Chapter Text
Almost there, he texted quickly at a red light.
He gripped the steering wheel, resisting the urge to bypass the speed limit when the lights went green. He was not going to be arrested before making it to Penelope’s flat.
This time he was prepared. Keys, wallet, phone, condoms, travel-sized lube (not that he needed it, he got Penelope wet just fine on his own), a stunning bouquet of roses, a box of eclairs, and a mocha latte.
She answered on the first knock. The roses almost fell out of his slack-jawed grip as she pulled open the door. Penelope was barefoot, her toes painted red. Her legs were bare, too, because the short robin’s egg blue slip dress she was wearing only had enough material in it to cover the top of her thighs… if she turned around, he wasn’t sure it would extend over her arse. There wasn’t much covering her front either — just triangles of the same thin silk that did nothing to hide her attention-seeking nipples.
They had his attention. He handed her the latte, silently mulling over how annoyed she (and Genevieve) would be if he tore through the fabric covering Penelope’s nipples with his teeth.
“Hi,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. She took the roses from him, inhaling their scent and casting him a smile that was entirely too beguiling. “You’re early.”
“Never keep a lady waiting,” he said, eyes on her arse as he followed her into the kitchen, setting the box of eclairs on the counter. Round and mouthwateringly plump, like a juicy peach ripe for the picking.
Penelope bent to retrieve a glass vase from a floor cabinet, flashing it in Colin’s direction. The air fled from his lungs as the matching thong revealed itself, fashioned out of as little fabric as possible, much like the slip. He wondered if Genevieve was cutting corners on manufacturing costs or being environmentally conscious. Either way, he sent heartfelt thanks her way.
He brooded over her bottom (delightful) and let himself get lost in a fantasy. Penelope, bent over his bed, her dress flipped up as he pounded into her from behind. Heels on, to even out the height difference (she was such a tiny thing, barely coming up to his chest… also delightful). And the stockings he added on halfway through. He’d never seen Penelope in stockings. Hopefully, it wasn’t because she didn’t like them. Maybe she would change her mind if he told her he loved stockings? Would she want to please him like that?
He certainly hoped so.
Penelope straightened, saw him looking, and winked.
Saucy minx.
He came around the kitchen island, but she ducked around to the other side, giggling at the surprised growl he let loose. He stalked her into the living room, grabbing her around the waist and tugging her onto his lap as he sat, heavily, on her sofa.
The slip rode up on her thighs, letting that criminally skimpy little thong peek out. It didn’t cover much, even in front, and Colin sucked in a breath as he dipped her back slightly to get a better view. Something was decidedly different.
“I waxed for the camera,” she said apologetically, knowing exactly what he was thinking. “Not quite brave enough yet to go without.”
He wasn’t complaining. He liked her bare, very much so. He liked her any way he could get her, honestly, and he was surprised she hadn’t realised it yet. A deeper, more caveman part of him was also glad he’d be the only one to know that the carpet matched the curtains, so to speak.
Colin slid his hand between her legs, letting his fingers dip beneath the edges of her knickers. Soft, heated, lovely skin. If he delved deeper, into her slit, would he find her wet?
He wanted to fuck her in this position.
Photoshoot, he reminded himself.
Condoms, his cock said, reminding him that he’d brought a supersize pack. Pen won’t mind, it whispered insidiously, concerned with one thing and one thing only: fucking Penelope.
Without realising he was even doing it, Colin was gripping her waist and pressing her hot centre to his erection. His cock was right — she didn’t seem to mind. Her tits bounced as she rocked her hips over him. He vaguely recalled that she might be sensitive and having her breasts bounce around like that might be painful, so he helpfully reached up and cupped them in his palms for support. She sighed, which he took as a sign of appreciation. Her nipples were stiff, so he massaged them through the silk. Penelope sighed again, more loudly this time, and when he leaned forward to place a kiss on one of her lovely peaks, she moaned his name.
He liked the sound of that very much, so he kissed the other nipple too, making sure to roll the one he’d left behind so it wouldn’t feel abandoned. Penelope arched into his mouth. Colin sucked at the silk-covered tip, dampening the fabric and marvelling at his luck. He’d never get used to this. For years it had been the stuff of his wildest fantasies, and now he was living it.
When he pulled back, she let out a half-gasp, looking at the mess he’d made of her slip. Dark, damp spots covered her chest. It wasn’t fit for public view now, he’d made sure of that.
“Sorry,” he said, not really sorry at all. The sight of the wet circles he’d created on the translucent fabric over her nipples was incredibly fucking sexy.
Penelope shocked him by reaching for her phone and handing it to him.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded, eyes gleaming with mischief. “These ones are for you.”
