The Black Nanny Pt. 01

The Black Nanny

Finally, finally he entered me. He had spent a good twenty minutes between my legs, licking me. I loved it when Michael, my husband, pampered me like that. His tongue was so nimble and sensitive that he effortlessly brought me to climax again and again, nearly driving me wild. I writhed beneath him, ran my fingers through his hair, lifted my bottom off the sheets, moved to meet him, took him in as deep as possible, wrapped my legs around him and constantly urged him on: "Yes, darling, lick me, do it to me, I love you!"

Finally he lifted his head, lips and chin smeared with my juices, and grinned: "So, are you ready?"

I could only nod frantically and spread my legs even wider than I already had. With a husky voice I gasped as he straightened up: "Yes, yes, impale me, give me your cock!"

And then he did what I loved so much -- he entered me, very slowly, never taking his eyes off me. Our gazes locked and I moaned with pleasure as I felt his glans spreading my lips and pushing into the hot, slick channel. Intense shivers ran through me and I pulled my legs up, dug my heels into his firm arse and pulled him towards me: "Yes, yes, fuck me, Michael, come on, give it to me!"

He buried his face between my large, somewhat soft breasts -- after all, I was 42 -- and began thrusting really hard. Very quickly we were both sweating, getting louder and louder, and he was panting heavily too, grunting now and then with pleasure.

Although we had been married for fifteen years, the sex still worked quite well between us. Sure, it had become less frequent over time, but we definitely made love at least once a week, sometimes more often.

We didn't experiment as much as we used to, and we no longer visited clubs like we had done in our wild days. Back then it could happen that we'd shag all night with other partners -- I with women too -- and then, at the end, have the ultimate fuck with each other, either still at the club or in the car or at home in bed.

It was Michael who suggested we stop doing that. He had fallen in love with a woman he'd met there and had hooked up with her a few times in hotels to have sex. Thank God he was smart enough to confess this to me, and since then I love him even more than before. So from then on we only made love at home, and I believe he was faithful to me too.

I was almost faithful to him too, except for a little lesbian affair I have with one of my friends, Jane.

We meet at her place or mine when the children are at school, and we make love in an incredibly tender and pleasurable way. I wouldn't want to give up these encounters, and I haven't told Michael about them. For me, this doesn't count as cheating--after all, Jane doesn't have a penis, just an incredibly sensitive tongue that she uses to lick my entire body, absolutely everywhere. She does things he simply can't manage, which is why I have no intention of giving up this relationship. Just thinking about how her lips glide over my anus makes my knees go weak.

But as I said, otherwise we only have sex at home now, and enough of it to satisfy us.

By then we were both close to climaxing and I gasped, 'Come on, come in my mouth, I want to taste you again, come on, hurry!'

'Oh yes,' he moaned. I knew how much he loved that, so I opened my mouth wide and he moved up, knelt over my breasts and stroked his wet cock until he came. That triggered my own climax, and while I swallowed his semen, spasms raced through my body, shaking me completely--what a dream!

*******

"Wow!" Michael groaned as he stretched out beside me, one hand carelessly resting on my breast. "Why don't we do this more often?"

I laughed: "Because you've already become an old, lazy sod, and nowadays it takes you a week before it's full again with your delicious seed!"

As I did so, I clicked my tongue appreciatively and gently pinched his soft cock.

He threw himself on me in mock indignation, squeezed between my thighs and cried: "What? I'll show you who's old! Come on, let's go again right now!"

Giggling, I fended him off: "Michael, stop it. We need to sleep and get up early tomorrow morning. Have you forgotten? Seven o'clock, airport?"

He rolled off me with a sigh: "Yes, yes, I know, Jenny's coming!"

I caressed him tenderly: "Exactly, we have to postpone this, but not for long, I promise. I want to have much more sex with you too, my darling!"

"Yes, but that won't be so easy when the little one is sleeping in the next room!"

"Oh come on, the 'little one' is twenty-one, she's probably had sex herself by now. Do you think that bothers her? We'll just have to be a bit quieter than usual, but that's all. You don't really think I'm going to give up sex for half a year just because we have a nanny in the house!"

