His Neighbour's Wife

Chapter One

Priscilla
"Mom... um... yeah... never mind." Ashleigh rolled her eyes almost completely around with a sigh. "Can I get a milkshake? They've got strawberry. And I promise to share this time."

I raised an eyebrow in amusement. It always made me laugh when the kids called me Mom, especially since their mom and I looked nothing alike.

"Really? That's tempting. I might even get you your own, Ash. Where would we be getting this milkshake? You know, so you can share." I rolled my eyes back at her with a giggle.

Ashleigh ran off without answering, called away by her brother and leaving me wondering if there was ice cream at home or if we'd get takeout milkshakes.

That girl never finishes a thought. She's always moving. I shook my head at Ashleigh's antics. Trips to the park were unpredictable adventures.

Highlights of my trips home were park days and someone else cooking for me. Thank goodness Jill not only loved to cook, she excelled at it. Made me glad I'd splashed out on Mother's Day dinner for her a couple of weeks before. She was an amazing mother and deserved all the good things in life.

I snuck a glance to my right when someone dropped onto the wooden bench beside me. Sweaty, chiselled perfection in running shorts took my breath away. Happy to hide behind my big, bug-eye-purple sunglasses, my lust-filled brown eyes appreciated the view.

Ashleigh bolted past the bench, racing up the slide onto the climber, forcing me to turn and follow her running form. As I pretended to watch her go screaming by us, I licked my lips and admired the life-size sex on the bench Adonis beside me.

What a fucking view. Thank you, Ash!

My bench mate reminded me of a young Clint Eastwood. Strong, muscular chest you wanted to lean into and never walk away from. His auburn hair slick with sweat, chest still heaving after his run into the park for a rest.

My eyes closed as I lost myself in a fantasy. Lip between my teeth, I groaned as I imagined powerful arms holding me close as his cock pushed into my sweet spot. Fingers flexing, I ached to heed the call. To stroke and squeeze his thighs. Kiss those full lips. Battle his tongue, sucking it like a little cock.

Sex in running shorts. He was all my fantasies personified.

Goodness, he checked off all my boxes.

Tanned. Taut physique. Love of the outdoors. Fit. He was perfect.

Not like that fucktwit, Jack. And there I fell down the rabbit hole filled with memories of finding my ex-fiancé in bed with his step-mom back in March. It took some effort, but I focused back onto the sweaty sex in shorts beside me.

Glad I did, too. He was yummy and well worth the concentration.

Back to my fantasy I go.

Right back to picturing what I'd find if I pulled his waistband down. I slipped my tongue between my lips as I thought about it, desire reddening my cheeks. Stuck into my fantasy, I lost track of what my hands were up to.

"Ahem. If you don't mind. A little to the left, please." The chuckle that escaped his kissable lips brought me back to the moment. My eyes focused on him, taking in the relaxed way he sat with his arms stretched along the back of the bench.

Then I realized where my hand sat. Gently massaging his thigh. At his groin. My hand strayed to the same place my fantasy took me.

"Oh. My. GAWD!!!" I yanked my hand back from his thigh like it was on fire. "I am SO sorry. I... I... I don't know what... ASH!"

"Nope. Not God. The name's Cliff. Thanks for that, though." He chuckled as, face flaming hot and stammering an apology, I jumped up and called the kids to the bench.