve's cock nestled in his throat. It's such a pretty sight, his chest heaving for air and his nose nudging at Steve's heavy balls, spit trailing from his straining lips up his face--and Eddie's taking it so well, you can tell even Steve is pleased to see how trained his throat is to take him already.

"You practiced, huh? You were a good boy and practiced for me?" Eddie's eyes roll back into his head at the praise, and the thought of lazily stroking your clit in the interim is blasted away when he starts throwing his hips into a harsh rhythm. Like he's suddenly been possessed by his own lust, Eddie fucks into you with wild and reckless abandon, and doesn't bother trying to muffle his own choking and gagging noises as Steve starts humping his mouth in tandem. "You like being praised? You want more? Then make me cum."

You can tell by the sounds and the humming from Eddie that he would absolutely be running his mouth if he could, although it dies down into whines and deep, rumbly moans as you ride him harder and pay no mind to how he's losing steam. Honestly, you are too, even though the feeling is just indescribable--so you compromise by laying yourself down on his chest, tits squished up against his pecs and your hips laid flat for easier access, plus an opportunity for Eddie to bring his hands up and grab tight fistfuls of your ass that seem to spur his thrusts on even more. Having yourselves lined up only a few centimetres apart doesn't take away from the adrenaline at all--it just gives him an easier time of rapid-fire bucking into you like two rabbits in mating season.

On the other hand, Steve is taking zero liberties with him. He huffs and reminds him of the stopping rule even though he's in the midst of pummeling his poor throat into oblivion, but when he pulls completely out to allow him some breathing room, Eddie's sticky, flushed face twists with want and he sticks that pretty pink tongue out to coax him back inside. Clearly he's victorious in that sense--Steve's balls smush right up against his nose as he slides back in, tightening up against him when Eddie makes a loud show of slurping him up like he's some kind of dessert. His poor adam's apple is being abused with every dip into his throat though, and with a hazy giggle, you reach up and lick that spot that keeps showing the outline of your husband's cock--and you don't expect him to push down on the back of your head to shove you into it, Eddie squealing and panting with pleasure at the strange sensation of you sucking on your husband's dick through his own flesh.

"So fucking good," Steve pants, breaking his no cursing rule for the moment to look down on you both with reverence. "Sucking me off so good. My angels, you look so pretty down there."

He tugs you back up by the hair, peering around you to watch the mesmerizing jiggle of your ass as Eddie grinds into you and smirking at the sight. Now both of your faces are smeared with your own saliva, and he happily gives you more as he spits into your slackened mouth and watches it dribble down your chin to splatter against Eddie's flushed skin.

"Such a fucking soft tongue too, christ," Your husband groans, drawing your attention back to the pretty boy beneath you that's spasming and choking back on him. "Want me to pay you to warm my balls for me? Bet you'd do it for free. Just wanna have em in your mouth no matter what."

Just for show, he manages to extract himself from those warm, wet confines and moves his hips a little higher, so his musky scent overwhelms your babysitter's face as he rests his sack right on his panting lips. Eddie's honestly so admirable--he doesn't waste any time in sucking on them, his tongue flicking out to taste each one before he pulls them into his mouth independently. If you weren't married, you'd be worried that he'd show you up for Steve's affections, but your husband clearly knows his priorities as he pulls you up to kiss you firmly on the lips. You can taste each other's sweat on your tongues, and when he moves back his hand shifts to cup your chin with a smile and an affectionate rub. And just like that, he snaps back into dominant mode.

"I'd pay you to creampie this tight little throat too, but you're gonna take it anyways cause you're such a dirty boy for me." A shudder runs through him as Eddie moans around his balls, contently devouring them with his tongue and totally lost in the taste of his musk and sweat from the long day--you can definitely relate to that feeling, because something about Steve's smell just makes him irresistible. His treat is soon pulled away with a grunt, but he's not left wanting for very long when you watch Steve stuff himself right back down his throat, like he's returning to where he belongs. The show is gearing up for its finale and you're pretty glad that Steve's already made a mess of you once, because it's been easier to stave off the next orgasm that you know is coming soon--just as long as Eddie keeps rolling his hips into you like a mindless, youthfully horny sex machine. "And you're gonna get my sloppy seconds when you blow your load in my wife. Gonna make you lick it all up and--and get her all clean for me to breed agai-nnnnh, fuck, fuck!"

