Chapter 1
I was a little surprised when Michael's mom asked me to babysit; I'd known Mike and his mom for about four years, but this was the first time she'd asked me to look after him.
At 16, I'd been babysitting for a couple of years; back then it wasn't the most common thing for a guy to be doing, but it was usually pretty easy work, unless you got stuck with a real brat. I usually weeded out those families pretty fast; for a couple of bucks an hour per kid, I had no intention of dealing with anyone's hell spawn. I had a fairly steady set of families that would call me, and while I wasn't getting rich, I always had enough money that I could go out without having to worry about whether I'd be able to buy myself a burger or catch a movie.
Not that I actually went out a lot. I had turned into a pretty nerdy kid; skinny and pale, with oily skin and a steady crop of pimples. That left me open on a lot of Friday and Saturday nights, so if one of my families called, I was pretty much always available. While I didn't have a lot of friends, there were a few guys I'd hang out with; like me they were nerdy, so while our school mates were out at parties, drinking beer or smoking weed, we'd sit around someone's basement playing games or watching movies. To be honest, I had no real idea if that's what the other kids at school were doing, but I guess it's what imagined the so-called cool kids were doing, and I'd often overhear some of the guys talking in the locker room about how drunk they got or how some chick went down on them.
I figured most of it was just bullshit, but still, it wasn't like I was gonna share anything I'd done in a locker room full of guys. Not to mention that since we'd moved to another neighbourhood, my sex life consisted mostly of my right hand and a bottle of lotion I kept at the back on my nightstand drawer. There was this joke that went around school, that masturbation caused acne. Let me tell you, if I had to stop masturbating to clear up my pimples, then my face would never have been clear. And I doubted that those guys with the nice clear skin weren't tugging on their dicks every night.
While I tended to be somewhat shy around kids my own age, I got on pretty well with the kids I looked after when I was babysitting. My sweet spot tended to be between 8 and 12, although I did have a few families with kids a little bit younger and one with a 13 year old whose parents were over protective. No babies or toddlers though, I never felt as comfortable being responsible for anyone that young. I used to wonder why it was called babysitting when so many of the kids that got looked after were older than that. No wonder some of the older kids resented having to have someone stay with them. In any case, I typically didn't have any problems. I guess all those nights staying in and playing games had a pay off. Not that I played the same kind of games with them, but I'd quickly figured out that as long as you kept busy with them, you could keep them under decent control.
I didn't even mind the few that were bedwetters. You cleaned them up, got some fresh pyjamas and some fresh sheets on the bed. I never got mad at them or yelled at them. They were probably among the best kids I had; I think they liked that I didn't treat them differently or made them feel bad. I remembered wetting the bed a few times when I was younger, so I knew how they felt. I had an older brother, but he was more than six years older. He'd moved across the country to study after high school and it looked pretty certain he'd stay there for work after graduation. We'd never been particularly close, and maybe that's part of why I liked babysitting. It was kind of like being a big brother with a whole bunch of siblings. To be honest, there were plenty of nights where I probably had as much fun as the kids did; sometimes it made me feel a little guilty taking their parents' money, but not guilty enough that I ever refused. I might've been a lot of things, but I wasn't stupid.
The babysitting jobs that included spending the night were the best in terms of easy money. As long as the kids stayed in bed, you basically got paid to sleep for a night. Hell, on those nights I even got paid to jack off. Not that they knew that. The first few times I'd spent a night at somebody's house I didn't do it. It was somehow like they were going to know. Which they probably did; the fact that most teen boys beat their meat every night wasn't exactly a secret. I had a few close calls with kids getting up unexpectedly because they were thirsty or needed to go to the bathroom or whatever. As far as I know, none of them ever saw anything; if they did, I don't think any of them told their parents. I'm pretty sure that wouldn't have gone over well and would probably have been the end of my babysitting career.
Some of the dads had stashes of adult magazines, and a few even had some x-rated movies; at one place I even came across a vibrator. Yes, I snooped; once I felt really comfortable in a house, I wasn't above looking in closets and drawers. The hiding places were always pretty similar: in the bottom of a drawer or an inconspicuous box at the back of the closet. I wasn't into girls, but naked was naked, and that was enough to get me hard. Some of the raunchier magazines had couples engaged in sex, and the movies always seemed to feature guys who were hung beyond belief and came by the bucketful. I considered all of this as a real bonus to my babysitting gigs. There was something thrilling about doing it in someone else's house; new surroundings, the risk of getting caught and knowing you were doing something you weren't supposed to always made me feel extra horny.
