Mellow Yellow Ch. 17

Vanessa isn't her real name. She has family in the Philippines and, if they knew the whole story, they'd throw her out in the street for sure. The best place to start to tell the story of Vanessa is at the beginning. Our family was growing, both in numbers and in age. Tanya was now five, Damien was a toddler of three and Lin had just arrived. We had already moved to a larger house as soon as we realized we would become a family of five. A growing family, affluent, a new house; wasn't everything great for Melinda and me? Not everything.

"Melinda, I've been falling behind with my contracts with just two children to look after during the day. The only way I've managed to survive is by working in the evenings when you get home. When you go back to nursing, I don't know how I'll be able to work and take care of Lin in addition to Tanya and Damien. Besides that, we never get to talk or do anything together except in bed."

"I don't mind looking after the children in the evening and the sex has been great but I agree that we need to do more for our relationship. Look, we're both working and doing well financially. I say that we can afford some help and make some time for each other."

"What were you thinking about? I notice that you're always a step ahead of me, my love."

"I called up the Phil-Can Agency and it really wouldn't be expensive to have a live-in nanny. The room and board would be nothing, if we gave her the spare bedroom in the basement so she can have some privacy for herself.

"And I suppose you've already picked one out."

"How did you know, Paul? Her name is Vanessa, she's 25 and she's a qualified nurse who can't get a job in her country. Paul, please say you want her too. A nurse can look after Damien's asthma and only a nurse can understand what another nurse wants."

"She sounds more than qualified and we can use the help. I'll have to do some work to get the spare bedroom ready. She can use the bathroom in the basement as well and that will give her the same privacy she could have with her own apartment."

Melinda hugged me. "You agree! I was so afraid you'd insist that we had to bring up the kids all by ourselves."

That was how I found myself at the airport Arrivals hall on a cold, snowy December day holding a parka and boots. As the travelers straggled towards the conveyor to pick up their luggage from the conveyor, Melinda spotted the brown, sad figure timidly descending the stairs. "That's her. That's Vanessa. The poor girl looks bewildered," Melinda shouted.

Yes, it was Vanessa. Quickly, we put the parka and the boots on our new nanny. Melinda took the light jacket and running shoes Vanessa brought from Manila and gave her a welcome hug. I got a baggage cart and found Vanessa's cheap cardboard suitcase that had somehow survived third world baggage handling techniques. Driving to our house, Melinda and I tried to make some small talk but Vanessa wouldn't or couldn't make any conversation beyond yes or no. She said so little I couldn't tell if she spoke English well or what kind of accent she had. Vanessa just sat there, looking at the snow and occasionally shuddering. Personally, I think my city looks beautiful under a fresh layer of snow. Obviously Vanessa didn't share my enthusiasm.

By the time we got home, the wind had increased, bringing miserable windchill. I mean, the temperature was already minus what Manila usually gets as plus temperatures. As she got out of the car to go to the house, I could forgive Vanessa if she thought she had landed on the face of Mars. Melinda took Vanessa down to her room while I paid the babysitter. I put up the temperature in the upstairs part of the house by one degree. Then I took one of Melinda's sweaters down to the basement.

Vanessa and Melinda were sitting on the edge of the bed. Vanessa was in tears and Melinda was hugging her trying to comfort her and maybe warm her up. Melinda said:

"I know exactly how you feel. I came to Canada from a tropical country in the winter and I thought, 'This country sucks.' I wanted to go back to Vietnam right away, even if it was overrun by Viet Cong. I froze at first but then I didn't die and neither will you. Besides, summer is very nice here."

I gave Melinda the sweater and left the two women alone. Melinda came up after 20 minutes and gave me the thumbs-up sign and said, "She'll stay." Vanessa came up for supper bundled in the sweater and wearing Melinda's fuzzy slippers. Her own clothes consisted of a tight pair of jeans and one of those "I 'heart' Baguio City" T-shirts. She brightened up a bit when she saw the Vietnamese feast Melinda was cooking.