Steve's dirty thoughts taper off into throaty, husky moans, his hands coming down hard to pin Eddie's shoulders to the bed so he can't squirm off--but if anything he's edging closer, squeaking and humming with moans as Steve loses his composure and brutalizes that poor, pretty neck as he chases the last few seconds of orgasm. Just to top it off, you make sure to grind your hips down against Eddie to meet his thrusts as he does so, crooning out praise after praise when he digs his nails into your waist and shakes with boundless pleasure as Steve floods his belly with cum straight from the source. If he's trying not to cum in you, he's gonna lose--and now you're close enough that you don't care, you just want it, you're losing yourself in the fantasy of being a cumdump just like Steve's always entertaining for you. When you're so close you can feel it coming on too hard to stop it, and your husband pulls out with little regard to the streams of cum that spurt out and paint Eddie's beet-red face, tilting his head up so they can both watch you come apart on top of him. His honey-brown doe eyes widen with awe as he watches you use him for your own pleasure, unashamedly grinding your clit into his bush to get that delicious pleasure you crave--and with Steve's encouragement, "C'mon honey, show Eddie how pretty you look when you cum" the room blots out and you witness nothing but Eddie's concaving stomach as you push him into his own orgasm.

It's hard to tell where you start and Eddie ends, whose fluids are churning up inside you and spilling all over his lap like a man-made puddle, but nothing in those moments matter. All that matters is the rolling waves of tingling ecstasy that wash over you one at a time, accompanied by the feeling of Eddie's nuts clenched up against your ass as your pussy pulses and milks him of all he has to spare. You're really unsure now of what you just did, but the glory that spreads through you as you come down makes it all feel hazy and good--doesn't really matter as long as this feeling lasts, even if it's just the heat of Eddie's body beneath you as you collapse and nuzzle deeper into his chest.

"Mrs. H..." He finally pants in a hoarse voice, sucking back whatever's left sticking to his mouth and trailing a hand up to rest it on your lower back. "Can't see straight...fucked me too good..."

You bury your grin in his collar, dazedly tracing circles in his shoulder as you readjust to your surroundings. When you finally manage to lift your head, you're met with your husband's groin--he's in the midst of pulling up his pants, but he pauses when he sees you eyeing him. Mostly focused on his heavy, hanging cock between his legs, still smeared with cum and spit and sweat...and although it's usually a toss up of whether he thinks you're too tired to do it or not, he doesn't interrupt and even moves closer when you reach out to touch it, and you lick a long stripe from tip to base to start polishing him off.

"Good girl...love it when you clean my cock for me. Always so gentle, huh? Ssh-" He hisses suddenly as you prop him up and suck the soft tip into your mouth, the globs of cum that threatened to fall getting licked up as you ease every last spurt of seed out of him. His hands brace your head but don't move, though you can't quite reach all the way--but when you start sliding off Eddie's cock to stretch closer and move further down on your husband's, he whimpers with sensitivity and watches with a keen eye as his cum drools out of your cunt like a faucet. You just wanna get close enough, forcing down each inch that's much easier to swallow when he's soft. When you've got the shaft all clean, though, you can get to what lies underneath, and sweetly lap at the sticky mess off your husband's balls until you've polished his skin and groomed every thatch of thick, dark hair he's got. "That's my girl. Givin' em such nice attention, yeah? You know they're yours."

Only when you're good and ready does he finally pull you off, a chuckle rising out of him when you sink back into the man underneath you--and unintentionally smother him with your tits in the process, your velvety skin falling victim to his teeth as he starts mawing at each round, soft globe of flesh. He buckles himself up and bends down to peck you on the lips, murmuring that he's gonna get some towels and go check on Casey, and makes sure to scritch the top of Eddie's frizzy head as a gesture of affection before he slips out the door and shuts it. As soon as he's gone, it gets too quiet.

"What were you gonna say earlier, Eddie?" You sit back so he can have some room to breathe, shuffling down so you can sit on the relatively clean sheets and lean back against the headboard. He follows close behind though and cuddles up in your embrace, his arms loosely hung around your waist while he rubs his cheek against you. He's unusually quiet too, breathing softly against the bare skin of your chest without a word to fill the silence.

"I....was gonna tell you I love you, Mrs. H. And I love Steve. And I love that crazy little squirt of yours. And...you make me feel like I belong. That's, uh...what I was gonna say. Stupid, right?" He jokes, but he doesn't laugh honestly. The playfulness fades away as fast as a heartbeat, and you can tell by his clinginess and the way he squeezes you tighter when you stroke his hair. The poor thing is incredibly lonely, although you've sensed that from the start.

