Alexa looked outside the car as the landscape changed from the city to the suburbs. Signs of new townhomes available for sale were everywhere. Traffic had increased on Route 7 and had brought the car to a complete halt. D.C. was not the same anymore, as the suburbs had grown and become more populated over the years. However, this was still a big change for Alexa, who came from a small town in Ohio.
For maybe the umpteenth time, Alexa looked at the mirror on the visor and nervously pursed her lips, feeling her lipstick. She turned her head to look at her boyfriend of six months, Alex. She looked at him with a sigh. He was tall and handsome, had a mop of brown hair, and wore geeky clothes. All her friends said he was a catch, and watching him drive, she had to agree.
Meeting his parents was not on her cards. They had met just six months earlier at a tech event. She had started in HR at an event coordination company. She had met Alex over drinks during that event. He was a software engineer at a European automotive company with American headquarters in Arlington. They hit it off, and before she knew it, she had moved into his apartment in Georgetown. He was a local boy but preferred to stay in the city. She loved him and absolutely loved the sex. It was the longest relationship she had ever had.
When he asked her to come with him for dinner, she was taken aback. Was this something serious? The closer they came to the night of dinner, the more nervous she became. She didn’t want to blow it.
“They’re going to love you,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Especially my mom. You two are gonna get along fine. She’s a sweet old thing.” Alexa pictured his mom as an old, matronly woman—slightly plump, wearing a kitchen apron, a baking lady with greying hair, and doting on her son.
“Ready?” Alex asked as they parked the car in the driveway of a two-story colonial with a large lawn in front at the end of a cul-de-sac.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied, smiling back at him nervously and walking with him, nervously holding the cake they had picked up at Whole Foods.
The door swung open before Alex could press the doorbell.
Jennifer.
She was not like Alexa had pictured. Jennifer was sharp. Elegant. She was tall and slender with a fit body that cried yoga. She was wearing a silk blouse and fitted trousers. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a pony, and she was literally radiating. She smiled at them brilliantly and embraced her son. “Alex!”
She then looked at Aexa, and for a second her smile faltered, but she soon recovered. “And you must be Alexa! Welcome, welcome. Alex, could you please get her coat? And take that cake off her hands. You really didn’t have to do it.”
“It’s so lovely to meet you, Mrs. Walker,” Alexa said, still stunned by how lovely her boyfriend’s mother looked. She also couldn’t place the warm feeling she was feeling between her legs.
“Please, call me Jen. Mrs. Walker makes me feel ancient,” Jen said, her smile never wavering as she took Alexa’s hand. Her grip was firm; her skin felt warm and electric. She held her hand a beat longer than necessary, her thumb brushing almost imperceptibly over her knuckles. “My goodness, Alex, you didn’t tell me she was so beautiful.”
Alex laughed, putting Alexa’s and his jackets in the coat closet. “I know, Mom. I have great taste.”
“Oh, pssh. I don’t see what she sees in this dork of a son of mine. But you’re right about taste. She does look delectable.” Jen said, winking at Alexa, causing a shiver to run down the young woman’s spine.
She led them inside to where Alex’s father, Chris, was watching a game on TV. He was a kind-faced man with a comfortable paunch and a genuine smile. Alexa could see he looked like an older version of Alex. He shook Alexa’s hand warmly. “Nice to meet you, Alexa. Alex has told us all about you. And you look as lovely as Alex said.”
They headed to the dining table, where Jen had laid out the table. Dinner was a time to get to know Alexa better.
“Yes, we don’t have an Amazon Alexa. But I heard you can change her name.”
“Alex and Alexa have a ring to it. A lot of friends make fun of us.”
“My father died some years ago. My mother lives with my brother and his family in Ohio.”
“Yes, I love D.C.”
The dinner was a flurry of conversation over food, some of which was catered, such as chicken rotisserie, and some homemade, including beef stew, roasted vegetables, and Italian bread with cheese. Alexa found herself relaxing, charmed by Alex’s parents. Chris was funny and self-deprecating, but it was Jennifer who held her attention. She asked Alexa thoughtful questions about her work in HR, her family, and her opinions on books and films, her gaze never wavering. It felt less like an interrogation and more like genuine, fascinated interest.
