My Babysitter, Part 3

666Katherine

As the weeks turned into months, Emily's influence seeped deeper into our household, subtle at first but increasingly bold. She had a knack for it—devious, really, though I'd never admit that out loud. With the kids, she started small: extra treats hidden in her bag, like those gourmet chocolates she claimed were "just for fun," or pulling out her phone to show them viral animal videos during downtime. Soon, she was planning elaborate games—treasure hunts in the backyard that ended with prizes she'd "forgotten" in her car, or baking sessions where she'd let them lick the batter straight from the bowl, something Sarah always forbade because of the raw eggs. The kids ate it up, literally and figuratively. "Emily's the best!" little Mia would squeal, her face smeared with frosting, while Jack nodded vigorously, clutching a new toy car Emily had "found" at the dollar store.

It didn't take long for the complaints to start. One Saturday morning, when Sarah announced a trip to the zoo, the kids groaned in unison. "But Mom, Emily takes us to the park and lets us feed the ducks real bread!" Jack whined, crossing his arms. Mia chimed in, "Yeah, and she sings silly songs the whole way. Can Emily come instead?" Sarah's face tightened, her knuckles whitening on the car keys, but she forced a smile and bundled them out the door. Later that evening, as we tucked them in, Mia mumbled sleepily, "I wish Emily was here to read stories. She does the voices better." Sarah shot me a look that could curdle milk, but I just shrugged it off with a chuckle.

The fury built gradually, like a storm on the horizon. Sarah confronted me after one particularly blatant incident—a family movie night where Emily "happened" to stop by to drop off a forgotten jacket, only to end up staying when the kids begged her to join. They clustered around her on the couch, laughing at her impressions, while Sarah sat rigidly on the edge, her popcorn untouched. The next morning, over coffee, Sarah exploded. "This has to stop, David! That girl is undermining me at every turn. The kids are starting to prefer her over their own mother. It's like she's plotting to... to take over or something. We need to let her go."

I set my mug down, keeping my voice calm, even as a thrill shot through me at the thought. Inwardly, it turned me on—the way Emily was weaving herself into the fabric of our lives, slowly prying Sarah away from the center. It was as if she was positioning herself to replace her, bit by bit, and the deviousness of it made my pulse race. But outwardly, I defended her fiercely. "Come on, Sarah, that's ridiculous. The kids just like Emily because she's fun and young. There's no secret plot here—she's great with them, and that's why we hired her. Firing her over this would be unfair, and honestly, it'd upset the kids even more. Let's not make a mountain out of a molehill."

Sarah stormed off, slamming the bedroom door, her jealousy now a palpable force in the house. She started snapping at Emily over trivial things— a toy left out, a snack wrapper in the trash—but Emily took it in stride, flashing me knowing glances when Sarah wasn't looking. That night, after Sarah had gone to bed early again, claiming another headache, Emily slipped into my office, locking the door behind her. She was wearing one of those short sundresses that hugged her curves, her massive breasts straining against the fabric, her ass swaying as she approached. "Heard about the blow-up," she whispered, climbing onto my lap in the desk chair. "Thanks for having my back... again."

Her gratitude was immediate and intense. She ground against me, her thong already damp, as her hands worked my zipper free. "The kids adore me," she murmured, her breath hot against my ear, "and soon, maybe they'll forget all about her." The words sent a dark rush through me, heightening everything. I gripped her hips, pulling her down onto me right there, thrusting up as she rode me hard, her moans muffled against my shoulder. Her breasts bounced free from the dress's neckline, and I buried my face in them, sucking and biting as she clenched around me, coming with a shudder that pulled me over the edge too.

Afterward, as she adjusted her dress and kissed me deeply, she whispered, "I'm not done yet. Watch how I make them mine." The promise lingered, fueling my secret arousal at the wedge she was driving—not just between Sarah and me, but between Sarah and everything she held dear. The house felt charged with it, and I couldn't wait to see what Emily would do next.