Unseen Passions

Unseen passions.jpg

Unseen Passions

By avenger-nerd-mom

Chris x OFC

ONE-SHOT

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.

cute.gif

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.

hugs veins.gif

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.”

Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

 

Bringing Sunshine to Boston

brining Sunshine to Boston August 29 2016

Bringing Sunshine to Boston

A Sunshine Story

By avenger-nerd-mom

Chris X plus size OFC Sunshine

Actor Chris Evans brings his girlfriend “Sunshine” to Boston to meet the family, but they make a quick stop at his house first

Warnings: NSFW, Language, Adult Situations, Oral Sex, Restraints, Fingering, Nipple Play, Rough Sex, Intercourse, Aftercare

Word Count: 2979

Chris nervously unlocks the front door.  “Ok now, honey, don’t judge.” He chuckles as he reaches in to turn on the lights.  “This place needs a make-over too, but you know I really don’t care.  I probably wouldn’t even have hired you in the first place if it wasn’t for that stupid magazine article.”

“Really selling me on it, dear.  Move. Let me see how bad it is,” I push him aside and step into Chris’s Boston home.  We’ve got a few hours to kill before meeting his family at his mother’s house for dinner and due to… events on the morning plane ride, we both need to freshen up.

Chris laughs and says, “Be my guest.” He carries our bags in from the porch as I walk from room to room.  Cream. Very little color. Few personal accents.  I can’t believe what I see.  It makes me really sad for him.  After a quick survey of the ground floor I meet him at the steps.  His blue and white baseball jersey t-shirt is the most colorful thing present in the foyer.

“Damn, honey.  You live here right?  I thought Boston was home and would be different,” I shake my head sadly.

Confused, Chris raises his eyebrow.  “What? It’s nice, right? Minimalist? Clean lines?”

I put my hand over his beating heart on his solid chest.  “Christopher, it looks like Ikea threw up in here and it has no personality.  Where are you?  Where’s your heart in it? Things you love?” I look around the open space and physically cringe.  “I really thought LA was just your show place, and this would really be you.  Earthy, dark woods, leather. Color. Something.  What the fuck, babe? I just wanna rush to the nearest hardware store and get buckets of paint.”

Leaning against the rail, Chris seems a little crushed.  “I really thought you’d like it.”

I lean into him, caressing my hand across the prickly beard on his cheek.  “Oh, pet, don’t get me wrong.  I love the windows, and the natural light.  It is nice and streamlined, but it’s not what I expected from you.  This is just another showcase house.  Where do you get to really be you?”

#

The bedroom is an improvement, definitely more of what I was hoping to see.  Hanging in beautiful frames are enlarged photos he tells me he took himself of his spiritual trip to India a few years ago.  The taupe colored walls are accented by the large four poster bed.   And covered in decorative pillows.  There must be twenty.  Throwing them all to the floor, I wait for him to finish his shower.

I admire his personal effects on the oak shelves surrounding the bed, photos of close friends and family, mementos of his travels courtesy of Marvel.  Smiling, I drag my fingertips over dusty framed pieces of artwork, a collection of Cap that younger children have obviously given to him over the years.  The types of things he should have on display through the whole house.  

I settle down among the pillows and wait. He’s taking forever.  When the bathroom door opens I can hear him step into the room, but I know he can’t see me on the floor, over the height of the bed.

“Sunshine?” he asks quizzically.

Popping up on my knees, only my head is visible to him over the top of the fluffy down comforter.  My breath catches at the sight of him in just a towel, wrapped low on his waist.

london towel

Drops of water still bead in his chest hair and his short summer haircut sticks up in all directions.  In the dim light with the shades drawn, the black ink on his skin appears sinister and a chill runs down my spine. A heat rushes to my core and I’m instantly ready for however he wants to spend the afternoon.  After I get what I want.   Patting the padded surface, my voice is flirtatious and sultry.  “Why don’t you come around here, big boy?”

A smile breaks across his face. “What’d you do with all the pillows?” he asks.

“You’ll see.”

Watching him step around the edge of the bed, he surveys the mountain of pillows underneath and surrounding my naked figure and he chuckles.

“Well, hello beautiful,” he whistles between his teeth.  I adore that he says he loves my plump curves, that my love handles are just more of me for him to hold on to when we make love. And when he responds that way, I believe him.

“Your ass just begs for a spanking.”

I can see he’s already sprung to attention, wondering what I have in mind.

Patting the bed again, I drop my arm to open a space for him to move in front of me, to sit on the bed.  He sits naturally, resting one hand on his thigh, spreading his legs, smiling when I lick my lips and reach my hand up under the towel.  My hand wraps around his warm cock, heated from the shower.  With a few tight grasps and squeezes, he grows harder at my attentions.  “Mmm… Big boy is exactly right,” I murmur, reaching with my other hand to pull the towel lose.

Chris leans back on his hands, taking a deep breath of contentment as I brush my full lips across his head.  I tease him a bit, toying with him as I simply run his head back and forth over my closed mouth, my tongue occasionally darting out to lick his soft velvety skin.

That action elicits a groan from the back of his throat. “Babe, you’re teasing.”

My lips kiss down the side of his shaft, wet and sloppy, humming,  “Mmm- hmm.  Just like you teased me on the plane.”

Chuckling, his head drops forward to his chest to watch.  “I finally let you come,” he reminds me, his voice lust filled as he grows under my touch.

Kissing back up the other side, adding the intermittent nibble, I respond,  “Uh-huh, after edging me four times…”

“Was it only four? Yea, don’t do that to me,” he snickers.  “I fuckin’ hate it.”

His words sound distant to my ears as I focus on doing what I love best; making my man melt.  Bringing my luscious opening over the top of his head, I pull him in, taking his swollen tip into my hot, wet mouth. My lips wrap around the sweet bell, skimming my teeth just slighting and dragging my manicured fingertips up his thighs.  He lets out a quiet hiss as my thumbs massage at the space between his legs, gently applying pressure under his balls, soft and tender.

Stroking my tongue across his slit, I savor the taste of him on my tongue.  With each advance I take more of him in slowly.  Titling my head back, I watch his response.  I pull off, teasing “Hmm… you’d hate that would you?”

“Fuck,” he growls, realizing he’s unwittingly given me a challenge.

His eyes lock on mine as I confidently pull him back inside my cherished oral space, my lips flush against his shaft, sliding up and down as my hands continue their tease.

He slides forward on the bed pushing into my mouth with a thrust.  His pupils dilate and the sea of blue is lost as his need clouds his vision.

My hands extend their roaming, my thumbs dipping between his ass cheeks and flitting across his rim in a stimulating rhythmic pattern.  His groan stirs my gut and I become aware of the pooling of juices inside my pussy,  waiting for my turn.  My eyes close as I continue my task, sloppily sucking him, pulling him close to his desired end.  He shifts as he sits up, winding his hands in my hair, holding me firmly on his cock.  I struggle against him and he grasps tighter. Clenching my jaw at his force, I dig my teeth slightly into his flesh,my tongue lapping against his hard cock as he holds me firmly.

“No biting,” he warns, pulling my hair tight, tilting my head back to look up at him.

My mouth releases it’s steady hold around his cock into a knowing smile, but I can’t comment back at the moment.  He uses his grip to hold me in place as he lifts his hips and thrusts into my mouth, repeating the rough action several times until my eyes water.  Nearly reaching his limits, he pulls out and pushes me onto my back into the pile of pillows.

“Maybe they’re good for something after all,” he bitches about the pillows as he falls to the floor next to me, leaning on his elbow.  With one hand between my thick thighs and the other grasping my ample breast he starts to work me over.  Pulling one of my tits to his mouth, he sucks in quickly and grasps my nipple between his teeth.  A shocked cry escapes my lips as he also penetrates between my folds with two fingers, pushing hard to find the magic spot. “You like being teased; you’re still wet,” he praises.

My hands reach for his cock but he pushes one out of the way, bringing it above my head and holding it down firmly.  Fingering me roughly he continues to suckle at my breast as I pull and tug on his hard rod.  I raise my ass off the floor to push harder into his hand, wanting more than he’s already giving.  Gyrating against him, he slides another finger in.  Happy with his acceptance of my silent directions, I drop my ass back to the floor and raise my feet up on the bed behind him.  He continues to finger me, turning his hand so his palm brushes against my clit with each drive.   The pressure causes me a flash of pain, changing the sounds of my moans. He looks up from my tit, but through gritted teeth I tell him not to stop.

His grip on my wrist is stronger as he moves to take the other nipple between his teeth.  My free hand holds his balls, carefully yanking and rolling between my fingers.  He knows if he gets too rough, I won’t go easy on him and I snort with laughter at the thought.  He laughs at me, probably having no idea why I’m amused during our sex. His deep baritone sound vibrates through me and a searing heat hits me in the middle. He continues to palm me. Thrusting in with his beautiful fingers, he curves them in, a master at finding the perfect spot, until I can feel the tightening in my core.

Sensing it too, he changes his position.  I hear the crinkle of the condom package and briefly wonder where he pulled that from. Under the bed? He moves quickly to climb over top of me and slams into me hard, forcing the air from my lungs.  With my feet up on the bed, I push back against him grinding with him. “Fuck me,” I whisper.

His sinfully delicious smile lights up his face. “Want it rougher?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

He moves my other hand up binding them both together now under his, holding me still, as if I’d fight him.  With his other hand, he claws at my fleshy hip, pulling out his thick, satisfying cock.  Each drive feels deeper than the one before, the thrusts moving me off the pillows till I’m on the floor.  I can feel rug burns starting on my ass. And I love every goddamn minute.  I wrap my legs around his slim waist, holding him to me, rocking my hips up to meet each pounding exertion.

I’m so turned on by this man and the love he gives me.  His strength and power.  I love his weight on me, making me for once feel small and dainty.  With his cocky damn eyebrow he smirks at me with each stroke.  “Kiss me, “ I breathe out, needing him to tear into me and finish it.  I can’t bear the tease any more.  “Take me; slam it.”

His mouth hungrily meets my primed lips, brushing his nose against mine.  I love how tactile he is, gentle even when he’s rough.  Eventually we should say those three damn words.  He pushes my wrists into the floor and I know to keep them there.  He supports himself over me with one beautiful bicep in my line of sight as his other hand lifts under my ass, melding us even closer together. Each spot where our bodies connect sends messages of pleasure through the rest of my body.

Screaming out as the orgasm rips through me, I feel our energies join as one.  My mind is filled with nonsense that is incomprehensible, and I love he does that to me.  Totally incoherent thoughts. Wanting to shout out ‘love, love, love.’

After several more forceful invasions with his greedy cock, Chris’s body tenses as he comes, his fingers possessively digging into my beautiful fat ass. Undeniably his favorite feature!  With a sigh, he collapses on top of me, nuzzling into my neck.  Our breaths match one another and slowly we still, returning to a calm.  I wrap my arms around him, feeling his weight on me, laughing when he flips us over and he hits his head on the dresser.  “Fuckin’ meatball,” he mutters irritably.

cuddles 5

His hands roam over my back and brush over my ass. The carpet burns sting and I hiss at his touch. “Shit, babe, I’m sorry, I-”

“I’m not. Stop. You fuck me so well; don’t ever apologize,” I clearly state, making sure he both hears and understands

“Christopher, I love the way you make me feel; I like the pain mixed with the pleasure. It’s hot as fuck, so don’t you dare apologize.”

