Chris x OFC
Chris strays from his usual path and meets a woman different from anyone he’s been close with before… While doctoring her injury, he gets to know her better.
Warnings: NSFW, language, adult situations, oral sex, intercourse
Word Count: 5625
Running along the gravel road Chris is lost in his thoughts. Getting away from the craziness of life on set and crazy late night antics with his castmates was a good decision. A sign of maturity… Renting an old farmhouse in the country allows him to make a dent on the growing bucket list of things he wants to do with his life before he’s too damn old to enjoy them. However… Although he enjoys the quiet solitude, he misses basic companionship. Someone to talk to in the lazy early morning hours; someone to cuddle with at the end of stressful day; someone… Aware that his thoughts aren’t even really about sex, images of curves and soft skin fill his mind and he turns up the sound on his playlist to block out the noise in his head and increases his pace.
Coming over the crest of the hill, he wonders if he’s seeing things. A very female form is crouched down in the gravel. Continuing his easy strides, he pulls out his earbuds and readies himself to greet the other runner.
Feeling around for her phone, the sting of the gravel and cuts on her hands causing her eyes to tear. She hears the sound behind her, a steady footfall and crunch of stone and shell.
“Who’s there?” she calls out turning her body to the noise.
The sound skids to a halt. “Me? Chris?” His vocal cadence flusters. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I dropped my phone and can’t find it,” she huffs, still reaching around at her feet.
“It’s right here, behind you? How can you miss the bright green color?” he teases bending to pick up the phone and trying to be inconspicuous about looking down her sports tank top where she’s nearly spilling out..
“Oh, thank you!” Standing up she turns to face his direction. “Easy; I’m blind.”
“Oh, shit,” he whispers, taken aback at her response.
She laughs, “It’s okay; it’s not like it’s tattooed on my arm.” She gently rubs her hands together to brush off the loose gravel and hisses from the pain.
“Hey, you’re bleeding. That looks pretty bad. What happened?” He takes in her athletic form quickly, but doesn’t see any other scrapes or cuts.
“Is there are a rock or tree limb or something? I tripped.”
Chris sees the offending branch and kicks it out of the path. “Yeah, a branch. Must have fallen in the storm the other night.”
“I guess so. I ran my other route the last day or two.”
“But, you’re… how? How do you know where you’re going?” Fuckin’ idiot. His curiosity got the better of him, and he spit out the words before he could correctly form a sentence with a little more sensitivity towards her disability.
“I can see things in certain light. That’s why the phone is a bright color. It’s just too bright for me this afternoon to see anything.” She taps the edge of her dark wrap around sunglasses. “These aren’t just for fashion,” she laughs, shrugging her shoulders. “I just have a path I take. I know my way around and the neighbors know to watch out for me. You must be renting the Johnson’s old place; he said to expect traffic up and down the road.”
“Yea; listen, your hands do look- um…” Shit. Can you say ‘look’ to a blind person? “Your hands are bleeding and you might need help getting the little pieces of gravel out.” Feeling obligated to help, he thinks quick. “My rental isn’t far. You don’t know me; would you wanna wait here and I can go get my ride and take you home? It’s a truck; you could even sit in the back, if you wanted.”
“Nah, I think I’m good. Can I have my phone please?” Placing it gently in her delicate hand, he watches curiously as she slides her hands down the cord to find the earbud, rising to hold it to her ear. She listens for a few seconds before announcing, “I can make it back. I didn’t sprain anything. My hands caught my fall. I’m only about a mile and a half up, on the right.”
“How can you know that; how can you know where you are?” Again with the dumb questions, Evans?! Pretty sure she can’t see him, he face palms, shaking his head at his stupidity.
“My playlist. I figure I lost a song while looking for my phone and talking to you; and I can already feel my legs getting tight. But I will take you up on the offer to help clean my hands. I don’t want an infection and I can’t get to town to the clinic today for Sally over there to help. I’m guessing you must be in decent shape if you’ve already come up the hill from the Johnson’s. Can you make the next hill with me?”
“You really can’t see me, can you?” he asks, laughter in his voice. “Yea, I can make it up the hill to your place. The big old farmhouse, with the wrap around porch?”
“That’s the one! It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Before he can speak, she explains, “Like I said, I can see things in early morning light, but most of my sight is based on touch. Give me your arm.”
