The morning after we arrived, Mrs. Baumgartner came out and joined me on the beach. I was supervising the kids, who were busy making some sort of sand castle-really, it was more of a sand village, as it already spanned half the beach! What I was really doing was trying to read a Nora Roberts novel while simultaneously working on my nonexistent tan, but I was bored.

I was fifteen when I started babysitting for the Baumgartners. They had two kids. Henry and Janie were four and five the first time I sat in their living room eating pizza and watching “Lilo and Stitch” with them. I still remember them that way, both conked out on the floor, their greasy faces smearing their mom’s white carpet. Along the way there are over 14 sex scenes (depending on how you count: does soft-core or just masturbation constitute a sex scene in today's "vignettes only" Adult world?), mainly involving Sara. She is frequently the voyeuse, catching her employers making love, and instantly masturbating as a result. Before long she joins in, and it is the open marriage/menage a trois aspects of this story, adapted by Kay from a novel by Selena Kitt, that forms the central interest of the picture. On the one hand, this underlines Kitt's distance from romance — you don't get much more hardcore than the incest taboo, after all. On the other hand, though, the emotional content actually links up surprisingly well with traditional romance themes. In her groundbreaking and still foundational 1984 anthropological study of romance readers, "Reading the Romance," Janice Radway argues that romance narratives are essentially about women's relationships with their mothers. Using Nancy Chodorow's theories of female development as a basis, Radway says that women "require an intense emotional bond with someone who is reciprocally nurturant and protective in a maternal way." Yet in their families, Radway wrote, the romance readers she talked to were generally required to do most of the nurturing themselves; their husbands rarely took care of them emotionally. Romance novels, Radway said, presented a fantasy in which distant, cold men are revealed to actually have nurturing maternal qualities which the heroine brings to the surface. Romances, from this perspective, are incestuous dreams; Christian, in "Fifty Shades," is really, deep down, Anna's mother. Now I was really flushing. “I think you have a beautiful body. When I have two kids, I hope I can still wear a bikini out on the beach. And a micro one, at that!” Explicit romance like "Fifty Shades" tends to embed sex in characterization — the erotic is there as part of the tale of true love. But "Babysitting the Baumgartners" revels in its porniness; it has no qualms about presenting its characters as characters second and masturbatory aids first. One of the first set-pieces in the novel involves the babysitter Veronica (Ronnie), the narrator, stumbling upon her employers, Doc and Mrs. B, as they have sex. She secretly observes them as they fantasize about her.When Mrs. Baumgartner—who insists on calling her Veronica—invites Ronnie along on their yearly vacation, the nanny jumps at the chance. Brandt takes a pornographer's perspective to the material that is unfortunate. There are plenty of opportunities for conflict or confrontation, but if one starts, as porno people are wont to do, from a "sex is everything" and "repression of impulses is bad" point-of-view, then every chance encounter turns to full-blown passionate sex. Sara is seduced by the beautiful couple, but early on I was wary of their motives and expected something to happen. Other than a momentary sort of twist at the very end, not part of the film proper, nothing comes of their bringing Sara into their bed, other than a lot of sexual activity for us to watch. Find of the show is the unusual looking Katy Kiss, a very slim, flat- chested redhead who more than makes up for her physical departure from porn norms with an ebullient personality and genuine acting skill. Her screen mom is also a redhead, similarly "girl next door" look Edyn Blair. This has in itself been a staple of romance fiction, as Leslie Rabine points out in her much-lauded 1985 article "Romance in the Age of Electronics: Harlequin Enterprises." Moreover, Rabine argues, the conflation of work and romance is deliberately utopian:

She turned her face to mine, smiling at me. “Well, thank you for the compliment.” I saw her eyes move down over my breasts, and I was aware of how hard my nipples were.I loved babysitting for them. Mr. Baumgartner-”Call me Doc, everybody does”-usually came home drunk enough to pay me way too much for the night. Mrs. Baumgartner-she never said to call her anything but Mrs. Baumgartner, although I did shorten it to “Mrs. B” over the years-was very pretty and very nice and kept really good ice cream (Haagen-Dazs) in the freezer. They had a huge TV, an enormous house, and I became their regular babysitter every Friday night, sometimes Saturdays, too, all through high school.

Her writing embodies everything from the spicy to the scandalous, but watch out-this kitty also has sharp claws and her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths. One word: X-Box.” She adjusted herself, opening her thighs a little. I couldn’t see a hint of hair under the triangle of cloth between her legs and wondered at it. Her body was fuller than mine, more rounded and soft. “I won’t look. Don’t be shy.” Mr. B’s hand was warm against my side, just resting there. It made my breasts tingle, and I flushed when I realized I wanted her to touch them-to touch me. I wanted to close my eyes and my mind against the thought, but the blur of motion above drew my attention again. I knew I shouldn’t be watching, but I couldn’t help it. Wh-what?” I stammered. I was still staring. She smoothed oil over her belly, which was softer and a little more rounded than mine, working it under the strings of her bikini and down into the grooves of her thighs. I wish I still had the body of a nineteen-year-old.” She gave a sad little laugh. “So firm and tight. There’s not a crease or a wrinkle on you, is there?”

Megalomaniac (2023)

urn:oclc:record:1357507506 Foldoutcount 0 Identifier babysittingbaumg0000kitt Identifier-ark ark:/13960/s2m8c7sr39z Invoice 1652 Isbn 9781440431951 You deserve a good vacation.” She smiled, her eyes creasing at the corners. I wondered how old she was. It was hard for me to judge how old people were-to me, they just seemed either old or young. Mrs. B wasn’t really either. “It’s the least we can do.” If I can get a tan, that will be reward enough.” I grabbed the oil next to my towel and poured some into my hands. I worked more of it into my thighs and over my smooth, flat belly. I noticed her watching me. “Do you want some?”