Dodo Kindje Do

English is my second language. Actually, it's my third or fourth language. My native tongue is Dutch but many of us also speak French in the capital. I've also picked up some German, (goes with the territory). We ALL learn a bit of English, it's almost impossible not to regardless of where you live, but I didn't consider myself fluent until I got some practice in America.

I left home because I wanted to escape my family, especially my father. He has such unreasonable expectations. He's so much tougher on me than my half-brothers. He thinks because he loved university, I should love university. He thinks I should be trying to become a doctor like he did, like my mother had wanted me to be. She died when I was 11 (cancer) & he remarried. I know he wants to make sure he did a good job raising me, he feels like he owes it to her memory. But sometimes, he's too strict, too pushy. I needed to go somewhere, spread my wings. I chose the USA because it was far away.

America's very conservative. I thought it would be more like the shows & movies I'd watched but it's not really like that, unless you go to one of the big cities & even there, it's not the same. The people are very loud, always talking so loudly, always so excited, & very friendly people. When they hear my accent they all want to know where I'm from (& where's that?) & how much I love America. They tell me why their country's the best, why there's nowhere else like it.

Americans brag about freedom, as if America invented it, & ask me leading questions. I've told more than one person that my country barely has electricity, because it's what they believe & it's funny to let them keep thinking it. Many people think I took my job as an au pair to escape 'third world conditions' or Communism. I've given up correcting those people. A lot of Americans tell me my English is good, that I 'sound intelligent compared to other foreigners'. I tell them I sound even smarter in Dutch, French or German. One guy tried to convince me that I didn't speak any of those languages, that I was lying (even when I spoke to him in those languages a little) & that my country spoke an entirely different (made up) language & that I was wrong. I didn't bother correcting him, but he was hard to shake, kept asking for my number.

They wear flags on their clothing, & hang them around their houses, I've never seen so many flags. It's not like that at home. Also, the people are very opinionated. Most of them seem to be extremely religious, or at least, extremely curious about what you believe & where you go to church. We don't usually discuss things like that when we first meet people at home. It took some getting used to. It wasn't until I'd been in America a while before I realised how much secret kinkiness that conservative exterior hides.

I was hired by a successful & wealthy couple to look after their twin girls. The wife had taken some maternity leave, only two months. At first I was shocked but I learned this was actually an indicator of a privileged position in America. At home, if you're working, you automatically get paid maternity leave, a lot more than two months but in America many workplaces didn't offer it & it wasn't mandatory. You can bet I called the au pair agency after that to get another copy of my contract, not because I wanted maternity leave (I have a Mirena implant) but to check sick leave, holidays etc.

Juliet felt lucky to have had two months & grateful to the company she worked for as CFO. The husband, Liam, had also taken a few weeks off, but since the pandemic he was very busy rebuilding his own company & he said he "couldn't afford to take any holidays at the moment." He was a partner in a law firm, which had a great reputation but catered to a small exclusive clientele. Jules explained it was still "all hands on deck" until the company was back on strong footing & they reassured their clients.

So for the first 6 months I was very busy looking after the twins. Although they were lovely babies, very quiet & happy, it was extremely hard work. I'd work a full day & then be up a few times a night to soothe & feed them. Jules expressed milk for them which she left in the refrigerator. Sometimes she would get up too, but rarely, she worked hard & needed her sleep. Such a luxury to be able to hire someone to do this for you, yet, it also seemed sad, to miss out on so many milestones of your children's development & sometimes I think Jules felt the loss deeply. She was my favourite out of the two of them. Sometimes I'd sing 'Dodo, kindje do' to help the babies get back to sleep. The same lullaby my mother used to sing to me.

I'd been working for them for about 8 months before I spent any real time with Liam. I'd been warned by other au pairs that sometimes the fathers would hit on you. There's something appealing about a young woman in your house, nurturing your own babies under the eyes of your exhausted wife. It's the kind of industry where you naturally try to be easy going & uncomplicated, you're living in their house with them & you can't afford to let any drama get in the way of your work, so you stick a smile on your face & nod along to all kinds of nonsense. You seem to be parenting the parents, as well as their children.

