As Nellie obeyed, using her index finger after first moistening it between her pussy lips, she felt shivers that had nothing to do with the chill. She inserted her finger slowly into her asshole, knowing how much the old man loved to watch it disappear.
This wasn't the first time this little performance had taken place. It wouldn't be the last, she told herself.
She began to finger fuck her own asshole, moving her long tapered finger in deeper and deeper until it was buried up inside her hot tight hole.
"Fuck it," cried the old man. "Fuck yourself!"
And Nellie did. Bent over, her bare legs wide apart, one hand holding her buttocks open, she began to slide her finger in and out, in deep then, pulling it out every so slowly, listening to the old man's increasing breathing, his huffing and also the sound of his fist on his thickening cock.
At his advanced age the old man had no problem at all 'getting it up'.
Within moments, Nellie could feel her hairy cunt pounding, filling up. She could feel heat being generated up inside her bowels as she worked her finger in and out, increasing the rhythm, then slowing down, sometimes, letting her finger plop out with a noise, then sliding it back up inside where she'd fuck fuck fuck with it, jabbing in short spearing jabs, making a lot of wet liquid noises as the old man drew his chair closer to her.
When she could feel his hot breath on her bare behind, then feel his hair brushing over her skin, she pulled her finger all the way out.
Backing up really close to his face now, Nellie held her buttocks open further. Now she knew he could see everything she owned.
Bending way over, she spread her legs so wide apart, she had to balance on her hands in a kind of ballet pose to keep from losing her balance.
When she felt the tip of her grandfather's hot wet tongue glide over her exposed asshole, she let out a wild squeal.
When she felt his hands prying her ass cheeks wider apart, she backed up fully. Now he was washing her naked behind with his tongue as she humped back into his hot, perspiring face.
"Oh, Nellie… ohooooooo, Nell," the old man was moaning. "Don't it feel real nice, honey?"
"Hmmmmmmmmm."
"Don't it feel real nice, lass?"
"Hmmmmmmmmm."
Nellie began to writhe and sway, her delicious buttocks shining wet from the old man's saliva. Sticking two fingers up inside her wet, hot cunt, she began to finger fuck her cunt as she moved her sweet ass in her grandfather's hot face.
"Don't it make you hot for cock, Nell?"
"Hmmmmmmmmm. Yesssssss, Grandpop."
"Oh Nell… it's so good. So sweet."
"… Grandpop…?"
"Yeah, Nell? Yeah, lass?"
"Grandpop, you maybe wanna rub your dick all over my asshole, maybe, huh?"
"Yes, Nell. Yes, dear. Sit back. Sit back, baby."
Nellie sat back and as she did she felt the head of his stiff cock brushing over her asshole. She began to weave and glide over it, bracing herself; balanced so that as she lowered her behind, her grandfather would be able to aim and insert his cock and it would slide easily up inside her appetizing asshole.
And when she felt the entire organ filling her up, she began pumping on it like a wild woman, squealing and crying, her huge breasts quivering, her lips parted, her fingers working furiously on her burning clitoris…
Chapter 10
Nellie's very first job was that of an au pair in Paris. She got this job with a French family through an employment agency who found British girls who wanted to learn the French language and who would work their asses off for French families doing everything from taking care of the brats, to housecleaning, doing the shopping, a veritable slave for only a little money, a small room and leftovers from the family table.
Many au pairs are also expected to either fuck the stupid, often very dull, bourgeois (middle-class) husbands on their one day a week day-off, or climb in bed with the bored wife on rainy afternoons after taking the brats to school, or to their grandmothers.
Nellie lasted just long enough on her first job to pay back the agency in London for the privilege of suffering, half starving to death in a lonely, unfriendly foreign country.
Although she tried, she could make no friends. The other au pair girls,*also British, or Scottish, or Swedish, Norwegian, German, et cetera, she just did not get along with.
She found most of them to be pretty stupid and not at all attractive. None of them were particularly interested in her story. And definitely, Nellie was not interested in theirs. Few spoke English she could understand and this was a further barrier to any kind of understanding that might have promised some kind of a decent on-going relationship with another girl.
Finally, in the International Herald Tribune, the English-language newspaper in Paris, she saw an ad for a female house servant willing to travel. She dialed the number, was referred by the person who answered it. In a day or so, she was flown to Nice.
It was here she met Mrs. Melissa Staunton; and the two got along beautifully right from the very beginning.
Melissa took Nellie to the chateau in the long, sleek black limousine with Maurice driving. Nellie from London was very much impressed indeed. So much impressed, in fact, that she cried.
"What's the matter, dear?" asked Melissa. They were sitting in the rear of the luxurious car as Maurice was waiting for a spot to drop them off at one of the most expensive and exclusive boutiques on the Promenade des Anglais in Nice.
"Nothing, nothing, really."
Melissa put her hand on the girl's knee. "Is it that you're homesick, Nellie? Maybe we should go find an English place and have a drink or something? What do you say?"
Nellie couldn't believe her ears. To begin with, the first time she saw Mrs. Staunton, she couldn't believe she was so lucky. God, Mrs. Staunton was lovely. A middle-aged woman with remarkably good looking features, a face with no wrinkles, twinkling eyes and a lovely lithe body, expensively dressed and quite obviously, very wealthy.
Nellie was impressed with the chateau, the chauffer and his uniform, the woman at the chateau, a certain Madame Andre and with George, the man about the house who took care of just about everything.
After the drinks in the English Pup in downtown Nice where Nellie had time to catch her breath, for the first time in a long time hearing her own native language spoken, seeing familiar signs in English, recognizing British beers and whiskeys, et cetera, the Cockney girl began to relax and at the same time, with Melissa sitting next to her, began to understand that her life was changing dramatically, and obviously for the better.
And after an afternoon of shopping where people were so courteous, pleasant and attractive, driving back in the limousine was utter heaven.
That first night in her own room in the chateau, Nellie cried herself to sleep.
As the days passed and Nellie grew accustomed to the lace, to her work, which, was very light and not at all demanding, and eventually to the strangeness between Madame Andre and the mysterious George whom she found fascinating for reasons she couldn't put her finger on, Nellie realized that happiness was to be hers.
When Mrs. Staunton began taking Nellie with her on other excursions, not only shopping but to cafe meetings with her friends where Nellie, all dressed up in new clothing she couldn't believe, sat quietly while Melissa chatted the afternoons away, the English girl found herself falling madly in love with Melissa.
There were many afternoons, endless mornings, and especially evenings when Mrs. Staunton's, "Nellie, I won't be needing you today, or whatever, darling," would hurt her deeply.
It wasn't that Madame Andre pushed her around in terms of doing work in the house. All she had to do was mostly care for Melissa's apartment, Melissa's things, clothing, makeup, et cetera, her huge collection of shoes, negligees, robes, gowns, and especially her lingerie.