She reaches out her hand and he steps to her, offering his extremity to her. Feeling round his bicep, the attractive runner identifies a prominent vein running down his right arm. His blood pumps energetically from his run and she follows the raised protrusion down to his wrist. Her fingertips dance over the ridges there, turning his hand to touch his warmed palm briefly. She giggles, slightly breathless. “Yes. Definitely in shape. I think you can make the hill. Ready to get going?”
“Don’t you wanna know what I look like? Like in movies, how people feel bone structure and stuff?”
“Dude. You’ve been running. I can smell your pheromones.” Damn he smells good. “You’re sweaty from your run; I am not touching your face.” Laughing, she pulls her leg up behind her for a quick stretch. “Besides,” she begins to jog in place, “if you are half as cute as you sound, I’m not too worried, Bahstin.”
She takes off running and yells back, “Don’t watch too long before you decide to catch up.”
Just for that he does pause to watch her bounce away before joining her. “On your left,” he announces, and then has to stop himself from outright laughing. He keeps pace with her, looking over occasionally to watch the slight bounce of her tits. Shortly before reaching the house, she goes for an all out sprint and he races to catch up, finding her on the sidewalk in front of the beautiful old home, talking on the phone.
“Yeah, I just ran up the drive… No, I fell, but I’m fine… I’m only two songs behind Gram…. I should have known you’d be timing me….Just a scrape on my palms…. Right. I need to go inside now and clean them up, but I gotta stretch first.” As she talks, she tentatively reaches in front of her, and finding the low railing along the steps, she throws her leg up and leans over her it,stretching, sticking her ass out for Chris to admire. “I promise, I’ll let it air out before I bandage it… Gram. Gram. I am a grown woman. I’ve been on my own before. Just cause I moved back here doesn’t mean I need you watching me every day… I’m fine. Really… Really. I have to go. A friend is here for dinner… Yes… Okay? Thursday. Two o’clock? I can’t wait! Kisses, Gram. Bye.”
Chris watches as she stretches and grows hard as he concentrates on her lithe body moving through her motions. Damn; a feminine distraction wasn’t really how he intended his stay in the country to go, but a little admiration never hurt.
“Like what you see?” she laughed, motioning for him to follow her into the house.
“What? No. I wasn’t staring. I was stretching.” He’s almost grateful she can’t see the blush on his face or the hard-on he has in his pants.
“Uh- uh. I don’t believe you.” She giggles, opening the screen door. “So would you like to stay for dinner? It’s the least I can do since you’re being kind enough to help me clean my hands. Nothing fancy. Just a roast and potatoes in the crock pot.”
The aroma of the cooking food hit his gut the minute he stepped inside the comfortable farmhouse. His mouth starts to water, having lived on his sparse cooking for one during the last few days. “It smells amazing; sure. I’d love to stay.”
“I don’t make a habit of inviting strange men in. I was vague on the phone. Gram will call and check on me later,” she says, almost as a warning, leaning against the wall to pull off her shoes.
He throws his head back in laughter and steps on the heel of one shoe, pulling his foot out and kicking it out of her way before removing the other.
Following her into the living room, he watches as she lightly walks on her tip toes maneuvering through a maze of stacked books.
“This way,” she instructs. “The light in this guest bath will be better and there’s a first aid kit under the sink.”
He chases behind and bumps into a stack of books, knocking it over. He quickly rights the stack, embarrassed by his clumsiness quickly rubbing at his toe.
“Nice going. And I’m the blind one,” she teases. Biting back laughter, she wonders about this man she’s invited into her home. Lord, I know I prayed for someone to brighten my day, don’t let this be a cruel joke. He gives off a confident air, but she senses a loneliness to him and it calls out to the emptiness she finds within herself. He strikes her as charming and playful, but a bit awkward too; almost like a little boy still at heart. Like he spends his life playing pretend. He seems at ease with her but she feels her lack of sight throws him off balance, like he’s used to being on view..
“Fuck, that book was heavy.” He mumbles as he continues walking, taking in the eclectic decor of the home. He shakes his head at his clumsiness. Dude, pull it together.
“Braille.” She snickers. “Was it the stack by the standing lamp?”
Looking back over his shoulder, he replies, “Yeah, it was.”
“Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. It’s nine volumes. I just stack them because they kept breaking shelves in my old place. Here, they’re just part of the decor and I don’t have to listen to my ex complain,” she laughs. “Don’t sue if your toe is broken. You were the klutz who didn’t see where he was going.”
Focusing on the word ‘ex’ he smiles at the meaning behind the tidbit she’s just shared, wondering if it was for his benefit or just conversation. “Sure, ‘cause I’d want to tell someone I broke my toe when a Potter book landed on it,” he guffaws, a lyrical sound filling the room.
