My wife, Amanda, and I are both working professionals with two young
children. The daily grind of getting the kids up and off to the baby
sitters, and getting us off to work was getting too stressful, so last
year we decided to bite the bullet and try a live-in caregiver, at
least until our older child was in school. We thought about it for
quite a while, since we were not sure how we felt about having someone
live in the house with us, and we weren't sure about the cost. Having
a room mate is always an adjustment, with perpetual questions about
chores, weird habits, etc. That just gets even more complicated when a
married couple has someone live with them.

To further complicate matters, Amanda and I always sleep nude, and often
walk around the house nude, or semi-nude. We aren't really nudists,
but we certainly don't mind being nude in our own house. I guess you
might call us closet nudists. This would have to be an adjustment as
well, if we had someone live with us. Since we sleep with our door
open so that we can hear the kids if they wake up at night, having a
live-in caregiver would even mean having to wear clothes to bed.
Yuck!! And what about sex? If the kids ever heard us having sex they
would never know what the noise was anyway, but another adult just down
the hall certainly would.

We weighed all the pros and cons, and decided to give it a try. After
some searching we found a caregiver, Helene. She was 23, from France,
and quite attractive with a nice figure, including quite large breasts.
Despite the language barrier the kids took an instant liking to her, so
we figured everything would go well. When Helene moved in Amanda and I
talked more about the nudity thing, and decided that we had better wear
clothes to bed. At that point she was certainly a bit jealous about
having this young, good looking woman in our house.

The sleeping with clothes on bit went okay, and we did have sex,
although less frequently than normal, and more restrained, so as to be
more quiet. We don't know if Helene ever heard us or not. But when
the weather started to warm up, wearing clothes to bed became a
problem. With our room getting hotter and hotter at night, and no air
conditioning, I could not stand wearing clothes to bed anymore, and
frankly, neither could Amanda. So we started sleeping in the nude
again. And besides, we agreed, Helene always went to bed before us,
got up after us, and never got up during the night. So the risk of her
seeing either of us, or in particular me, nude, was pretty slim.

A couple of nights later, after a particularly hot day, our youngest son
was more restless than normal during the night. Like the rest of the
house, his room was pretty hot, and he was having trouble sleeping, and
woke several times. Bleary eyed, I went to his room, nude, for the
fourth time that night, when, just as I was approaching Helene's
bedroom, her door opened, and out she came, wearing only a long tank
top. I guess our son was not the only one having trouble sleeping.
She looked right at me. What could I do? I was caught. So, as
naturally as possible, I continued on my way to our son's room,
brushing past her in the hallway as I went. No matter which way I had
gone, she would have been able to have a good look if she had wanted.
So I went and got our son settled down, and she went back to bed. I
doubted that Amanda heard our little encounter, and nothing was said
about it, so I decided that I would continue sleeping in the nude.

I am always the first person up in the morning, and every morning I
bring coffee to Amanda and Helene. This morning ritual always treats
me with the sight of Amanda, naked, in bed; a sight that still turns me
on after almost 10 years of marriage. It also treated me to a few
glimpses of Helene's cleavage and legs, and once even a tiny bit of
nipple. But she always slept clothed, so it was never more than that,
at least, not until after our midnight encounter. A couple of mornings
after our encounter, I brought her coffee, and, while she was covered
with a sheet, it was obvious that she was naked underneath. The next
morning was the same thing, except that one of her breasts was exposed.
I paused to savor the sight before placing the coffee on her night
stand.

As I walked o