A Fine Gentleman

A Fine Gentleman

an Emery&Chris fanfic

by avenger-nerd-mom

Word Count: 4632

Warning: LEMON- oral sex, fingering, adult content, jealousy, pregnancy, language

Summary: Tired and worn out, Chris and Emery still manage to enjoy their limo ride after the Oscars.

*special thanks to TheWife101 for the photo edit*

Click here to read the first part of this story, Surprises Ahead

February 2019

The flash of lights blind and shouts echo in Emery’s ears. Fortunately the walk out after the awards show is shorter than the red carpet walk going into the Dolby Theater. Emery moves along quickly, not stopping to sign autographs or pose for quick selfies as her handsome husband ushers her along with speed. When the limo comes into view, she wobbles on her low sling-back heels, unable to hide her smile. She tugs the sleeve of Chris’s form fitting tux, and points. “Is that Henry?”  

Chris can’t hide his smile either. “You surprised?” He waves to the crowd, and they turn, allowing assembled press to snap a few more candid photos. Putting his hand on the small of her back, he gently pushes her forward. “Your chariot awaits.”

“Don’t we have to attend any after parties?” She asks, turning to wave at the group of adoring fans.

“Oh, I’m sure the studio execs won’t be happy, but I told them we had safety concerns, you needed rest and since I worked so hard,” he rolls his eyes, joking that presenting was a challenge. “I’d rather get away and relax instead. You need outta those shoes.”  

Looping her arm in his, she continues towards the car, patting the arm of his velvet suit. “Thanks. I appreciate when you get all ‘Papa Bear’ and watch over us.” Her free hand curves under her protruding belly. “You’re gonna make a great dad.”

“I hope so, Kitten,” he sighs, a hint of uncertainty and exhaustion in his voice.

The crowd is so loud, no one can hear their private conversation. Henry, Chris’s driver for events in LA, steps forward to take over protection as she turns and blows kisses to the crowd, shouting her appreciation and love as well to all his fans as he waves in return. Chris opens the car door and settles her in as Henry walks around the front of the car, readying the door for Chris. When her door closes, she kicks off her heels before settling the dress around her.

“Hey, beautiful.” Chris’s smooth baritone fills the car, warm and calm as the door closes, shutting out the roaring crowd.

“Hey, handsome!” As though it’s been hours, not mere seconds since they were last together. “Look at you, in a tux! You always get so dressed up to go pick up your dates?” She playfully tugs on his tie, unraveling it before letting it fall against his chest. Chris wraps his arms around her, finally relaxing in her hold.

He pulls back and his blue eyes wash over her face, and in the passing light of other cars, she can see his love. He caresses her red hair back, tangling his fingers in the cascade of curls over her shoulder. “Red,” he scoffs, before his lips tenderly land on hers. “Who’d have thought I’d fall for a redhead.” Having been apart for weeks, and still catching up the last few days together, the kisses increase with intensity quickly and a quiet moan escapes her lips as his hand glides down her exposed thigh and back up. Emery grips the lapels of his jacket, pushing him back against the seat as the limo speeds down the highway to their destination, wherever that might be.

“I missed you,” she breathes heavily.

He chuckles, “You saw me this morning.”

“It was too long ago,” she whispers. Her hand slides down from his neck and edges along the line of shiny buttons of his pressed shirt, following down to the waist of his pants.

“I missed you too,” he moans quietly against her ear.

“Show me,” she whispers, feeling bold behind the tinted window. She pushes him back, rising up on the leather seat, dropping one bare foot to the space between his legs. Her hand curves over his covered cock and he thrusts against her palm.  

With one hand, Chris holds her hip to help balance her round belly, while the other hand glides around the back of her leg. He squeezes and cups her ass, her cheeks barely covered by the skimpy little satin undies under the designer gown. “You feel good,” he whispers against her throat, his mouth igniting small fires all across her flesh.

His beard causes a light burn to her skin but she doesn’t care, as she continues to caress him through his pants. She’s missed him, missed his touch and wants him to know she needs him badly. She lowers her body, her lips back to his while he continues to run his fingers over her ass and down the space between her legs.

“You’re so warm,” he growls between kisses. “I bet you’re hot and wet.” His fingers nimbly shove the fabric to the side. Seeking permission, he asks, “Can I see?”

“God, yes,” she pants, wanting to feel his touch.

Chris slowly dips his longest finger inside her, and is met with an already pooling wetness, caused simply by being near him. She can hear his sigh and a change in his breathing as well. “So perfect,” he barely breathes out against my ear.

“Shh… Shut up,” she responds, shaking her head back, her body already quaking in his arms. “You talk too much.”

He chuckles again. He shifts on the seat so his arm can have more freedom to move under her flowing dress. And he uses that to his advantage, slowly sliding deep in and out, avoiding her clit. He pulls the wet up with a hooked finger and slides it over her outer lips, pushing against them, tugging at her skin. “I want you so bad…” The wide span of his large hand allows his other fingers to caress against her thighs at the same time. A jolt washes through her, and she chokes back a groan. Her head drops forward, resting on his shoulder and he breathes against her neck, whispering sweet words of affection and temptation.

He varies the rhythm with which he enters and pulls out, sometimes fast and sometimes slow, sometimes gentle, sometimes rough. Pulling all the way out, he slaps her ass and she finally releases a guttural moan. He shifts them on the leather seat as the city lights flash in the window, laying her back. Chris pulls her dress higher up on her waist, exposing her rounded pregnant belly and opening her to him. He rests his thigh between her open legs, changing positions to enter even deeper as he slides in a second finger. His digits remain deep as they continue to penetrate her, scissoring back and forth.  

Emery grabs the sleeve of his jacket, gripping his arm as she bucks against his hand. His touch and the friction of the satin panties against her tender lips has her writhing beneath him. She never takes her eyes from his face, watching the range of emotions cross his visage. Looks of love and lust as he gives to her.

She feels herself dripping around him, worrying the designer gown might be getting wet. She naturally squeezes her walls on his fingers and he begins to grind his palm against her mound. His other hand cradles the back of her neck as she thrusts up, aching to finish. A small squeak escapes from her lips and he murmurs, “Come for me, sweetheart, don’t hold back.”

His deep, smoky voice adds to her need to release. A few more thrusts, along with his other fingers squeezing her outer lips, and she lifts up for one final push against his palm. Her orgasm breaks and she squeezes him tightly as she comes all over his hand. He slows up his movements, matching her breathing as she comes back down, slowly sliding his hand out and repositioning her now dripping panties. He gently rubs his palm over her covered mound.  

“Beautiful; simply beautiful,” he murmurs, picking her up and placing her in his lap. “Hey, hey, are you okay?”

Tears well in her eyes and she shakes her head, giggling. “Yea, fucking fantastic… That was just…,” she nuzzles in tight against his neck, holding him close as he caresses his hands over her still quaking body. “Exactly what I needed.” She kisses his neck tenderly, reaching up to wipe away the pooled tears. “Stupid pregnancy hormones. Oh, honey, I’ve missed you so much… Thank you.”

“Well you don’t have to thank-”

“Excuse me,” a voice comes in through the speakers. Emery blushes and hides her face in his blue velvet coat.

Chris eyes her with concern and replies, “What’s up, Henry?”

“Boss, just wanted to let you know we’re about fifteen minutes from our destination. Is she hungry?”

“Always,” Emery mumbles. “Burgers would be great!” She yells through the intercom.

Chris holds her close, hiding his smile in her hair. “Thanks, Henry.”

Righting them on the back seat again, he lifts her chin, reading the expression on her face. “He couldn’t hear us; you don’t have to be embarrassed.”

Emery slides off his lap and reaches for napkins from the mini-bar. Stuffing them under her dress, he helps her delicately clean between her legs. “I know… It’s,” she sighs.  “Any of our assistants always know what’s going on, so it’s logical for him to think-”

“Yea, he’s gonna think that we did something. I’m in the backseat of a limo, after an awards show, with the hottest lady in town.” She frowns and he covers her hand with his, running his thumb over the sparkling diamond on her finger before giving a gentle squeeze. “He can think whatever the fuck he wants, but we’re the only ones that have to know…” Chris opens the mini fridge, and twisting the top off a beer, takes a drink before reaching in to offer a bottle of water to her. He looks down into her sweet face. “I make no apologies for how I feel about you, and for wanting to show you how much I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Chris.” She scratches the scruff on his chin. “You’re right. It shouldn’t matter what we do. What matters is that it’s right for us, what we want.”

Putting his arm around her neck and tucking her back to his side, he sighs. “Besides, we’re married,” he chuckles, resting his hand on her plump belly.

She sighs happily, snuggling into his chest and reaching her arm under his coat to rest her hand on his waist. “Best decision I ever made,” she giggles.

He laughs, kissing the top of her head. “Are you sure? The other day you told me you weren’t even sure you liked me.” He teases, reminding her of their discussion about surprises,  caressing down the back of her arm. His tone drops. “And I saw you talking to Momoa.”

Emery chuckles. “Christopher Evans, are you seriously jealous?”

“You had your hands all up his pink velvet jacket, and he was rubbing your pregnant belly!” Chris practically shouts.

“God, that man is like a solid brick wall, I swear.” She can hardly bite back her laughter.

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Indignance rings through his voice.

Emery blanches at the reference. “Ew, stop.” She swallows hard, just the words making her feel ill. “Chris, he saw I wasn’t feeling well and was just being friendly. He was telling me about how Lisa dealt with her morning sickness, and he gave me a peppermint he had in his pocket. I swear,” she crosses her fingers over her heart, “you are the only superhero for me.”

He’s still grumbling and complaining moments later, when the car comes to a stop and they lurch forward. Henry’s voice comes back through the intercom. “After I deliver you two, I’ll drive back out and get some food.”

“Don’t worry about it, Henry. We’ll order in. Thanks for getting us here safe, man. I can always count on you.” Chris reaches up to click off the intercom. “You know I’m not done with you tonight. Flirting with other men, DC men? You deserve to be punished for that…” He wiggles his eyebrow, laughing and shaking his head.

“I flirted with Rudd too, but that’s a given.” She smirks.

Chris playfully pinches her arm.

“What?” She rubs the spot on her arm. “You were looking at JLo’s ass. You can’t even deny that. Shit, you could bounce a quarter off it.” She awkwardly twists on the bench seat. “Think my ass will ever be tight again?”

Squeezing her back side, he says, “I have no complaints about your ass.” He shakes his head and points to the dark window in front of them, silently indicating to the driver. “If we order delivery, we don’t actually have to see anyone we know for a few days.”

Emery leans back against the seat. “I like the idea of being alone, just us. In another few months, we won’t have a lot of time for that.” She tilts her head, looking out the tinted windows to their location. “Where exactly have you whisked me away this time?”

Chris hands her the shoes, tangled at his feet. “Stay in the car till I come around; you’ll see.”

He exits the car and she takes another drink of her water, giggling at his jealousy. Like he has any worries. She’s not going anywhere, perfectly content with her crazy, happy life.