Every time Alexa glanced her way, she’d already be looking at her, that small, knowing smile playing on her lips. Alexa felt thrilled.
Once, when Alexa reached for the salt, her hand brushed against Jennifer’s, who had also reached out. A jolt, sharp and electric, passed between them. Alexa snatched her hand back, her cheeks flushing. Jennifer simply looked at her, and when their eyes met, she smiled—a slow, knowing smile.
“You look lovely, Alexa,” Jennifer remarked softly, leaning in so Alexa could smell her. “Absolutely ravishing.”
“Uh, thank you,” Alexa stammered. She felt flustered, hyper-aware of the woman across from her.
Later, as they were saying their goodbyes in the foyer, Jennifer took both of Alexa’s hands in her own. Her skin was warm and soft.
“It was truly a delight,” Jennifer said, her thumbs stroking the backs of Alexa’s hands in a slow, deliberate motion that felt far more intimate than a standard farewell. “We must do this again soon. Just us girls, maybe. Lunch?”
“That would be lovely,” Alexa said, her voice slightly breathless.
Jennifer leaned in and kissed her cheek. Alexa could smell her again, and her lips lingered for a fraction of a second too long. “Goodnight, my dear.”
In the car, Alex was giddy. “Told you! They adored you. Especially Mom. She’s such a putty.”
“Yeah,” Alexa said, staring out the window, her cheek still tingling. “She was… very nice.”
—————–
They reached their apartment, a cozy one-bedroom in Georgetown that felt suddenly small and ordinary. Alex flicked on the lights, tossed his keys into a ceramic bowl, and turned to her with a contented sigh. “Great night.”
“It was,” Alexa agreed, slipping off her heels. She suddenly turned to him impulsively and pressed against him. She leaned up and kissed him with her tongue, searching his mouth. Her mind kept replaying Jennifer’s smile, her poise, her intense gaze, and her perfume. She searched for familiarity with Alex, trying to forget Jen—his taste, his feel, and his unique smell.
Alex kissed her back, and when they parted, he looked at her with an inquiring smile. “Hey there,” he murmured, surprised but pleased, his arms circling her waist. “What’s this for?”
“Just happy. And just thinking,” she whispered. She tilted her head up and kissed him again, not their usual soft, loving kiss, but something more insistent, more urgent.
“Well, hello,” Alex said, his voice rough with sudden desire. “I’m definitely not complaining. But what are you thinking?”
“Thinking we need to take this to the bedroom right now,” she said, turning around and walking towards the bedroom, and discarding her clothes along the way. Alex followed her, removing his shirt and unbuckling his pants, his cock straining his boxers. By the time he had discarded his briefs, Alexa was naked on the bed with her knees bent and legs spread—her pussy inviting him towards it.
Alex, as per their routine, had kneeled next to her and was going to push his cock in when Alexa stopped him. “Wait,” she breathed, her eyes locked on his. She held his head and gently pushed it down, indicating to Alex what she wanted. When Alex’s face was in front of her pussy, she articulated her need, “I want your mouth first. Eat me, Alex. Please.”
A slow, delighted grin spread across Alex’s face. “Hell, yes.” Then he parted her legs. “Jesus, Alexa, you’re soaked. Wetter than I’ve ever seen you.” He looked up, eyes wide with lust. “What got you this worked up? Again, not complaining.”
She didn’t answer, just arched her hips toward him, her mind already drifting. As he finally lowered his head between her legs, Alexa’s eyes fluttered shut. And the moment his tongue made contact with the folds of her pussy, she saw Jennifer. Shocked, she opened her eyes to see the familiar mop of Alex’s hair, but as soon as she closed her eyes again, she saw Jen. This time, she gave in and did not fight.
It wasn’t Alex’s broad, gentle strokes she felt on her pussy. In her mind, the tongue was more precise, more expert. The hair brushing her inner thigh was long and blonde, not his dark brown curls. The perfume that filled her senses was no longer his aftershave but an intoxicating blend of jasmine and sandalwood.
“She does look delectable…” Jen’s voice whispered in her memory.
Alex was struggling, trying to scoop up as much of the additional amount released by Alexa as possible. His enthusiasm was evident. “Jesus, Alexa, you’re so wet,” he whispered, his words muffled against her skin. “You’re dripping. Did dinner with my parents turn you on so much?”
