Harriet's Bum Ch. 01

The family that Harriet had been nannying for, the Smiths, had invited her over for a Christmas party. It wasn't high on her list of things to do on a Friday in December, but Dundas was a bit of a drag, and there were only so many nights she wanted to spend at her parent's house. She accepted, planning only on staying a couple of hours - arrive fashionably late, make small-talk, meet some new potential clients (rich young couples were in desperate need of childcare, it seemed, and good help was hard to find).

She threw on a black pencil skirt and a loose sweater; she didn't want to look too threatening to the wives; she had to hide her pert ass and tits to keep people from getting distracted. Still, she didn't want to go completely unnoticed. She left her bra at home. Maybe she did want to be a little threatening. But comfortable.

It wasn't far to her client's home but it wasn't close and it was a cold December night, and transit in the greater Hamilton area was unreliable at best and unsafe at worst, so she drove. The weather forecast threatened snow, but they always threatened snow at this time of year. She parked just down the street from the house, out of sight enough to take a drag from her vape pen. She tossed her hair and looked at herself in her phone's camera. Effortless was the energy. She took another drag and walked up to the house and knocked. A few errant flakes of snow drifted from the sky.

The host, Mr. Smith (or Andrew as he insisted she call him) greeted her warmly - big smile, a bigger "Come on in!" - drink in one hand, he put his hand on the small of her back to usher her in. She was quickly introduced to a couple that was there - who she learned very quickly had a young child at home and the wife was interested in going back to work sooner than later.Andrew's hand, though, lingered on her back, perhaps a little longer than was appropriate. Harriet laughed at something funny she thought she heard and tried to disengage.

"Is there some place to put my coat?" She asked, hoping for an excuse to mingle and check out the snacks.

"I'll put it in the spare room," Andrew offered. He finally removed his hand and helped her out of her coat. He quickly disappeared upstairs. Harriet excused herself from the other couple and made her way into the house.

Furniture had been rearranged since she'd been here last - making the living room more open, sort of a funnel towards the large kitchen where it seemed the focus of the party was. Harriet smiled and greeted strangers. Andrew's wife, Bronwyn, waved to her.

"Harriet! I'm so glad you made it! You've been so important to us these past few months, you have no idea! In good news - the kids are in bed! You're off-duty tonight, so enjoy!"

She motioned to the kitchen island - it was a full spread of charcuterie, cheese, crackers, meats, other snackables, also a veggie and fruit tray. There were a number of bottles of wine open, and a cooler full of beer. Harriet helped herself to the veggie and fruit tray; the alcohol was tempting but driving home and going to bed early had a stronger draw. She'd only been here a few minutes but already she was feeling socialed-out. All these grinning couples - although great prospects, were just energy vampires. She'd met only a handful of them but already they all seemed the same; inherited wealth, working in tech or for their parents, a collection of buzzwords and catchphrases, talking in hashtags. It was exhausting just being here. And Andrew kept on inserting himself. She'd caught him looking at her on more than one occasion, and as soon as he'd spy her he'd sidle over. And always putting his hand on her; a shoulder, an elbow, whatever seemed innocuous. Harriet tried to ignore it. Now to be fair, she liked Andrew. He was attractive, in his late 30s she wasn't too sure exactly how old, maybe prematurely gray, or maybe he just really was cultivating this sort of sexy-dad energy, she wasn't sure. He was in incredible shape. Harriet figured he didn't really work per se but just owned a business that ran itself so he was free to do whatever with his time. He talked a lot - like a lot a lot - about supplements and other stuff Harriet really didn't give a shit about. Maybe he had a TikTok. Bronwyn had a TikTok - she was on it constantly doing reels and videos showcasing her perfect influencer life. Right now she was under the influence, it seemed. Andrew, when he wasn't lingering around Harriet, was keeping his wife's wine glass full, and it was showing.

Harriet at one point tried to make herself scarce but was pulled back into a conversation, "Oh you simply have to meet Christie and Kevin! They have a 2-year-old and are expecting their second in March. Christie will be so swamped and she plans on going back to work after four months!" Harriet munched on grapes and half-listened to influencer talk. The party was starting to thin out - the perils of having your own children is you have to return to them. And babysitters these days aren't cheap. Harriet checked her phone - it was later, much later, than she'd guessed. And there was a weather alert. Snow. Snow?! Harriet looked out a window. She hadn't even noticed but for the last three hours. There must be two feet of it already.

Shit.

She ducked into a bathroom for a moment. Goddamnit, she cursed, she should have left ages ago. She flashed a tit and took a quick selfie. She sent it to a certain someone. It was to help break the bad news.

I might be stuck here tonight. The weather is shit.

