⭐While the Cat's Away
18+ | Erotic Romance / Contemporary Erotica | taboo/forbidden romance | Age Gap
The hum of the highway always does something to me. It’s the steady vibration of the steering wheel, the endless stretch of asphalt, or maybe just the sheer freedom of having nothing to do but think for three hours. By the time I hit the Springfield city limits, the summer heat was already radiating off the pavement, and my sundress felt a little too tight, a little too restrictive—not that I was wearing anything underneath it to trap the heat. I rarely do. The feeling of soft cotton brushing directly against my skin with every movement is a constant, quiet thrill, keeping me just a fraction of an inch away from being totally turned on at any given moment.
As a freelance writer, I spend most of my life trapped inside my own head, analyzing books, reviewing trends, and spinning words. But when it comes to the real world? I don’t want to analyze. I want to feel. I have an appetite for experience that most people find exhausting, an insatiable curiosity that usually kicks into overdrive the second things get a little risky.
I pulled into my mom’s driveway, killed the engine, and checked my reflection in the rearview mirror. My green eyes looked bright, framed by a few stray strands of dark brown, shoulder-length hair that had escaped my ponytail. I smoothed down my dress, stepped out into the heavy Illinois humidity, and walked up to the front door without knocking.
“Mom? Leo?” I called out, tossing my keys onto the entryway table.
The house was quiet, save for the low drone of the air conditioning. I walked into the kitchen and found a hastily scribbled note on the counter in my mom’s erratic handwriting: Ceci, ran out to the outlet malls with Leo to get him some clothes for his interview. Back by dinner!
A sudden rustle behind me made me spin around. Standing in the doorway to the hallway was Sam, my mom’s boyfriend. He was wearing nothing but a pair of faded jeans, his chest bare, looking solid and surprised.
“Ceci,” he said, his voice a low rumble that instantly sent a familiar, electric jolt straight to my core. “Didn’t expect you until later.”
My breath hitched, my nipples immediately hardening against the thin fabric of my dress. We stood there for a beat, the air between us thick with the memory of what had happened the last time I visited—a fleeting, intense encounter in the hallway after everyone else had gone to sleep, a promise left entirely unfinished. Now, the house was completely empty, and the look in Sam’s eyes told me he remembered exactly where we had left off.
Sam didn’t move, and neither did I. The silence in the house suddenly felt heavy, charged with the kind of energy that makes your skin prickle. His eyes tracked the movement of my chest as my breathing shifted, shallow and quick. Downstairs, the AC kicked off, and the sudden quiet made the sound of my own heartbeat feel incredibly loud.
“They’re going to be gone for hours,” Sam said softly, taking a single, deliberate step into the kitchen. His bare feet made no sound on the linoleum. “The traffic out by the outlets is always a mess on weekends.”
“Is that right?” I murmured. I leaned back against the kitchen counter, gripping the edge of the laminate behind me. The movement pulled the fabric of my sundress taut across my chest. I knew exactly what he was looking at—the distinct, sharp outlines of my nipples pressing hard against the thin material.
Sam’s gaze dropped to my chest, his pupils dilating. He let out a breath through his teeth, the casual demeanor completely evaporating. “Ceci, you’re playing with fire. You know what happened last time.”
“I remember exactly what happened,” I said, my voice dropping an octave. I shifted my weight, and the frictionless slide of the dress against my bare hips was an agonizingly perfect sensation. I wanted him to know. I wanted him to see just how ready I was. “But last time, we heard footsteps. Last time, we had to stop.”
He walked closer, stopping just a foot away. The heat radiating off his bare skin was intoxicating, smelling of cedarwood and clean sweat. He was taller than me, forcing me to tilt my chin up to meet his eyes.
“And this time?” he asked, his voice rough.
Instead of answering, I reached down, caught the hem of my dress, and slowly pulled it up just a few inches—high enough to expose the bare, smooth skin of my thighs, and high enough for him to realize there wasn’t a single stitch of fabric between him and what he wanted.
Sam caught his breath, his eyes locking onto my hips. A dark, intense look washed over his face, all hesitation melting away. He reached out, his large, warm hand clamping firmly onto my bare waist, pulling me forward until my chest brushed against his bare torso. The contrast of the cool fabric of my dress against his warm skin made me gasp, my hands instinctively flying to his shoulders, gripping the solid muscle there.
“You really don’t wear underwear, do you?” he whispered, his thumb caressing the curve of my hip, sending a jolt of pure adrenaline straight down my spine.
“Never,” I breathed, tilting my head back as his face drifted closer to mine. “Especially not when I’m coming home.”
The memory of last time flashed through my mind—hot, hurried, and desperate behind the garage, my knees in the dirt while he gripped the back of my hair by the barbecue grill. It had been an incredible, frantic rush, but it had left me starved for more. A simple blowjob wasn’t going to cut it today. I didn’t want to just tease the edges; I wanted him fully inside me, stretched tight, buried to the hilt until neither of us could think straight.