Whenever the babies napped I'd try to accomplish some personal things & on this day I took a shower. I was shocked speechless when Liam came in. I hadn't heard the garage door open, had no idea when he'd come home, & there he was, coming into my en suite without even knocking & staring at me without even blushing. I hadn't locked it, since I'd thought it was just myself & the babies there. I didn't say anything. It was his direct stare, his silence, the way he leaned against the vanity & appraised me without apology that made my protest catch in my throat. There was something about him.

"The girls are napping" I said, as if to reassure him they were safe.

"I know, I checked already" he replied. The steam was covering some of me, but not enough. The full length glass partition let him have a very clear look as I soaped myself. I felt a rebellious rush & squeezing some foaming body wash on my hands made a show of running my hands up my legs, fingers lightly playing on my belly button, hips & cunt.

He'd undone his trousers (when had that happened?) & he pulled out the thickest dick I had ever seen in my life. It was about average length, maybe 5 in, but even semi-hard the girth was astonishing. It looked like a coke can as it stood up from a thick thatch of dark hair & he cupped his hand around it. It looked HEAVY. I was amazed, I couldn't stop staring, open-mouthed at the width & heft of the thing. How the hell did he walk around with it in his pants all day?

The tension in the air was thick with anticipation. Was he planning on getting in the shower with me, I wondered? We seemed to be sizing each other up. I was sudsing my tits at that point, rubbing slippery hands over my breasts. Both of my nipples are pierced, with delicate silver rings that increase their sensitivity & I played with them a little & was gratified to hear a groan coming from his mouth.

When I'd first interviewed with Jules & Liam I'd noted that they were both attractive people (even for a couple I figured were in their mid-30s-early-40s), but I'd never considered either one of them as a viable sexual option. I already had an American boyfriend, the same age as me. My bosses seemed so conservative, so vanilla that it had been almost laughable to imagine how the twins had been conceived. I'd even joked with Omar (the BF) that it must have been IVF, that they probably thought sex messed up their expensive bedding too much.

But now... I was spellbound by Liam's enormously thick cock. It was out of proportion compared to the rest of him, I couldn't stop staring, I knew that as soon as whatever this was, was over, I'd go to my side table & stick a vibrator up myself, I even knew which one, pale pink, with the little bunny ears at the front. I hoped I'd remembered to charge it fully. I was wet & I needed the release of an orgasm.

I wanted to wank myself for hours, I wanted to destroy myself with the sex toy while I thought about the enormous organ I was gaping at. I thought 'even if the babies start to fuss' I'm going to walk around with that thing inside me, even as they play on the blanket I'll grind my pussy, with the vibrator inside, against the floor. They were too young to notice anything. I'd put Peppa Pig or something on a screen so I could get myself off. I was so horny, I needed to release it. I thought I'd probably masturbate for hours to the memory of that unbelievable instrument.

I almost asked Liam if he'd like to get into the shower with me, if he'd like me to 'wash him'. But I chickened out. I wasn't sure he'd say yes, but I also wasn't sure I was quite ready to have sex with him (& that gigantic, throbbing appendage). My God, it really did seem to be throbbing visibly, I could almost see his pulse twitching along that long vein... he started jerking himself very quickly & roughly at that point. He seemed almost angry at it, furiously punishing himself. Even circumcised he stretched & pulled the skin back & forth, he rubbed the reddish, mushroom-topped head, lubricating the tip with a glob of milky precum that had formed like a pearl. His breath was jagged, he was still staring, hardly blinking, as I touched myself under the hot water.

I turned off the showerhead & leaned back against the wall with the Greek tiling. I dipped my fingers into myself, into the (now slimy with arousal) slit between my legs. I wanted to lie down, to give myself better access but for now, I'd have to satisfy myself with the standing attempt to appease the yearning inside me. Two-fingered I rubbed my clit, rubbed inside myself trying to reach the G-spot, it was a difficult angle, I was turned on, beyond being turned on, really, feeling animalistic, preverbal, insane. I could feel I was close to cumming but couldn't quite get there, couldn't quite reach the summit. I braced one foot up against the side of the shower. I wished I was lying on my back on the bed, moving my vibe in & out.

