I had completed college and had my qualifications in child care. So now I just needed a job that utilised the qualifications that I had in order to get experience. I knew that jobs would be hard to find, but I kept persevering and looking, and then I found one that seemed ideal. A couple in Shipley were looking for an au pair to live in and look after their eight-month-old baby boy. One day off a week, on a Sunday, but the rest of the time, pretty much twenty-four-seven childcare.

I rang them and explained my position, and the woman, Marianne, asked me to go across that afternoon, and we could discuss it more. It was two buses to get to Shipley, but the connections were okay, and it only took just over an hour – not too bad. The address was a really big old house near the centre, Victorian perhaps, but certainly big and looked three stories, perhaps four if they had a basement.

I knocked on the door, and a woman, who seemed around thirty, answered. 

“Tasha?” she asked.

“Yes, Marianne? I am here to see about the au pair position.”

"Yes, of course you are. Come in.”

I followed her into the hallway and then through to a huge kitchen which overlooked a beautifully landscaped garden. I was surprised that they had such a large garden in the centre of the town; I suspected that this was a very valuable property.

She offered me a glass of water, which I accepted, and then she explained what she expected of me. She and her husband worked both away and from home; they had high-intensity positions and needed Oliver, their child, to be looked after completely during the week; they could have no interruptions. I would feed and clothe and entertain Oliver from Sunday night until the following Saturday night. I then had a day to myself.

Occasionally they may ask me to do Sunday as well, but that would be rare and would only be as their work dictated. We would have the third floor to ourselves; it had a nursery for Oliver, a kitchen, a bathroom, a bedroom for me, and a playroom. There was also a lift that I could use to get down to the ground floor in case I wanted to go out with Oliver. We had use of the garden on dry days. There was a full array of necessities: pushchairs, high chairs, cots, etc. She then asked if I could drive, as that would be essential if Oliver needed to go to appointments.

I said I could but that I didn’t have a car. She said that they would sort a small car for my use.

I asked if I could meet Oliver, and we went up in the lift to the third floor.

“This is my niece, Leah; she is staying to help look after Oliver until we can find a suitable au pair cum nanny.”

I said hello to Leah, who, to be honest, looked just like a younger version of Marianne – probably her sister’s daughter, I thought – and around the same age as me by the looks. I took Oliver from her and a bonus; Oliver didn’t immediately burst into tears. He was still a little chubby, as many babies are until they start toddling, something I learnt at college, and sat him on my hip. He was frankly quite a lovely baby, and I walked around the room with him, talking to him, even though I guessed he wouldn’t really understand much.

We, Oliver and I, went back to Marianne. "He is lovely,” I said and handed him back to Leah, who fussed over him.

“Let’s go back downstairs,” Marianne said. I followed her to the lift, and we went down to the kitchen.

“If I were to offer you the position, when would you be able to start?” Marianne asked.

“Oh, let me see. I would have to arrange with my mum to bring me over; I don’t want to lug my suitcase of clothes on the bus. Probably Sunday early evening. Can I ask about meal arrangements?”

“You will eat with Oliver; we will provide you with food. If you have any food allergies, let us know, and if we provide something that is not to your taste, then let us know. Probably the easiest is if you use our online shopping account for you and Oliver; that way you can get things like nappies and food for Oliver as well.”

“Oh, okay, no problem then. I tend to have Weetabix in the mornings and noodles or similar for lunch, and then evening meals tend to be jacket potato or that sort of thing. What food is Oliver on? Is he weaned? I assume he is.” 

“No and yes. He has formula, not my milk, and also has jarred baby food; we are cutting down the formula.”

“Okay, that is easy. So yes. If you want me to, I can start on Sunday evening. I will need to give you my bank details so that you can pay me, unless you wanted to do it by cash.”

"The bank will be fine. And yes, Sunday evening please. Saying around seven, you can get sorted and then take over at eight; my husband can then run Leah back home.”

“Sounds good. Are you offering me the position?”

"Yes, Tasha, if you want it.”

“Yes please, Oliver is lovely, and it would be a privilege to look after him.”

“Okay, we will see you on Sunday then. Just one thing: what is your clothes size so that we can get your uniform?"

Crumbs, a uniform. “Size ten usually fits, but it does vary from shop to shop.”

Getting back home was not so easy; the connections didn’t tie up, and I was waiting for forty minutes for my second bus. Mum was pleased that I had a job and said that she would take me across on Sunday. I think she wanted to meet the woman I would be working for. When Dad came home, he asked if I had met the father, and I said no, not yet; Sunday I expected unless he was away.

I spent the next two days deciding what I would be taking. My laptop, mobile, chargers, Kindle, and earbuds were essential, as were several layers of clothes, but if I were to wear a uniform, then I wouldn’t need that much variety, just loads of knickers and bras, some jeans, and a few dresses. If they got me a car, then hopefully I could use it to go out on Sundays and probably go home for Sunday dinner.