She came back out and noticed that the party had basically ended in the five minutes she was in there; Bronwyn was waving the last few couples out the door, spilling wine and telling everyone how much she loved them and to get home safely.

All of the sudden, Bronwyn espied Harriet.

"Harriet!" The hostess practically tripped over herself, "Harriet! You can't leave! It's a blizzard out there! The snowplow just went by and buried all the cars on this street, the asshole!" She polished off her glass. "I gotta go to bed. You should, too. Here, I mean. Use the guest room. We'll call you a cab in the morning." She stumbled up the stairs. Harriet caught Andrew's gaze. He looked... hungry.

"Ok, let me just text my... mom." Harriet said, ducking into the bathroom again.

My car was plowed in. I'm stuck here tonight.

Ah, shitty.

Yeah. And the dad, Andrew, has been eye-banging me all night.

Oh, yeah?

I think he wants to fuck me. Every time I'd see him he was staring at me.

Are you gonna fuck him?

Harriet paused. Sure she'd noticed him, let her eyes linger a little. And, she admitted, she didn't stop him from touching her, or move away. She felt flushed. Fuck. She looked at herself in the mirror. She was blushing thinking about it.

Her phone buzzed again.

Do you want to fuck him?

Harriet bit her lip and looked at herself in the mirror. Fuck, she looked hot.

Yes.

What do you want him to do to you?

I don't know.

I want you to suck his cock.

Fuck.

Harriet could already feel his fat cock sliding down her throat.

I want him to cum in you.

Harriet felt wet. She could feel her heart pounding in anticipation, a steady, heavy, thumping.

I want proof. I want to see the cum dripping out of your pussy.

Harriet put her phone away. If she waited any longer she might lose her nerve; she left the bathroom. Andrew was nowhere to be seen. Did he go to bed? Harriet did a quick run to the kitchen; the food was still out, half drunk glasses of wine and beer were all over the place. No one was around.

Harriet turned off the lights as she made her way to the stairs. She could hear Bronwyn stumble into bed, followed immediately by heavy snoring. Poor woman was going to feel like shit tomorrow. Harriet listened for a moment but didn't hear anything. She knew where the guest room was; she opened the door slowly and saw her coat alone on the bedspread. There was a lamp which cast strange shadows around the room. No Andrew. Harriet let out a slow, cool breathe. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed.

She stepped into the room to move the coat when she heard the door click shut behind her.

Harriet didn't turn around; a moment later she could feel Andrew standing behind her. He put an around around her waist and pulled her towards him. His erect cock pressed into the small of her back. His other hand went around under her arm and across her chest; his hand came to rest on her breast. He squeezed.

"Mmm, fuck, Harriet, I've been watching that ass of yours all night. It was all I could do to keep my hands off of you..."

"Just all night?"

"Since Bronwyn hired you." His hand went under her sweater. He found her nipple and ran it between his fingers, then pinched it. Hard.

Harriet cooed. "I've been watching you since your wife hired me," she pressed her ass against him. She felt his cock twitch and swell with excitement.

"Oh yeah? Did you want me to do this?" His other hand went down the front of her skirt and under her panties. His fingers slipped down over her soft public mound and teased her wet pussy. "Oh fuck you're dripping..." He kissed her neck, her ear, as he played with her pussy. Harriet closed her eyes, just enjoying feeling his hands on her. She let out a little gasp when he found her clit, running his middle finger over it gently.

Harriet moaned softly then said, "Did you want me to do... this?" She pulled free of his grasp. He was just in his underwear and a black undershirt. In the dim light she took in the outline of his muscles, the bulge in his shorts. The spot of pre-cum that had leaked through already. She guided him to the bed; he sat. Harriet pulled his shorts down and marveled at his cock. It was uncircumcised, and big. Maybe the biggest cock she'd ever seen. She smiled, then kissed the shaft, gripping it with one hand and stroking it slowly.

"I've wanted to suck your big cock since the moment I saw you." She ran her tongue up and down his cock, tasting, teasing, kissing the head and taking the tip in her mouth. Andrew put his hand in her hair, pulling it gently, then harder.

"Fuck, baby, suck my fucking cock," he moaned.

Harriet obeyed. She kissed the head, then opened her mouth to take it in her mouth. She rolled her tongue around the head, then went down, deep. She took the length of him in her mouth; she could feel it hit the back of her throat. She could barely breathe. Fuck she loved it.

Andrew gripped her head with both hands now; Harriet let him fuck her mouth, use her like a fucking sex toy. She gagged a little as his thrusts became a little more frantic. Then suddenly, he stopped and lay back on the bed.

"Fuck, I don't want to cum yet." He pulled her up on the bed. Fuck, he was strong! "Lose your clothes. On your knees, you fucking slut."

