Not Your Average Celebrity Nanny Ch. 03byEverydayMermaid©
Anne, a famous day time talk show host and wife of prime time, ultra famous television actor, Ryan, had just left with their four kids to attend a wedding for a week. After stealing a dirty secret with Rachel, the family nanny, that she had harbored for years, she was gone. Even when Anne was eating Rachel's delicate, shaved pussy, she never revealed to her that several months ago, she'd lured Ryan to her guest house in the back yard, where they'd fucked on her bed in the middle of the night.
Now with Anne and the kids out of the house, Ryan and Rachel spent almost no time finding themselves in bed together. Even after the first time he fucked her, they both realized Ryan had writing he needed to do for an entertainment magazine and Rachel had promised Anne that she'd make sure to keep Ryan fed and taken care of.
The night Anne left, once Ryan had finished writing his article for the night, he found Rachel in the kitchen. Dinner of perfectly cooked mushroom marsala was waiting for him, along with Rachel at the table, dressed only in a bra and panties and a single candle was lit at the center of the table.
She rushed him to the dining room, and even as she took him by the shoulders, the furthest thing from Ryan's mind was the food. Having spent himself on her only hours earlier, then his mind on a celebrity article he was writing, this beautiful vixen wasn't done teasing him.
Rachel sat him down where his plate was arranged pretty enough to be photographed. She poured two glasses of wine and with her own glass, she sat down to her own plate.
"Rachel, you really don't have to go through all this. Anne and the kids aren't going to be here for a week. You're practically on vacation. You could have ordered me a pizza and left me a note." Still, the sauce on each mushroom tasted absolutely perfect, and he found himself eating as he spoke. "You really can take a break from all of what you do."
"Shut up and eat." Rachel's tone more of exasperation than demanding. Since she moved into their household, she was injected to all parts of their lives, and it was always important that Rachel be trusted. Not once, was she ever put under question. She ran the household like a well oiled machine and never took shit from Anne or Ryan. She kept them level for the sake of the kids. She made sure the children felt safe when the press would do anything to get their lenses on them. Now, though, she had nowhere else to be. She was always grateful for having a yearly salary, and her room and board in their house or their guest house. Taking care of Ryan for a week, she was sure, would be a pure pleasure.
"I'm eating! Stop yelling at me!" Ryan chuckled into his glass of wine, then leaned to refill both glasses. "So, I have to ask, do you always cook dinner in your underwear, because Blake's going to be a teenager soon and... I don't know how I feel about this." Blake was their oldest son.
Rachel giggled, the wine already working its way into her brain. She had a tiny frame and it never took much alcohol to get her tipsy. "No. I just didn't bother getting completely dressed after we left the bedroom."
When dinner was completed, Rachel insisted that Ryan help her clear the table. "I make the kids do it, so now you get to. Quit being an asshole!"
Ryan whined something about how shouldn't have to be doing dishes anymore, but quickly stopped himself, and quickly stacked up the plates and brought them into the kitchen where Rachel was loading the dishwasher. "If it wasn't for you, my life would be that of complete selfishness."
"No, if it wasn't for your wife and kids, you'd be totally selfish. If it wasn't for me, you'd just be an asshole." Rachel smiled as she started the dishwasher and wiped her hands on a kitchen towel.
Ryan turned her around and kissed her deeply. "Then I guess I need all of you to keep me being this selfless, kind person that I am," he quipped with just the right amount of sarcasm.
At this, Ryan had pressed himself against Rachel's body, now pinned against the kitchen counter. Rachel could feel him already hardening, so to relieve this, she quickly unzipped his jeans and gave them a good tug downwards. Ryan unhooked Rachel's bra and hoisted her up onto the countertop. Rachel wriggled out of her panties while Ryan finished stepping out of his jeans and boxers.
When he moved toward her again, Rachel spread her legs and guided him into her already wet pussy, and as they began to move together, she peeled the t-shirt off over Ryan's head. Now they were both naked, and Ryan was pistoning in and out of Rachel as she rode his movements by reaching up for the shelves above her head, rocking her hips forward and down on his cock.