If I forgot anything, then Mum said she would bring it over, so hopefully no drama. Sunday soon came round; I had my bags in the car, and whilst Dad was loading the dishwasher after Sunday dinner, Mum ran me to Shipley. Marianne opened the door and greeted me warmly, and I introduced my mum. Marianne gave me a set of front door and back door keys and left me and Mum to it.

We took all my stuff up to my room, and I saw three neatly folded uniforms on the bed; they looked like the dresses that the nurses wore at the dentist. They were white with blue pinstriping. I ignored them for now, and with Mum's help I put all my clothes away and then put my suitcase on top of the wardrobe. I went downstairs with Mum, hugged her, and then she drove off, me having promised to phone her tomorrow and tell her about my day.

Back up in my room, I stripped my skirt and blouse off and tried on one of the uniforms. It fit okay, a bit tight on my bust, but not unmanageable. I wondered if there was enough give in the seams that I could unpick them and ease them. I would look another time, I decided. I looked in the mirror; the uniform really made me look the part, even though it was rather short.

I went through to the nursery, and Leah was sat in a chair with Oliver.

“Hiya,” I said. "How's he been?"

"Oh, good as gold. Right, this is you then now. I’ll pass you, Oliver, and I will see you next Sunday.”

"Okay." So it seemed that his parents weren’t going to do any actual parenting; they intended it to be all me and Leah. I took Oliver from Leah and held him on my hip. She kissed him goodbye, waved at me and was gone; I could hear the lift going down. I assumed Mark, Oliver's dad, would take her back home.

I played and fussed with Oliver for a while, and when his eyes were drooping, I laid him in his cot, stayed with him till he was properly asleep, and then went back to my room. My blouse and skirt would do another day, possibly my bra, but obviously not my knickers; they went into my laundry bag in my wardrobe. I would have to ask Marianne where the laundry was; I would need it to wash Oliver’s things as well as mine.

I had left my bedroom door open so that I could hear Oliver if he woke, and I was startled when a man spoke.

“You must be Tasha?"

“Yes, Mark? Oliver's dad?”

He was quite tall and slim, with very short hair on his head; it didn’t seem as if he were balding, just that he kept his hair short, with no beard or moustache. He looked fit, as if he worked out, but not muscled like the men that seem to overdo it. He was wearing a polo shirt and shorts.

“Yes. Everything alright? Have you everything that you need? Your uniform does look a good fit,” he said, his eyes roving up and down as he checked its look on me.

"Yes, Mark, thank you; I just need to know where the laundry is.”

“In the basement. Take the lift all the way down; there is a washer, dryer and hanging space for stuff that doesn’t go in the dryer. It should all be self-explanatory."

“Thank you, I should be okay for a few days; I guess it depends how messy Oliver gets. Where do I put his dirty nappies?"

“There is a bin in the laundry; they go in there. Here, this is everything that you should need.”

He handed me a piece of paper; it had the details of their Waitrose account, password, credit card details, name, address and phone number of the GP, and Mark and Marianne’s phone numbers.

“Have you done home shopping before?”

“Yes, I have helped my mum, so I know how it works; only we used Morrisons, but it will be pretty much the same.”

“Yes. Fine, well, I will leave you to it.”

He put his hand on mine and then said, “Marianne is going away on Tuesday; perhaps you and I can talk more later in the week. It will be nice to get to know you better.”

“Okay, Mark, thank you. I think I better just go and check Oliver."

Mark used the stairs, I noticed, rather than the lift; perhaps it helped keep him fit. I did think about what he had said and about getting to know me better and touching me. I may not be very experienced, but I wasn't completely naïve.

Oliver was sleeping soundly, so I went back to my room, stripped off – I always sleep naked – and ensured my uniform was to hand in case Oliver woke. I then got into bed.

Oliver woke once in the night; I gave him half a bottle, changed his nappy, and he went back to sleep until six. ‘Not too bad.' I thought. 'I can cope with that.' I would see what the day brought. I put him in his highchair with a rusk whilst I went and got washed and dressed. Back in the nursery I put Oliver on the changing station, changed him, washed him and put a new nappy and clean clothes on him.

I put him in the playpen and let him play with his noisy spinning top for a while whilst I prepared his breakfast. I could hear his parents moving around downstairs, but neither of them came up to see their son. The house quietened, I gave Oliver his banana porridge for breakfast, and then he played some more. Around nine he was tired again, so I put him in his cot for a nap.

While he was sleeping, I went down to the basement and checked out the laundry. It was straightforward, a good machine and a separate dryer. I put the soiled nappies in the bin and went back up. Oliver was still sleeping; I sat in the nursery rocking chair, grabbing the quiet time whilst I could. I expected my life from now on would involve napping whilst I could.

The afternoon had gone a similar way. Oliver was crawling quite quickly; I dare not take my eyes off him. I was helping him learn to walk; he had the leg movements but not yet the balance. He was a smiley baby; for that I was grateful. A crying and whinging baby would have been a handful.

I phoned Mum in the evening and told her how my day had gone, and after I had finished on the phone Mark popped into the nursery.

“Everything all right, Tasha? Any issues?”

"No, Mark, everything has been fine.”

