Émilie rang the doorbell and stepped back. She was a couple of minutes early but decided it looked better than being late. She brushed a strand of her shoulder-length brunette hair behind her ear and was just about to ring the bell a second time when the door opened.

“Madame Bellingham?”

“Hello, yes. You must be Émilie. I’m Audrey, come in.”

Émilie looked around the hall as she followed Audrey into a bright airy kitchen. Audrey sat behind the kitchen table covered in paperwork and indicated a kitchen chair opposite.

Émilie cast her eye over Audrey. She looked to be in her late 30s. She had the appearance of a stereotypical British mother trying to juggle family and career. Her blonde hair looked a little unkempt, pulled back into a ponytail and the fleecy hoodie had a couple of food stains smeared down the front. She saw the dishes stacked in the sink and figured breakfast had been a rushed affair.

A movement in the garden caught Émilie’s attention and she watched as a small boy kicked a football into a small set of goalposts. Audrey saw her looking and followed her gaze.

“That’s Harry. Three years old and full of beans.”

Just then, a baby’s cries came through the intercom sitting on the table.

“And that’ll be Sarah.” Audrey sighed and she stood up. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Émilie could hear Audrey through the intercom as she shushed and tried to settle Sarah. She looked around the kitchen, admiring the family photos stuck to the fridge with magnets. A much older looking man with grey hair around the temples, who Émilie presumed was Mr Bellingham was in several photographs with his arm around Audrey or holding Harry on his lap. Émilie heard Audrey returning, carrying Sarah with her. She sat down again.

“And this is Sarah, who you will hopefully be getting to know much better.”

Émilie smiled and whispered, “Hello, Sarah,” to the little girl sitting on her Mummy’s lap.

She raised her eyes. “She’s beautiful,” she told Audrey. “How old?”

“Maybe she doesn’t seem quite so beautiful at 3 o’clock in the morning, or maybe I shouldn’t be telling you that.” Audrey laughed, conspiratorially. “She’s just turned one. Finding her feet and trying to walk.”

Audrey put Sarah down in her playpen and let her crawl towards the cuddly toys scattered amongst the cushions.

“Basically, Émilie, I need you to start immediately. Our last au pair left at short notice and as you can see, it’s a bit hard to work with these two about. Now, is there anything you need to ask me?”

Émilie was slightly taken aback. She’d expected to be interviewed, not the other way about. However, she liked the setup. She had her own room with en-suite, she had Saturdays off and was free other evenings as needed as long as she checked in advance. She was a combination live-in nanny and home help. The main priority was the children but if she could clean and do a little housework and laundry, that would be a bonus.

“So what about Monsieur Bellingham? Is he around much?”

“Oh, Jack will be home for dinner some evenings but it is never guaranteed. We both have jobs with flexible work patterns. I often have evening meetings, soirees where I have to schmooze clients and Jack has a crazy work schedule.” She shook her head as if to emphasise the craziness. “They have clients in the US and Australia so he can be on conference calls at all hours.”

Émilie nodded and once they had agreed on pay and conditions, Audrey took her outside to meet Harry.

“Hello, Harry,” Émilie said as she got down on her knees on the grass beside him. “What did you find?”

Harry grinned and held up a worm.

“Oh, how cool,” Émilie told him. “Have you given him a name yet?”

Jack found this incredibly funny and giggled, and like that, Émilie was accepted.

Half an hour later, Émilie came back into the kitchen, wiping shards of grass from her knees. 

“He’s adorable,” she told Audrey who smiled and suggested she give her a tour of the house and then she might want to go and get her stuff and move in as soon as possible.

“Oh, by the way. I forgot to ask.” Audrey stopped and blushed. “Do you have a boyfriend? It’s just with the children and…” She faltered again.

Émilie lightly laughed.

“It’s ok, Audrey, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

She watched Audrey visibly relax before adding, “I might have a girlfriend from time to time though if that is ok?”

Audrey blushed again, but at the same time, Émilie noticed a smile crept across the edges of her mouth. 

“Well, as long as you are discreet and keep the noise down.” She patted Émilie on the arm and showed her the bedroom.

Émilie noted the large double bed and the ensuite shower room. It was situated at the back of the house, away from both the children and the main bedroom.

“Do you have much stuff?” Audrey inquired as she finished the tour.

“No, just a rucksack really and a box of books.”

“Well here’s a full set of keys, but I’ll be here anyway. See you in a bit.”