After several minutes, they were both covered in sweat and Ryan pulled himself out of her. He picked her up in his arms, seeing already that she was physically exhausted and took her to the dining room table and laid her down. He kissed the lips of her pussy gently before he climbed on top of her and entered her again. This time she took him in more lithe and smooth. She rolled her hips up against each of his thrusts like a trained belly dancer and draped her arms around his body.
Ryan whispered softly in Rachel's ear, "Kiss me when you come."
She whimpered her response and after many sharp breaths and audible gasps she lifted her head and pressed her mouth to Ryan's as her muscles tensed around him.
Ryan, driven over the edge by this, began shooting waves into her while grunting into her mouth as they came together. Finally, Ryan collapsed in a heap of flesh on top of Rachel and there they lay for some time.
In fact, Ryan wasn't aware at all how much time had passed because he wondered if he hadn't fallen asleep while laying on Rachel, who, though not protesting, was still struggling for air with the weight of his body on top of hers.
He quickly climbed off the table, apologizing.
"It's okay. We're both just tired. It's been a long day for us." Rachel said this thinking about the fact that she had not only fucked Ryan in three places in the house, but also had her pussy eaten by his wife before she left.
"Come sleep with me." Ryan took Rachel by the hand and began lazily leading her to master bedroom.
Rachel hesitated, "Isn't that going a little far?"
"What, it's okay to have sex on the kitchen table, but sleeping in my bed is off limits?"
She hated it when he outwitted her. "It just seems like spending the night together is... somehow different."
Ryan continued leading Rachel to the bedroom. "You've lived in this house... almost five years now? All you're doing is sleeping in a different room for once."
In short, Ryan wasn't going to take no for an answer, and Rachel was far too exhausted to match wits with him.
In the morning, Rachel jumped at the sight of the clock, seeing that it was almost 5. Normally, Anne was awake and ready to leave the house by 5:30. Rachel tried to be up and ready to help see Anne off for work. She was also started by her surroundings. The bed was so lush and she was comfortable. And next to her was Ryan, naked and deep in slumber.
She was torn. She felt like she should stay in bed and sleep until she felt rested, but part of her worried that if Ryan found her there, he'd regret bringing her there, and if things ever became awkward in the house, she knew she'd lose her job.
She looked longingly at Ryan. She wanted to touch him, wake him, stroke his cock until it was hard and take him, but she knew he had to work that day, and he'd have no shorter than an 11 hour day, so she let him sleep. With her final decision made, she climbed out of bed and began making her way to the door, realizing her clothes were somewhere in the room still. It was only her bra and panties that remained in the kitchen. She successfully found her shirt and went rummaging for her jeans when she misguided herself into the side of the entertainment center, unable to contain a particularly loud expletive of pain.
Ryan sprung up immediately, and squinting, he found Rachel on her knees in the front of the bedroom.
"Rachel? What happened? What are you doing up so early?"
"I kicked your fucking furniture looking for my clothes. And I'm not up early. I should have been up a long time ago. At least if Anne were here, but I was trying to let you sleep while I got up."
She was talking too fast and to loud at this time of morning for Ryan, "No, no no no." He held a palm to his forehead, shaking his head with his eyes closed. "Come back to bed and sleep a couple more hours with me. We'll find all the clothes in the morning."
Half an hour of Rachel's inner logic and a firmly stubbed toe later, her body was back in bed next to him, and her theories were shot to hell.
She snuggled against him, nuzzling his neck, "You should be careful about this, Ryan. I could get used to this."
Ryan muttered something, but it was unintelligible. He wrapped his arm around Rachel and was sound asleep.
At the sound of the alarm, Ryan smacked it off and stretched, only then remembering that Rachel was there. Even though Anne only woke up with him on weekends, he still was more used to waking up alone.
Rachel drowsily looked at Ryan, both of them were completely bare.
Ryan knew better to drain his energy at the beginning of the day but something about this woman energized him in a new way. Though only 16 years older than Rachel, he felt comforted by feeling too much like he could be her father. As his thoughts went in one direction, his body another; toward Rachel.
Helpless to the nibbles on her neck and collarbone, she knew he was getting hot. His hands began to roam over her skin and the moment he reached her inner thigh, Rachel let out a blissful sigh, a sound that fueled Ryan further.