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckles, arranging one of the pillows under his head as I snuggle up to his side.  He raises his arm so we both can see his watch. “Time for a nap before we clean up again to go to Mom’s?”

I run my fingers over his soft chest hairs, tweaking his nipple, watching him tickle his lower lip with his mustache. “Or we could go buy paint?”

“What? You were serious?” He shifts and raises up my chin so he can see my face better. “It’s that bad? You really don’t like it?”

Oh, shit. I can see the hurt on his face.  After getting pounded to the floor, literally, my body aches. Sitting up to stretch I pull a pillow to me, stuffing it under my ass to provide cushion as I sit.  I wince as my broken skin makes contact with the textured fabric.

“You’re moving slow to think about what to say,” Chris infers as he also sits up and reaches over to open a bottom drawer, pulling out a small bottle of aloe.  He motions for me to lay across his lap and prepares to apply the soothing ointment to my small injuries.

Gasping as the cool creme makes contact with the heated skin, I whisper. “Oh God, that feels heavenly.  Mmm,mmm… thank you, baby.” I lay for a moment, enjoying his tender care.  “Christopher, I know what to say, I just don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

His hands knead the flesh and caress down my thighs as well, getting lost in his admiration of my full figure.  God bless this boy.  

“I’m a grown man; I can take it.”  His voice indicates he is distracted by the movement of his hands over my ass, and that he really doesn’t care about the house, but about my opinion of the house.

Leaning over he kisses the colorful tat of a four leaf clover on my left ass cheek, gently blowing across my skin, cooling the damaged areas. A chill runs up my spine at the gentle and loving aftercare he gives. So good to me always, in all ways.

Sighing, I start to list the things my decorator’s eye wants to fix.  “It’s not horrible: I would actually design this for someone else… But not for you.” I rub my fingers through the hairs on his thigh under me, wanting contact with him while I deliver the hard truth.  “It’s cold, it’s unwelcoming, it’s bland.  There’s no color.  That’s not who you are.  I saw the gym as we came up here.  It has more personality than the downstairs!  This room? This room is amazing!  Baby, this room is you.  The rest of the house should look like this.. Little pieces of you, your family and your career scattered everywhere.  Fun and playful, like you.”  I twist to look at him and see my words hit home.

He raises his eyebrow, and slowly nods his head.  “And how much is this going to cost me?” He laughs.  “Shit!  Are more goddamn decorator pillows involved?”

“No more pillows. I swear.  I can re-use these.”  I rise to my feet, and reach out to pull him up next to me. I love the feel of his rock solid chest against my soft full tits.  “I just hate that the house doesn’t reflect your warmth, charm and personality.  If you mean it, I can actually rework a lot of this with some paint, fabric… oh, and we’ll need-”

“Shhh.”  Laughing, he reaches his hands to cup my face, his eyes searching mine. Before kissing me, he caresses his beard against the side of my face and I lick my lips in anticipation of his plump lips meeting mine.

“Maybe Boston seems cold because it didn’t have my own personal Sunshine in it until now.” His smile lights up his face and my heart just melts as he leans in to kiss the tip of my nose. His hot breath brushes across my skin as he whispers, “What colors do you suggest, babe?”

Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

Last Night

Last Night August 19 2016

Last Night

An Emery & Chris story

*a Chris Evans fan fic*

By avenger-nerd-mom

Chris and Emery share a rushed night together before he has to leave

Warnings: NSFW, language, adult situations, oral sex, anal fingering, intercourse

Word Count 2316

He chuckles when she enters the room, cocking her eyebrow at him.  He can almost read her mind; wondering how he beat her to the room. She locks the door behind her. He smiles at the vision of his fiancee in her black leather boots as she quickly removes her sweater and plaid wool skirt, leaving her in only a gray lace panty and bra set. She starts to unzip the boots and he growls, “Leave them on.”

He can read the look on her face, knows she wants to retort that they are wet from the snow, but she keeps silent.  Emery sighs, scuffing her feet across the carpet as she walks over to the bed. “You have to leave soon,” she complains, throwing the comforter back and away from his body, smiling at his thick rod waiting for her.

Chris watches her quietly with a smirk as she crawls up the bed and over him, one knee between his thigh and the other straddling his leg.  He flinches when the cold metal zipper of her boot hits his warmed skin. Placing her arms on either side of his head, she drags her full covered tits across his muscled chest.  Her body is chilled from the winter night as he winds his fingers in the tail of her french braid and pulls her down to meet his mouth, wishing to warm her quickly.

As his tongue teases along her lips he raises his leg just a bit, offering her support to grind against him.  She accepts his invitation and Emery’s ample hips begin a light dance, a slow pulse against his firm solid form.  As his mouth passionately works over hers, he can feel her wet begin to seep through her panties as her grinding becomes more forceful and between kisses a moan escapes her lips. Their kisses build in a hurried frenzy, both knowing they are trying to beat the clock.  “I know, but you promised me,” he teases.

yes.gif

His hands race down the supple skin of her back, reaching to undo her bra with a flick of his wrist.

“Hey, now, what are you doing?” she asks, toying with him. “We don’t have time for that!”

“I still want something to play with,” he laughs, pulling down on her back, bringing her tits to his face. He pulls one of her pretty pink nipples in between his teeth, lightly biting down and flicking his tongue over the peak. Chris moans quietly along with her quick exhale of breath.  “It’s been too long, kitten.”

“I know, jelly bean, I know,” she concurs, raising a hand to brush over one of his lush eyebrows.

He laughs again at her newest nickname for him, something she read on social media a few months back that seemed to stick with her.  His mouth continues his assault on her beautifully rounded breasts, kissing quickly along the valley and up the slope to the next peak, enthusiastically moving to capture the other one in his mouth.  Her grinding against his leg continues and her breathing intensifies, before suddenly pulling away from his mouth and hopping off.

The saucy red-head giggles at his groan of disappointment. Quickly flipping around on the bed, she takes him, somewhat soft, into her hot, wet mouth.  Controlling himself, he grasps the sheets on either side.  Her task is easier for his petite love if he stays malleable for just a few brief moments.

Her tongue works lovingly around his cock, swirling around him, caressing the veiny ridges with her tongue.  Slightly limp, she can take more of him in her mouth and enjoys the sweet pull up as she pumps him, quickly sliding back down.  She knows Chris can only handle three or four repetitions of that particular maneuver and her ass in his face isn’t helping his restraint.  His hands grip tightly to her leather-clad calves. Her confidence surges at his choked, “Fuck me now, Em. Use your mouth.”

Bringing him to full rise, she can’t handle all of him in her tiny mouth.  Her tongue caresses the tip, teasing at his slit with her tongue, lapping up his sweet pre-cum.  She sucks down as much of his thick shaft as she can, and plays out her own little pattern of teasing, sucking and licking.

The sound of the zipper fills the room as he removes her boots, tossing them to the other side of the bed before sliding his hands over the lace covering her ass.  He holds and squeezes her fine curves. Between the apex of her legs, he drags his fingers along the pretty lace trim, running his thumbs just under the elastic, caressing her silky smooth skin hidden underneath.  Emery’s moan of pleasure vibrates against his cock, causing him to twitch and jolt in her mouth. She pulls back briefly, rubbing at her sore jaw before diving back on his ready cock. Her position allows him to watch as she bobs up and down on him, a sweet sway to her ass with each pump.  Chris’s visions are on overload and he won’t last much more.

His dominant hand pushes the lace aside, revealing the perfect split between her cheeks and his fingers tease along the divide. He knows he can’t stay and hates to speed along her well-developed oral talents, but there’s not time for play tonight. He reaches in for her newly discovered overdrive button. The long summer break gave them opportunities to try new things, for him to be her teacher, at least in the bedroom.  The pleasure she gets from having her ass played with is something he definitely intends to encourage in the very near future. His fingertip graces over her muscled rim, gently providing a push and her primal groan echoes through the room. He chuckles as she swallows him deeper while pushing back with her ass, silently and involuntarily asking for more.

Her mouth continues her work, adding a glide with her hands, using her salivating wet to aid her. She pulls and tugs, wrapping her mouth around him, focused on the pleasure she wants to give him as her mind races at the feel of his touch.  She wants him and wants to be everything he will ever need and more. He’s taught her well and she loves the way her body sings under his touch, exploring new heights she’s never known.  As his thumb gently slides in her tight hole, she can’t wait to share more uncharted sexual experiences with him.

His touch and caress on her ass, feeling gently inside her hole before she pushes him out has her pussy dripping and wanting more.  She needs him; needs the man who makes her whole and who makes her complete. She hates knowing he has to leave soon, that he can’t stay the night.  She looks up to see the clock reflected in the mirror and smiles to herself.  She pumps him a bit more, bringing him closer to his edge.  His throaty whines fill her ears and his thumb moves in and out of her asshole faster, demonstrating the moves he longs to give to her.  Soon.

Feeling him ready to tip, Emery pulls off with a pop, dragging her tongue around the taut head of his cock. Quickly and much to his surprise, she spins her body around and moves the lace aside, pushing herself down on his throbbing dick. “You cheater!  You promised a blow job! You said we-” she cuts him off with a kiss, biting at his lip as she grinds down on him then slowly pulls herself up.

As she hovers above him, readying herself to impale again, she detaches her lips from his, and says, “Look at the time.  It’s okay, but you do have to leave soon.”

Looking at the clock Chris chuckles, clutching her hips and pushing her back down onto his waiting shaft, filling her full the only way he can. Her walls tighten and squeeze around him. “You tease! You still owe me a blowjob.”  He accentuates his comment with a thrust up of his hips, pushing into her deeper.

“Maybe the next time I see you then,” she whispers into his ear, biting at his neck as he pulls her ass down tighter against him, pushing her pussy against his cock.

He lets out a yelp at the pressure on his neck. “No hickeys! They can’t be on camera.” He pushes her off his neck when she attacks again. “You vampire,” he teases.  “Next time, huh? I might hold you to that.”

She giggles again, lowering her bites along the Tolle tattoo gracing his collarbone. Her hand rubs over his beard, soft yet not as full as he normally wears it.  Gifted beard.  Light. Just like she likes it, reminding her of when they first met.

Chris raises his knees, his feet flat on the bed, causing just the shift she needs as she arches her back, raising up from his chest as she comes forcefully. He lifts his head to catch her swaying breast in his mouth, muffling his own cry as he comes just as strongly after her release. They ride out the wave of relief together.

She collapses on top of him, sticky with his cum and their sweat. His fingers tenderly pull her braid loose, shaking out her amber waves, tickling his own chest with her silky strands.  He loves the way she fits perfectly against him as she falls to his side and snuggles under his arm.  He twines his fingers together with hers, rested gently on his hip.

“Want me to start you a bath before I leave?” His lips brush against her temple.

Sighing contentedly, Emery replies, “No, thanks. The next few days are crazy.  I just wanna try to get some sleep.”

He turns his head to look at the clock on the bedside table, knowing he doesn’t have much time remaining. “Did I ever tell you? The first time we took a bath together, I thought you were trying to cook me?” He chuckles at the memory.  “God, you had the water so hot, I thought I was going to die; like my skin was going to melt off.”

“You never told me that!” She laughs.  “Good to know we still have things to learn about each other.”

“Yeah, like you’re a liar.”

“How did I lie? You’ve been begging for sex for weeks, and we’re finally together. I know you wanted a blow job, but you got a little extra.”  She turns her head to kiss the side of his chest.  “I don’t see that as ‘lying.’”

