Little does he know I have plans of my own for us, and all the important stuff is downstairs in the living room by the fireplace. The rest is in the fridge. It’s okay, though. If we don’t make it down there tonight, there’s always tomorrow, or the day after that.
He sets me on the bed and leans down, resting his head on my boobs so he can nuzzle in. When he pulls away after what I feel is too short a time, I clamp my legs around his waist.
He shifts so his chin rests in the valley of my boobs. His expression is serious, but his eyes reveal his amusement. “I can’t get clean if you won’t let me go.”
He runs a gentle hand down the outside of my thigh, stopping at the back of my knee, urging me to disengage. I can feel the monster cock. He’s already excited about being close to my beaver, so I’m reluctant to let go. Alex has a point, though.
My skirt is pooled around my waist, but I’m wearing opaque tights, so he can’t see anything important. Like my undies. I can’t remember which ones I put on this morning, having been in a bit of a rush.
Alex straightens with his palms still hooked under my knees. His hands are rough; I can hear the nylon fabric catching as he kneads the backs of my calves. I don’t care though, he’s touching me, and it’s been more than a week, so I’m good with having to buy new tights. I can afford it.
His eyes move up my body, like he’s studying a familiar map. He rubs his scruffy beard. “You want me to shave?”
“Please.” My skin is extra sensitive in the winter. I don’t want it to get all chafed, otherwise it will put a damper on sexy times this week. Whenever Alex comes home from being away, we have a lot of make-up-for-missed-occasions sex.
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.