What the Nanny Saw

Chapter 2: Who do you think you are?

Returning to the station in the late morning, having deposited Lydia at the airport for her return to Liguria, Inspector Romano stopped by the front desk.

"Hi Boss, how was your morning?" asked Catterina with a flirty wink. She toyed with her third button in a way he was sure was designed to catch his attention.

"Not that I don't appreciate the view," answered Romano, "but your uniform isn't up to code... there might have to be a... disciplinary action."

Catterina flushed with pleasure. "Mmm. Yes please." she breathed out. "Oh! Sargeant Carlo asked me to tell you to poke your head in if you came to the station this morning."

Romano did indeed stick his head into Carlo's office. "What do you have for me?"

Carlo looked up from his papers. "Boss, do you remember Lucco? We busted him years ago for smut dealing. Before the liberalization."

Romano gave a shake of the head and a "go on" gesture with his hand.

"Here, let me get the details," started Carlo.

"Oh for the love of god, Carlo, skip the biographics for once," begged Romano

"Fine," huffed Carlo, "I went to see Lucco to ask about the pictures forensics found. You know the extreme..."

"Yes, I haven't forgotten already, Carlo. I know I'm old, but I'm not that old. And they were... unforgettable."

"The one with the lady drinking from the other lady's... well you know... It's been going through my head all morning," said a slightly embarrassed Carlo. He cleared his throat and re-started. "Anyway, I went to ask Lucco, because they are kind of extreme and definitely unique and I thought he might know where they came from."

"Uh hu, and what did he say?"

"Lucco figures it was Bonsignore who made them. Or had them made. There was a rumor of a sale of content a year ago, that he said sounded very much like what I described."

"Oh?" answered Romano

"Not just that, boss. He said there might have been more. He wasn't sure of anything, but there were whispers of trafficking. Or something. He clammed up a bit, though. I thought it might have occurred to him that the mafia was involved."

"No one will talk if it's the mafia," sighed Romano, already starting to regret this new case. "We all like our heads without extra holes."

Romano poked his face into his own office. He saw the ever expanding pile of paperwork on his desk and immediately turned around. Did the paperwork multiply? Could it accomplish asexual reproduction?

"I'm off to Enzo's for lunch," he told Catterina as he glided past. Did she have another fucking button undone? Santa Madre! She would be the death of him.

Enzo found him a quiet table away from the crowd. Enzo, Romano's favorite restaurateur, knew the Inspector liked two things - plenty of fresh fish and peace to eat it in. "I have fresh red mullet today," he offered. "We can pan-fry with lemon and olive oil... a few breadcrumbs?"

"Two, please," answered Romano, needing a recovery from the draining Lydia had given him. Was that just this morning? "And do you have any more of that Baugna Cauda to start, with a bit of bread?"

"Right away, Inspector."

For Romano, eating in silence was a sacred ritual. On the rare occasions when he dined with others, like when Lydia was in town, his companions knew, or soon learned, not to talk till after the meal. Romano took a digestive walk along his favorite jetty after he finished. He thought about the pictures and wondered just how willing the women had been. Certainly they seemed participative enough. But pictures could lie. He thought about Giulia and what she might have seen. With a wave to a returning fisherman, he turned and walked back toward the station.

On his return to the station, the first thing that caught his eye was Catterina's bra. Or its absence, really. Had she really gone and removed it, or had he just not noticed before. No. He might be getting past his prime, but a braless woman never escaped his attention.

"Officer Ferraro," he called to her as he walked past, "My office in five minutes please. There's a disciplinary matter we'll have to discuss."

Romano had managed to clear one pile of paperwork, by blindly signing where he found a sticky tab... no reading or considering what he was agreeing to... when a knock at the door signaled that his wayward desk officer had arrived. "Come in," he called out.

Catterina stood formally at attention in front of his desk, after closing... and locking... his office door. The minx had actually undone yet another button. It was a miracle the uniform shirt stayed on.

"We have dress rules and regulations, officer. Which you well know. I can't have my personnel prancing around half undressed. What are we going to do with you?"

There was a light in Catterina's eyes. "Sir, I've been bad. Very, very bad. And therefore, it's only appropriate I be punished." She stepped forward. Maintaining an intense eye contact, she slowly leaned forward till her forearms rested on the desk. Now her tits did spill out of her top. Hard nipples scraping the surface of the desk. She slowly reached back and pulled at the hem of her uniform skirt, wiggling till her ass was uncovered.

Romano got up and circled the desk. As he came around the side, he noted that the bra wasn't the only underwear she'd lost, or never had. "Officer Ferraro, it pains me to do this, but rules are rules."

The echo of his swats against her round, creamy bottom rang in his office. He hoped to god the sound didn't carry. Catterina moaned and softly cried out. But not in pain he thought, and then confirmed as he rubbed her stinging ass and felt the wet during a momentary contact with her pussy. Now dripping.

He rubbed some more, then, and she was mewling like a cat.

"I've been the bad one," said Catterina, turning and pushing him back into the guest chair, "so it's only right that I service you. Do I have your permission to touch myself while I do it?

Romano, so entranced by her firm tits bouncing as she bent to free him from his pants and starting to stroke his now hard cock, neglected to answer at first. And like the good girl she was at heart, Catterina's other hand stayed off her pussy.

But when he'd given his assent, she got busy, her mouth on his cock and her hand on, and in, her wet pussy.

"I've been such a bad girl," she mumbled around his cock. Enjoying the idea as much as the experience of him in her mouth, thought Romano. He had no complaints, though. She could make miracles with her tongue. Licking while she sucked. Even reaching his heavy balls, once, when she got him particularly deep.

The wet sounds of her self-attentions, joined the slurp of her sucking. Romano was entranced by the music of it. A symphony. An opera, in fact. Better than Puccini.

The thought amused him enough that he missed it when she started to beg. "Please sir, give me your cum. Please give it to me. Give it to me and I'll come for you. Make me your good girl."

Romano was nothing, if not a supportive commander and soon was pumping a load into her mouth. When the cum hit her tongue, she shuddered and groaned. He might not be an expert in all things women, but it was unmistakably a genuine orgasm. A serious one, as she shook and groaned for some time, a single tear leaked from the corner of her eye.

After Catterina had cleaned him and put him away. And re-buttoned up, all the way, he noted. Romano grabbed his jacket and headed to the cafe for an espresso. An afternoon ristretto, per tradition.

Who should be coming out of the shop as he started to enter, but Giulia, the downy nanny. What a coincidence.

"Signorina, what a lovely surprise," exclaimed Romano. The young woman looked at him puzzled. "We met, last night, or very early this morning, at the big house."

"Ohh," she answered, "of course. It was all so crazy and I'm so tired." She pointed softly at her coffee. "You are..."

"Inspector Romano," he supplied. "I'm leading the investigation into Monsignore Bonsignore's death?"

She flushed and nodded. "I'm so sorry, I'm late, for the... uh... children," she answered as she started to hurry away.

"Come by the station tomorrow to give us a statement," Romano yelled after her retreating back.