Her voice is a warm, honeyed purr, and in the pale light filtering through the curtains I can just make out to her long, wild curls.
“Baby,” I respond, grateful and relieved.
She giggles and climbs onto the bed, straddling me in the darkness, and I reach for her legs, finding the firm, muscled flesh of bare thighs and running my hands up towards her hips. She feels good. The heat and pressure of her body against mine makes my cock thicken.
“Mm,” she murmurs, rolling her hips against me and trailing her fingers down my arms. Her forwardness surprises me. Hazel’s usually a bit more shy, but I like it. After the stress of the evening, I need her touch, need her closeness.
“Sweetheart,” I groan, squeezing my eyes closed and lifting my hips up against her. The pressure of her body, and the friction of the covers as they slide against the underside of my hard cock makes me shiver. I slide my fingers further up her thigh, underneath flimsy fabric, until I’m cupping her bare ass. I dig my fingers into the firm, juicy ripeness of it, remembering the feel of it under my hand when I spanked her, the way it quivered and contracted when she came against my fingers.
It’s seemed important that I never fuck Hazel, that there be at least some line somewhere-one boundary that I would not cross. But feeling her against me now, the last thread of my resolve starts to slip away. What difference does it make at this point anyway? We’ve already gone way, way too far.
I tug at the covers, trying to pull away the barrier between us and making her laugh. I don’t necessarily have sex in mind-maybe not tonight, with her mother in the house-but I need to feel her against me. She lifts her hips and helps kick the covers away and then wraps expert hands around the base of my cock. With a sure touch, she runs both hands up the shaft, making my hard cock throb with urgency.
“Yes,” I breathe. “Fuck. Put your mouth on it, sweetheart.”
She chuckles. “I missed this cock.” Warmth radiates out from her hot mouth as it encircles me. She circles her tongue around my shaft, just how I like it, and I moan involuntarily, even as a strange awareness starts to twig in the back of my mind.
But it’s hard to focus on the nagging uncertainty I feel as she sucks me. She knows exactly what I like and she’s getting me so close so fast. I reach down for her hair, entwining it through my fingers, and I’m surprised to find that it’s crunchy and dry, like there’s hairspray in it.
“I see you missed me, too,” comes a low, sexy murmur, and finally the information my subconscious has registered comes blasting through to full awareness.
“Fuck!” I choke out, sitting up and pushing her off of me. “Melanie.”
She laughs, a derisive snort, and with a panicked disorientation I wonder how I could have ever thought it was Hazel. “Did you think it was someone else?”
“No, I… I was asleep and confused. What the fuck, Melanie?”
“Xavi, c’mon.” She reaches out to stroke my arm and I wrench it away from her. I don’t want any part of this woman to touch me. To think that she just had her lips wrapped around my cock…that I almost came in her mouth. I’m disgusted by her touch. Suddenly my wife’s touch seems more off limits than her daughter’s. “What’s wrong, honey?” she laughs. “A minute ago you didn’t seem to mind so much.”
Appalled, I yank the covers back over me, covering my erection, and turn on the lamp. “Get out of here, Melanie.”
“I can’t sleep.” She stands up, tousling the roots of her hair with both hands, making the curls bigger and wilder. She’s wearing little sleep shorts and a tank top, the strap of which is falling off one shoulder, and I have to admit she looks positively luscious. It would be so easy, I think for only half a second.
She’s a grown woman-my wife, for Christ’s sake-and the only person in this house I actually could have sex with. But I don’t want to. I don’t want any part of Melanie. Not now and not ever.
She turns and leans against the dresser, crossing long legs that are so like her daughter’s. “That was our bed,” she says curiously, looking at the mattress like she’s just noticed it. “You still sleep on your side.”
It’s true, I never started sleeping the middle of the bed even though I’ve been sleeping alone for almost a year. “Old habits,” I shrug.
“I’ve missed sleeping beside you.”
“Don’t, Melanie.”
“Why not? Is there someone else? Someone else you wouldn’t be surprised to have touching you in the night?”