Émilie texted her mother as she got the bus back to the Youth Hostel she’d been staying in. 

“Got the job. Looking after 2 kids. The mother seems nice. Love you. Em xx”

Émilie spent an hour getting her room settled then joined the family to get her bearings and see how everything worked before taking over in the morning. She offered to help Audrey cook and the woman was so grateful she let Émilie take over. Émilie smiled as she noticed Audrey had got changed for dinner. Audrey caught her looking and giggled.

“It’s just so nice to get out of the Mummy clothes. It’s nice to dress up now and again, don’t you think?”

Émilie blushed, realising she’d been caught staring at Audrey. She couldn’t help it. Émilie had always been attracted to older women and now Audrey was no longer wearing the shapeless hoodie and velour tracksuit bottoms, Émilie could appreciate her figure. Audrey had beautiful boobs. Firm, full tits filled a black lace bra visible through the white linen short-sleeved blouse. The pair of navy slacks were clinched around her waist with a gold belt and the little kitten heels gave her the perfect posture. Émilie had heard the term ‘yummy mummy’ used before and thought it described Audrey perfectly.

Audrey sat and fed Sarah whilst explaining to Émilie all about Harry and Sarah’s routine. Harry and Sarah generally ate pasta, rice or potato for their evening meals with cereal for breakfast and sandwiches for lunch. Audrey didn’t expect Émilie to cater for her and Jack. As long as the children were fed and looked after, the grown-ups could fend for themselves. Audrey told Émilie to leave a note if she needed anything from the supermarket and suggested she show Audrey a weekly menu planner in advance so she could make sure she had all the ingredients in.

Once Audrey and Émilie had got the children to bed, Audrey suggested a glass of wine and the two women sat in the living room, tv turned down low and gossiped.

Audrey related the horror stories of enduring the local mother and toddler group and as the wine loosened the tongue, she regaled Émilie about who was sleeping with who and the reason the last au pair had suddenly left was because she’d gotten pregnant by one of the stay-at-home dads who lived down the road.

“No!” Émilie gasped in fake shock as a slightly inebriated Audrey described the fall out of the revelation about the affair. Émilie wasn’t particularly surprised. She’d come to realise in the three years she’d been an au pair that these middle class detached rabbit-hutch estates were generally dens of iniquity.

Just then, the door to the living room opened and Jack came in. Émilie lowered her glass and stood up to introduce herself. Jack grasped her hand and Émilie bit her lip as she gazed into his smouldering blue eyes.

“Welcome to the madhouse,” he giggled and walked over to kiss his wife on the forehead. “Are you glad you’ve got parole?” he asked her before reaching for the bottle and pouring himself a glass.

Émilie felt relaxed with him immediately. He was suave, sophisticated and very droll. He regaled them both with tales from the office and Émilie went to bed that night feeling very happy and excited with her new job.

Over the next few days, life settled down very quickly into a new routine. Émilie was up before 7 am to be dressed and have breakfast ready before Sarah or Harry woke. Sometimes, she’d share a cup of coffee with jack before he left though often he went straight from the bedroom to the car, barely acknowledging her existence. Audrey would always appear at 8 o’clock. Eat half a slice of toast and drink two mouthfuls of tea before theatrically kissing the children goodbye and driving to the office. 

Sometimes Audrey or Jack would be home at teatime and sit with the kids but usually, it was after they were in bed before they would make it home. 

Émilie wondered if the children were just an addition, a bit like an Ikea kitchen they had seen in a magazine, and Émilie was there primarily to stop them getting in the way too much.

One night, just as Émilie closed Harry’s bedroom door having watched him fall asleep as she read to him, Audrey stumbled in through the front door. She was wearing a little black dress and was carrying her coat. She dropped her coat, bag and shoes in the hall and stumbled slightly as she staggered into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and took out the half-empty bottle of Chardonnay from the night before.

“Are you ok?” Émilie whispered, anxious not to wake the children.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Audrey moaned. “Just had a fucking boring book launch and was passed over for a younger model when I was trying to get financier’s attention.”

She slumped down onto the sofa after pouring two glasses of wine.

“Émilie, it’s shite having children. You lose your whole status as a woman. You’re no longer desirable, you’re just a baby-making machine.”

“That’s so not true,” Émilie responded. “You are beautiful.”

