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Bad Nanny

By:C.M. Stunich



“Move for me,” I growl, curling my hands around my new lady friend's hips. She's got almost as many tattoos as I do and the kaleidoscope mind-fuck of her arching her back above me is just about enough to send me over the edge.

She squeals and giggles as I flip her over and run my fingers through her hair. It's like cotton candy, all pink and soft and shit. I fucking love Las Vegas. Ever since I moved here and got a job as a body piercer, I've had so many opportunities to meet new friends. Friends that smell like body butter, with soft skin, and healthy sexual appetites.

Oh yeah.

This is the real “City That Never Sleeps” and there's no way in hell I would ever leave. I don't think this girl, Kitty, and me have slept in three days. Thank God for holiday weekends, right?

“Oh, Zay,” she moans, running her tongue up the side of my face. I grab her wrists in my hands and slam them into the pillow behind her head, nipping at her exposed throat as I thrust hard and fast, slamming our pelvises together with the sweet sound of flesh on flesh. Oh God yes. “You are the world's fucking hottest nerd.”

I grin big.

“Hey, just because I take breaks to shoot rebel soldiers online with my buddies does not make me a nerd.” I put a little extra strength in my next thrust and get rewarded with a guttural groan from Kitty's pretty little lips. If she hadn't walked into the shop to get her tits pierced on Friday, I'd have missed out on all this fun. Lucky me.

“You have a toy collection, Zayden,” she says, but I don't respond. If she's able to talk, then I'm not doing my job right.

“What if I asked you to be one of my little toys? Because I want to play all night long with your movable parts.” Kitty laughs and I groan. Ladies, laughter tightens up all those muscles downstairs. Guys fucking love it. Laugh more during sex, pretty please.

I nibble Kitty's lower lip, tasting cherry lip gloss, and slide my tongue into her mouth. Fuck, do I love women. They always smell so good, feel so soft, taste so sweet. If I had to list my hobbies for a stranger, it'd go like this: fucking, video games, fucking, and listening to pop music. But don't tell anybody about that last one or I'll have to kill you.

I squeeze Kitty's wrists tighter, fuck her harder, and feel myself on the verge of a mind-blowing orgasm when my phone goes off, buzzing across the nightstand like a vibrator gone rogue.

The ringtone is the song Toxic, but not the Britney Spears version (even though I secretly dig it). I had to save face, so I put on A Static Lullaby's cover instead.

There's only one person on my contacts list that has that ringtone and he never calls.

I pause for a moment, but Kitty wiggles beneath me and I end up dropping my mouth to her freshly pierced nipples. I run my tongue around one and avoid the sore spot, teasing just close enough to make her squirm.

“I'm coming, Zay,” she groans as my cock drives deeper and harder. I can feel her tightening around me, getting ready to explode. Thank God. I don't think I could hold on much longer.

The phone stops ringing and then immediately starts up a second time.

I pause yet again, and Kitty ends up getting her hands free, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“So close,” she whispers against my ear. “So close. Don't stop.”

So I keep going and then fucking fuck, there goes that damn phone again.

“I have to answer it,” I say, because my brother, he only calls if there's an emergency. I stay right where I am, wrapped up inside of Kitty, and lean over to take the call.

“What the fuck do you want? This better be good. I'm entertaining company right now.”

My brother doesn't hesitate to rip me a new one.

“Do you have any compassion at all, Zayden? What is your goddamn problem? It's not like I ever ask you for anything. You never return my phone calls or texts, never come home for the holidays.”

“Okay, and what's wrong with that? It's not as if we're exactly close,” I say and then sit back in shock when Kitty slaps me across the face with an open hand.

“I was close,” she snaps at me, shoving me back and climbing off the bed. I watch in stunned frustration as she gathers her jeans and tugs them on. “Enjoy the rest of your Thursday, you dick.”

The front door slams closed behind her as I tug off my condom with a growl. Great. Just great. And I didn't even get her number or her last name. What a waste.

“I need your help, Zayden,” Rob says, and I catch the strain in his voice right off the bat. Whatever this is, it really is serious. I feel a little guilty for being an asshole—to both Rob and Kitty—and climb off the bed to dispose of the condom in the trash can under the window. “It's Mercedes' parents,” he continues as I open the top drawer of my dresser and grab some boxers. My hard-on's long gone now, no point in wandering around naked. Feels kind of wrong to have my junk hanging out when I'm talking to my brother, you know what I mean?

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