As I said, I'd never formally babysat Michael before; Mike as he preferred to be called. Mike's mom was a friend of my mother's, so I had gotten to know Mike a little bit during those times when his mom visited our place. I first met him when he was 8; he had a small frame, slightly pale skin, pale blue eyes and an almost shockingly white-blond head of hair. Although shy when we first met, even at 12 I seemed to be able to relate well to younger kids and it wasn't long before he'd come with his mother and want to rough-house and play games.
Mike had his own older brothers, but like mine, they were older, and even at that age, no longer lived at home. From the bits I overhead from our mothers talking, they seemed like they were fairly rowdy and not above using their fists to get their point across. Mike, on the hand, came across as relatively gentle, and while he liked to play fight, he was never mean. His father wasn't around much; his parents were divorced and it sounded like he was an abusive alcoholic. Maybe that explained why Mike's older brothers had turned out the way they did, whereas Mike was very young when they split up and was raised mostly by his mom. Mike's mom had taken a new job, one that paid better, but required some evening and night shifts. I had come to think of Mike more as a friend or little brother, and it felt a bit odd that I was going to get paid to spend time with him. When she asked, it was actually the first time I'd ever said that I didn't need any money, but she insisted. In the end, it was actually my mother that told me to take the money; Mike's mom was proud to be independent and said that just because I knew them didn't make it alright to have me do this for free. I agreed, but told myself I'd use the money to treat Mike to some pizza or something. He was just shy of his twelfth birthday and I thought I could use the money to buy him a present.
We weren't exactly well off, but in comparison I'd had a relatively easy life. We didn't get a ton of presents for birthdays or at Christmas, and family vacations were rare other than the odd camping trip, but what we did get or do always meant a lot. I thought it might be nice if I could do something special for Mike. I think for the most part, his own brothers ignored him, and while my own hadn't ignored me because he was unkind, I knew what it felt like to mostly grow up like an only child. That first time looking after Mike was going to be an overnighter. In fact, Mike's mom was working a double shift, from Friday afternoon to Saturday morning. My mother thought maybe Mike should just stay at our place, not because they thought I wouldn't be responsible, but more to make it easier. I'm sure Mike wouldn't have minded a sleepover, but since I was being paid to look after him, I thought that I should treat it professionally. I pointed this out to my parents, and also told them that at his house he'd have all his things and his own bed, so he might be more comfortable with that. In the end they agreed, partly because of what I said and maybe partly because I'd been able to make a reasonable argument. I thought it would more fun that anyway; my parents weren't really strict or against having fun, but staying at Mike's we'd be able to really just kick back and do whatever. Even though I was going to treat it professionally, I still thought of Mike as more than just some kid I was going to look after, not that I didn't care about the others.
When Friday rolled around, I packed a bag with the things I was going to need and took it to school with me. The plan was to go straight to Mike's when classes were done, rather than going home first. That way I'd be at Mike's at about the same time as he'd be. Mike's mom had dropped off a spare set of keys earlier in the week so that I could go straight in if I happened to be there first. It made me feel good that she trusted me like that; there was only one other family for whom I regularly babysat that had given me a spare key to their house. I made sure that I never abused that trust, other than helping myself to the dad's porn while I was babysitting; it's not like I went into their home when the whole family was out.
For some reason I felt a nervous energy all day long at school; I couldn't figure out why as I was a pretty experienced babysitter and I already knew Mike. Maybe I felt some extra pressure because our mothers were friends and she'd hear about it if I did anything wrong. Not that I was expecting there to be any complaints; all the parents I sat for thought I was good with their kids, polite, and I didn't leave a mess in the kitchen or anything. I think in part I also wanted to do a really good job for Mike, to make it a special evening for him.
When the final bell rang, I rushed to my locker to put away my books and to grab my bag. I wanted to catch the first bus that I could so that I'd get to Mike's place in decent time. On the way out I ran into my friends.
"Hey, are you coming over tonight? We're going to play Risk and maybe watch a movie", Paul said as I passed him at the doors. "Sorry", I replied, "I've got a babysitting gig tonight. Maybe tomorrow night?"
