On June 23rd at a Bridgerton family pool party when she was just fourteen, Penelope Featherington became a woman. Thank heavens, it was not that she began her menses that day. She did not have her first drink, or her first cigarette, or share her first kiss. No, Penelope had her first ever sexual fantasy about none other than the older brother of her best friend, Colin Bridgerton.
She had been crushing on him since they first met. She had obviously found him attractive, but it wasn't until he came home from his first semester at college with a face full of stubble that she found herself having explicit daydreams about things she hardly yet understood. All Penelope knew was Colin was hot, and she desperately wanted to feel that stubble on her. Her hands, her lips, her tongue, her...other places. Wherever she could.
Of course, Penelope never acted on these urges, choosing to bottle them up or write them down in her journals. By the time she reached the age of twenty-two and she and Colin had actually began dating, Penelope had four journals full of all the dirty little thoughts she had collected about him over the years. And Colin, insufferable twat he was, had clearly found them and was using them to torment her.
Every day, it was something new. One day, it was wearing obscenely short shorts around the apartment and bending over in them so that she could get a nice view of his 'juicy peach bottom'. Her words, unfortunately. Another day, it was the excessive fidgeting of Colin's fingers, caressing every little thing in front of him because she had once said she imagined those fingers bringing her to climax when she touched herself. Today, it was him growing out his stubble just to see how she'd react. During all of his teasing, she had remained strong, never making a move, never letting him see just how much he affected her. Today, Penelope wanted to see if her boyfriend was all talk.
Of course, Colin was wearing his glasses, a plain back tee, and his pajama bottoms while he typed away on his laptop. And that stubble. He knew the sight drove her wild, so who could blame her for what she did next? Penelope closed his laptop, knowing that whatever it was would be saved, then tossed it on the couch next to him and crawled into his lap.
"Pen, babe, I was---" His words were cut off as she ran the flat of her tongue along his jaw, his short, thick hairs scraping against her chin in the most delicious way. She pulled back, smiling to herself at the dumbfounded look on his face. "Wow," Colin breathed. "Uh, what was that for?"
"You tell me," she replied daringly before leaning in and stealing several kisses from his lips. When he seemed sufficiently breathless, she moved to his jaw, pressing kisses there before leaving a trail down his neck and back up. "I-oh God-I knew you'd like the beard but damn, Pen."
She stopped long enough to stare into his eyes, finding him grinning back at her. "What can I say? Couldn't take your teasing anymore. You've created a monster, baby," she said, smiling victoriously as she felt him twitch and whimper at the name.
Then Colin growled, flipping them over so she was laid down on the couch, which was the real reaction she had hoped for when she started this. "Oh you haven't seen anything yet, babe. I can still recall every one of your fantasies in vivid detail, and I am very prepared to reenact every one of them."
Penelope gasped when his scruff scratched the tops of her breasts. "Is that a promise?"
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They had been dating for approximately three months now, and every day with Colin had been pure bliss. He was always over at her place, in their own corner of the world, their own impenetrable love bubble. It seemed that in between their quiet writing time, they were always either having sex, thinking about having sex, or just got done having sex. Currently, Colin had her pinned against the couch, pressing kisses to her neck and grinding his erection into her hips.