“Women don’t understand the male mind,” he huffs. “It’s a different kind of release; and you said-”

“I know what I said, but I didn’t lie.” She sits up, playfully pushing him, looking over at the clock.  “I guess next time you have to clarify how you wish to finish. I’m good, we both got off, and no promises were broken.”

He grins at the defiant look on her face.  He sits up, reaching down to gather his clothes from the floor.  He stands to slide his Calvin’s all the way up.  Before he can tug them over the curve of his ass, she leans over and bites it quickly before settling back down under the blankets.

“I hate that I have to go,” he complains, pulling his jeans up. “I can make other plans? Leave early in the morning?”

She hands him his phone that was hidden among the tangled blankets. “No. We both need rest. You need to go.”

Sliding his button down shirt across his back, he puts his arms through the sleeves, leaving the shirt to hang open.  She hisses, “Damn, you look fine, boy.”

He shakes his head at her Southern drawl. Placing a knee on the bed, he leans over to kiss her forehead.  “The next time I see you, it’ll be really crowded.  How will I find you?” he asks curiously.

“I’ll be the one in the white dress.” The grin on her face is priceless. Every ounce of her being beams with love.

His heart explodes.  “Emery, we’re getting married tomorrow.”  His voice is filled with awe at the words he never thought he would say.  Until I found her.

His face says it all.  Her heart knows it’s forever.  “Fuck yeah, we are.  You’re stuck with me.”

“A red-headed, math nerd, cosplayin’,  Southern Belle, liar.”

She chucks a pillow at his head.  “Rather be a liar than a damn Yankee… Explain to me again exactly how I lied?”

Chris gathers his shoes and reaches for his keys. Hopefully at this hour no one will see the groom make his walk of shame to his private suite on the other side of the inn.  He’s not buttoning up and going barefoot.  “You said no sex till after we were married.”

“Christopher Robert Evans, you need to start listening better.  I said no sex till our wedding day.  I clearly timed myself to come after midnight.”  She stifles a yawn, her eyelids fluttering as she fights sleep, wanting to talk to her man, to defend her honor.  “I did not cheat or lie.  Are you gonna tell everyone that? Because bragging about your exploits with your girlfriend is one thing, but today, I become your wife. That’s different, pal.”

He reaches out to her one last time before leaving, “I love the sound of that.  Wife.  I just love you needed to fuck as badly as I did… I love you kitten.  Thanks for a perfectly enjoyable ‘last night’ as a single man.”

“Oh, honey, just think of all the fun married nights we’ll have!”

“Is that a promise too?” he whispers, stepping out the door, and pulling it tight behind him, knowing she’ll be asleep before he even gets back to his room.

Click here for the next Emery&Chris story, Snapshots: Scenes from a Wedding

Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

Brownie Batter

brownie batter cover aug 8 2016

Brownie Batter

Part 2 of Summer Vacation

A Mrs. Evans Story

*a Chris Evans fan fic*

By avenger-nerd-mom

Future Chris and his wife enjoy some time alone in the RV

Warnings: NSFW, language, adult situations, food play, analingus, fingering, penetrative sex

Word Count: 2207

Part 1- Summer Vacation

Summer 2034

Humming a little tune, I stir the brownie batter and whip it as smoothly as I can, missing my stand mixer and some of the other comforts of home. I smile to myself when the door to the RV flies open then shut, and Chris curses when the door won’t latch.  I look over my shoulder at him, laughing.  “You’re gonna have to get that fixed.  You keep telling the kids not to slam it so it won’t break and you’re the jackass that broke it.”

He sighs deeply and rolls his eyes.  I turn back to my task of mixing and he comes behind me, pushing my hips against the counter, his cock already hard and pressing against my ass.

“I thought we ordered pizza so there wouldn’t be any dishes to clean.  Why are you baking brownies?” he asks, brushing my hair over my shoulder and nibbling my neck.

“I wanted the batter.  I needed something chocolate and sweet.”

“I got something sweet for you,” he suggests as he pushes against me again, his hand coming up to cup under my breast.  Noting the lack of bra, he asks, “You showered?”

“Yup,” I reply, looking over my shoulder at him.  “All ready to watch a movie and hang out with you till the kids get back.”

Chris reaches his other hand over my shoulder and dips his finger into the batter.  He pulls it up and the chocolate gooey mess drips from his fingers as he brings it to my mouth.  A glob lands on my chest right above the lace trim of my tank top.  He turns me slightly in his arms and eyes it lustfully.  Diving to lick it away, a wicked grin graces his face as he raises his cocky eyebrow at me.  My breath catches, and my nipples harden at his touch, straining against the thin fabric of my top. “Damn, I still fall for that eyebrow,” I laugh, caressing it with my thumb.

“Still got it, babe.” Winking, he places his finger in my open mouth, wanting to share with me.  My tongue wraps around his finger as my mouth closes on him, sucking the chocolate from his warm skin. I savor the flavor and tease my tongue on the lightly calloused pad of his finger tip.  I giggle as he pulls his finger lose, scraping against my teeth as his body shakes from a slight chill, his reaction to my tease.

Dipping his finger back in the batter, he moans quietly, “My turn.  I wanna taste some.”  He drags his fingertips across the top of my shoulder, the chocolate covered finger held out of the way as he moves the spaghetti strap down my arm before smearing the chocolate down the side of my neck.

“Aw, Chris, now I’m gonna be a sticky mess!” I fuss, secretly pleased with his attentions.

His mouth starts on my shoulder, kissing and licking up the sweetness, moving towards my neck.  His teeth gently drag across my skin, his tongue leaving a trail of wet in its wake.  His other hand reaches under the edge of my short shorts and teases along the edge of my lace panties.  “Mmhmm… You’re wet,” he whispers in my ear, a chill running down my spine.

“Door locked?”

“Yup, and Bud and I had a chat. He knows NOT to bring the other two back early this time.”

“Chris!”

“What? How can he be fourteen and not realize ‘old people’ still have sex?! Doesn’t he live in the same house with us? How did he not know?!  And your son called us OLD!”

“Yea, that was a dumb,” I laugh, turning the sweet sound to a moan as his lips nip at my flesh again. “You didn’t say it, did you?”

“No,” he sighs bitterly, licking the remaining chocolate from my neck, his beard tickling me.  “But really, how often do you get the opportunity to say ‘if the trailer’s rockin’, don’t come knockin’?’”

I take a spoonful of batter and seductively lick the spoon as he watches me.  “And you wonder why the kid needs therapy?”

He pushes me into the counter, a little roughly. “Hey, mood killer? Wanna talk about taxes and funeral plots, too?”

“Sorry, sorry,” I push my ass back against him. “Stupid ‘mom brain.’  Got any ideas on how to clear it?”

Pushing my shorts down quickly, he turns us so he can push me onto the bench seat at the table in the confined space. “All fours, babe,” he orders. I tug my top over my head, revealing my toned naked form to him. I bite back my laughter when he hits his head on the hanging lamp and curses.  “Chocolate and sweet?  Hmmm… I like that idea,” he announces.

The metal mixing bowl clangs against the counter as he pulls it to him and I instinctively shy away when the cold batter dribbles across the top curve of my ass.  “How many squats today?” he asks, appreciatively.

“Two hundred and fifty. Tomorrow’s a rest day,” I answer as he runs his finger through the mess of chocolate he’s making.

I look over my shoulder and the look on his face is pure Evans.  “Are you finger painting?” I ask with a smile.

“I always liked art. Edible just makes it more fun.”  He pushes down on my back, lowering me to crouch back on my heels.  I stretch my arms out in front of me, pushing back against the wall, enjoying his playfulness.

I hear his belt buckle hit the floor and his foot hit the cabinet.  “Dammit,” he mutters. “I shoulda just carried you to the bed, but I didn’t wanna hear you bitch about brownie batter on the sheets.”

“Shut up, Evans.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He kneels behind me, wiping his hands on the kitchen towel.  He grasps my hips and massages me roughly, pulling me back to him.  Goosebumps cover my flesh when he begins to use his perfect tongue to clean the chocolate mess.  His wide oral muscle makes quick work of the cleaning process, his lips following after each swipe to deliver gentle kisses.  His moans hit to my core and I’m practically dripping on the leather seat, writhing and pushing myself to his face.  He chuckles at my silent message.  “Almost clean,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. “Good things come to those who wait.”

His hands spread my cheeks, tugging and pulling as his mouth continues to cover my skin, moving closer and closer to my hole.  I hold my breath in anticipation and I’m not disappointed when his lips cover my sweet rim and he kisses me intimately.  One hand reaches through my legs, seeking my other entrance, plunging in two fingers quickly.  With his hands and mouth working his magic, he knows how to quickly bring me to the edge; he’s had years of practice and tonight there is no time for games.  “Shit,” I hiss. “It’s not enough, I need you to fuck me, babe.”

Chris chuckles, his lips pulling away from the suction on my pretty pink asshole.  He remedies that quickly by returning to his kisses, making use of his tongue as he dips gently inside.  I moan in pleasure and a thought enters my mind, “Not this time, mister.  No licking brownie batter there.  It’s good for five minutes, but not worth the troubles later.”

He taps my ass, acknowledging he heard and understood me, and I look over my shoulder again, just seeing the top of his spiky summer hair.  His fingers pick up speed, twirling and scissoring, and curving against my walls in our own practiced rhythm. I crave a verbal release, but we’ve learned over the years that’s not acceptable in family oriented campgrounds.  I quietly hum as his tongue pushes a little deeper in one space and he teases around my clit in the other.  So close to the edge but I need more.  “Chris,” I whine. “Help.”

A third finger isn’t what I had in mind, but it does the trick.  I shatter and come, but not hard enough, not with the relief I need.  His mouth releases its hold on my ass, but his hands still work their magic.  His foot hits the cabinet again and I can hear him changing position on the floor.  He quickly pulls out his fingers and grabs my hips, pulling me off the bench and down on the floor, into his lap.  My pussy still clenches, needing more, needing to be full.  He rests me momentarily on his thigh and I twist to kiss him, ravenously taking his mouth, not caring where it’s been.  He holds his stiff cock, so beautiful, in place, as he guides me with his other hand to slide down on him.

Chris leans forward, holding my back against his chest, reaching to grab my tits with his free hand. I am seated on him, pulling my feet behind me, resting against his legs, gasping as he fills my need.  My space stretches for him, swallowing him deep inside.  His hands slide down my ribcage and hold tight on my hips, pushing and pulling me against him.  I lean forward on his strong thighs and grind against the base of his cock, turned on by the rapid sounds of his breathing, and the quiet moans he makes.  He uses his strong hands to bounce me on his tool, sliding one hand down between my open legs, reaching for my sweet button to signal my release.

Her growls in my ear, “I wanna play forever, but the kids…”

“I know,” I whine. “Roll me; fuck me into the floor.”

“Whatever you say, Mrs. Evans.” He obliges my request quickly, hooking one arm under my leg and raising it before thrusting deep inside then pulling out slowly. “Just a few of those,” I sigh, smacking his ass, the sharp sound of my flesh against his like music to my ears.

He grunts, repeating his actions and I reach for the side of his face, drawing his attention to my eyes.  “I love you, baby.”

I can’t take much more of being pushed into the hard floor.  His eyes focused on mine, I smack his ass again with my other hand.

“You’re bad; that’s it,” he grits through his teeth, letting go of my leg and falling to me, his mouth on mine, hot and wet, sweat clinging to his beard. His hard chest pushes against my breasts and I arch into him. I never exactly know quite what his last minute move will be, but it’s always just what I need, and not always the same, as he pummels into me, pushing me over the edge.