"That's not stupid at all, darling. You know Casey idolizes you, you're practically another father to him. And Steve and I, we've loved you for a long time. We just...we were afraid we were pressuring you into a life you didn't want."

Somehow it's more nerve-wracking to say those few words out loud than it was to come on to him in the first place, but it isn't your first run around the track. You know that true feelings are much harder to be honest about, even when the person they regard is cuddled up next to you in the nude.

"No! No, never! You've been so good to me, I never...I've never been treated so well. You always made me feel safe." He sits up to look you in the eyes, his voice unusually level and mature as he keeps going. "You make me feel like I'm part of the family. Like I have a family. I mean, I do, but...my uncle needs his space, and so do I. I've mooched off him long enough. Although I guess I'm just mooching off you guys, now..."

He rubs at his arms, tentatively reaching behind his head to pull his shirt completely off and dump it with his other clothes. But he looks so dejected, depressed, like he's expecting you to realize that he is a mooch and throw him out of your house. His eyes flutter back up to you when you touch his cheek, however, and he listens intently as you spill out your heart-to-heart.

"You are part of our family. Our home is your home. You're not mooching off us if we're asking you to stay--you never have to, but you're always welcome here. We can't get enough of you." You shrug your shoulders, offering a sincere smile that he returns--and soon it turns to giggling, the high leaving you both bubbly and floaty like you just got done smoking a joint. For a moment or two you don't feel like you've got a ten plus year age gap, but that you're both young and foolish and passionate like you've always been at heart.

"....I was also gonna tell you you have the tightest pussy I've ever felt, holy mother of Ozzy-" He sighs dreamily, and you swat at his arm with an "oh, stop it", but his smirk doesn't fade. "Seriously. Thought you were gonna choke me out. I can't believe you're a mom...you've got a better body than I've ever seen in a magazine. No wonder Steve's such a monster in bed."

"I think you're underselling yourself, sweetie." You coo, leaning in close so he can practically taste the last hints of your perfume. "I wouldn't feel so tight if you weren't so beautifully endowed." You reach down and grope his soft, yet still slick cock, and watch his expression twist with open-mouthed awe and pleasure as you stroke it in your hand. Watching it twitch like crazy in your palm stirs something up in you, and your belly knots itself up as Eddie grows harder and harder under your touch. He's still so sticky--you reach underneath with your other hand and giggle as he gasps, and you're right, even his balls are all messy too. Now that you've got a grip you can feel the heft of them, full of that thick, creamy stuff that drives you crazy, and your fingers weave through the matted patches of hair to feel every curve and give them a squeeze to gauge how much you've got to work with.

"Never woulda thought the sunday school teacher'd have a kink like that," He mumbles, but it's a tease, his lips curving up into a smile as he hovers his hand between your own legs and presses his fingers into your clit--and, just like he hoped, he draws a whine and another squeeze out of you. "Now, you know I desperately wanna lick the cum out of you, and I know you're just dying to get your tongue on my nuts,"

He leans into a whisper, rubbing your soft little button harder so you have to clench to keep all that mess inside. "So why not sit on my face? And I'll give this pretty pussy so many kisses, just like she deserves..." He keeps leaning further, boldly brushing his lips against yours until you close the distance for a kiss--and it's so cute how smug he looks when he pulls away, totally unaware of the side you've been keeping down that you usually save for your husband's worst, most tiring days, when he needs someone else to take control.

"Lay back, sweetie." You charm him with glittery eyes, watching intently as he pulls his fingers away and sucks them clean of your arousal before he follows your order--but instead of climbing on top at once, you reach beneath yourself and plunge your fingers inside, swirling them up with a thick coating of sloppy cum that you transfer to him....but not where he would've expected. You watch his expressions as he sits up and sees what you're doing, circling that tight rim that's exposed to you now at this angle. If he wants you to stop, you're sure he'll say something, especially when you meet his gaze and slowly ease your slick finger inside him.