Colin was about to say something when I heard a shout from my right, "Geez, maybe if you tried to get laid instead of babysitting you'd have less zits!"
This was immediately followed by a chorus of laughter. I didn't even have to look to know who it had been. Randy. My least-liked classmate since the sixth grade. One of the few guys I ever almost got into a fight with. Making fun of others was his and his crew's favourite pastime. For me, it was either my general lack of athleticism or my skin. I'd generally learned to ignore it most of the time. At least there'd never been anything physical, unless you counted getting tripped occasionally.
Fortunately I saw my bus pulling up to the stop, so I took off, simultaneously flipping him my middle finger and shouting that I'd call the guys tomorrow.
I hopped on, showed the driver my bus pass and found an empty seat near the front. This was my preferred section of the bus, at least when it came to taking the bus from school. The rowdier kids usually sat at the back, and I wasn't in the mood to be the butt of anyone's jokes.
As I sat I thought about what Randy had said. Not so much the part about getting laid; it was the never ending barrage of jokes about my acne. It wasn't like I didn't wash regularly and I'd tried pretty much every brand of creams and gels I could find; no matter what I did, there always seemed to be a fresh crop just waiting to come in. While I did do my best to ignore the comments in the moment they were hurled, it was in the quiet times, when I reflected on them that they hurt the most. Maybe it was yet another reason I got on well with the younger kids I babysat; the pre-puberty crowd didn't seem so focused on appearance yet. There were mornings I hated getting up and having to go to school.
I pulled a book out of my bag and began to read; I found if I focused on something else, then I didn't dwell on it.It probably wasn't the healthiest way to deal with it, but trying to avoid thinking about it was the best strategy I had so far. I was too timid to really stand up to anyone. In fact, Randy had been the only one I'd ever stood up to, once, near the beginning of grade six. I don't even remember why, I just remember handing my books to a friend and telling him that if he wanted to fight, then let's fight. He walked away, but I never had the nerve to do it again, to him or any of the others. I really couldn't explain why, but somehow I'd just sat back and accepted that this was how it was going to be.
I'd gotten through nearly a chapter of my book before my stop came up. My mood had improved again, and thinking about spending time with Mike made me feel even better. I walked the five minutes to their apartment building; Mike was already waiting outside the front door.
I waved at him, "Hey Mike!"
He smiled and shouted back at me excitedly, "Hi Martin!"
He hugged me and I tousled his tousled his hair.
"Haven't been waiting long have you? I came as soon as school let out."
"I've only been here a few minutes", Mike replied, "I walked home slow because I figured it might take you a bit to get here."
"Good thinking buddy", I said as I dug in my pocket for the keys to their apartment.
I unlocked the front door to their building and held the door open for Mike, following him in as he started bounding up the stairs. They lived on the third floor of the three story building, one of six identical buildings that made up this little complex. It wasn't fancy, but it seemed clean and pretty well kept. The buildings were arranged in two U-shapes, with three buildings making up each U, and each U had a small playground with a slide and some swings.
"Did you have a good day at school?" I asked as I unlocked their apartment door and stepped inside.
"It was okay", he said as he kicked off his runners and threw his little backpack through the door to what I assumed was his bedroom. I took a quick look at his room; it was a basic boys room: a tub with various toys and things in one corner, a set of drawers for his clothes and bunkbeds; since he was the only one using the room I assumed that one of the bunks got used when he had sleepovers with his friends.
"I guess you weren't carrying glasses in there?" I joked.
"Nooo, of course not", he replied while laughing, "that would be a dumb thing to do."
"Oh", I said, "and you're not dumb, right?"
"Right", Mike said, "I'm pretty smart y'know, I got a 100% on our math quiz today!"
"Hey, that's awesome Mike", I said and teased him a little, "next time I have a problem with my math homework I can just call you."
"Yah, right, I'm sure I don't know about the math that you're learning."
"I was just kidding Mike, but I do think it's great that you did so well! I do well at math too, so I guess that's something we're both good at."
"I'm hungry", Mike announced.
"Right", I said, "how about something as a snack now, and then a little later I'll order us a pizza. Would you like that?"
"Pepperoni pizza? I love pepperoni pizza", he said.
