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Archive name: stretch.txt (F/f, 1st, fist)
Authors name: Sapphire (sultan_of_suspense@hotmail.com)
Story title : Stretching the Limits

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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
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Thank you for your consideration.
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Stretching the Limits (F/f, 1st, fist)
by Sapphire (sultan_of_suspense@hotmail.com)

***

A young babysitter gets the wrong and right ideas about 
mothers. This is my first story, so be gentle with me...

***

When I was fourteen I started babysitting for Anne's 
kids. Anne was in her early thirties, had three kids and 
a husband who was mainly involved in staying away from 
home. She was a tall, slender woman with a broad smile 
and piercing green eyes.

Since I was tormented by puberty, I was ugly every time I 
looked into the mirror.

Every now and then the situation would arise, that, when 
Anne's husband was away and she herself had prior 
engagements, she would call me to baby-sit. I would bring 
the kids to bed, watch some TV and sleep in a spare bed. 
Sometimes Anne would arrive early and we would drink some 
wine, exchange stories and go to bed.

Yes, she was a beautiful woman. She would try to convince 
me I was one too, which, of course, I found very hard to 
believe. I would lie there in bed, wide awake, waiting 
for the familiar sound of the key being inserted into the 
lock and the sigh of exhaustion as she came home. 

Sometimes, when I was in an especially adventurous mood I 
would indulge in harmless fantasies about sex with 
faceless men, and have light buzzing orgasms, which would 
just nudge me a little closer to sleep.

One night I woke up at Anne's place. She was drunk; I 
heard her uncertain shuffle in the living room. Being a 
friend I managed to ignore my sleepiness and headed 
downstairs.

Anne was a mess. Apathetically she sat on the sofa with a 
thousand-mile stare.

"Hi Anne," I mumbled and sat next to her, squinting my 
eyes at the ambient light.

She didn't speak, but wiped her eyes in violently 
uncontrolled gesture.

"What's up?" I asked.

"I got ditched" 

"By whom?"

"Some guy I know," she said and sighed.

The message didn't come through at first. "What?"

"I had a boyfriend. But the fuck broke up," she whispered 
and started to cry. Bewildered I lay a hand on her and 
stroked her arm.

"Come here", I remember saying. She turned towards me and 
started crying her eyes out in my arms. I just sat there, 
stroking her hair until she calmed down.

"Thanks for the moral support," she said and touched my 
cheek, a broken smile upon her lips. "God, I feel like 
shit. Then she started to cry again. 

It hadn't taken me much to figure out that she had been 
lonely for the better part of her life. So as not to 
insult my and her intelligence I didn't ask her why she 
had been seeing someone else.

We drank one more glass of wine and went to sleep.

*

Later that month it was upon me again to fulfill my duty 
as the guardian of Anne's kids. I walked in, greeted the 
kids and yelled her name.

"Come upstairs, please," she yelled back.

I found her in her bedroom. She was nervous and ran past 
me towards a closet, wearing nothing but her panties and 
her bra, the nipples of her very small breasts trying to 
pierce the delicate fabric. She yanked a dress out of the 
closet and put it on. "Zip me up, will you, dear," she 
gasped.

I said okay and that was when time seemed to move so very 
slowly. 

I touched her bare back and felt a flash jolt through me. 
Unnerved I zipped up her dress, she gave me a peck on the 
cheek, bade me goodbye and ran off.

That night the television was a non-existent entity, 
spraying photons in my direction but they all seemed to 
miss me. At last I went to bed, waited for her to return, 
heard her walk by and go to bed.

But sleep? No.


It took me two weeks to discover that I had developed a 
crush on her. I thought too much about her, indulged too 
much in her company and was severely in need of a touch 
of her. My thoughts drifted far and beyond anything I 
thought I could imagine. My fantasies became less and 
less harmless to the point where I would imagine her 
touching me, where I would touch myself. The shock of the 
first time when I admitted her into my fantasies slowly 
faded with each ensuing time I imagined her touching my 
face, my neck, my breasts, my clit, slowly pushing open 
my vagina with one finger, then two.

One night when I was at it again, I thought of her and 
her kids and that I would likely have some kids of my own 
one day.

The excitement stopped cold.

Holy fuck!