I heard Liam clear his throat, he was holding open one of the large fluffy bath towels. Sighing, I accepted the unspoken offer, stepping out & letting him wrap the towel around me. I tucked it in under my arm. I'm not exactly certain of all the possibilities that ran through my mind at that point. Mostly, I felt disappointed that he'd seemed to have decided it was over. But I also wondered (maybe even hoped) we'd end up on my bed, maybe I could touch that massive package, measure it, & figure out if sometime in the future I could be open to attempting sex with it.

It was standing proudly erect from his open pants, looking like an iron balustrade, it had pressed against me when he'd wrapped me in the towel. At the very least, feeling him rub it against my wet cunt was sure to be an incredible experience if he was game. I wondered how much of it I would fit in my mouth, or if I'd have to just lick it, it was like a gourd. I almost giggled as I wondered if he could fit a condom around it, or if it would cut the circulation off like a rubber band around a finger, making it purple, or if he had to get special ones sent to him.

I never got further in my musings than that because Liam, from behind me, put his hand over my mouth, the other one on my shoulder, & gently pressed me to the floor of the bathroom, to my knees. Then he pushed me forward so I was lying on the cold tiles, my cheek pressing against the ceramic, I had been so surprised I hadn't resisted at all. I felt him slide the bottom of the towel up around my midsection, so I was naked from the waist down & then kneeling between my legs he forced the humongous, engorged cock into me.

I screamed into his hand, muffled protests, as he ignored me, as he defiled me. There had been no question of consent, no pausing for protection, my boss's freakishly fat dick smashed into me bareback as if he'd kicked my door down. I could feel my skin burning from the friction of the damp floor as his violent thrusts vibrated me backwards & forwards, all the strength had gone out of me when his massive penis had entered me. Horrified, I thought I was about to urinate, I seemed to have lost all control over my body. In, out. In, out. It ached, how had he managed to even get it in there so quickly? He'd been determined, he'd forced it, his hard-on never wavering. I felt as if I was a cut of meat being tenderized, I felt as if not just the tensile skin, but the very bones of my pelvis were being stretched apart to accommodate the brutal size of his invasion.

However, I'd stopped screaming, a long time ago, it felt. His hands had loosened on my mouth & shoulder & were now holding me gently by the hips, he even lifted my ass a little, & I helped him, so I was positioned with my top half splayed onto the floor, while my bottom half was raised on my knees, legs still a little spread & he pounded me with that thick equipment. The slapping of his body against mine, the slurping, popping noises as his cock destroyed my cunt, were almost as loud as our combined exaltation. I was going to cum, I could feel it, couldn't fight it - didn't want to fight it. My body had responded even if I hadn't exactly consented. I wanted to push myself back into him, to feel my pussy try to engulf him in its juicing, soaking folds. But I was trembling all over, he was so massive, so, so, fucking gigantic. It was all I could do to keep myself from slipping back down to the ground.

The towel had come undone & he slid his hands around my waist, gripped my stomach to leverage me into him, drilled down into my cunt while he trapped my body against his. I was moaning, purring, grunting, almost sobbing in agonised pleasure. I was making sounds I'd never heard from myself before. I could feel my pussy twitching violently, as if in seizure, as if stimulated by an electric eel. I contracted & jerked, my orgasm began, rising, rising to a level that made my eyes bulge out of my head as he rhythmically jackhammered into my bruised & shocked body.

My body tried to unthinkingly escape the physical feelings. By then, my mind was out of control, & finally, it seemed my body had joined it in an exodus of sense. My body tried to curl & cringe away but Liam was ready, relentless. His arm around my waist was a metal bar, the other hand shot up & twisted my long dark hair in his fist, gripping it, pulling my head back, locking me in place while he made me cum. Wave after wave of ecstasy, of tortured climax, my legs shook violently, I gurgled. 'Please,' I choked out as I gasped mindlessly to the sky.

I lost count of the orgasms, I hadn't been able to count them, one blended so powerfully into the next that it was hard to tell where a new one began. All I could do was dangle bonelessly from that unmovable arm as I came against him, impaled by the thickest cock I had ever seen or felt, cumming all over him & feeling my juices sluicing out of me, dripping down our legs & onto the floor. I felt like a child in a hurricane, with absolutely zero control over my surroundings or what was happening to me. It seemed to go on forever, never stopping, I whimpered. Finally, he seemed to still, to pause a little, thrust entirely inside me, his hips pushing into the soft sides of my ass, he seemed to rest a little. He seemed to let me rest.