His mouth found one of her nipples and began licking before sucking very gently. He crawled between her legs and moved his mouth from Rachel's nipple to her mouth.
"We shouldn't be doing this." Rachel whispered just as he entered her.
"Yet witness the lack of your protest to my cock inside your body." Ryan grunted between breaths, intent on holding his wit, even at the most trying of times.
Rachel moaned and sighed her pleasures as he worked her body. Finally she mustered the energy to roll him over and hoisted herself up on to her knees, flinging her long black hair backward. She rode him deep and hard now, the morning and extra sleep were now giving her unfound energies.
She was rocking her hips down on him, working her muscles to massage Ryan's cock, when she found herself raking her nails down his chest. Ryan grunted in pleasure as his cock twitched inside Rachel's pussy. Rachel liked the way they sunk into the lush deep mattress when they were on top of each other. It was like the bed was inviting them.
"Baby, do that again." Ryan sighed.
Rachel's mind reeled. He'd never called her Baby before. Assuming it was a mistake, made out of years of habit with Anne, she raked her nails down Ryan's chest again. As her nails pulled at his heaving flesh, Rachel realized he called Anne "Honey" on occasion, but to her knowledge, he'd never called Anne baby.
Her contemplation was cut short because soon, Ryan was groaning aloud, teetering over and off the edge of his own pleasure. He came into Rachel so hard it triggered Rachel's orgasm, just seeing him in such bliss. She felt the hot streams shooting into her, a feeling she was growing to love, desire, and crave when he was away.
She cried his name out and he sat up and kept her in his lap as she came, holding her close murmuring into ear, "That's right, baby, come to me."
Rachel nearly fainted at the words and the perfect timing in which they were spoken to her. As each of their orgasm-tense bodies began to soften, they fell back to the bed. Now they were face to face with their legs entwined.
"What would you be doing right now if Anne kids were here?" Ryan asked absently.
Rachel, mind just as open and absent, "Making breakfast for the kids, getting them out of bed and dressed. Reading homework...." Her voice trailed off, "I'm supposed to be taking care of you. You should be getting ready for work right now."
"I wish I didn't have to go." Ryan said softly. "I just want to stay here with you."
Rachel felt her heart melt a little, but she insisted on keeping her composure.
"You're an actor. You don't get sick days." She tugged the sheets off of him, leaving him exposed completely. "Up with you!" She found her shirt and put it on deciding she didn't need her pants to make toast and brew coffee.
"Alright! Jesus! I'm going. Are you sure you're not a director in disguise? You act like one sometimes."
"Whatever, Ryan. Quit whining and get into the shower."
"See? That's what I mean!"
"I almost never know what you mean." Rachel gathered her jeans in her arms.
"You're pushy!" Ryan said as he tried to slam the bathroom door, but Rachel stopped the door and kissed him deeply.
"I'm caring, loving, nurturing, and protective... I believe those were the reasons you hired me, right?"
Ryan kissed her back and Rachel let him go, reluctantly to take his shower.
She made her way to the kitchen, gathering up the rest of the discarded clothes, putting them in the laundry room. She went back to the kitchen and started the coffee and toast while she thought back on the past 24 hours.
Rachel relished in taking care of Ryan. As many times as she told herself to stop it, her imagination boldly stepped forward as she began to see herself as a fixture. Even as much as it pained her to think of a wedge between Anne and Ryan, she found out how much she loved Ryan... yes, she loved him. She poured his coffee and made his toast just like she did every morning as a nanny, only now she lingered for a kiss or two.
When he went off to work, she spent the day cooking gourmet dinners for him, and despite his long hours, they'd eat together by candle light, and retired to bed together, where night after night, their "fucking" truly did turn to "love making". They could see the inner monologues in each other's eyes of how wrong it was, so it was pointless to verbalize it. It was cliche and awful that a week alone with together would be enough to coerce these kinds of feelings.
It was Thursday morning when Rachel was bringing coffee and toast into Ryan's office that he asked her to sit down.
This is it, Rachel thought. The big kiss off. The 'this ends here' speech. The only reason Rachel felt upset at all was because she hoped to beat him to the punch. Maybe it would sting a little less.
"Rachel... I don't know how to say this."
"Um, you're married and I'm not your wife, so... we probably should stop fucking?" She looked at him and blinked, "How was that?"