Muffled through the closed vehicle, she hears Chris talking to Henry, but can’t make out the words. She jumps when he places his hand on the window. “You’ve looked it all over, it’s safe, now go the hell away. I know you’re just watching out for us, but we don’t need chaperones,” he laughs, opening the door for her. “Emery?” He reaches his hand in, and she takes it, as he helps her gracefully out of the limo.

Chris laughs, his breath warm on his neck, holding her close as Henry drives away.

“Chris, what is this place? It’s beautiful.”

The secluded house sits behind a line of trees, a small Spanish- style stucco ranch. In the distance, Emery can hear waves crashing along the shore. The heavenly aroma of hibiscus blooms reach her nose, hanging from the pergola over the front entry. Bright lights shine behind the stained-glass front doors, but the rest of the house is dark.

“It’s ours for the next few days. A friend of mine, he’s out filming on location and he’s never here; he’s letting us use it.” He takes her hand, leading her up to the front porch. “I feel like this should be more dramatic, like I should carry you in, or something.”

She blushes, running her hand over her pregnant belly. “It’s okay, Chris, really. I wouldn’t want you to trip and drop us, or something.”

She follows him up the front steps, leaning on his shoulder as he opens the door and welcomes her in. The foyer is grand, with a large display of fresh flowers and her suitcases and his bags next to a set of winding stairs leading to the upper level. He dips his head, “Hey, I didn’t really get a chance to admire you in that dress… Turn so I can see you.”

She follows his direction and the train of the dress wraps around her feet. Slightly dizzy from the dramatic turn, she rests her palm on the marble table to balance herself. “Not my favorite part of the job,” she admits. “Actor’s wife. Getting all dressed up, like a child’s doll. This is-”

“Amazing. Stunning. Perfection.” Chris finishes her sentence. Taking his phone from an inner pocket on his suit coat, he reaches up and snaps a photo of the two of them together.

Emery giggles. “Yea. I can’t just pull it off. That’s gonna take a few minutes. Actually,” she looks down the front of her dress, “I’m taped and pinned in this thing. It’s not as sexy as you’d think.”

“Then we think very differently, cause you look sexy as hell.” In a quick motion, he moves in front of her, his warm, calloused hands reaching under the edges of the plunging v-neck gown. Sliding up, his thumbs press against her breast bone as his fingertips work their way under the moss green chiffon dress. The color looks amazing with her hair and the gauzy design looks something like a Roman Goddess would wear. His goddess. When his hands glide over her swollen breasts, her breath catches and he stops to circle his palms, her nipples pebbling under his command. His eyes follow his movement while she watches his hands, the veins in his wrists, her skin tightening into goosebumps when his cold cufflinks drag across her skin. His hands continue their worshipping ascent, pushing the cloth back as he nears her throat.

Exposed, her nipples harden in the cool air, tingling and tight, wanting more of his touch. Wanting his mouth. She wants his beautiful, lush lips on her, sucking her. “Chris, I-”

“Shhh…” He slowly pushes the straps down her shoulders, letting it fall from her arms. “Let me admire you…”

He steps forward, reaching around behind her back to find the small zipper between her shoulder blades. Her pregnant belly makes the reach further around than usual, but his lush velvet jacket pushes against her exposed breasts and she gasps. Pulling her arms free from her dress, she slides her hands between them, struggling with the buttons on his tuxedo coat. He leans closer, trapping her hands between them and whispers in her ear. “There’s time for that later. No rush, my dear, my sweet Kitten.”

Slowly, painfully, his hands slide the zipper down the back of her dress. As it opens over her rounded ass, it finally falls to the ground. Free of her confines, and save for the skimpy satin underwear, she stands before him, completely naked.

Chris steps back and sucks in his breath. “So beautiful… and all mine.” His hand wraps around her wrist, pulling her to him, stepping over the discarded gown. He looks down to the pile of green organza at their feet. “Stunning, but this is the way you should always be… naked.” He cocks his head, furrowing his brow. “I’ve never seen you look more beautiful than you do right now, Em. Pregnancy is a good look for you.” He steps closer. He reaches his hands through her fiery red hair, tangling his fingers in the loose romantic coiff of curls and small plaits, pulling out pins and tossing them to the floor. She reaches up to help, but the look he shoots stops her. “So many pins,” he chuckles quietly, turning her around and bowing her head forward to unpin the back of her hair. She smiles, feeling it cascade down her back, tickling her shoulders. With her eyes raised, she watches them in a mirror across the entryway. She looks small and submissive next to his striking form, regal and gallant in his tux. Arranging the curls down her back, his hands brush over her skin, and she can see the wicked smile on his face, reflected in the mirror. He looks up and their eyes meet. “There she is… My girl. My Emery.” Possession. Pride.

He lifts her arm, twisting it to kiss the freckles on her shoulder. He runs his hand down her arm, pulling the Harry Winston bracelet off and tossing it on the table with a clink. “What’s that little smile on your face? You look like the cat who licked the cream.”

“Not yet,” she blushes, giggling and dropping her head. His eyes pop and he laughs as she’s embarrassed. “Shit; did I say that? Oh, God.” She rubs her forehead.

“I’m going to hold you to that promise,” he says wickedly.

She giggles, turning to face him, helping him to remove his cufflinks, and he tosses them, along with his watch, on the table as well.

He licks his lips before capturing her pretty mouth. Emery moans at his onslaught, loving the taste of the beer that clings to his tongue. She can feel his lips curve to a smug smile at her reaction. She tries to catch his bottom lip, but he keeps pulling away from her, teasing her. Instead, he captures hers, tugging and pulling it between his teeth, flicking his tongue across the tender flesh. He attacks her with his lips, teeth and tongue, using his hand to hold her sweet face in place. “I love the little moans and whines you make… Can you feel what you do to me?”

Emery sighs, murmuring against his mouth, his clothed cock hard against her thigh. His mouth continues to claim hers as his hands roam down her sides, caressing her heavy belly, reaching between her thighs. She instinctively moves her legs apart for Chris to better reach her inner folds. He drags his finger back and forth over the wet silk covering her mound. Gripping the elastic, he gives a little tug, jostling her against him. The brush of her bare breasts against the velvet lapels of his suit increases her desire, each touch feeding her fire. She pushes into him, wanting his caress. She’s already dripping, still wet from their play in the limo. She gasps when he pushes the fabric aside, sliding his finger into her sweet hole. He holds her up tightly with his other hand when her knees collapse. “Chris, please,” she moans. “I can’t… I can’t support myself.”

He chuckles, his breath hot in her hair as he whispers, “I’ve got you,” before nibbling at her earlobe.

“Take me to bed,” Emery whines. “I need you, I need this.”

“No rush, love,” he repeats, watching their reflection in the mirror.  

She can see little marks forming along her neck, from the repeated bitings she’s received, and watches Chris’s hand disappear inside her silk panties. His eyes connect with hers in their reflection and she sees the look of triumph cross his face as he slips in another finger, sinking deep inside her. He pumps in and out slowly, then rough, then slow again, his mouth biting at her shoulder. His other hand grasps her breast and rolls her taut nipple between his calloused fingers. “Oh, fuck, Chris. That’s it, that’s-”

She can’t finish her thoughts as the wave of another orgasm starts to pulse through her body and he pulls away from her.

“Chris!” she whimpers. “Don’t stop!”

He laughs, the sound echoing in the dark, empty foyer as he drops to his knees, pushing her against the marble table. Yanking her panties down her legs, Chris burrows his tongue into the spot recently vacated by his fingers and rapidly laps up her juice, fucking her with his mouth. His beard burns against her tender skin. Her cries and mewling increase as she pulls at his hair.

She looks down to her favorite sight. Chris Evans, her husband, on his knees, just for her. His hands grab her ass and guide her closer to him. Just a few quick flicks with his skilled muscle and she breaks, coming on his tongue, filling his mouth. Chris moans against her, his vibrations completing her. He slows, gently bathing her with his tongue now, as she slowly floats back to reality, sinking down into his waiting arms.

“Chris,” she sighs, sated and exhausted, “are you planning to kill me before we even get to the bedroom?”

Chuckling, he wraps his arm around her back and lifts behind her knees, “We’re just getting started,” he promises.

She curls her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. “Don’t wear me out before we even begin,” she warns.

Even with her added baby weight, Chris scales the stairs quickly and confidently, flicking on the hall light at the top of the steps. He walks down the hall, peeking in various rooms.

She lifts her head and looks at him. “Do you even know where we’re going?”

“Shhh…” He bites her shoulder playfully. His tone teases, “I try to make this big, romantic gesture, and you’re making jokes.”

She kisses his cheek. “Would you have me any other way?”

“Perfect, just the way you are…” He finds the room he was searching for, and reaches in, turning on the lights. A muted glow fills in behind him as she kicks out her foot, stopping him from going through the door.

“Chris?” She breathes out slowly. “You’re overdressed for the occasion. Can you put me down please?”

Kissing her forehead, he complies with her request, sliding her body down against his. “Are you planning to remedy that?”

Reaching for the buttons on his coat, she undoes them one by one. Sliding her hands up over his chest, she glides the jacket from his shoulders, letting it land at their feet. She grabs the tie hanging loosely around his neck and lays it around hers, the ends resting atop the curve of her breasts. Emery looks up, his eyes on her hands. She tugs the ends, and drags her fingertips over her nipples, causing her to shiver as they peak at her own touch. He smiles down at her and rests his hands on her hips. “That could be fun later,” he taunts.

“Not long enough to hold me in place,” she laughs, speaking from experience. Her scent on his beard overwhelms her and she feels another rush of wetness between her legs. Stepping forward, she squints her eyes to undo the tiny button at his neck. “How the fuck did your large hands fasten this thing?” she grumbles. Finally getting it loose, she drives her hands down the row of buttons, popping each one loose and teasing over his skin with a light touch of her hands. She smiles when he sucks in his breath as she yanks the shirttail from the waist of his pants, undoing the final one.

“Speed it up, you’re killing me.” He sighs heavily.

“Not yet,” she winks. “‘No rush, love.’ Isn’t that what you said?”  She slowly runs her hands over his chiseled torso, admiring the way his pale skin moves under her touch, tracing over his new tat. Reaching up, skimming under the collar of the shirt, she pushes it down over his broad shoulders and lets it fall to the floor, landing on top of his jacket.

Helping her with the belt buckle, he chuckles when she slaps his hands away. “I should haul you over my lap and spank your ass; using my words against me.”

Freeing the snap on his pants, she breathes warmly against his chest. “I might like that.” She cocks her eyebrow and smiles wickedly as she carefully lowers to her knees in front of him.

“Saucy little thing, aren’t you?” His head drops back against the doorframe and he leans his upper body back, straining his hips forward for her touch.

Quickly she fumbles with his shoes and socks, moving them aside. With quick hands, Emery pulls the zipper down, her palm cupping under him. Gently she squeezes his balls and blows a hot breath across his covered cock. He clears his throat and shifts his hips, pushing himself against her hand. “‘Kitten?”