But almost like the aftershocks of an earthquake, I had gyrated against him as the panic subsided inside me. I had rolled my hips, my body, my exhausted vagina around in circles, luxuriating in the feeling of that hard, paint-can of a penis (I'm exaggerating, but only a bit), violently grinding every surface of the ridges & folds inside me. I was hooked. I wanted more. I cried out in protest when he started to pull himself out of me & he'd laughed bitterly. "You're all sluts," he intoned, "when it gets down to it, all young bitches are sluts."

The asshole lay on his back on the tiled floor, arrogantly. He was still wearing his suit, although he'd undone his shirt. His cock, like a fat tower, protruded from his opened, shoved down pants, it was creamy with the cum from my pussy. His hands braced behind his head. He indicated with a jerk of his chin that I should get on top & I did. I spread my legs, hovered myself above the tower & then slowly, gingerly lowered myself onto it.

He allowed me to, not forcing it in the way he had a moment before. He lay there, lazily, languidly, watching his dick, as I inched my aching wet pussy over the massive erection. I had to pull my lips apart with both hands to help it go in, I gasped a few times & paused, adjusting myself, thanking God I was so wet, so slippery, the lubrication was going to be a lifesaver. Finally, I made it, with a breathless cry, with eyes squeezed closed, I made it to the end & he was fully inside, balls deep. It was quite the achievement. I couldn't bring myself to lever myself up yet, not trusting my body to cope with bouncing on it. So I rolled my hips, not in circles this time, but backwards & forwards.

I rode him, his girth easily stimulating my G-spot, feeling his wet pubic hair & his pelvis skin scraping against the hood & my clitorus. I could feel his balls, each time I rocked back, I spread my cheeks, leaned back & held his scrotum to graze my asshole. I thought, I'm going to keep fucking this dick, & eventually, I'm going to get it in the tailpipe. I thought I'd be prepared for this next time, not be blindsided as I had today. As I rode him, the babies, his babies, started to wake up & fuss a couple of rooms away. I knew it was only a matter of time before they'd start crying for real. I couldn't seem to bring myself to pull my body off their father though, so I kept rocking on him, feeling a new orgasm stirring inside me.

As if reading my mind Liam spoke up "you're not done here, I haven't cum yet." & I smirked & kept grinding against him. The babies started crying in the other room & he growled. "Shit, shut-up." He grabbed me roughly by the hips & started to hammer me up & down on his dick as hard as he could (which was very, very hard). I started cumming almost immediately, the pain, the pleasure, the shock, the lingering orgasms from earlier all combined, & I was at a loss. Pump pump pump, he went, like a machine, in & out of me. I was screaming in pleasure as he creamed inside me, his own orgasm louder & more violent than I'd expected "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" he'd roared at the top of his lungs, "FUUUHHHHCK!" & I felt his release, felt a hot wave of his semen cresting into me, & I squirted, dirtily, voluminously onto his stomach, his hips, his balls, as my orgasm reached a thunderous crescendo with his.

"Bitch!" He spat, tipping me off him. He grabbed the towel & tried to wipe it off, although my juices had already made wet patches all over his suit jacket & trousers, even before the grand finale of the squirt. He'd need to change either way. "I was gonna shoot on your face," he grumbled, as if his choice to creampie me was my fault. I lay there, exposed on the hard bathroom tile without even a towel. I felt a flow of his cum leaking out of my ruined cunt. I would examine myself later, in a mirror, certain that I'd be able to see bruising at least. I'd be surprised that aside from a tender, red swelling, my body seemed to be healing from the encounter without issue.

He stood above me for a moment, looked at me as I lay there, trying to catch my breath, sweat sticking my hair to my face, limbs akimbo & disjointed, covered in my own fluids, & his. "Not a word about this to Jules, do you understand me?" I just gazed up at him. At this horrible, offensive, entitled man, with the lovely wife & children & the monster cock. I felt amused. I would definitely be on his thick cock again in no time. I didn't even bother answering him. He seemed to shake himself, a little embarrassed. "& don't lie there all day, I'm paying you to look after the twins," he snapped before he walked out.