"Sure, pepperoni pizza, that's my favourite kind too!"
"Hey that's another thing where we're the same", he said excitedly.
I smiled at him, "I guess that's true."
I saw a bowl of apples on the counter and asked him if he wanted an apple and some peanut butter.
"Yep, that's good", he said as he walked into the living room and flipped on the TV.
I cut up a couple of apples and spooned some peanut onto the slices. I sat with Mike on the couch, and we ate the apple slices as we watched a show about animals. He seemed to know as much about the animals as the show's host.
"You sure know a lot about all these animals", I remarked.
"Yeah", Mike said, "I love this show, I watch it pretty much every day after school."
After we'd finished the snack and his show was done, I asked him if he wanted to play a game. He ran off to his room and came back with Checkers and set it up on the coffee table. We played several rounds, with each of us winning a relatively even number. He was good, and I realized that I didn't need to hold back in any way. After we played Checkers, he pulled out Snakes and Ladders, and we played several rounds of that as well.
Before we realized it, we'd been playing for nearly two hours, and we both decided it was a good time to order our pizza. The timing was good, as the pizza arrived just as the Dukes of Hazard started. We ate in front of the TV, with Mike commenting now and then about how cool it would be to jump a car like they did on the show. I had to agree that it did look like fun, but I doubted that a car could take those kind of jumps and rolls without sustaining any serious damage, never mind damaging its occupants.
We continued to watch TV, talking back and forth about whatever was on; Mike seemed to be enjoying himself, and I'd found that it was usually better to go with the flow when babysitting. Mike's mom had told me that his bedtime on a Friday was at 10, so at 9:30 I told him that he should start getting ready for bed. Like all kids, he protested, and I figured it wouldn't really hurt if he stayed up a bit longer.
"Tell you what, you brush your teeth and get ready, and then we can watch something else until 11, okay?"
"Okay!" Mike exclaimed and hopped up off the couch.
I cleared away the last couple of slices of pizza and the two cans of cola that we'd had. As far as dishes were concerned, it was a great night - we'd eaten straight out of the box, so other than tossing out our napkins and the empty cans, there was only the knife and plate I'd used earlier for the apples. I washed them and put them in the dish rack to dry, and then went to check on Mike to see how he was doing in terms of getting ready.
I walked out of the kitchen towards his bedroom. I got to his door just as he was pulling off his briefs, revealing his white little ass. I watched as he put on a pair of pyjama pants; they looked a bit tight on him and it was clear he was developing a cute little bubble butt.
He turned around, grinned and said, "Heyyy, are you looking at my butt?"
"Like I wanna see that dirty thing", I laughed, trying to hide that I was also slightly embarrassed at having been caught looking.
"Did you brush your teeth?"
"Yup."
"Pee? Wash your hands?"
"I know I gotta pee before bed, you don't have to remind me to do that, y'know", Mike said indignantly.
"Okay, okay", I said, and was about to tease about not wanting him to wake in a puddle of pee, but held back as I didn't actually know if he had a problem with bed wetting.
Mike rushed past me back to the living room and laid back on the couch. I followed and told him to move over to make room for me. He grinned and purposely spread his arms and legs to take up more space, so I reached down and tickled his sides. He curled up as he started giggling, and I quickly picked him up and tossed him to the other end of the couch before plunking myself down. "Heyyy, that was my spot", he said once he'd caught his breath.
"Tough", I replied, "it's my spot now."
He launched himself at me, and ended up sitting on my stomach, trying to hold my arms down.
"Okay, okay", I said, "how about we share?"
That seemed to satisfy him, so I sat up slightly and Mike settled himself between my legs, laying back against my chest. We watched TV like that for the next hour; I had one arm wrapped around his chest and my other hand laying at my side. I liked that Mike felt so comfortable with me; he was a good kid and I could easily imagine that if I had a younger brother, I'd want him to be a lot like Mike. I realized by the regularity of his breathing that he'd fallen asleep.
He had that distinctive boy smell to him; a mixture of soap and simple boy sweat, so unlike the heavy musky scent of an older teen boy. It might sound cheesy, but if innocence had a smell, then I thought this must be it. That though was momentarily interrupted when I looked down and realized that the front of his pyjamas were tented; it reminded me of the many innocent boy boners I'd had. I also realized that beneath the warm weight of Mike's body, a far less innocent erection was beginning to form. It was time to put Mike to bed.