Well then, come here, let's go to sleep!

We assumed our usual spooning position -- him behind me -- and turned off the light. Before falling asleep, I thought once more about the upcoming visit. Jenny, the au pair from the USA, whom we had selected through a lengthy process involving hours of Skype conversations.

It was Michael's idea. One evening, we were already in bed, when he said: 'Listen, I think Betty -- our 14-year-old daughter -- should have a nanny. You know, a girl who would look after her, take her to school and so on!'

For a moment I stared at him in surprise: "So, you're not satisfied with my work as a mother?"

'Oh come on, that's nonsense! Of course you're a fantastic mother, but I can sense that you want to write more again, and it's really rubbish when you have to drive to school, mornings and afternoons, and cook and all that. A girl could do that sort of thing, preferably a foreigner and definitely of a different colour!'

He kept surprising me. First of all, by the fact that he had noticed I hadn't been entirely happy with my situation lately. As a freelance writer of essays and short stories, I was suffering from the fact that Betty kept me quite busy and I barely had a few hours to myself at a stretch anymore. Taking her to school in the morning and shopping, house and garden work, cooking -- that took me until about two o'clock. Picking up Betty sometime between three and five, depending on her timetable, naturally spending a bit of time with her, and then Michael would come home and that was it.

'Why of a different colour?'

'Oh, I thought that way we could most easily prevent her from developing any stupid, racist ideas. You know what's going on around here, and I don't want to hear what sort of nonsense they're spouting at school!'

"Good, I agree!"

When we let Betty in on the plan the next morning, she was absolutely thrilled, and then we started searching. It took a long time, but then we found her: Jenny from Detroit, Black, twenty-one, and if we could trust the conversations, which we did, a really nice person.

She was pretty too, not particularly tall and a bit curvy, but with beautiful eyes and such a delightful laugh that I liked her immediately. She wore her hair in many small braids close to her head, and her teeth were so white that in every conversation I wondered if they could be real.

Her parents were teachers and worried about their daughter. We also talked with them at length and repeatedly, and finally everything was settled. We sent the ticket and Jenny called from the airport to say she was on her way.

I was looking forward to her arrival -- she would bring a little variety into our lives and take some of the burden off me. Besides, it would certainly be good for Betty too; Michael was right about that. I rubbed my bottom against his pelvis, snuggled into the blanket, and fell asleep.

*******

In person, she was much prettier than on the somewhat distorting display of my laptop. First of all, she was at least 1.70 metres tall and her figure was truly impressive. Her breasts were larger than mine and naturally much firmer, her hips and bottom were full but without a trace of fat. On the contrary, she looked fit, as if she did a lot of sport. As she walked waving out of the arrivals gate, it came back to me -- she swam, she had told us. Well, it was fine that there was a great indoor pool not far from our house, where she could work out whenever she felt like it and take Betty along too, that couch potato.

Jenny seemed to have no inhibitions about physical contact. She stopped in front of us, dropped her suitcase and hugged us. She was wearing a T-shirt and tight-fitting jeans, and I immediately noticed what soft, smooth skin she had when she wrapped her arms around my neck. Her lips on my cheeks felt wonderful, firm and slightly moist.

We both hugged her -- Betty would have liked to come along too, but it didn't work out because of school. So we took her between us, Michael grabbed her suitcase and off we went towards the car park. She immediately started chatting away, completely uninhibited, telling us about the flight and passing on greetings from her parents.

When we got home, I walked with her from the car to the front door and suddenly turned around to look at Michael, who was following behind with the luggage. His gaze was fixed on Jenny's bottom and I knew immediately -- he liked what he saw. He had always been attracted to voluptuous women's bodies, otherwise he wouldn't have married me either. The flame from back then had also been his type, by the way, with huge breasts and a real magnificent arse.

A daring thought flashed through my mind: 'Was there perhaps more behind this than the loving idea of relieving my burden? Did Michael have a desire for fresh meat?' I called myself a fool and secretly shook my head at myself. What was I imagining now? After all, there was nothing wrong with looking at a pretty girl's bottom. I had also inspected her breasts, perhaps a second longer than necessary.

