lace, it seemed wrong with her swollen belly, like she should be wearing black. She didn’t stop me when I pulled it open and run my hands up her bare skin, or when I pulled the fabric covering her fuller breasts out the way. Turning her around so that I couldn’t see her pregnant stomach, I ran my hands up the back of her thighs, over her stockings and the soft flesh that is naked above them.
“Rat, I’m about to…” she starts to tell me to stop, but I won’t.
“No, give me this. Give me just once where you aren’t his wife, before you are my stepmother — just once please Chelsey.” Slipping my hands under the robe further I slide my hands over her hips and into the top of her underwear and pull it down, just slightly, waiting for her to stop me, to make me give her up. But, she doesn’t. Instead she pushes the robe off her shoulders so I have to pull away and let it fall to the floor. Her naked back exposed to me, with her hair pulled up, I run my knuckles up her spine and unclip the bra strap in my way. It was like everything was in slow motion after that, no rushing, no pressure, nothing else mattered except the two of us and what we felt. Touching, kissing, slowly building the tension as we stood there and I explored her body. She was dripping wet by the time I pushed a finger inside her, and the hushed moan that escaped when I did was what made me lose any control I thought I had. Unbuckling my belt with one hand I kept fingering her, I could feel her tightening, squeezing it with every stroke. Stopping, I tore the lace knickers form her body and dropped them on the floor. She sucked in a whimper and placed her hands on the dresser beside us, her face and mine in the mirror above it. Looking into my eyes I put a hand around her delicate neck and kissed her ear.
“Just once,” I whispered, “then he can have you back.” With one movement I forced myself into her, no chance for her to say no, to stop me, or to get away. I took everything I wanted from her. I held her throat and her hip and fucked her with long strokes. She winced a bit, it was a little too deep, but she just took it. I loved making her feel like that, taking me from tip to balls I fucked her and made her mine before he could. I watched her eyes flutter closed as she came, the shudders of her orgasm rippled through her whole body. I knew then, that there was no way in hell I could let her go, that I wouldn’t want this every fucking day.
“Rat.” She hissed through clenched teeth trying so hard to be quiet and not draw attention to my presence in her room. My name slithering out of her mouth was the most erotic thing I’d ever heard and I came, deep and hard inside her. There was nothing to say, I zipped up my pants and tightened my belt, she wiped her tears and we just looked at each other, before I kissed her — it was goodbye. I felt it in my chest, where my heart was aching.
I will never get it out of my head. I made love to my father’s bride, then helped her lace up her dress and gave her to him. I stole her heart and she took mine. It was the worst and best thing we could have done.
Now I live in the same house as her. We steal lustful moments when he’s not home, but never more than a kiss or touch. A glance, a smile, a hand on my back when we pass through the kitchen. I live from one stolen moment to the next.
“Rat.” Nonna calls over the crowded lunch table. “Where you go?”
She’s talking about my daydreaming. I can’t tell her I’m imagining Chelsey up against her bedroom door again. “I’m tired, Nonna. I worked the docks last night.”
I brush her off but the old woman is very intuitive, she can tell when things aren’t right. It’s like she knows what we are all doing, all the time. The old woman knows everything. She moves on from me quickly, to Chelsey and my father who seem to be having an argument