Sophia

Sophia would always remember the day that Valentýnka arrived. After an Indian summer, the weather had decided to turn that very morning. Temperatures tumbled and the rain had been incessant for the past twenty minutes.

'Come on in,' said Sophia, after she had been summoned to the door. 'Heavens, you look like a drowned rat!'

'I'm dripping on your floor.'

'Don't worry about that. I'll get you a towel, then we'll get you changed into some dry clothes.'

'No, really, a towel will be enough.'

'I won't hear of it. I don't want you catching your death on your first day. I'd never be able to hire another helper!'

Sophia fetched a towel from the airing cupboard and once Valentýnka was out of her shoes she led her up to her bedroom to find some clothes.

'Now let me see. Would jeans do? You might find them a bit loose but then you haven't had any children yet.'

She brought her a pair from the wardrobe.

'I'll just pop into the dressing room through here to pick you out a T-shirt and a sweat-shirt. How does that sound?'

She was gone for less than a minute. When she returned she was brought up short by the sight of the Czech girl in just her bra and panties.

'Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise you would be so quick,' said Sophia, averting her eyes from her slender body.

'Look, here we are,' she added, holding out the clothes at arms' length as if she feared catching or transmitting the plague. 'I'll see you downstairs when you're ready.'

'Phew!' she said to herself when she got back to the kitchen. 'Should I call the whole thing off? Or is this just a Czech thing? Perhaps I ought to establish some boundaries? But what am I talking about? The poor girl just got soaked to the skin. Maybe I should have offered her fresh bra and panties? No, that would be creepy.'

Sophia was put out of her agonising by Valentýnka's arrival in the kitchen. She was struggling to keep her jeans up.

'You hang on there a moment and I'll sort you out with a belt.'

'Thank you,' said the new girl.

Sophia realised it was the first thing she had said for several minutes.

Suitably accoutred, Valentýnka accepted Sophia's offer of a cup of coffee and a piece of toast. They sat at the kitchen table and talked about Valentýnka's duties in more detail. Sophia also filled her in on the children's weekly schedule, both at pre-school and in the afternoon. Basically, they would spend most afternoons with their new nanny at home. Once they had finished their coffee, Valentýnka cleared away the crockery and washed it up in the sink.

'Thanks a lot,' said Sophia, 'but actually you can use the dishwasher. We usually put it on once a day after we've had dinner. Perhaps this is as good as time as any to show you how the various machines work.'

Sophia took her new employee on a tour of the house, starting with the ground floor, including the children's playroom, which was in an annexe near the double garage, and continuing with the first floor, where the children's room was.

'They sleep in the same room. We prefer it that way and so do they - at least for the time being. They're both pretty messy, but Chloe is worse than Ollie. This is the children's bathroom and next door is their loo. We have a couple of spare bedrooms down the corridor, one of which we use as an office. Now, let me show you the attic.'

They walked up the carpeted stairs to the second floor, which commanded fine views of the river from the rooms at the back. A store room here, a room where I play music when I can find the time here, a bathroom, and here we have your room.'

Sophia turned to Valentýnka to catch her reaction. At first, she didn't appear to comprehend and then she suddenly embraced Sophia and kissed her on both cheeks.

'Thank you so much. I did not dare to hope that I would have my own little room. And it is so beautiful with such a wonderful view of the Thames.'

'Of course, we don't mean for you to live in, but it's just somewhere where you can keep your things. And then there may be the odd occasion when you would like to stay over, or if you'd like to earn a bit more money doing some baby-sitting then you'd have a place to sleep if you didn't want to go home late at night.'

Valentýnka was as animated as Sophia had ever seen her - glowing almost. She felt happy that she had made the girl happy. Perhaps she was missing her family back home. Maybe things hadn't been so good recently with her 'girlfriend'.

'If I do some baby-sitting,' said Valentýnka, with a very earnest look on her face, 'I would not wish to accept any money. You are already paying me above the market rate and I have great gratitude to you.'

'Well, we'll see about that.'