Nevertheless, in the end it had been him who came home one evening with Jenny's Skype address and a picture of her -- he had found her on an American website that placed au pair girls in Europe.

I decided to keep an eye on the whole thing, but smiled inwardly at the absurd suspicion. We showed Jenny the house, her room and the bathroom, which was opposite our bedroom, and familiarised her with the usual daily routine.

When I asked if she wanted to take a shower, she nodded enthusiastically: "Yes, please, I really need that after the long flight!"

"Good, there's a towel in the bathroom and we'll have coffee afterwards, okay?"

She disappeared into her room and I went to our bedroom because I wanted to put on something more comfortable. I quickly slipped into leggings and a T-shirt - it was May and the temperatures were already very pleasant.

Michael had offered to make coffee, so I took my time combing my hair and then stepped out into the corridor. There I nearly collided with Jenny, who had come out of her room at the same moment. She scurried past me giggling, wearing only underwear, and ran into the bathroom.

I caught a glimpse of her from behind and secretly thought that I was glad Michael hadn't seen that. She was wearing a skimpy thong that didn't hide any of her magnificent buttocks. Her bottom was really phenomenal and I caught myself wondering what it would be like to stroke it or even kiss it.

With weak knees, I went downstairs and decided to tell her that she should put something on when walking across the hallway.

We had coffee together and then Michael left for work. Jenny and I made our way into town, where I showed her some sights and the main shops. On the way home, I let her take the wheel and was relieved to find that she drove safely and calmly. When I commented on this, she responded with a grin: "Hey, Mum, I'm from Detroit - we're born with petrol in our blood there!"

I laughed and patted her plump thigh: "Okay, Jenny, but you don't have to call me Mam, I'm Francis and everyone calls me Fran, agreed?"

She nodded: "Okay, Fran!" - it sounded rather like "Frein", but I would get used to it.

At lunch I asked her if she had left a lover behind and she shook her head with a smile: "No, no lover. I don't have one." She looked at me rather strangely, but I thought it might be uncomfortable for her to talk about such personal things, so I changed the subject.

The afternoon was spent with briefings - washing machine, garden, and then the route to school. Betty came running out first and the greeting between the two was very, very warm. I was glad that we had taught our daughter early on how important foreign languages were and that she had already been to England twice during the holidays. So she could chat with Jenny effortlessly and for the first time it became clear to me what a huge advantage it would be for Betty to speak English with her 'nanny' for half a year. It would do Michael and me good too. I had already noticed that I was a bit rusty.

My husband felt the same way, as I discovered that evening when we sat together comfortably for the first time and chatted.

In bed he finally said: "God, now I realise how weak my English has become, good thing we arranged this with Jenny. How do you like her, by the way?"

"I think she's very nice," I replied, and then I added, turning to him, "and pretty, don't you think?"

He grinned: "Yes, just my type, shame she's so young!"

"Oh you," I threw myself at him, "what do you want with such a young thing, you old fool? She sees a grandfather in you. To her, you're practically compost already!"

"Well, I'll show you compost, you cheeky minx!"

I felt his cock stirring right away, and after a few minutes and a hot kiss, I was sitting on him with his cock inside my pussy, riding him. I slid wildly back and forth on his thighs with my bottom -- I knew he liked that because it made my tits bounce so nicely, and sure enough, his eyes went all glassy as he stared at me.

He immediately grabbed my breasts and kneaded them, while I increased the speed even more and enjoyed how his shaft pressed against the inner walls of my pussy, stimulating the most intimate spots.

It didn't take long before we came -- me with a sharp cry and Michael with a loud groan. I quickly covered both our mouths, with a meaningful glance towards the wall that separated us from Jenny's room. But of course it was too late. Unless she slept like a bear, she couldn't have missed what we'd been up to. But as I said, I definitely didn't want to go without sex for half a year. Better that she get used to the fact that there would be sounds coming from our bedroom now and then.

