The Naked Sweetheart

She slouched on the sofa. Her head on one side and her legs on the other. She was scrolling reels. This one babysitting job had been really boring for Neeyati.

She was an NRI, a Non-Residential Indian. She had lived in New York all her life. She lived a a few kilometres away with her parents.

She had been a babysitter since long. She liked being with babies. And now, she had recently turned eighteen a few days ago.

The kid, Jacob was soundly sleeping upstairs. In his room. He was an infant. He couldn't even speak.

She sighed and put the phone aside.

Time to do the laundry. The Simpsons, the people who had gotten her for the job, had told her that she wouldn't be getting any visitors. Plus, she had to do laundry. And they'll be gone for the entire day and night and would most probably return the next morning. Jacob would mostly sleep the whole day. He had to be fed at six in the evening. And then he'd be asleep again.

So Neeyati didn't have much to do.

As she was taking laundry to the well, basement laundry, she got an idea! What about… the laundry washing clothes… all clothes?

She bit her lip.

It was five in the evening. There was still an hour left for feeding Jacob. The washing machine would take about half an hour. She could dry the clothes in another half hour.

There was no risk.

Nobody would be visiting the house. She was all alone.

But did she have the guts?

She stood there, in the basement. It was peak summer nevertheless. And she was already sweating. She was wearing a shirt, a bra, panties and a skirt. She looked around the basement. It was practically empty.

Her breathing ragged.

Her heart raced.

Could she? Should she?

And she said: "Fuck it!"

She removed her shirt and slipped down her skirts. It felt better. The heat was way too much. She bit her lip again.

Her breathing ragged.

She slowly unplucked the bra and put it in the pile of clothes. Even slower, she slipped down her panty.

And there is was. Butt-naked. Kilometres away from her house.

Once she put her clothes in the washing machine, there was no going back. She had no spare clothes since she had decided to return early the next morning.

She looked at herself.

Her boobs were relatively larger than her otherwise little body. Her nipples were dark. She was Indian. Her skin was very smooth and brown. Her nipples were darker. She looked at her pussy. Small, cute hair grew on it.

She blushed at herself.

She breathed deeply. Put the clothes into the machine. Her hands were shaking. Should she do it?

And she breathed heavily. Put her clothes in. Closed the lid. And walked away.

Her mind was racing.

Her legs shaking.

Her breath ragged.

She walked towards the bathroom in the corner of the room and got it. Resting by the door. She sighed. But as she realised the audacity of what she had committed. Her breathing ragged again.

"It's alright. It's alright. It's alright. It was the heat. It was due to the heat. Nothing else." She reassured herself. She looked at herself in the mirror.

She sure was beautiful. She had what people could say: the curves.

She moved out of the bathroom and walked out of the basement. The basement opened up in the side yard of the house. So basically, she had to run to the front door. While should be completely exposed to anybody.

Her breathing staggered again.

She peeked out of the door.

There was nobody. She kept peeking for almost ten minutes. And then she made her way out. Hiding her boobs with one hand and her pussy with the other she ran off to the front gate. She looked around. Nobody was looking. She opened the door. Got in. And whammed the door shut!

And she sighed a sigh of relief as she sat down by the door.

She moved around the house then. Shaking all the while. She looked at herself in the mirror multiple times. Within sometime, she was able to walk without shaking. Without covering herself.

And then she got an idea!

Her headphones.

She took her headphones and walked to the room of Jacob. The infant was still sleeping. Sleeping in that cage-like toddler-bed, whatever it is called.

She sighed a sigh of relief.

She put on her headphones. She was going to dance. And dance she did! She jumped up and down, sang to an invisible audience, moonwalked (despite not knowing how to), did the SRK pose, and whatnot. She danced and danced and danced.

And her dance was interrupted when suddenly she heard a cry. She stopped.

Sweat was all over her body. It trickled between her breasts. Off her face. On her chest. Her stomach was wet. Her butt-hole and her thighs as well.

She panted. Her hands by her side. Her removed the headphones and put them on the bed as she approached the infant.

She had forgotten by now that she was naked. She looked at the clock. It was 5 o'clock!

The laundry must've been done already. She bit her lip. Blushing as she looked at Jacob.

The infant. Who was crying. Instantly stopped crying as she came in view. He started at her.

She giggled, blushing deeply.

"You're a lucky man to get this view, Jacob!"

She sighed happily.

She was finally feeling alive.