Sophia saw that her eyes were puffy and that she was on the verge of tears. Resisting the urge to wrap her in her arms, she told her that she hadn't shown her the garden. When they got downstairs, she realised it was still raining, so instead of that, Sophia took her back into the kitchen and showed her the meals she had planned for the week ahead and asked her if she could cook a couple so she could get used to the hob and the oven. Valentýnka said she would cook every night if Sophia wanted her to, but Sophia said that wouldn't be necessary this week. As for the weeks to come, she was thinking of asking her to look after Monday-Wednesday-Friday and Tuesday-Thursday in alternate weeks. Of course, she said, she only expected her to prepare the meals in advance so she could get away by six thirty as agreed at the interview. She and Peter would heat them up when they were ready to eat. She was also welcome to cook extra for her own dinner and that of her 'flatmate'. She had plenty of Tupperware that she could use.

Valentýnka seemed delighted with these arrangements. As for the rest of the morning, Sophia told her she should have a good look through the kitchen cupboards and the larder to see where everything was kept, and make a list of anything she needed for cooking. After that, she could dust and hoover upstairs and tidy up the kids' room. She herself needed to go out shortly and wouldn't be back till after around two o'clock. She could always call her if she needed to ask her about anything. As first days go, Sophia thought, as she reversed the car out of the garage, this one had gone remarkably smoothly so far. She congratulated herself on choosing such a fine young woman. It only remained to be seen if she could actually cook, clean and look after children. Of her feelings for her, she tried not to think at all, as she turned the music up in the Audi.

TWELVE

'So what do you think of her?' asked Sophia of Peter, as they ate the dinner Valentýnka had prepared for them on Friday evening.

He'd been given half the day off after his exertions over the weekend and had met the Czech girl for the first time that afternoon.

'She seems very efficient. Good with the children, as far as I can tell, even if they're not used to her no-nonsense all-action approach. She cooks well, too. I can't find much to find fault her with, if I'm honest.'

'But what do you think of her as a

woman

?'

'She's a bit dark, maybe. I don't really know. I've only just met her.'

'Come on, Peter! Do you find her attractive?'

'Darling, she can't hold a candle to you. It's that Carrie, isn't it? She's been filling your head with all this nonsense about the man of the house bonking the au pair.'

'Wouldn't you like to bonk her then?'

'For God's sake, Sophia, she's just a kid. And she's not my type anyway.'

'She's at least 25. And what exactly is your type anyway?'

'You know who my type is. This is silly. You're just fishing for compliments.'

'Do you want to fuck me now? Sod the dishes!'

'Sophia, what's got into you? Are you on something?'

'Is that a rejection? Many men would jump at the chance of getting into my pants?'

She reached under the table and grabbed his cock through his trousers. It was already tumescent.

'Cut the crap, Peter! Bobby never lies.'

She led him, still rather bemused by his wife's line of questioning and general demeanour (had she been watching a porno, he wondered?), into their bedroom, catching a glimpse of the damp patch on the carpet near her dressing room, where Valentýnka had stripped down to her underwear. Her libido in overdrive, she undressed Peter, trying to dismiss images of the olive-coloured skin of the Czech girl with the birthmark on her shoulder; of her little breasts covered by the white bra; of the white panties shielding her most private part. As she pulled down his boxers, she took him in her mouth in one easy movement. His penis swiftly became further engorged as it deep-throated her oral cavity, her tongue working overtime to keep up.

'Fuck me from behind, fuck me like a dog! Punish me for being so shitty to you.'

Stunned as he was, Peter, now convinced that she had been watching porn online, had no trouble assuming the role of the aggressor.

'Get down on all fours, bitch. I am going to rape you.'

He felt a bit self-conscious about saying this but he had heard that it was a recurring fantasy for many women. Whatever, it seemed to have the desired effect. Sophia ripped her clothes off and got down on the bed, wantonly displaying her ass to him. For a fleeting moment, Peter had visions of driving his penis inside her asshole. He'd thought about it before but had never asked Sophia if she would be comfortable with it. 'Maybe that's an unfortunate choice of words,' he thought.

As if reading his mind, Sophia suddenly said, 'Stick it in my ass!'

'But don't we need to you know use some -'

'I said stick it in my ass! Fuck me senseless!'

Still confused, Peter felt he had no option but to accede to his wife's wishes. Already turned on, his nerve endings fair shot through the roof when he saw Sophia peel her puckered hole apart with her fingers. Needing no second invitation, he eased his helmet against her opening. Feeling less resistance than he expected, he manoeuvred himself so that he was in a position to drive his advantage home.

