Most nights I would find Claudette slumped over the small white kitchen table, sobbing away into a tall crystal class of expensive Merlot. As much as I wanted to comfort her, I did her best to stay away. After all, I was a babysitter and not her therapist.
I was a senior college student and was taking night evening classes. Looking for a way to cover my tuition cost, I answered an ad in the local newspaper. Claudette and her husband were looking for a nanny to help care for their two young children. Being from a very large family, my interest perked up. If there was anyone in my college who knew a thing or two about babysitting it would probably be me. After a quick interview and a few short phone calls, I was hired to live with them in their massive mansion on the west side of town.
Even though I was living in someone else's home, I loved that I had my own room. Usually I would have to share my room with two of my younger sisters. Also, the couple was quite wealthy and my pay was well beyond average. The wealthy couple treated me as one of their own. Even though I hated taking advantage, I couldn't resist being spoiled by them on their extravagant monthly shopping trips.
I probably could have bought anything clothes I wanted. But my favorite outfits were tight denim blue shorts, simple cotton T-shirts and white tennis shoes. I loved that I finally didn't have to wear my sister's ugly hand me downs, and could finally express myself.
Dealing with Claudette's two little ones had its challenges. They would often cry at odd hours while Claudette and her husband would be out working late. When they were both home together, they would spend most of their time fighting back and forth. As the year went on, the fighting between Claudette and her husband only seemed to worsen. Of course this made the kids even antsier, and it became harder to shush them.
Like most nights, it was pretty obvious why Claudette was crying. Their marriage had clearly been falling apart for awhile. David was always hurling insults, and being verbally abusive towards Claudette. He would show up drunk at all hours of the night screaming and yelling at her at the top of his lungs. David was a dental surgeon and made triple her salary as a realtor, and took any opportunity to use it as leverage.
When he had nothing else to belittle her about, he would lash out at her for putting on weight. Although she clearly put on weight, she was still one of the most beautiful women I'd seen. She was a tall plus-size woman, and the weight she put on only seemed to add to her perfect figure. I hated the way he put her down like that, she deserved so much better. If only she knew I was bisexual, and that her blonde-hair blue-eyed babysitter constantly fantasized about her.
Usually the fighting would simmer down, and Dave would either go upstairs or fall asleep drunk by the TV in his big lazy-boy chair. Claudette would stomp up the stairs and slam the bedroom door or cry into a glass of wine until she drank herself numb.
Late one night after their fighting had subsided, I heard Claudette stumbling down the hallway towards her bedroom. I waited a few minutes before deciding to check to see if she was ok. I pushed open their bedroom door, and could hear the shower running from her bathroom. Her black high heels and the rest of her clothes were in a messy pile just outside the open bathroom door. I could hear her humming along to an old rock tune as the steam poured out of the open bathroom door. Through the glass shower door, I could see the silhouette of her naked body slowly rocking back and forth while she lathered a layer of soap up and down her body.
She continued to rock back and forth while slowly soaping her perfect large breasts up and down. Her breasts were so much bigger than mine. I used to get made fun of because of how tiny my little A-cups were. Claudette's were so big that she probably needed costume made bras.
I continued to watch her, as she stopped soaping her breast and began to run the soap along her backside. Her chest pressed tightly against the shower door, as she continued to soap her upper back. Through the hot steam, I could see her thick purple areola's surrounding her hardened nipples that were pressed right up against shower glass. Oblivious to me staring in, she began to soap the front of her body.
Once she had created a soapy layer on her belly, she began to rub the soap and up and down between her thick thighs. Her long brown hair had fallen down over her breasts, making them much harder to see but her left nipple was still perfectly visible. It was pressed so hard against the glass, that I could see it through the layer of condensation on the shower door.
She switched to singing a different rock song, and continued to hum as she began to run the soap up and down her inner thigh. The shower was still so steamed up, that I could barely see what she doing. Her hand moved back and forth between her legs, causing a thick layer of soap suds to form on her crotch. As she washed the layer of soap off her naked body, it became clear that most of her crotch was covered in a thick layer of pubic hair.
I couldn't believe how much pubic hair she had. I was always self-conscious about making sure my pussy was clean shaven. Claudette dressed well, and always took good care of her body. But her she was with a massive layer of dark brown pubes, nesting between her thighs. Somehow it looked really good on her, good enough for me to gawk at her through the bathroom door. As the steam evaporated, I took one last look at her naked body pressed against the glass. Even only she knew how badly I wanted to touch her.
Seeing that she was ok, I started to quietly leave the bedroom. Just as I started to tiptoe out of the bedroom, I heard her soft moaning coming from behind the shower door. I stood by the bathroom, and peeked back in again. I had to be careful in case she noticed me, or one of the kids saw me staring in at their naked mother. Or even worse, her hot tempered husband would come upstairs and lose his shit on me. I couldn't simply ignore the soft tingling feeling between my denim shorts.
The shower head was no longer up on the hook, and Claudette had placed the back of it against her hairy pussy. She was tightly grasping the top of the glass shower door in one hand, and holding the shower against the patch of hair in the other. Her body seemed to shake all over, and she began moaning louder and louder. She was so busy pleasuring herself with the back of the shower head that she was oblivious to me peeking in at her. She let out one last moan, and placed the shower head back up on the hook. Just as she grabbed her towel, I quickly ran out of the bedroom.
I tiptoed down the hallway to my bedroom, worried I had peed through my tight denim shorts. My thin blue cotton panties were soaking wet, and something was dripping down my left thigh. My panties were so wet that they had soaked though into the shorts, causing a big wet patch on the inner crotch. I unbuttoned my shorts and pulled my underwear down past my knees, it wasn't pee at all. The tingly sensation from watching Claudette had caused me to swell up and my panties to soak through.
I reached up inside my tight pink shirt and toyed with little pink nipples. Somehow they had become swollen and seemed to be numb. I reached into my top drawer and put on a pair of dry pink cotton panties, and a fresh pair of blue denim shorts. Just as soon as I got under the covers, there was a big commotion coming from downstairs.
The yelling was coming from the kitchen, and was getting louder and louder. Both of the little ones had been woken up, and I could hear them crying from down the hallway. The fighting was much louder than it usually was. It was clear from his slurred shouting, that David was more drunk than usual. I was sure he was fast asleep, but I guess he woke up and drank again.
I wanted to go down to help her but I was terrified of David. He was a big burly guy with a very bad temper. Both of the kids began to cry again, as the yelling got louder and louder. As soon as the yelling subsided, the sound of dishes being thrown all over the kitchen floor began. I hugged both of them tight in my arms, until all the noise finally stopped.
The entire house seemed to shake as her husband slammed the front door shut. As soon as his car peeled out I knew it was over. Once the kids fell back asleep, I went downstairs to check on Claudette.
There were so many broken plates and cups that I had to tiptoe all over the kitchen floor. Claudette was sitting at the kitchen table, with her head buried deep in her arms. Her body was shaking, and she was sobbing loudly. She never smoked, but the half-lit cigarillo on the table said otherwise. I quietly grabbed the broom, and swept up the nearby shards of glass away while she continued sobbing oblivious to me cleaning around her.
Once the glass had been completely cleaned up, I went over to comfort her.