“Hmmm,” she hums absently, letting go and reaching up for the waistband of his pants. The back of her hand grazes the sensitive skin on his lower belly, earning a groan from him. The heat throbs between her legs at the animalistic, hungry sound. His momentary lack of control fires her up, knowing she makes him feel just as hot and needy. “Such a fine gentleman, letting me come first…” Clawing at the rich, dark fabric, she pushes his dress pants down the length of his legs, ready to suck on his thick, veiny cock. “No rush at all,” she murmurs before sucking him between her plump, red lips.

Click here to read Late Night Snack

If you want to know more about Emery and Chris, read the novella Georgia on My Mind, and their additional stories

Copyright © 2019 avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

 

Chasing Winter

The real life couple who inspired my published novel, Chasing Winter, are celebrating their 20th wedding anniversary soon! Help them celebrate by downloading their story FREE!
******

Dear Santa,
I think Daddy needs a girlfriend. He needs someone to take care of him. She has to cook and like outdoor stuff. She has to like kids, ‘cause I have a little brother. And she has to be pretty, like the Christmas Princess. I love that movie! I want Daddy’s girlfriend to be nice like the princess and be good to everyone. She can’t be mean, like the Ice Queen!
Oh, and there’s another thing I want. I’ll tell you when I see you at the Christmas Pageant!
Love, Jennifer

Grading the students’ papers, Noel Winter lays the child’s Christmas letter down on her desk and wonders exactly what surprises might be in store this Christmas… Jennifer’s father, Rex Presley, made quite an impression at Parent Conferences. And it had nothing to do with his plaid coat or ruggedly, handsome good looks. He’s got a chip on his shoulder, and his hands full, raising two kids on his own. So why can’t she stop thinking about him?

 

******

The novel includes my writer ‘trademarks,’ a strong, sassy female character, a handsome male hero who needs rescuing, humor, fluffy smut, and yes, even a shower scene!

Please download your FREE COPY today!

 

All my readers have been so wonderfully supportive! I’d love to see this novel push to the top of the charts in the next few days! Share the love, spread the news! My gift to you for encouraging me to keep up with my dreams- Chasing Winter for FREE!

Thank you!

Love,

Cass

Grease Monkey

Grease Monkey

*an Emery&Chris story*

by avenger-nerd-mom

It’s a hot Georgia summer, so Chris and Emery share an afternoon at home, enjoying the air conditioning and a fresh shower

Warnings: NSFW, fluffy smut, oral sex

Word Count: 2581

Get to know Emery and Chris in their novella Georgia on My Mind

August 2018

Walking towards the garage, Emery can hear her brother’s music pounding through the speaker system. It’s a wonder the neighbors haven’t complained. Moving closer to the open bay doors, Emery can’t take her eyes off her handsome man, laying under the car. Chris is tinkering around under the front chassis, tapping his foot to the 90s beat. The shirt sleeves are pushed up, exposing the tat of the Aries ram on his bicep, and the hem is twisted around his waist, exposing his side flank, a little beefy, slightly out of shape from a summer at rest. She’s not sure where she wants to nibble and lick first. She clears her throat.

“You look like something from a photo shoot,” she comments, walking in to set down a tray of drinks and sandwiches. The room is already getting too hot to stay outside long. “Do you even know what your doing?”

Grabbing the bumper, he pushes the creeper out from under the car and sits up with a smile. “Parker taught me how to tighten the thing.”

Her laughter echoes in the room. “The thing? Real technical term there… “ Her eyes rake over his muscular body again before letting out a whelp. “In a Cap shirt?” She fusses, handing him a glass of sweet iced tea.

Taking a long gulp, he hides his displeasure for the chilled Southern refreshment. Reaching for the little white fan laying next to him, he pulls the shirt away from his body, and aims it up. “It’s the one you got at the the Goodwill shop. Not one of the ‘good’ ones,” he chuckles, running his other hand over his beard, wiping away sweat from his upper lip. In the process, he gets grease on his cheek.

“Hmph,” she grumbles, walking over to offer her brother a glass, carrying the jug with her. Parker nods his thanks, gulping it down quickly and holding out for more. “It’s too hot out here. Y’all gonna be done soon?”

“God, I hope so,” Chris chuckles, wiping his greasy fingers on the tattered shirt.

Parker good naturedly flips him off. “Well, since you don’t know what you’re doing under there anyway, I guess we can call it a day. Besides I have to pick up Jonna Lee at six.” Smacking his lips from the last gulp of the second glass, he hands the empty mason jar back to his sister. “I better go get cleaned up.”

“Shave, little brother, you’re too skitchy.”

“Since when do you complain about ‘skitchy?” Chris asks, sneaking up behind and sweeping her off the ground, spinning her in a circle to face him. He gently sits his wife back down on her booted foot. He kisses the tip of her nose.

He smirks, hearing Parker mumble under his breath, “God, y’all are the most ‘married’ people I know…”

Chris raises his eyebrow. “You should be so lucky some day, kid.” He smiles back down on his wife. “Not everyone gets as lucky as me.” Leaning back, he looks at her boot. “What did the physical therapist say?”

“Good news,” she taps his chest, pushing herself away from his sweaty grasp. “God, you stink!” She wrinkles her nose. “Starting tomorrow, I can wear shoes a few hours a day, and try to walk as normal as possible.”

“I don’t have to carry you up the stairs each night, now?” He chuckles, reaching for her again as she steps away from his grasp.

“Oh no, I think that’s added to the marriage contract now. Every night. No matter what.” Her stomach blanches from the smell of grease and motor oil. “Really. It’s so hot in here, every smell is making me sick.” She looks at her phone. “If you’re gonna be out at her place by six, you better get flyin’,” she addresses Parker. “I’m goin’ back inside.”

She leaves the two men, fighting over the plate of sandwiches.

***

Standing at the sink in two shoes, she balances on her tender foot, as instructed by the therapist. The door clangs open and she can smell him the minute he enters the house. The August summer heat is getting to her, and his manly pheromones are driving her crazy, but the odor of grease and oil has got to go. “Don’t bring those smelly clothes in here,” she yells out. “Strip on the back porch, let ‘em air out. We’ll wash ‘em later.”

“Woman, you’re crazy,” he mumbles, but she hears the door close again. She shakes her head, wiping her hands on the hand embroidered dish towels her aunt gave her as a wedding gift. Emery turns down the heat on the crock pot. The roast smells amazing, rosemary and garlic filling the air. She laughs when Chris streaks through the kitchen, naked as a jaybird, yelling back over his shoulder, “Meet me upstairs in five minutes.”

She laughs, listening to his steady footsteps landing on each tread, the dogs chasing and nipping at his heels.

“Fuck, bring up some towels,” he yells down from above. “Didn’t know they weren’t put up!”

“Got it!” Emery finishes her glass of tea, popping a mint in her mouth. She sets the timer on the oven and walks over to grab a few towels from the laundry room. She loves their little house in Savannah, glad he decided they could keep it. They’d worked hard, building it into their dream, making long overdue renovations. The second garage hadn’t been necessary but Chris had enjoyed spending time with Parker and his friends, working on car projects over the summer. On her way through the living room, she reaches for the basket of laundry she’d folded earlier in the day. She likes that the house is peaceful and quiet, not constantly full of people, like visiting Boston. Savannah was theirs, their quiet place to relax and unwind.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, she looks up, willing to face the challenge. Shifting the basket to her hip, she pulls on the railing, willing herself to walk slow and steady up the stairs in two shoes. Her ankle feels weak, unaccustomed to freedom from the boot. After ages, she finally reaches the top, dropping the basket by the door to the guest bath. She pulls out the towels for him, and enters their newly remodeled room, having moved her office downstairs earlier in the summer, before the boot was needed.

The upstairs is stuffy and she turns down the thermostat, hoping the house will cool off as the sun sets. She giggles, hearing his voice echo off the shower walls as he sings and raps the chorus of a song from the afternoon playlist. “Like raisin’ a teenager,” she chuckles, seeing the pile of clothes from his morning workout littered across the floor and finding a damp towel from his morning shower. She scratches her hairline, shaking her head. When she opens the bathroom door, a billow of hot steamy air assualts her, the car odors still hanging there. “More soap, I can still smell the car, ya grease monkey.” She flings the towel over the shower bar and yanks back the curtain. “Kiss?”

“A kiss? All you did was bring me a towel.” He grins. “I’m not sure that’s worthy of a kiss.”

She leans forward and licks her lip. “It is if you want me to kiss something else when you get out.”

“Yes, ma’am. Gimme some sugar,” he laughs, planting a wet kiss on her readied lips, water dripping from his nose onto her cheek. It had become their joke after he’d secretly teased all her aunts for using the decidedly Southern expression repeatedly during their annual reunion together.

“Some good sugar,” she chuckles, pulling away and closing the curtain. “Hurry up.” She steps over to the sink and removes her earrings, reaching for lotion on the open shelf.

Leaving the door open, she angles it so she can see him in the mirror from her vantage point as she readies herself. Gently, she removes her shoes and clothes. Standing in front of her dresser, she spritzes a bit of cologne on her wrists, reaching around and spraying her lower back. Feeling sticky from the Georgia heat, she towels off. Opening the drawer, Emery grabs underwear and quickly pulls them on before reaching for her newest tshirt, sliding the cool, fresh fabric over her skin. Tugging at the neck, it feels a little tight, but online shops aren’t always the best quality, she shrugs.

The water turns off and the metal rings of the shower curtain jingle as they slide back. Emery drops to her knees at the foot of the bed, waiting for him. Hands in her lap, she tries to twist her wedding band, but her fingers feel swollen. She tries to remember what she’d eaten earlier in the day that was so salty. In the mirror, she watches Chris dry off, running the towel around his thick thigh, resting his foot on the edge of the tub. He passes the towel roughly down his legs, drying his feet before switching positions and drying the other leg. “Privacy please,” he jokes, stepping over and closing the door.

She shakes her head. “Whatever,” she says, rolling her eyes. She laughs a moment later, when he exits the room, towel wrapped around his waist, reminding her of one of his movie roles.

“Oh, hello. Didn’t know you were gonna be all ready.” He waves at her waiting position. “I thought it was just a quick hand job before dinner.”

Laughter bursts forth and she rocks back. “I’m a little hungry for something else.” She taps the edge of the bed. “Have a seat, I won’t be long.”

He cocks his eyebrow and walks over to sit, his knee brushing her shoulder. “Quick and bossy. NOT my favorite combination.”

They both share a laugh as her hands run up his legs, caressing along his inner thighs and under the towel. Emery digs her fingers into his skin, kneading and pulling at the warm flesh. His head drops forward and he places his hands on her shoulders, massaging her tight muscles. She moans, leaning forward and kissing the soft spot on the side of his knee. He drags one hand around the side of her neck to the front, giving a tender squeeze, while the other ghosts up the back of her neck, reaching up and pinching the hair clip, leaving her bright red hair to fall down around her shoulders. A scent of apples wafts across her nose, still using her drug store shampoo after all this time.

Her hands push higher, her thumbs reaching under his balls, fingers scraping over the tops of his thighs. Sliding her hands up, she pushes away the towel, running her hands over his adonis belt, not so defined with age, but still visible and sexy as hell. She scoots closer, crawling between his legs. Leaning forward, she sucks his head between her lips.

