My first semester at university was going great. I was doing well in my classes, had made a few friends on campus and was living rent-free as a part-time nanny for just about the sexiest man I could imagine. I was one smitten kitten and I adored the way Bill, my employer and my lover, enjoyed being in my company, enjoyed hearing me share my thoughts and stories, and of, course, the way he enjoyed my body.
I'd moved into the little apartment attached to Bill's house at the end of August and in return for rent and utilities I watched Bill's boys a few afternoons and an evening or two each week. It was an unexpected perk of the job that Bill and I had clicked on deeper level. It was a complete surprise that almost immediately we had consummated our relationship with what I considered incredible sex. Our relationship, although unconventional, had grown stronger over the successive weeks. We made love often, almost daily and I'd found a lover who challenged me, pushed my boundaries and always made me cum. We hid our growing attachment from the boys, but took advantage of the time we had together in every way possible. I had been a sexually charged, but relatively naïve, 20 year old when I'd moved in. Now I was able to augment what had been my daily video and masturbation routine with the reality of living with a lover who wanted to touch me as much as I loved to touch him. I lived with a man who couldn't keep his talented hands from hips, from breasts or my ass. I walked around in a near constant fugue, alternating between longing and satisfaction as I yearned for Bill and then captured him whenever the boys were out and a spare moment allowed.
It was the week of Thanksgiving break when our relationship changed. Bill and I had been very circumspect. In front of the boys we never let on that there was anything between us other than the concerns of a caring father and conscientious nanny. I'd kept our involvement to myself and hadn't told my girlfriends at school about my unique arrangement. I certainly hadn't told my parents. Even my sister, in whom I confided almost everything, was in the dark about my relationship with Bill. For his part Bill was content to keep our relationship quiet, as well. For one thing, he taught at the university I attended. Although I'm sure he wasn't the first professor to sleep with an undergrad I'm sure it wouldn't have helped his career to broadcast that he was, almost daily, banging his nanny. He was also very protective of his boys and I think he was worried that they wouldn't understand our developing connection. Finally, he was still finalizing his divorce. To admit to taking a lover, even though his wife had left him with a house and two boys to take care of for a high paying job in the city, could have complicated what I know he hoped would be a quick and relatively painless legal process. I expected we would keep our relationship quiet. I honestly didn't know where it would lead. I just didn't want it to end.
The week of Thanksgiving was short for me. I had classes Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday I drove an hour home and saw my family and friends. Bill's boys were off to their mother's new apartment in the city for the week, so I was clear of nanny duties, as well. On Wednesday morning, before I left for home, Bill and I were lying next to each other in his big king-size bed. We were naked and had just made love. I felt slow and languorous. I'd come hard from riding him as he lay on his back and now, as we lay next to each other, I stroked his chest as his fingers played with my wet pubic hair and lips as his cum dripped out of me a little. I could have stayed there forever enjoying the afterglow.
"What are you going to do all by yourself?" I asked him.
"I'll drive over to brother's house tomorrow," Bill said. "I'll be back on Friday evening."
"I think my mom wants me home for the whole weekend," I sighed. "I'd rather be back here with you."
"We'll be back together soon enough," said Bill, "And I might not let you out of this bed 'til the boys come knocking on the door."
I laughed as he said that. My laughter turned to a moan; however, as his wet fingers moved from my sex to draw a moist circle around one nipple. He replaced his fingers with his tongue and my sensitive nipples shot a jolt through my belly making me even wetter and hotter than I'd been. I rolled on my back and felt Bill enter me and push as deep as he could go. I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him into me as tightly as I could holding him in my as hard and long as possible until he came again and I had to get up and shower for the drive home.
I enjoyed my visit home, but the time dragged. Despite my family's wishes I had a plan to get back to Bill's house on Friday before he arrived home from his brother's. I wanted to take advantage of the weekend without the boys and see if Bill would make good on his promise to keep my in his bed for the entire weekend. At dinner and during the after dinner football viewing extravaganza my mind wandered. My nipples, always sensitive topping my pert C cup breasts, threatened to stiffen at the worst moments. At one point my 18-year-old little sister caught me daydreaming, my nipples hard as rocks as I ran my fingernails over my jeans clad thigh under the Thanksgiving table. Her hot breath whispered in my ear, "I wonder who you're thinking about." I didn't confess, but to my mother's dismay I left home by midday one Friday.