It was true. She looked so good in the little black dress. The hem had ridden up and Émilie could see the lace top of the hold-up stockings. Gossamer thin black nylon covered her legs and then that hint of a gap, that line of naked flesh between stocking top and panties that Émilie loved to run her fingers and mouth over.

Émilie leant over and brushed Audrey’s blonde hair away from her face. Audrey gazed back at Émilie and before they knew it, they were kissing passionately. 

Audrey’s fingers gripped the hem of Émilie’s tee shirt and pulled it over her head. The French girl wore a pretty little flower print cotton bra and Audrey ran her fingers over it as she kissed her way down Émilie’s neck. Émilie’s fingers reached behind and unfastened her bra and it was quickly discarded as Audrey ran her tongue around and around Émilie’s left nipple.

Émilie groaned as Audrey sucked the nipple into her mouth. She was rough, her teeth dug into it and Émilie winched as she felt Audrey bite.

“Fuckkk,” she gasped.

Audrey giggled and moved her head to the right nipple as her fingers scrabbled to unfasten Émilie’s jeans. She tugged them down over the girl’s hips and pulled them off, throwing them on the floor as she ran her fingers up Émilie’s legs.

Audrey grinned, gazing up at Émilie as she ran her nose over Émilie’s panties, inhaling her scent.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted this ever since I opened the door to you that first morning,” Audrey whispered as she ran her tongue along the pantie elastic. Émilie pulled her stomach muscles in and groaned softly as he felt more juices ooze into her already soaking panties.

Émilie raised her hips and slid her panties down her legs, letting Audrey tug them down to her ankles and onto the floor. Audrey slurped and licked at Émilie. Audrey’s nose was buried in the girl’s smattering of light brown curls as her tongue swirled over her clit. Émilie arched her back and gasped as Audrey slid two fingers into her.

Audrey fucked her hard and fast. She slammed her fingers deep into Émilie over and over. Émilie could hear the squelch squelch squelch as Audrey took her. Audrey sucked Émilie’s clit into her mouth and Émilie pressed her feet into the settee and arched her back as she came, spasming on Audrey’s hand and face.

The older woman raised her head and grinned, watching Émilie slowly recover. Émilie’s eyes were glazed. Her breasts heaved as she drew some much-needed oxygen into her lungs.

Audrey stood up and reached under her dress and tugged her panties down. She hiked up her dress and clambered up on top of Émilie before lowering herself down on the girl’s face.

“Eat me, Émilie.” she groaned. “Make me cum all over your pretty French face.”

Émilie gazed at the smooth pussy in front of her. The labia were parted, puffed up and glistening, already slick with her juices. Émilie blew her breath out. She smirked as she saw Audrey stiffen. The groan was muffled slightly as the dress hung over her face but when she stuck out her tongue and wriggled the tongue tip into the top of her slit, there was no mistaking the needy whimper.

Émilie’s tongue gathered up Audrey’s juices as they oozed out of her. Émilie adored the taste of la chatte and savoured the musky flavour on her tongue as her tongue swirled through Audrey’s folds. She gave Audrey’s clit a playful lick and was rewarded with another sigh and a flinch.

Émilie’s fingers reached around and gripped Audrey’s ass. She pulled her down, tongue shoved deep inside Audrey’s wet velvet walls. The older woman began to move her hips, grinding against Émilie’s face as the French girl swirled her tongue inside the wet velvet. Her nose rubbed against Audrey’s clit as she moved her head from side to side like a metronome.

It wasn’t long before Audrey’s fingers curled their way through Émilie’s hair and gripped hard. The English woman pulled Émilie’s air, pulling her face deeper into her sopping wet cunt. She began to ride Émilie’s face, humping her hips forwards and back as the need overtook her.

As Émilie pulled Audrey down onto her face, she felt the cum splatter her face as Audrey orgasmed, head thrown back, a low guttural moan escaping her screwed up face as she rode Émilie hard.

Finally, Audrey stopped and rolled off. Émilie was grateful Audrey was shaven as the last woman who had ridden her face like that had a stubbly bush and Émilie had suffered a beard rash for a week.

Audrey staggered to her feet, her dress was dishevelled and she staggered slightly as she stood up and whispered, “I need to get to bed before Jack gets home.” he gave Émilie a long slow lingering kiss before slipping off to bed.

Émilie reached around and gathered up her clothes. She pulled her tee shirt back on and bundled the rest of her clothes up and headed to bed.

