Ch. 26: The Nanny from Hell gets a Good Licking
Mrs. Nguyen put on her worn-out nightgown and disappeared downstairs to her guestroom. Her nightie was so thin that I could make out the crack of her ass shifting from side to side as she wiggled off down the hall. There I was, left with a messy desk, a sticky dick and a pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen. I tidied up my office and got rid of all the paper littered with shot spots from my desk. As I was on my way to tackle the kitchen, Mrs. Nguyen popped back up from the basement, dressed in a short leather skirt and low-cut blouse. You can take a hooker out of Saigon but sheâs still a hooker.
âI go see friend with
bi-da
parlour. She have money me. Then I no bother you and Chinese lady you. One this thing I say. Ăng Paul give Vietnamese lady me good fuck. You best banana in Canada or Vietnam.â
With that, Mrs. Nguyen produced a wet kiss that smeared her garish red lipstick on my cheek. Then she let herself out. I think she said something in her fractured English that approximated âciao, babyâ as she closed the door.
With Mrs. Nguyen out of the way, I surveyed the kitchen. Fortunata, our new nanny, ordered me to wash the breakfast dishes before she got back with the kids. Well, Melinda hired this ugly bitch, not me. Maybe beauty is only skin deep but Fortunata was ugly through and through. OK, badmouthing the new nanny doesnât get the dishes done. Mrs. Nguyenâs breakfast just added to the huge pile. I was torn between my duty to take care of the mess in the kitchen and my duty to hide evidence that Iâd just fooled around with Mrs. Nguyen.
The sound of water running downstairs resolved my dilemma. I couldnât rinse dishes while Vanessa, our other houseguest, was having a bath, could I? Besides, dirty dishes arenât âevidenceâ of anything much in particular. Lipstick and a sticky dipstick certainly is evidence leading to divorce. I decided that that the dishes could wait but a nice shower was a priority. Iâd rather face Fortunataâs wrath than Melinda packing up and leaving with the kids in tow.
I got out of the shower and fumbled for a towel to dry myself. As the steam in the bathroom cleared and the soap in my eyes stopped stinging, I became aware that there was a Filipina squatting on the toilet lid. My other houseguest, Vanessa Reyes a.k.a. the Nanny from Hell, was awake. Vanessa was clad in just an XL T-shirt and she had it pulled up over her knees, hiding her boobs in the space between her knees. By confronting me in the shower, did Vanessa have something else on her mind than brunch? Unfortunately, she did.
âWell, well. If it isnât my old employer caught naked with just his old nanny in the house. Now isnât this a compromising situation? Pay careful attention, Paul, because Vanessaâs in control now. You just stand where you are and listen to me or else Iâll claim rape. Iâll tell everyone you tried to pick up where you left off three years ago when you were screwing me behind Melindaâs back. I trust you understand the scandal that would result in.â
Vanessa had me where she wanted me, no doubt about that. I could already see the tone of the headlines in those newspapers at the supermarket checkout: âMiddle-aged White Canadian Male Forces Himself on Young Single Mother from Philippines. Again!â Vanessa half-smiled at gaining the upper hand and continued her monologue.
âIâm not the same submissive little Vanessa you thought I was when I was your nanny. No more shy, simpering little Filipina appearing to live only to please her exploitive masters. Your countryâs Nanny Program makes us nannies nothing more than indentured labourers and sexual playthings for you Canadian white men. But I got even with you. While you were away on business and probably taking advantage of some other poor Filipina, I was getting it on with Melinda. Yes, you fucked me behind your wifeâs back but I fucked your wife behind your back. Your Melinda is AC/DC, Iâm a dyke and youâre just a despicable adulterous nannyfucking male.â
I had always suspected that something went on between Melinda and Vanessa. Now it was coming out of Vanessaâs mouth in the way she knew it would hurt me the most. Vanessa had taken advantage of Melinda and had a lesbian encounter with her. I donât think I was as shocked as I might have been. I must have admired Melindaâs good taste in lovers. They definitely made dykes differently in the Philippines. Your average white lesbian looks like a truck driver in drag. Vanessa was a feminine and graceful Filipina. She still retained that tight, delicious brown body that I poked for a full six months when Melinda was pregnant. I could even call her beautiful, if only she would lighten up and smile a bit.
Yet, Vanessa had changed more than her âlifestyleâ in two years. Something had changed that I found slightly menacing. I wasnât uncomfortable with Vanessaâs ball-busting attitude. She reminded me of a kinder and gentler Fortunata. No, there was something that had changed about her soft Malay features and it made her look hard. It went beyond the scowl that marred Vanessaâs sensuous lips. Then, it dawned on me that Vanessa had stopped plucking her eyebrows. Her eyebrows had grown back and now were knitted in a simian line, like a
yakuza
in a crummy Japanese gangster flick. No, it was more like the ape with a zipper in King Kong Meets Godzilla. I was positive now that I was right about this vindictive woman. Vanessa was the Nanny from Hell. There was nothing I could do but stand there and take it.