Felicity, Sexy, but Not SO Innocent. Part 1

Part 1

Hello, my name is Felicity Rowe. I’m twenty-one, single, openly bi, and already building a place for myself as a young AI specialist in one of the biggest tech firms in the city. Finishing my PhD at this young age turns heads, so most people who think they know me… only know the part of me that fits in their idea of a prodigy.

Some notice the rest of me a little too quickly, my long blond hair often tied in a ponytail, my full chest, my soft red lips, hiding behind thin glasses, and my sexy long legs that no longer move the way they used to for me.

The office was humming by the time Thea appeared in my doorway, her knockout frame leaning against the door with that effortless confidence of hers. She was dressed in a pencil skirt, the blouse hugging her shoulders before tapering into a waist that made my pulse quicken. 

Her brown hair was swept into a loose twist, a few strands escaping to frame her lovely face, those eyes, sharp and knowing, flicking over me with an intensity that never failed to send a shiver down my spine.

She pushed off the doorframe and she moved in, her heels clicking softly against the floor. The scent of her perfume, Frédéric Malle a Portrait of a Lady drifted toward me as she perched on the edge of my desk, her thighs parting just enough to give me a teasing glimpse of lace beneath her skirt. 

"Oh, I always drop by when I know you’re alone," she said, dragging a finger along the edge of my keyboard. "Especially when you’re wearing that leather skirt. Black really brings out your sexy shapes baby…those long legs."

I rolled closer, my wheelchair gliding silently. "Funny. I was thinking the same about you in that skirt." My hand found her knee, my thumb tracing slow circles. She drew in a sharp little breath, just barely, but I caught it. "You’re distracting me, Thea."

She leaned in, her lips brushing mine, "Good." Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging just enough to tilt my head back. Our eyes locked, hers dark with hunger, mine reflecting a similar need. 

"You’ve been avoiding me for days," she murmured, her breath hot against my skin. "I don’t like it when you do that. I may need to punish you"

I let out a low laugh, my hand sliding higher up her strong thigh. "I’ve been busy. You know how it is, Miss Vice-president, you keep very busy at work." My fingers tightened on her thigh.

She pulled back just enough to study my face, her thumb brushing over my left breast. My hands found her waist, pulling her forward until she straddled my lap in my sporty wheelchair, her skirt riding up as she settled against me. The heat of her was maddening, the way her hips rolled instinctively, seeking friction. 

Her mouth crashed into mine, hungry and demanding, her tongue sweeping past my lips to claim me. I groaned into the kiss, my hands gripping her ass, pulling her tighter against me. She tasted like sin, and I couldn’t get enough.

"You’re so fucking good at this," she gasped between kisses, her fingers working at the buttons of my blouse. "Making me forget where we are?"

I nipped at her lower lip, my hands sliding up to cup her breasts through her blouse. 

"Then let’s go somewhere we won’t forget." My thumbs found her nipples, already hard beneath the fabric, and she arched into my touch with a soft moan. My mouth trailing down her neck, my teeth sinking into the tender skin just above her collarbone. She gasped, her nails digging into my shoulders. 

"Lock the door." She didn’t hesitate.

Wait…what was I telling you before she interrupted me…Yes… My wheelchair is modern, sleek, matte black, smooth as silk when I roll around my life. People stare at my legs and heels sometimes, and over the years I decided to enjoy it.

I should explain that my friend with sexual benefits, on and off, coworker and Vice President is Thea. It wasn't just her brain or her height that I fell in love with.  At 5'10" it  gave her this perfect, effortless presence, especially when she was in bed with me, kissing and licking me all over. 

It was her deep brown eyes that got me the first time I saw her. They were incredibly expressive, sometimes sparkling with her signature sarcasm, and other times incredibly serious, reflecting the weight of everything she'd carried in her position.

Whether in a red leather skirt, in her civilian clothes, or a sharp blazer for a board meeting or just jeans and a comfortable top for a movie night, Thea always looked put-together and chic. I loved that polished exterior because I knew the warm, sometimes messy, heart beating underneath.

Later on that day back in my office she asked, “Is that a new skirt?” 

“Yes,” I said, smoothing the fabric over my thighs. “You know what, I think it shows enough to make men stare at my long legs and heels and women wonder why I’m in this wheelchair with the sexy legs I have.”

Thea laughed. “You enjoy the attention,  don’t you?  sexy devil.”

I settled deeper into my chair, sliding one hand under my right leg to lift it with practiced ease. My fingers guided my long leg across the other, slow and elegant. It always looked more graceful than it felt, but that was part of my charm, knowing how to work with what I had.

“I do,” I said, letting a soft smile touch my mouth. “And I know exactly how to use them.”

I smoothed my skirt over my crossed legs, feeling her eyes follow every tiny movement.

“You know Thea, different things sexually turn people on,” I went on. “My mind. My voice. And yes… even my legs and my breasts.”

“You sound like a woman planning trouble.”

“Not trouble,” I said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Opportunity.”

Part 2 to come
Ashley

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