Jenny (Babysitter's Club 5)

I came longer and harder than I ever have before with anyone, and still, I didn’t want to leave the warmth of her body. And I didn’t. She didn’t leave my bed until the wee hours of the morning. I tried to get her to stay, but her words had me coming wide-awake. “I have school in a few hours.” Fuck me; my girlfriend is still in high school.

Derrick

For the next few days, we were like two kids who’d discovered something new and exciting. She had babysitting duty every day of the week. Apparently, I was having a very busy week at work—my ass. I was home every evening before she came home from school, waiting for her. Thank fuck for the holiday season, or I wouldn’t have been able to pull that off.

We’d spend a couple of hours playing with the girls, but once they were fed, bathed and put to bed for the night it was just she and I. For some reason the anticipation that built, the little stolen touches while the girls were awake made me damn near catatonic by the time I took her down, or she me.

I knew it was the newness of our relationship, but I was hoping that the feeling lasted for at least a couple of years. Then again, the kind of excitement she awakens in me has to do with more than just sex.

I can’t quite explain how she’d wormed herself into not just my heart but under my damn skin. I find myself thinking about her at the oddest times, and I can honestly say I’ve never done that shit before, not even with the nut. It makes me wonder just exactly what it was I had with Lauren.

I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t have feelings for her, but what I thought was love was a pale comparison to what I have with Jenny. I wake up some nights in a cold sweat after having some fucked up dream about Jenny and I passing each other on opposite sides of the street or some other shit like that that keeps me awake yearning for her.

So far, we haven’t really discussed anything too heavy, Jenny and I. She seems to want to enjoy the newness of the relationship without any blemish, and with it being this close to the holiday, I’ve decided to let her have her way. But soon, very soon, I’m going to have to have a talk with her dad.

She’s old enough, and from what I’ve come to understand, her trust fund makes mine look like chump change, and mine is nothing to sneeze at. But I say that to say that she can definitely stand on her own two feet.

She’s smart, sweet, and kind, and she loves my girls. I hit the fucking jackpot. Though it still freaks me out a little when I think of our history and the long and winding road, we traveled to get to where we are now. The shit is damn near spooky. Add the fact that this one seems to be working off of some kind of timetable in her head, and I don’t know what the fuck. I’ve never let a woman control me, not even when I had my head buried up my ass.

I let her talk me into hitting it raw, which hadn’t taken much effort on her part. After having her skin-to-skin, the thought of wearing a rubber to fuck her was not appealing. In fact, I think I have that feeling imprinted on my brain for life.

Whenever I came to my senses and brought up the danger of me fucking her raw, she’d just get this odd look on her face and tell me not to worry about it. I was beginning to think that maybe she couldn’t get pregnant, that maybe she had some kind of medical condition that she hadn’t told me about.

The thought made me uneasy, and I realized it was because I wanted to have everything with her. I wanted to go through a pregnancy with her, to watch her grow big with my son or daughter. Not now, of course, but somewhere down the line, I would like to have that with her.

I didn’t bring it up until a few days before Xmas when we were spending a rare moment out of bed, wrapping gifts for the girls to put under the tree that she and I had put up the day before while the girls watched and clapped their little hands together in between crawling between our feet and getting in the way.

“Jenny, is there something you’re not telling me?” How the fuck do you ask an eighteen-year-old girl if she couldn’t have kids?

“About what?” She didn’t look at me too busy adding ribbon to the gift that I was sure my girls weren’t going to give a fig about.