“Fuck, you’re not playing,” he whispers.

“Mmm-mm,” she hums, sinking her nails into his flesh, swallowing more of him. Pulling back she murmurs. “I need you to come quickly, baby.”

She dives back onto his cock, sucking and pulling with her mouth, sliding off and on, feeling his tension. Breathing deeply, ready to open her throat, the smell of gasoline and sweat fills her nose. “You still smell like a car.”

“You’re crazy, woman. I cleaned the undercarriage,” he chuckles, yelping when she pulls his leg hairs as she sucks him back into her mouth, nostrils flared and trying not to breath. “Honey, we can stop if it’s bothering you.”

She shakes her head, dragging him in deeper, feeling him in the back of her throat. His powerful scent is stronger than the nauseating car smell, and her desire grows. Wrapping her tiny hand around his shaft, she can control his thrusts, loving the sound of his raspy breaths.

She’s surprised when he pulls out, pushing her back to the floor. Predatorily he climbs over her, nipping at her hip, nuzzling his nose along the hem of her shirt. He pulls back and reads the shirt, before laughter wracks his body, pushing against her.

“You are perfect. That shirt wins. You don’t need to buy anymore.” He tugs at it, lifting it away from her soft body. “But unless you want me to paint it, you need to take it off.”

Emery arches up as he pulls it over her head, freeing her ample breasts. He latches his mouth widely over one nipple, lowering her back to the ground, sucking and pulling at the round globe. She gasps, kicking up her leg and hitting him in the ass. Not paying attention, he moves his mouth, repeating the same on the other side. Hurting like hell, she tugs on his hair, lifting his head. “That hurts, honey, stop.”

Shocked, he flicks out his tongue and gently lathes over the swollen peak. “Sorry, babe, but you’ve got some wicked PMS this month. Smells, achy boobs, mood swings from hell…” Caressing down her body, he licks around her belly button and places a chaste kiss over her covered mound. “Let’s go to the drive in and get ice cream tonight, maybe sit on the beach?”

Taking her hands, he helps her back up into a sitting position, sitting back on the edge of the bed. “We don’t have to- Ok, well then,” he guffaws when her mouth wraps over the head of his cock pulling him in. “Ok. Finish me. I’m just a pawn in your game.” Chris drags in his breath. “Shit, it’s like your sucking chrome off a muffler, damn, Kitten.”

Emery doesn’t have any clue what that means, but she feels in her zone. His hands are in her hair, and she has a rhythm going. She just wants him to come, and quickly, satisfying him. She wants him to splash over her and collapse on top, feeling his weight cover her. A few more strokes is all it will take. The muscles in his legs tighten and his breaths become strained. His hands stop moving as he holds her head in place, lifting off the bed to fuck her mouth. Raising her hand up to cup his balls, he pulls out and shoots over her chest as she falls back to the floor. He follows her and continues to spurt over her, landing on her cheek and near her ear. Finished, he falls next to her, mewling like a kitten, pulling her close as she wraps her arms and legs around him.

They lay silent, for long minutes until the peace is broken by a paw scratching the door. Chris lifts his head and smiles. “You are first class, babe.” He raises his eyebrow. “I don’t think you’ve ever sucked me like that before, that much vigor. It was like… like you would die without it. That. That goes in the record books.”

She laughs, pushing his dead weight off her. “You say that every time… Clean me up. I gotta go check the roast.”

“No. I just wanna lay here and die now. Sleep till tomorrow.”

“Then we can’t get ice cream. I’m really craving a root beer float.”

“Dammit, you drive a hard bargain,” he says, reaching over for the towel to clean her up. “Wanna wrap up the roast and eat later? Head out to the beach and get ice cream first?”

Click here for the next Emery&Chris story, Two Lines

Read more about Emery and Chris in their novella, Georgia on My Mind, and their story collections

Copyright © 2018  avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

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Educating Thalia

Chapter 15

Collaboration by @avenger-nerd-mom & @devikafernando

AU FICTION

A collaboration involving Professor Hiddleston and Professor Evans- The two are rivals at a posh New England university and have no idea they both have taken interest in the lovely Thalia Bareo. She’s a grad student with interests in language and history; a sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago.  Story updates are posted on Wednesdays and Sundays.

Word count: 3884

Warnings:  Language, Adult Situations, fluffy smut, foreplay, nipple play, hand job

Summary:  Sober now, Chris isn’t really sure if accepting Thalia’s kind offer was a good idea.

Click here to the introduction of Educating Thalia

The two talk long past midnight.  The comfort and ease feels like old friends.  They discuss a shared interest in history and he asks her thoughts on some of the books he sees sitting around the room.  Leaning against the arm of the couch he puts his feet up next to her.  If he tipped his foot just so, he could brush against her thigh, but he tries not to invade her space.  Although it was difficult not to want to, with her patting his leg occasionally for emphasis in her storytelling.   He bites back a groan when she rests one leg up on the coffee table in front of them. Her robe falls open, exposing her chunky, delicious looking inner thigh and his eyes dart to the V between her legs, covered by her short plaid bottoms.   Oh, hell.  It’s more than a man can take.  He excuses himself to use the restroom, to get away and try to clear his mind.

No such luck.  The tiny space smells like her, the fresh scent from her shower and her lotions and creams on the ledge above the sink.   Resisting the urge to check in her medicine cabinet, he removes his glasses, laying them on the counter and rubbing his hands over his face.  Chris can’t figure out if she really is just being nice or if like the guy at the bar said, she’s flirting with him and interested.  Washing up, he begins to speak to himself, hidden under the sound of the running water. “What the fuck are ya doin’, man?  She’s a student.”  He sighs and adjusts the fit of his pants thanks to the ebbing hard on building off and on all evening in her presence.  “A hot one.  That invited you to her home.  Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Chris, ya shoulda gone to the crappy coffee place.”

Grabbing his glasses, he returns to the living room, watching from the doorway for a moment as she brushes the tangles out of her hair, rubbing the ends with a towel.  He longs to run his fingers through it…  To grab it in his hand and twist it in his fingers as he… Clearing his throat he stops his thoughts and he returns to his spot on the couch, this time keeping his feet closer to himself.

Instead of returning to their conversation, she barely hides a yawn. “Well Chris,” she says sleepily, rising from her spot, “I wasn’t kidding when I said I had studying to do tomorrow.  I need to get some sleep so I can function.”  Walking behind the couch, she makes the few steps to the kitchen table and sets her empty coffee mug there.  “Sunday’s my only true day off.”

Stopping behind the couch, she rests her hand near his.  Her voice drops, “Let me get you some pillows and blankets and-”

He places his hand on hers and can feel a slight tremble.  His tone matches hers, a shared intimacy of their voices.  “You know I’m not really drunk… Why did you invite me here?”  Chris asks quietly.

She looks down over the back of the couch at him, her lashes long against her cheeks as she blinks.  She licks her lips and he watches her swallow before licking them again quickly.  “I don’t really know.” She chuckles nervously.  “Maybe just to see if you’d say ‘yes,’” Thalia admits, a vulnerability in her eyes.

Tenderly he lets go of her hand and rises from the couch, walking around behind it to stand in front of her.  Her head low, he lifts her chin, holding it with his thumb under her pouty lip,  bringing her eyes up to meet his.  “You didn’t think I’d say ‘yes?’”

“Most guys don’t look at me the way you did in the bar.”  She pulls back from his hold.

He swallows his own thoughts when he sees she needs to be wanted, to be worshipped.  “And how is that?  How did I look at you?”

“Like you didn’t care that I carry some extra weight,” she sighs and sucks in her lip quickly before speaking again.  “Like you… like you wouldn’t mind feeling it on top of you…”

Fuck. Orchids. Wet curly hair.  Pajamas.  A slight blush at her confessing her innermost thought… He’s hard again at just the thought of her and what she’s saying and not saying to him.  Her heart is racing; he can see her blood pumping through the veins in her neck, the robe loosely falling down her shoulder.  Not speaking, he steps to her and grasps the tie on her robe.  Locking his blue eyes on hers, he smiles devilishly and gives it a tug, the robe falling open and revealing her plump frame, still fresh and pink from the hot shower.  He places his hands on her waist and pulls her to him.

Damn, she’s gorgeous.

His eyes fall to her mouth as her lips open in a sweet “oh” of surprise at his manhandling.  He lowers his head, whispering across her skin, “Do you want me to look at you that way again?”  Chris gently places a kiss on her collarbone, nudging the lace trim strap of her tank top with his nose.

She grabs at the back of his head with one hand, holding him to her.  Thalia drops her head back and sighs, “Yes.”

His lips slide up her neck and his nose grazes her skin, delivering feathery touches to light her skin on fire and with her other hand she grabs his on her hip and holds it tight.  “Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” he whispers against the soft spot under her ear, kissing tenderly with his lips slightly open and searing her with a quick flick of his tongue.  He can feel her pulse racing and her shallow breaths echo in his ear.

“No,” quietly escapes her lips.

Chris grasps their hands resting on her hip in a tender squeeze and asks, “Do you want me to come to bed with you?”  He expertly pulls her earlobe between his teeth and sucks gently, his mouth pulling back into a smile when her knees buckle and she falls against him.

She squeezes his hand back and shyly replies in a barely breathed out sound, “Yes.”

“Thalia?”  She hums at the sound of her name.  “You’re still very young; You’re not giving anything to me?”  he asks patiently, voicing his concern.

Giggling quietly she turns her head to expose more of her neck to his devouring lips and with a soft voice addresses his thoughts.  “Oh, no, that was taken a long time ago.  And I’m not that young.”  She relaxes against him, allowing him to hold her up.  Her voice a bit stronger, she continues, “But I have a feeling you could have other firsts for me?”

Weakened himself by her thoughts, he nips at her flesh. Chris longs to brand her, to see his teeth marks, his handprints on her tanned velvet skin.  He feels a desire to possess her, to make her succumb to him.  But he also likes her fiery personality and wants nothing more than for her to power over him.

Taking her hand in his, he nods to the closed door and she shakes her head.  Pushing ahead he opens the door and waits for her to pass by him.  Moving across the room, he quietly orders, “Stop,” before she reaches the bed.  Moving behind her, he sweeps her hair into his hand, admiring it’s glossy sheen and the curls most women would kill for, seeing again the image he had moments before of him pulling her hair during a more sensual act.  He lifts it to his nose, inhaling the flowery scent.  “No smoke now,” he teases lightly in her ear, delighting in the chill that runs down her spine.  Still damp, he pulls it together and begins to make a loose plait, his hands brushing across her shoulders and back as he works.

“Mmm…  That’s nice,” she murmurs with her husky voice.

Her voice hits him below the belt, stirring him to rise again.  He tugs on his jeans, wiping off the precum he feels spilling over.  Coughing, he asks quietly, “Elastic?” and she removes it from her wrist and holds it over her shoulder.  He takes it from her outstretched hand and holds it in place as he gently kisses her palm.  When he lets her hand go, she runs it down the side of her neck and movement catches his eye.  In the dark room, only the small glow of a bedside lamp, he can see her in a mirror across the room. Her hand runs over her large breast and her nipples harden under the tank top, unencumbered by a bra, before she wraps her arm around her waist.

