Jacob
If the road to hell is paved with good intentions, where does the one with pot holes of bad ideas end up?
Wherever that is, I’m there. With a hard cock, a beautiful woman lying naked under me, the taste of her pussy in my mouth, and I’m not allowed to fuck her.
Society says I can’t.
She says I can’t.
Even the voice in the back of my head says I can’t.
The universe has played some cruel jokes on me before. This one might be the fucking worst.
I played it on myself.
The idea to make Penelope sleep in my bed came to me at work today. My intentions were mostly pure.
She would be warm and comfortable, and I could use my couch again. On the less than pure side, it also served my goal to keep her mentally uneasy while she’s here.
Did I suspect it was a bad idea? Absolutely. My reaction to her touch as she shaved me this morning was a sign. Watching her shower tonight convinced me I was headed for trouble if I didn’t abort the plan.
Her wet skin, her pink cheeks, and her shyness as she hid her gorgeous body from me. Penelope’s vulnerability was more enticing than the scent of freshly baked bread on a hungry stomach, and I was ravenous.
I was scraping at the bottom of my well of willpower not to grab her. Why the fuck did I think I could still invite her into my bed and temptation wouldn’t follow?
My god, I’ve been blessed.
She’s a stunning prize on my bed with silken tawny skin, soft fullness everywhere, her hair spread out beneath her head.
“Just as I thought, you look fucking incredible wearing only the collar, sweetheart.”
A shy look crosses her face and I want her more than my next breath.
It would be so easy to have her too.
My clothes are the only barrier between us and I’m already between her spread legs. Her glistening pussy is practically begging me to take it. Make it mine.
Don’t fucking do it.
She’s off-limits.
I ease my pants and underwear down my hips. It’s pure relief when my erection springs free. Penelope visibly stiffens, her wide eyes becoming rounder and her lips falling open. She lifts herself onto her elbows and scoots backward.
“Jacob… we can’t—”
I grab under her soft thighs and yank her back to me. I hold out my hand.
“Spit in my hand.”
She darts a glance between my face and my hand, confusion then suspicion crossing her face.
I distrust her.
She distrusts me.
We make quite a pair, don’t we?
She finally tilts forward and spits in my hand. I groan when I smear her warm saliva along my length.
I’m hard as fuck in my palm. The wet sound of my stroking fills the quiet. I wish it was her mouth covering my cock in her spit instead of my hand.
Her dumbfounded stare makes me throb in my grasp. Fuck. Why do the simplest things about her turn me on?
“Were you still thinking about your professor when you came?”
I slide my free hand along her right thigh, relishing her softness against my fingers. She tenses under my touch.
“Yes.”
My caress on her thigh becomes a squeeze.
“Still a dirty fucking liar, huh?”
Penelope averts her gaze and the guilt on her face makes me smile. I bend over her and it takes everything in me not to guide myself just a few inches lower and slide into her.
I know we can’t fuck you, but I really want to.
It’s bad enough I already crossed a pretty big line tonight. I can’t take a flying leap over the largest one when terrible consequences await me on the other side.
She splays her hands on my chest and tries to push me back. Her forehead could’ve been a scrolling marquee because I read her panicked thoughts clearly.
“Get off of me! I should’ve known you would take this too far!”
I tut then smile. “You think so little of me when all I’m thinking about is my mouth on your tits…”
My gaze dips to her breasts. They’re round and heavy, and my mouth waters with need to taste those rosy peaks. Flick them with my tongue. Make her cry out when I bite them. It was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen when she sucked them. I almost came in my pants.
“…and my face between your legs…”
I lick my lips, savouring the faint taste of her still lingering in my mouth. I tug myself faster as my mind goes back in time to a few minutes ago. Right after sucking her fingers, I would’ve stuck my tongue inside her pussy and enjoy her sweetness straight from the source.
In my mind, she’s squirming as I lick her like my life depends on it. Her hands are in my hair, gasps and moans falling from her lips as she comes in my mouth. I would be on top of her in seconds.
“I’m imagining I’m pushing my cock into you now… your sweet little pussy is squeezing me tight… fuck… you’re moaning my name… begging me to go deeper…”
Penelope’s resistance fades. Her eyes are glassy and her lips are slightly parted. She curls her fingers into my shirt and her touch, her scent, and her presence right under me makes the scene in my head almost real.
We could make it real.
My grip around my cock is firmer than the one on my self-control.
We can’t. I can’t.