When I arrived back at my apartment I immediately began to put my plan into action. Standing in my little hallway in front of the full-length mirror I stripped down to just the little white thong I was wearing. I hadn't been tanning as much as I had last summer and my skin was paler than when I'd first moved in. The light color accented my eyes and darkening hair, however, so I wasn't disappointed with losing some of my tan. I stood on my tiptoes and as always wished I was a little taller than 5'4". My calves and legs were lean though and my stomach and hips had just the right amount of roundness to look feminine. I'd never been a stick and Bill loved my just-a-little-too-big hips. I loved when he grabbed them and pulled me into his hard-on. My boobs looked big on my frame and my nipples hardened in the air. I few wisps of pubic hair from my little triangle escaped from my thong. No problem there, I was going to give Bill a surprise and shave everything clean today.
I started the shower and as it began to steam up the bathroom I lit a small joint I'd bummed off of a high school friend I'd seen when I was home. As I began to buzz a little I let my fingers roam over my body. Pot always makes me horny and I felt warm and easy as I massaged my breasts and dragged my fingernails over my bottom. I bent over and reached behind me, grazing my fingers across my lips and over the crack of my ass. I let myself play with my anus for a moment. I didn't put a finger in or anything. I'd never really had any experience with anal play, but I thought that if Bill wanted to maybe we could explore it. It was supposed to be every man's fantasy. Slowly I made my way to the shower where I washed my hair and body. I shaved everything twice, legs, armpits and my pubic area until I was sure I was smooth and put on moisturizing lotion that smelled like honey.
Still a little high I sat naked on my bed and snapped a few photos from an angle above my head. I was happy with the third one, which showed my hair and neck and a good amount of cleavage. With a quick, "Guess who?" I sent it to Bill and hoped for a prompt reply.
In less than a minute my phone buzzed and I read Bill's reply, "Who is this?" and then a quick "LOL. Damn I miss you."
I smiled and lay back on top of my covers. My breasts jiggled as a flopped down and I covered them with my left hand while I held the phone between my parted legs and snapped a shot of my newly bare sex. "This misses you," I sent back. I'd never sent such an intimate picture before. I'm not sure what made me do it, but I felt hot and wet and was becoming desperately horny. If I didn't get up and do something quickly I'd spend the whole afternoon masturbating and never get anything done.
With a shake of my head and a longing tweak on my nipple I got up, put my hair up in a quick bun and grabbed the shirt Bill had worn on Tuesday and had left in my room that night. It smelled like him and I breathed deeply as I buttoned up the blue oxford. It was a long on me and covered most of my bare bottom. I didn't plan on wearing anything for very long once Bill got home, so I figured I was dressed enough for a few chores.
I made my way down to the kitchen and started pulling ingredients from the fridge and cupboards. I'm a good cook and planned on serving Bill a surprise dinner when he walked through the door later that afternoon. With a glass of wine and my music blaring I happily banged away with pots, pans and a handful of kitchen gadgets. I felt sexy and at home as I worked, half-naked, in the kitchen and imagined living openly with Bill, imagined this as my kitchen, imagined that the counter he had pushed me up against, that we'd had sex on last week was my counter. I was so lost in thought that I think I screamed when a voice, an angry, female voice, snapped from behind me, "Who, the fuck, are you?"
"What?" I whirled around and found myself face to face with a woman I knew from pictures, but had never met. It was Elise, Bill's soon-to-be ex-wife. Angular, severe and angry looking she glared at me in what she probably thought of as her kitchen. What was she doing here? Where were the boys? I slapped the music off on my phone.
"I said, who the fuck are you?"
"I'm Adrienne. I'm the nanny." I blushed and stammered. I must have looked ridiculous, the nanny basically nude in her husband's shirt dancing in her kitchen.
"Well, Adrienne," Elise's voice was sarcastic, "Since the boys are with my mother who exactly are you nannying? Where's Bill?"
"He's at his brother's house." I answered meekly. This couldn't be good. Bill hardly ever talked about his wife. He was openly supportive of her to the boys of course, but had been essentially silent about her to me. I knew she had been a talented and ambitious manager who had left Bill, a writer and college instructor, for a high paying executive job in the city. I knew he had been deeply hurt when she left. Confronted by her now, I was at a loss.
"Listen, nanny," Elise said, " I've got papers for Bill to sign. I want them signed quickly."