Turning towards his voice she pauses in the open space and grins warmly.. “It’s a small room. Why don’t you step in first and get the kit from under the sink?” she suggests, holding her arm towards the entrance.
Chris brushes past her and she feels his mass against her chest, realizing for the first time his full size and build. She senses a change in him, as he turns serious. “Ok. I may have been a klutz in the living room, but I promise I’ll be careful in here and with your hands. I’m gonna wash up first, okay?” He reaches under the counter and finds the first aid kit she mentioned. Looking around, he takes in other items needed to doctor her wounds. “I’m guessing I can use the towels hanging here?”
Stepping into the room behind him, she reaches out, touching the satin trim. “Yup, these are fine to use.”
As he washes up, he talks to her quietly and introduces himself again simply as ‘Chris,’ exchanging names and pleasantries. “So how long have you lived here?”
The two make small talk as he gently attends to the minor lacerations, tenderly flushing out the gravel with a water rinse.
“I’m kinda creating a shadow over your hand. Can you sit up on the counter so I can see better?” God damn, how many more references can I make to vision? He shakes his head, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Smirking, he scowls at his sweat stained face, smudged with dirt from the gravel road. He grabs another towel and cleans himself up a bit, just for his own sake, regardless of the fact she can’t see him.
“Sure. Um, I can’t really put pressure on my hands to climb up.” She sighs. “Can you lift me?”
Oh fuck. Chris looks at her curvy hips and doesn’t even worry about hiding his smug visage.
He pauses a second too long, holding his breath before responding. I swear, I’m not making excuses to touch her, he chides himself. But damn, those are some nice curves. “Alright, on the count of three, I’m gonna put my hands on your hips. Bounce and I’ll lift you up.”
With athletic acuity, she follows his directive and he sets her gently on the marbled counter top, her skin warm and damp from the late afternoon run. His hands briefly caress down her thighs before lifting away and he hears her breath catch. “Thanks,” she expresses quietly.
Exhaling to ease the pain as he continues cleaning her cuts, she is surrounded by his scent. She hadn’t been teasing about his pheromones; his manly aroma is nearly overpowering in the small space. Sweat, cologne and a woodsy smell greet her nose and laughter bubbles inside as she thinks about the Potter books he toppled over. Yeah. That would be my damn love potion. Battling to focus on his words, she does her best to ignore the rising heat his fragrance builds up from her inner core.
Continuing the small talk, Chris lets his eyes wander over her frame while he works. Whatever her job, it’s obvious she takes care of herself. Tight and toned, she has a dancer’s body and a sense of grace to her movements. Her skin has a sun-kissed look, and the flowers in front of the house give evidence to her working outside. Her delicate features are sprinkled with freckles and she wears no make-up to hide the slight imperfections to her skin. He wonders briefly about the small scar on her chin and smiles at the haphazardly cut row of bangs across her forehead.
Using tweezers to remove the larger pieces of gravel, he tries to distract her with chatter, never letting the conversation rest on him. He is surprised to look up and discover she’s removed her dark shades. Her eyes are a crystal clear blue, reminding him of a TV character he had a crush on when he was a young boy. She winces from the pain and tries to pull away, tears forming in her eyes. “Fuck, that hurt,” she whispers.
“I’m so sorry. I think that’s the last of the gravel,” he says caressing his thumb over the back of her hand as he inspects her palm closely. “Ok, you’re gonna hate this next part. But there was peroxide under the sink. I really think I need to clean the cuts with it. That shit always stings.”
“Damn,” she sighs. “I can’t get it infected; yea. Use it. If you have to,” she whines.
He holds her hand a bit tighter as she starts to pull away. “I didn’t even open the bottle yet. Why are you squirming?” he chuckles working to ignore the fact he’s grown hard as her toned legs have bumped against him from her movements.
She giggles. “Conditioning. My mother used to pour that on, no warning. It stings so bad.”
“I promise; I’ll fix it so it won’t sting.” She smells so nice; like lavender and her skin has a musky scent from her run. What was it she’d said about pheromones earlier? Just being near her calms him; he hasn’t met someone like her in a long time.
“Yup; that’s what she used to always say too. Don’t lie. It’s gonna hurt like a bitch,” she laughs. Chris’s mirth joins hers and he turns to hold her hand over the sink.
“I like the sound of your laugh,” she confides to him. “It’s vibrant and full of life. I think it tells a lot about who you are. Easy to be with…. I like that.”