But he doesn't speak up, doesn't shake his head, doesn't push you away--Eddie just watches, legs shaking as he spreads them wider and fists clenching against the sheets when you dip your head down between them. Seeing his hole swallow up your finger so eagerly is cute, especially with those tantalizing balls heaving just above it and clenching when you curl your knuckles, searching for that spot to hook into that's gonna make his cock spurt all over his belly. He takes it well, he's clean, and he's tight. You can't help but think that Stevie's gonna adore this--and when you lave little kitten licks over his rim, getting a taste of that bitter sweat and cum off your hand, and his hips jump with a jolt of pleasure? It's so sweet you could just die. Your hair shifts suddenly and you feel a warmth on your scalp, though you don't peek up until you've wiggled the tip of your tongue against his hole a little more. But when you do, you're pleased to see Eddie hunched over you and his hand on your head, bottom lip pinned between his teeth as he strokes you devotedly.

"L..Love it when you do that..."

"Do what?" You tease, working your finger slowly back and forth as you wait for an answer, and planting a wet kiss on his sack when he takes too long and has to groan it out.

"F-Finger me. Love it when you finger me, and...u-use your tongue, and stuff...s'gross, but it feels..." A sigh makes its way out of him, long and whiny when you press another finger in alongside the first, and spread them both out. You can catch a glimpse of some pearly shimmers of his own cum when you do, getting creamier when you churn them around with your curious fingers. "Feels incredible. No girl'd ever do this for me...they'd think I was crazy-"

"That's why I'm a woman, Edward. Stevie likes it too." You work on searching for that spot again, letting a glob of spit shoot out on to his rim to massage it in and lube him up a little more, which he seriously seems to like--or at least his cock does, because it twitches and bounces at full stiffness now, completely erect and needy and leaking already.

"You do this to Steve?" He asks in a hushed whisper, eyes big and shocked. He's probably imagining it....oh, he's clenching so hard, he's definitely thinking about it.

"All the time. I'll eat him out in the shower after work," You grin, having clearly caught his rapt attention, and test his resilience by making use of your other hand to massage his balls as you talk. "And he'll moan, and moan, and moan. So shy about it, but as soon as my tongue's inside him he forgets it all. Whimpers like a little princess."

Eddie throws his head back, adam's apple bobbing to and fro as he swallows down his cries. It's a lot harder to do when you start holding his rim open and sticking your tongue inside, only allowing him a moment or two of mind-bending pleasure before you pull back and leave him gaping and empty.

"I-I'd watch that," He finally pipes up, trying desperately to cling to his confidence. You really can't wait until he drops the act entirely, and gets to the point that he's grinding into your mouth and begging Mrs. Harrington to eat him out.

"And you'd rub yourself raw to it, wouldn't you? Then you'd beg me to do it to you, too."

"Mh-!" He squeaks and his head cranks back down to watch you lap at his hole, the hand on your head now clasped over his mouth because he can't go without seeing you work for a second longer. But he nods his head frantically in agreement, and that's when you finally tug your fingers out and use them to push his cheeks completely apart--because you reward honest boys, and it takes a lot for a nice boy like him to admit he enjoys having a woman of the church's tongue up his asshole.

"...That's how I found out Steve liked you, Eddie. He was touching himself in the shower, moaning your name." With a grin that's gonna haunt his wet dreams for the rest of his life, you tease his newly-empty hole with the tip of your tongue and let it wriggle there, testing his reactions and the sounds muffled by him biting his index finger out of desperation. The tears glistening in his eyes make him look so pretty, the embarrassment and shyness something you can enjoy now because it won't last--and you plunge your tongue inside him, completely bypassing any resistance he might have had that's now been loosened by your efforts.

"Shit! No, fuck, that's so fucking hot, fuck-!" He grunts, playing with his own cock like he's not really trying to make himself cum--he just wants it out of the way so he can watch you bury your face in his ass. His balls sit high on your face and they're so much heftier when they're spilling over you, swollen and soft and smelling so manly. It's like a dream, a beautiful, sexy dream, and with how floaty your head is right now you're not altogether sure it isn't a dream. The determined and near-feral manner in which you're tongue-fucking your babysitter could very well be something you've just concocted in your mind and gotten too involved in....but the fingers digging painfully into your scalp feel a bit too real, and so does the chuckling that vibrates through your mouth and up his spine as you feel Eddie squeeze his tight ring around your tongue. A knowing smirk makes way for your lips to seal around him, to suck the incredibly sensitive skin that you've teased into vulnerability, and with that one motion you get exactly what you wanted.