Vanessa cheered up even more at supper when we introduced her to the children. Vanessa liked them and they seemed to take to Vanessa. Vanessa took up her duties first day by warming the baby formula and feeding Lin. As she warmed up to the children and warmed up physically, Vanessa unbuttoned her sweater. I could clearly make out the outline of firm tits with erect nipples offsetting the ventricles of the heart on her T-shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra under her T-shirt. When Vanessa got up, I noticed that that her breasts didn't jiggle much. Nice and firm. As much as I enjoyed the view, I made a note to tell Melinda that she should get Vanessa fitted with a brassiere. Another thing I noticed when Vanessa got up was the outline of her panties. They looked more like Queen Victoria than Victoria's Secret.

After her inauspicious arrival, Vanessa became part of the family. As her shyness melted and she became used to us, her face always bore a wide smile. She was a natural nanny, almost a surrogate mother when Melinda was at work. Vanessa would do anything with he children without consulting with us first as to how we would handle it. With Vanessa taking care of the children so expertly, my productivity shot up. I was able to get so many contracts completed that Vanessa literally paid for herself.

Vanessa quickly became Melinda's best friend. In fact, I wondered if they were becoming too close. I didn't mind when they taught each other their cooking. I think that Filipino food is underrated in this country. Melinda and Vanessa would argue good-naturedly over such weighty matters as whether the Filipinos stole the lumpia from the Vietnamese or vice versa. They grew so friendly that they traded clothes with each other. Sometimes Melinda would lend Vanessa her ao dai and she would wear Vanessa's sarong. I thought that was cute whenever we had a party at the house.

Despite the way Vanessa and Melinda were growing closer, she would always address me as Mr. Miskeivitch and Melinda as Mrs. Tran, as a sign of the employee/employer relationship. She never used our first names to our face. Melinda spent a lot of time of time in intimate women-only conversations with Vanessa. In fact, Vanessa rarely went out of the house, except with the children. It didn't think it was natural for a 25-year old woman not to go out and boogie once in a while. One day, I mentioned my concerns to Melinda:

"Don't you think that Vanessa should go out a little more? All she does is stay around the house. It's warm out now. She should enjoy our summer. Can you tell her to start taking her days off?"

"Paul, she likes it here. She enjoys the children and I just love her as well. You know that I don't have many friends in the Vietnamese community. It's great to have someone who knows what Southeast Asia is all about, even if she doesn't speak Vietnamese."

"Melinda, that's another thing. Don't you think that Vanessa and you are getting too close. After all, she has to return to the Philippines in eighteen months. You'll be very hurt when she leaves. It's not a good idea to be so friendly with an employee"

"Paul, you're just like the Vietnamese, the way they treat servants. They treat them like dirt and still expect them to do a good job. I vowed that I'd never treat anyone the same way my mother treated our cook. You know that I even treat our cleaning lady like a real person. Vanessa likes us, and I like her, both as an employee and as a person. Besides, she has so many hang-ups that I want to help her. I don't mind being hurt when she leaves if I know that I've helped Vanessa in some way. I may not be a good Vietnamese employer but I am a good nurse."

The first time I got some idea about the exact nature of Vanessa's hang-ups was a few weeks later. Vanessa took one of her rare nights off. I congratulated myself that Melinda and Vanessa had taken my advice. It was the time of the hockey playoffs, so I settled into my favourite armchair in the TV room to watch the late game from the West Coast. Melinda came into the room, dressed the way she did when I first met her, in black slacks and a white blouse.

"The kids are all in bed and asleep. Please make love to me on the couch, Paul. I need a good fucking and I want it to be just like when we were single. Remember all those times we would watch an erotic movie on the couch?"

Did I remember! It had been so long that we had had a chance to screw on the couch with kids running around the house. I turned off the hockey game and got ready to demonstrate my own stick handling abilities. Melinda and I dropped our clothes and started to make love like we hadn't for years. I guess that going back to our single days made me horny. I felt like I was seducing a shy Vietnamese girl all over again. I concentrated on demonstrating to Melinda's satisfaction that I still had the touch and the tongue.

When I got Melinda on the couch, I slowly worked down her body, kissing first her lips and then working over her small, firm breasts with both hand and tongue. I slowly slid my tongue over Melinda's flat stomach before reaching what she had for bush. As often as I did a muff dive, I always marveled at how little pubic hair Melinda had. She was like a preteen between her legs.