Oh, fuck. He didn’t need any more motivation than that. Colin opened the camera app on Penelope’s phone. He took snap after snap, angling the phone to get the best possible view of her sodden slip and erect nipples.
“Fuck, Pen, these are so hot.” He looked up and blurted out, “Can I send them to myself?”
Penelope nodded. “Yeah,” she said, biting her lower lip. “Okay.”
He was the last person to have messaged her, so it was easy to open up their conversation and send himself the photos. Then he dropped the phone onto the sofa and kissed her. It was an unforgivable oversight on his behalf that he hadn’t yet since arriving.
Some time later, Penelope pulled away, and laid her hand on his chest, teasing him with a light scratch of her thumb. He was hyper-aware of the way her fingers toyed with the button on his oxford. He could almost feel the heat of her hand through the cotton fabric, searing an invisible brand over his skin.
“More pics?” he croaked out, unable to look away from his rapidly disappearing handiwork. The silk was thin, and already starting to dry. He resisted the urge to ruin it again.
“Yes,” said Penelope, arching her back. She placed one of his hands over her breast. “Like this.”
Fuck yeah. He slid his thumb over her nipple, covering it from view, and picked up her phone to take the photos. He sent those to himself, too.
Eagerly, he asked: “Next outfit?”
“I might need a little help,” she nodded coyly. “Hard to take this off.”
Oh. He needed help, too, and a lot of it, if he was going to make it through the picture-taking portion of this afternoon. His cock, ever-ready for action, was making its desire for the indulgent sex part very well known.
Colin couldn’t see how it was difficult to remove the slip dress, but what did he know? If Penelope needed help, he was here to provide assistance. He got her naked in no time at all, tugging the slip over her head. Her lovely breasts hung free, rosy nipples stabbing out from puffy areolas.
He raised his eyebrow… and Penelope’s phone. She took it from him, wry amusement in her eyes.
“Let me up.”
He let go, watching her sashay into her bedroom wearing nothing but a pair of tiny knickers. Colin followed, led by his dick and unashamed, but Penelope looked over her shoulder and said, “Stay.”
Like a puppy, he stopped short. She closed the door behind her, laughing at him like the saucy vixen she was — fuck, how had he not realised she liked teasing him? He liked it.
A few minutes later, the bedroom door opened. Colin’s heart pounded in his chest. Penelope came out, wearing a black robe.
“I looked everywhere for that yellow bra,” she said, casually leaning against the door frame. “Spent ages going through the back of my closet.”
Oh, fuck. His heart picked up the pace. Colin tried to keep his cool as he longed for x-ray vision, so that he could see through her robe. Was she wearing it?
“Did you find it?” he asked, mouth dry.
“Yeah.”
He was practically vibrating with excitement. “You did?”
“It doesn’t fit anymore,” she said.
Of course, he thought, trying not to feel crestfallen. Obviously it didn’t fit — her boobs were bigger now. She was more voluptuous. She’d long outgrown it.
“But I found something similar,” she continued, shrugging the robe off her shoulders. It fell to the floor in a whisper of silk. The hairs on the back of Colin’s neck stood on end.
It was the sheerest, most delicate bra he’d ever seen. The lacy cups barely contained Penelope’s breasts, lovingly ensconcing them in the familiar sunshine hue of his memories. The scalloped edging on the cups was another reminiscent feature — sweet and a little demure. It wasn’t the same bra, no, but all that mattered to him in the moment was that it was on Penelope’s body. He felt eighteen again, taking two jerky steps forward and reaching out to grab her tits, caveman style.
“You know, I hate yellow,” she said, stepping back, out of his reach.
“I love yellow,” he replied hoarsely, fighting to keep control of himself.
Then she was tugging down the straps, pulling her arms free of them, letting the yellow lace drop around her waist. She dropped to her knees, eyes trained on his crotch.
“What about the pictures?” he asked, even though he didn’t give a fuck about the photoshoot any more.
He’d love to take a photo of Penelope kneeling on the floor in front of him. The thought popped suddenly into his mind and refused to depart. Fuck. He was getting greedy, wanting more and more.
“This isn’t for the camera,” she murmured, freeing his cock from his boxers.
His mouth fell open, and pretty much stayed open for the next twenty minutes. He kicked off his pants, gobsmacked. Penelope produced a bottle, one that sported a discreet label with very little branding on it. The scent of something sweet and coconutty met his nostrils as she uncapped it. She warmed it between her palms before reaching for him… letting her slick fingers glide over his cock head.
“Is this alright?” she asked. “Not cold?”
This wasn’t even in the realm of ‘alright’. This was completely, utterly ruinous.
Penelope Featherington was slathering scented body oil all over his cock.
