A Babysitter

When I was in my late twenties, I had a short but memorable affair with a similarly-aged woman. She was then a friend of my wife and often was a babysitter for our two young sons. It began when she was changing into her bathing suit to use our backyard pool. I had summoned up the courage to follow her into the room where she was changing (our downstairs bathroom), and there I told her to bend forward over the sink. She said, "We really shouldn't," but she complied. That was the beginning of an intense series of sex. We had each other in the pool, at the kitchen table, in the living room, upstairs in our bedroom, and even in a neighborhood park. Strangely, she broke off our sexual dalliance because I wouldn't promise not to do anything with her mouth. She afterwards moved to the Midwest.

— Al, 47

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