I close my eyes, my body shaking from the struggle not to give in to what I really want. My release builds and I’m swelling in my grasp, barely able to hold myself up so I don’t crush Penelope.
In reality, I’m pumping my hand faster. In my head, I’m a sick fuck, pounding my ex-stepdaughter into my bed, her tight, wet pussy pulling me closer to the edge until I fall right over.
“Oh… fuck…”
As I imagine how incredible it would feel to come inside Penelope, I angle myself and come on her stomach.
She gasps and jerks from the contact. I groan and shudder, my knuckles grazing her skin as I squeeze my cum out until I’m spent.
We’re breathing hard in the following silence. I’m mesmerized by her breasts heaving and my pooled cum jiggling on her stomach from her quick breaths. A primal part of me feels triumphant that I marked my territory.
My collar around her neck.
My cum on her skin.
She’s all mine.
My sweet Penny.
When I lower my head to her sternum, Penelope moves her hands from my chest, allowing me to press a kiss just below the valley of her breasts.
She places her hand at the side of my head as I inhale her. She smells like fruit and flowers but it’s her own natural scent underneath that makes me crave a taste. I lick her skin.
She curls her fingers into my hair, and her soft moan is the sweetest, sexiest sound. I lift my gaze to hers and she snares it.
I’ll never forget this moment.
It would be nice if we could stay just like this. If we could have more like—
I jerk away from her and scramble off the bed. Anger lights inside me.
What the hell was that?
Fucking ridiculous.
After I yank up my pants, I grab the box of disposable tissues from my bedside table and toss it onto the bed.
Penelope’s stare follows me even though I avoid it. She really is a demon. Or a goddamn witch. Looking into her eyes puts me under her wicked spell.
Under her control.
I escape to the bathroom to splash my face with icy cold water. Then I stare into the mirror.
The man staring back at me isn’t angry anymore.
He looks afraid.
* * *
I struggle to fall asleep and so does Penelope.
She probably thinks I’ll take advantage of her the second she lets her guard down. I don’t fault her for it. I don’t trust myself either, even though I’m exhausted.
Her warmth reaches for me, her nearness another round of temptation. I never took stock of the size of my bed until now. There’s only a few inches of space between me and a woman I want.
The minutes drag on in silence and unnatural stillness. A wild animal howls in the distance and the wind occasionally rattles the windows.
Penelope and I are playing “Red Light, Green Light,” and the fucker who’s supposed to call out “green light” abandoned the game, leaving us frozen in place.
My eyes drift shut at some point. When I open them next, early morning light pours in through the windows and Penelope is asleep beside me.
She faces me, one arm under her pillow, the other clutching the sheet to her chest like a shield. Against me. An early detection system for if I try to pull the sheet away from her body while she’s sleeping.
I turn my stare to the ceiling.
Fuck me.
There are blunders, there are mistakes, then there is the mess I made last night.
On Penelope’s stomach.
I’m starting to think I might be in over my head. I don’t have as much control over this situation as I thought. Penelope is rubber and I’m glue. Everything I do to punish her punishes me too.
When my parents were alive, my dad used to be a doctor, my mom the founder of a successful company. I was the firstborn son of a wealthy power couple, raised with everything I wanted within reach. Of course I turned out to be an asshole.
Still, I try to be decent. Abide by the generally accepted moral values of society, even if I skirt a few rules now and then.
Where’s that fucking decency now?
I’ve become someone I never imagined I could be: a depraved bastard ready and willing to fuck a woman who was once like a daughter to me. A woman who’s too young for me.
A woman who once falsely accused me of rape.
I don’t even want to drive past a prison let alone risk a stint inside one after my close call years ago. Yet I allowed myself to get carried away last night. Thankfully, fear of history repeating itself stopped me.
Lies planted in some truth are the ones that flourish. Alyssa used that to her advantage.
It’s not hard for consensual rough sex to appear non-consensual during a medical examination. I also foolishly assumed she was enjoying herself when she scratched me, only to learn she was collecting my DNA under her fingernails to use as additional “proof” I violated her.
Despite her protests, Penelope would’ve let me go all the way last night. I saw it in her eyes when I sucked her fingers.
She wanted me too.
If I’d given in, there was a chance Penelope would’ve used her mother’s tactics. I would be the fool who fell for the same trick twice.
Stop comparing me to my mother. I’m nothing like her.
After spending time with her, it seems like she’s telling the truth, and that’s scarier to accept.