Dog Sitter Comes to Visit

By Risandtylersexscapades.
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As Esmerelda punched her code into the glowing screen mounted to the thick wooden door at the top of the marble flight of stairs, she wondered how much it must have cost. The door, the security system, the stane work, all individually seemed more expensive than her entire family home. Just as she walked through the immaculate vestibule, her phone dinged, “Right on time! Thank you, dear! The boys are waiting! Buxter and Charlie are in the drawing-room while Bear and Frank are in the solarium. Call or text if you need anything!”

She’d been dog sitting for about a year now while attending community college online but had never been at home even half as fancy as Ms. Crawford’s estate – it was technically considered an estate; she had looked it up after the first interview. If her dad had a house like this, she would have spent the past year at Yale instead of wasting away in zoom classes, where the hardest part of the course for her is staying awake.

But alas, he did not, and in the decade following his wife’s death, he’d grown quite dependent on his eldest daughter. That became even more true when he was injured on the job last year. There’s no workers comp for subcontractors, or at least not for undocumented ones. Esme knew he could tell she was lying when he told her that she didn’t get into any of her dream schools, but he respected her too much to protest, and he knew her siblings needed her.

Her dad hadn’t quite looked at her the same since that day, not out of resentment, though. She knew that no matter what she felt or said, he believed he had failed her. Technically, in some ways, he had, but Esme never saw it like that. Either way, her father needed her help. Dog sitting was the perfect option – especially if she could become Ms. Crawford’s go-to sitter, they paid her four times her standard rate per dog! While working, she could attend class, do some basic writing for blog sites, and tutor or babysit her siblings if it was needed.

She walked through the various corridors before finding Buxter and Charlie. “So, this is a ‘drawing room.’ Good to know,” she thought to herself as she pets the two massive Great Danes.

The immaculate leather couches, mini bar, and fireplace filled a room that seemed the size of her house. Every piece, from the millwork to the furniture to the various awards and artifacts on the mantle, seemed unique, luxurious, and specific – like there was a story for each piece. Solarium, she’d deduced, was the sun room she’d first met the dogs in. Her mind flashed back to that day. The beautiful, tall, elegant woman lounging cross-legged on the leather daybed petting Charlie while the other three lay at her bare feet.

“Charlie is a tad anxious compared to his brothers. They’re all rescues. They were being mistreated by a monstrous kennel breeder. They were actually confiscated by the police!”

The woman held her hand to her chest in an almost cartoon fashion, “He was fined heavily and lost his license. It’s a shame they couldn’t do more to that swine. The brief of it is tried as we might, all four periods of sleep in our bedroom, and Charlie will whine unless he is nestled right against you. He’s perfectly harmless, gentle as a flower, and I hope this won’t be a problem.”

“Not at all, Mrs. Crawford.”

“Oh please, dear. That’s my mother-in-law, call me Melanie. Also, technically I am a Miss, one of the perks of being a widow. I never liked Misses, and it felt so boring.”

“Okay, Mrs. Crawford. Melanie,” Esme replied, head staring at the ground.

“Good girl,” She purred with a wry smile, “Or, at least Miss Crawford, but with a ‘zzz sound not an ‘s.’ Miss with an ‘s’ sound means not yet married. I had quite a life with Tyler. Miss with a ‘zzz’ sound means no longer married, well it means not defined by marital status to some, to me, Ms. Crawford just sounds the best.” Esme liked the sound of it as well

“Melanie,” Esmerelda caught herself saying the name aloud.

She liked the way it felt in her mouth. She didn’t think it was a crush, though if it were, she wouldn’t know, but more of a fascination. Apart from the ones of elementary school, Esme had never really had feelings for anyone. Besides the tragedies that scarred her younger years, she hadn’t the time for boys. Between honors classes, tennis, work, and home, the only downtime she had growing up was spent resting. Hell, she didn’t even have time to learn how to show off the kicking body she’d grown into. Despite her appearance, Esmeralda was quite petite.

At 4’9″, though, even a size 0 waist doesn’t fit conventional proportions. Her hips may have been the same diameter as the supermodels, but because she was much shorter, it seemed off. Plus, her double D’s meant anything that wasn’t super form-fitting made her look like she had a gut that she didn’t, as most t-shirts simply draped straight down from the end of her massive tits. Anything form-fitting made her feel like a total whore…perhaps that was the catholic upbringing.