Blushing, he simply states his thanks, but can’t think of a true response. There’s something so simple, so innocent about being with her knowing she can’t see him. Keying into her rising attraction as she leans closer to him, he realizes her pulse becomes more rapid with each slight touch of his hand against hers. Chris feels a sense of pride that it has nothing to do with his looks for a change.
“Ok, just hold your hand right like this, balanced on mine.” He holds her hand gently and begins to sprinkle the chemical over her open palm, leaning forward to gently blow across her skin, attempting to cool the heat as the medicine bubbles. He watches as goosebumps form on her arms, and he raises his eyes momentarily on level with her perfect tits, seeing that her nipples are straining against her sport bra, although sweat from their run still shines on her face. He struggles to control himself and grunts, “Other hand.”
He repeats the same actions and bites his lip when she involuntarily moans.
“Damn,” she sighs, her breath light. “That’s kinda sexy.”
Taking her wrist, he pulls her slowly to him, praying he read the signs right. “Uh-huh; it is,” he growls lowly the sound rumbling between them in the small room. Dragging his fingertips up her neck, he leans in for a kiss, pushing his hands in the loose hair falling from her bedraggled pony tail. Sighing quietly, she holds the injured hand out of the way, resting it on his shoulder. The fingertips of the other grasp across his chest, searching for the hem of his shirt and giving it an upwards tug. Oh, thank God…
“Really sexy,” she whispers, pulling away from the kiss before moving in for more. She struggles one handed to pull up his shirt, sticking to his body from perspiration. She moans in frustration. He reaches over behind his neck and tugs the collar of the shirt, separating his lips from hers for a brief moment before crashing back into her.
Replacing her arm over his shoulder, she lets her hand dangle over his back. With her other hand, she drags the back of her fingertips slowly over his chest ‘seeing’ every detail. Her fingers play with the tiny hairs across his belly as their kisses rise in need. Continuing her search, she stops at his Bardsley tat, skin slightly raised, and pulls back simply whispering against his plump bottom lip. “A tattoo?”
“Yeah; in memory of a good friend,” he explains, taking her mouth back in his,catching his bottom lip against her top one as his hands wrap around her back, growing with impatience as he slides them down to knead her ass in her tight yoga pants. Spreading her legs, he moves between them, his cock straining against his shorts, demanding attention. Her hand over his shoulder begins to explore as well and she discovers the chain of his medallion and gives it a tug, biting into his skin. She runs her finger down it until she reaches the charm, smoothing her fingers over the raised metal. “Saint Christopher? To protect you away from home?”
He nods yes, realizing she can’t see him. He moves from her mouth stating, “I travel a lot.” His lips return to her salty skin, kissing along her jawline and slowly alternating between kisses and bites until reaching her ear. “You smell so sweet,” he compliments.
She counters with, “You’re so solid.” Amazed by her own bold moves, she decides to just go with it. Chance encounters with men rarely happen in her life… Live a little; have some fun…
He chuckles gruffly, shifting his hard cock against her hot covered mound. “You could help with that?”
“I could,” she replies, her voice full of mirth. “I’m a little defenseless; I can’t really use my hands.” Pausing, she breathes out slowly, her voice low and seductive when it returns. “You could help me out of this damn bra.”
“You sure?” he asks, his hands already sliding up her back, running his fingers under the elastic band. His large hands tantalize, cupping around under the fabric, teasing at the sides of her breasts. He pulls his lips back, dropping his vision to watch her chest heave, her nipples growing hard again as he continues his light touch.
“I’m really injured. I may need help out of all my clothes,” she seduces. Why not?
Taking his cue, he slowly raises both her arms above her head, caressing back down her toned muscles, smiling when she giggles at his feathery touch. “All the clothes, huh?”
“Well, it’s the least you could do to help,” she slowly breathes out, leaning forward for another kiss before he pulls the clammy sports bra over her head, her rounded tits bouncing free, perky and high, a hint of a summer tan line still remaining. His sharp intake of breath at the sight brings a smile to her face. She blushes. “Admiring again?”
He grins back, nodding his head adamantly, free in the idea she can’t see him. “Fuck; I can’t take my eyes off you. Perfect.”
She giggles. “Look all you want; I don’t mind.”
Leaning forward again, declaring lowly “I think I’ll take a closer look then,” he closes his mouth over one of her pretty pink nipples, pushing his body against hers. She drops her arms over his back, feeling his smooth skin, trying to control her breathing.