Rising up for his own release, he hits his head on the underside of the table. “Dammit!” he barks, continuing his penetrating bursts before his seed spills into me, filling me and when it’s too much, his heat runs between my legs, pooling on the floor under me as he falls next to me.

I wrap my arms around him, holding him tight.  “Good job for an old man,” I tease, stroking the patch of gray in his hair that I adore so much. He chuckles and nips at my breast, rolling to reach the bowl of brownie batter.

“Not too bad yourself,” he teases.  “See.  Old people can still do it.”

“Stop!” I fuss before he can reach into the chocolate batter.  “Your hands!”

Confused at first, he stops himself in mid-air, sitting up before setting the bowl on the bench we didn’t just fuck on.  “Yea, I got it,” he nods.  “Why don’t you go shower again? I’ll wash up, myself and the leather seat, maybe mop the floor,” he grins when I flip him off, “and get the brownies in the oven, and when the kids get back we can have ice cream with them at the campfire?”

I smile when he uses the spoon to drop one last glob of rich chocolate onto my breast, suckling it clean, before helping me to my feet. “Cut the roll of cookie dough in the fridge. We can’t use sex brownie batter for the kids; that’s all kinds of wrong,” I laugh.

Before I step into the other room, I turn back to him and catch him licking from the spoon. A dribble of batter clings to his lip and I step back over to kiss him. “I love you, Mr. Evans. Thank you for an enjoyable fuck; I needed that.”

“And thank you for letting me fuck you.   I mean, I’m sure the creeper across the way would have been available.” When I punch his arm, he grimaces, laughing and rubbing the spot.  “Hey, that arm still hurts sometimes, you know.”  He rolls his eyes, lit up with mirth and a tease to his voice. “Still not into being a swinger? No? He watched you all afternoon-“

“Shut it, Evans. Enough, you’re the only man, or cock, for me.”

“I am quite desirable, and lovable.”

“And an asshole,” I call over my shoulder, stopping again at the door, smiling at him.

“Babe, that was quite memorable…  Go shower.  I love you, too, Mrs. Evans.”

Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

 

Local Attractions

like magic 2 local attractions July 28 2016.jpg

Local Attractions

*A Chris Evans fan fic*

By avenger-nerd-mom

While on a quick weekend getaway, Chris meets a local girl

Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, Rough sex, forced oral sex, penetration, condoms

Word Count: 1186

She almost wishes he’d slow down and let up a bit in order for her to enjoy and savor their sexual escapades a bit more. Everything just seems to be moving so fast, and I wanna remember it all, she thinks as her tits bounce with each thrust he delivers.

On the edge of his hotel bed, one ass cheek practically hanging off, one leg dangling to the floor, the other caught in the crook of his arm , Chris increases his invasions into her welcoming hole. Sounds of their sex fill the air and neither are too concerned if the neighbors will hear them.  It’s early evening and most of the guests are still sight-seeing or out to dinner.

Just as quickly as he charges into her, he pulls out, shifting his position and sticks his covered cock in her face.  “I want you to take it,” he growls, but she also hears the underlying request, as though she has the power to choose.  Who would say no to Captain America?

She wraps her lips around his thick piece, tasting herself on him, a smile forming at the flavored condom they’d joked about purchasing.  The damn thing even smells like strawberries…In disbelief, she shakes her head back and forth, moving him from side to side and adding a gentle hum for his benefit.

“Fuck, that’s nice,” Chris offers seductively as he grips her hair holding her still as he strikes in and out for his own pleasure before letting her free to lick him like a lollipop again.  Pulling him in as deeply as she can she hears his gasp, and reaches to massage his Adonis, running her fingers up through the faint hairs on his lower abs.

Pulling out with a pop, he enjoys the “oh” shape her mouth creates and leans to kiss her harshly, staking a claim before aligning with her center again for penetration.  He pulls in and out, stretching her walls, feeling her velvet grip him tight.  Leaning over her, he takes one of her pretty tits in his mouth, sucking and teasing with his teeth across her nipple, eliciting a gasp of shock from deep in her throat.  His little game continues, teasing her just to the edge before pulling back and rebuilding her need again.

Tiring of his stance, he pistons inside with the force to push her higher up on the bed, bunching the sheets under her as she moves, so he can hover above her.  “I want you to come now,” he orders, looking in her eyes with a giving smile as he sinks deep inside, holding still momentarily for the final expansion she needs to accommodate his size.

Over her, he pulls out slowly, long strokes pushing back in quickly.  “Shit, I like that,” she admits breathlessly, so he continues his skilled movements, a master at work.  Within moments the waves are felt between them as she begins to come.  “I need more,” she whines and he willingly snakes his hand between them and finds her clit, teasing it as the shockwaves grow larger and her sounds, “Oh, Oh, hmmm, just like that,” fill the room.

His cock swells as the feeling rushes through his thighs, adding to the vigor he delivers into her as he comes, filling the vending machine condom with his seed.  “Just like that,” he repeats, chuckling when she grabs his ass, holding him still.

“Don’t move,” she giggles, a visible quake washing over her body as she tells him what to do.  He kisses her forehead, damp with sweat from their summer games. Another wave rolls through her, and she releases him, allowing him to fall to her side.

Face first, head in the down-filled pillow, he throws his arm across her chest, massaging his thumb over her hip.  “That was… unbelievable. Fuckin’ unforgettable,” she sighs.

He turns his face to her, watching as she stares up at the ceiling fan, listening to the children down at the pool, sounds of ice falling into the machine nearby.  A smile grows on his face and she turns to grin at him, a slight blush on her tanned cheeks.  They lay in silence, both not knowing what to say.

The silence is broken moments later when her phone rings.   “Your side, I think,” he says as he gets out of bed and walks to the bathroom to clean up and give her privacy.  He leaves the door open, curiosity getting the better of him once again.

“Hey, baby girl. Yea, I won’t be able to make it tonight after all… Remember the joke this morning about the ‘man of my dreams?’ I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow… Shit, I can’t really talk.  I’m in his hotel room… At the gas station,” she replies. Chris can see her shaking her head, but stretching out like a queen on his bed, proud of herself.  “Yea, I know, right after I talked to you… Right. A GDT,” she giggles.  “I don’t know. If he asks me to stay, I might… Always safe… Ok. Talk to you tomorrow…”

Chris steps back into the room, carrying a hot wet wash cloth for her and a towel, biting back a laugh as she pinches her fingers open and closed, rolling her eyes as she mimics the talking of her friend.  He begins washing over her sticky mound with the cloth.  “Mmmhmm… Yea… Fuck I gotta go.  I promise, first thing tomorrow. Luv ya! Bye!”

She tosses the phone back down on the floor, lifting her hips into his hand as he gently wipes her down, then pats her dry with the second towel.  “What’s a GDT?” he asks.  “Or do I not wanna know?”

She runs her fingertips down his arms, and looks back to him with challenge in her eyes. “That’s a local term we use for God Damn Tourists, like you. A GDT,” she laughs, eying his beautiful naked physique as he stands next to the bed, her eyes slowly moving from tat to tat. Memorizing his beauty.

He chuckles at the acronym.  “So was it ‘like magic?’” he asks, bending to pick something off the floor and she laughs when her Captain America shirt hits her in the face.

She tosses it back to him.  “Everything I dreamed it would be and more.  In fact, where’s the grape one?  I wanna try it next,” she taunts, teasing him about the selection of flavored condoms he got in the vending machine at the gas station where they met earlier that morning.

He steps over to the little table by the window, adjusting the curtain again to ensure no one can see in as they walk by the second floor room overlooking the pool.  “Please don’t think I’m an ass… Take this as a compliment that the sex is so good, I can’t remember a thing,” he chuckles, embarrassment written all over his face.  “But, uh, what’s your name again?”

She throws her head back in laughter as she spins around to sit up on her knees, motioning for him to join her.  “Well, Chris,” indicating she definitely remembers who he is.  “They call me Becca.”

*can be read as a stand alone, but this story is truly a follow-up piece to “Like Magic“*

Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

Save the Date

 

Save the Date July 27 2016

Save the Date

an Emery & Chris story

by avenger-nerd-mom

Chris and Emery relax on a hot Georgia night and finalize some plans for the wedding.  Chris is being a tease, so Emery has a reward for good behavior planned out later

Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, Fluff, NSFW, oral sex

Word Count 2798

“So you pick the hottest day of summer to sit down and plan our winter wedding?”

Emery sits the beer on the table in front of him, and moves the ash tray from the railing of the porch, closer to him.  She pulls up her chair, slips off her sandals and rests them on the edge of his chair.  “Babe, I hate to tell you, it’s gonna be even hotter tomorrow and you promised you’d go to my nephew’s ball tournament.”

She giggles when he rolls his eyes and drops his head back, his jaw dropping open in the process. “Oh, my God, I’m gonna die.  They won’t cancel the game in this heat?”

“Ya big Yankee baby! We don’t cancel games on account of heat! And you promised that little boy!”

“I know, I know.   Fine.  Damn, It’s hot as hell here,” he rubs his hand across his beard, scratching his fingertips under his nose, over his mustache. “Ok, ok.  Think cold. Boston. Winter.  Snow.  Why are we getting married in December anyway?” Chris chuckles.

“Because I’ll be on sabbatical and you get time off from filming,” she tiredly explains again. “We can still have time for Disney, our wedding and a honeymoon.”

“Why don’t we get married at Disney?”

“Babe, I’m not getting married at Disney.”  She fans herself with a section of the newspaper left lying on the table, her tone quickly becoming exasperated with his little verbal game.

“But all the weddings I’ve seen from there are beautiful.  It could be a true fairytale wedding.  We got engaged at Disney; we should get married there.”

“I’m not getting married at Disney.”

“Mickey Mouse could walk you down the aisle.”  Chris takes another deep inhale before putting out the cigarette, knowing it’s a habit she only pretends to tolerate.

“You wanna explain that to my father?”  Chris shudders at the thought, and she giggles.  “We are not getting married at Disney.”

“We could-“

“Chris. Listen now.  We. Are. NOT. Getting. Married. At. Disney. “ He smiles at the distinct Southern twang to her voice she attains whenever she’s worked up about something. He likes to do it on purpose just to hear her speak. She continues her explanation, the one he feels like he’s already heard a thousand times.  He just likes hearing her talk about their wedding, still somewhat in awe he actually found a girl who wants to marry him. “We’ve already chosen a date in December that allows us to renew our vows every year there; take an annual anniversary trip there, but we are getting married in Boston.”

He sighs deeply.  “Fine.”

She sees the gleam in his eyes and knows he was messing with her the whole time. “Ass,” she laughs.  “You do know the date, right?”

“Ha, ha. Very funny.  December 10.  I’ll be there in whatever you tell me to wear.  It apparently will not include Disney mouse ears…”

“It most definitely will not.  You narrowed it down to three suits, right?”

“Yes, Ilaria and I took care of that and we have an appointment week after next when you get back from that other conference you have to attend.  That way you both make the final decision together.  I’m just the guy that has to look good in it.  Just think, honey, your own personal suit porn,” He laughs, appealing to her inner fangirl.  “Hey, I got a question: Why are we doing this?  Why don’t we just get a wedding planner?”

“Are you serious? Do you know how detail oriented I can be?  Between my mother and sisters on this end, and your mom, sisters and Tara in Boston, why the hell do we need a planner?”  She taps the notebook in front of her, indicating all the information they need for their impending nuptials are all right there.

