What the Twins like to do to the Nanny, Part 1

by Passing Cloud

Her question surprised me. It didn't answer my question and yet somehow it did. I had never seen a naked woman. Occasionally I had seen my mother in her underclothes; sometimes in lacy or semi-transparent material and I would always be fascinated by the intriguing dark area in her panties or by her large round breasts. I knew that I would like to see what was underneath: in fact once, when I was very young, driven by curiosity, I had reached out a tentative finger to touch the shaded area between my mother's legs only to be severely chided in response. That moment cemented my fascination with what had instantly become something forbidden and therefore desirable.

I shook my head - my mute response I hoped was qualified by the longing I tried to convey with my eyes.

A little giggle and Rebecca grabbed my hand and we fairly skipped across the warm grass to where the nanny patiently waited. Rachel followed closely.

Once again we faced her. Once again her eyes were averted in supplication.

"Take all your clothes off."

Rebecca's instruction was abrupt, clear and unequivocal and it sent a thrill through me unlike anything previously. It felt for a moment that all things had stopped: frozen in motion. I felt the hot sun on my skin; a gentle breeze in my hair; I could smell the grass and the flowers and hear the soft hum of bees. It was a moment of clarity and yet of excitement. My heart was beating fast and I had to breathe deeply. Quite simply, I was relishing the moment.

I think, looking back, that the excitement was so great that I unconsciously needed to confirm that this was really happening. I looked at the sky, almost distracted by the dazzling blue. I looked around at the trees; noticed a jaybird swooping out of sight beyond the high wall. I breathed deeply again and returned my eager gaze to the woman.

Without a word she lifted her dress again but this time didn't stop and hold it high, she carried on and pulled it over her head. My heart beat faster: - was that a slight smile I noticed?

Now I did feel a sensation between my legs: a new warmth. I wanted to squeeze my legs together. I wanted to press on my little slit. I had a sudden picture in my mind of Rebecca and Rachel with their hands inside my panties like they had been with the nanny. I liked that picture.

She reached behind her to unfasten her bra, her eyes cast down again, and it seemed to take an age for the straps to loosen as she brought her hands back around and slipped the cups from her breasts. I audibly gasped as she took the garment off and dropped it on the ground. I could see everything - the beautiful rounded orbs; her tanned smooth skin; her nipples standing proud within small brown areola. I looked quickly from Rebecca to Rachel and back again and saw their eager, smiling faces. I recognised the lust in their eyes even though I couldn't name it, and I saw the flush in their cheeks as I felt it in mine.

The nanny however didn't pause or hesitate. She hooked her thumbs in the waist of her panties and pushed them down, bending over as she slid them along her legs to her ankles and then slipped them over her feet. I watched her breasts sway as she moved and studied her nipples from a different angle. I noted these things. I wanted to see and remember every detail.

She stood up then, perfectly straight. Her arms were by her side only now her head was tilted slightly up; almost proud. She was naked except for her flat, fabric shoes.

"Take off everything," ordered Rebecca.

She bent again to remove the shoes then stood erect again; her bare feet on the soft grass.

I stared at her in fascination and wonder.

I admired her lovely face and skin. My eyes caressed her proud breasts and lingered there in delight, but inevitably my gaze was drawn down across her flat belly to the mysterious triangle of dark hair between her legs.

I found myself increasingly wanting to touch her. I was drawn to her with a sudden longing that almost overwhelmed me, but I managed to retain control and just stood and stared; my mouth open, my eyes wide, my face red: my young lust rising.

"Have a good look," said Rebecca. "Go closer if you want."

I glanced at Rebecca who smiled warmly, so I stepped towards the nanny who still didn't move. I stood very close to her. I could her breathing; smell her perfume. My head came up to her breasts. I stared at her nipples inches from my eyes. I walked around her relishing every inch of her. I noted the line of her shoulder blades and the soft down on the back of her neck. I gazed at her lovely round buttocks for what seemed ages but must only have been seconds. I was drawn to the neat cleft between them and had an urge to kiss and lick her there.

"Feel her."

It was Rachel.

I stared; mute, first at Rachel then at Rebecca.

"You have to do what we tell you, it's the rules," said Rebecca with a grin.

"Feel her," repeated Rachel.

I nervously reached out towards her. Surely this was going too far. I was sure that, like my mother before, she would slap my hand away and shame me with her rejection and anger.

But no; my hand touched her arm, lightly, and she didn't move. She didn't even flinch. It was only the faintest touch, and it was only her arm, but I felt that I had touched her so intimately, so personally, that it was almost sinful: wonderfully, gloriously sinful.

Emboldened, I ran my fingertips along her arm to her hand. I stroked her fingers; turned her hand around so I could touch her palm. I caressed her fingertips, and then did the same with the other hand. I ran my hands across her back; reached up to her shoulders; stroked her neck; her flanks; ran my hands over her hips and crouched down behind her to feel the whole length of her legs. My face was level with her buttocks, my lips almost touching that glorious cleft. I started to put my tongue out to lick her - it seemed the natural thing to do - but stopped myself, afraid again of going over the mark.

I stood and moved round to her front.

Her breasts were rising and falling gently in front of my eyes. I was transfixed. I dare not move, dare not touch - even though I wanted to with all my heart.

Rebecca came and stood beside me. She took hold of my hand.

"Feel her properly," she said, and placed my hand full on her breast, the nipple directly under my palm. I gasped again, but my hand stayed there.

"Squeeze it," ordered Rebecca.

I squeezed.

"Squeeze her here like this, with your finger and thumb," and she took the nipple of her other breast between her finger and thumb and pinched it, then pulled it, then pinched again then stroked it rhythmically without stopping, and said, "Go on."

I did as she said, pinching gently, rubbing, pulling, squeezing, stroking - it was wonderful. I loved it - even more when I heard a soft moan escape from her now parted lips.

"Why is she making that noise?" I whispered to Rebecca.

"It's because she likes it," she replied. "She's a dirty, naughty, nanny."

It was then that Rachel, who had been watching all the while, came over and said, "Why don't we give her a Special Tickle? I bet Ellie would enjoy doing that."

"What's a Special Tickle?" I asked, genuinely interested, the nanny's nipple still gripped in my fingers.

"We'll show you," replied Rachel and, turning to the nanny, said, "Open your legs."