Yes, she thought, but again did not answer. She imagined Jen whispering filthy things—”Come for me, darling, let me taste how wet you are for me”—and her hips bucked harder, grinding against Alex’s face.
“Oh, God,” Alexa moaned, her hips lifting off the bed, seeking more pressure, a different pressure. She tangled her hands in Alex’s hair as Alex groaned in response, thinking it was for him, his tongue working faster, slurping at her juices like he couldn’t get enough.
The orgasm that built up in her was different. It wasn’t the warm climax Alex usually gave her. This was distinct and felt more illicit, more taboo. It crashed over her with a violence that made her cry out, her body lifting off the bed, her thighs clamping around Alex’s head in a vise-like grip.
He lapped at her through the tremors, groaning at having pleased her so well, and thinking it was he who had caused her to come so hard. When she finally stopped, he rose, kissing her stomach, her breasts, and her mouth, sharing her taste with her. His cock was rock hard, ready to fuck her.
But Alexa’s mind was a million miles away, or more precisely, thirty-five odd miles away. She had just come harder than she ever had in her life, thinking of his mother. She felt ashamed, and as Alex inserted his cock into her pussy, she wanted to fuck him to wash away that guilt.
*
Across town, in the master suite of the silent, dark house, Jennifer lay stiffly beside her snoring husband. The cool, clean lines of the room felt like a cage. The memory of Alexa’s flushed cheeks, her shy smile, the way her dress had hugged her figure, played on a relentless loop behind her eyes.
Carefully, so as not to disturb Chris, she slid out of bed. The polished wood floor was cool under her bare feet. She didn’t go to her own closet this time. Instead, she moved with a ghost’s silence down the hall to Alex’s old bedroom. It was a museum of his youth, frozen in time. It felt safer here, farther from her marital bed.
She closed the door softly and went to the desk. In the bottom drawer, under old high school textbooks, was the same locked wooden box. Her hands, steadier now with purpose, retrieved the key from her robe pocket.
The Polaroid felt fragile, sacred. She sat on the edge of the single bed, the comforter stiff with disuse, and stared at the image under the faint moonlight filtering through the blinds. There they were. Her and Rachel. Young, beautiful, fearless. Rachel’s dark eyes sparkled with intelligence and a hint of mischief, her smile confident and inviting. Her features, the arch of her brows, the shape of her lips… the resemblance to the girl she’d just had dinner with was uncanny. It was more than a passing similarity; it was an echo of the same spirit, the same captivating essence she had been too terrified to embrace a lifetime ago.
A deep, aching throb pulsed between her legs, a physical pain of regret and reawakened desire. She needed release. She needed to touch the ghost.
From the pocket of her silk robe, she retrieved the sleek, black vibrator. She didn’t lie back. She remained seated on the edge of her son’s bed, staring at the photograph of her lost lover. She pushed her robe open, baring herself to the cool, still air of the room.
She flicked the vibrator on, its low hum absurdly loud in the profound silence. She pressed the buzzing head against her clit, her eyes screwed shut. Immediately, her body jolted. In her mind, it was twenty-five years ago. It was Rachel’s fingers. Rachel’s mouth.
“Let’s just be us. Forever.”
She gasped, her hips rocking against the toy. She could almost smell Rachel’s shampoo, feel the rough cotton of her dorm room sheets. The fantasy was potent, a time machine of sensation.
But then, the image began to blur. The dark hair in her mind lightened to a soft brown. The confident, knowing smile softened into something shyer, more tentative. The remembered feel of an athletic body shifted, became softer, curvier under her imaginary hands.
The name that was on her lips, the one she was about to cry out, wasn’t Rachel’s.
Her eyes flew open, staring down at the photograph. But she no longer saw Rachel. She saw Alexa. Alexa smiling back at her from the past. Alexa, who was here, now, real and touchable.
The fantasy didn’t dissolve; it crystallized, sharper and more horrifically erotic than ever. She wasn’t masturbating to a memory anymore. She was masturbating to her son’s girlfriend, imagining that young, innocent body sprawled across this very bed, those lips parting in a moan for her.
