The Nanny

Barbara came home from another date that left her more empty than the ones before. The house was quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator. Abby, who usually left right after the sitter duties ended, was still there, flipping through a magazine at the kitchen table. Barbara poured two glasses of wine without asking if the girl wanted any. They talked about nothing at first—small complaints about parking downtown and how dates never matched their pictures. Then the talk turned. Abby said she had never once come home disappointed by a woman. Barbara’s eyebrows lifted. She started asking little questions that grew bigger: what it felt like, who usually led, whether it was gentler or rougher than with men. Abby answered calmly, directly, watching how Barbara’s mouth opened a fraction wider each time. When Barbara admitted she had never touched another woman, Abby stood, walked around the table, and kissed her. Slow. Barbara’s breath caught. The kiss deepened. Abby’s hands slid beneath the hem of Barbara’s dress, pushing the fabric up her thighs until it bunched at her waist. Barbara sat back on the edge of the table. Abby dropped to her knees, hooked two fingers around the thin band of Barbara’s panties, and eased them down. She parted Barbara’s thighs with both palms and leaned in, tongue stroking deliberately over her clit, then lower, tasting her with long, wet drags. Barbara’s fingers tangled in Abby’s blonde hair, pulling her closer. Abby moaned softly into her, the vibration making Barbara’s hips jerk forward. She stayed on her knees until Barbara’s legs began to shake and her breath turned into broken little sounds. Then Abby stood, undressed her own clothes, and guided Barbara’s hand between her legs so she could feel how wet she had become. They moved to the living room couch. Barbara lay back, and Abby climbed over her, settling so their pussies pressed together. She rocked her hips in a slow grind, slick against slick, clits brushing with each careful movement. Sweat gathered at the small of Barbara’s back. Abby leaned down to kiss her again, tongues sliding, breath hot. Barbara’s hands gripped Abby’s ass, urging her faster, deeper. When Abby reached between them to circle Barbara’s clit with two fingers, Barbara came hard, thighs clamping tight around Abby’s wrist. She returned the favor, rolling Abby onto her back and sliding two fingers inside her, curling them until Abby’s breath stuttered and she spilled over Barbara’s hand. Afterward they lay tangled, skin cooling, the taste of each other still on their tongues. Barbara realized the night no longer felt empty.