Bonus For The Nanny Ch 03

Dear Katie

It would be my pleasure to help you prepare for your university applications. The experience, I am sure, will be productive and rewarding for us both. May I suggest the following approach?

First, as I am sure you know, the key component of your university application is the personal statement. This is a short piece of prose, no longer than 500-1000 words, in which you must give a sense of your character and attributes, and why you want to be considered by the institution to which you have applied.

But, between you and me, what you really need to persuade the reader of is just how much you want it (your place at university, naturally...) and exactly what you are willing to do in order to get what you want.

Second, in order to whittle down prospective candidates to a manageable shortlist, it is common for prospective students to be asked to submit a short video recording of themselves to augment the written statement. The video should be viewed as another opportunity to put across exactly how much you want it and what you are willing to do to get it. It is also an opportunity for you to show off your personal attributes, character, flair, and precisely what the viewer can expect to get from you 'in the flesh', as it were, if he chooses to make you an offer.

Finally, you will be required to attend a short interview. This is your chance to impress and to leave your interviewer in no uncertain terms that not only do you want it, but that he wants you more than anybody else in the world, on behalf of his institution, who might apply for the same position. Please dress to impress: a formal suit would be appropriate. You need to look as mature as possible.

I therefore propose to hold a mock interview with you, at which I will also give you feedback on your video and written statement. To ensure I have ample time repeatedly to review your submitted materials before the interview, please put them through my letterbox sometime on Wednesday afternoon (a short clip burned to disk will be fine for the video, or if you prefer you can send it to my phone). Now, I recall you telling me that you have Thursday afternoons free. I will therefore expect you to arrive promptly at 2pm. To preserve a degree of formality, I will not welcome you to the house. Enter with your babysitting key and proceed to the door to my study. Knock, then sit down on the chair outside my room and wait.

Try to prepare yourself for the interview, which will be rigorous, detailed and probing.

I will call you in when I am ready to begin.

Kind regards

Will

***

My mother read it out at the breakfast table. Yes: the breakfast table. Will had posted it through our letterbox the morning after our 'not exactly' a date. Astonishingly, brazenly, madly, without an envelope. She had found it and now she was reading it out loud.

Oh. My. God.

My father barely looked up from his paper. My mother sighed (a little wistfully, I thought) and said, 'He's such a good man to make this time for you, you know Katie... after all, he's been through so much. You really must do your best to impress him and not let him down.' She gave me a strange little look, then passed me the letter and averted her eyes. Could she have guessed? Surely not.

Blushing beetroot red and bolting back my cornflakes, I nodded my agreement and managed a spluttered, 'I will. I mean, I won't. Whatever.' It was hard to concentrate, as phrases from the letter, which I now held with my shaking hand and reread again and again, bounced around my mind and started playing tricks on certain parts of my still sleepy body:

...show how much you want it... what you are willing to do to get it... show off your personal attributes 'in the flesh'... I will repeatedly review your submitted materials... the interview will be rigorous, detailed and probing...

And finally:

...he wants you more than anybody else in the world.

...he wants you more than anybody else in the world.

...he wants you more than anybody else...

'I'm going to take this up to my room and think it over' I managed to say, knocking back my orange juice, wishing it had a shot of vodka in it, then grabbing some fruit from the bowl for my lunch and scarpering upstairs just as my Dad said, behind me, 'Use the Digital Video Camera if you want, love.'

'Um, thanks Dad'.

I ran along the landing, slammed my bedroom door by leaning against it, locked it and immediately slid my hand into my pyjama bottoms, my fingers slipping straight into my wet, aching pussy. 'You bastard', I moaned, laughed and smiled, 'You wonderful bastard', as I rubbed hard little circles around my clit with two fingertips, like Will's tongue the night before, my other hand slipping under the elastic too, its fingers pushing into me. With no time for finesse, pure need took over and the orgasm building at breakfast broke through and rippled, then ripped, through my body. Oh my God, oh my God...

My knees gave way as I came, and I slid down the door frame, landing in a crumpled heap, and then began rubbing myself less urgently, half propped up against the wood, as I reread Will's letter carefully and began to consider the first part of my 'application'. As the knot of tension started building inside me again, I noticed the banana lying on the floor next to me - the one I had grabbed from the kitchen table - and I began also to imagine what I might do for Will on my video tape.

I'll tease you right back, I thought, and see if I can't do this to you.

With that, moaning softly, closing my eyes and unbuttoning my top so I could play with my boobs, I sank onto the floor and started coming all over again.

***

Personal Statement

Each night I lie awake and think of you. As moonlight slips in at the edge of my curtains, my fingers trace the soft, wet folds of my pussy's lips and I imagine they are you - your tongue, your mouth, your fingertips, your cock - as they slip inside me. But I make myself wait, running my hands up and down my naked body beneath the cotton sheet, over the round of my belly and the smooth, soft curve of my breasts, the hard points at their centre resisting, burning my palms as I press them. How I wish they were your hands.