Ryan just stared at her for a second before chuckling a little, "Okay. That was... well, blunt, but that's not really what I was trying to say." Ryan took a deep breath and stood up and moved from his desk chair to the sofa where Rachel sat. It was pointless for him to have a sofa in this room. Even though it was just another spare bedroom, it had a TV and Ryan's computer, and thus, it was dubbed Ryan's office since they moved in.
Ryan reached his hand out to touch her face, "This started out feeling like it was happening so fast, but to be honest, I've been falling for you for years."
Rachel swallowed hard and her heart began pounding. Ryan was right... this wasn't what she was thinking at all. In fact, the fact that any of what was happening that week felt attached in any way to the past. She would never allow it.
"No." Rachel shook her head and stood up, "That.... just, no. I can't let you say that to me."
"I just did."
"You have a wife! You have four perfect children!" Rachel had almost begun crying, but since she hadn't done that for as long as she could remember, tears were no where near her eyes.
"I know I have a wife and children. Believe me. I'm confused. I didn't expect this to happen, but somehow, eventually, I knew it would. I've been waiting since the first day you came to work with us."
"For you," Rachel corrected sternly. "I work for you."
"You can't call me an selfish asshole one day and then start degrade yourself to me the next, Rachel. I love you. And yes, I love Anne. I just don't know how or if I can go on loving both of you."
"You're going to be late for work," was all Rachel could reply before she stood up and left the room.
Ryan knew better than to chase after her. He laid a whopper on her and he felt a bit like an ass doing so, leaving her with nothing to do but stew on it all day while he kept plenty busy at work. As he fought his way through mid-morning traffic, he vowed a way to make it up to her.
The easiest, he thought, was to just admit he was wrong. That when he comes home tonight, maybe he could get away with retracting everything he said. He felt childish and selfish, and everything about his performances that day reflected the way he felt.
When he returned that night, he was glad to see that her car was still in the garage, but there seemed to be no sign of her in the house. There was no dinner on the table. No candles. No lights from the guest house glimmering from the back yard. In fact, after searching the main house, it was almost like Rachel never existed.
Hoping against hope that Rachel had simply gone to bed in her own bed, Ryan headed into the back yard to try to talk to her there. That's when he smelt the faint scent of cigarette smoke, and turned to find Rachel sitting in the dark, a new, but half-smoked pack of cigarettes sitting next to her and a coffee cup used as a make-shift ash tray. In her lap were the stacks of drawings and letters Ryan and Rachel's children had taken from the walls and off the refrigerator.
"What are you doing?"
"I didn't know you smoked."
"I quit five years ago." Rachel's voice was steady, without a strand of emotion, still staring at the drawings. "I figured since the kids made these drawings for me, I could keep them. The car is technically in your name, so that's yours. You've already paid me for this year. If nothing else, I'll owe you for the rest of the year, but at least I can keep these."
She flipped through each drawing one at a time as though she'd been doing it all night. In fact, it was in all likelihood that she had.
"Rachel, I was being a selfish asshole this morning. I had no right to do that to you. Can we..." he was losing ground fast, it was obvious. "Can we just... please," he pleaded, "please pretend this morning never happened?"
Rachel lit another cigarette, her eyes stayed dry and looking straight ahead. The tone of her voice, in stark contrast to Ryan's, Rachel's still remained monotonous and emotionless.
"What part should I pretend never happened? The part where you told me you loved me? Or the part where I believed it enough to quit my job?" She exhaled her drag, "I can't live here, anymore, and we both know that. Even under normal circumstances, I'd have to leave, but these are far from normal circumstances. The press would crush you and they'd take Anne and the kids down with you." Only then did Rachel's eyes meet Ryan's, "Maybe you'd be willing to let that happen, but I'm not."
Ryan was left speechless. Any way he dressed this up now, it would all be boiled down to selfish lust and his precious children would grow up thinking of their father as the man either drove off their mother or their best friend, all while the world watched it on television and read every detail in the magazines.
In the dark, Rachel finished her cigarette, while Ryan tried to figure out how or what to say in parting words. Somehow, "Don't worry about paying back the rest of this year's salary," didn't seem appropriate.