Bonus for the Nanny Ch. 04

In the end, it didn't work out as I'd expected.

There was no interview. There was, however, the single most intense experience of my life to date, at least back then. I had never been needed so strongly, taken so fully, made to feel so meaningful as the way Will made me feel on that sad, wonderful day. It was the end of everything, the beginning of so much more.

But I suppose I should start at the beginning. Where were we...?

***

I sat there for fifteen minutes, awaiting my "interview".

The first five were exciting. I was squirming in my tight little-two piece suit, my panties warmly wet with excitement under my skirt, my nipples pressing through my bra and the shiny cloth of my jacket, making dark little bumps in the fabric. I allowed myself a little tease, smiling as I imagined Will inside his study, hard and ready but making me wait, preparing to probe me for the position at hand.

The next five made me anxious. What the hell *was* he planning, I began to wonder, that he'd need to keep me waiting here so long? Was I to be punished? Eek!

The next five made me bored. No noise from within, and I was beginning to feel silly, and to doubt myself. Had he changed his mind? Given up on me? Simply forgotten me?

But *how* could he forget me after all we'd done together? This was nuts. I stood up, took a deep breath, tried my best to ignore my racing heart and banged on the door.

No answer. I banged again. "Bastard" I muttered under my breath. And again. Still nothing. I turned the doorknob, flung open the door and stormed in.

Will wasn't there. The room was empty and in that instant, I experienced one of the worst moments of my life. I suddenly felt like a fool, like a tart, a dumb girl taken advantage of, not an equal but a victim. I walked over to his desk and knocked his lamp over, breaking it on the floor. Now I felt like an idiot. I began to cry.

A couple of minutes later, I was leaving the study and about to leave the house when I saw the staircase. He was out, I figured, so why not take revenge? Maybe I could cut up his ties. Wasn't that what people do to assholes like Will? I crept upstairs.

And on the landing, I heard him.

I didn't know what the sound was at first. I didn't even know it was human. It sounded like an animal, an animal that had been hurt, that lay dying. My heart caught in my throat, so affecting was the sound.

I made my way to the half open door of the master bedroom. I'd been inside it a few times when babysitting, after the boys were asleep. Primarily just to look, although once I'd lain on the bed and rubbed myself down below for a while, imagining Will was there with me, long before it all began. Before he really was with me. The bed, I now saw, was in a state. Unmade, and worse. A pillow was torn, feathers everywhere. It looked like a fight had taken place. The mirror on the dresser was broken, a bloody smear at its centre. There was also blood on the bed and the carpet. A trail of drips led to the walk-in wardrobe.

Oh my God. That was where the sounds were coming from. Had Will been attacked? Hurt? Killed?

My breath short, my heart beats blurring in a whirr, I stepped across the carpet, trying not to make a sound, and bracing myself for what I would see beyond the closet door. I closed my eyes.

Go home, a voice inside me said. Go home, never come back, forget this all happened. This is not your problem. *You* could be hurt, killed, or worse. Go home!

I opened the door.

I screamed.

***

In my defence, he screamed as well, backing away in terror from the doorway and the position he'd been slumping in on the floor when I'd opened the closet.

I stepped back too, my hands rising to my mouth to stifle my shock. The blood trail went to where he'd been slumping, and now on into the darkness where he'd slid. Stretching out a hand, I found the closet light. Harsh white lights leapt on, and Will flinched. He looked terrible – his hand, I now saw, was bleeding, he had blood marks on his face, his eyes were red and swollen, his body was shaking. He stretched out a hand, as if to ward off an attacker.

"Oh God no no" he rasped, in a broken voice verging on tears. "No Elly, no Elly, no."

Elly.

Elly?

I stepped into the light of the closet so he could see me properly. "Will? Will? It's me. Katie? Will, it's OK. It's just me. Just me. Look."

He stared at me, wide-eyed, holding his breath just as I was holding mine.

"Katie?", he then asked in a small, quiet voice, as if he'd never heard my name before. Then his face relaxed, or rather collapsed, exhausted and broken with grief. He'd remembered. "Oh Katie. Oh my. I'm... I'm so sorry."

He lifted the black cloth he'd wrapped his bleeding hand in – a silk dress? – to his face, sank into it, and wept. This was the sound I had heard from the stairs.