Arching to him she scoots her bottom forward on the counter, wrapping her legs around his tapered hips. She locks her ankles behind his back gently tapping his ass with her heels with each sway of their bodies, his strong arms wrapped around her back.
Carefully moving a hand between them she makes her way round front to the waistband of his track shorts. Sweat pools and the garment is wet to her touch but she can feel his radiating heat; his covered cock twitching to be free. She is careful with her sore hand and Chris moves between them to relieve himself of the confines of his clothing and places his thick rod in her outstretched hand. Both sigh on contact, her hand gently holding him, squeezing and feeling his girth.
Chris releases her nipple with a tug, leaning away from her to watch her hands slide over him. Her fingertips trail along the prominent ridges to the base, gently brushing over his tightened balls and she smiles wickedly. “Everything about you seems big, huh?”
Chuckling, with no true response, he returns his hands to her hips, pulling her forward and she leans against his solid muscular frame. The shift lifts her ass from the counter and allows him to remove her remaining clothing in one swift movement. His fingers corner her V, massaging the crease where her legs meet her pussy, his thumbs dipping in her wet. Pushing the heel of his palms against her, she rolls her hips into his hands silently begging for him to touch her deeper. She tugs his hard rod, pulling him closer to her.
“I saw condoms under the counter?” he grunts.
“Uh-huh. I can’t help,” she holds her hands up. “Damaged? Remember?”
“That’s okay, honey, I think I got practice with that.” Balancing one strong hand on her thigh, he holds her in place on the counter, stepping out of his clothing pooled at his ankles before crouching down to grab one of the condoms.
From his position he is right at the perfect height to provide her some oral satisfaction. Pushing her legs further apart, she straddles over the front of the counter and opens her wide to see her swollen lips, dripping with her desire. With no warning, he leans forward and laps at her sweet nectar.
“Oh, fuck,” she cries out in surprise, hitting her fist against her thigh, feeling for the top of his head before winding her hands in his hair, tugging at the short ends. “Damn, warn a girl,” she mocks, feeling the soft hair between her fingers, ignoring the pain in her battered hands.
He only mumbles against her cunt, his tongue continuing its work. Flicking down each side of her walls, he nibbles and sucks along the way, holding his hands against her tight thighs and massaging her toned flesh. He wraps around her delicate button, tugging and pulling with his teeth gently.
“Hey there, Bahstin soldier boy, it’s been a while for me; take it easy. I don’t wanna come too quick.”
Her words catch him off guard. He pulls back, completing a long lick. “Soldier? Why’d you say that?” He’s curious about her word choice, wondering if she somehow knows who he is, but not enough to break the moment. He uses one hand to continue to drag though the additional juices he’s created in her.
She runs the tips of her fingers over his hair again, looking down but not really seeing him, twisting to push her throbbing cunt against his hand. “Fresh shave, short hair, built like a fuckin’ brick wall… Gotta be military or something, cause your body is just ridiculous.”
He joins in her laughter, relaxing again with the thought she has no idea who he is or what he looks like; it’s a freeing notion. Standing to full height again, he continues pumping his hand in and out of her hot box, bringing the other to clutch at her breast. She drops her head and it rolls to the side, lost in the ecstasy he provides, stretching her neck gracefully, exposing her tender flesh. His lips call and he has a desire to cover her in hickeys. Dropping his mouth to her skin, he tastes again the salty sweat and dust from the run along the gravel road. He washes over her skin before grasping with his teeth and bearing down momentarily. He releases with a pop satisfied with the beginning of a mark to add to later.
“Hey, just because I can’t see it doesn’t mean others won’t. Can’t really wear a scarf to water aerobics tomorrow,” she ribs, pushing him away playfully with the back of her hand before sliding her hand up his bicep across his strapping shoulder to wrap around his neck. She pulls him forward and commands huskily, “Do it again.”
He laughs at her playfulness and obliges in her desire, his mouth and hands creating a rising need, teasing them both by dragging his stiff rod against her thighs, building his own longing as he attends to hers, this beautiful stranger. As her whimpers become louder and fraught with a tinge of pain, he releases his hold to roll the condom on, not worrying about creating a show of it. He is surprised when one of her hands drops to his and she trails her fingertips over his hand, running from base to tip as he snaps the latex in place. “Beautiful,” she whispers. “I bet you’re simply beautiful.”