Next morning, Audrey was up to see Jack off. She kissed him goodbye as he dumped his coffee cup and half eaten piece of toast on the counter. When he had gone, Audrey turned and grinned at Émilie.

“Last night,” she began. 

“C’est rien. It’s ok. You don’t need to explain.” Émilie tried to reassure her.

‘I wasn’t going to try and explain it away, Émilie.” Audrey retorted, grinning. “I just wanted to say that I’d prefer if Jack didn’t find out.”

Émilie stood there, impassive. She liked this job and was inwardly cursing her stupidity when she realised what Audrey was saying.

“I was hoping we could manage to keep this affair a secret.” 

Émilie bit her lip as Audrey slowly dragged her index finger down Émilie’s chest, tracing her cleavage through the tee-shirt.

Émilie’s tongue slid out and she wet her lips. Her mouth felt dry as she pondered on whether one time made it an affair or did she intend a repeat performance. The answer was soon obvious.

“Jack will be home the next few nights but he has to fly to Edinburgh on Thursday morning for a meeting. He won’t be home till late on Friday.”

Audrey let the implication hang in the air for a moment before removing any doubt.

“I hope you can make yourself available on Thursday night after the children are in bed, Émilie.”

Audrey let her hand drop and cup Émilie’s mound through her jeans before she leant in close and whispered in her ear, “I’ve got a strap-on I’ve been dying to use.”

With that, she walked off, kissed her children goodbye, told them she would see them tomorrow as Mummy had to work late and headed off to work.

“Merde,” Émilie swore as she stared at the recently closed front door. What had she got herself into?

The day went smoothly and dinner time had seen slightly more food in the mouths than on the walls and floor. Émilie was just drying Harry after his bath when she heard the front door close. It had been a fun bath time and Émilie was soaked. She felt her tee shirt clinging to her after several over-exuberant splashes from Harry. The bathroom door opened and Jack stuck his head in.

“Hello, everyone.” He came in and knelt down beside Émilie and Harry and asked about everyone’s day. He laughed as Harry told him about chasing the ducks and then he surprised Émilie.

“If it’s ok, I’d like to put Harry to bed, read to him and everything. Why don’t you go and relax in the living room? Pour yourself a glass of wine.”

Émilie readily agreed and after getting changed out of her wet clothes, she sat on the sofa sipping a rather nice Bordeaux. She smiled as she listened to the muffled laughter and voices from down the hall.

Finally, Jack came out and sat on the armchair opposite her. 

“They seem very happy.” He smiled at her. “Harry is very impressed with your paper aeroplane skills and you can make your armpit fart, apparently.”

Émilie blushed a little but smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”

Jack leant forward and poured himself a glass of wine.

“It’s good for them to have you around. Jack was very keen to show me he can tell me the colours in French. Though I’m not entirely sure what colour blurgh is.”

Émilie blushed again and giggled. Jack had such an easy way with him, she found herself relaxing, listening to his tales of crazy business acquisitions and telling him stories of her life growing up in Haute Goulaine, a suburb south of Nantes in the Loire valley.

Somehow, somewhere along the evening, perhaps when he had got up to get another bottle of wine, they had found themselves both sitting on the sofa. Émilie bit her lip as she saw Jack’s gaze drop to take in the white tee-shirt and little black skater skirt she was wearing, the bare legs and the pink trainer socks.

She lifted her eyes and met his gaze. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to lean in and kiss him. His lips were firm and it felt so different from kissing Audrey the night before.

He was urgent, as if in a hurry. His fingers dipped and tugged up her tee-shirt, tossed it aside then leant back to admire her chest. 

“Take off your bra,” he whispered and when she had dropped it to the floor, he pushed her back onto the sofa and kissed his way down her neck and over her breasts. She’d always felt her boobs were quite small and she’d longed for them to be bigger like the other girls in her class. But they were always so sensitive and as his stubbled chin rubbed across her nipples, she groaned and swore under her breath.

He mauled her breasts. His calloused hand pawed at one tit while his mouth suckled the hard pink nipple of the other. He swapped around regularly, sucking, licking, nipping one then the other while his other hand slid along her thigh and under her skirt. Émilie squirmed beneath him. Her skirt was riding up her thighs and she felt her yellow cotton panties getting damp.

Suddenly he stopped and sat up.

“Pick up your clothes.” It was an order, not a suggestion.

Émilie reached down and picked up her bra and tee shirt. She went to put the tee-shirt back on but he stopped her. 

