The bug is sleep.
He stared at the text message and sighed in relief, knowing that at least when his long work night ended he wouldn't be bombarded with a ten year old possessing enough energy to power the world. Too involved in the work at his desk he didn't bother replying, eyes aching from staring at the mound of paperwork on his desk.
He couldn't be more grateful for his new nanny, bringing her on quickly as the last one simply vanish along with a few valuables and his gas card. She was younger, a part time healthcare worker, and a full-time nanny. She had introduced his son to her culture and although the moments were priceless he'd pay thousands to see his son as happy as she had made him.
The motion sensor in his room alerted his phone and he noisily picked it up, praying she wasn't stealing or snooping through the things in his bedroom. He watched as she gathered miscellaneous clothes and toys, tidying up the space without him asking. He sat his phone beside him, glancing between his work and the young woman cleaning his room. Minutes went by and he couldn't help but stare at her petite frame cleaning his room like she was being held at gun point.
Sweat beads formed at his forehead as she grabbed the box sticking from under his bed, moving it to the side to grab his robe that had gently cloaked the box of things.
"Don't open it." He sighed, hoping to avoid an extremely weird interaction upon his arrival at home. But of course, she opened it. He couldn't see her face, as her back was turned towards the camera but he could tell she was studying the contents of the box. Her posture never faltered and for a second it looked like she was going to put the box back.
It seemed like he had only blinked and she was hiking her skirt up. A mental dilemma flooded through him, on one hand it was his home. On the other hand, he hadn't forewarned her about the cameras. A text now would be too embarrassing, so instead of taking the moral high ground. He watched.
She bent over the bed, rubbing the inside of her thighs as she held an object from the box. His eyes were wide and he hurriedly turned up the volume, salivating with no shame. Her small moans sounded like symphonies and his eyes jetted to his office door to confirm it was locked.
He reveled in the way she seemed to adore touching herself, on his bed nonetheless.
"This is wrong." He sighed, putting his head in his hands. To his surprise when he stole one more glance at the surveillance footage, she was looking back and staring directly into the camera. Moaning.
So she knows.
A small smirk crept up his face and he cracked his knuckles. Watching the wet stain on her underwear become more prevalent he wondered why he was at work in the first place. After what seemed like hours of watching her using the vibrator provided by his secret box of treasures, he gathered his belongings and got in the car.
He was adamant on not crashing but couldn't seem to put his phone away as the events were happening in real time. Her afro bounced as she twitched and never broke eye contact. Nothing could convince him she wasn't a vixen sent to him at just the right time. Her waist beads caught the dim lighting and it seemed like his ten minute drive lasted twenty.
Upon entering the house he closed the door softly, hoping to catch her in the act. Sinful thoughts raced through his head as he imagined what he would do to her. Would she scream and quit? Would she moan and pull him in? He couldn't decide whether or not to ascend the stairs so he simply stared at them for a few seconds. Was a quick nut going to take rank over his sins happiness? He was unpleasantly surprised as her afro popped up from the couch and her smile glimmered.
"Good afternoon." She laughed, taking in his startled expression.
He was at a loss for words, trying to force his mouth closed. Seconds ago she was bent over touching herself on his bed, now she was on his couch seemingly normal.
"We had such a good day today. I took him to my job at the nursing home, he's such a ladies man." She shook her head. "Then we went to his favorite Jamaican spot."
Repeatedly being surprised in his own home he finally mustered out a question. "His favorite Jamaican spot?" His son sounded like a stranger, and all pointers lead to his work taking over his family life. The family he had left.
"Yeah downtown on east Ave, across from the Y. We got you some food too." She pointed towards the fridge. After minutes of endless silence and him standing in the same spot she started getting concerned. "You okay?"
Pushing his curls back from his face he let out a sigh, surely he had been hallucinating and there was no way the woman ten years younger then him was just pleasuring herself on his bed. "Long day at work." He responded, grabbing his wallet out of his suit jacket.
"Do you want a drink?" The question caught him off guard but he nodded his head, flipping through the crisp money as she disappeared into the kitchen. He was trying to think of anything that could tame his growing erection but her smell wasn't helping.
"Boy do I have a fucking imagination." He whispered to himself, placing her payment on top of her purse and beginning to take off his shoes. Her small feet pattered against the hardwood floor and before he knew it she was kneeling in front of him to help him take his shoes off. Their usual interactions were extremely formal, straight to the point and mostly about his son or the stock market.
Placing his shoes aside she handed him the cold glass of whiskey and sat nonchalantly in front of him. "You should take a day off from the bank. Maybe you'll be less..." She trailed off trying to find the right word.
He laughed. "Tense. Big headed? Mean?" He humored her.
Scratching her ear she looked away. "I was going to say pent up I mean."
"When you get to my age you'll understand." He rolled his eyes. He was two blinks from forty listening to the very young and preppy woman call him stressed.
Packing away her things she rolled her eyes back. "I'm literally twenty-five."
"Your height makes you look fifteen." He chuckled before watching her face fall. "That's a good thing right? I mean you're still a hell of a sexy woman." In rushing to save himself, he had clearly revealed his inner thoughts.
A devious smile pulled across her face as she stood in front of the door. "So you liked what you seen?" She wondered, catching him off guard.
Finishing his drink he sat back. "You knew I was watching."
Letting go a small nod she fixed her tennis skirt awkwardly. "I was banking on it. See you next week." And she was gone, leaving him with an empty cup and full balls.
