𝑩𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒂 𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒂- 𝑩.𝑬

•Step-Mother•

Billie- Dom
G!p Jessie- Sub

Tension, age gap, older billie in her 40's, younger jessie in her early 20's, infidelity, blow/hand jobs, direct/forward Billie, shy jessie, two requests in one

Jessie

"Cass, I'm telling you. The woman is doing that shit on purpose." I complain to my best friend over the phone.

"Jessie, I think you're looking way too deep into this. She's your stepmother, she's probably just trying to be nice since she just moved in."

"You don't understand, Cass. She compliments me more than my dad, her husband. And she's always getting me these gifts and stuff, calling me pet names and she's like extremely touchy when my dad's not around."

"So, she's harassing you?"

"No, Cassie. She's just--Agh! Jesus Christ, Billie!" I yell upon turning the corner and seeing my step mom stood in the archways of the kitchen.

"Who you talkin' to?"

"Um...Cassie, I'll call you back okay?" I quickly hang up the phone as I take a deep breath. "Just Cassie."

"What were y'all talkin about?" She asked, but I had a feeling she overheard everything.

"Nothing important. What are you doing here?" I ask, changing the subject.

Billie was rarely home during the day, as was dad. They both have these boring office jobs that keep them away until 6 so usually I had the house to myself all day long.

"Your dad told me you always make lunch when you're home. I figured we could have some bonding time, if that's okay with you?"

"Uh...yeah, yeah sure. I'm just making Fettuccine Alfredo. It's almost done." I say, sliding past her into the kitchen where I was cooking.

"How did you learn how to cook?"

I slightly tense as I turn the burner down. "Um...my mom was a chef before she died. Cooking was kind of her passion."

"That's sweet. You guys cooked together a lot?"

"Mostly when I was a teenager. I always made lunch and she always made dinner." I chuckle to myself at the memories.

"Well maybe you can teach me some things so I can take over for dinner. That way your dad doesn't have to order takeout every night."

"Do you cook?" I ask, trying to make casual conversation so my mind wouldn't flow elsewhere and end up giving me a boner.

Billie knew about my situation, and I didn't care but it would be humiliating if I got a boner in front of her.

"Sort of. I'm no chef like your mother but I know my way around a kitchen."

"Well since you do, do you mind getting me a measuring cup out of the cabinet?"

My back is turned to her but I hear her get up and rummage through our cabinets. Seconds later I feel her presence behind me, looking over my shoulder as she sets the cup down. I knew what she was doing, and she knew it too. She was testing me, waiting for any sign of rejection from me.

When no words of rejection left my mouth her hands are placed on my hips, sliding up under the loose fabric of my oversized shirt. My movements halted as I swallowed thickly.

"You okay, honey?" She asks so tenderly, as if she really had no idea what she was doing.

"Mhm. It's just...warm in here." I say, laughing awkwardly. She moves slightly, reaching over to turn off the stove before returning back to her previous position. Her arms now fully wrapping around my waist.