“Oh, fuck,” she hissed, the vibration intensifying. Her free hand groped at her own breast, pinching a nipple sharply, imagining it was Alexa’s mouth. “Yes… yes, just like that…”
She was no longer thinking of what was lost. She was consumed by what she could have. The shame was there, a faint echo, but it was drowned out by a roaring, possessive need. She pictured teaching Alexa, corrupting that innocence, being the one to unlock that desire.
“Alexa,” she moaned, the name ripped from her throat, a confession and a claim. “Alexa… my beautiful girl… come for me… let me feel you…”
Her orgasm was a silent scream, a violent, full-body seizure that left her shuddering and gasping for air, her knuckles white where she gripped the vibrator. She slumped forward, forehead touching the cool Polaroid still clutched in her other hand.
As the waves of pleasure receded, they left behind not satiation, but a terrifying, crystal-clear certainty. The fantasy wasn’t enough. The memory was a poor substitute.
She had to have her. Not a ghost, not a memory. She had to have Alexa. The desire wasn’t buried anymore. It was alive, it was hungry, and it had a name.
She sat in the dark of her son’s room, her breathing slowly returning to normal, a ruthless plan already beginning to form in her mind. The game had just begun.
—————————–
Upstairs, in her impeccable master suite, Jennifer closed the door softly. The house was quiet, and Chris was already snoring softly in his sleep. She walked to her walk-in closet, to a small, locked wooden box on a high shelf. Her hands trembled slightly as she fished the key from her jewelry tray.
Inside the box, nestled on a bed of velvet, was a faded Polaroid. Two young women, arms slung around each other, laughing into the camera. One was her, her hair long and sun-bleached, her face open and unguarded. The other was Rachel. Rachel, with her dark, intelligent eyes, her sharp cheekbones, and a smile that could light up a room. Rachel, who had been her everything for two glorious years at college. Rachel, who had held her in the dim light of their dorm room and whispered, “Let’s just be us. Forever. No one else.”
Jennifer had frozen. The word “forever” had felt like a cage door slamming shut. She’d pulled away, mumbled something about it being a phase, about her parents, about needing to be normal. She’d married dependable, sweet Chris a few years later and had never looked back. She’d packed that part of herself away in this box, along with the photograph.
But tonight, looking at Alexa… it was like seeing a ghost. Not in appearance, exactly—Alexa’s hair was a lighter brown, her frame softer than Rachel’s athletic build—but in her essence. The same thoughtful tilt of the head, the same way her eyes crinkled when she laughed, the same delicate, almost shy gestures with her hands. The attraction had been immediate and visceral, a deep, dormant pull she hadn’t felt in over two decades.
A low thrum of need began to pulse in her core. She put the photo away, locking the box and the memory back in the dark. She walked into her large, marble-lined bathroom and opened a drawer, pulling out a sleek, black vibrator. She leaned back against the cool counter, her linen trousers pooling around her ankles.
Her eyes slid shut, but she didn’t see Chris. She saw Alexa. She saw the flush on her cheeks, the slight part of her lips as she talked, the way her dress had hugged her small, perfect breasts.
“Oh, god,” Jennifer whispered into the silent, sterile air.
Her fingers worked the vibrator against her clit, the buzz a low, insistent hum. In her mind, it wasn’t the silicone toy, but Alexa’s mouth. Alexa’s tentative, inexperienced tongue. She imagined peeling that modest dress from Alexa’s shoulders, revealing creamy, untouched skin. She imagined the girl’s gasp as she touched her for the first time.
“Rachel,” she moaned, the name slipping out before she could stop it. But she quickly corrected herself, the fantasy sharpening, focusing. “Alexa… you beautiful girl… do you like that?”
Her hips bucked against her own hand. She pictured herself teaching Alexa, showing her the exquisite power of a woman’s touch. She imagined the filthy, desperate words she would whisper in her ear, corrupting that innocence, making it hers.
“Yes,” she hissed, her body tightening. “That’s it, darling. Come for me.”
The orgasm ripped through her, intense and shocking in its ferocity. She slumped against the counter, breathing heavily, a profound sense of shame and exhilaration warring within her. She was a married woman. A mother. Straight.
But as she cleaned up and slipped into bed beside her unknowing husband, one thought was crystal clear: she was going to have that girl.