“Okay, excellent,” he said, again his hand on my side. “Marianne is catching an early flight in the morning and will be gone for a few days. I am working from home tomorrow, so perhaps I will pop up and see you. What time does he have his morning nap?”

"Okay, Mark, usually about nine after he has had breakfast and a play.”

"Fine, Tasha, fine." He gave my side a squeeze, looked me up and down, his eyes lingering where my uniform hugged my bust, and then left. As he walked away I was pretty sure he was rubbing the front of his trousers. Odd man.

My day with Oliver was much the same: a few nappy changes, feeding, playing and napping, and then it was bedtime for me, sleeping naked as always with my uniform dress to hand in case Oliver woke.

Early in the morning I heard noises downstairs and assumed it was Marianne leaving for the airport, and then Oliver woke up. I threw my uniform dress on and went to sort him out. Clean nappy, clean clothes and then a rusk in his high chair whilst I went and got properly dressed. Yesterday’s bra was fine, but clean white knickers and then the same uniform as yesterday. I had managed, despite Oliver's best intentions, to keep it clean, so it would do for another day.

Back in with Oliver, he had his proper breakfast and then played for a while before getting sleepy. I cuddled him for a while and then put him in his cot; he was soon fast asleep. I sat in the nursery chair in case Oliver woke.

Mark popped his head into the nursery and beckoned me over.

“Let’s go to your room,” he said quietly. I followed him, and in my room he sat on my bed and patted the bed beside him. I sat there pretty sure of what was going to come next.

Mark turned to me and said, “You know that you are a very pretty girl, very sexy.”

I was going to say thank you, but his lips crushed mine as he kissed me, pushing me back into a lying position, his hand on my leg moving up. I could have protested, but I didn’t. I knew what he wanted and had known for a few days; I was just waiting for him to make his move. His hand reached my gusset and stroked my sex through my knickers; I eased my legs a little further apart. I wasn’t really kissing back; he was doing it all. His tongue was in my mouth, pushing my tongue around.

His fingers slipped past the hem of my knickers and touched me properly, easing a finger between the lips of my crease, down into my wetness, and stroked along my valley. I hadn’t objected in any way. He turned and kneeled between my legs, and using both hands he pushed my uniform up and pulled my knickers down, leant forward and licked me.

“Oh fuck,” I gasped. No one had ever done that to me; I had no idea how good it would feel on the few times I had imagined someone doing it. His tongue ran up and down my valley, briefly pressing into my opening and then back up to flick my nubbin. I was gasping, and I could feel pressures building, and my fanny felt as if it were full of electricity. I was holding my breath.

As he sucked my nubbin, flicking it with his tongue, I felt fingers at my entrance, and then they were pushing inside me, opening and stretching my fanny, a feeling I had not had for some time. My breath was caught somewhere in my throat, and I was gasping heavily. I heard him undo his zipper, and he pulled away and stood, pushing his trousers down.

“Get your uniform off and onto the bed, Tasha,” he said as he pulled his polo shirt off. I scrabbled back onto the bed, pulling off my uniform, lying there in just my bra. He covered me, his dick prodding my stomach. He pushed my bra up off my boobs and bent forward and nibbled at my nipples, his fingers stroking my nubbin. He reached down, held his dick and pushed it at my opening, and he flicked his hips, and he was inside me.

"Oof." I gasped as he filled my fanny, and then he started to shag, pushing in and easing out. I could feel his dick as it moved inside me, his skin rolling and bunching as he pushed in and then unrolling as he eased out. There was a sort of tick in his dick, a pulse perhaps, and I could feel it as it moved within me. This was such a strange sensation, him inside my body, moving within me, shagging me, only the second person ever.

He was going faster and harder, and I could feel his stomach slapping against mine, the sounds echoing around my bedroom, the pressure deep within me almost painful, yet pleasurable. He was lasting a lot longer than my first lover had. I don’t know what is normal; I have little experience in these matters.

Mark was getting more frenetic; he was really bouncing off me, his dick pressing deep inside me. I was feeling it within me; electrics seemed to be fizzing, and I felt as if I would explode. Mark thrust really hard inside me, almost painfully, and then he gurgled loudly, and I felt his spurts inside me, and as he was filling me, my body exploded. My first orgasm erupted through me, and I screamed all of my held-in air into his face, my fingers screwing tight into the mattress, my back lifting and tightening.

I collapsed back onto the mattress, gasping for air. My God, what was that? I had given myself a little pleasure with my finger on my nubbin, but I had never experienced that before. Mark rolled off me, his dick making a glug sound as it slipped from me, and I could feel his gloop dribbling from me and down into the crease of my bum.

He got up. "Gosh, you’re good,” he said.

“You are my first,” I lied.

"Fuck, girl, well, you have a lot to learn then; I look forward to teaching you.” And with that he left.

So, I guess we will be shagging whenever his wife is away then. Oh well. Good job I went on the pill after the first time someone shagged me.

I picked my uniform up and hung it up ready to wear later. It seemed Mark liked me in and out of my uniform.