Regardless, Esme had no money for looking cute, no time to figure it out, and certainly no time to enjoy the benefits. It wasn’t until the lockdowns started in her senior year of high school that she even started to masturbate…though, once she had tasted that forbidden fruit, though, it was all near impossible to stop. Her pleasure consumed her, the sensations, the emotions, most of all the sinfulness.

She hadn’t admitted it to herself yet, but she loved going to confession to tell her priest what she’d made herself cum with and how many times she’d done so since their last confession, almost as much as the masturbation itself. Even now, she bit her lip thinking about all the places she could flick her bean in this massive mansion or about how the jacuzzi jets in the master bath might feel against her holes.

That was another perk of the dog sitting system: privacy – something not available in the tiny, two-bedroom home she shared with her father and three brothers. It was also why she felt so nervous about sitting for Ms. Crawford. There were cameras in pretty much every room that didn’t have a toilet…except the master bathroom, which had several. She’d seen at least a dozen in the master bedroom, which was where she would be sleeping with their pack of dogs.

Ms. Crawford said it was part of their security system, which made sense, but the quantity in the bedroom seemed less relevant. Esmerelda unzipped her jacket and placed it on the barstool with her duffel bag, and headed towards the other two dogs. She rubbed the soft skin of her shoulder from under the oversized flannel. The weight of the bag had left its mark even on the dense winter coat. As she sauntered down the hall, images of the house matron’s conversation with her flashed back yet again.

“Regarding the cameras, I’m sure you’ve noticed. It’s a part of our security system – which reminds me, and I’ll need to send you an entry code. Anyways, before we leave, we’ll be sure to manually turn off all the cameras in private spaces, the bedroom, etc.”

As Melanie spoke, Esmerelda’s eyes were on the ass swaying in front of her as they walked through the estate. The woman wore a thin dress, the material draped elegantly and left nothing to the imagination for the young woman behind her. Melanie looked back and caught Esmerelda staring. Ms. Crawford smiled but made no comment. From which point, Esme swore the woman increased the sway of her hips.

“If you prefer them on – which I recommend (it absolves all parties from any liabilities pursuant to contested damages) — there’s a simple switch on the side. Cameras that are active will send us notifications anytime the dogs bark loudly. It’s intended to alarm residents of break-ins, but in our case, it has proven to have unintended benefits. If I am unoccupied, we will offer some quick advice or get the dogs to calm down if they’re problematic, which is a rarity, I assure you.”

Esme was only half-listening, maybe a quarter listening. Her mind was occupied with feeling caught by her employer, being drawn to her figure, and the uncontrollable throbbing between her legs that had been raging since she entered the house.

“…by default, we leave them turned on everywhere but the bedroom and bath. Is that satisfactory?” Esmeralda nodded in reply. She was grateful to have tuned back in for that last sentence.

“Well, I think that’s everything,” Melanie said as she turned around and faced the girl, “Any questions you have for me?”

Charlie licked her ankles, pulling her from her daydream. No, not a crush. Esme was, however, drawn to Ms. Crawford. Perhaps it was that she envied her. Ms. Crawford was tall and slender. She had an athletic build that looked good in anything. With her awkwardly disproportionate body, Esme found that not to be the case. She’d grown to resent her tits. At barely 80 pounds, Esme looked amazing naked, but when it came to clothes, her tits and height meant almost every outfit made her look either chunky or like a whore.

Loose clothes draped straight down from her protruding breasts, and in skin-tight outfits, you could see every detail of them. Anything opens in the front made her look like a colonial bar wench. Typically, she was far too uncomfortable in her skin to really try the latter two outside the confines of her own home. Melanie, on the other hand, looked amazing no matter what. The cut of her top dropped well past her cleavage, yet the woman still looked elegant and refined. Her long brown hair was peppered with gray, which only seemed to heighten the attention her dark green eyes commanded.

Most women would have dyed the strands, but this woman was not most women. With each breath, she oozed sexuality and confidence and maturity and everything Esmerelda felt she lacked in this world. That woman could walk into a ballroom topless and look classier than Esme. She rolled her eyes at the imaginary dinner guests drooling over Ms. Crawford as she continued down the hall.

As expected, Esmerelda found Charlie and Buxter sprawled on the daybed. Upon seeing his new friend, Charlie exposed his belly, waiting for her affection. The sun felt intoxicating magnified through the large, windowed ceiling. If it weren’t for the piles of snow outside, one could forget how far below freezing the temperature outside was. Esmeralda loved the way the sun felt on her caramel skin. After peaking around, she unbuttoned the flannel revealing the small tank top she wore underneath.