*
The “girls’ lunch” happened two weeks later at a chic, sun-drenched bistro. Alexa, nervous, had chosen her outfit carefully—a floral wrap dress that felt both feminine and sophisticated.
Jennifer was already there, looking effortlessly glamorous in a black jumpsuit. She stood and air-kissed Alexa’s cheeks, her hand resting possessively on her lower back for a moment too long.
“You look stunning,” Jennifer said, her eyes doing a slow, appreciative sweep of Alexa’s body. “That color is perfect on you.”
“Thank you,” Alexa said, taking her seat, feeling strangely exposed under the woman’s gaze. “So do you.”
They ordered salads and white wine. The conversation flowed easily again, but the undercurrent was different without Alex and Chris as a buffer. Jennifer steered the talk toward more personal waters.
“Alex tells me you’ve never had a serious relationship before him,” Jennifer said, sipping her wine.
“No, not really. A few guys in college, but nothing that stuck.”
“Mm,” Jennifer hummed, her eyes twinkling. “And what about women?”
Alexa almost choked on her wine. “Women?”
“A simple question, darling.” Jennifer’s smile was playful, but her gaze was probing. “A beautiful young woman like you… You must have had offers. Or curiosities.”
Alexa felt a hot flush creep up her neck. “No. No, I haven’t. I mean, I’m not… I’ve never…”Never say never,” Jennifer murmured, reaching across the table to gently adjust the strap of Alexa’s dress where it had slipped from her shoulder. Her fingertips grazed Alexa’s bare skin, and another one of those electric shocks zinged through her. “Life is too short to limit your experiences. Don’t you think?”
Alexa could only nod, her mouth suddenly dry. The rest of the lunch was a haze of double entendres and lingering touches. Jennifer paid the bill despite Alexa’s protests, and as they walked out, she linked her arm through Alexa’s.
“You’re a very special young woman, Alexa,” she said softly. “There’s a… depth to you. A light. It’s very alluring.”
“Thank you, Jennifer. That’s so kind.”
“Please,” she said, stopping and turning Alexa to face her. “Call me Jen.”
Before Alexa could respond, Jen leaned in and kissed her again, this time on the corner of her mouth. It was so quick, so seemingly casual, that Alexa could almost believe she’d imagined the subtle pressure, the whisper-soft touch of lips.
“Talk soon, darling,” Jen said, releasing her and walking towards her car, leaving Alexa rooted to the spot, her heart hammering against her ribs.
The flirtation escalated over the next month. Jen found excuses to pop by their apartment when she knew Alex would be at work, always bringing a little gift—an expensive scented candle, a book of poetry, a silk scarf. Her compliments became more brazen.
“I can’t stop thinking about the way you laughed yesterday,” she’d say over the phone. “It’s such a delicious sound.”
Alexa was equal parts terrified and thrilled. She’d never considered being with a woman. The idea was a foreign country on a map she’d never thought to study. But Jen’s attention was addictive. It was sophisticated, intense, and made her feel seen in a way Alex’s steady, comfortable love never did. It felt dangerous. It felt alive.
The breaking point came at a family barbecue. Chris was manning the grill, Alex was fetching drinks, and Jen and Alexa were shucking corn on the back deck. Jen’s hand covered Alexa’s, showing her how to twist the husk.
“Like this, sweetheart. You have to be firm. decisive.” Her voice was a low murmur meant only for Alexa’s ears. Her body was pressed close from behind, her front to Alexa’s back. Alexa could feel the curve of Jen’s breasts against her shoulder blades, the heat of her through their thin summer clothes.
Alexa’s breath hitched. The world narrowed to the sensation of Jen’s hand guiding hers, the scent of her perfume mixing with the smell of fresh corn and charcoal.
“Jen,” she whispered, a plea and a warning all in one.
Jen’s lips were close to her ear. “I think about you, Alexa. All the time. The things I want to do to you.” Her voice dropped to a husky, filthy whisper. “The things I want you to do to me.”
She gently nipped Alexa’s earlobe, and a bolt of pure, undiluted lust shot straight to Alexa’s core. She gasped, dropping the corn. She was wet, aching, her body responding to Jen’s words with a ferocity that shocked her.
“Mom? Alexa? You guys okay?” Alex called from across the yard.
