Maybe if we can break down a few more barriers...

Sharing a bathroom with Charissa had definitely taken things to a new level of intimacy. I felt I could keep the momentum moving so long as I didn't push too hard or too fast. (I'll admit to several fantasies of pushing both hard and fast... But I tried to keep those in check.)

That night, I was pleased that Charissa was up for more Game of Thrones. We'd seen the last couple episodes of Season 3 together (no nudity!), and she was looking forward to starting Season 4 right away. Now, inveterate perv that I am, I'd done a little bit of homework about this episode in advance and had geared myself up for a little plan while we watched.

About ten minutes into the episode, Oberyn and Ellaria visit Littlefinger's brothel and browse the sock for an appropriate mate. The first girl they examine is "too timid."

But the second, played by the voluptuous Josephine Gillan, is vital and charming.

As usual, Charissa had gone silent during the nudity, but I uncharacteristically spoke up. "Which do you think is hotter?" I asked.

"What?" she said, startled.

"I mean, which one do you think they'll end up with?"

"Oh, gosh, I don't know," Charissa said, looking down and giggling. "I guess the one with..." She fell silent.

"Yes? The one with..."

"Well, I guess the one with the bigger... You know."

"The bigger boobs?"

She giggled again. "Yeah, that's what I mean."

By now, it was clear in the episode that she was right. "You nailed it," I said. "Boobs are always a good bet!" Charissa smiled but didn't say anything. Now was the time for my gamble. "Of course, boobs aren't everything." She didn't say anything. "They both had great skin, awesome hair. And of course, they were shaved."

"Seth!" she protested, and even though my basement was fairly dark, I could tell that she was blushing.

"Well, hey, it's not my fault they were shaved! The show is just reflecting the presumed aesthetics of its audience. And lots of Americans--men and women, by the way--prefer a nice trim down there."

"You know, I..." she started, but quickly fell quiet.

"Yeah?"

"Oh, nothing. I just. What I mean is I never really thought about it. I mean. For myself, I mean."

"Really? Never?" I asked innocently, trying to be as nonchalant as possible with my eyes glued to the TV.

"Oh, well, I guess not never. It's something that Jason talked about. But like I said before, I didn't want to do that stuff with him."

"Aha," I said. "Well, let me give you some unsolicited advice. You should only do something like that because you want to. If you want to feel chic and sexy then you should do it. But don't do it just to please someone else."

She stayed quiet for a minute as Daenerys Targaryen stroked her dragon. "You know," she said suddenly. "I never thought of it like that."

"Like what?" I asked.

"You know, like, shaving because I might want to. Because of the way I might want to look. And feel."

"Well, if you wouldn't mind some more unsolicited advice, I'd say to go for it. I mean, what the hell? See how it feels and if you don't like it, you can grow it back. But at least you'd have given it a try."

More silence. By the time Daario Naharis and Grey Worm were competing for Daenerys' affection, it was clear that our conversation had ended.

After the episode, we said good night as usual and I left the basement. I loitered on the stairs leading to my bedroom until I heard Charissa make her way to the kids' bathroom to brush her teeth. (She was only showering in my room; her other supplies were still downstairs.) As I'd done a couple times before, I snuck down into the laundry room while she was doing her nightly ablutions, and I waited for her to return to her bedroom.

I tiptoed silently across the basement carpet and was hoping to once again hear the thwak thwak thwak of my babysitter masturbating after a titillating TV show. But tonight was different. Usually, I couldn't see anything through her cracked bedroom door since the bed was against the same wall as the door. But when I peeked in tonight, I saw her standing in front of the mirror, her pajama pants and panties around her ankles, examining her pelvis in the mirror. She touched her wild pubic hair, smoothed it back, tried to cover it with her hands, all while training her eye on herself. I had a hunch she'd never really looked at herself before, and she was obviously thinking about what I'd said.

Of course, I was in heaven with a view of Charissa's magnificent ass and her reflected pussy all in the same view. I was slowly stroking myself, enjoying this show even more than Game of Thrones.

Then, to top matters off, I watched as she kicked her PJs and panties to the side, opened her top drawer, and pulled out her trusty dildo. She flopped into bed and out of sight, but I was eager to hear those familiar pants and heaves as she fucked herself. Was she thinking of those women in Game of Thrones? Imagining how things might have gone with Jason? Or, could there be a chance that she was actually fantasizing about me? Would there come a day when I might find myself on the other side of that door? Just the thought of it almost made me blow my load, but I held it together long enough to hear Charissa climax. I pushed myself back in my pants just in time to catch my cum as I came along with my babysitter, both of us releasing a day's worth of very intense pressure.

I crept upstairs and hopped in the shower. And while I rinsed the jizz off my thighs, I couldn't help but fixate on Charissa's razor, dripping wet and waiting for the morning.