I crept forwards, and knelt quietly before him. 'Will?' My hand touched his leg. He recoiled, but I kept it there, steady, even though my arms were shaking.

"Will? What happened? What did you do?"

"I..." he began. "I..." But he couldn't begin to complete his thought, his shoulders shaking harder. I leaned forwards and, as best as I could in this awkward position, embraced and held him to my breasts.

Some time later, he could speak.

***

"I'd forgotten. Today was her birthday. All the excitement of you coming around" – I smiled back gently, hoping he'd continue – "getting the boys off, and then, as I was cleaning up this morning, choosing a suit to wear today... It hit me. It was today. Elly's day. Oh God... I felt sick. I'd forgotten. How could I forget something like that? And... Oh, I don't know, I felt like I'd betrayed her. Not just betrayed her, but danced on her fucking grave, what with all we've been getting up to, carrying on like this, like nothing has happened, like she never existed. I felt like a twat. I was so angry, so vilely angry. So I lost it."

He glanced around the view of the bedroom we could see from the back of the closet, where we were sitting side by side, the tops of our heads leaning together, motioning with his bloodied hand wrapped in the dark and delicate fabric.

"Then I crawled in here, and got her dress, the one I keep at the bottom of my closet. I held it, felt she was here again, so near, as if like she had only just left ..."

He was silent for a time.

"I'm sorry", he whispered. "I should have remembered our appointment, I should have..."

I took his broken hand in mine, shifting around to crouch in front of him again, and kissed the tips of his bloody fingers, tasting their saltiness. I liked it. He tasted of life.

"It's OK, Will. Shhh. You don't need to explain."

And gently, so as not to hurt him, I began to unwrap the sticky silk dress from his hand. He winced a little as it came off the deeper cuts from the mirror, but relinquished his grip.

Kneeling up a little, I smoothed the dress down against my body. Nearly a perfect fit, I couldn't help thinking. I'm a little fuller figured than Elly, but not so different.

Will stared at me.

A new look. One I've never seen since on a man.

I don't know why I did what happened next. Something inside me just knew what to do. I've never regretted it, any more than I regretted anything else that summer. But this was the turning point, the start of the end, and the beginning of the rest of my life.

I unbuttoned my jacket and it slid to the floor. I slipped my fingers under the straps of my bra and pushed them down my arms, then reached behind and undid the clasp. I removed the bra and dropped it, my bare breasts now exposed to him, heaving slightly with the excitement of the moment, a tiny flush of pink between them, rising up to my neck, my dark nipples shrinking and hardening still further in the cool, dark air. I unbuttoned my skirt and unwrapped it, letting it fall as I stood in from of him, my sticky little panties in front of his face. I could smell his blood, and now he could smell me too. I put my thumbs under their elastic and teased them down over my wet, furry mound. They made a lightly glistening, sucking sound as they came clear of my swollen lips. Now they fell down, too, and I stepped out of them. I didn't feel just sexually excited. I felt powerful. Will couldn't take his eyes off of me. He looked like he'd die if he did. He knew what was happening and was going to happen, and much as he wanted to stop it, he wanted it to happen as well. He needed it to happen.

I slipped her dress over my head and allowed the silk to glide slowly over my body. In spite of the sticky patches of blood, it slid into place, rather tight around my bust and hips, but hardly unflatteringly so.

One hand brushing down from my breast to my belly, and then down below, furrowing the fabric a little as, breathing audibly to show him my excitement, I extended my other hand to him. "Come." Not a request: an instruction. Shakily he stood, then he took my hand with his red, bloody fingers. I pulled him towards me. He stopped just an inch or two away.

"I'm not Elly", I said. "You know that."

Will stared at my young body in her dress, breathing hard, his torn shirt rising and falling with is breath like the arrow of his cock pressing up through his trousers.

"But I can be, just this once, if you want me to be."

I waited only seconds for his reply, but it felt like so much longer than the fifteen minutes I'd waited for him earlier in the day. It felt like fifteen years.

Than his quiet voice, stronger now. Darker.

"Yes", he said, "I do."