I gently shook Mike and spoke softly into his ear, "Hey buddy, it's time to go to bed, okay? C'mon Mikey, let's get you to your room."
He slowly opened his sleepy eyes, and I lifted him to his feet as I got both of us off the couch. Mike walked in a light daze and was about to turn into his room when I asked him if shouldn't go to the bathroom again before laying down in bed. There was no snarky response this time, and I steered him towards the bathroom and turned on the stark light. Mike stood in front of the toilet, pulled down his pyjamas and was at least awake enough to point his still erect penis down so that his stream didn't splash everywhere, not that it would've been the first time I'd had to wipe a bathroom floor after putting boys to bed.
I felt a little guilty watching him pee; without really meaning to, I judged his erection to be between 2-1/2 and 3 inches. Unlike me, he was circumcised, with his perfectly pink mushroom head exposed. Mike was still too sleepy to take notice of me being able to see him, although I wasn't really sure whether he was already at that stage where boys became more self-conscious about their bodies. He shook his slightly softened penis, pulled up his pyjamas and turned to walk out.
"How about we wash your hands, okay?"
I steered him back to the sink, turned on the water and put the soap in his hands. I realized it was probably more than he usually did, boys being boys, but this was part of my so called professional babysitting code - always make sure they wash their hands after going to the bathroom.I dried them with a small towel and walked with him to his bedroom; I pulled back the blanket and he practically fell into his bed.
I covered him and gave him a hug, "Good night buddy, have a good sleep."
He mumbled something that might've sounded like an okay and appeared to be fast asleep before I'd even walked out and closed his bedroom door. I became aware of an urgent need for me to pee as well, not having gone to the bathroom since the afternoon school break.
Standing at the toilet, I opened my jeans, pushed them and my briefs down, and pulled my partly stiffened dick out. I sighed with relief as a near-torrent stream of pee shot into the bowl, mixing with Mike's un-flushed output. As I stood there, I reasoned that this was why I'd been partially erect while laying with Mike earlier, like that piss-boner I had every morning. At least that's what I wanted to believe. To be clear, I'd never done anything inappropriate with any of the boys I'd babysat. Of course I thought that most of the boys I babysat were cute, they all seemed somewhat cute at those ages. I'd never even considered them in any sort of sexual way, with the exception of the recently turned 13 year old that I was still asked to look after if his parents were going to be gone for the night. I hadn't done anything with him or to him, but I had to admit to myself that he had come to mind while masturbating at their house after his bedtime.
I pushed my dick back into my briefs and closed up my pants; I flushed, washed my hands and went back to the living room via the kitchen, grabbing another can of cola on my way. I also found an open bag of chips and brought those along as well. I laid back on the couch, opened the cola and started munching on the chips while I watched some more TV.
After an hour I got up and went to check on Mike; he was still in a deep sleep. I quietly closed his door again and went to other bedroom to grab a pillow and a blanket. Mike's mom had said I could sleep in her bed, but I felt weird about that; I never slept in parents' beds for any overnighters. I didn't really mind sleeping on the couch.
I took off my clothes and put on a pair of pyjama pants. At home I typically slept in my underwear, but when I spent the night babysitting I always had pyjama pants. It seemed somehow more professional than getting up in a pair of briefs, especially if parents were returning in the morning.
I laid back down and reached into my pyjamas; I gave myself a few slow strokes as I thought about a particular friend with whom I'd enjoyed a few hot times a couple of years ago. It never failed to get me rock hard replaying it in my mind. I slid down my pyjamas to give me unhampered access to my cock. It was the one part of my body that I felt really good about. It had grown to just over seven inches and was decently thick, surrounded by a tight bush of pubic hair. When I looked at myself in the mirror at home, it almost looked ridiculous on my tall, skinny frame.
I slicked back the skin so that the head was fully exposed; it was shiny and slick from precum that had been slowly building up. I let it run down the shaft and used it like lube to run my hand up and down it's length. I used two fingers to concentrate light rubbing just underneath the head; I had found that this was a particularly sensitive area and gave me shivering thrills that ran through my entire body. I started to get that familiar feeling of my balls contracting and getting tighter; I switched back to a slow stroke of the entire shaft in order to prolong my session.
