Ch. 26: The Nanny from Hell gets a Good Licking
Mrs. Nguyen put on her worn-out nightgown and disappeared downstairs to her guestroom. Her nightie was so thin that I could make out the crack of her ass shifting from side to side as she wiggled off down the hall. There I was, left with a messy desk, a sticky dick and a pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen. I tidied up my office and got rid of all the paper littered with shot spots from my desk. As I was on my way to tackle the kitchen, Mrs. Nguyen popped back up from the basement, dressed in a short leather skirt and low-cut blouse. You can take a hooker out of Saigon but sheâs still a hooker.
âI go see friend with
bi-da
parlour. She have money me. Then I no bother you and Chinese lady you. One this thing I say. Ăng Paul give Vietnamese lady me good fuck. You best banana in Canada or Vietnam.â
With that, Mrs. Nguyen produced a wet kiss that smeared her garish red lipstick on my cheek. Then she let herself out. I think she said something in her fractured English that approximated âciao, babyâ as she closed the door.
With Mrs. Nguyen out of the way, I surveyed the kitchen. Fortunata, our new nanny, ordered me to wash the breakfast dishes before she got back with the kids. Well, Melinda hired this ugly bitch, not me. Maybe beauty is only skin deep but Fortunata was ugly through and through. OK, badmouthing the new nanny doesnât get the dishes done. Mrs. Nguyenâs breakfast just added to the huge pile. I was torn between my duty to take care of the mess in the kitchen and my duty to hide evidence that Iâd just fooled around with Mrs. Nguyen.
The sound of water running downstairs resolved my dilemma. I couldnât rinse dishes while Vanessa, our other houseguest, was having a bath, could I? Besides, dirty dishes arenât âevidenceâ of anything much in particular. Lipstick and a sticky dipstick certainly is evidence leading to divorce. I decided that that the dishes could wait but a nice shower was a priority. Iâd rather face Fortunataâs wrath than Melinda packing up and leaving with the kids in tow.
I got out of the shower and fumbled for a towel to dry myself. As the steam in the bathroom cleared and the soap in my eyes stopped stinging, I became aware that there was a Filipina squatting on the toilet lid. My other houseguest, Vanessa Reyes a.k.a. the Nanny from Hell, was awake. Vanessa was clad in just an XL T-shirt and she had it pulled up over her knees, hiding her boobs in the space between her knees. By confronting me in the shower, did Vanessa have something else on her mind than brunch? Unfortunately, she did.
âWell, well. If it isnât my old employer caught naked with just his old nanny in the house. Now isnât this a compromising situation? Pay careful attention, Paul, because Vanessaâs in control now. You just stand where you are and listen to me or else Iâll claim rape. Iâll tell everyone you tried to pick up where you left off three years ago when you were screwing me behind Melindaâs back. I trust you understand the scandal that would result in.â
Vanessa had me where she wanted me, no doubt about that. I could already see the tone of the headlines in those newspapers at the supermarket checkout: âMiddle-aged White Canadian Male Forces Himself on Young Single Mother from Philippines. Again!â Vanessa half-smiled at gaining the upper hand and continued her monologue.
âIâm not the same submissive little Vanessa you thought I was when I was your nanny. No more shy, simpering little Filipina appearing to live only to please her exploitive masters. Your countryâs Nanny Program makes us nannies nothing more than indentured labourers and sexual playthings for you Canadian white men. But I got even with you. While you were away on business and probably taking advantage of some other poor Filipina, I was getting it on with Melinda. Yes, you fucked me behind your wifeâs back but I fucked your wife behind your back. Your Melinda is AC/DC, Iâm a dyke and youâre just a despicable adulterous nannyfucking male.â
I had always suspected that something went on between Melinda and Vanessa. Now it was coming out of Vanessaâs mouth in the way she knew it would hurt me the most. Vanessa had taken advantage of Melinda and had a lesbian encounter with her. I donât think I was as shocked as I might have been. I must have admired Melindaâs good taste in lovers. They definitely made dykes differently in the Philippines. Your average white lesbian looks like a truck driver in drag. Vanessa was a feminine and graceful Filipina. She still retained that tight, delicious brown body that I poked for a full six months when Melinda was pregnant. I could even call her beautiful, if only she would lighten up and smile a bit.
