[FM] Hooking up with the Dad I used to babysit for at a 4th of July BBQ

As you all know, yesterday was the 4th of July. My parents were hosting their annual BBQ at our house. The backyard was buzzing with neighbors, family, and friends, all chowing down on burgers and waving sparklers. I wore a little red sundress that hugged my curves, low-cut enough to turn heads but not so much that my mom would drag me inside to change. No bra, just a thong underneath.

I was playing waitress/server, carrying a tray of lemonade when I spotted him—Mr. Carter, one of the dad's I used to babysit for. His kids are older now, but back then, I'd spend evenings at his house, secretly crushing on him. He's in his early 40s, and tall, and those piercing blue eyes have always made me blush. He was there with his wife, but I noticed they were barely talking, her glued to her phone while he sipped a beer by the grill.

I couldn't help myself. I sauntered over, tray in hand, and offered him a lemonade, making sure to lean in just enough to give him a view. "Long time no see, Mr. Carter," I said, smirking. He chuckled, calling me"sweetheart," which made my stomach flip in the best way. We chatted about nothing—how his family was doing, my new job—while I caught him stealing glances at my dress. His wife didn't even look up when I approached Mr. Carter.

My parents were busy playing hosts, so I seized my chance. I "accidentally" spilled some lemonade on my dress, gasping a bit melodramatically.

"Oh no, I need to clean this up," I said, locking eyes with him. "Upstairs bathroom's free if you need it," I leaned in to Mr. Carter and added, my voice low.

He hesitated, then mumbled something about needing to use the restroom and followed me inside.

Upstairs, I led him past the bathroom to my old bedroom, shutting the door behind us. "Oops, wrong room," I giggled, but he didn't laugh. He just stared, his eyes dark with something I'd dreamed about for years.

I stepped closer, heart pounding, and whispered, "I've wanted you for so long."

That broke him. Mr. Carter grabbed me, kissing me hard, his hands roaming under my dress, squeezing my ass. I yanked his shirt off, running my nails down his chest, feeling him harden against me.

I pushed him onto my old bed—pink sheets and all—and straddled him, grinding against his jeans.

"Fuck, you're trouble," he groaned, flipping me over and pulling my thong down. He didn't waste time, his fingers finding me soaked already, teasing me until I was begging.

I fumbled with his belt, freeing him, and fuck, he was thicker than I'd imagined. I wanted to taste him, but he was too impatient.

"Condom?" He asked.

"Pill." I responded.

Mr. Carter pinned my wrists and slid into me raw. I gasped, the stretch intense, my moans muffled by his hand over my mouth—couldn't risk the BBQ crowd hearing us.

He fucked me like he'd been holding back for years, whispering how much tighter I was than his wife, how he'd jerked off thinking about me.

That sent me over the edge, and I came hard, shaking beneath him.

I flipped him and slid down his cock, my dress bunched around my waist. I leaned down, kissing his neck, whispering naughty things in his ear. telling him, "Forget her, you're mine today." He groaned, telling me he was going to cum.

"Cum inside me!" I pled.

He did and I collapsed on top of him, both of us panting.

We cleaned up fast, sneaking back downstairs separately just in time for fireworks. His wife was oblivious, and my parents were too busy to notice.

Later, he texted me: "We can't do that again." I just replied with a winky emoji and a pic of my cum filled pussy. I don't think he means that.