Imagining having to push a kid through that narrow hole, 
Jesus fucking Christ, that had to hurt.

Too scared of thing about sex I managed to abstain from 
masturbating.

For the period of three days, because Anne was in need of 
my assistance again.

I asked Anne whether it hurt to give birth. She nodded, I 
freaked.

That night, lying in the spare bed, I decided to stretch 
things, literally.

Anne would someday walk towards me, kiss me softly. 
Startled I would kiss her, touch her, cup a breast and 
fondle it. She would invite me to go to bed. Breathless I 
would comply.

We would undress and stand in front of each other. She 
would ask me, whether I wanted this. I would nod. We 
would kiss again, I would scratch her back, and she would 
grab my ass and pull me towards her. We would fall on the 
bed. Breaking the kiss, she would touch my clit, I would 
soak. She would go down, lick my clit, insert a finger in 
me, then two, shoving them in and out.

I would arch my back and beg for more. She would try 
three fingers, and let some saliva drip unto my vagina. 
She would ask me whether I really wanted this, I would 
gasp "yes" and she would surely push four fingers in me 
until I didn't know where the pain ended and the pleasure 
started.

I was desperately fingering myself up to the point where 
I managed to plough three fingers in my soaking wet cunt. 
I clenched my jaws as I tried to muffle my cries and 
relax the muscles in my cunt and push another finger in. 
With my other hand I feverishly rubbed my clit until my 
back arched like a longbow and I came so hard I couldn't 
remember making a sound. 

My climax stopped short as if it had hit a brick wall.

All was quiet.

Thank God.

Maybe she was just being polite.

*

Next morning she was polite, as ever, thank heavens.

As much as I could I practiced until my vagina was so 
wide that I finally managed to fill it with my hand. Soon 
after my fist fit snugly. I learned to bite into my 
pillow to stop myself from screaming from pleasure so as 
not to draw too much attention from my sisters and my 
mother towards me.

I had no plans to seduce Anne, how could I?

*

Anne had returned home, drunk again. Life hadn't been too 
kind for her lately. Men had become sexist pigs, I 
wouldn't know.

I sat beside her again, hearing her mutter. Somehow I 
looked at her and found her staring at me. Things became 
blurry there and then.

Suddenly I found us kissing passionately and ripping each 
other's clothes off. I felt her small breasts and touched 
a nipple. She stuck a tongue into my mouth and pulled my 
face hard against hers.

I slid a hand towards her mound, she stopped and looked 
at me.

"I.," she started.

"I want this to happen," I said and touched her panties.

Quickly she killed the lights and started french-kissing 
me. I felt that she was wet though her panties and pushed 
the fabric away. My fingers felt her warmth and her 
wetness and found her clit, which I started to rub. My 
middle finger nudged against her entrance and slipped in 
smoothly. I felt the come flow out of my cunt.

"Please touch me," I whispered as I grabbed her hand and 
placed it on my mound. She complied and started to rub my 
clit. I started pushing three fingers in and out of her. 
She was wide on account of having given birth to three 
kids.

"You too," I said. She hesitated. "Do it." I hissed and 
gasped as she put two more fingers inside me. I stopped 
kissing her and grabbed her tightly. "More."

"What?" 

"One more finger." 

She did, I felt my muscles stretch and grunted. She 
touched my clit with her thumb and things went black. 

I came to, still holding her tightly.

"Anne?"

"Yes?"

"One more finger, I can take it."

"No."

"Yes" I said and grabbed her hand still buried inside me. 
"Do it, I am ready."

She released me and let me lie on the sofa. I spread my 
legs as much as I could. She let some saliva drip unto my 
cunt and started to push her hand in.

"Oh yes" I whispered, "oh yes."

She gave me surprised look when she found that her whole 
hand fit. Slowly she pushed her entire hand in and out, 
pumping my cunt till I was grunting with pleasure. She 
stopped, I wanted to look up but then I felt her fist 
entering my cunt. Her fist went deep, deeper than I had 
so far fisted myself. One withdrawal was all it took. I 
clenched my teeth so hard that it hurt.

When I looked up again, I saw her with a puzzled gaze.

"Oh my God" I managed to gasp.

"That thing," she said. "Will you return the courtesy?" 

"If you're up to it."

"I think I am."