Lifting one of her legs over his arm, he smiles as she drags her fingertips through her own mess and wipes down the length of his covered cock. Wrapping her other leg around him, she pulls him close and he lines up to enter her, sinking deep inside. Making no effort to move, her held breath audibly indicates to him she needs time to adjust to his size.
“God, you’re fuckin’ tight,” he favors. “You feel so good on my cock,” complimenting as he slowly begins to push in and out of her. The sound of slapping flesh, her squishy wetness and quiet whimpers from them both fill the room.
Her head drops to his shoulder and she bites down on the sinewy tissue between her teeth. Cantoring against his supple skin, she confides, “Fuck, Bahstin, those noises turn me on.” Running her tongue over his flesh, she bites again, calling forth a yelp from his lips. “Like that,” she smiles, her lips upturned sinfully.
Maintaining his hold on her, he picks her up from the counter, turning to push her against the wall behind them in the close space. It begins to dawn on him that she needs to hear their lovemaking, as she can’t see it. Shifting her higher in his arms, he moans loudly aiding her auditory need as her nipples drag against his chest. Feverishly he pulls her down on his rigid cock, her foot hitting against the small of his back. Fucking her against the wall, their movements rattle the hanging picture frames and his breath catches with each fervid thrust.
“Hell, yes,” she sighs, falling into a heavenly cacophony of sounds, bringing her to the edge of a release in ways she didn’t think were possible. As her utterances grow in volume, his growls follow suit, a torrent of noise enveloping her.
Her body tenses as he pushes her against the wall again, so powerfully she can barely breath. Her fingernails dig into the flesh on his broad shoulder and bicep, ignoring the pain in her hands. Cries of pleasure and want urge him to continue, pumping faster as he thrusts up harder, pushing deeper into her sweet hole. “Fuck, babe, I’m close. Can you come first?” He rumbles in her ear, his breath hot against her skin, leaving a trace of his sweat on her neck. The resonance of his voice rolls through her, creating the tightening in her belly she craves.
“Uh-huh, yea; almost,” she whines, her mewls lustful and needy, adding to Chris’s devotion as well.
As their mouths meet to capture one another’s sounds, he moves away from the wall, releasing his grip under her briefly to smack her ass. As the sting burns her behind, the timbre echoes in the room. The noise itself tilts her over the edge as she falls, bouncing against his cock, crying out, “God, yes; I’m coming, I’m coming.”
With her pussy bearing down on him, he thrusts upward a few more times before he spills, filling the condom full. Knees weakening, he spins to sit her back down on the counter, wrapping his arms tightly around her as he silently enjoys his release, burying his head in the crook of her neck, lips tenderly against her skin; elated to be connected with someone again.
Her heart pounds loudly in her ears, as does his labored breathing. The sensation of being well used makes her smile as she draws her hands across his broad muscular back. She’d forgotten how much she’d missed the contact of a man and indulges in this quiet time together.
She hears him rattling around the bathroom and the snap of the condom. She can’t wipe the smile off her face as she follows his sound, imagining what he might truly look like, hoping she might have the opportunity sometime to see him in the right light. His presence halts and his fingertips grace under her chin, lifting her head up. His contented sigh speaks volumes to her well-tuned ears. “We should probably wash those cuts again?” he suggests, cautiously taking her hands in his and rinsing them again. He also uses a wash cloth to clean over her mound, caring to clean the delightful mess he made of her.
Wrapping a towel around her, he lifts her and carries her from the counter. “You gotta be sore from the hard surface? I’ll massage you down; I promise,” he vows, resting his forehead to hers. Stepping into the living room, buck naked, he pauses. He looks to her innocent face and laughs, “Where am I taking you?”
“Depends on what you have in mind?” she asks quietly, the cocoon of the bathroom broken. Not sure what to expect next; never having had sex with a random stranger in her bathroom before, she doesn’t know what to say.
Chris hears the insecurity in her voice and isn’t quite sure of himself either, so he says the first thought that comes to mind. “A hot shower, from our run and other… activities.” He cocks his eyebrow, but realizes this winning gesture is lost on her. What a challenge she could be! He ponders momentarily. None of my visual tricks would work… Shifting back to the now, he completes his thought. “Then that pot roast. It smells amazing. And maybe round two before breakfast in the morning? I have some work to attend to tomorrow, but I could be back in time for another evening run?”
“I like the sound of that plan, Bahstin. The master bath is up the stairs… What kinda work you got?”
Sweetly kissing the top of her head, he replies cheekily, “Oh, you know, just saving the world, fighting off bad guys; nothing serious.”
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