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“How are you feeling?” I ask, petting her cheek with my thumb.
“Hmm, amazing.” Penelope yawns and closes her eyes.
I run my nose over hers, and she giggles, making her whole body shake. She makes me smile. But I’m also aware that I need to pull out before there’s an accident. I slowly draw out of her sweet warmth and discard the condom. Immediately after, I tuck Penelope into the sheet and curl behind her, holding her close to me.
I caress her soft stomach as we slowly fall asleep. She’s the first asleep, her breath coming in evenly.
Thoughts of this situation fill my mind.
Penelope dated my son. Cameron cheated on Penelope. She came here to piss off Cameron, and I’m the bastard that helped her do it. I wanted her too much. When she came to my office, I wanted to say yes, so I had to send her home. The moment she said, ‘fuck me,’ I wanted to pull her against me and ravage her on my desk.
But the rational part of me stepped in and told her to wait.
I should never have touched her. But now that I have, I’m not letting her go—difficulties be damned.
Thoughts of Cameron come into my mind, and I consider his feelings in all this. On the one hand, he lost her by being irresponsible. On the other hand, it’ll be awkward as hell between us.
I sigh.
It’s already uncomfortable between him and me. After the divorce, Cameron spent most of his time with his mom. That was the beginning of our relationship falling apart. I worked more often, and Cameron focused on school and sports. He came around a few times, mainly to borrow my car. It would be great to have a more stable relationship. If we did, I might not be so afraid of this development ruining our relationship.
I might’ve taught him how he should treat women if we did. The first lesson is: don’t fucking cheat on them.
But it’s over now. I know I should talk about this with him soon. But as Penelope curls deeper into the sheets and wiggles her butt into my crotch, it gets harder for me to think about it.
A possessive growl rumbles through my chest, telling me she’s mine. Regardless of what happens, this will remain true.
Penelope is my woman now.
The following day, I pull on a clean T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants after a hot shower. When I turn, I see Penelope staring at my pants the way she looks at my cock. Her same erotic stare is so captivating.
“They’re just pants,” I say, a little confused as to why a pair of pants can be as arousing for her as my dick.
She chuckles. “Trust me. They are not just pants.” Penelope snickers and bites the blanket.
I look down at myself and realize the pants do a pretty good job outlining my cock. Even when soft, the material shows off what I got. Well, this answers so many questions about why women stare at me when I go out for a run in these pants.
I chuckle and approach her. As I get close, she leans over and cups my hardening cock, rubbing it through the cotton. I should be getting breakfast ready, but I want to feel her mouth wrapped around me.
I lean down and capture her mouth with mine. Giving her a passionate and deep kiss before pulling away and heading to the kitchen. I hear her whine as I leave and chuckle.
I pull out the eggs from the refrigerator as well as bread, butter, and orange juice. I take a couple of tomatoes from the counter and cut them up as the pan heats up on the stove.
When I crack the eggs, and the sounds of sizzles fill the room, Penelope comes in wearing my T-shirt.
“Fuck, you look amazing in my T-shirt.” I groan, and Penelope grins.
“Thanks,” she spins around, then sits on the stool opposite the counter.
“So, what do you want to do today?”
“Well,” Penelope says, smiling demurely, “I was thinking that maybe we just stay here and have more sex if that’s okay with you.”
“That’s perfectly okay with me,” I say and lean over, giving her a kiss on the nose.
After breakfast, I place her on the dining table and kiss her. She tastes like orange juice.
So fucking sweet.