Jesus fuckin’ Christ.  She’s been sitting on the couch like that over an hour?

She awkwardly shifts her weight from one foot to the next as he quickly ties off the end of the braid.  Dropping it down her back, it reaches to her waist and he gives it a tug as he admires his handiwork.  Quiet sounds of her breathing and cars passing in the street below fill the room.  Placing his hands on her back, he runs his hands up her sides, feeling over her curves and across the tops of her shoulders to the collar of her robe.  Grabbing the neckline, he pulls it back off her shoulders and lets it fall to the floor between them.  Her shoulders rise as she takes a deep breath, and he runs his hands slowly down her skin in the same fluid motion as before.  She makes no sound but her skin warms under his touch.  Kicking the robe out of the way, he steps to her, flush against her body, his threadbare jeans doing little to hide the hardness of his cock she has caused. Similar in height, his evident arousal brushes across her ass and she involuntarily pushes back against him.  His arms join hers around her waist, slowly rising up under her tank to grasp the tender flesh of her full breasts-

Music blares through the room from her phone. His hands drop when she steps forward, bending over the end of the bed to reach it.  “Fuck,” he declares, her ass in the air, and her tits falling free in the reflection of the mirror.

She pulls her tank top up, covering herself up self-consciously.  She turns her body, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him with a smile, shaking her head.  Rolling her eyes at his stare, she nervously glances at the screen.   Her expression lifts as she answers the phone.  “Yes, Jim, I’m good.  Yes, I know his car is still parked out there.  He’s here…  Asleep in my room…  When I’m done studying I’ll sleep on the couch…  Jim, I’m not your daughter…  Yes, I know…”

Chris groans when she adjusts her tank, and rises up to tug down on the legs of the shorts, riding up into her personal sweet space.   “I’m in the living room studying…  Dude was drunk and it’s 20 degrees out.  Roads will be slick.  I told him to stay…. Yes.  I know.  I know.  Thanks for always having my back…  Yea, ya big goof, I love you too.”

Pressing ‘close’ on her phone, she tosses the phone into the pillows. Giggling, she blushes and sighs.  “Kinda broke the mood didn’t it?”

Looking down at her, sitting on the bed, the true co-ed she is, Chris stalks forward, pulling his tight blue sweater and t-shirt off in one swift motion and tossing it on the floor.  Biting his lip, he places his knee on the bed next to her and places his large hand on her chest, spanning across her collarbone.  “Heart’s still racing, sweetheart.  And you got some of your spirit back.  I don’t think the breathy ingenue is really you; but fuck it was a turn on.”

Looking up at him with her dark eyes of melted chocolate, she starts, “Chris, I-”

“No, honey.  The problem isn’t you.  You said “guys” don’t look at you… It’s the boys you date.  You need someone older to appreciate you; to take care of you.”  With his other hand, he unbuckles his belt and watches as her eyes scan across his chest, taking in his tats from shoulder to shoulder.  With a cocky grin he tells her, “They’re all spelled right, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He slides the leather belt from the loops and brushes it across her thighs, feeling her shiver at his hold on her.  Her grin quickly changes to desire and the light gleaming in her eyes advances from playful to aroused.  “A woman like you needs a man.  A man can fuck you till morning; make you come three times before sunrise and leave you begging for more.”

With the force of his hand, he pushes her back on the bed with a slight bounce. She raises one of her perfectly arched eyebrows at him, and teases.  “Three times, huh?  A little cocky, aren’t you?”

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s not little,” Chris promises as he falls on top of her, gently applying his weight and pushing her into the bed as he attacks her neck.   He brushes his scruff against her tender skin, knowing the effect it will have on her.  Thalia giggles while bringing her arms under his.  Her hands stretch over his shoulder blades, feeling their strength and power.  He returns to nibbling at her neck as he had done in the living room, the desire to taste her overwhelming.  Tenderly he grasps her skin between his teeth and bites as tiny sweet sounds escape between her lips. Tilting her head back she gives him more access to her delicate flesh and begins to wiggle beneath him.  He shifts, allowing his aching cock to fit between her legs and he grinds against her.

“Oh, fuck,” she breathes out sinfully, scraping her nails across his back, digging slightly.

Moaning against her neck, he drags his beard against her again, leaving beard burn and marking her.  The desire to claim her is strong in his gut, to show to everyone she belongs to someone.  His inner monologue tells himself to shut up.  This is just one drunken night, he thinks.  But he still wants her to feel the ache for days…

He already knows he’s lying to himself – knows he’s sober- when she shifts, lifting her leg and rubbing it over his ass before sliding it down his leg, holding him closer to her.  Going in for another lick along the pulsing vein in her neck, he reaches to slide the strap of her tank top down her shoulder.  More forcefully than intended, the lace snaps and they both pause.  He looks up to her and sees the mirth in her eyes.

“Fuck it; never liked it anyway,” she giggles, toying at his chain, admiring his St. Christopher’s medallion.  “Good Catholic boy… Nice,” she wickedly grins, using it to pull him forward, lifting her head to connect their swollen lips.

“Can’t trust those Catholic girls,” he teases, his kisses drifting along her jawline.  He can’t get enough of the taste of her skin.

Sliding her leg back up his, she presses her heel into the cheek of his ass, rising up to grind against him.  “No, not at all,” she sassily agrees.

“Shut up and kiss me again,” he taunts, caressing his hand across her cheek, sliding across her freckles and winding under her hair.  Her lips collide with his and his large palm stretches from her ear to the back of her skull.  He squeezes lightly as her tongue darts in his slightly opened mouth, teasing and prying for more space.  His groan is swallowed by her kiss, her tongue lightly sliding against his, silently begging for his permission.  He opens his mouth, and returns the motions as their tongues tangle as if greeting one another.  Her breathing is labored and he feels her heat rising between her legs, turned on simply by his touches and kisses.

If this is her reaction to their tame foreplay, he can’t wait to really get her going.  Lifting his body up on both arms, resting his fists on either side of her head, he pushes between her legs again.  Without his weight on her, her body arches to him, her glorious tits raised. He grinds down on her, painfully aware of his own aching cock, wanting to seek solace and relief deep inside her.  She moans quietly and her head rolls back against the bed, her hands clenching the sheets next to her, his eyes drawn to them.

Not truly wanting to power over her, yet, Chris tells her quietly, “Touch me; I wanna feel your hands on me.”

Her warm hands drift to his sides, sliding along the waist of his jeans, dipping cautiously below the waistband.  Goosebumps form on his skin, desiring more touches from her.  The feathery caress teases him and he presses closer to her again as her hands reach lower, squeezing his ass.  She bites her lip, inhaling deeply at the discovery he’s commando.

“Damn, Thalia, you’re driving me crazy.”

Shaking her head in disbelief, he can see her denying his words.  “You’re beautiful, desirable,” he tells her.  “Sexy as hell, woman, and if no one has told you that before, they didn’t look close enough.”

Pulling her hands back, she runs them over his back, as if she’s afraid to play with the actual fire.  “Chris, this is just play.  A fun night; I get it.  You don’t have to say-”

“I always tell the truth; especially to a beautiful woman,” he rolls himself to her side, lowering his mouth to breath against her skin. “Maybe we won’t leave this bed till you believe it,” he whispers with a growl as he pushes down her tank top, exposing her swollen peak to him.  Her dark brown nipple is so tantalizing; he washes over it gently with his tongue and she whimpers aloud, not even holding back the aching need caught in the back of her throat.  Chuckling, he licks slowly again.  “Like that, do you?  Tell me, give me your sounds; don’t hold back,” he shares.

“Then do it again,” she replies, sliding one hand up to hold the back of his head against her breast.

Happily complying with her wish, he is treated when she rolls on her side to face him and the tank top pulls down, revealing the second delicious button.  He lavishes it with the same attention, but her quiet mewls encourage him to add pressure and he gropes with one hand while his tongue plays over her.

“Uhh…” she moans, throwing her leg over his hip and rolling him to her.  Snaking her hands between them she runs her hands over his washboard abs, teasing along his Adonis belt.  His breathing heightens and his need for her builds when she tangles her fingers in the trail of trimmed hairs leading her to the prize.  Her tentative touches are light and unsure so he’s surprised when she pops the button of his jeans and reaches inside.

Her soft hands brush over his broad tip, wiping at the precum he expels in response to her sexiness.  Sliding her hands lower she grabs him with both hands, not even reaching from tip to base. “Shit, not little is right, baby.”

Raising his head from her beautiful exposed breasts, his eyes meet hers, a mix of fear and desire.  “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re ready for me.”  Given the heat and wetness he feels pushing against his denim clad thigh as she slowly rocks against him, he’s not too worried. About that, anyway.  “Thalia?  This was the the furthest thing from my mind when I left my place tonight; I’m not really prepared.  Do you have anything?”

“Seducing grad students wasn’t on the agenda, Professor?” She tightens her hold and tugs, pulling a groan from deep within his chest.

“Ah, fuck,” he chuckles, growing stiffer from her handling.  “Nah, I’m the only one that’s tugged that in a while, sweetheart.”

Biting her lip, she inhales.  “I’m covered, and I have stuff in the basket under the bed.  No worries,” she informs him.

“A fun basket?” His eyes delight in the thought of truly playing with her.  There he goes again, thinking in the future.  “Can’t wait to see what you’ve got.”

She giggles.  “How about the real thing tonight?  I can’t wait to see what you’ve got.”  Sucking in her breath, she whispers out, “It feels amazing in my hands.  So big…” Running her fingers across the veiny weave of his cock, she adds.  “So thick…”

He wants to respond to her but she instinctively licks her lips and his mouth falls to hers, pulled like a magnet.  Flicking his tongue across her raw flesh where he’s scratched her with his beard, his tongue teases hers again, running along the tops of her teeth and pulling out slowly.  She sighs and seems to melt beside him as she rolls to her back, flopping her arm to her side, the other still rhythmically pulling on him.

Dropping his eyes, he watches her hand, hidden still in his jeans and he lifts his hips to slide them down under the curve of his ass allowing more freedom for her movements.  Fully exposed, her hand reminds him of the way he watched her pull on the tap at the bar just hours before.  Was it only hours ago?  Her hands move methodically, and he realizes he’ll spill his seed if she doesn’t stop.  “Thalia, you need to-”

“You promised me three times before sun up, Mister.  This will help you last longer.”

Rising to her knees beside him he sees her eyes pleading with him as she continues to pull and twist his sensitive skin, reaching down to caress his balls with her other hand.  Kneeling there, she strikes an imposing figure, curves and beauty, all focused on him.  Damn, how did she flip it on him?  But she makes a point…  Raising up on his elbows to watch her work, he replies with a groan, “Have at it; it’s all yours.”  He grins, waving his hand as if he’s gifting himself to her.