“Shit, that’s a lot of chiefs to have to answer to,” he laughs.

She nods her head in agreement.  She quietly exhales, “Hey, I’m making sacrifices too, just to try to make everyone happy.  Just remember what my dad said-”

“‘Yes, dear,’” Chris chimes in.  “Your father is a very smart man.”  He looks at the notes in front of her, reading down the list of names, pulling his shirt away from him as it sticks to his chest in the hot sticky weather.  “Damn, babe! Between all our siblings to be in the wedding party, will there be anyone left to actually watch us get married?”

She laughs. “We’ve talked about this. Can you focus and remember this time?”  she sees the devilish light return to his eyes.   Her voice takes a steely tone.  “Dammit, Evans, if you quit playing around, this could go a lot easier.”

“Can we get to the fucking part of this conversation then?”

She tosses her head back and laughs, using the towel on the table to wipe the trickle of sweat running down between her breasts.  “Yes, dear.  This really won’t take long….”

He claps his hands together enthusiastically.  “Ok, well I’m away from set all of December.  Everyone from Marvel that we plan to invite already has the date on the calendar so they can make it and-“

“FUCK! FUCK.  Fuck, fuck fuck,” Emery exclaims, her eyes wide in horror.

“What?!”

“You! You’ll be working!  You’ll be in Steve mode.  You’ll be solid as a brickhouse, but you’ll be shaved! Oh, god dammit!  How fast can you grow the beard out?”

Chris throws his head back, laughing so hard the chair nearly tips out from under him.  Gasping to catch his breath, he rubs his hands on his thighs, shaking his head.  “Babe.  I promise, even if I have to film a day or two after Thanksgiving, I can have Gifted beard, just like you like, in time for the wedding.”

“Oh, thank God.  I mean, I loved Steve Rogers first, but the man I really love has this amazing beard,” she leans forward to scratch his chin and he turns to kiss the palm of her hand, the bristles tickling at her delicate flesh.

“I can show you in a little bit some amazing things this beard can do?” he offers, kissing her palm again.

“I’m gonna hold you to that, but after we finish this,” she chuckles, trying to ignore the rising heat she feels internally.

A gentle breeze passes through the back yard and the wind chimes play a gentle tune.

“Alright. So I’m on now, huh? Prove to you I pay attention, Ms. Thomas, is that it?”

“If you can pass the test, I’ve got a nice incentive waiting for you,” she giggles.

“Alright then, Scott has been asked to be the best man.  We’ve got Josh, D, Ryan, Parker, Reece- the brother squad- and my friend Brad lined up for the wedding party.  And you, you’ve got Mackinzie as the maid of honor and the bridesmaids are Carly, Shanna, Susan, Tara, Jen and Katie.  Which, by the way, I’ll say again, it’s just a little weird you insisted on Jen in the wedding.  I know you two have known each other a long time, but she writes ‘Evans porn.’ It’s just weird.”

Emery laughs at the blush on his face.  “Honey, you liked her when we met her, and we are close friends.  She’s moved on to another crush now that she says she sees you are truly serious -”

Chris interrupts. “Excuse me, moved on? Which of my Marvel boys do I need to warn?”

Emery chuckles, playfully hitting his arm.  She shakes her head, “I will not betray her confidences… Fangirl oath.  Sorry.  I was a fangirl, and always will be.” She shrugs her shoulders and rolls her eyes.  “A lot of my friends invited to the wedding are gonna be fangirls, but everyone has promised to remain calm.”

“It’s fucked up, but whatever.  Speaking of ‘fucked?’” He inquires with a turn of his head and his famously raised eyebrow.

“Not till we finish the list,” Emery taps the table, trying to get him back on task, the sounds of crickets filling the air as the sun drops behind the tree line.

Chris continues his train of thought, reporting through the list of facts he reviews almost daily.  “We’re all reporting December 10, in the morning at the barn.  But you’ll be the one at the gazebo, cause I can’t see you before.  Separate photography before and family photos and our pictures after. Dinner is some kinda fish, roast and I don’t care,” he rolls his eyes.  “Scott and Josh are taking care of the DJ and we have to have our playlists compiled, when? By the first of September, right?”  He smiles when Emery nods her approval of his recitation.

“Have you thought any more about my request?” she asks tentatively.

Chris shakes his head ‘no.’ “Babe, I would give you the world, but I’m not singing.”

“But I’ve caught you practicing my favorite song, and it’s perfect for a wedding.  Please?”

Reaching to caress the back of her hand, “Kitten, I do have a plan for that song, but I can’t sing in front of all those people.  I just can’t.”

Emery turns her hand, capturing his and raising it to her lips.  His hand smells like him, sweat and cigarettes, and her stomach turns somersaults.  Stupid pheromones.  “Alright, I understand.  I’d like you to think about it more, but I won’t ask again.  I know you’ve got enough stress.”

Ignoring the shitty feeling her comment gives him, he continues down the check list, wanting to get this done.  Just the simple act of her lips on his knuckles has kicked him into overdrive and her tanned legs propped up on the edge of his seat don’t help any.

He continues quickly. “We’ve got a couple of days before the wedding to set up the venue, brunch the day after, and then we leave on our destination honeymoon and I’m still not telling you where that is…  Wanna know why I can’t tell you?”

“Because you haven’t decided yet?” she asks.

“Because I haven’t decided yet,” he chuckles.  “Oh, you think you know me so well.”

“I do, babe, I do.”

“Kitten, you just keep practicing those words.  You need those for the ceremony,” he chuckles, running his fingertips up her calf, watching her begin to squirm.  “That’s your important line that day.  Don’t blow it.  I hate working with amateurs.”

“Ha, ha, very funny.  You forget, as a teacher, I perform every day, on the spot.  With no script.  That probably makes me the seasoned professional.  Someone else writes your words for you.”  She playfully taps his arm, “The vows?”

“Shit, okay, we’re writing our own vows, so I guess those are important too.”

“And if I hear anything sounding like anything you have ever said on screen before, you’re a dead man,” she threatens quietly, with a deadly serious look in her eyes.

“I got this.  I can write my own professions of love to you.”

Chris notices with each rise and fall of her chest that she isn’t wearing a bra under her pale pink tank top. In the heat, sweat pools under her breasts, her shirt clinging in just the right places, tendrils of curls wet against her neck.  He wonders if he’s ever seen her look so beautiful, so natural before.

She snaps her fingers in front of his face, pulling him from his musings.  “No writing it the night before, half drunk.”

“I’ll have you know I have already started making notes,” he laughs.  “Okay, back to the list.   Where was I? Destination honeymoon, then meeting everyone in Orlando and then Christmas.  Am I forgetting anything big right now?”

“No, sweetie, I think you pretty much got it.”  She relaxes know, realizing his forgetfulness through most of their wedding discussions has all been an act, simply to annoy her.  It worked.  She’ll be addressing that with him tomorrow, she thinks to herself.

Proudly, he puffs up his chest, knowing he has been able to recite the wedding details nearly from memory.  “So are we done?”

“One more thing,” she smiles.  “Tara is taking care of the cake.  She wants to know if we want an actual cake or cupcakes?”

“Both?” he chuckles when he sees his answer pleased his future bride.  “Cause isn’t it tradition to keep the top tier of the cake and freeze it and eat it on your first anniversary?  And cupcakes mean we can have all our favorite kinds of cake and everyone can pick and choose what they want, right?”

“Right,” she smiles, making a note on the pad of paper in front of her.  “Oh, speaking of traditions, listen to this and tell me what you think?”

She outlines a plan that had come to her while she was daydreaming during her math conference the week before.  Chris chuckles and agrees he thinks it’s a great plan.  “I’ll get you the phone numbers you need.  I’ll let that be your little project; I can’t wait to hear how that turns out.  You know you’re amazing?”

“What the hell do we need a ton of presents for?  Between us we have like, what?  Three houses and an apartment?” she giggles as he counts on his fingers.  “How many toasters do we need?” she tosses out. “If I get to leave that day with a ring on my finger and your last name, I’m set.  I don’t need anything else.”

The temperature continues to drop as sunset fades to darkness and the breeze cools the sweat along the neckline of Chris’s t-shirt.  “And I get you, so I guess you’re right.  We don’t need anything else.  I love your plan.  It’s beautiful; just like you.”

He rises from her chair and scoops his hands under her to pick her up from her seat.  “Mr. Evans, what are you doing?”

“Going out into the yard to lay in the grass and make love to you under the stars; it’s a private back yard with high fences.  The neighbors won’t know.”

“There’s also ticks and chigggers. You ain’t taking me out and fuckin’ me on the grass,” her accent rings through her words like music to his ears.

“Emery Rose, that may be THE most Southern thing I’ve ever heard you say,” he whispers in her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

“Also spiders,” she teases.

He sets her down, complaining quietly about the South in summer, and quickly reclines the oversized patio chaise lounge before lifting her tank top over her arms exposing her beautiful skin to the glow of the moon, lights from the kitchen window back lighting her beautiful body.

wedding planning strip.gif

The smell of cigarette smoke and beer wafts to her nose and she giggles as he lays her down gently, tugging her short shorts off on one swift motion.

“Did I pass the recitation portion of my exam, Miss Thomas?” he whispers gruffly in the dark, kneeling between her spread legs.

A breathy moan escapes her lips as his beard brushes against her thigh, his hands sliding up her legs. “Yea, gold stars,” she giggles, tugging her fingers through his damp, sweaty hair.

He rises momentarily to pull his shirt over his head and she yelps in surprise when the Saint Christopher’s medallion feels cold against her leg.

“Do you think you could help with the oral part of my test?” Chris asks, diving between her legs with no pretense of foreplay.

His tongue slices through her wet divide.  Her scent is amplified by the Georgia heat, musky, yet sweet. He pushes his tongue in her welcoming hole and pulls back slowly, devilishly as she squirms beneath him.

Emery shifts her ass on the cushion, raising her foot onto the edge of the lounge, bringing her waiting pussy closer to his mouth, opening herself wide for his greater enjoyment. She grabs his shoulders, kneading her fingers in his tight muscles, basking in the attentions of his tongue, dipping in and out, his lips stopping occasionally to kiss the soft flesh of her inner thighs.

Her vocals increase when he begins to drill her with two fingers, twisting and teasing as they push and flutter against her inner walls, his tongue still working its magic. “Oh, shit, she whispers when one flick of his wide tongue sweeps over her taint.  “Damn,” she hisses.

He chuckles softly, lost in his thoughts, licking the spot again as she begins to grind against his palm. She comes quickly, a series of moans pushing from her lungs, “Yes, Chris, yes,” she hisses.

His fingers slow their task and he licks her clean, reveling in her taste.

“Catch your breath, babe, cause I need my turn.  I’m gonna-”

“Hey!” a voice yells over the fence.  “No one answered the front door? We brought ice cream! Yoo-hoo!” calls out Emery’s mother.

Emery makes a quick naked dash into the house, laughter following her, leaving Chris to deal with his visible need and his future in -laws.

 

Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

Dancing Lessons

Dancing Lessons July 15 2016

Dance Lessons

*a Sunshine and Chris story*

Chris and plus-sized OFC “Sunshine”

By avenger-nerd-mom

Chris watches on as his plus-sized girlfriend “Sunshine” packs her bags for a trip to Boston, and music leads to dancing

Warnings: Language, NSFW, provocative dancing, aggressive oral sex, plus size insecurities, adult situations, intercourse

Word Count 3089

Click here for other Sunshine stories…

“Are you finished packing?” I ask incredulously, feeling like a madwoman throwing things in my suitcase.

