Diamonds and Pearls
A Chris Evans fan fiction
A written collaboration with avenger-nerd-mom and marvelmom
Chris sings in the shower…
Warnings: NSFW, Language, Adult Situations, Masturbation
Inspired by Chris singing and @virtualgirlfriendsan
Word Count 470
The tune runs through his head and he hums along as the hot water pours over every inch of his beautiful body.
He continues singing as he soaps his chiseled abs, the suds sticking in the curls of the hair on his chest, and his hands slowly run over his pecs. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back letting the water run down his chest as his hand moves down his V. He becomes lost in his thoughts of you and forgets the words to the song as he begins a gentle tug.
Leaning against the gray slate wall for support, clenching his raised hand into a fist against the cool tile, his soapy hand travels down his hardening shaft. He drops his head, letting the water wash over his back. He moans as his fingers curl and his hand begins to move over the swollen vein in his cock. He thinks of you as his grasp tightens. He smiles as he imagines your hot wet mouth wrapped tightly around him as he begins to pump faster.
His pace slows as a wave of cool air hits his back when the glass doors open. His shoulders relax as your warm body presses up against him.
Chris trembles against you as you run your fingertips up his bulging arms, your lips nipping at his neck until they reach his ear. Whispering seductively, he hears, “Don’t stop baby, I want to watch you come.”
He moans with desire as you brush your lush tits across his back, reaching around his tapered hip to place your hand over his to guide him to his release. Running the fingers on your free hand down his back, you slip them between his ass cheeks. He spreads his legs slightly, sighing when you begin to stroke the area behind his balls.
In the steam of the shower, you can see your reflections in the mirror and savor the image before you. “Mmmm, Christopher, you look so good stroking your cock,” you purr. A sweet whimper escapes his lips. “I love that I can’t even get my hand around you; that when you’re inside me, you fill me full,” you whisper in his ear, nibbling at the soft spot along his neck, continuing to apply pressure with each stroke. “Come for me, Christopher.”
The noises of his sexual release bounce off the tile walls. Your hand becomes slick with his seed and water. As the throbbing diminishes, he leans forward to rest his forehead on his arm. Your arms circle his heaving chest and you plant soft kisses on his back, waiting for his breathing to steady.
He turns to you smiling, water dripping from his plump bottom lip and he begins to sing again, “If I could, I would give you the world…”