*******

The first two weeks flew by and soon a routine had established itself. Jenny did an excellent job--she was punctual, hardworking, and always helpful. After just a few days, I let her drive the car on her own, and she was also a great help around the house. The only thing she left to me was the cooking, as that wasn't really her strong suit. But she was eager to learn and constantly looked over my shoulder. Twice a week, the girls went straight to the indoor pool after school, and Betty was totally impressed by how well and especially how fast her new friend could swim.

I actually had more time for myself and my work and spent almost the whole morning at the desk in front of the notebook.

The only interruption came when Jenny called me for coffee, which she served either in the garden or in the kitchen depending on the weather. 'You need to get up and take a few steps,' she said, and I had no objections.

It was a Tuesday morning with glorious sunshine, and she had mown the lawn. She wore a bikini top and shorts and sat down beside me on the bench on our terrace, breathing heavily. She had been doing this for the past few days, and I noticed that she was moving closer to me day by day, as if seeking physical contact. I had already thought that perhaps she was homesick or had some kind of trouble, and when we had taken our first sip and she laid her head on my shoulder--something she had never done before--I asked: 'Jenny, is everything alright with you, or is something bothering you?'

As I did so, I placed a hand on her thigh and patted it gently.

She turned her head towards me and looked at me with those huge, brown eyes, for a long time without saying anything. Her face was completely serious and I became uneasy.

"Is it homesickness?"

Now she shook her head vigorously and placed a warm, soft hand on mine: "No, no, not at all!" she said, continuing to look at me intently. Her gaze was somehow pleading and I didn't know what it meant.

"What is it then?" I asked, and she slid up a bit and kissed me wordlessly on the neck, just like that. And that wasn't an innocent kiss, no -- she pressed her lips firmly against my skin and I thought I felt her tongue tip touch me for a tiny moment.

I jerked back in shock -- partly because of her action, but also because I had found it extremely pleasant.

"Jenny, what's this about?"

I wanted to pull my hand away, but she held it firmly and even pulled it a little closer to herself, so that my fingers were already touching the inside of her thigh, just below the very short leg of her shorts.

"No, stay with me," she pleaded, "I can explain this to you!"

"Alright, I'm listening," I said more firmly than I intended. Instinctively I knew what was coming and my heartbeat quickened.

She began: "You asked me if I had a friend, do you remember?"

I nodded and she continued: "I don't have a boyfriend, I've only had one once, when I was sixteen, and I already knew then that it wasn't worth it. Fran, I don't like men, I like women!"

"My God, Jenny, but why..., why are you kissing me, I'm...?" I wanted to say "much too old for you", but thank God she interrupted me.

"Sorry, but I thought you..., you understand me and...!"

Now I took her hand away from mine, but only to place it on her cheek and press her head against my shoulder.

"Oh, Jenny, of course I understand you, but I'm not..., not lesbian, you know that, I'm a wife and mother!"

Now she stared at me, almost challengingly: "And you've never had sex with a woman...?"

Why should I have lied: "Yes, my darling, I have. Even now sometimes with a female friend, but child, you could be my...!"

I couldn't go any further. My confession made her last inhibition fall away. She sat up, turned to me and pressed her mouth to mine before I could prevent it. She clasped her hands behind my neck and pressed herself so tightly against me that I could feel our breasts rubbing against each other.

For a moment I pressed my lips together and tried to push her away, but firstly she had much more strength than I did and secondly..., yes, secondly her warm, full, yes overfull lips that pressed over mine aroused me. So I gave in for the moment, still hoping that it would stay with the kiss and I would calm her down, and I put my arms around her hips. I felt her insistent tongue, warm and moist, and gave way, let it in and let it flutter over my palate.

My God, she was like a volcano, so much pent-up desire, so much longing and so much experience. The way she kissed was far from an innocent girl's kiss. Her tongue explored my mouth thoroughly, leaving nothing untouched, then drew me into hers, where she welcomed me and let me taste her warm saliva. Though I had initially intended to end this quickly, my hands now moved of their own accord, feeling their way up her back to her neck. I let one hand linger there, playing with her ear, while I placed the other on her breast, which pressed against mine. I slipped two fingers into the left cup and searched for her nipple, which was already hard beneath the fabric. As soon as I found it, she too became active and began exploring my body.

