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Felicia
Why does he have to be so damn hot?
Felicia stood in her opulent bedroom, one manicured hand clutching the fine drapery and the other pressed to the glass as she gazed down at Colin from the window. Her stepson was bent over, stretching for his run, ass firm beneath his sweats. From this angle, she could see how the material hugged his balls. Her pussy grew wet just imagining what it would be like to squeeze them. They wouldn’t feel anything like David’s. She just knew it. No, whereas her husband’s sagged in a most unattractive way, Colin would have taut, heavy balls. They would be a handful. She wouldn’t be able to fit them in her mouth all at once, but if she—
“Stop it,” she told herself in a shaky voice, turning from the window with a pained expression. Her inner conflict—the same exhausting battle she fought every day—was almost enough to bring her to tears. David didn’t deserve this. He wasn’t a bad husband. He didn’t abuse or neglect her. She wanted for nothing. Well, that was a lie, wasn’t it? She wanted her stepson Colin like she wanted her next breath. Like she needed her next breath. And didn’t that feel like its own betrayal.
Hugging herself, she walked over and sat in the oversized reading chair, tucking her legs under her. She’d married David, a sixty-five-year-old neurosurgeon, four years ago after he’d operated on her mother, removing a tumor and ultimately saving the woman’s life. Felicia had been indebted to him and readily agreed when he’d asked her to dinner. As her mother’s primary caregiver, Felicia had been thirty going on crazy cat lady, and he’d been rich, handsome, and kind. They’d had a whirlwind romance brimming with jewelry, luxurious hotels, and gourmet restaurants. She’d been powerless in the face of all that extravagance. Of being swept away from the normalcy of her normal life with its normal struggles. The wedding had been three months later.
And despite David being as charming as he’d ever been, Felicia craved Colin during her every waking moment. After accepting a residency at David’s hospital a few months ago, Colin had moved in with them to lessen his commute. With the incredible amount of hours he logged, the relocation made sense.
It also made her burn inside. Biting her lip, Felicia slid her hands between her legs and clamped them just to dull the ache.
Her stepson had taken over her every thought. He was so unlike his father. Colin was young and strong and had a wildness about him that called to her. His sparkling hazel eyes and sinful grin haunted her wherever she went. If they passed in the hall, her gaze always fell to his mouth, her tongue yearning for his. Her skin tingled when he was near, longing for his touch. And then there was his hair. It was too long for a doctor’s, and his strong fingers were always raking through the blond waves, giving him an unkempt look that drove her wild. She’d often imagined raking her own fingers through it while his head was between her legs, his tongue inside her, licking her pussy.
“Holy,” she moaned as the visual bloomed in her mind. Guilt flared, but she found herself spreading her legs. Maybe if she’d already been dressed, she could’ve resisted the urge to touch her swollen clit, but it was early, and she still wore just her favorite old sweater over her bra and panties. As she pulled the panties aside with trembling fingers, exposing her wet pussy to the lavish room, she tried to convince herself she wasn’t about to masturbate to the sexual fantasy of Colin. He was only two years younger than her, but that wasn’t the point. He wasn’t David. He wasn’t her husband. What he was was off limits. Untouchable. Forbidden.
It didn’t stop her, however, from closing her eyes and touching herself. Biting her lip, Felicia slid two fingers down over her clit and through her folds, massaging in an achingly slow circle. When her fingertips dipped lower, and she felt how wet she was already, her mouth parted, a soft whimper escaping. Oh, how she wished it was the head of Colin’s cock rubbing her instead. Just the idea made her breath hitch. It would slip over her delicate skin, teasing and testing her slit before sliding in, slow and deep. He would be so big . . . so thick, stretching her like she’d never been stretched before. She would cry out and spread her legs wider for him. She’d take all of him. Every last inch. She knew he wouldn’t just make love to her like David did. No, Colin would fuck her like he meant it. It would be hard and hot and wet. And she would scream so damn loud when she came.
Letting out a moan, Felicia jiggled her clit, hips rising off the chair in search of a cock that wasn’t there. Unable to resist her pussy’s ache to be filled, she slid her middle finger inside it. It went in slick and easy, and she jerked from the invasion, the muscles in her abdomen quivering. She gave herself a few quick pumps and then slowed it down. Licking her lips, she added a second finger. The fullness was delicious, and she couldn’t stop her small, soft cries each time she worked her fingers in and out.