“It’s edible,” she said, her breath hot as it ghosted over his skin. Colin barely had the chance to inhale when The hysterical screaming caps lock in his head was immediately silenced by Penelope shifting on her knees, rising to bring her breasts level with his throbbing erection. She slid it neatly between those specimens of perfection, pushing them together around him to form a vice of voluptuously soft flesh.
There was a split second where he thought, genuinely, that he would pass out from sheer ecstasy, or perhaps rapid blood loss to his brain as the majority of it was redirected to his dick. She plunged her equally hot mouth over the tip of him, swirling her tongue over the sensitive slit. A full-body shiver racked him, and he thought his head might explode from sheer, unadulterated pleasure.
She pulled away, taking her gorgeous lips from his VERY ENGORGED, OIL-DRENCHED COCK. His brain stuttered, caught in capslock.
His dick, squeezed between Penelope’s tits.
Penelope’s tits, pushed together around his cock.
His cock, slipping up and down between Penelope’s tits.
Penelope’s tits, soft, plush, and slick with oil, massaging his dick, blowing his mind when she started alternating the rhythm, lifting one up as the other went down.
“Are you trying to kill me?”
“I don’t want you to die,” she murmured throatily, continuing to stroke his cock between her plush tits.
Her nipples glistened as they dragged along his length.
Definitely trying to kill him.
“Fuck,” he cursed. He reached down, cupping her face with his palm — Penelope nuzzled it. His other hand hovered above her chest, not quite touching, letting the back of his knuckles graze her breasts as she moved up and down. “You’re perfect.”
He felt deranged, consumed with the desire to capture this moment for all of posterity. He wasn’t above begging. If she said no, he’d just stare until it was tattooed into the back of his eyelids.
“Pen… just one?”
Penelope paused, her fingers digging slightly into the slick, pale flesh of her breasts.
“Please?”
A few seconds ticked by in silence. Then she lifted her chin, meeting his gaze straight on, and nodded.
His blood pounded in his veins. She trusted him enough to let him take nudes, and he didn’t have to hear what she said next to know how she felt, but he loved hearing it anyway: “Only cos’ I love you.”
Colin pulled away from her long enough to snatch her phone from the coffee table. His hands shook as Penelope sat back on her haunches, head tilted back, blue eyes coquettishly meeting the camera lens, her tits gleaming and perfect. He took the photo, ignoring the way his cock ached, protesting the interruption.
“I love you,” he said. “You’re so beautiful.”
Maybe it was weird for him to be saying the words while standing over her taking nudes, but he didn’t feel weird about it. And neither did Penelope, it seemed, because her flushed, answering smile — blue eyes crinkling at the corners — was one-hundred percent adoring.
Penelope scooted forward, taking his cock in hand again, picking up where she’d left off.
Colin didn’t last very long after that. Shame didn’t factor into it. There was no fucking way he’d last. He knew it, Penelope knew it, and then so did the neighbours (probably) when he blew his load, bellowing her name and loud curse words. It took him ages to come down from what had to be one of the most wrenchingly hot orgasms of his life. (Yes, it was confirmed: every orgasm was indeed better than the last.)
Penelope rose on her haunches, her face as red as his, a deep blush covering not only her cheeks but her neck and clavicle. She was so fucking adorable and sexy with her cleavage shining with oil and his cum, he could barely handle it.
“I’m going to go clean up,” she said, blushing harder as she said the words.
He lay there, drowning in the glow of sexual satisfaction, his brain and body practically buzzing in the aftereffects of coming so hard his toes had curled.
Penelope came back out of the bathroom a few moments later, wearing a bathrobe. She still had a pink glow on her cheeks, the look of a woman pleased with having rendered a bloke speechless and mindblown.
Casually, she asked, “Are you feeling peckish? I’ve got a hankering for pizza—”
That wouldn’t do at all. He was not finished with her.
Colin rose to his feet and charged at her, pinning her against the wall of her bedroom and kissing her fiercely enough to drive a moan out of her throat. Then he dropped to his knees and shoved one of her legs over his shoulder, spreading her open. She was naked under the robe, so Colin was greeted with the sight of her wet cunt with no obstruction at all. He got to work, tongue seeking out her clit without hesitation.
“Colin!”
She bucked and lost her footing, but he held on tight, making sure she didn’t fall as he ate her out until she came, fingers clutching at his hair. The tugging on his scalp felt incredible, and his cock answered the call, hardening again.
Insatiable.
Penelope's legs trembled. He licked at her slit with soothing strokes, delighting in the shivers and moans that emerged from her body. One orgasm wasn’t enough. He needed to give her at least three more to make up for what she’d given him.
“Colin?”
He rose to his feet, just a tiny bit unsteady himself, and pressed his erection to her soft belly, kissing her like his life depended on it.
“Sofa,” he said, nipping at her bottom lip. “We’re not done with the photoshoot. And put that bra back on, Pen… I’ve got some ideas.”