Chris lays on my bed, ankles crossed, wiggling his feet back and forth. Looking up from his phone, he says, “I just need my backpack. I have stuff back home in Boston.”

“Must be nice,” I say, pulling two sundresses, my favorite summer staple, from my closet.

“Good god, how many sundresses do you have?” he chuckles.  He laughs harder as I  rub my middle finger across my lips.  His playfulness tugs at my heartstrings.

“I hate making sure all my soaps and lotions are just three ounces.  It’s a pain in the ass.”

When Chris just stares at me quietly I realize our flight experiences have been vastly different.  “You just throw everything in a bag and check your luggage, don’t you?”

“Well, yea,” he laughs, “depending on where I’m going.  Don’t you?”

“Hell, no.  That costs too much extra!”

“This trip doesn’t cost you extra so take whatever you want.  Take a whole suitcase full of your favorite shoes for all I care.  Besides, we’re flying private.”

Pulling out some of my favorite bra and panty sets, I toss them to him and he fingers the lace before throwing them in the bag.  “Private? What? Why?” What the fuck would he do that for?

Wiggling uncomfortably now, a blush rides over Chris’s handsome face.

Dropping my voice, resting my hand on his tight denim-clad thigh, I inquire, “Christopher, what are you not telling me?”

“Well, I just hate the cramped feeling when I fly. I never have enough leg room,” he complains, stretching his legs out but avoiding looking at me.

“Christopher, you did not!  I can fly commercial, it’s not a big deal, really.”  I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, in jean shorts and a fashionably tattered t-shirt.  Me.  He’s worried about me being comfortable. “My fat ass can fit in the seat, you know!”

“It’s a beautiful ass, and I know you can.  I just wanted us both to be comfortable; to enjoy our first travel trip together, quietly and alone,” he says with resign.

Shaking my head at him, I complain, “Babe, that’s too expensive, I’m fine with whatever airline you choose.”

“Sunshine, you know money is no problem.  You may not know this, but I recently fired my interior designer. I got money to burn,” he chuckles. I smile at his nickname for me, loving that he says I bring warmth and happiness into his life.

I swat at his leg, knowing he won’t change his plan, and turn to pull a matching pajama set out of the drawer.  A thought comes to me and I quickly say it out loud.  “A private plane, hmmm?  We could have some fun with that, now couldn’t we?”

“Are you talking about the mile high kinda fun?” he asks, his attention back on me and not his phone.  His smile beams when I shake my head yes.  “I like the way you think, babe,” he says with a grin.

He whistles when I bend over to pull a few t-shirts from a lower drawer and I shake my “beautiful” ass for him, slowly rising up in a silly dance move.  He chuckles and the sound warms my heart.  I love being so relaxed and goofy around him.

“You know we’re only staying a few days?”

Speech momentarily leaves me as I’m aware of his thoughtless movements.  The wiggle of his legs is adorable, and something I’ve become accustomed to watching him do in various manners during meetings on his house design, or times we watched movies if I stayed late after working.  But the way he absently raises his t-shirt to scratch his belly, twirling his fingers in his own hairs, catching a glimpse of the Bardsley tat?  It’s too damn much…

“You’re really cute, you know that?”  I smile and he pauses mid scratch to look at me, smiling too.  He blinks away the compliment slowly with his boyish charm and my heart melts.  He pulls his t-shirt back down and continues scrolling on his phone.  I still can’t believe he wants to take me home to Boston.  We haven’t even been dating that long.  “I know we’re only staying a few days, but we’re staying at your mom’s house.  I need clothes and I want to have a choice.  Now, if you were taking me to a beach somewhere, I’d just throw in some shorts and t-shirts, a few swimsuits and we’d be done.”

“Got any bikinis? I’d like that,” he replies with a smirk, looking up at me.  “Siri, search ‘beach vacation destinations.’”

Laughing, I roll the t-shirts and add them to my suitcase.   He’s fuckin’ kiddin’ me, right? “Really, honey?  A bikini?”

Chris puts his phone down and rolls around on the bed, rising up on his knees, sitting near the head board.  He rests his hands on his thick thighs, and for a brief moment, I lose all thought.  The way his arms are placed, in the lamplight, I can see the tiny hairs on his arms and his freckles.  “Fuck yea! I’d die to see that perfect peach- shaped ass in one.”

I stare at him, somewhat in shock.  He stares back and the determination on his face shows he’s having none of this bout of insecurity.

“We’ll go shopping; find you something in a classic style like you wear. Very 1950s, my own pin-up girl?”

I move to the bed and lean into him, placing a chaste kiss on his lips.  “Sweet man; thank you.”  Holy shit, I think this man is totally blinded by love and I totally fall harder for him because of it.  “I’m not as confident as you think I am, but I hide it well.  You know that by now.  But I love that idea!”

“Baby, you are beautiful to me.  Lovely face, sweet smile, legs that go on for days, ass and tits.  I love the way you look.  I can’t say it to you enough to get it into your head.”  He gently tugs my hair, massaging my scalp as I kneel on the bed next to him.  “If you don’t show off at the beach, how is the fourteen-year-old hiding under her size three X t-shirt ever gonna learn to be comfortable in her own body?  You have style and class, and you can be a great role model for someone else.”

His face glows with the praise he is lavishing on me and my heart weakens.  This man, with his cute smirk and wiggly legs, is all I’ve ever wanted.

“God, you’re amazing.  How are you even real?”  I question him, rising and crossing the room to finish packing.

He just smiles, shrugging his shoulders at the rhetorical question and continues, “Aren’t you about finished? What secret features does this room have?” Curiously, he looks around my small retreat.

I clap my hands and the lights dim.  He leans back in laughter at such a stereotypical “dude” feature to my room.  A quiet command in Spanish and music begins to play from the speakers hidden behind the headboard, the sounds of “American Woman” by Lenny Kravitz filling the room.

“Perfect!  I love it!” he chuckles, moving to place the suitcase on the floor, a light twinkle in his eye as he turns back to me.  “Those were some good moves a few minutes ago.  Why don’t you show me what you got?”  He gently rocks to the smooth seductive beat.

“What? Dance? Me?’ I ask, terrified he’s being serious.

“A striptease,” he taunts me.

“Oh, God, Christopher, I may have confidence, but I have no rhythm,” I inform him, shaking my head and backing away from him, throwing a sweatshirt onto the pile of clothes in the suitcase by the bed.

“Aw, Sunshine, it’s easy, just sway your hips a little bit like this.”  I watch as he begins to advance towards me in his tight jeans and ab hugging t-shirt, moving in time to the music. Raising his hands above his head, he snaps his fingers with the beat.  The look in his eye, purely predatory.  I shake my head and giggle.  “Lose yourself in the music…  When you dance, dance for you, like I’m not even here.”

Reaching me, he brings his arms over and behind my head, pulling me close to him without touching me, continuing to bounce to the music.  His hips sway side to side, and with each third beat of the song, he thrusts forward against my thighs.  With each tap, I can feel him growing harder beneath his restrictive clothing. Watching from the corner of my eyes, the muscles in his arms flex and release and the sound of his snapping fingers echo in my ears. “Fuck,” I whisper.  He raises his eyebrows and grunts, matching the song forever now burned in my brain.

He drags his fingertips down the back of my arms, sending shivers along my spine as goosebumps form, and takes my hands.  His hips still sway against me in their hypnotizing pattern…  Entwining our fingers, Chris raises our hands slowly out to my sides.  He pulls me to him and my full breasts push against his solid chest, my nipples growing hard under the friction. He brings my arms behind his head and slides his strong hands to my face, drawing me to him for a forceful kiss before roughly massaging his hands down to my hips, my flesh rolling under his grip.  With his hands planted firmly on my curved waistline, my arms wrapped around his neck, Chris guides me to grind against him with the beat of the music.  His eyes are darkened with lust and never leave mine.

ass grab 2

I’m hot and my mouth feels dry; I flick my tongue out to wet my lips and swallow slowly.  I’ve never been seduced like this before and I’m heady with his attentions.   My breath catches and my eyes close as I move against him, lost in him and the music.  “Open your eyes,” he growls, pushing me into the dresser, never missing a beat of the song.  His hands run up my sides and he squeezes my full tits, his thumbs brushing against my aching peaks.  Still connected at the waist, he leans away from me and quickly moves his arms behind his head, grabbing at the neckline of his shirt and pulling it over his head, rolling his torso back up against me as he drops it on the floor.

“Your turn,” he moans against my neck, biting roughly as the song fades out, leaving me with a quick, wet kiss against my hot skin as he shimmies in time to the music back over to rest on the edge of the bed.

“Can I pick the song?” I choke the words trying to buy time as I take in my surroundings, mesmerized by his physique and his daring prowess as a dancer.

He shakes his head ‘no.’ “Whatever’s next…”

I glare at him, praying shuffle is good to me.  I hide my relief as “Good for You” by Selena Gomez begins, the light of dusk filtering in, shades of purples and oranges from the sunset reflected on the white walls.  I take a deep breath and draw myself up as tall as I can, wrapping my confident persona around me like a blanket.  Fuck this; I’ll show him.

I match his instruction, swaying my hips to the music, circling in a seductive figure eight. Running my hands up my sides, I cup my breasts and run my fingers under my hair.  I lift it up, shaking it out, quietly singing the line, “do my hair up real nice,” not trusting my own voice. “Syncopate my skin to your heart beating,” I pat above my full breasts, mimicking our beating hearts. The last golden rays of sunlight beat across his chest and I’m distracted by his beauty.  Even across the room, I can see his eyes are still dark and his erection threatens to break through his pants.  I close my eyes and turn my back to him, following the beat of the song.  He can watch me in the mirror over the dresser, but my figure blocks out his reflection.

Raising my arms above my head, I snap my fingers like in the song; just like he had moments before.   The sway of my hips are involuntary now, I don’t have to think about their motion.  I take a deep sigh, running my hands down the valley between my breasts, reaching my waist. My fingertips graze the exposed skin caused by my movements and I’m aware of my peaked interest in the sex to come. Dropping my hands to unbutton my cut off shorts, I slide them slowly down my legs, pausing momentarily under the curvature of my ass, allowing him time to admire.  I gently step out of them and kick them aside, resting my hands on the edge of the dresser and slowly roll my body back up to the musical rhythm beating inside me.  The sharp intake of his breath can be heard above the music and my pounding heart.

As I turn to him, singing “how proud I am to be yours,” I pull the edge of my t-shirt up over my head and lock eyes with his, black with desire, his hands fisted on his knees, the veins in his muscular arms prominent from the strain he holds as he watches me.   I slide the shirt gently down my arms and toss it on top of my pants.  Dancing for my man in my green lace underwear and watching him disintegrate before me brings me to a higher sensuality than I’ve ever known.  Chris’s chest rises and falls with his quick breaths and his jaw clenches.  The predatory watch has returned to him and he is ready to attack.  Rubbing my hands over my full figure, my confidence grows as the lust on his face shines in the dimming daylight.   I lose myself in my movements, just as he directed, and I smile as he undoes his belt buckle, unable to restrain himself any longer, slowly pulling it from the loops of his lung slung jeans.

My hands glide lower, leaning forward slightly, and run smoothly down my thighs. He licks his plump bottom lip as my fingers trace the edge of my panties and he tugs open his button-fly.  I dance across the room towards him and move his hands away.  “Baby let me be good to you,” I sing, the heat in my eyes matching his as I place my hands on his thighs, kneading them under my fingers, continuing to sway to the music.  Pushing forward, my breasts graze his chiseled chest, my lacey ass on display for him in the mirror, as my lips hover next to his, “Let me show you how proud I am to be yours.”