'Take that, bitch!' he said, as he pushed it in an inch or so, eliciting whelps from his wife.

Encouraged, he pushed himself further inside, reaching round to grab her breasts, handling them anything but gently.

'You like it, don't you, wife?'

Sophia could only groan in response. He began to establish a rhythm, surprised at how easily his penis negotiated the passageway. Taking his hands off her breasts, he started riding her like a bucking bronco, whooping with delight. With so much new happening and so much to concentrate on, he never thought he would be able to come, but he was wrong.

As he felt the familiar wave sweeping through his stomach, he shouted out in triumph.

'Take that, have all of me! You been gagging for it, bitch, and now you finally got it!'

For many years afterwards, they joked about his 'gangsta rap shit' that came from no one knew where.

As they lay together in their post-coital glow, Peter asked Sophia what was responsible for the change that had come over her.

'Don't get me wrong. It's great; I like it. But, it's like a different you. Is there something you haven't been telling me? Have you met a man? Was it at the wedding?'

'Oh, Peter, do you have such little faith in me?'

'Is it Carrie, then? Has she been taking you places or showing you porn sites?'

'"Taking me places"? What do you mean?'

'Well, you know, to shows...sex shows. That kind of thing.'

'No, of course not. She's not a madam. She just likes talking dirty sometimes.'

'Well, it's - like I say - it's not something I'm complaining about. It's good to spice up our sex life, but it's like a different you sometimes.'

'Okay, I can try to be prim and proper if you prefer that. What about you? You were like a man possessed tonight. You weren't thinking of our new little helper, I hope, were you?'

'Oh, Sophia, you're impossible. Are you trying to set me up with her? Is it some sort of test you require me to pass?'

'Not your type, eh?'

'You know very well I have only one type and that is you. By the way, I need to travel again in a couple of weeks. Just a couple of nights. At least that's what they're saying at the moment. I'm off with Jeff to Stockholm to meet up with potential clients who have a few krona kicking around that they want to invest.'

'Oh you asset management types have all the fun.'

'Never a dull moment disbursing ill-gotten gains.'

'Talking of laundry, we need to get a new washing machine. Valentýnka says it was smoking today and making funny noises.'

'Do you know what model you want? We could get one this weekend.'

'Leave it to me. I'll ask around a bit, maybe do a bit of Googling.'

'By the way, can't we come up with another name for the new girl? Valentýnka is such a mouthful.'

'Why don't you ask her? Maybe she's okay with being called Val.'

'Val sounds so middle-aged, though, somehow.'

'Tynka doesn't have a lot going for it either.'

'Goodnight, darling. My eyes are closing.'

'Goodnight, you animal!'

THIRTEEN

The children were back at pre-school, Myška (as Valentýnka had asked them to call her - apparently, it meant 'little mouse' in Czech) had settled in well and was slowly winning the trust and affection of the children, and Peter was in Sweden. Sophia was still a week or so off starting her new job and enjoying her last days of freedom. Little did she realise how much she would enjoy this particular Thursday on the eve of the autumnal equinox.

It all started with an innocent comment she had made in the afternoon about her back - how it was giving her some trouble again. Myška had said she might be able to help her but then something had come up and the conversation had been dropped. After they had all eaten tea that evening - Sophia liked to eat together with the children, as she felt it would help them develop good habits and strengthen their bonds as a family - and Sophia had put the children to bed, Myška, who often stayed on till half seven or so before heading off home, approached her employer, who was checking emails on her laptop in the kitchen. Without looking up, Sophia asked if she needed her.

'You mentioned earlier that you had a back problem. I think I can help you. I am a qualified masseuse and if you have half an hour or so to spare, I think I can work out your kinks.'

'What, this evening?' Sophia replied, rather more bluntly than she intended. 'Don't we need a special table or something?'

'I have a massage table in my room,' Myška replied. 'Maybe we could set it up down here.'

'Oh, wow! I wasn't expecting this. Well, okay, why not? If you really don't mind.'

Sophia had a vision of Myška's hands working on the small of her back and had to snap herself out of her reverie.

'Okay, I'll go get the table.'