I didn't dare move. I had made my play. Now it was his turn. I had to let him lead this dance, to the death, to the ends of the earth. He reached out one palm and laid it flat against my left breast, the tip of my nipple pressing through the silky fabric as the warmth of its roundness spread out beneath his hardening touch. He closed his eyes and let out a long, quiet breath, his forehead falling to the skin above my breasts, where the low cut of the dress had once plunged deeply to show off her cleavage, and now displayed mine. He breathed me in, his other hand rising – the bleeding one – rising to take the other breast too. He sucked in air, harder this time. His grasp on my breasts became harder too, his finger tips pressing deeply into my flesh, and starting to hurt me. I winced, gasped a little, but I didn't dare stop him. His hands raked down my ribs from my tits, moving behind onto my lower back, like talons, then down to my hips, which were shaking like the rest of me, trembling with the weirdest, most exciting mixture of emotions and need, and then on to my ass, where they dug in harder still, pulling my buttocks into separate bunches of flesh, marking them as he'd already marked my boobs. Now I felt him starting to shake, his face no longer pressed against me, but pulling away from my chest to look down at my body in front of him, in Elly's dress, bearing his blood and his marks. His for his taking.

He rushed me. It was like some kind of tackle. The initial impact as he pushed me backwards and off of my feet didn't fully wind me, but the weight of his body slamming into me as we fell onto the bed brought stars to my eyes and knocked the breath out of my mouth. My head was now swimming, my vision red and black with whirling lights, as I felt him finding his way between my parted, shaking legs, tearing at his trousers, pushing upwards. His face was buried in the flesh of my breasts, sucking hard at them as the dress fell away to reveal their curves, leaving angry red marks as he did, I could tell, before attacking first my left nipple, then the right, sucking them so fully into his mouth and between his teeth that I gasped for air, before his teeth closed in on them, sharp enough to make me almost bleed.

And still I held my tongue. I knew that he needed this, that I had offered this and had to take it. And I also knew how much I wanted it too, more than I'd wanted any fuck in my young little life up till then. So I opened my legs wide for him, to help him find me with his now exposed cock, which I felt, along with the teeth of his fly, rough against my bare white thighs, jutting awkwardly and grazing as they pressed towards my wet, open cunt.

Indelicately, he jabbed it upwards, thrusting as if already deep inside me, the fat tip in my pubes, then knocking the top of my lips and my clit, then banging me just to the side of my pussy and then finally... oh God, straight, deep into me, half inside me with one single thrust, and then he moved his knees a little, raising his buttocks up and plunging his full weight against me at last, his cock burying right inside my tight, aching pussy, and I screamed, I just couldn't help it, I screamed and screamed his name, and he said hers, and he pushed and pushed and pushed, pushing all the way inside of me already, but as if he wanted to bury his body inside my wet hole, to press himself into my flesh – his mouth between my tits, his spit dripping onto me as he shook with the force of his effort to enter me, some animal sound in his throat, my breath now gone from me as I began to see stars again, mind whirling as the pressure inside me and on me build in tandem, and I tighten, reaching a moment of release...

And he came, and I came, my God how we came, all at once, our bodies as one, locked in struggle, a dark, bloodied mass of needs. Pressed hard against each other the whole time, we convulsed as if his pumping cock were a gun exploding inside me, each shot bursting my flesh, and my flesh in turn echoing each spurt with a ricochet of its own, dragging him into me fuller than before. His whole body racking against me, and I against him too, his arms now around my back, pulling me into him, so tight I couldn't breath at all, and I may have passed out as the waves of pain, pleasure and I don't know what fled throughout my entire being. I couldn't tell you.

I do know that, slowly, I felt the spasms starting to quell, and our bodies slightly move apart, still fully against each other, but not quite so deeply and painfully as before. I could breathe, and I kissed him on the top of his wet, sweaty head, now noticing the tears streaking down to either side of my breasts and pooling in the hollow at the base of my throat, as the after-shudders of his orgasm waned to a fluid, gentle twitching deep inside me. He was crying at my breast, ebbing along with the still warm pulse of my own long orgasm, which seemed as if it never would end, and yet at some point, well, I guess did.

Eventually, we lay still. I stroked his hair, and after a time, he stopped crying. Wet with fluids, the dress glued us together, and his hands released their hold on my back and slid slowly up to its shoulders. His mouth gently kissed me where his tears had gathered at the base of my throat, and then he turned his face up to kiss the pale skin beneath my chin, at the same time pulling the straps of the dress down over my shoulders. Able to move at last, I slipped my arms out of the dress and then crossed them behind his hard, gleaming back.