Her eyes darted at the camera in the corner of the room: on; for now, she’d settle for this quantity of exposure. Though she also noted that shorts would be the only pants she’d be wearing in that room moving forward. She checked the time, 3:15p. That left 45 minutes before it was time to feed the boys.

Esme plopped onto the daybed beside the two dogs, making sure that there was no chance the camera could see the graphic hentai loading onto her screen. Charlie curled up against her, Buxter settled back down at the end, and she heard the other two making their way to her on the hardwood floor.

“These boys sure do seem to love me.” she thought. She had no idea just how true that would be.

*****

With their dinner, her dinner, evening walks, and playtime is done, Esmerelda walked the house to make sure everything was locked, then brought her luggage up into the bedroom. Normally people would have her stay in a guest room or the couch, but Ms. Crawford had not only given her their master bedroom but had done it up quite nicely. When she opened the door, she found the massive bed draped in elegant fabrics, ambient lighting, a chilled bottle of champagne, and a basket of assorted snacks all waiting for her.

The dogs had followed her in. Charlie jumped onto the bed while the other three found their places in the corner of the large room. She was impressed that Charlie seemed to show no interest in the basket of treats. With each dog being probably more than twice her size, she would be helpless to stop him if he had. The photos on the dresser drew her attention. Ms. Crawford mentioned that she still talked to her husband often. A tragic but also beautiful notion.

Her father did the same. Mr. Crawford looked like the perfect match for Ms. Crawford’s elegance and sexuality. He was large and firm but had a refinement that wasn’t quite identifiable. Nothing was flashy about his appearance or his attire. In the photos, he wore sharp suits, shorts, jeans, and t-shirts, but in every photo of them, there was an intangible impression. ‘Big dick energy,’ her brother Miguel would say, interesting. Esme probably shouldn’t feel what she felt between her thighs while looking at photos of a dead man and his wife.

She turned away and sent a ‘thank you text’ to Melanie. After pressing send (somewhat embarrassed by the half paragraph of ass-kissing her text had devolved into), Esme looked up and saw that the pack seemed to all be perfectly content as they were. With that, she reached for her toiletries, and a wicked grin stretched across as she thought about the jets in the bathtub. Toothbrush and face wash weren’t the only things tucked away in the oversized satchel. This was going to be a wonderful two weeks.

She hooked her tank top straps with her thumbs and pulled her massive tits loose of the cotton as well as the bra below. Her jeans were next. After unbuttoning them, she let them cascade to the floor. In a matter of five seconds, her nubile figure suddenly lay bare before her new friends. All four dogs’ heads turned to her; Bear did an adorable head tilt that made her blush.

“What? You’ve never seen a naked girl before, Bear?” She said jokingly to his vacant stare.

Just in case, she took the treats with her. Ms. Crawford should have known she was only 19, but after all, it wasn’t like she was going anywhere. Apart from a sip or two of her father’s beers, Esmerelda had never had alcohol before. She was a bit too shy for any of that in high school. Apart from boys staring and pointing at her tits, no one seemed to care to invite her to the parties, not that she would have had the time to attend anyways. She grabbed the bottle as well and headed for the bathroom.

Now was as good a time as any to start.

Once inside the warm water, she found the jets offered a wonderfully unique sensation. She lifted her legs over the rim of the jacuzzi and arched her back so as to give the propulsion direct access to her. The cool porcelain of the outer rim was a warm body in her mind. She pressed into him — or was it her? Images of Ms. Crawford’s dress falling to the floor flooded her brain.

Suddenly it was her hips pressed against Esmeralda, her hand inside her, her tongue. She watched Ms. Crawford’s fingers slide up her young skin and press hard on her breasts, so hard that the tissue seeped out in between her digits. Esme moaned – the first, subdued, the second — upon the realization of her isolation, she let loose.

“Right there, Ms. Crawford! Oh God Fuck! Ahhhhhhhhh!”

The climax came quicker than anticipated as the figure she’d only seen photos of came to loom in the imaginary background of the scene. Mr. Crawford’s broad shoulders approached his wife from behind and pressed her with his cock into Esme’s pussy. Their eyes locked as he began to fuck her through his wife.

Esme topped up her glass of champagne and reached for her thrusting dildo, then proceeded to reposition herself so that the propulsion was aimed at her asshole. This was going to be a fun week.

 

Continued on the next page (link below).

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*This story has been edited to fix spelling, punctuation, & basic grammar, but the narrative and plot have remained the same. Just remember, even with the limited editing we do, it doesn’t always mean the flaws in a story are always fixed.

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