Tentatively at first, her confidence builds and she pulls him to a crest, a tightening building in his thighs, whispering “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”  He thrusts into her hands and spurts his cum over his chest, dribbling on her fingers and some rolling down his side onto the bed covers.  Her smile can’t hide her satisfaction and she takes it all in stride, pulling the ripped tank top over her head to clean the mess.  He’s surprised and so turned on when she casually licks the drips from her fingers.  “Damn, that’s really sexy,” he hisses, sitting up and placing his hand on the back of her neck, drawing her to him in a passionate kiss, his hormones surging as his body still quakes.  “Hell, I really needed that,” he chuckles.

Giggling, she shakes her head and replies, “Glad I could help.”

Click here for Chapter 16 Three

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

Christmas Adventures: Naughty or Nice?

*a Chris Evans fan fic*

By avenger-nerd-mom

Actor Chris Evans spreads holiday cheer

Warnings: NSFW, language, fingering, oral sex, penetration

This is written as a “choose your own adventure” type story.  The opening to the story is the same for both pieces, but when I reached one point in the story, I saw two possible endings.  And since I couldn’t decide which to use, I wrote both.

Opening Word count: 1859

“Hey pretty girl, wanna sit on Santa’s lap?”

The voice calls out over the din of the room.  The hospital Christmas party.  The little boy balanced on her hip has finally stopped crying, so she sets him down, balancing him on his feet before he toddles away, gripping his candy cane.  Her hands are sticky. Her feet are tired.  She doesn’t want to seem like a grinch, but the days before Christmas in a child’s sick ward are difficult days.  She does not need this crap.  She looks at her watch, seeing she’s well over her step count for the day, and realizing it’s only about twenty minutes before she can clock out.

“Are you on the naughty or nice list?” his voice calls out to her again.

Damn. Where did they hire this creep from?  Another child walks past him, smiling and thanking ‘Santa’ again for her new doll.  The nurse steps closer, but staying out of Santa’s grasp.  “Listen, here fat boy. I’m not interested. And if you-”

She shuts her mouth when she sees the head nurse giving her the evil eye.  “God, I hope you’ve just been creepy to the nurses and not the kids.”

In his incredibly ‘realistic’ costume, his belly laughs.  “I promise, I’m not a sick bastard.  I just have a thing for pretty nurses with dark hair.”

She rolls her eyes, moving to break up a fight between two little boys over a set of Legos.  Santa reaches in the big sack of toys and pulls out a matching set and offers it up to the older boy.  She begins to move away but pauses when the younger boy begins to complain that means the older boy got two presents from Santa.

She watches as Santa kneels down next to the boys and the littlest one, about five rests on his extended knee, pouting.  “Jonathan,” Santa says in a low authoritative voice.  How does he know his name? She wonders.  “Brandon has an older brother that always comes to visit.  What if we let Nurse Janelle keep the basketball here, so when Brandon’s brother visits, you can all play basketball together?”

The little boy chews on his lip for a minute, looking at Santa, Brandon and the dark haired nurse.  “You mean like a present for all of us?” he asks Santa.

Santa ruffles the top of his hair, careful not to bump the IV pole attached to the tubes in the boy’s arm. “For everybody,” he nods.

The little boy wraps his arms around Santa’s neck for a quick hug and calls ‘thank you’ as he runs off to get a cookie.  The older boy hands the ball to Santa, who hands it to the Nurse.

Taking the brightly colored ball, she tucks it under her arm.  “How did you know their names? About Brandon’s brother?”

Adjusting his fake beard, he laughs again.  She tries to ignore the pleasant tone and steps back when he reaches to her.  He drops his arm, defeated he can’t charm her.  “I’m Santa.  It’s my job to know the names of all the kids.  The ones here at the hospital are especially important to me.  And I try to know all their names and wishes…. Just like the nurses.  Nurse Janelle.  And you’re wishing for a Disney trip?”

Who the fuck is this guy?  “My scrubs are covered in Mickey.  That’s not hard to deduce, fat boy,” she pokes him in his foam padded belly, catching sight of her watch again.  She just wants to go home. Take a hot shower. Order pizza. Have a beer.  Be alone for the next three days.  He grabs her jacket sleeve, turning her wrist to see Mickey on the watchband as well.

“Call it a lucky guess?  So what are you doing after work.  I’m guessing you’re off now? You’ve been watching the clock for the last hour.  If you’re not bus-”

“Nurse Janelle! Nurse Janelle!”  Santa steps back when an adorable little blonde runs between them, tugging on the nurse’s jacket.  “It’s time; you’re leaving?”

Janelle squats down to the child’s level.  “Yea, sweetie, but I’ll be back.  You know that.”  While she talks to the girl, she holds her tiny hand, discreetly checking the child’s pulse to make one last note for the day.  “I’ll be back on Saturday, and you can tell me all about your Christmas, ok honey?”

The little girl looks over her shoulder at Santa, smiling.  She steps closer to Janelle and whispers in her ear.  “I asked him for a pony. But it can’t come inside the hospital.  How do you think he’ll do it?”

Janelle giggles at the wisp of breath the little girl creates against her neck.   Moving back, she looks in the innocent bright blue eyes.  The eyes.  Something jumps in her mind.  She shakes her head as though she knows it can’t be right.  Knowing the child’s parents have made plans to take her out of the hospital for a sleigh ride on Christmas Day, she firmly replies, “Santa always works magic.  I’m sure he’s already figured it out.”

She hugs her sweetly before rising tall.  Tugging her scrubs in place, she turns to go quickly before any more of the kids catch her.  “Sure I can’t change your mind?” Santa asks.

Sighing, she huffs, “I’m sure.  Thanks, but no thanks, Santa.”

Making her quick get away,she shuffles down the hall quietly, keeping her head low, just waiting to get to the workroom to clock out, hoping there are still some cookies left that haven’t been touched by children.  She loves her job, but off duty, she does not want kid germs on her food, especially during the cold winter months.  If she’s sick, she could be off the job for days, just to keep the patients from becoming more sick.

The workroom itself is festive with the group getting ready to go on shift, and those getting ready to leave for the night.  Washing up quickly, she takes the cookie and hot chocolate her friend Chani offers her.  Nibbling on the wonderful sweet she moves to the counter to clock out before plopping down on the couch, joining her friend for a quick rest before heading out into the cold night.

“Janelle, girl, come with us.  Honey, you can’t sit at home and mope for the next few days,” Chani prods.  “I’ve got a slinky black dress perfect for you! Hit the town with us.”

“Slinky black dress? I’m all for that.”  His unmistakeable voice fills the space.

Looking up, Janelle can’t believe it.  Santa was played by none other than Chris fuckin’  Evans.  “Sweet Jesus,” she mumbles under her breath as he leans forward to give Chani a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey, good-lookin’!  I’ve missed you!  I’m so glad you got to come play Santa,” Chani laughs, letting her hand rest against his chest a moment longer than necessary.  “I see you’ve been staying away from the Christmas cookies this year, ‘Santa.’”

“Gotta stay in shape, ya know.  It’s a tough job, but somebody’s gotta do it,” he laughs.  Eyeing the table of sweets, he reaches for the smallest cookie he can find, the sugar cookie kind with a chocolate kiss pushed in the center, and pops it in his mouth before sitting on the coffee table, trapping Janelle’s knees between his legs. He taps her knee purposely with his.

“I’m sure you’d look charming in an LBD, because I’m not wearing it.  You two know each other?” Janelle asks indifferently, taking a plate of goodies one of the other nurses hands to her.  She nibbles on a white chocolate covered pretzel totally ignoring the good looking actor sitting in front of her.

“This handsome fella came by the clinic I used to work at in Chicago once and we’ve been friends ever since.  He was the first person I knew when I came to Boston,” Chani explains, stealing a cookie from Janelle’s plate.  “HE’S the guy I’ve been trying to set you up with for months.  I think you two are perfect for each other.”

“I am NOT the same animal as him,” Janelle replies quickly, almost feeling bad about it when she sees him wince at the comment.

Recovering quickly, Chris rubs his hand over Chani’s knee.  “Aw, honey, thanks.  But I get the feeling she doesn’t want to be set up, even with a great guy like me.  Don’t believe everything you read,” he teases as he winks at Janelle.  “Come go with us; it’ll be fun. I’ll get changed out of this Santa suit-”

Looking him squarely in the eye, Janelle interrupts.  “Take away the suit and you’re still just a millionaire, playboy, philanthropist… I’m. Not. Interested.”

Chris clutches at his heart, pretending to be hurt.  “Oh, that’s a good one, sweetheart, like I’ve never heard that before.”  She can see in his eyes her dig cut just a little bit.

Chani shakes her head, stage whispering, “Girl! What is wrong with you? Chris Evans is asking you to go out with us!  Come on; you have no need to rush home.”

“I don’t know Chani, maybe she has cats to take care of,” Chris dismisses her as he gets up and shakes his arms out of the heavy Santa jacket.  Like the abs in his too-tight tshirt are going to change my mind…

“Oh, that’s original.  No wedding ring, early thirties, so you automatically assume I have cats.  Nice.” He shrugs his shoulders.  “I have a boyfriend; Chani you know I have a boyfriend.”

“That douchebag?” Chani rolls her eyes, setting her plate on the coffee table, waving goodbye to a few of the nurses leaving for the night.  She signals to the girls she plans to meet with later.  “If he’s so great, why have I never met him?”

Janelle hits her head against the back of the couch, accidentally thumping it against the wall.  She screws up her face and rubs at the tender spot.  “I can’t help he lives outta town and it’s easier for me to go visit him.”  She glances to Chris.  “But if you wanna have this discussion again about how unsuitable you think he is as a suitor for me, can we do it in private? After Christmas?”

Sheepishly nodding her head, Chani apologizes.  “Sorry.  That was rude.  I’m sure if you like him, he’s not a total douche.  But leaving you alone at Christmas totally sucks and I really wi-”

Janelle stands up, bumping into Chris, nearly tripping over his feet and he places a hand on her waist to keep her from falling.  She jerks away quickly from his touch.  “Chani.  Enough.  Babes, I love ya.  But I am going home.  To call my boyfriend,” she says pointedly to her friend.  “And to feed my cat,” she addresses to Chris.  “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Stalking to her locker, she quickly grabs her coat and gloves, murmuring her goodbyes and good wishes of a holiday season to her coworkers.  She glares back at Chris before she leaves the room, resisting the urge to flip him off.

Click here for “Naughty” ending, NSFW, 2784

Click here for “Nice” ending, Fluffy NSFW, 3365

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

Christmas Adventures: Nice

Click here for the Opening of the story

An hour and a half later, tired and exhausted from work, she trudges up the stairs with the bags of groceries to her tiny apartment, admiring the wreath on her door.  She pauses momentarily before inserting the key into the lock, smiling to herself.  Entering directly into the living room, she can hear the sounds from the kitchen.  The wonderful smell fills her nose and walking past the beautifully set table she grabs a sugar cookie with a chocolate kiss in the center and pops it into her mouth.

Leaning against the door frame she watches her man at the stove.  He fluidly moves, shifting his weight from side to side as he reaches to the shelf of spices, adding something to the steaming pot.  He hums along quietly to the Christmas music on the radio and she sees the muscles tense in his back when he realizes she’s there.  He relaxes, resting the spoon on the edge of the pan; the smell of the bubbling sauce makes her stomach growl.  Wiping his hands on the Christmas towel, he turns to her with a smile.

“So, do all your friends think I’m a douche?”  Chris laughs as she steps into his open arms.

She shakes her head, laughing at him.  “No, not all of them.  Nancy thinks you’re a dick, hiding a secret family in New Jersey or something.”

“Oh, that’s great. Just great.”  He kisses the tip of her rosy red nose, cold from the winter night.  “We agree to keep things private, because you don’t want to be in the press, and I’m totally fine with that, but now all your friends think your boyfriend is an ass, and they probably secretly talk about you behind your back, wondering if it’s time to stage an intervention.”

“Well, they might want to after today’s performance when they find out you’re my secret boyfriend!  That didn’t help your cause any… What was that about?”

Chuckling, grabbing her ass, he says, “What?  You didn’t like my naughty Santa?”

“You were such an ass…,” she giggles when he jumps at her cold hands tucked inside his shirt collar.

“I couldn’t help it.  Once you walked into the kids’ game room, I wanted to get your attention.  I really thought you knew it was me, but you were so focused on the kids…  It was amazing to see you work, babe.  And then I figured you didn’t want Chani to know we knew each other so I kept up the act, you just followed my lead.”  He shrugs his shoulders.

“Like always.” Laughing, Janelle runs her hands over his jaw, scratching at his beard.  “I really had no idea it was you; I couldn’t figure out how Santa knew the kids’ names?  Cuz I talk about them all the time, right?” She smiles, when he nods his head.  “I felt like such an idiot when you came in the work room.  I don’t expect to see my superhero boyfriend at my place of work, but I’m so glad that-”

Chris places his hands on her face, delicately holding her while he tries to quiet her chatter.  He leans in for a kiss, slow and gentle at first, caressing her lips, reuniting his mouth to hers.  “Stop talking,” he whispers in puffs of air against her mouth, charging in with more kisses, each one with more urgency than the one before beginning to warm her up.

She can taste the chocolate on his lips.  “How many of those cookies did you eat?” she giggles, tugging at his bottom lip with her teeth as they kiss.

“They’re my favorite.  I think I’ve had about five.  We’ve got to get rid of them,” he chuckles.

“I’m sure your kids in New Jersey will like them,” she teases poking him in the ribs. His laughter fills the room.

As her hands run down his tight chest to the waist of his pants, settling on his hips, his hands unbutton the front of her heavy wool coat.  Reaching inside he places his warm hands on her breasts, cupping her and giving a needing squeeze.  “You feel so good,” he whispers.  “I missed you too!  I wanted to surprise you at work.”

He slides the coat down her shoulders and it drops to the floor as their mouths continue to comfort each other and get reacquainted. His hands grasp her forearms, lifting her up on her toes. She runs her tongue against his pouty bottom lip and feels him shiver at the contact. His kisses make her ready for more.

“I love the feel of your lips on mine,” he says quietly, his nose brushing against hers, still red and cold from the Boston winter air, pushing her against the counter. Turning the heat down on the stove, he slides the pot off the burner.  Sliding his lips across her jaw, he captures her tiny earlobe between his lips, taking a quick nip.  “You need to warm up.  I’m stuffed on cookies; can we eat later?”

Tilting her head back, Janelle opens her neck up for his sweet caresses, enjoying his affections.  Chris glides his lips along her neck, pulling back on the collar of her shirt.  “Mmm… I love when you smell like the hospital,” he chuckles, biting and kissing at the crook of her neck.  “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Bending to wrap his arms behind her knees, he lifts her over his shoulder and slaps her ass.  She reaches for a piece of the toasted garlic bread on the counter and takes a quick bite.  Walking towards the hallway, he pauses next to the table and blows out the candles.  “No,” Janelle laughs, reading his mind.  “It’s already set nicely; and I could use a shower after work.”

He starts moving down the hall again, turning to enter the bathroom carefully without banging her into the door and sets her gently down on the edge of the tub.  He starts the water for her, turning it up high, just like she likes.  He kisses the top of her head, handing her a towel and rising to exit the room.  She blows him a kiss, and he pauses at the door.  “I could put the Santa suit back on?  It’s in the car.”

Untangling herself from her scrub top, she pulls it over her head and stands before him in her boring work bra.  She drops it to the floor laughing at him.  “Sorry, babe. No Christmas kink here.”

Chris leans his head against the door, smiling at her.  “So you don’t want me to tie you up with the Christmas lights I got?”

He chuckles at the candy cane panties she’s wearing when she stands up straight from removing her work pants.  “‘Santa: I can explain.’”  He reads aloud.  “That’s not kink at all,” he laughs.

Janelle bends over in laughter, grasping her sides.  “Chani got them for me; I think they’re funny.  No I don’t have Christmas kink.  I was kidding all week about the Christmas lights, honey.”

Chris laughs at the somewhat shocked look on her face.  “Hell, I wasn’t.  I went to all the trouble of driving around when I wasn’t working to find the little ones that wouldn’t burn you.”  Watching with a grin, he admires as she removes her clothes for the shower, catching her bra when she tosses it in his face.

Pulling her hair loose from her braid and stepping naked into the shower, she laughs, “You’re a sick weirdo sometimes, you know that?”

A gut busting laugh echoes through the room.  “But I’m yours and you love it. Lights?”

“Lights,” she agrees as she pulls the curtain closed, her laughter echoing against the tiles as he closes the door to the room.

#

Hours later, Chris wipes the spaghetti sauce from her chin, playfully teasing her about her ravenous hungers.  “You really should eat more than lettuce and wraps and fast food when I’m gone, baby girl.  You gotta keep your energy up for when I’m home.”  Winking at her the implied energy he’s talking about, he uses the garlic bread to wipe up the last drops of sauce on his plate and savors the rich flavor as he chews slowly.  “Carbs.  Damn I miss carbs,” he chuckles.

Admiring his washboard abs, she laughs, “Oh, honey but you look so fucking good when you stay away from them.  It’s not fair.  I eat right.  I work out all the time.  You give up carbs for three weeks and look like a god.  Besides, you’re a better cook than I.  Why should I bother?  I’ll just freeze the leftovers and I’ll have food for awhile when you’re gone.  I’ll miss you, but some of your Italian lovin’ will still be right here with me.”

She giggles when he tosses his napkin at her playfully, and points to her plate.  She nods that she’s finished and he leans over, setting the two plates on the floor beside the bed.  “Don’t you think you need to learn to cook?” he asks quietly rising up on his knees and crawling to her.  “Who’s gonna cook for our kids when I’m away working?”

“Kids? Christopher, don’t you think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself?  There are no kids till there is a wedding, there is no wedding till there is a ring and you know we said-”

His lips reach hers in time to shut her up.  “You talk too much, sassy girl,” he chuckles quietly, wrapping his hands in her hair, tilting her laughing face to his.  “What do I need to do to shut you up?”

“Impossible,” she laughs as she raises up on her knees as well, their kisses crashing against one another.  She tugs on the back of his hair, starting to grow back out, glad it will be longer by the time they take their Disney cruise at the end of January. That should have been her clue about Santa’s true identity at the hospital, but she was still in work mode at the time and was focused on her job.  “So, uh, where are those lights?  Maybe I should tie you up instead…” she taunts as she pushes him over backwards on the bed, landing solidly on top of him.

His leg rises up, creating a space for her to nestle her legs between his.  Wrapping his leg over the back of hers, he holds her tight to him.  “Oh, really?  That could be fun. Later… Ladies first.” His eyes gleam in the lights of the tree in the corner of their room. Kissing again, he pulls her hair, grabbing her closer to him as his mouth becomes more aggressive.  He begins to rock under her, moving and rolling her, his cock stiffening for round two.  She’s already slippery against him, her unfinished needs waiting to be cared for this time around.

“They’re in the gift bag beside the bed,” he tells her.  Chris rocks her forward just a bit more and she reaches out with her hand to pick up the little red bag covered in snowflakes.

Lifting the bag over the edge of the bed she sits up, moving to straddle him, teasing her waiting cunt against his hard cock.  He raises his head and pulls a pillow to him, bunching it up and resting back, smiling as she traces her finger over one of the glittered snowflakes.  Her hesitancy shows when she bites her lip nervously.  “Baby girl, it’s just some Christmas lights.  We can always try it another time; I don’t wanna do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

Rocking forward again, she grinds herself against him, giggling softly.  “Oh, no, honey, it’s not that… I want to, believe me, I want to… I’m just trying to figure out the best way to do it.”

He laughs, his arms dropping back against the bed as he bucks her up again, his eyes watching closely as she peers into the bag, looking for the end of the strand.  “Where’s the light switch?” She asks pulling at the string of lights.

“In the box; pull carefully and the cord shouldn’t tangle,” he advises, his smile growing.

Continuing to pull the lights out, she rests them delicately on the bed next to his outstretched leg.  She pauses, reaching the box at the bottom of the bag.  Flipping the switch, the lights don’t come on.  Cocking her head at him, she asks, “You didn’t test they work?  And really.  How are you gonna wrap me with these?”

“Of course I tested to see if they work; I’m not an idiot,” he laughs.  “Check the batteries didn’t get knocked loose.”

Opening the box, her jaw slowly drops, her hands beginning to shake.  He takes the battery box from her, grinning at the tears forming in her eyes.  Shaking the sparkling diamond ring from the box into his hand, he sets the box on the bed and pushes himself to a seated position.  Taking her left hand in his, he chokes back his own tears. “I think from this point forward, we do everything together.”

Salty tears of joy roll down her cheeks. “You’re proposing while we’re naked, you ass.” She whispers and laughs, wiping away her tears with her other hand. “It’s so us.”

He leans into her caress as she sweeps the tears from his face as well, chuckling.  Moving to slide the ring onto her slender finger, he continues his declaration of forever.  “You are my light, and cheer me up when I’m at my lowest.”  Chris pushes the ring into place, raising her hand to his lips, tenderly kissing the back of her hand.  “Honey, I wanna be tied to you forever, starting tonight with these Christmas lights.  Whatdya say, baby girl?”

Through tears and laughter, Janelle nods her head, whispering ‘yes’ again and again.

The couple sit together, kissing and caressing with tenderness and love as the heat rebuilds from before.  Chris extracts batteries he’d hidden in his pillow case and the lights quickly glow to life.  Holding her hand in his, he wraps the lights around their wrists, binding them together.

“Hey,” she giggles.  “Did you write that down first, or was it off the top of your head?”

He laughs loudly and raucously, the sound vibrating against her body and jostling her to a different sitting position, his cock right at the entrance to her sweet hole.  With his free hand, he lifts under her ass and moves her towards him, gliding her onto his rod, willing and waiting.  Her wet welcomes him in and she breathes a sigh of relief as she whispers ‘yes’ one more time.  He shifts again, cradling her in his lap and she folds her legs tightly behind him. Taking the string of lights she wraps them around his back, leaning to the Tolle quote tat and lapping it with her tongue as she rocks against him, sliding him deeper into her sweet hole.