Dropping to an open crouch between his legs, my tits brush against his covered cock, straining to be freed.  Green lace wedges between my folds and becomes wet with my proof.  As I free him from his Calvins, his purple head throbs, begging to be placed in my mouth.  I lick the tip, savoring the salty precum before wrapping my tongue around him and pulling him into my heated hole.  He hisses and I can feel the muscles in his legs tighten.  I give him an extra pump with my hand for good measure as my other hand trails along my inner thigh, heightening my own desire. He moans his approval, watching down on me as I pull him in deeper. His lightly calloused hands roughly wind through my hair and with one hand, he forces me further down his firm shaft.  Holding me in place, as the song ends and faintly moves to another, he rises his tapered hips from the bed and rams into my throat.  He pulls back, short of gagging me and advances again, thrusting a few times before letting me lose.

He pulls me up to a standing position, rising himself.  Standing nearly nose to nose, he wildly fucks me with his eyes while he quickly removes his jeans. Sweeping me into his robust arms, he throws me to the center of the bed. “Fuckin’ love that, baby,” I say as he pulls my ankles back to him, telling me to roll over.

“I know,” he growls, “and I love this,” he says as he grasps my underwear on each side of my stout hips and pulls it down. I slide back onto my knees and lift my feet as he yanks off the offending material.  His hands caress over my full back side as he pushes me forward to rest on my elbows, ass up in the air on the edge of the bed just for him.  Wait for it… I know it’s coming.  There it is!  I smile to myself as Chris’s lips meet my ass cheek, kissing the tat of a four-leaf clover, circled by the words ‘You got LUCKY!’  His tongue lingering for just a moment of sweetness. He grunts as the condom settles into place and with no other pretense, he slides in between my wet, waiting pink lips.

“Yes, baby, fuck me,” I beg.  “I need you.”

His forceful push moves me across the bed, and he reaches to pull my thighs back towards him as my tits drag across the bed.  The expensive linens are rough against my delicate tips and I relish the slight tinge of pain.  “So fuckin tight; I am lucky,” he moans. He sinks in until my ass is pressed against his thighs. My walls stretch around him, warm and welcoming, gently squeezing his sex.

“I wanna hear that moan you make when something feels good,” he confesses as he pushes in again.

I abide to his request and don’t hold back my sounds any longer. Sorry, bitchy neighbor. Be jealous I’m getting some. And it’s so damn good…  My thoughts fade out as Christopher continues his powerful thrusts, bringing us closer to our end.  He reciprocates the same noises as our bodies move together as one, knocking the damn decorator pillows to the floor.

“I really fuckin’ hate those things,” he grumbles against my ear with one final drive, pushing to his completion before rolling me over to continue our fun.

Click here for “Bringing Sunshine to Boston”

Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

Cookies

Cookies cover.jpg

Cookies

an Emery and Chris story

by avenger-nerd-mom

Chris and Emery enjoy a sweet escape from the Philly Con

Warnings: NSFW, Fluffy Smut, Language, Adult Situations, food play, restraints

Word Count: 2459

“Babe, you need real food; Come on,” Emery laughs, trying to tug him past the first counter as they enter Reading Terminal Market.

Chris plants his feet firmly in the aisle, and points at his mouth, “Cookie,” he growls.  “Me want cookie.”

Emery laughs at his childish reference.  “Stop it before someone sees you!  Fangirls are crawling all over this place.  Burger.  Me want burger.”

He points to the glass counter.  “Look at that!  It’s an instant sugar rush.  I need it, I might pass out.”  He pretends to collapse against her.  “I swear I’ll stomp my feet and throw a fit…”

“Fine,” she smiles, knowing she can’t really deny him any of his wishes.  “I guess you earned it.  That was a long ass day.  Fuck, babe, I can’t believe how crowded-“

“Cookies.  Now.  Let my brain rest.”

He bounds to the counter, practically pressing his face to the glass and drooling.

She stands behind him pressing her face into his back, peeking around and pointing at the cookies she wants.

When it’s all said and done, the clerk hands over two boxes full of cookies and a small bag.  Answering the unasked question, Chris explains, “They’re so good, kitten, you’ll see.  You’ll be glad I got so many.  Here, try this one.”

He reaches in the bag pulling out the cinnamon walnut raisin cookie she wanted.  He hands it to her and extracts a chocolate chip macadamia nut one for himself.

“Sweetheart, I really don’t-“

“Eat the cookie, Em. I’m cranky and it’s been a long day.  I could eat this whole box and still want cheesesteaks later.”

She takes the cookie in exasperation.  Her stomach is growling and she wants real food.  She bites into it, planning to save the rest for later.  But the sublime flavor instantly changes her mind. “Oh my God, this cookie is so good,” she moans.  She pauses as she chews to savor the cinnamon, taking another bite.  “It’s so amazing.  You gotta try a bite.”

Emery breaks him off a piece and places it in his open waiting mouth.  Her thumb drags across his lip, awakening a need in both of them, despite their exhaustion after a long day in the convention hall.

He groans suggestively as they start walking towards other vendor areas.  “That is good!”

Emery takes another bite.  “I know, right?  This cookie is so good…  I wanna have sex with this cookie,” she giggles.

His laugh isn’t as jubilant as it would normally be, the exhaustion taking over his body.  He places his hand on her arm, stopping her walk.  “What do you have in mind?” he asks seductively, cocking his eyebrow at her.

“Evans, you dumb ass, it’s just an expression,” Emery laughs.

“Nope.  It’s not.   Whatdya say we take these cookies and go back to the room?” Chris goads her into getting what he wants.  “We can order in pizza- a cheese steak one if that’s what you want- and tomorrow night?  Tomorrow night when we get to Boston I’ll take you for a juicy cheeseburger and fries, just like you want.”

A playfulness flashes through his eyes and lands squarely in her sex, instantly causing her to want this man more than she wants food.  Emery closes her eyes, dropping her head back as she relishes another piece of the cookie.  She feels him brush up against her, pushing her into an empty food counter as the terminal begins to clear out for the night.  He whispers in her ear, “While we walk, you think about how you plan to use that cookie, okay, sweetheart?”

She playfully shrieks when he nibbles her neck and then licks it.  “Sorry, you had some chocolate there,” he laughs, cradling her neck in his hand as they exit the market.

*******************

Leaning against the wall, he whistles at her as she exits the convenience store with a thirty-two-ounce soda in her hand.  “Any ideas yet, beautiful?”

Emery playfully swats his arms.  “Evans, you are incorrigible!  First things, first.  Shower.  All those women brushing up against you today…”
“I liked it,” he snickers, laughing when she flips him off behind her back as she continues to walk on.  He increases the length of his strides and easily catches up to her, tilting his head down so the cosplay Loki headed towards them won’t recognize him.

“You’re an ass sometimes; you know that, right?”  She takes his hand in hers.  “Why do I put up with you?”

“Because you think I’m devilishly handsome, kind, sweet… and I lick you right where you need to be licked.”  Chris laughs boisterously at the blush on her cheeks as they enter the hotel through a side service entrance, grabbing at her ass as she steps inside.

*********************

A lazy smile crosses her face as she exits the bathroom, toweling her hair dry.  Chris is asleep on the bed, in a position that looks as he just fell there, sprawled out on his stomach with one arm at his side and the other curved around his head.  His long lashes lay against his cheeks, adding to his boyish charm.  Barely covered by the sheet that has pulled to the side, his beautifully sculpted ass calls to Emery with the strong desire to bite it.  She giggles as she steps forward, grabbing a few items from the top of the dresser before crawling up on the bed next to him.

She sighs, thinking about the experience of a fangirl.  Nine months ago, she had the opportunity to meet this talented man in Salt Lake City in a photo op setting.  Emery remembers the excitement of simply being next to him and the wonderful dreams he’d inspired and starred in during the weeks after the con, before they met. She still has to pinch herself sometimes to believe he’s real and hers.  She begins to twist her hair between her fingers, braiding it loosely.  Her engagement ring flashes in the gleam of the bedside lamp and her mind fills with memories they’ve built together and how her life has changed at his hands.

Emery can’t fault the women today for their pushiness, their dreams of wanting to be by his side.  The news of their engagement was met well in the fandom, but she knows for many it won’t seem real till photos of their wedding splash the Internet.  She’s been attending cons with her family since she was a young girl but she’d never experienced any of the craziness she saw today.  Somewhere along the line of command, the ball had been dropped.  Too many tickets were sold for ops, scheduling conflicts, rumors flying everywhere.  She had been excited to fangirl herself over the cast of Back to the Future, and stay behind the scenes with her new Marvel pals.  She shakes her head at the teasing she and Hayley put Chris through today, giggling at the secret games behind the red curtains.

“Just remember you’re mine,” she whispers.  “Don’t let any other USO showgirls turn your head.”

His sleep now is well-deserved but her need for him is stronger.  She glides her fingertips over his tight calf muscle, tracing the outline of his tat with his siblings’ initials.  He keeps teasing her about getting a tattoo, just for the two of them, but she isn’t sure.  Nothing comes to her mind that symbolizes them in such a manner that needs to be more permanent than the ring on her finger.  Emery traces the pattern again, twirling her fingers in his soft hairs.  His leg twitches under her touch and he kicks back with his foot.  She giggles when it makes contact with her thigh, probably harder than he intended.  She applies more pressure with her hands, turning her teasing into massage.  On contact, he moans seductively, stirring from his slumber.  He snuggles deeper into the pillow and a faint smile graces his rosy red lips.

Kneeling beside him, Emery continues to massages his calves, kneading the muscles with her thumbs.  She slowly works her way up his thighs, letting her hands roam between his legs, inching towards his tender sac, resting under him.  She laughs when he giggles.  “That tickles,” he whines.

“Evans, you fuckin’ meatball,” Emery replies, her Southern drawl wrapped around his favorite Boston expression.  Her hands continue their massage, cupping his ass. Rising up on her knees, she leans forward and bites his ass as he squirms at her touch.  “Awake yet?”

He pulls another pillow over his head.  “No.  Have your way with me; I’m too tired.”

Emery swats his ass, laughing.  “Fine.  Be that way.”

She climbs over, straddling him, resting on his rounded ass cheeks.  Pulling at his tapered hips, she rocks forward, pushing her hot pussy against him.  “MMmmm,” he moans quietly.  He lifts his head to look over his shoulder when he hears the crinkle from the bag of cookies.

Naked and lovely, Emery is sitting on him, her perfect breasts pushed between her arms as she takes a bite of the cookie and winks at him.   His eyes catch a stripe of red at her feet.   He smiles and lays his head back down, hugging the pillow under his chest.   “Oh, hell, I can’t wait to see what you plan to do with that…”

She throws her head back and laughs out loud.  “God, you’re starting to sound like me,” Chris teases.

“Hey, I’m just making up shit as I go along,” she chuckles.  “But who could resist a variation of the red belt?” She shifts her weight, brushing her tits across his back, leaning to whisper in his ear.  “I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

She smiles at the goosebumps forming across his broad shoulders and the sigh he makes.  Emery feels a surge of confidence at the reaction he displays for her.  She sits back, grinding herself against his ass, feeling herself wet against him.  She locks her hands together, running her thumbs down his spine and pressing down hard with her fingertips as she travels down his back.  When she reaches his waist, she feathers her fingertips along his sides, repeating the technique a few times.  “That feels good, baby.  My back hurts from standing there all day.”

