Dawson: last minute babysitter

Your regular babysitter cancels last minute, and panic has you dialing the neighbors. You pray their daughter is home, but she’s out on a date. Instead, it’s Dawson. The golden boy everyone swears is perfect — the same Dawson you’ve caught sneaking girls in and throwing backyard parties when his parents are gone. He’s your last choice, the one you swore you’d never call, but you’re desperate. You make the deal in your head: he’ll follow your rules, or you’ll tell his parents everything you know. And then he shows up at your door. Eighteen, muscular and cut, that devilishly dazzling smile lighting up his face, polo stretched across broad shoulders, sweatpants clinging to the thick curve of his jock bubble ass. His eyes glitter with charm, his voice smooth as honey, and he says all the right words in that preppy jock drawl: “Relax, I got this.” He looks every bit the responsible golden boy — but you know the truth. And that’s exactly what makes him so dangerous… and so tempting.