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I Fucked The Nanny While My Kids Were Asleep Upstairs

My wife was out of town for the week, and the nanny was wearing a skirt so short I could see everything.

Disclaimer: This article contains adult themes and sexual content, including tasteful erotic images. It is intended for mature readers only. Please continue only if you are 18+ and comfortable with mature content.

I took her from behind, watching my cock slide in and out of her wet pussy, watching her ass bounce against my hips. She reached back and grabbed my hand, pulled it to her clit.

But hold on lemme get to the gist of it, something I’m not proud of though.

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Her name was Olivia, she’d been working for us for about eight months, ever since my wife Sarah went back to work full-time. Olivia was twenty-two, a college student studying early childhood education, which made sense — she was amazing with the kids. My daughter Lily, who was six, adored her. My son Max, four, would cry when she left.

I’d noticed her the first day she came for the interview. Blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, bright blue eyes, a smile that made you feel like you were the most important person in the room. She wore these little sweaters and jeans, nothing flashy, but she had this energy about her that was hard to ignore.

But I’m a married man, I have two kids and I love my wife. So I pushed it down, kept things professional, and never let myself think about her in that way.

Then Sarah got called to a conference in Chicago. Five days. I told her not to worry, I’d handle everything. She arranged for Olivia to come by after her classes, help with dinner and bedtime. Standard stuff.

Day one was fine. Day two, I started noticing things I shouldn’t have. The way Olivia’s yoga pants hugged her ass when she bent down to pick up Max’s toys. The way she bit her lip when she was concentrating on homework at the kitchen table.

Day three, she showed up in a skirt.

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It was navy blue, denim, and it barely reached mid-thigh. When she walked, the hem rode up. When she sat on the couch to read Lily a story, I could see the inside of her thighs. She wasn’t wearing tights.

I tried not to look. I tried my best.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, setting her bag down. “I had a presentation today. Didn’t have time to change.”

“It’s fine. The kids are in the living room.”

She smiled at me, that same smile. “Thanks for being flexible.”

I nodded and went to my home office, closed the door, and tried to get work done. But I could hear her voice through the walls, reading with funny voices, making the kids laugh. I could picture her cross-legged on the floor, that skirt riding up.

Stop it, I told myself. She’s twenty-two. She works for you. She’s practically a kid.

But she wasn’t a kid. She was a grown woman. And I was a grown man who hadn’t been touched in a very long time, with a wife who was a thousand miles away, and a nanny in my living room wearing a skirt that was basically a belt.

Bedtime came. I helped Olivia get the kids settled — teeth brushed, stories read, lights out. By eight-thirty, both of them were asleep.

Olivia came downstairs and poured herself a glass of water. “They were good tonight.”

“Lily’s been asking when you’re coming back tomorrow.”

“She’s sweet.” Olivia leaned against the counter, and I caught myself staring at her legs again. “Do you need me to stay later? I can, if you want.”

“No, you’ve done enough. Go home, get some rest.”

She didn’t move. She just looked at me, and there was something different in her eyes. A question.

“I should probably tell you something,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been thinking about you. A lot.” She set her glass down. “I know it’s weird. I know you’re married. I know this is probably a bad idea.”

“It is a bad idea.”

“Probably.” She took a step closer. “But I can’t stop thinking about it. About you.”

My heart was pounding. I could smell her perfume, something floral and clean. I could see the outline of her nipples through her shirt.

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“This is a bad idea; we shouldn’t,” I started.

“The worst idea,” she finished. “I know.”

And then I kissed her.

She tasted like mint and something sweet. Her hands went to my chest, gripping my shirt, pulling me closer. I pushed her against the kitchen counter, and she hopped up, wrapping her legs around my waist.

“I’ve wanted this for months,” she whispered. “Every time you walked past me. Every time you said my name.”

“Liv — “

“Don’t think. Just fuck me.” I froze because I wasn’t expecting her to be this bold. but well…

I slid my hands up her thighs, under that skirt. She wasn’t wearing underwear. come to think of it was she planning this all along all this while?…

“Jesus,” I breathed.

“Told you. I’ve been thinking about this.”

I found her wet, hot, ready. I pushed two fingers inside her pussy, and she gasped, her head falling back.

“Fuck, yes.”

I worked my fingers in and out her pussy while I kissed her neck, her collarbone, the top of her breasts. She was moaning, trying to be quiet, remembering the kids upstairs.

“We have to not make a sound,” I said.

“Then shut me up.”

I pulled my fingers out and unzipped my pants. My cock was hard, aching. I lined myself up and pushed into her, slow, watching her face.

Her eyes closed. Her mouth opened. She bit her lip to keep from crying out.

“Good?” I asked.

“So good. Don’t stop.”

I fucked her on the kitchen counter, slow and deep, trying to keep the noise down. The counter creaked. She gripped my shoulders, her nails digging in.

“I’m close,” she whispered. “Don’t stop, don’t stop”

I pressed my thumb against her clit, rubbing in circles while I thrust, and she came with a shuddering gasp, her whole body tensing around me. I kept going, chasing my own release, and when I felt her relax I let myself go, pulling out and cumming on her stomach.

We stayed there for a minute, breathing hard. She looked down at the mess on her skin and laughed, quiet.

“Worth it,” she said.

“We’re not done.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

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I pulled her off the counter, turned her around, bent her over the kitchen table. She looked back at me, grinning.

“Round two?”

“Round two.”

We were quieter this time. Slower. I took her from behind, watching my cock slide in and out of her wet pussy, watching her ass bounce against my hips. She reached back and grabbed my hand, pulled it to her clit.

“Again,” she said. “Make me cum, please.”

I did. Then I came again too, inside her this time, because condoms weren’t exactly something I kept in the kitchen.

After, we cleaned up in silence. She put her skirt back on, fixed her hair.

“Same time tomorrow?” she asked.

“Same time tomorrow.”

She kissed me on the cheek. “Don’t feel guilty. I won’t.”

She left. I went upstairs, checked on the kids — still asleep, thank god — and lay in my empty bed, staring at the ceiling.

I told myself it was just this week. Just this one time.

I knew I was lying.

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