Jen pulled away instantly, her expression smoothing into a pleasant mask. “Just fine, honey! Alexa’s just a quick study, that’s all.”
That night, tossing and turning in bed next to a sleeping Alex, Alexa knew she was in deep, treacherous water. She was aroused and confused, her body humming with a want she didn’t understand. She finally understood what Jen had meant that first day. She was curious.
*
The culmination was inevitable. Alex was away for a weekend at a tech conference. Alexa was relishing a quiet Saturday alone when her phone buzzed.
It’s Jen. Alex told me you’re on your own. I’m nearby. Can I pop in? I have a bottle of wine that’s begging to be opened.
Alexa’s heart leaped into her throat. She knew what this was. This was the point of no return. Her fingers trembled as she typed back. Sure. Come over.
Twenty minutes later, Jen was at the door. She wasn’t in her usual chic casualwear. She wore a simple, tight black dress that ended mid-thigh and sky-high heels. She held up a bottle of expensive-looking Pinot Noir.
“Rescue mission,” she said with a smile that was all predator.
They sat on the couch, drinking wine, the conversation superficial. The tension was a physical thing in the room, thick and smothering. Alexa could feel Jen’s eyes on her, tracing the line of her neck, the shape of her lips.
Finally, Jen put her glass down. She turned on the couch, tucking one leg beneath her, facing Alexa fully.
“We need to talk about what’s happening between us, Alexa.”
“I… I don’t know what you mean,” Alexa whispered, her wine glass shaking in her hand.
“Don’t you?” Jen leaned forward, her pale eyes blazing with intensity. She took the glass from Alexa’s unsteady hand and placed it on the table. “I see the way you look at me. I felt you tremble when I touched you. This attraction… it isn’t one-sided.”
She reached out and cupped Alexa’s cheek. Her touch was electric.
“I was like you once,” Jen continued, her thumb stroking Alexa’s skin. “I met someone. A woman. Her name was Rachel. She was beautiful and brilliant, and she made me feel things I didn’t know I could feel. But I was scared. I was a coward. I chose the safe, easy path. I married Chris, and I’ve been a good, faithful, straight wife for twenty-five years.”
Her voice cracked with a raw emotion Alexa had never heard from her before. Pain. Regret.
“But then you walked into my house,” Jen whispered, her face inches from Alexa’s now. “And you brought it all back. That hunger. That need. You remind me of her, but you’re not her. You’re you. And I want you, Alexa. I want to taste you. I want to feel you come apart in my hands. I want to do all the filthy, forbidden things I was too afraid to do with her.”
Her confession hung in the air, shocking and unbearably erotic. Alexa was paralyzed, captivated. Jen’s desire was a tidal wave, and she was about to be swept away.
“Have you ever thought about it?” Jen breathed, her lips so close they almost brushed Alexa’s. “Being with a woman? Letting me show you?”
And in that moment, all of Alexa’s confusion crystallized into a single, white-hot point of desire. The curiosity became a desperate need.
“Yes,” she gasped. “God, yes, Jen.”
That was all the permission Jen needed.
She closed the final inch between them and captured Alexa’s mouth in a searing kiss. It was nothing like the chaste pecks on the cheek. This was all-consuming. Jen’s lips were demanding, skilled, her tongue plunging into Alexa’s mouth with a possessive thrust that made Alexa whimper. She tasted of wine and mint and pure, unadulterated lust.
Jen’s hands were everywhere, sliding into Alexa’s hair, gripping the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Alexa kissed her back, tentatively at first, then with a growing hunger, her own inexperience washed away by the sheer force of Jen’s passion. She melted into the older woman, her body arching against her.
Jen broke the kiss, her breathing ragged. “Bedroom. Now.”
She took Alexa’s hand and led her down the hall to the bedroom she shared with Alex. The symbolism wasn’t lost on Alexa—it was the ultimate transgression—but she was too far gone to care.
Once inside, Jen pushed the door closed with a soft click and turned to Alexa. Her eyes were dark with need.
“Take off your clothes,” she commanded, her voice husky. “I want to see all of you. I’ve been dreaming about it.”
With trembling fingers, Alexa obeyed. She peeled off her t-shirt and yoga pants, standing before Jen in just her simple cotton bra and panties, feeling excruciatingly young and vulnerable.