I leaned into him, closing the final inch of distance, and crashed my lips against his. The kiss was hard, demanding, and tasted like pure anticipation. I used my tongue to claim his mouth, letting him feel the absolute urgency running through my veins. He groaned into the kiss, his hands tightening on my waist, but before he could pull me any closer, I broke away, breathless and smiling.
“Not down here,” I whispered.
I turned toward the stairs, my heart hammering against my ribs. As I took the first step, I reached back with both hands, gathered the lightweight fabric of my sundress, and lifted it high over my hips. I didn’t look back, but I knew exactly what he was seeing: the smooth, bare curve of my ass swaying with every step I took up the carpeting.
The heavy, urgent sound of his footsteps immediately followed me. He didn’t even hesitate. By the time I reached the landing, his hand clamped onto my thigh from behind, his fingers digging into my skin with a possessiveness that made my knees go weak.
“Ceci,” he growled, his breath hot against the back of my neck as he pushed me gently but firmly toward the open door of the guest bedroom. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
“I think I do,” I panted, throwing myself onto the mattress and turning over to face him, pulling my dress up to my waist and opening my legs wide, completely exposed and aching for him. “Shut the door, Sam. And don’t make me wait.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Sam turned and kicked the bedroom door shut, the click of the latch sounding like a starting gun. He kicked off his shoes, and in one fluid, desperate motion, unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down his legs along with his boxers.
I sat up on the edge of the bed, grabbing the hem of my sundress and pulling it over my head in one swift motion, tossing it onto the floor. I sat there completely naked, my skin tingling in the air-conditioned room, my green eyes locked onto him.
He was already hard, but as his eyes took me in—completely bare, legs slightly parted, my small, perky breasts rising and falling with my shallow breaths—his cock throbbed and rapidly grew even larger, coming to full, rigid life with pure anticipation. It was thick, heavy, and slick at the tip, glistening in the muted light of the bedroom.
Sam stood at the foot of the bed, his breath hitching as he wrapped his fingers around his shaft, giving himself a few slow, deliberate strokes. The sight of him formatting his grip, the veins straining against his skin as he got even harder, made a fresh wave of heat pool between my thighs. My nipples were practically aching, stretched so tight they felt like electricity was arcing through them.
“God, Ceci,” he muttered, his voice dropping into a rough, guttural register as he kept his eyes pinned to mine, pacing his strokes. “You are absolutely beautiful. Look at you.”
“Don’t just look,” I whispered, leaning back on my elbows, tilting my pelvis up to give him an unobstructed view of just how wet and ready I was for him. “Come here.”
The erotic tension in the room stretched so tight it felt like a tripwire, ready to snap at the slightest touch. Watching him stroke himself, seeing the raw hunger etched into every line of his face, sent a jolt of pure adrenaline straight through me. I couldn’t just sit still.
I reached up with both hands, cupping my own breasts, feeling the weight of them in my palms. I arched my back, presenting myself to him completely, and ran my thumbs over my nipples before pinching them sharply. The sudden, exquisite sting of pleasure made me gasp out loud, my hips twitching involuntarily on the mattress.
Sam let out a low, ragged growl at the sight. The last shred of his restraint evaporated. He dropped his hand from his cock and stepped forward, the mattress sinking heavily under his weight as he climbed onto the bed.
He crawled over me like a predator, his massive frame casting a shadow over mine. He pinned my wrists above my head, his large hands easily swallowing mine, while his knees pried my thighs even further apart. I could feel the hot, rigid length of his cock brushing against the side of my hip, searingly hot and slick with pre-cum.
“You like to tease, don’t you?” he whispered, his face inches from mine, his chest heaving against my breasts.
“I like to get what I want,” I panted, staring directly into his darkened eyes. I unlocked my wrists from his grip and wrapped my legs tightly around his waist, pulling his hips flush against mine. The contact of his hard shaft pressing directly against my aching, wet center made me cry out, completely helpless to the friction. “And right now, I want you inside me. All of you.”
He didn’t hesitate for another second. Grabbing my hips, he aligned his weight and thrust forward in one deep, unyielding motion. The sudden, overwhelming fullness stretched me completely, his thick cock burying itself all the way to the hilt just like I wanted. A loud, sharp gasp tore from my throat as my internal muscles clamped down hard around him, trying to process the sheer intensity of having him filling me completely.
Without letting me catch my breath, Sam established a relentless, punishing rhythm. He wasn’t holding back. Every thrust was powerful, forcing his thick shaft to rub hard against the outer walls of my vagina, creating an intense, friction-filled heat that made my vision blur. He angled his hips perfectly, hitting my G-spot with a heavy, rhythmic thud with every single downstroke. The targeted pressure was so overwhelming that early, deep contractions started rippling through my pelvic floor, squeezing him tight and threatening to pull me over the edge before we had even truly begun.