Now it was time. I broke off the kiss, pushed her back almost forcefully and asked her breathlessly: "Jenny, do you really want this? I could be your mother."

Although the mood was so heated and we were both breathing heavily, she began to giggle: "No, you couldn't. You're the wrong colour!"

"Oh, you're silly!" I wasn't really in the mood for laughing, but I had to grin too. "But I'm also the wrong age!"

"No, you're not. I love mature women. My girlfriends have always been older. I first did it with a teacher at school and then at college with a professor too. Please, kiss me, I long for you so much!"

"Don't you want to?"

I reached out my hand to her: "Yes, but not here in front of the neighbours. I want to take you to bed!"

I didn't even know if what I was doing was okay, but her pleading glances and especially the kiss and her exciting body tipped the scales. And if that hadn't been enough, her radiant eyes would have convinced me when she took my hand.

We practically ran up the stairs and as soon as we were in the bedroom, we fell onto the bed in a tight embrace. I threw myself half on top of her and as our lips melted together, there was no holding back. She slipped a hand under my T-shirt and stroked my back while I pushed the cups of her bra up, over those wonderful, full breasts. My God, how beautiful they were. Perfectly round, with large, almost violet areolas and thick nipples, black as night and stiff as little cocks.

I latched on firmly while she tugged at my polo shirt, wanting to pull it over my head. So I let go of her once more: "This won't work. Come on, get undressed!" I commanded and stood up.

She followed my lead, skillfully opened the clasp of her pushed-up bra and slipped out of her shirt and a cute thong. While I fumbled with my jeans, I stared at her sex, where tiny, closely-trimmed curls framed a narrow slit that disappeared between her muscular thighs. I felt my pussy getting wet at the sight of this black--well, that wasn't quite right--this chocolate-brown beauty.

When I stood before her in panties and bra, she was already lying on the bed with one leg bent, waiting intently for me to remove my underwear as well. She offered me a view of her pussy, framed by dark, swollen lips with a glistening slit opened wide, allowing me to glimpse the delicate pink interior.

My breasts swayed in front of my chest as I slipped off my panties, and she whispered: "Oh, my God, what nice tits you have!"

I saw that she meant it seriously, so I held back a remark about the already noticeable effects of gravity on my breasts and lay down beside her.

My pussy was completely shaved - I preferred it that way myself, and both Michael and my friend Jane really appreciated it when their tongues encountered no resistance.

I wanted to resume our previous position, but she gently pushed me away, turned me onto my back and whispered: "No, let me - I want to pleasure you, please!"

Smiling, I spread my arms wide: "Well then, come here, my darling!"

She threw herself onto me, full-length, between my spread thighs, and while her wiry hair rubbed against my pussy, her full lips glided over my face and neck, repeatedly finding my mouth, and then she began playing tongue games with me like I had never experienced before.

First she licked me, with her tongue extended, across my half-open lips, then she sucked on mine, drew it out, licked along its length, let me do the same with hers, and kissed the tip of my tongue as a drop of saliva formed and flowed into my mouth. It was so arousing, so naughty and exciting, that my pussy began to throb and I wrapped my legs around her, pressed my heels into her firm bottom and pulled her tight against me with all my limbs. She began moving her pelvis while alternately licking into my ears and then back into my mouth. I naturally returned her caresses and soon our faces were glistening with moisture.

My hands moved over her back and then, after a while, down to her round bottom. Her buttocks were as firm and as large as melons. I kneaded them, I pulled them apart and enjoyed her smooth skin and the strong, muscular flesh beneath. This seemed to please her too, because she lifted her head once and whispered: 'This is so wonderful, exactly as I had imagined.'

I wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but she didn't give me time, silencing me with her mouth on mine, and then she began making her way down, sliding lower and lower. I'll never forget the sight of my snow-white breasts -- I'm not into naturism -- almost half disappearing between her lips and how she sucked on my nipples, making wet, smacking sounds, so animalistic. She was so refreshingly uninhibited and it was so infectious that I spread my legs wide and rubbed against her, against her firm stomach and then against her breasts as she moved lower. When she spat in my navel and then licked it out, I came for the first time -- that had never happened to me before, having an orgasm before someone had even touched my intimate areas. But Jenny radiated so much sexuality and desire that I couldn't resist it.

She acknowledged my climax with an approving grin and panted: 'Well then, let's go again -- now things are really getting started!'

It was incredible, and if I hadn't known she was only twenty-one, I wouldn't have believed it. She was so experienced, knew exactly where it felt best, and within minutes she had me in a state of total arousal. Her tongue was everywhere, deep inside my pussy, with her lips covering my labia so it felt like she wanted to devour me. It sounded like it too, which made me extremely horny. Her hands weren't idle either -- sometimes stroking my thighs on the sensitive inner side, sometimes massaging my clit, and sometimes thrusting three fingers into my pussy while her tongue fluttered over my clitoris.

I ran my fingers through her hair, through those thick, hard braids, and rubbed my own clit when she wasn't working on it.

Suddenly she lifted her head and gasped: "Come on, Fran, let yourself go, I want to see you come, come on!"

As she did this, she gently slapped my pussy with the flat of her hand and looked at me challengingly.

I didn't just come, I exploded and let out a loud, uninhibited scream, while I felt fluid spurting from my pussy and Jenny cried out with excitement. I was still writhing under intense spasms when she had already latched onto my pussy and was licking me out, slurping the juice and smacking so loudly that I came again immediately. Laughing, she slid up and groaned: "Wow, you're a hot babe!"

Then she kissed me and let me taste my own pussy juice. Tightly entwined, we rolled across the bed kissing and moaning, hooked our thighs together, rubbed our pussies against each other and grabbed each other's arses.

Finally I had her where I wanted her -- she lay beneath me, face down, rubbing her bottom against my pelvis, while I tenderly bit her neck and delighted in her wonderfully taut skin.

I worked my way slowly downward, covering her back and flanks with countless kisses, stroking her again and again and listening to her soft, contented moaning. She spread her legs apart, making room for me as I moved lower, and finally I knelt between them, with a clear view of her sweet pussy. But first her bottom tempted me and I kissed her cheeks, licked them and kneaded them ever more firmly. I could tell she liked this and it made me bolder. I pulled her buttocks apart and exposed her rosebud, that little, wrinkled muscle ring. Just as I was about to lean forward to press my lips against it, she called out: "No, wait!" and knelt in front of me, buried her head in the pillow and thrust her bottom toward me.

Now I had both entrances in front of me, the rosy, gaping pussy and the anus that looked at me like a violet eye.

I put my hands on her buttocks and licked deep into her pussy. She tasted so good, so fresh, so young, completely different from my Jane, and she felt different too--firm, supple and so velvety that I felt arousal taking hold of me again. She moaned softly into the pillow and wiggled her bottom, which I took as an invitation to go a bit higher. When I circled her anus with my tongue and occasionally pushed gently against it, she lifted her head: "Yes, that's good, oh yes, more, please Fran, more!"

So I moistened her rosebud thoroughly with saliva and licked over it with my tongue stretched out wide, while I slid two fingers into her hot, wet pussy and began to fuck her gently.

Now she began moaning loudly and pushed her bottom back against me so that I could penetrate really deep into her.

"Fuck my ass!" came the sudden command, and naturally I didn't want to resist that. What luck--she was into it just like Jane and I. So I spat once more on her little rosebud and then switched hands. I positioned one wet finger from her pussy at her asshole, while immediately sinking two fingers from my other hand back into her hot slit.

When I overcame the resistance of her sphincter and penetrated her rectum, she cried out and then gasped: "Yes, Fran, fuck me, yes, that feels so good, go deep, I love it!"

