When I was 16 I babysat for a young mom who's husband was a police officer serving in the military - I'd watched the two little girls for several months before I ever met him. But when I did... whoo. He was young also, just under 30 and hot, so of course I was intimidated by him. Unfortunately for my high school dating career, my impulse when intimidated has always been to become aggressive and joking, to show the males I cared nothing for them, being a strong, smart independent woman. High school aged boys never did react very well to this strategy, leading me to a life of no dates for a long time!

So my default approach to meeting this strange but attract man in an authority position, who's home I was in and who's children I cared for, was to be bold and pushy. I assertively met his gaze and joked and punched his arm, behaving like the guys I hung out with - and never suspecting he was viewing me through quite a different lens.

It wasn't until some time later that he revealed his thoughts and feelings to me, of the shared encounters that had taken place - but needless to say I was so incredibly naive and oblivious to it all. But once I knew... oh the flush of power I felt.

See, being a big strong cop/army guy, he'd gotten very used to being dominant, assertive, always in control and in charge. He talked, people listened. His wife and daughters did what they were told. But not me. I stood up to him. I was unafraid, tall and young and I looked him dead in the eye and said the most awful, disparaging things, in a mocking, friendly way - the way men rag on each other to get laughs - and I had absolutely no clue that I was singing his tune. He'd secretly fantasized about being dominated and bossed around by a strong woman, and suddenly there was one in his house doing it - the fucking 16 year old babysitter for fuck's sake, and I just blithely thought I was being cool by calling him names and teasing him, then socking him or pushing on his shoulder and mocking him for blushing.

A part of me knew this behavior was dangerous. I mean, in what world is that normal?? It didn't really hit the fan until one day we got into a verbal confrontation and I stepped up into his face and shoved his chest, mocking him, and suddenly he slammed me back into the wall and pressed himself against me. Time stopped. My heart about beat the fuck out of my chest, and I was staring up into his flushed face and feeling his hard body against mine, his hands tight around my wrists, pinned under him - looking into his eyes completely unable to think or move or do anything at all. While his daughters were around the corner watching cartoons.

Just as quickly as it happened, he stepped off and just walked out the front door, leaving me with watery knees, a hammering heart and a pussy so wet I could feel it squish when I moved.

I don't remember how much later it was, maybe only a week or so, but we began talking via messenger over the computer, and email, and he told me everything he'd been thinking and feeling. He led with telling me I didn't know how close I'd come to getting kissed that day against the wall, and it was a revelation to me. I'd never been kissed, at this point. I didn't get my first boyfriend until about a year and half later, and the thought of this grown man wanting to kiss me...

Obviously he knew it was not okay for a cop to be wanting to fuck his underaged babysitter, much less for wanting her to strap on a dildo and ram him in the ass with it, but that was part of what made it so hot. He began telling me the things I made him think of, the things he wanted to do to me, and more specifically, the things he imagined me doing to him. I'd never known what it felt like to be openly desired before, and I began to play with fire. Knowingly tease and taunt him, tell him little scenarios and fantasies to toy with him, but carefully keep him at arm's reach whenever things became too heated.

I wanted him. Oh god yes. And seeing him want me was beautiful agony. But I was so scared, and guilty at what I was doing with a married man who's wife I genuinely liked and children I adored. So I would tease him, a grazing caress here and there, but mostly a lot of bold, crude talk that left my cheeks aflame and his face red.

We never did kiss, or fuck. Nothing more than a few heated gropes and a lot of long looks and implications. He tried to get me to meet him while I was in college and he was in town - but I was a college girl by then, with a steady boyfriend. I knew if I met up with him I wouldn't be able to help myself and I'd fuck him right off. And probably come back for more. I turned him down, honestly. I told him I couldn't trust myself around him and that he shouldn't come. I hoped he'd come anyway, leaving me no more excuses. But he didn't.

A few years later I was in town visiting my family and ran into his wife. She asked if I'd mind coming over to watch the girls for old time's sake, since I did miss them, so she called her regular girl and I went in her stead. I picked them up from school and brought them home to find him there, cleaning the dining room, if you can believe it. I don't know what compelled me to do it, but I just walked in with a smirk and sat myself like a queen on the kitchen table, my feet on one of the chairs, and told him to vacuum that fucking floor and if there was one crumb on it when he was done he was going to hoover it up with his mouth on his hands and knees.

And by golly, he did.