Page 22 of Nanny to the Mafia


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Swimming.

In my fucking pool.

I stood frozen watching her swim laps, breaking the water smoothly. I wanted to be that fucking water. If she looked up, she would see me standing naked with a hard dick eager to say hi.

Thank fuck I hadn’t switched on the lights.

She got out of the water.

I shouldn’t watch. I was a gentleman.

I closed my eyes.

My house. My show. Who was I kidding? I was no gentleman anyway.

My eyes flicked open.

Fuck if I wasn’t going to watch.

She was one delicious rapture of caramel and brown from top to toe. Clad in a skimpy, white bikini, she still didn’t solve my dilemma of her tan lines. Did she sunbathe nude? Like a Kinder Bueno, she appeared out of the water, one delicious piece at a time. Her long hair, wet and sleek, was tucked behind her ear, keeping it away from her shining face in the moonlight, with drops of water sliding underneath the band of white and running down to her breasts. I pictured her golden, semi-brown globes begging for my mouth. My memory showed me what I couldn’t see hidden beneath the thin fabric. They would be just the right size. They would fit in my hands like a mould. Those delicious chocolate brown nipples would have beads of water clinging to them. Ideal for a thirsty man’s midnight drink. My eyes trailed the water trickling past her smooth, flat belly and her curved hips down to her white slip, which I hoped hid a clean-shaven paradise. Just the way I liked it. My entire being itched with the need to be those beads of water and find out myself.

I watched her walk to the sun lounger and pick up her towel.

Fuck.

Her ass.

The urge to slam my dick in her and hear her cum while screaming my name in her broken voice overtook me. My cock jerked. I wrapped my hand around it and rubbed the pre-cum over the head, providing comfort even though it screamed for more.

I listened to her come inside the house, her feet pitter-pattering on the wooden floors as she went to her room.

Fuck.

So, this is how she entertained herself in my absence.

It gave me immense pleasure to know that only I had access to the surveillance images of the private areas. This show was for my fucking eyes only.

DIVYA

“Prego.” Rosa put down the most delicious, American pancakes in front of me. Her smile was as sweet as the caramel oozing out of them. She has been making every variety of pancakes she could find ever since she found out how much I loved them.

“Thank you,” I said as Rosa went back to the kitchen. I started on the delight in front of me, enjoying the sugar going inside me as much as Cora next to me in her chair, gobbling down her milk. My bliss in the sugar rush altered to a tickle of awareness floating into the room. I turned to find Antonio coming towards us.

Not only did the man look good, but he knew how to dress well. While all his men around him were in black and white, he most often was not. His soft grey shirt combined beautifully with his beige linen coat. Only an expert could combine cold and warm colours to bring out the bang.

Wait. He was back? Wasn’t he supposed to only arrive tonight?

I had explicitly asked Armando last night when he was going to be back.

He bucked down to Cora’s level, whispering all kinds of sweet nothings in Italian and filling her chubby face with soft kisses.

My cheeks warmed as if his kisses were laid on me. He was close enough to me to smell him. Something musky and woody with a touch of sandalwood. The urge to nuzzle my face in his neck was strong.

Leaving Cora’s side, he moved past me to the bench across from me.

“Buon giorno, Divya.” He said my name like we’d woken up together after a wild night. Soooo hot.

Hot was what I had been last night before I had indulged in some swimming. Not every day that a girl found herself in a private pool with no man in sight. Or I had thought.

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