Melinda opened her legs and eagerly raised her pussy up for me. That wasn't the shy Vietnamese girl I used to know but Melinda had developed a taste for Canadian tongue. I put my head between her legs and parted her stiff pussy lips with my tongue. My hands cupped her bum cheeks, making sure that my tongue's target kept in position. I held Melinda in position and proceeded to slide my tongue up and down where it counted. I worked my tongue up and down the sides of Melinda's clitoris, remembering to gently massage her ass at the same time. I was driving Melinda crazy from the sounds she was making.

Melinda came with such force that I couldn't hold her from all her writhing. She dropped to the couch and I followed to make sure that I teased her clitoris right to the finish. I ended up with my ass in the air, my nose in the hair and a happy wife. Melinda pulled me towards her and grabbed hold of my dick.

"Paul: It's so big and hard tonight. You'll really stir me up inside tonight."

Melinda had me right where she wanted me and I didn't waste my time describing to Melinda how wet she was. The way I just slipped in without any effort told the story. Although she was well-lubricated, Melinda was tight and her internal muscles were quivering. Melinda was gasping in her high-pitched voice she used when I was giving her exactly what she wanted.

"Oh Paul, You're splitting me apart tonight. I'm dying and going to heaven."

I could feel Melinda's insides vibrating as I drove my dick in ever deeper. I took my time with the fuck, still driving my dick relentlessly deeper and deeper. I buried my dick until our pelvic bones hit. Melinda brought her legs around my ass and squeezed as if I could go deeper yet. We stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, just enjoying the feel of each other. Then Melinda released me from the grasp of her legs.

"Give it to me now. Pound my yellow pussy, white boy. I'm going to give you one good ride now."

I was about to draw my dick back when Melinda started to bounce up and down on the couch. Melinda threw her arms around me and wiggled her ass up, down, sideways, the way Mrs. Nguyen, the Saigon hooker did me. Melinda was far better than an old hooker, because she loved me. She was driving me crazy now. Finally, we came together groaning and gasping for breath. We both put a lot of work into that fuck.

We got dressed and I went to make some tea while Melinda cleaned up a bit. I noticed that the basement lights were on. Melinda came into the kitchen so I asked:

"Did you leave the basement lights on or has Vanessa come home? I hope she came in by the back door."

Melinda went down the stairs a bit and came back up. "Vanessa's back. I can hear the bathtub running. She never uses the back door when she goes out. The bus stop is closer to the front. Paul, do you think she saw us?"

"I don't know when she came in. You were so good that I was just wrapped up in giving you my best."

"Well, as a woman, I don't mind if she sees what I've got. As for you, from the front door, all she could see of you would be your curly head between my legs or your hairy white ass bobbing up and down between my yellow thighs."

"But, shouldn't you go and talk to her and apologize?"

"You still don't understand Asian women, do you? If she did see us screwing on the couch, it would only embarrass her that she caught us in flagrante delicto. If she came in the back, she heard my orgasm. I mean, you made me come so many times and so loud that she had to hear something. So, If I talk to her and she only heard, that will be like accusing her of being a voyeur. Either way, she would lose face and we might lose a good nanny. Just forget about it as if it never happened."

After that evening, I sensed someone listening outside our bedroom door at night. I assumed it was Vanessa but I could never catch her at it because, by the time I opened the door, she had disappeared down the stairs. Filipinas are generally light and graceful on their feet and our house is carpeted. I didn't stand a chance of catching her running away. Yet, I always had this feeling that someone was out there, listening to me screwing Melinda. Then it occurred to me. Something else was different lately. Tanya wasn't visiting our bedroom at night any more. So, I decided to ask Tanya:

"Is anything wrong, Tanya? You never come to see Mommy and Daddy any more to get a drink of water. Aren't there any monsters under your bed these days?"

"Nothing's wrong Daddy. Whenever I get up at night, Vanessa's always standing in the hallway. She says she's keeping the Boogie Man from getting into our rooms. I like Vanessa. She keeps us safe."

With this confirmation from my daughter that Vanessa was snooping, I decided to do a little snooping of my own. I went out and bought one of those monitoring programs that record all the keystrokes during a computer session. Normally you get the program to keep an eye on a spouse who's spending too much time in the chat rooms. In my case, I wanted to spy on the nanny. After all, if she was a pervert, did I want her around my children?