“I know, babe, I’ll make it all better,” she whispers.  She continues her loving caress, smiling when he brings his arm behind him to rest against her thigh.

Emery breaks the cookie into tiny pieces and lines them up along his spine, including the natural dip were Chris’s form caves in to allow for the curve of his ass.  She watches as the muscles across his back ripple with each touch as she listens to his even breaths.  He lets go of her leg and scratches his hip, and two pieces of the sinfully good cookie falls to the bed.  “Quit wiggling,” she scolds.

He laughs, “Yes, ma’am.  You’re in charge.”

Her eyes grow large, feeling emboldened by his words.  Chris is always encouraging her to let go; be free and give in to her deepest desires.  Her fangirl fantasies leap at the thought: the red belt of sex.  Slightly trembling, she reaches behind her for the belt, slowly dragging it along his legs as she brings it to her.

“Shit, Em,” he whispers, a catch in his breath. She lovingly turns the hybrid over in her hands, not really caring what happened to the original.  Anything before is his business, his forever is hers now.

Chris’s little red head takes a deep breath, settling the pounding in her heart and attempting to control the convulsions she feels between her legs.  “I think,” she says quietly, her voice shaking, “maybe I need to make sure you stay still?”

Chris clears his throat, but says nothing.

She slides off his bottom and crawls up beside him, grasping his wrist and moving his arm above his head on the bed, crossing it with the other one already rested there.  He raises his head to watch her, a soothing smile on his face, his eyes full of wonder.  She turns away shyly, blushing as he whispers, his voice full of emotion, “Emery Thomas, I love you.”

She wraps the belt around his wrists, weaving it around and pulling the end through the metal loop.  She gives it a tug and runs her manicured fingers under the edging of the fabric to make sure it’s not too tight.  Not that he would care.  “Damn right you do, Evans.  Remember that.”

She places one hand on his neck, squeezing, tilting his chin back with the other hand and forcefully claims his lips.  She catches his moan in her mouth, tangling her tongue with his, a tantalizing reminder of the chocolate kisses he shared with her earlier.  Her mouth pulls away from his, nipping his plump bottom lip before releasing it with a bounce.

“I love you too,” Emery whispers.  “Consider this an early birthday present.”

Chuckling, he whispers, “It’s my most favorite ever.”

Rising up, she runs her hands from his bound wrists around his sculpted arms to his broad shoulders, and back down his sides as she moves in place to straddle him again.

Emery leans forward for an open mouthed kiss against his pale skin, big enough to surround the cookie piece.  Her lips create a suction on Chris’s sensitive skin and her tongue teases around the cookie before flicking it into her mouth.  She chews slowly, exaggerating the delicious moans she makes.  His body shakes with laughter and a few cookie pieces roll to the side from their straight line.  “Evans, quit laughing, or I’m done; this is ridiculous.”

“It’s fuckin’ sexy,” he replies quietly.  “It’s sexy and silly; everything I love about you.”

She rolls her eyes, knowing he can’t see her.  She leans forward running her nose along his back towards the next bite, drawing her tongue around the cookie piece.  She kisses him again, enveloping the sweet cookie between her wet lips.  Touching her tongue to his slightly salty skin, she sucks the cookie into her mouth, pulling away with a light smacking sound.  “Sooo good,” she moans quietly as she chews the cinnamon treat.

Her kisses and nibbles continue up his back as she slowly slides up his body, dragging her full tits across his hard muscles.  Although she knows her weight has no bearing, she keeps him pinned to the bed, so the cookie pieces can’t fall.   She finishes her path, laying on top of his back, dripping wet and wanting him.  She quietly whispers in his ear, “Now can I have something else that’s sweet?”

Still bound, Chris rolls to the right, knocking her off and quickly flipping over her.  “I thought you were never gonna finish that damn cookie.”

***************************

Author’s Note: This story actually developed between a group of fangirls while eating cookies in Reading Market Terminal.  I swear it was the most sinful cookie to ever touch my lips.  As soon as I mumbled “I wanna have sex with this cookie,” the story ideas flew! @virtualgirlfriendsan said it had to be an Emery story!  But her “Mansi” stories are so amazing!  I knew silly, sexy and playful was definitely a Mansi and Chris story too.  In an alternate universe, Mansi and Emery would be best friends!  It only seemed right for us to both create “Cookies.”

Click here to read “Cookies” by @virtualgirlfriendsan.  You can find more of her work at @tellmeamarvelousstory

Posted on June 13, 2016 as a birthday present to Chris and his fandom

Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

 

Gas Money

gas money cover june 12 2016.jpg

Gas Money

a Mrs. Evans story

by avenger-nerd-mom

A future Chris and his wife prepare for another active day in the Evans’ household

Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, fluff, NSFW, hand job

Word Count 1389

“Hey, babe! Did you get the cash from the bank yesterday?” you call to him from the bathroom.

“Yea, what are you doing today?” Chris calls back, his voice raspy and damn sexy in the early morning.  “You told me, but I forgot.”

“I have to drive out to the food pantry.  I volunteer today and then it’s my turn to carpool Princess and her friends to dance class.  I have to be back in town by 3:15 to pick them up at school.”

You step through the bathroom door continuing to rub lotion into your cuticles, wondering when you last had a manicure.  Giving up stardom to be a wife and a mom just seemed like a better deal all those years ago.  A few small movie roles, a few television pilots, but Mrs. Evans/SuperMom is your favorite role these days.  The morning light flashes on your wedding ring, drawing attention to your aging hands.  “If I have time, I may go get my nails done.  I haven’t done that in ages,” you admit, wiggling your fingers at him, still reclined in bed, glasses propped up on his nose and a script resting on his sculpted chest as he reads.

You smile when he whistles at you.  “Nice ass, baby.  I’m a lucky man,” he says, his voice dripping with pride.

“You just remember that, Mister,” you reply, putting in your favorite earrings- the ones he gave you for your first Valentine’s Day together. “What have you got planned?” you ask.

His smile shows he’s up to something and his blue eyes hold a devilish charm.  “I’m gonna get the kids to school and then I’m meeting Mackie for 18 holes.”

“Hmmm…  How many drinks will that be?”  You ask, rummaging through the dresser for your favorite pair of jeans.

“Too many,” he guffaws.

“We haven’t had them over for dinner in a while.  Invite his family for a BBQ on Saturday?”

“Whatever you say, boss…  You look beautiful…  don’t go.  That’s why your mom is visiting.  She wants to get the kids ready for school.”

You giggle.  “Honey, you know your daughter will not go anywhere without an Elsa braid and she won’t let anyone else but me do it.  Raincheck?”

“Hell.  Why did I ever let her watch that old movie?  How did she get so spoiled?”  He laughs, watching you shimmy the jeans over your thick thighs, hopping lightly to pull them over your rounded hips.

Dripping with sarcasm, your voice battles back. “Hmmm… I have no idea who dotes on her every whim…”

“She’s just like her mother.  A spoiled brat,” he chuckles, rolling to place his glasses and script on the bedside table.  As he stretches you admire the way his muscles ripple across his back; the taper of his waist.

“Oh really?  Just for that, I’m NOT staying here to play with you, I’m going to help Mom.  You know the boys will be wound up for their swim lessons after school.  She’s getting to old for all that noise and nonsense.”

As you start to leave for the door, Chris calls out to you, “Hey, Mrs. Evans?  Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Rolling your eyes, you walk back to the bed and give him a quick kiss, knowing he’s going to pull you on top of him.  He does and you giggle, settling in by his side.  “I know you always build 10 minutes extra in the morning schedule.  Stay here.  Besides, I thought you needed cash for the gas station?”

He throws back the sheet and a $50 bill is sticking out of the waistband of his black Calvins.

“God, that’s why money is so dirty,” you laugh.

“Eww,” he groans in disgust.

“You know honey, you don’t have to pay me,” you drop your voice, running your nails under the waist of his pants, as his pulse quickens, “I’d play with you for free.”

“Aw, fuck,” he hisses out as you reach down his pants and grasp his firm cock. “Damn your hands are cold.”

“Let me warm them up,” you suggest, tenderly caressing his balls, rolling them gently between your fingers as he toys with your hair.  His sweet moan of delight fills your ears as you help him prepare for his day in the most loving way possible.

You glide your hands up over his soft skin, running your fingertips gently over the veiny ridges that grace his cock.   He twitches and jerks under your dainty caress.  You extract your hand from his warmth and pull down on the waistband allowing him freedom.  With loving care, you wiggle down the bed, resting your head at the start of his V.  Age has only made this man more beautiful to you and you respect his desire to stay in shape.  You wrap your fingertips around his shaft, tugging up and smile to yourself at his sharp inhale as he winds his fingers in your hair.  You pull him towards you and delicately kiss the tip of his head, wrapping your tongue around him for just a brief moment and collecting the sweet drop of precum he expels.

“Shit, only ten minutes?” he complains gruffly.

His voice adds to your building desire and your pussy squeezes repeatedly.  You slide your denim clad leg over his, each movement pushing the seam of your tight jeans between your folds.  His free hand cups under your ass and caresses between your legs.

You flick your tongue across his slit and return your hands to their task.  “I tried to wake you up for a shower, but you wouldn’t have it.”  Your left arm is somewhat trapped under you, but you position that hand to continue massaging his sac while your other hand grasps around his girth.  Teasing him with light strokes, you use the roll of his own skin to guide you up and down.  You sigh contently as he expands and grows stiff under your manipulation.  Slowly, you build to your natural pace; a rhythm you’ve known for years.  The strokes are exactly what he needs, pulling up slowly, just under his tip and twisting to push back down hard against his base.  The repeated tugs are his undoing and you can hear the smack of his lips as they part and release a quiet moan.

As he starts to buck beside you, you turn your head slightly and kiss the protruding vein on his Adonis, applying pressure with your tongue before adding your teeth.  Branding him with your mark for the day as he comes in your hands, spilling his seed across his chest, before halting his rise in the comfort of your warm bed together.

You roll back and smile at your work, licking your finger for a drop of his sweetness.  “Goood morning!” he chuckles, wrapping the sheet over his mess and pulling you up to his mouth.  “You’re worth every penny,” he teases as he kisses your plump, needy lips.

You both groan at the knock on the door, but smile at the innocent little voice asking to have her hair fixed.  “Mommy will be out in a minute, sweetie.  Go tell the boys to be ready!”

You kiss your charming husband again, his beard showing more gray these days, scratching against your cheek.  Your tongue lingers inside his mouth and pulls out with a flick of your tongue against his teeth.  “Well, Mr. Evans, once again, you’ve made us late!  You have five minutes to get ready, get the kids in the car, and head to school.”

As you rise from the bed, Chris squeezes your hip. “I love you, Mrs. Evans. There’s another $50 in the top drawer. I’ll take the girls to dance, you go get your nails done.  Your hands were so good to me I think they deserve special treatment.”  He takes your hand, kissing the palm.  “For that, I’ll give you gas money any day!”

Grabbing the money from the bed, you bounce to the dresser, announcing, “I still would have done it for free.”

He pulls on his jeans, laughing.  “And that’s how you earned the title ‘Mrs. Evans.’”

You roll your eyes at him and playfully toss him a t-shirt as you exit the room, yelling at the kids to get moving.  “Hurry up, gang, Daddy made us late. Again!”

Click here for more Mrs. Evans…

Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom