Nanny with extra service

It all started because I needed a part-time job to have extra money for college. Luckily, the area where I live is pretty wealthy, and I’d seen several ads looking for a nanny. The pay was good, it was four or five hours, and in most cases, the work was easy.

One night, after working at the house of a couple with plenty of money, I stayed extra hours and it was already late, so the girl’s husband offered to drive me to my apartment. I was tired and accepted. During the ride I noticed he kept staring at my legs. I was wearing a somewhat short skirt, and when I sat down it rode up a little more. The guy was in his 40s, but he was fit and pretty handsome. Since I already had his attention, I decided to flirt with him a little. One thing led to another and we ended up parked in an alley near my apartment. I climbed on top of him in the seat and, while I rode him, he confessed that from the first time he saw me he’d found me attractive, because most of the nannies were older. Every time they called me to work at their house, he couldn’t help looking at me. Hearing that turned me on a lot. I’d never been “the other woman,” so I gave him a good show: I rode him like never before and let him finish inside me.

When we finished, I joked that this was going to cost him more. Obviously I was kidding, but when I left he handed me about a hundred dollars extra on top of what I normally earn. Part of me felt offended. Another part thought it was bullshit… and that it was the easiest money I’d ever earned.

The next time I went to babysit at his house, he drove me back, we parked, and we played again before he dropped me off at my apartment. He paid me extra again, and it started to become a regular thing. Eventually, he hinted that a couple of other local men were interested in me and—if I wanted to “expand the business”—they’d likely be up for it. Now, I’ve reached the point where I occasionally get texts asking me to come work at their homes… even though I already know what they’re really after.

Yeah. Part of me isn’t exactly proud of myself. But the other part says it’s easy money… and how bad is it, really?