I didn't have too long to wait after I installed my snooper. That very evening, Vanessa asked if she could use the computer to send some e-mail and surf the Net. Of course, that's the plan, dear girl. I could hardly wait to see what was going through Vanessa's mind. As soon as Vanessa was finished, I restarted the computer and opened up the file with Vanessa's session. Her session started with writing some e-mail and then sending it off to her family. Not knowing any Tagalog, I skipped down to where she started surfing the Net. After reading the Manila Newspapers, apparently Vanessa chatted with someone on Literotica. Of course, my computer only saved Vanessa's side of the chat:

I'm flattered Longshlong J but I'm not into cybersex. I'm sure you can find some white girl to cyber with.

[mouse click]

What am I into? I've just started something but I don't know where it's going. I work for a wonderful couple. I saw them fucking one night and I'm really hooked on watching them have sex. They make love so beautifully that I'm completely obsessed with their sex lives.

[mouse click]

They're in their 30s with 3 kids. He's half Polish and half French. She's half Vietnamese and half Chinese. She's absolutely gorgeous – she looks like a movie star. He's a real stud. I never thought of having sex with a white guy, but he could change my mind.

[mouse click]

No, I don't know if it's bigger than yours.

[mouse click]

Of course she's tight. All we oriental women have tight pussies.

Then Longshlong must have said something that really pissed off Vanessa. She flamed Longshlong in words that I didn't believe until now that a shy, smiling Filipina knew. Then Vanessa visited a couple of porn sites. I made sure there was no kiddy porn. OK, she might be a little kinky but she wasn't a pedophile. Apparently, she got tired of chatting, quit the Net and started to explore games on the computer. Dammit, then she hacked into the secure file where I kept all my erotica. Vanessa was looking at my stories of how I met Melinda and all of our sexual adventures. I couldn't tell what story she looked at but I could tell that she printed it out. The printer was still warm.

I leaned back in my chair and I wondered whether I should tell Melinda about the nanny. No, Melinda wouldn't like it that I had put a snoop program on my computer. Sometimes she liked to have a woman-to-woman with her friend in Hong Kong, Susan Wu. Those e-mails were strictly No Men Allowed. Besides, was Vanessa really doing anyone any harm with her kinkiness? I felt excited that another woman besides Melinda appreciated my lovemaking. It was almost like having a woman on the side. Besides, she was keeping our family safe from the Boogie Man. Could you fault a nanny for that? No, I wouldn't tell Melinda about any of this.

While leaning back, I noticed that the back of my chair was loose. I closed the snooper and turned off the computer. My workshop was in the basement and that's where I kept all my tools. Since I had an excuse to go downstairs, I decided to do some snooping of my own. I tiptoed to Vanessa's door and listened. I could hear pages being turned. Either she read slowly or it was one of my longer stories that she printed. There was a pause in the pages turning. I could hear Vanessa taking off some clothes and then she began to breathe faster. The bed started to rhythmically squeak. Yes, this was the sound of Vanessa beating brown meat.

OK, so I'm a little kinky as well. I started to imagine that it was my fingers doing Vanessa. I could feel a woodie, I unzipped and started to pull my wire. I imagined myself slipping my dick into that brown pussy. Yes, it was me that was making Vanessa come. I shot off, making sure I caught it. That would be embarrassing if Vanessa came out and asked me what it was that I was cleaning. We would both have to admit what we had been doing. Talk about loss of face.

I hurried to the workshop and got rid of the evidence with paper towels. On my way upstairs with my screwdriver, Vanessa came out of her room. Her shirt was out of her jeans and her hair displayed some bed head. We gave each other an embarrassed grin and I went upstairs. As I was fixing my chair, I wondered, why should I be embarrassed? It was Vanessa who started spying on us first. I resolved to help Vanessa with her hang-up in my own way. If she wanted to watch, I would try and oblige her.

I started to tease Vanessa by becoming a little more talkative during sex. I would compliment Melinda on how wet she was and I gave a few more loud "Baby you're tight." My chance to add picture to the audio came one hot August night. When we went to bed, I asked Melinda

"Can we leave the door open tonight. It's so hot in here that we need to get some air circulation.. I should open the drapes as well. Probably we should sleep naked as well."