Forever Pucked(6)

Alex lifts his shirt over his head and drops it on the floor. I'll never  get tired of looking at his hard, hot body. I don't dare look away as  he pops the button on his jeans and lowers the zipper. He pushes them to  his ankles and steps out of them. Then the socks come off. I press my  knees together as he slips his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer  briefs and drags them down. It's like a striptease with no music, except  for the rapid beating of my heart and the moan I accidentally set free.

He's gloriously naked and already hard. His erection juts straight out,  the one eye staring right at me. Maybe the shower isn't all that  important after all. I can deal with the onion breath and exhaust-fumes  smell. I sit up and reach for him, but he takes a step back.

A small smirk tugs at the corner of his plush lips. "I thought you wanted me to get clean first."

"I changed my mind."

"What about shaving?"

"Shaving's for pussies. Bring it here." I motion him forward, but he doesn't move, so I pull my shirt over my head.

Which is when I realize I'm wearing a really ugly bra. It's old, and  while it was once white, it's now all discolored and greying on the  straps. There's even a snag in the satiny fabric over my left boob.

Alex lifts an eyebrow as his focus shifts from my face to my chest. "Nice."

"I was going to change after work!" My initial plan was to get suited up  in new lingerie-which I purchased earlier in the week when Alex talked  about celebrating the next sexiversary-before I was under the wrongful  impression that he wouldn't be home tonight. I hurry to unclasp it, but  of course, even that isn't in the best shape, so it's more difficult  than usual. I'm writhing around on the bed like a tasered eel.

Alex chuckles and heads for the bathroom, calling over his shoulder, "Get naked and get in the shower with me."

He reaches in and turns on the tap, adjusting the temperature. He's half  bent over, giving me a fabulous view of his perfect, tight ass. His ass  really is fantastic-so muscular, so awesome for holding onto when he's  pounding the orgasms out of me.

Alex opens the vanity and retrieves his shaving kit. He could totally  forgo that part, and he knows I won't complain, but he's torturing me  now. Whatever. Two can play at this game.                       
       
           



       

I kneel on the bed and pretend I'm watching him, which of course I am. I  can also see my reflection in the mirror, which means so can he. Now  that the hideous bra is gone, I take my time stripping out of the rest  of my clothes while he uses the trimmer. It'll take his beard down  enough to make shaving with a razor possible.

Alex glances at me as I drag the zipper down on my skirt and let it fall  to the bed. Before I do the same with my tights I pull out the  waistband and take a peek at my panties. They're also ugly and in  horrible condition, so I speed up my impromptu striptease and push them  over my hips together with the tights.

Thankfully, I had the foresight to take care of my beaver bush before  Alex came home. I saunter into the bathroom. He isn't even paying  attention to what he's doing to his face anymore. He keeps going over  the same spot repeatedly while he watches my approach.

The room is already filling with steam. When I'm close enough, I press my boobs against his back and hug him from behind.

I run my hands over his abs, then lower, past his navel. I stop short of  his massive erection, which incidentally is resting on top of the  vanity with beard clippings sprinkled over it. Instead of grabbing his  dick, I reach for my toothbrush and the toothpaste. If he's going to the  trouble to freshen up, I should, too.

He's eyeing me with something close to contempt, or maybe it's sheer  animal lust. Either way, it's reminiscent of the look he wears when he's  in the penalty box. Sex after games when Alex has gotten a penalty is  always the best. He gets so riled up. I take my toothbrush into the  shower with me, wiping away the fog on the inside so I can watch Alex  through the glass.

He's in a funny mood tonight. I can't quite gauge it. He's slow and  methodical with the shaving routine. I realize this is purposeful. I  denied him when I walked in the door. It might not have had anything to  do with whether I wanted him, but he's taken offense nonetheless. My  fiancé is sensitive.