"I am, my angel, I am!" I replied and let actions follow words. I pushed my finger deep into her dark hole, twisting it as I did, pressing against the two in her pussy and began to fuck her nice and hard.

She slapped her hands on the pillows, writhed under my attacks and finally, after a few minutes, just as I had pressed my mouth to her right cheek, she came.

She screamed like a stuck pig, whimpered and panted hoarsely, shouted words in English that I didn't even know, and suddenly let herself fall forward so violently and unexpectedly that I slipped out of her holes.

She threw herself on her back and groaned: "Come here, I want your fingers!"

I slid up, sat on her firm tits with their stiff nipples, which I felt against my ass cheeks, and held out my fingers to her. She grabbed them and greedily licked them clean, all of them, regardless of where they had been. My God, what a horny little slut she was. Who would have thought what a hot woman was hidden in this funny, friendly, almost innocent-seeming creature.

She sucked my fingers deep into her wide mouth, licked them clean, covered them with saliva, and looked at me with hungry eyes that said: "That was nice, Fran, but that was just the beginning!"

When she freed me, I laid half on her and stroked her burning cheek: "Where did you learn all that, my darling?"

"I was with my professor almost every night and she was insatiable!"

After a long kiss, I whispered: "Hey, that's me too!"

"That's good then!" she said and pushed me away. "Now you can turn around and lie on top of me - I want to explore your bottom too!"

*******

We stayed in bed until well past midday, until it was time to pick up Betty. After a shared shower, during which we couldn't keep our hands to ourselves either, Jenny set off and left me in a whirlwind of emotions.

What had I done? Seduced a young girl who could have been my daughter. Had I gone mad? Where would this lead? I didn't know. The only thing I knew was that I had enjoyed it and wanted it again, preferably immediately and every day. I was completely infatuated with Jenny, and just the thought of her and her pussy made me wet, even though I had climaxed at least six or seven times that day.

That she felt similarly was proven to me that very evening. Every time she came to me in the kitchen with dirty dishes or to fetch something, she hugged me, gave me a kiss, or grabbed me between the legs. Once she whispered to me: "I'm so horny for you. I want you now, right here!"

I took her face in both hands: "Darling, that's not possible, but tomorrow morning when you come back from school, I'll be waiting for you in bed. I promise!" She smiled and nodded: "That's good. I can hardly wait. I'm completely wet in my pussy!"

It was totally crazy, because I felt exactly the same way.

"What's wrong with you?" Michael asked me when we were finally lying next to each other in bed. "You're somehow nervous, so restless. I don't know you like this at all!"

I looked at him with feigned astonishment: "Nothing at all, I don't know what you mean. The only thing I'm missing is your cock, my darling!"

What should I do? I was horny and I could hardly go into the next room and have Jenny go down on me.

"Well, if that's how it is!" Michael grinned and reached under the covers for my pussy. "Oh ho! Someone's really in need. Well then, spread those legs nice and wide!"

That's what I did, and when he entered me, I cried out--I don't know how many times that day--and in that moment I thought of Jenny. What would she feel if she heard me there, heard me fucking Michael? I didn't want her to become jealous, but of course I also didn't want to lose my husband, and as I lay there receiving his thrusts, an idea ripened in my sex-crazed brain--actually not just one, but two, and both were very depraved, but incredibly arousing.

Full of arousal, I wrapped my legs around him and panted: "Come on, come for me, I want to feel your seed, and if you're a good boy, I'll have a surprise for you soon, my darling."

He grunted loudly as he emptied his balls right into my orgasm, filling me with a hefty load of cum. I whimpered with lust and arousal, and when he buried himself panting between my tits and asked: "What surprise?", I said softly: "You'll see, but I bet you'll be pleased!"

Before falling asleep, I briefly considered how I should make my ideas appealing to Jenny, but I soon calmed myself. A girl who loves to fuck so much wouldn't object to the suggestions and would also understand that there was no other way. After all, we wanted to enjoy each other as often as possible.

The attentive reader will surely already suspect what Fran is planning. How she implements her plans will be revealed in the next part of "The Black Nanny", which will be published soon.