Harriet stripped out of her skirt and panties. She pulled her sweater over her head. Her nipples were pink and erect. She felt Andrew's eyes linger on the patch of public hair on her pussy. He smiled. She got on her knees, then put her face down. Her ass was up in the air, facing the door. If Bronwyn opened it right now there'd be no hiding it.

Andrew ran his hands over it, squeezing it, then giving it a big, loud slap. Harriet jumped; she strained her ears to see if anyone else in the house had heard it, but everything was quiet. Except the thumping in her chest.

He kissed on cheek, then the other. He slid one finger down her asscrack; it lingered for a moment on her asshole, but went to her cunt. He pushed one finger in at first, fucking her slowly, then another. Harriet bit her lip to keep from moaning out loud.

He kissed her ass again, and again, moving closer and closer to her asshole. It was no surprise when she felt his tongue, tentative at first, lick the rim.

"Fuck," Harriet gasped. Then, "Oh fuck!" As his tongue plunged inside her tight hole. Andrew finger-fucked her with wild abandon; he seemed to lose himself in the moment. Harriet's pussy was dripping wet now - and her asshole was eager, fucking desperate for a cock inside it.

Harriet couldn't stand it any longer; she felt a warmth deep inside her and she let out a loud, louder than she expected, and louder than she had wanted, moan. Her body shook as her orgasm spread throughout her body.

"Mmm yeah you fucking love getting you ass eaten you fucking slut," Andrew laughed. He slapped her ass again, harder this time. "I bet you want my big thick dick in you, don't you, you little whore?"

Harriet moaned and nodded. "Yes, please."

"Not yet." Andrew lay on his back and spread his legs, "Suck my fucking nuts."

Harriet did as she was told. She stroked his cock and took his testicles in her mouth, sucking on each in turn, gently, savoring them, feeling the sack tighten, the texture.

"Mmm fuck, eat my ass, baby."

Harriet's tongue tickled his taint, then went down to his ass. He raised his hips so she could get in there. His cock was rock hard in her hand as she licked his ass.

"Get in there deeper," He grabbed her head again and held it tight against him; Harriet's nose was squished into his balls, her tongue danced and darted in and out of his ass. She was worried he was going to cum before he had a chance to cum in her. She didn't want to disappoint anyone...

Then, it was as though something snapped in his brain. Andrew scrambled around to his knees and tossed Harriet on her back. He spread her legs and pushed his cock against her wet asshole. Harriet's legs were resting on his shoulders as he pushed his cockhead against her; her ass slowly relented, then enveloped his thick shaft.

Harriet let out a yell which was quickly silenced by his hand over her mouth. He thrust hard and deep, his cock pushing in its full length, disappearing in her tight little willing asshole. He moved his hand from her mouth to her throat. He put his weight on her. Harriet loved how fucking full her ass felt with him inside her.

"Fuck me, Andrew, fuck me like a fucking whore!"

Andrew didn't need any more encouragement; he slapped her, then kissed her, long and hard, never losing his rhythm.

"I'm going to fucking cum," he grunted, "Fuck, I'm going to cum!"

Harriet wrapped her legs around him and pulled him in deep. "Mmm fucking fill me up! Fill my tight ass up, baby!"

Andrew's cock swelled inside her; she squeezed his shaft as hard as she could with her ass. She felt it surge, then erupt, inside her. His hand closed over her throat like a vice; Harriet's vision swam as blood cut off from her brain. It felt euphoric. Andrew kept pumping his cock into her, his orgasm rocking his body until he finally collapsed on her, breathing heavily.

Harriet wasn't sure how long they lay like that; she felt like she might have dozed off for a few minutes. When she came-to, Andrew was gone. Her ass ached. She could feel his jizz inside her.

She checked her phone. There were a lot of missed texts.

Are you going to fuck him?

Shit, I love thinking about what he's doing to you.

I'm jerking off right now. I'm so jealous that you're sucking his cock. I'm so fucking hot for you.

Harriet I'm going to cum. I can't wait to see pics.

I hope he fucked you good. Fuck, I love what a cumslut you are for me. Tell me everything.

There were a few pictures, too. A thick, hard cock. His cock oozing cum. His hand covered in cum.

Fuck I'm going to cum again.

Harriet turned on the flash on her camera. She lay on her back and spread her legs. She could see her pussy, wet, dripping still, and her asshole. Cum oozed from it. She rubbed it with her finger and brought it to her mouth. Fuck, she wished she could have swallowed his cum, too. She sent some pictures in reply.

Bed time now. I will tell you everything tomorrow. You will be proud of me. Enjoy these in the meantime. Cum for me.

Harriet turned off the light and went to bed. She secretly hoped Andrew would wake up early. Or that it would snow all night so she'd have to spend another night here.