'Do you need a hand?'

'No, it's easy for one person.'

Myška started to make her way from the kitchen but Sophia called her back.

'Oh, look, why don't you set it up in my room? It's not so far to travel and there's a bit more space.'

'Sure - whatever you want,' Myška replied with an enigmatic smile.

'God, why did I say that?' thought Sophia, tingling in anticipation of feeling the Czech girl's hands on her body. 'I wonder if she will use oil? And what should I wear for the massage? Just a towel? God, I'm excited and we haven't even started.'

'Wow, that looks professional!' said Sophia, when she saw the massage table all set up, covered by a white sheet. 'I hope it can take my weight!'

'Okay, so what's wrong with fishing for the odd compliment,' she thought.

'It could take three of you,' said Myška in all sincerity.

'Right then, I guess I need to get ready.'

'Do you want me to go out while you change. I've left a towel on the table. It's clean and fresh. Actually, it's new.'

The colour rose to Myška's cheeks. She turned and started to leave the room.

'It's okay, we're all girls together, aren't we? And you're going to be seeing plenty of me in a minute.'

'God, was that too much? She's only meant to be doing my back, after all,' she said to herself.

'Did you say you would be using oil?'

'Yes, unless you don't want me to. But, don't worry - it doesn't stain or anything. It's water-based with essential oils added: bergamot, lavender and that sort of thing.'

'Oh, right, anyway probably easier for you if I didn't wear a bra.'

'Whatever makes you feel comfortable,' said Myška, feeling none too comfortable herself. She had, after all, only worked there for three weeks. She liked her work and didn't want to get the sack. She would have to be very careful to read the signals correctly - if they

were

signals. In her heart, though, she knew they were. But was Sophia just toying with her or did she really want more than a massage? And if so, how much more?

Without turning her back, Sophia started to unbutton her blouse, slowly, not looking at her masseuse, but not exactly looking away either. She tossed it casually on the bed. Myška resisted the impulse to fold it and put it away in the dresser. She stood there for a few seconds daring her helper to look at her well proportioned bust and relatively flat stomach. Instead, Myška kept her eyes averted and her head lowered a fraction.

Slowly she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting into fall into her hands of its accord after making the slightest chest motion. Still, Myška remained still, looking vaguely across the room.

'Do you want me on my front?' Sophia asked, somewhat redundantly.

'Please. You will find a hole in the headrest so you can lie more comfortably.'

'I don't want to crease this,' said Sophia, unzipping her skirt and letting it fall to the floor.

Myška started to move towards the skirt but checked herself. Somehow, she didn't think it was what her employer wanted. It lay there on the carpet six feet from the table.

Sophia got onto the table and slid herself forward until she was comfortable with her head in the gap. Myška moved forward and brought Sophia's hair into a bunch and tied it with a rubber band. She then applied some lotion to Sophia's shoulders, rubbing her alternately with the flat and the fist of her hands. She then used her fingers to dig deeper into her muscles, using the odd chop to release the tension.

'How does that feel?' she said.

'Good,' Sophia replied, silently urging Myška to continue her journey southwards.

Rather than that, she started to work on her arms, taking each in turn and ending by pulling on her fingers, which Sophia didn't care for overmuch. She then returned to her back and gradually worked down towards her panty line, pausing occasionally to apply her herbal concoction. Sophia slithered slightly in an attempt to encourage her to transgress boundaries.

'Slide the pants down, for God's sake, and massage my ass,' was her wordless communication.

When she arrived at the barrier of her pink panties, Myška asked Sophia if she would like her to do her legs, since all the muscles in the body were interconnected. Having received her boss's assent, she moved to her feet and spent time on the sole and the heel. Moving up her legs, she marvelled at the definition in her calves before moving up to her hamstrings. She rubbed hard along the outside of the legs between knee and hip before using both hands to spread Sophia's legs. She then began working on the inside of her thighs, eliciting sighs which she could sense rather than hear. After a few minutes, Sophia felt the Czech girl's fingers slipping under the fabric of her panties, before gingerly exploring the margins of her orbs. Uncertain how best to communicate her desires with her face stuck in the head rest, Sophia decided that body language was the way to go. She lifted her ass as a signal to Myška that she should slide the cotton off her glutes.