For some reason, the story playing out in my mind suddenly shifted and I couldn't help but picture Mikey's naked butt when I'd seen him getting changed; I tried to change focus, but my brain kept turning back to the tight white flesh of his cheeks. I thought about stopping, but I had gotten so close to orgasm that I couldn't. My mind moved on to his standing in front of the toilet, peeing with his stiff little erection, the whole shaft and mushroom head a perfect pink. A low groan escaped my throat as my entire body stiffened and several long streams of thick white cum splattered up my stomach and chest. I continued to feel deep contractions in the depths of my groin as every last drop of cum spurted and flowed from the head.
My breathing slowly returned to normal as I took stock of the mess I had made on myself. I quickly grabbed my underwear off the floor and wiped myself so that it wouldn't run onto their couch and leave stains. It was the most intense orgasm I had experienced in a while, and I wondered whether that had anything to do with thinking of Mike. It was an embarrassing thought that a boy shy of twelve would have such an effect on me.
I got up, pulled up my pyjamas and stuffed my now wet briefs into the bottom of my bag. Laying back down, I pulled the blanket up and closed my eyes. I tried to sort out how I was feeling. I wanted to believe that they had just been random thoughts, kind of like the random scenes that had played out when I'd had wet dreams. It didn't want it to mean anything, but I fell asleep worried that it might.
I woke up the next morning when I heard the TV go on; I slowly opened my eyes and saw that Mike put on a Saturday morning cartoon. I must've gotten hot during the night because I could see that I had kicked off the blanket, which was now laying on the floor next to the couch. As I was taking up the entire couch, Mike had sat down on the blanket. I looked at him and realized that he wasn't watching the show, he was looking at me. Specifically, he appeared to be staring at the front of my pyjamas, which were tented out rather obscenely with my typical morning wood. At least the buttons on the fly had been done up, otherwise he'd be getting an eyeful of my erection.
I put my hands into my lap and tried to push it down as best I could; Mike looked at me and realized he'd been caught staring. He blushed several shades of red and quickly turned to watch his cartoon. I decided not to say anything; after last night I wasn't sure that this was a topic I wanted to get into with him at the moment.
"Morning buddy", I said as I got up off the couch and started walking towards the bathroom.
Mike didn't respond; either he hadn't heard me or more likely, he was too embarrassed to acknowledge me. I went to the toilet and stood there for a minute to let my erection soften enough that I could pee. I flushed, washed my hands and splashed some water on my face. In the mirror I saw my hair sticking out and a new zit coming in on my cheek. It seemed like whenever one went away, another one popped up somewhere else. I used some water to slick down my hair; there was nothing I could about the zit. I mentally chided myself for not having brought my face wash and acne cream, although I doubted it would've made a difference. I walked into the kitchen and asked Mike if he wanted some breakfast. He gave no reply, so I stuck my head out through the doorway; he was locked into watching the screen.
I started to walk into the living room, "Mikey, ohhh Mikey. Earth to Mikey, come in Mikey."
I heard a soft giggle, but he still hadn't turned to look at me. I sat on the couch in front of where he was sitting on the floor. I figured that I did need to say something after all, and decided to make it short and sweet.
"So listen Mike", I started, "I didn't mean for you to see me like that, y'know, when I woke up. It's just that, uhh, well it's just something that happens to boys my age when they wake up, it's really nothing to be embarrassed about, okay?"
He finally turned to look at me and started to say something, but stopped and blushed all over again.
He looked down at the floor while I spoke, "Look, it's okay, alright? I know you, uhh, saw it sticking ... well you saw it, but it doesn't matter. I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're worried about."
"Promise?"
"I promise. I would never get mad at you. It's something that you'll ... well, just trust me, you'll understand."
I thought about telling him that it would happen to him as well, that it had already happened last night when he fell asleep on me, but I thought that would just embarrass him all over again. I felt like I'd said enough for the moment.
"Now", I started, "how about something for breakfast? Cereal? Some eggs? Or ... I could make you some of my world famous pancakes!" Mike started chanting, "Pancakes. Pancakes. Pancakes."
I ruffled his hair as I got up, "Okay then, you watch your show and I'll make the pancakes."
Mike smiled at me and turned back to his show.