“Fuck, I missed this.  I miss us,” he sighs, leaning his head back as he enjoys the attention she gives along his collarbone, a shiver down his spine when she runs her tongue up the pulsing vein, landing to kiss and nibble at his ear.  Commandeering the sparkling white lights, he takes them from her, and laces them across her back, winding them down her arm as well.

“That tickles,” she giggles at the delicate touch of his fingertips, ensuring the bulbs are not too hot against her skin.  Yet his thrusts in and out of her plush inner walls become more forceful, claiming what is his.

He raises his legs, planting his feet firmly on the bed, changing the angle he pistons into her, bouncing her full breasts against his chest. He strings the lights over and around his leg before dropping the pile of glowing white bulbs on the bed next to them.  Grasping her rib cage on either side he forces her back and extracts himself from deep inside. She whines her dislike of the situation but playfully laughs when he propels her onto her back on the oversized bed, landing on top of her since they are loosely tied together by the Christmas lights. “That’s better,” she praises, opening her legs for him.

Resting up on his knees, holding his weight off her, he grips their tied hands above her head. “Can’t escape now,” he growls, his breath hot against her neck as his lips graze over her skin, finally stopping to capture one of her taut peaks between his plump lips.

“Don’t want to,” she replies bucking her mound against his pelvis, needing his sex back inside her. She moans in frustration, the sound low and animalistic in the room.  His mouth wrecks havoc on her nerve endings and quiet whimpers escape from her lips. “Please, Christopher, baby… oh,” she pauses as her breathing heightens, her body reacting beyond her control as he moves from one sweet nipple, sliding his nose down the valley between her breasts and circling his tongue around the other. “Baby, I need you. I need you to fuck me. Please. Don’t make me wait any more.”

He hums against her breast, his tongue flickering against the tight pink bud, ignoring her request. Her free hand clenches his hair and she tries to raise him up as she bucks against him, her dripping wet need escaping between her legs.  She longs to be connected to him, to stretch for him and to let him fill her in every way possible. The light cord dangling at her side catches her attention and she gives it a harsh tug, collapsing him to her with an exhaled “oomph.”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles. “Did you need something?” he gladly asks, taking the cord from her, as she places her leg in the crook of his elbow, smiling when he tangles the strand around her thigh. He tosses the cord to the other side of the bed before driving his pulsing cock into his favorite Christmas present.

His force crushes the air from her body and she struggles to right her breathing. “I need you,” she chants between belaboured breaths.  “God, yes, harder,” she encourages him as he drives her into the bed..

The tangled lights limit the range of movement, but she opens her legs wider, allowing him to sink closer to her.  The wiring around his leg shifts, creating additional friction against her swollen outer lips, an unfamiliar sensation as her crest builds.  With her free hand she pulls the light strand, adding to the tension.

He can feel the change as her walls begin to tighten, each plunge deeper in and she constricts around him as he pulls out, teasing her rim and brushing against her taint with the velvety head of his cock.. She’s yanking the light strand tight enough to dig into his skin. Tilting his head up he locks his dark eyes on her face. Her eyes are closed, her dark lashes against her flushed freckled skin. Her beauty calms and excites him at the same time. A few more intrusions into her luscious center and he senses she is right on the edge of tipping over. “Baby girl, look at me.” Fluttering open, her eyes flash dark. “Beautiful baby girl; all mine. Let go, let go.”

At his command, she squeezes around his shaft, dragging him to the brink. The orgasm rolls through her body and as she comes she cries his name quietly, whispering words of love.  Her body shudders against him and her grip on the light cord loosens.

He continues his rhythm as she mewls and settles, keeping her legs open for him.  Hitting against her inner walls, he tightens, feeling his quake rise up from his toes.  Squeezing her hand tightly that is tied to his he whispers, “I’m yours,” as he spills his love into her.

#

Hours later, the lights lay tangled at their feet, her cat batting at the cord hanging over the edge of the bed.  She asks with true concern in her voice.  “What the hell are we gonna tell people when they ask us our engagement story?”

Click here for the “Naughty” ending to the story

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

Perfect Saturday

Perfect Saturday

A Mrs. Evans Story

By avenger-nerd-mom

While the kids are away for the weekend, a future Chris Evans surprises his wife on a lazy Saturday morning

Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, Fluffy smut, Fingering, Oral Sex, Condom Use. NSFW

Word Count: 1446

You wake when you feel the bed shift, but you don’t comment on his exit.  It’s early in the morning; you know he’s not actually going anywhere but the bathroom.  His late night out with the guys answers that for you.  As the water runs you drift in and out of consciousness, the dogs beginning to stir downstairs.  You don’t want to actually rise from sleep mode since the boys are with their aunt today and you want to enjoy a long lay in.

You are surprised when he returns to the bed and pulls the blanket back from your body. Your eyes fly open and connect with his, already dark with lust as he admires your toned body, clad only in royal blue lace underwear.

“This is nice,” he murmurs, as he races his hands over your thighs, roughly gripping your flesh.

“This is from last night, when you said you’d be home in ‘thirty minutes.’” You grumble; still sore you’d fallen asleep alone when you had been all ready for a night of lovemaking.

“Ah, shit, babe.  Sorry.  I guess I was on man time,” he apologizes, batting his eyelashes at you, like he thinks it’s gonna make it all better.

If he keeps moving his hands like that, he’s probably right.  Lifting your ass off the bed one handed, he pulls your underwear off with other and gently settles you back down, crawling between your legs and resting on his knees.

Your eyes can’t focus and you decide to stay half asleep.  It’s too early to be awake on a Saturday and instead you relax against his touch.  His strong hands run over your thighs again and grace across your hips.  His fingers trace over the scar he caused since one of the beautiful boys he made in you was too big to come out on it’s own.  He leans forward and kisses along the lasting mark, whispering, “Beautiful.”

Continuing his explorations, he sits back up and works his grasp over your ribcage, teasing along the sides of your rounded breasts. A quick peek down and you can see your nipples stand at attention, responding to his caress.  You arch slightly off the bed and he chuckles as his hands continue to move north, collecting your hands and raising them above your head, holding them tightly there.  He lays over you, pressing your body to the bed with his weight on you, the most glorious feeling in the world.  His lips take yours and a flash of color fills your sleepy mind; you smile when the minty fresh taste of his mouth causes red, white and blue to swirl in your brain. His colors. Cap’s colors. The toothpaste colors…  Your lips pull back in a silly smile at the thought, breaking the kiss as he gently moves to kiss your cheek before pulling back and kissing the tender flesh at the crook of your elbow, resting by your ear.

His mouth works its way back down your arm and slides over to nip briefly at your aching peak and you arch your body to him again.  “What are you doing?  You hate morning sex?” You ask, your voice gruff from your sleep, the first sounds you’ve made all day.  Your throat feels scratchy and you hope you’re not- stop, focus, sexy husband loving on you…

“This isn’t sex.  This is love making.  I’m loving you,”  he replies as his kisses move down your belly.  His words give you goosebumps and you wonder at his meaning.  “Worshiping you…”

You can’t speak as your next breath is lost when he kisses against your heated mound, wanting him so badly to go down on you, as had been your hope last night.  Instead, his kisses are chaste and light, and he continues down your thighs, raising your leg to kiss the tender spot behind your knee, the spot he knows isn’t sexual, but you find so damn sexy.  Your hands above your head grasp at the air and you wish to reach to him, but you follow his unspoken directive and keep them there.

For the first time, you realize he is naked.  All of his touches have been about you and not trying to get anything in return and your heart swells with love for this wonderful man you had the good fortune to fall in love with and marry.  Keeping your leg raised, he wraps both hands around your calf, massaging deeply where you pulled it earlier in the week.  You moan in delight, and bite your lip at the actual pain his touch creates in the torn tissue.

“Too rough? Sorry,” and he lightens his pressure.

You can feel his eyes drinking you all in, but you don’t open yours.  Your mind is in a haze and just soaking in his love and attention.  He shifts on the bed again, and moves closer to you, tapping the head of his cock against the swollen lips of your throbbing pussy, tight with building desire.  “Want this?” he teases.

“Yes, please.”

He pulls back and says, “Not yet,” surprising you as he plunges two fingers deep inside your wet flow.  “Oh, baby, you’re so hot; so ready.” He wonders aloud, his voice deep with emotion.

His fingers slide in and out, teasing you, loving you, caressing over your taint.  He pulls out the wet and smears it around your outer lips, pushing down with his other hand on your mound, stopping your squirming.  “I think you want this?  Did you miss me this week?”

“You know I did.”

“Good.  I missed you too,” he whispers as he leans forward and pulls your nipple between his teeth.  You buck against him and he chuckles, his breath hot against your chest as he runs his nose over the valley between your beautiful breasts  Tracing the tip of his slightly crooked nose around the other pink bud he pauses before wrapping his tongue around it and sucking it in.

As his thick fingers see to their task, he shifts his body again and climbs up the bed.  When you open your eyes, you smile up at him and shake your head at his stance, his cock within tongue’s reach.  You open wide, not moving your hands, per his preference and he pushes into your warm hole, taking him in.  He sighs in relief and reaches to cup your cheek, running his thumb across your freckles, pumping in and out of your mouth, never giving you more than you can take. Mid stride you clamp your jaw, slightly using your teeth to hold him in place, to savour him as you wrap your tongue along the ridge of the top, caressing across the slit.  You suck in, dragging out the precum and enjoying his sweet taste.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he chuckles quietly and plucks his cock from between your teeth, rubbing the tight head against your soft pink lips.  “There we go; now your eyes have that dark look.  You want my cock, don’t you?”

Damn him.  “Yes, please.” You smile.

“Still to proud to beg?” he teases, “After all these years?”

“Why should I beg? You know you’ll give it to me… Your cock needs me.”

He climbs over you hovering with a sinister grin on his face.  “Oh, is that right?”  Rubbing his hard cock against your pulsing heat you twist your body at the agony of waiting.

Your eyes dance, a fire in them, knowing the game is about over.  “If you give it to me, I promise I’ll take real good care of it.”  Raising your body under his, his cock slips between your wet folds and he lunges forward, pushing you to the bed.

“That’s a good promise,” he moans, grinding against you, falling into your natural rhythms together.

“Shit,” You hiss.  “Wait; you need to wrap it up!”

You push against his massive chest, knowing it won’t actually budge.  He stills inside you, and your body reacts, opening up and allowing him to sink deeper into your succulent cavern. Traitor.

He drops forward on his elbows and you can feel him settling deeper against you.  His lips skim along the velvety skin of your inner arms before moving to take your mouth in his.  The kiss is so tender and filled with love; perfect.

“Why? Maybe it’s time to make another? You feel so right today and we said we’d try again for a little girl… Do I really have to pull out and get a condom?  Let’s stay in bed all day and make a baby… a little princess, as beautiful as her mother?  That sounds like a perfect Saturday, Mrs. Evans.”

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