"No, no no no no! Fuck, fuck, cumming, cumming!" You've never heard Eddie so needy, voice nasally and high-pitched like he's in pain, but it's the complete opposite. Once he starts humping your face, he can't stop, and he rides your tongue so hard and for so many harsh thrusts you nearly believe he's not gonna let you pull it out. But he does, once his poor, weeping cock finishes spitting another load all over your hair and his belly, and he drains his balls so dry they tighten up and then flatten until they're completely soft. Only then do you manage to extract yourself and sit up, tongue lolling out your mouth as you heave and gasp for air as if you'd just dunked your head underwater.

And Eddie's done when you come up. He falls back and lets his back hit the bed, chest rising and falling hard enough for you to watch him take each breath. You nudge his knees apart to take a peek, and while his cock is limp and still twitching with a spurt here and there, his hole is flushed and spasming with the aftershocks. It's gaping just wide enough to wink every now and then, and you're sure you can call that a job well done. If only you could take a picture to save it forever.

"It's me," Timing as perfect as always, the door clicks open and your husband pokes his head in, a bundle of towels under his arm and a glass of water he stretches to hand you before he shuts it with his foot. "Wore him out, I see."

"Yeah, we had fun. Casey?" Steve slides in beside you, dropping the towels in front of him and throwing one over Eddie's sticky chest, before tugging his polo off for the first and last time tonight to toss it to the floor.

"Sleeping like a baby. Saw his cup in the sink, Eddie gave him his medicine--he won't wake up for awhile." He greets you with a kiss on the cheek, but you redirect him with your hand on his chin to plant another on his lips--and you know he knows exactly what you got up to when your tongue slithers into his mouth, and he hums at the overwhelming taste of Eddie that you pass on before you pull off with a loud, wet smack.

"Aw, well done! Poor thing hates the stuff, I'm proud of you." You rub Eddie's knee that's collapsed into the bed, feeling smug and proud of yourself at wearing out someone more than ten years younger before you've run out of steam yourself.

Maybe it's cause you've just had to keep up with Steve, who's been a stallion ever since he was fucking you in the backseat of his BMW at the drive-in movies after graduation. You'll never forget the time he made you cum so hard you squirted on one of those dates, and had to throw his jacket over your lap to cover your soaked skirt when he dropped you off at home....and how he came right back the next morning with a handful of roses, asking bashfully if you would be his girlfriend. He's become even more romantic as he's matured--but he's never dropped that insatiable lust for you, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"What can I say? Best babysitter ever." Eddie pants, grinning up at both of you with his pearly whites glinting in the low light, although his eyes are half-lidded and he's already starting to doze off. You really did wear him out...but you're looking forward to telling Steve about your rather enlightening conversation.

"I guess we're lucky Casey's not getting up til noon," Steve murmurs quietly as you take a sip and pass the glass to him. "Can't imagine Eddie's gonna have any energy for wrangling our kid at six am after this."

"I don't think any of us will have the energy to get up early." You giggle, falling victim to your husband's firm kisses as soon as he sets the water down on the nightstand, his toned arm coming up to cup your cheek as he moves you to lay back against the pillows. He takes a moment to turn back and grab each of Eddie's deadweight legs--because by his snores, he's already passed out--and move them carefully over so he's laid out on the side of the bed and not splayed out in the middle, but returns right back to your lips as his fingertips graze your sides and send shivers up and down your spine.

"I'm not sleepy yet. Are you sleepy?" You shake your head, feeling a girlish flutter in your heart that takes you right back to those days of your early romance. It's one of the many reasons you still feel such intense love for him, because he reminds you of how happy you were then with every headrush that comes from a kiss, and every time he makes you giggle with a joke or a sweet gesture just like he did when you were dating. "Then I think a certain hot momma I know needs some me time."

"Me time?" He nods, a "mhm" hummed into your lips as he steals another kiss, before planting a firm, squirm-inducing one right at the soft spot of your throat. "What kind of 'me time', may I ask?"

Steve leans close enough to your lips that you're sure he's going in for a deeper kiss--but when he hesitates, your mouth is already parted, and you feel that puff of hot breath on your tongue as he mutters in as low and rumbly a tone as he can get.

"Me 'eating this pretty pussy until my wife cums on my mouth' time. Obviously." He smirks, and flicks his tongue across your bottom lip to hear you moan for him already. Knowing Steve, this is definitely gonna keep Eddie from sleeping soundly in the same room, especially when he's got that look in his eyes. But...at least now, you don't really have to worry about waking the babysitter anymore.

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