Jen’s gaze was a physical caress, hot and heavy. “So perfect,” she murmured. She stepped forward and unhooked Alexa’s bra with practiced ease, letting it fall to the floor. She cupped Alexa’s small breasts, her thumbs brushing over the hardened nipples. “So beautiful. So responsive.”
Alexa moaned, her head falling back as sensation shot through her.
“Now these,” Jen whispered, hooking her fingers in the waistband of Alexa’s panties and slowly drawing them down her legs. She knelt before her, her eyes level with Alexa’s bare sex. She inhaled deeply. “You smell incredible. So sweet. So pure.”
She didn’t touch her with her hands. Instead, she leaned forward and dragged her tongue through Alexa’s slick folds in one long, slow, devastating lick.
Alexa cried out, her knees buckling. Jen’s arms shot out to steady her, holding her up as she feasted on her. Her tongue was an instrument of exquisite torture—flicking her clit, plunging inside her, then swirling around the sensitive nub again. She was relentless, expert, reading Alexa’s body like a book, drawing out moans and whimpers Alexa didn’t know she was capable of making.
“Oh my God, Jen… please…” Alexa begged, her fingers tangled in Jen’s perfect blonde hair.
“What do you want, darling?” Jen murmured against her wet flesh, her breath hot. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want… I want to come,” Alexa sobbed, her hips jerking uncontrollably.
“Then come for me,” Jen ordered, and sealed her mouth over Alexa’s clit, sucking hard.
The orgasm exploded through Alexa, violent and shattering. She screamed, her body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure wracked her. Jen held her through it, gentling her tongue, drawing out every last shuddering spasm until Alexa was boneless and trembling.
Jen rose gracefully to her feet, a smug, satisfied smile on her glistening lips. She kissed Alexa, letting her taste herself on Jen’s tongue. The filthiness of it sent another thrill through Alexa’s spent body.
“Now,” Jen said, leading her to the bed and pushing her down onto the duvet. “It’s my turn.”
She stripped off her own dress and underwear with a swift, economical motion, revealing a body that was taut and sculpted, the body of a woman who spent serious time in the gym. She was magnificent.
She lay beside Alexa and took her hand, guiding it between her legs. “Touch me, Alexa. Make me feel good.”
Tentatively, Alexa obeyed, her fingers exploring the silken, wet heat of the older woman. Jen was soaked, her folds swollen with desire. Jen moaned, bucking against her hand.
“Yes, just like that… you’re a natural, my darling,” Jen gasped. “Fuck me with your fingers. I want to feel you inside me.”
Alexa pushed two fingers inside, and Jen cried out, a raw, guttural sound. She was incredibly tight. Jen began to move against her hand, setting a frantic, desperate rhythm.
“Harder,” she commanded. “Don’t be gentle. I’m not made of glass. I want to feel it tomorrow.”
Alexa obeyed, pumping her fingers harder, her own arousal rekindling as she watched the sophisticated, controlled Jennifer come completely undone beneath her touch.
“Play with my clit,” Jen panted. “Use your thumb. Rub it, you beautiful girl. Yes! Just like that! Oh, fuck, Alexa!”
Jen’s hips were pistonming frantically against Alexa’s hand. Her back arched off the bed, a beautiful, tense bow.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” she groaned, her eyes screwed shut. “Thinking of you… in my son’s bed… fucking his girlfriend… it makes me so wet… so fucking dirty…”
Her words were a dark, erotic poison, seeping into Alexa’s soul.
“Come for me, Jen,” Alexa whispered, echoing Jen’s earlier command, feeling a surge of power.
With a strangled cry, Jen climaxed, her body seizing up, her internal muscles clamping down hard on Alexa’s fingers. She shuddered violently, her cries echoing in the quiet room before she collapsed back onto the mattress, breathing raggedly.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of their panting breaths. Then Jen rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand. She looked down at Alexa, her expression a mixture of awe, satisfaction, and something darker, hungrier.
She trailed a finger down Alexa’s stomach, back to her still-sensitive core.
“That was just the beginning, my dear,” Jen purred, her eyes glinting with possessive lust. “We have all night. And I have so much more to teach you.”