I wasn't necessarily the best cook, but I'd had plenty of practice making pancakes. I hadn't come across a kid I'd babysat that would say no to pancakes. The bonus was that I really liked them as well so it was a win-win. I hadn't actually checked to see if Mike's mom had all the ingredients I needed, but they were pretty basic. I had made the mistake of not checking on the ingredients only one other time and it turned into a bit of shit-show when I couldn't deliver the promised pancakes. But there they were: eggs, milk, flour, sugar and butter. I made the batter and started making them, keeping them warm in the oven as I went along.
In no time we were sitting at the small dining table next to the kitchen; I usually liked them with powdered sugar and lemon, but there were no lemons in the fridge. Syrup was fine with Mike, and I had a couple with some strawberry jam I'd found.
We were eating and talking when Mike's mom unlocked the door and came in.
"Hi Mom", Mike shouted, "Martin made me pancakes for breakfast!"
"Aren't you lucky", she said and added, "it sure smells good in here."
There were a couple left so I got up and got her a plate. It's not that I was trying to impress her with my manners, although truthfully it was something I sometimes did for my babysitting families, especially on initial overnighters. It never failed to impress and virtually guaranteed me their return business. In this case, she was my mom's friend and I figured after a night of working she might be hungry.
"Thank you Martin, this is very nice of you. And they taste so good, maybe you should consider becoming a chef." I laughed when Mike added, "Yeah mom, these are world famous y'know."
We finished breakfast and I helped Mike's mom clear the table while he went back to watching cartoons. I thought about telling him that he ought to help his mom, but I also that maybe it would be overstepping some boundaries. Maybe I'd save it for a time when he and I were alone.
I folded the blanked I'd used and laid the pillow on top, then I took my bag and headed to the bathroom to get dressed. I wet my hair a little more and combed it so that I wouldn't look completely scruffy on the bus ride home.
Back in the living room I told Mike that it was time for me to go home. He protested that I should stay, but I told him that now that his mom was home, it was also time for me to go home.
"Well ... when're you coming back then?"
"I guess that's up to your mother", I said, although there was no reason I couldn't make the effort to do something with Mike, whether I was babysitting him or not.
I didn't want to make any promises, so I didn't say anything about that.
Mike looked at his mother, "Sooo ... when can he come back Mom?"
"We'll see", she said, "once I know my upcoming work schedule we can see when I need him to come look after you."
Turning to me she added, "Assuming of course that you're okay with coming back? I didn't even ask you how it went. Was he good for you?"
"I'm not a baby Mom", Mike said.
"He was absolutely perfect", I said, "Mike and I had a good time together last night. Just call me when you need me, as long as I don't already have another job going on, I'll be happy to come back."
"That sounds fine Martin", she said, "later this week I should have a better idea of my schedule for the next couple of months, so maybe we can book you for a few evenings or nights well ahead of time."
"Great", I said and added, "okay well, I guess I'll get going. See you soon, okay buddy?"
"Okay", Mike said as he flung himself at me to give me a big hug.
I hugged him back; I could see his mom smiling at me as he went back to his shows and she walked me to the door.
"He really likes you, you know", she said, "other than me, he really doesn't hug other people much. I really hope we can work out a regular schedule for you to be here. I know he'd be thrilled and I'd like it as well. I know you're very responsible and to be honest, it would be good for Mike to have a good role model around. He's going to be twelve soon and well ... well, you know what that means. I just think having you around him and with him liking you so much, there are things that are easier for boys to talk about with, well, not their mothers?"
I was blushing from her glowing compliments, as well as where the subject of her talk had gone.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you Martin", she said as she noticed the colour of my cheeks.
"No, it's okay", I said, "I, uhh, well, I appreciate it all ... and uhh, yeah, everything else and all is fine too. So yeah, uhh, well I'll just wait for you to call then"
"Okay Martin, I will, and thank you", she said as she opened the door for me to let me out.
I was almost out when I dug into my pocket, "Oh uhh, here, I almost forgot to give you back your keys."
"You hang on to them, you can use them for next time", she said.
I stuffed them back into my pocket and thanked her. When I heard the door close and lock behind me I let out a deep breath. I slowly walked down the hallway and the stairs. I wanted to give myself enough time to let the heat out of my cheeks before I walked out and to the bus stop.