Chris X Reader
A future Chris Evans has an encounter with his wife on what is scheduled to be a busy Saturday
Warnings: NSFW, language, adult situations, oral sex
Word Count 1187
The steam seeps under the door adding comfortable warmth to the room. You knock on the door and wait for his response. “Can’t stay away can you?” he teases, his charm emanating from his vocal chords.
You roll your eyes and open the door. A wave of damp heat washes over you as you step to the counter and open the cabinet. “Not now, honey, I just needed to brush my teeth before I go to the store.”
“That’s fine. I didn’t want you right now anyway.” You can hear the laughter in his voice egging you on.
Brushing your teeth, you can imagine the vision behind the curtain…
Your man, six feet of solid muscle. He’s in training mode again and the extra work shows. It’s harder now that he’s older, but he loves the additional challenge. Leaning into the counter, you close your eyes. You see his smile, still so youthful and easy going, lighting up his deep blue eyes. The laugh lines are deeper now and the beard is more gray than he likes… The strong arms that hold you every night still look just as good as they did when you first really saw him on the big screen. You knew “Cap” before, but for you it was the scene when he hurt his arm- he was complaining about it just yesterday, like an old war injury- keeping the helicopter from leaving. That scene alone took you back to the theater three times and had you calling your agent. “Get me in a movie with Chris Evans!”
Best decision you ever made…
Your mind jumps from sexy thoughts and memories to the list for the day. Bank, groceries, oil change, gym… Princess needs new ballet tights; the boys need soccer cleats… Dog food. Don’t forget dog food. Breaking your reverie, you sigh deeply.
In the mirror covered with droplets of condensation you admire your own appearance. You don’t get the roles you were once offered, but soccer mom is a better title than Hollywood starlet any day. Your laugh lines are deeper too, that’s the one thing never lacking in the Evans household- laughter. You pull tight at the skin around your eyes, shaking your head. Nature dictates aging, and you aren’t about to mess with that process. You decide not to count any additional gray hairs of your own today. You turn sideways rising up on your tiptoes. Ass is still in fine shape, and boobs are still perky. Several hours at the gym each week helps keep you happy and fit. Still, there was a time when you would have entered the room and Chris would have pulled you into the shower with him, clothed or not…
You rinse off your brush and put it back in the cup. Moving to exit the room, you stop in your tracks. Your schedule today is one you set. You don’t have any place to be. You don’t have anyone else to answer to. The kids are with family for the weekend. You take a deep breath and remind yourself to relax because there will be times you need the memory of this moment just to make it through to the next one.
You step over to the shower and pull the curtain back. The look of surprise on Chris’s face makes you happy for this moment of spontaneity. There just never seems to be enough time for moments like these… You bite your lip as you take him all in, looking even better than the vision in your mind, even after all these years together. “I’m almost finished. Whatdya doin’, Mrs. Evans?”
Wordlessly you bend slightly and lean forward, not using your hands, pulling him, soft and limp, into your mouth.
“Ah, fuck,” he whispers. “Hi.”
You raise your loving eyes to look up at him, a smile reflected there as you tend to your wishes. You like taking him in while he is still soft, able to take in more at once. For a few minutes you simply roll him around in your mouth with your tongue, pulling in as much of him as you can, knowing the task becomes more difficult for you when he is fully erect and hard. You enjoy the power you have over him now as he becomes aroused at your touch. As he begins to stiffen, you lower to your knees in your own form of worship, bracing one hand on the edge of the tub. You close your eyes as random sprays of water hit you in the face. Chris shifts slightly to block the water and rests his knee on the edge of the tub to be closer to you. The edge of your mouth releases from his girth, your lips forming a smile when you realize he is holding his breath.
You reach up and run your hand through the trail covering his belly. You slide off with a pop and whisper, “Breathe, baby.”
He chuckles and runs his hand across your cheek as you finally take him into your hand. He takes a deep breath and lets it out as a hiss. “So good to me,” his words choke out.
You guide his hard cock back to your accepting mouth. His excitement causes him to truly be too much for you, but you continue to take as much as you can, stretching around him. Sliding on and off his cock, he clenches his fists at his sides. You hum your approval communicating for him to wind his fingers in your hair, pushing a little further with each advance. Your throat opens and he pushes as far as he knows you can handle. Your hand grasps his shaft turning and pulling, hitting your lips with each of his thrusts. Getting sloppy, your mouth legitimately waters for him. His quiet moans reach to your core, building an awareness of your own sudden need for more.
Enjoying yourself, knowing he is melting as you kneel before him, you know there is no rush. Shifting on your knees you balance your weight evenly and use your other hand to massage his thigh. The tight muscles roll under the pressure of your hands and you knead with all your strength. Your motions carry up his leg, applying pressure at the base of his shaft. With one hand in your hair, his other hand gently slides along your jawline, moving to tug at your lip, to feel himself entering your pretty hole every time he forces inside. Your breathing is heightened at the desire this builds in you. Your grip becomes tighter and you take more of his length to the back of your throat, nearing your gagging point. His body begins to tighten but you change tactics, deciding you will take advantage of a lazy Saturday morning. Slowing your progression, you pull off to a stop.
“Evil woman,” he chuckles tugging at your hair. “I should have known.”
You wipe your saliva with the back of your hand and rise with a smile. “Meet me in the bedroom,” you tease, removing your soaked t-shirt as you exit the steam filled room.
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