“No, not here. Let’s go to your room.” 

He took her hand and led her down the corridor to her bedroom. Harry’s snores and Sarah’s shuffles coming through the children’s baby monitor were the only sounds as Émilie stared at Jack once the bedroom door closed. She held her tee shirt and bra in front of her as they faced each other. Then he stepped forward, she dropped her clothes and he took her in his arms again. The kisses were more urgent, mouths pressed together, and then he pushed her head down. A flat hand pressing on the top of her head signalled what he wanted.

She knelt on the bedroom floor and unfastened his belt. She could feel the bulge of his cock through his trousers and quickly tugged his trousers down to his knees. His cock made a tent in his silk boxer shorts. She looked up at him and smiled as she slowly peeled the elasticated waistband away from him, down over his cock to reveal it in its full glory.

A drop of precum glistened on the tip. She leant in and licked it off with her tongue and was rewarded with a moan of pleasure from Jack. Her fingers slid up and down the shaft, feeling the vein pulse. She pursed her lips and kissed the head. Then, holding it like a lollipop, she gave the head long, slow, languid licks as she pulled the foreskin back. The taste was so different from pussy but both flavours excited Émilie so much.

She looked up at Jack, knowing he was watching her kneel, topless, as her mouth kissed and sucked his cock. She opened her mouth and sucked the head inside. His wasn’t the largest cock she’d ever taken and drooled her saliva over his cock as she moved her mouth back and forth. One hand held the shaft while the other caressed his balls.

His fingers gripped her hair. Her eyes gazed up from under her fringe at him as she sucked him harder, taking more of his cock into her mouth. She dragged a finger along his perineum towards his arse. She felt him squirm as her finger caressed the tight, puckered sphincter of his arsehole. With a growl, he pulled her face off his cock.

Émilie sat back on her heels, a strand of drool connected her mouth to his cock for a moment before it broke and dripped down her tits. 

“You’re such a fucking whore,” he growled. He tugged on her hair. “On the bed, now.”

She clambered onto the bed.

“No, on all fours. Stick your arse in the air, you French slut!”

Émilie blushed but complied. She felt him push the skirt up around her waist and pull her panties to one side. She swallowed hard and buried her face into the sheets as she pushed her ass out higher.

She felt the bed sag as he climbed on. His weight causing her to sway slightly. He knelt behind her and she felt the head of his cock slide across her dripping wet slit.

Émilie was a little surprised when he lined his cock up at the entrance to her wet pussy. She’d expected a little foreplay at least but then he pressed it into her and everything was forgotten.

“Fuucckkkk.” She felt the air being forced out of her as his cock filled her. One hand reached forward to grip her hair. As he pushed his cock into her dripping pussy, he tugged on her hair, snapping her head back. His arse moved forwards and back. She watched him in the dressing table mirror. She could see herself, her head held up by his fist gripping her hair. Her eyes were glazed. Her tits hung down, swaying in rhythm with the thrusts of his hips against her ass. The cock inside her stretching her wet velvet walls.

His cock felt bigger inside her than it had felt in her mouth. He was just taking her, fucking her. No thought or attention for her. She was just a plaything, a fucktoy for him. He slammed his cock into her again and again and she loved it. 

She watched him rutting her in the mirror. Watched herself being fucked. Watched the orgasms build. Watched their faces contort as the rhythm increased. The slap slap slap and the squelch squelch squelch combined, overlapped, built and built and built until finally, she exploded, he exploded, they exploded. Spurt after spurt of hot white cum splattered the insides of her womb.

She collapsed onto the bed. Her head pressed into the mattress. She felt his weight on top of her, felt his breath on her neck and his cock softening but still buried inside her.

Finally, he pulled himself off her and stood up. She rolled onto her side to gaze up at him as he fastened his trousers.

“That was nice, Émilie.” He licked his lips as he grinned at her. “You really are quite the delicious little thing, aren’t you?”

He leant down and kissed her on the forehead. “See you soon,” he whispered and left the room.

Émilie slumped back onto the bed. “Merde,” she muttered. It wasn’t so much the fact that he just took her that shocked her. He was obviously a man who took what he wanted. It was the fact that she had somehow got involved with both husband and wife almost at the same time.

As Émilie lay on the bed, feeling Jack’s cum dribbling down her thigh, not for the first time she asked herself, “What have I got myself into?”

 

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.





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