He kissed me on my swollen, bloody lips. And he said my name.

As he whispered it, our eyes met, and he smiled. A glorious smile, like the sun slitting clouds in mid-winter, new born and weak, but still there.

"Katie", he said again, "I..."

I put a finger to his lips and gently began to roll my hips beneath him, encouraging his no longer waning cock. I rocked a little stronger, moving it back and forth inside me, inviting it back to life.

"Will?" I asked him urgently, as I felt the heat starting to rise in me again, his lovely straight cock now hardening, its tip slipping deeper into me again as it grew and stretched out its head. "Take me. Please. Take *me* this time."

He began to match my hips' gentle movement with circles of his own, and at some point, those circles had little gaps at their peaks as our bodies sucked away from each other with a wet gulping sound, before he slapped down onto me again. Just small slaps at first, and I laughed at the sounds, gasping beneath him a little but smiling at the sensations, the tingling in my pussy picking up where my orgasm had left off before, tightening around the hot, swollen stalk of his dick.

Now he used his arms to lever himself up above me, looking down on me as he thudded into me, the shockwaves rippling through my bruised and bloody breasts, making them tingle still further. And suddenly he paused.

I looked at him, concerned - "Please don't stop" - but he smiled a warm, gentle smile, the smile I'd loved all these years, and then he grasped the silk dress where it lay bunched across my belly after riding up as we had fucked. His stiff cock impaling me, the muscles on his sinewy arms bulged as he pulled at the fabric with both hands. Finally, it split and gave way, tearing apart in one rip and then falling on either side of our bodies, like a discarded shroud.

His hands moved onto the headboard and his entire body, now taut, wet and hard, rose above me on his bed. Just using his hips and his legs, he began to ride me again. I was pinned beneath him but able to move and express myself fully, so my hands raked his chest as it breathed hard above me, little splashes of sweat raining onto me from above with each thrust.

"Pin me... pin me down", I heard myself urging him as his thrusts grew more frenetic, lifting my legs up suggestively so my ankles were grazing his arms. He placed one fist, then the other, down on either side of my shoulders, entrapping my legs against them, and I rolled my bum and lower back up as clear of the sticky black dress as they could go, the backs of my calves now coming to rest on his shoulders. I loved it: so stretched open, so vulnerable. We held the position together, staring into each others eyes, me loving the feel of his cock so deep inside me as to break my sinews and bones, him loving the fact that the smile on my face was stretching as wide as my buttocks and pussy beneath him. Then he began to thrust in and out of my hole, not delicately at all, and suddenly we were having the hardest, most magical fuck I could ever have imagined.

Wet sucking sounds as his cock came up out of my hole, holding it outside of me before plunging back in, each time the breath screeching from my body. Will fucked me like that, teasingly, and then faster still for thirty seconds, then again pausing at the top of each thrust, making me wait for him to impale me again, the juices dripping down off of his cock and out of my pussy, and trickling, I could feel, into the stretched, open hole of my ass, now gaping beneath him so invitingly. He did this several times more, in a cycle, and on each return I shuddered inside with the beginnings of another hard orgasm which would each time be knocked out of me as he brought his weight to bear on the job.

Then, the last time he paused, I took over. I reached down one hand and took his wet, slippery cock by the shaft, moving my hand down it to his balls, which tightened up beneath my fingers, and then sliding it back up to his tip resting at the entrance to my pussy, repeating that motion again and again, slowly and firmly, and then a bit faster. Will was loving it, and begging me not to stop.

"Make me cum, make me cum."

"No, not yet." Sliding up and down, up and down, squirming beneath him, knowing what was coming... "I want you to fuck me like a whore," I grinned, biting my bottom lip, and angling his stiff tip down from my cunt and towards my tighter little hole. "I want you in here, Will. Please, fuck me here."

I raised my butt towards him as much as I could, straining with the effort and pressing the wet, wrinkly flesh of my hole against the heat of his tip, which I held by the shaft as it pushed slightly into me, building pressure outside my ass, trying to break and enter me, to make me yet more fully his.