I wrapped my arms desperately around his neck, pulling my chest tight against his, burying my face in the crook of his shoulder. The scent of him, the heat of his skin, and the formatting of his heavy thrusts drove me completely wild.
“Oh, Sam... fuck me!” I cried out directly into his ear, my voice cracking with pure pleasure as my hips arched up to meet him, begging for more of the friction.
He let out a ragged, breathless groan, his fingers digging bruisingly deep into the flesh of my hips to anchor me as he drove into me even harder.
“Ceci, you’re going to kill me one of these days,” he panted, his voice a rough, desperate whisper against my skin as he picked up the pace, his chest heaving against mine.
This was exactly what I wanted—the chaotic, consuming intensity I’d been chasing since the moment I stepped out of the car. It was everything I had hoped for and more, stripped of any politeness or hesitation. Sam was taking me hard, driving his thick cock into me with a raw, desperate hunger, fucking me like a man who hadn’t had sex in months.
Knowing my mom, he probably hadn’t. The thought only added fuel to the fire, a wicked little thrill that made my walls tighten around him even harder. He was completely starved, and I was more than willing to let him consume me.
Every heavy thrust shook the bed, the rhythmic sound of our skin slapping together filling the quiet room. He lifted his head, his face flushed, sweat dripping from his brow onto my chest as he looked down at me. His grip on my hips was ironclad, anchoring me to the mattress so he could bury himself to the absolute hilt with every single downstroke.
“You’re so tight, Ceci,” he growled, his teeth bared in a mix of pleasure and concentration as he angled his pelvis again, grinding hard against my G-spot.
“Don’t stop,” I choked out, my hands moving from his neck to claw at his back, my fingernails digging into his shoulders. The contractions inside me were spinning out of control, building into a violent, overwhelming wave. “Sam, please—fast, give it to me fast!”
He took the cue instantly. Shifting his weight, he pinned my legs back even further, opening me up completely, and began to drive into me with a fast, merciless speed. The pace was frantic, his thick cock sliding in and out of my drenched, swollen walls with a relentless friction that had me crying out with every single stroke.
My vision swam as the pleasure became a physical weight, crushing and ecstatic all at once. The deep contractions that had been simmering inside me suddenly coalesced into a tight, explosive knot. Every time his pelvis slammed against mine, hitting that perfect spot over and over, a new wave of sparks seemed to shoot straight down to my toes.
“I’m close, Sam, I’m going to—”
Before I could finish the sentence, the knot snapped. My orgasm hit me like a physical blow, a violent, bucking release that had my internal walls clamping down on his shaft in tight, rhythmic spasms. I arched off the bed, my head falling back into the pillow as a breathless, ragged scream tore from my throat.
The intense, crushing tightness of my climax was the final straw for Sam. He let out a loud, guttural roar, his entire body going rigid as he buried himself inside me one last time, pinning his hips hard against mine. I felt the hot, heavy pulses of his come filling me up, thick and deep, shooting into my contracting center as he held himself there, trembling with the sheer force of his own release.
We stayed like that for a long time, chests heaving, the sound of our ragged breathing the only noise in the quiet bedroom as the aftershocks slowly rippled through us both.
We lay there like that for several minutes, wrapped up in each other as the chaotic energy slowly drained from the room. The only sound was our synchronized, ragged breathing gradually leveling out, letting a quiet calm return to our bodies. The heavy humidity of the afternoon outside felt worlds away from the air-conditioned peace of the bedroom.
Finally, Sam stirred, kissing my forehead before reluctantly pulling away. We got out of bed and quietly cleaned ourselves up, erasing the immediate physical traces of what we’d just done. As he reached for his jeans, I looked at his bare back and laughed softly, pointing at the thin, red lines trailing down his shoulders.
“You’ll probably need a shirt to cover those scratch marks,” I whispered, a wicked smile playing on my lips.
“Jesus, Ceci,” he muttered with a grin, shaking his head as he hunted through the closet for a clean t-shirt.
While he dressed, I grabbed a can of Lysol from the bathroom, lightly spraying the bedroom and the hallway to completely cover the heavy, unmistakable scent of sex. I pulled my sundress back over my head, letting the fabric settle loosely against my skin, still completely bare underneath and buzzing with a deep, thoroughly satisfied ache.
By the time we walked back downstairs, everything looked exactly as it had when I arrived. We grabbed a couple of cold drinks from the kitchen and sat in the living room, casually flipping through the TV channels. When the front door finally unlocked an hour later and my mom’s voice echoed into the hallway, Sam and I looked at each other for a brief, knowing second—perfectly composed, entirely relaxed, and waiting to welcome the rest of the family home.