Forever Pucked(9)

She's referring to my mom with that last part. "I think she uses Aussie."

"Same difference."

"Aussie smells a little better."

Violet releases me, puts her hands on my shoulders and kisses my chin.  "I'll give Super MC a big, warm hug when I get home tonight, okay?"

"We can hardly wait." I drop my head so I can give her a real kiss, with some tongue.

Violet grabs my shirt, bending backward as I keep leaning in. "I really have to go," she mumbles around my tongue.

"I'm not stopping you."

She realizes then that I'm right. My hands are full. I'm not keeping our  mouths fused, she is. She releases me, and a long breath. I grin,  having succeeded in making her not mad at me anymore-and now she's  probably thinking about sex. Good. She can't take care of her needs at  the office the same way I can at home. All damn day, if I want.

"I'll see you tonight." I pass her the bagel and coffee and open the door leading to the garage.

Violet stops short. "Shit."

Her car isn't in its spot. "Did you leave the car in the driveway?"  Sometimes she does this. Violet isn't the best at parking. She dings the  corners or hits the mirrors all the time. I usually do the driving when  we're together, mostly so I won't lose my mind.

"It's at work. Charlene drove me home."

"I'll take you in. Gives me more time with you." I kiss her cheek.

"You're so good to me. I love you." She sounds contrite now.

"I want to take care of you as much as you'll let me." I give her a pat on the ass. "You get in the car; I'll throw on shoes."

Violet grabs the keys to the SUV, and I head back inside, waiting until  she can't see me before I smile. I'm winning all kinds of points. It's  perfect. I'll have dinner ready when she gets home, and then she can be  dessert. By that time, my comment about her quitting her job should be  all but forgotten.

Violet's in the car scarfing down her bagel as I slide into the driver's  seat. She puts her hand up to cover her mouth. "This is so good."

"Extra creamy, the way you like it." I stretch my arm across the seat so  I can rub the back of her neck while I pull out of the garage. The  maintenance guys have been by again, so the driveway is clear, but the  streets aren't in quite the same condition.

"So creamy. I feel like I owe you a blow job or something for denying the Super MC this morning."

"He misses your mouth," I say, like my dick is actually a person.

Violet's named him, she dresses him up on occasion, and she's made a  Play-Doh sculpture, so I suppose in some ways he is his own man.

"That's because I give seriously awesome blow jobs." She takes a bite of  her bagel and cream cheese squeezes out of the corner of her mouth,  like jizz would if she happened to decide to go down on me in the car.                       
       
           



       

"This is true." I shift my erection around in my jogging pants so it's  sticking up, tenting my sweats. The head rests on the base of the  steering wheel, covered by gray fabric.

"Wow, you're really excited about a blow job, eh?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm always excited about your mouth on my cock."

Violet takes another bite of her bagel, oblivious to my hint. Or maybe  ignoring it. So I try to be more obvious. I pull down the waistband so  my erection pops out, the cool air making my balls tighten.

Violet glances down. "What're you doing?"

"You said you felt bad. I'm making it easier to alleviate your guilty conscience."

"Using more than one fifty-cent word in a sentence isn't going to get you road head."

I stroke the back of her neck. "You've given me road head before."

"Yeah, but that was in the summer, and we were on back roads, not in the  middle of the city." She gestures to the traffic around us, which is  filling in quickly as we head into the Loop.

"The windows are tinted. No one can see."

"The roads are slick. I don't want your attention divided between me  bobbing on your dick and driving. This isn't Canada, Alex. Not everyone  here believes in snow tires. I need you focused on our safety, not how  warm and wet my mouth is, or how far I can get your dick down my  throat."

"Just for a minute?" I'm pretty much begging at this point, but she's so descriptive, I can imagine how good it will feel.

"I can't go into work with blow-job lips." She shoves the last of her  bagel in her mouth, pushing it to the side so one of her cheeks puffs  out, reminding me exactly what she looks like when she's doing what  we're talking about, minus the chewing.

"Blow-job lips?"

She swallows, then swipes the back of her hand across her mouth to get  rid of the crumbs. "You know, when they're all swollen and flushed, like  I've been licking them too much. Charlene will notice."

"Why would it matter if Charlene notices?" He's still exposed, hanging  out, all lonely like, so I grab on to him and give him a stroke, drawing  Violet's attention there.

"Jimmy and Dean will notice, too."

Those guys work in Violet's department. The four of them work on a lot  of projects together. I'd be more concerned about how much time she  spends with them, except Violet once kindly informed me that they're  much more attracted to me than they are to her.

"You could touch it instead." I cringe at my pleading tone.

I earn more than eight million dollars a year. I'm team captain and  center. I have the second-best scoring stats in the league. My cock is  huge. I'm nice to look at, and I'm in great physical condition. I  shouldn't have to beg my fiancée to touch my dick; she should want to  ride it every minute of every day-in my fantasies anyway. In reality, I  know that's not how life works.

"I don't think a handy is a good idea, either. Still too distracting.  Besides, we're already here." She gestures to her work, which I almost  drive past. Instead I double park and piss off the cars behind me.

"I'll see you tonight." She leans over and kisses me, then lowers her  head and plants one on the head of my poor, throbbing cock. "I'll suck  you later."

Popping back up without so much as a lick or a stroke, she smiles  brightly. "Thanks for driving me in! I better get out before someone  goes ballistic behind us." Honking follows, so she opens the door. "I  love you!"

A cold gust of wind forces me to tuck my hard-on back in to my sweats. "No problem. See you-"

She slams the door and runs into the building, leaving me and my raging  blue balls alone. Another horn blasts behind me, so I take my foot off  the brake and move along. I keep one hand on the wheel and the other  holding my handle all the way home.

As soon as I'm inside, I rub one out, leaning against the side door. I  manage to make it to the laundry room, where I come in the sink. The  ache in my balls makes it less enjoyable than it should be. Also,  Violet's hands are much softer than mine, which is a huge factor in how  good it feels.

After I'm done sorting out my issues, I call Darren to see if he wants  to hit the gym early. We have a training session early this afternoon,  but my right shoulder's been acting up on and off for the past couple of  months, and I want to do some additional exercises to work out the  kinks. Also, I need a release for all the energy I'd hoped to burn today  with Violet.

Darren's all for it, probably because we're in the same boat today:  women at work and us at home. I change into my gym gear, pack my duffle  with extra clothes, and pick him up. He tosses his bag in the back and  slides in next to me.                       
       
           



       

"How's it goin'?"

He adjusts his sunglasses and gives me one of his private smiles. "I had a good night, and an even better morning. You?"

Darren isn't a details guy. But then, he doesn't need to be. His relaxed posture and tone say it all.

"Last night was great." It comes out with an edge.

"Your morning didn't go well? You bring up the wedding with Violet again or something?"

Darren is one of the few people I talk openly to about the wedding stuff, or the lack of wedding stuff.

"I haven't mentioned it in weeks."

After the fiasco that was our engagement party, I left the topic alone  for a while. Our moms went overboard with the guest list and invited two  hundred people to celebrate in my backyard. Violet doesn't like to be  the center of attention in a crowd like that. She ended up with a raging  case of hives, which took setting a date off the table.

By the holidays, I figured she would've gotten over it, but every time  our mothers started in on setting a date, Violet broke out. We've gone  through a lot of Benadryl in the past several months.