Bringing Sunshine to Boston

brining Sunshine to Boston August 29 2016

Bringing Sunshine to Boston

A Sunshine Story

By avenger-nerd-mom

Chris X plus size OFC Sunshine

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

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

Word Count: 2979

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

“Sunshine?” he asks quizzically.

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

london towel

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

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

“You’ll see.”

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

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

“Your ass just begs for a spanking.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

cuddles 5

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Cookies cover.jpg


an Emery and Chris story

by avenger-nerd-mom

Chris and Emery enjoy a sweet escape from the Philly Con

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

Word Count: 2459

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

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

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

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

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

“Cookies.  Now.  Let my brain rest.”

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

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

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

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

“Sweetheart, I really don’t-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chris clears his throat, but says nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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