Yet, Vanessa had changed more than her âlifestyleâ in two years. Something had changed that I found slightly menacing. I wasnât uncomfortable with Vanessaâs ball-busting attitude. She reminded me of a kinder and gentler Fortunata. No, there was something that had changed about her soft Malay features and it made her look hard. It went beyond the scowl that marred Vanessaâs sensuous lips. Then, it dawned on me that Vanessa had stopped plucking her eyebrows. Her eyebrows had grown back and now were knitted in a simian line, like a
yakuza
in a crummy Japanese gangster flick. No, it was more like the ape with a zipper in King Kong Meets Godzilla. I was positive now that I was right about this vindictive woman. Vanessa was the Nanny from Hell. There was nothing I could do but stand there and take it.
âNow Iâm a Canadian landed immigrant and I want some respect. Itâs not going to be anymore âIâll change the little bastardâs diaper right away, Mr. Miskeivitchâ or âYes, you can fuck me. Itâs part of my job description, Mr. Miskeivitch.â I have rights now in this country. You wonât take advantage of me anymore. You wonât exploit me. Do you understand that?â
Vanessa must have spent too much time in Mindinao with the MPLA, absorbing all this exploitation rhetoric. This one-sided conversation was taking quite a nasty turn in my mind. I tried to think of some way to put a better spin on Vanessaâs Canadian employment record, but she was right. âLesbian/dyke and knocked up by previous employerâ wouldnât look good on any former nannyâs resumĂ©. Vanessa continued her monologue.
âYou may have made me pregnant and sent me back to the Philippines, thinking that you were well rid of me. But youâre not. Iâm in your house again. Iâm going to even up the score by fucking your wife and you wonât be able to stop me. Now, dry yourself off. You look silly, dripping wet like that.â
I started drying off my private parts, only to discover that I was stiff and hard. Vanessaâs self-satisfied smirk betrayed a pride in her own beauty. Vanessa knew she still had it what it takes to turn on either man or woman equally. She wouldnât have any trouble at all seducing Melinda again.
She reached for my dick and drew me towards her. She started to caress my dick and then ran her nostrils up and down the shaft of my dick, the same way she did when she was my nanny and I was her nannyfucking boss. Vanessa savoured my dick the way I imagine that Fidel Castro savours a fine Havana cigar prior to putting it to his lips. No, that wasnât quite the way she sniffed my dick. Vanessa admired the smell of my dick the way a wine snob runs the cork under his nose before downing the plonk. As with any obsessive-compulsive personality, Vanessa had to provide a running commentary on what she was doing with my dick.
âYour silly male ego thought I was admiring your manliness when I did this, but I hated you fucking me. You didnât know that I was really admiring the smell of Melindaâs pussy on your dick. You thought I really desired you but the reality is that I desired the sweet smell and taste of Vietnamese cunt on your dick. After you fucked me, then I tasted myself on you. I knew right away that I wanted to serve up my tasty little pussy to Melinda. MMMMMMM! I can smell Melindaâs pussy here but itâs very faint. Have you been neglecting your wife? Shame on you, Paul. No, thatâs not the problem. Melindaâs pussyâs obscured by another womanâs mark on your dick. Hmmmm. What is it that I smell? Iâm quite intrigued by this other odour. Itâs strong, almost pungent, yet itâs distinctly Vietnamese pussy. This dick has been exploring another Vietnamese woman. Paul, you bastard! You fucked that old Vietnamese lady as soon as my darling Melinda left for work.â
The way Vanessa was reading all the secrets on my sexual rap sheet was really annoying. I felt like a kid caught with his fingers in the cookie jar. Apparently, there was no way to make Vanessa shut up. She stood up, pulling my beard towards her face. She buried her flat nose in the curly, damp hairs of my beard.
âThat old womanâs pussy is on your beard but I canât smell Melindaâs mark anywhere. You ate the old ladyâs pussy but not your wifeâs? Not that I blame the old lady for wanting you to eat her pussy. You eat pussy like a woman Paul. For a guy, youâre really quite good at it; Iâll give you credit for that. I suppose that, if the old lady wanted good dick and tongue in one package, you canât blame her for choosing you. Now, donât you worry a bit. I can see youâre nervous but I wonât let out this little secret as long as you behave yourself. But tell me this; why would you prefer an old womanâs pussy to my young, tasty Melinda?â