I slide them slowly, so slowly, back down to my parted, swollen lips, and I arch my back, closing my eyes and opening my mouth, and gasping as my fingers enter me again. I run my tongue around my mouth's dry lips, imagining their wrinkles are the skin of your balls, then extend my tongue as I imagine tracing a line up to the base of you thick, throbbing cock.

I so, so want to suck your cock: this is what I want more than anything else in the world.

As my fingers slide inside me, I tingle all over my body, my nipples hard and throbbing, my body pulsing with desire, and I fantasize about taking you into my mouth, and tasting your warm, sticky precum. I want to lick all the way from the root of your shaft to your tip and then all the way down again, not touching it with my hands, just using my mouth to pleasure you as I simultaneously pleasure myself. I'd close my hot, wet mouth around your cock on one side, sliding up and then down, making you feel as if you are fucking the groove of my wet, slippy cunt, and then moving to the other side and repeating the movement, only harder, the grind of my mouth pulling back your foreskin and unveiling your bulging, red head. I haven't sucked it yet and I moan with desire and my own pleasure, my fingers beginning to make me cum, as I imagine the ooze of your precum dribbling down your dick as I work you with my mouth.

'Do you want me yet, do I meet your expectations?' I imagine asking you, as I look up at you with wide, hungry eyes.

'Do you want me to put your cock inside my mouth?'

I buckle a little as the edge of my orgasm ripples within me and I imagine running my tongue around the ridge of your tip, sticky wet and so needing to be taken into my mouth and sucked. To hold myself back, as much as you, I imagine slipping down again to your balls, sucking each in turn. Your skin, I fantasize, tightens and contracts, drawing them close to your cock, drawing the cum up it, as you find you cannot bear it any longer and start to beg. Offering tiny, flickering kisses to your shaft, I return slowly up the length of your throbbing, stiff cock, and I smile up at you as I reach the edge of the tip and my tongue plays at the ridge, my mouth and eyes now open wide, inviting you in, inviting you to come.

Now, one of my hands is spared from my pussy to take your cock firmly and angle into my mouth.

"Do you want me?", I would ask you, as I start to stroke your cock with my hand, also feeling my own body tighten up inside, ready to come. Then I'd place the broad tip of your cock on my tongue and start slowly to close my mouth all around the tip, about to suck you until you can't bear it any more and start to come harder than you've ever come before...

If you would like to discuss just how much you want me, I would be happy to attend an interview at your earliest convenience.

Kind regards

Katie

***

I'd masturbated so much writing the statement that I could barely keep a straight face for the video. Thinking my words would have put him into a state of despseration anyway, I decided to act out the fantasy, but teasingly, ironically, and with, crucially, a banana instead of his cock.

I put on some simple white lingerie, lay back on my bed, and faced the camera as I started to touch myself. I ran my hands all over my body, like I'd described, playing with my nipples, pulling them to make them stand out as impressively as possible, all the while remembering to roll my eyes in ecstasy (not all of it faked) and then look longingly into the camera, just like the solo girls I'd seen on Will's late night channels. First I rubbed myself through my panties, until the jucies of my pussy made the cotton of my knickers nice and wet. Then I pulled them so that the crotch disappeared up inside - at this point, enjoying the view from the camera on my PC monitor as it dumped the pictures straight onto my PC, I really started to get horny again. Then I slid them off, knelt up and undid my bra, playing with my breasts as it fell away, cupping them and licking at the nipples, which I loved, especially when I could see them tautening on the screen as the saliva evaporated, heat turning to cold on my skin, and in turn to desire.

Now I arched an eyebrow at the camera, reached behind me to beneath my pillow, and produced - ta-dah - my banana. Quite a large one. But not massive (best not to give him a complex). I tentatively ran it all over the front of my body, between my breasts, then sliding it down over my round little belly and between the parted lips of my pussy, moaning gently as I did so, my other hand in my hair, my eyes closing as I moved it back and forth, and then opening to look at the camera, saying with my eyes 'I wish this was your cock'.

I slid it into my pussy a little, moving it in and out - it had a weird, rubbery feel, not unpleasent, but not Will. I pretended it was and pushed it in further, moaning hard.

Then I brought it slowly up to my lips and licked it from tip to stem and back again, sucking the tip into my mouth. Then, leaning back to rest my backside on my feet, I unpeeled it slightly. Staring directly into the camera, I opened my mouth and rested the white flesh of the fruit's tip on my pink tongue, before closing my lips, agonizingly slowly, all around it and sucking it in. I closed my eyes in imagined ecstasy...

And then I bit down. I opened my eyes as I chewed, smiling naughtily at the camera, and waving bye bye at the moment, on my computer, I would make the video fade to black.

***

I skipped across the road, as ordered, at lunchtime on Wednesday, the brown padded envelope with the CDR and statement inside. I'd run the edges around my pussy lips before leaving the house, just so he'd know it was from me. Thursday was still a day away, I sighed, as I pushed it through the door. I went back to my house and up to my room, and then onto my favourite porn site to brush up on the perfect blowjob.

I didn't want to blow my interview. Just the interviewer, and his mind.

(To be continued)