Forever Pucked(34)

"Is it good? Does it feel good?" she asks.

"So good."

She keeps moving over me. I know she's taking it easy, unsure exactly  what makes me feel good or bad. While I appreciate the view, I'd like  her closer. Besides, she's more likely to come again if she's rubbing up  on my pelvis, and she can't really do all the work and rub herself at  the same time.

"C'mere." I crook a finger.

She leans forward and puts a palm on either side of my head again. Her  nipples brush my chest, but she holds her own weight. "It's a good thing  Sunny's been forcing me to do all this yoga, eh?"

She's sweaty, and her cheeks are flushed. She looks gorgeous and sexy. "Definitely a good thing."

She does some more hip shifting and moaning. "This takes a lot of coordination."

"You're doing awesome, baby." I clasp the back of her neck and bring her lips to mine.

She has a hard time keeping her rhythm and kissing at the same time, so I  let her go after a minute. She stays nice and close, though, boobs  bumping my chest as she rides me. I decide I don't mind it all that  much. I do what I can, but I'm limited in the thrusting department for  the time being.

I know she's getting close when the cock-love chanting starts. Which is  good, because I'm right there with her. Her arms are shaking; she's  struggling to hold herself up. Normally I'd take over now and give her  another orgasm, if not two. "You almost there?" I ask.

She nods frantically. "I can't-I'm gonna-" Her muscles lock. "Oh, God. Your cock is amazing."

That's the sign we're good to go. I let the orgasm slam into me while  Violet continues to moan. When she's done, her arms give out, and she  flops onto my chest. I grunt, but grit my teeth against the spike of  pain in my ribs. Most of the time, after sex, we cuddle for a bit.  Violet likes to keep hugging my dick until it's mostly soft. We go  through a lot of sheets that way, but I don't mind since I'm not the one  who washes them.

I stroke her back and kiss the top of her head, enjoying the weight of her, even if it's making my ribs ache.

"Oh, shit!" She quickly flips over to her right. It's definitely one of  her more graceful moves. "Sorry! I forgot about how broken you are!"

"I'm not broken."                       
       
           



       

"But your ribs." She skims the tape binding me together. "And I was  lying on you." She grabs her pillow and pushes it next to mine, then  snuggles into my good side.

"I'm not made of glass."

"I know." She puts her hand on my chest, over my heart, and sighs. "That was a lot of work. I'm so sweaty."

"I like you sweaty."

"It's gross; I need to shower, and these sheets will have to go. Plus  now I'm leaking you and me all over them." Violet circles my nipple with  a fingernail. "You make it seem effortless, but obviously it's not."

"I'm an athlete, Vi. Sex isn't a difficult workout; it's a fun one."

"I have a new appreciation for your level of endurance when we have sex."

"Making you come isn't work. I like taking care of you. I want to make  you feel good. This-" I motion to my messed-up shoulder. "I don't like  not being able to give you what you need."

"You just did."

"No, you got you off, not me."

Violet pushes up so she can look directly at me. "You got me off the  first time. We got me off the second time. Super MC is a huge part of  that equation. This is only temporary, Alex. You'll be fucking me into  oblivion again soon enough."

"I'm looking forward to that."

Violet gets a warm washcloth and cleans me up. That part I'm good with.  Her having a shower without me is another thing I'm perpetually bummed  about these days. I could get in there with her, but washing myself is  awkward, and then she'll want to do it for me. It's one thing when she's  playing around and does it, but actually having to be my nurse is  different. She's got enough extra work to do right now.

I watch her from the bed. She rubs her boobs all over the glass and then  turns around and does the same thing with her ass. Any other time I'd  get out of bed to do something about all the teasing, but sex has worn  me out, so I stay where I am and admire the view.

My phone dings with a text from my dad as she gets out of the shower.  We've had daily conversations, and there've been a lot of messages back  and forth about how I'm feeling and the progress-or lack of-I'm making.  This time he's letting me know he and my mom will be at the house in  about fifteen minutes. I put on a clean pair of sweats and find a zip-up  hoodie so I don't have to mess around with my shoulder too much.

"So, I did something, and I don't want you to be upset with me," Violet says.

I stop fighting the zipper and look at her.

She's wearing a red bra and matching panties. They're satiny. And distracting. This feels like a set-up.

"You can't use that as a conversation starter without making someone edgy, Violet."

"I'm making it sound worse than it is." She crosses over and adjusts my  zipper, pulling it up for me. "So I figured your mom needed some help in  the hair department."

"What did you do?" I sound snappy, because if there's one thing no one  should ever mess with, it's my mom's hair. It might be two or three  decades past it's prime, but it's how she wears it and no one, not even  my dad, has ever been able to get her to change. It doesn't help that  her longtime hairdresser supports the excessive use of hair products and  teasing.

"Last night I emptied out all the cans of hairspray she brought with  her, and then made sure we didn't have any more in the house."

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"That your mom is living in a time warp, and I'd like to be able to hug  her without worrying about chemical poisoning or being ensnared in her  web of hairspray! She's fine. I managed the situation." Violet adjusts  her bra, pushing her boobs together.

"Managed it how?" Her cleavage is amazing, so it's impossible not to  stare. I hope by the end of next week I'm not so stiff. Then maybe we  could do boob sex. I miss it.

"I did her hair for her this morning."

"You what?" I'm getting hard again, which is a good sign.

"You can hold one if that'll help you pay better attention to this  conversation." She takes my hand and puts it on her left boob. Then she  puts a finger under my chin and gently encourages me to look her in the  eye. "I styled her hair for her. If you could mention how nice it looks,  it would be helpful. Hopefully your dad likes it, and we can convince  her not to go back to her eighties time warp."

"You styled her hair? When?"

"Six-thirty this morning. She came knocking when she couldn't find hairspray."                       
       
           



       

"That was nice of you."

Violet shrugs. "I had selfish intent. I don't want her to have helmet  hair for our wedding photos. Besides, it's time she dove hair-first into  the twenty-first century. Next we'll have to take her clothes shopping.  I'm going to get my mom in on that."

I stare at Violet and continue to hold her boob. First of all, I don't  know why no one else has ever thought to do something like this to cure  my mom of her eighties-hair-band-reject 'do. Second, Violet mentioned  the wedding without making a face like she'd eaten something rotten and  without any external prompting from me.

She drops my hand and leaves me standing in the middle of the room while  she picks an outfit. She chooses a pair of jeans, which I had tailored  specifically so they hug her ass, and a sexy red shirt that shows a tiny  hint of cleavage.

"Aren't you going to put on pants?" She motions to my bottom half. "You can't hide a hard-on in those."

I glance down. She's right; I have an obvious semi. I haven't worn  anything but sweats since coming home from the hospital. Zippers and  buttons are a challenge. Violet disappears into the closet and returns  with a pair of jeans. Then she helps me out of my sweats and into my  pants. It puts her at eye level with my dick. She doesn't do anything  but give it a pat and rearrange it so it's sitting at a nice angle.

I'm still slow on the stairs, but it's better than when I first came home. We're in the kitchen when my parents come in.

"Just act natural," Violet says.

"Okay." I can't imagine a change in hairstyle is going to make that much  of a difference when my mom still dresses like it's 1986. I guess I'm  so used to it that it's become normal for me.

We wait for them to appear, but all I hear are giggles from my mom and  then nothing. Violet and I look at each other and head for the foyer.  Now I'm seriously curious as to what's going on.