Once he's finished shaving, he moves on to brushing his teeth. Then he  rinses with mouthwash and follows up with a Listerine PocketPak strip.  It's probably overkill, but he's courteous like that, and the onion  breath is the reason we're not currently having sex. When he starts  cleaning up after himself, I decide I've had enough of waiting.

I squirt some body wash on my palms and rub them together, then massage it into my chest.

"Alex?" I wait until he looks at me before I press my boobs against the glass. "Are you ready for me?"

His lids lower and the tic below his left eye tells me what I already know: he sure as fuck is.

He drops the shaving cream on the vanity, or at least attempts to, but  he misses and it hits the floor with a tinny thump. He doesn't seem to  notice as he opens the shower door and steps inside. I don't even get a  chance to turn around before he's pressed against me. He runs a palm  across my collarbone and along my neck. Turning my head toward him, he  kisses the corner of my mouth.

"Don't you have anything to say to me today?" he asks softly.

"I missed you."

"I know that. I missed you, too. Anything else?" He skims my side with  his free hand, and I jerk as he brushes past the ticklish spot.

"I love you."

"I know that, too." His fingers travel over my hip and then lower, stopping shy of my very hungry beaver.

He's waiting for something, but I'm not sure what. I filter through our  conversations over text today …  I acknowledged the beaver, and I'm sure I  thanked him for it. Then it dawns on me.

"Happy sexiversary, Alex."

He stills, fingertips digging in. "Anniversary, Violet. It's our anniversary."

"I thought we celebrated that last month. Besides, all the anniversaries  we have include sexing, which sounds more fun," I explain.

"Mmm. I see your point. But I think this one is particularly special  since you agreed to do more than just let me get inside you." He sounds  the tiniest bit hurt.

"Happy anniversary, Alex," I murmur, appeasing him.

I feel his smile on my cheek. Because he's won. I'm okay with that; in  the end, we'll both win. He turns my head so he can get to my mouth.  It's a soft kiss, warm and wet and minty. I want to turn around so we're  front to front, but he still has me pressed against the glass. When I  push my ass out, he shifts his hips forward and his erection slides over  my wet skin. He cups me with his wide palm, and I groan, anticipating  his fingers.

Now don't get me wrong, I jill off like the rest of the female  population when our significant other is out of town, but it's not  nearly as gratifying as when the person you love does the work for you.                       
       
           



       

"Happy anniversary, baby. I'm glad I made it home to celebrate with you."

The hand over my beaver moves up instead of down, and I start to  protest, but Alex's tongue sweeps out to tangle with mine. I grab his  hair and crane my neck, leaning into him, trying to get closer even  though there's no space between us. He palms one of my breasts and  groans, low and deep. Jesus. We're so fucking horny. This first round is  going to be quick and dirty.

Alex releases my chin and takes a step back so I'm no longer pressed  against the glass. Now that I have room to move, I try to turn, but he  tightens his arm around my waist. With his lips on my shoulder, he drags  his forearm down the glass, wiping away the fog.

The bathroom door is open and the fan is on, allowing the steam to  escape and preventing the vanity mirror from being obscured. Through the  water-spotted glass I have a perfect view of Alex groping my boob with  his mouth on my skin. I'm so glad I wore my contacts today.

He's so much bigger than me. The top of my head barely reaches his chin  when he's standing straight, and his shoulders are twice as wide as  mine. His presence should be intimidating, but I know that under all  that fuckhot muscle is the sweetest, most romantic, sensitive man on the  planet. Sometimes I can't believe I managed to score such a hottie.

"You want me to take it easy on you?" he asks, sucking on my neck. He's  probably going to leave a few marks. Not that it matters; I'll wear my  hair down, if that's the case.

"No, thanks. The opposite of that would be good right about now."

He exhales a hard breath. "Fuck, I love you."

Alex holds me against his chest with one hand covering my boob, his  fingers separated so my nipple peeks out between them. Once again, this  is intentional. He loves my boobs almost as much as he loves the rest of  me. It's unlikely he'll let go unless he absolutely has to.