Author Note:
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoy this 99% fictional story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I will warn you though, it is lengthy. But, I wrote it as if it were a multi course, gourmet meal. Each dish is more delectable than the last, bringing you to the best part, the dessert. This is a Summer Lovin Contest entry so if you love it be sure to vote, and feel free to leave any comments, good or bad. I love seeing what others think of my work. Enjoy!
-Bren
****
Chris couldn't wait to go home. He had four hours left of his forty-eight hour firemen's rotation. A coveted three day weekend with his incredibly sexy wife, jet skis on a crystal clear lake, fire cooked meat and plenty of ice cold beer waited for him.
"Hey, I think I'm going to go hit the weights or something," he said tossing the controller on the coffee table. "I'm just not into this game."
He wandered into the kitchen, and habitually opened the refrigerator door. Grimacing at the sugary snacks permanently residing there, he grabbed a bottle of water.
Chris pulled his phone from his pocket and flopped down in the kitchen chair, opening a new text message to his wife,
"So I was just thinking...?"
She instantly replied,
"Oh yeah, about what?"
"About how much fun I'm going to have with you this weekend, and how sexy those new heels looked the other night. I can't wait to see them on you again,"
He hit send with a wicked little grin, as he shifted back in the chair and waited for her reply.
He didn't have to wait but a second for her response,
"I wore them to work today."
She ended her message with a winking emoticon.
"What else did you wear today?"
"The black pencil skirt with the slit up the side that you love so much."
"I do love that skirt. You look fantastic in it. What about underneath?"
He could almost see the feint blush creep into her cheeks.
"You'll have to wait and see what's underneath... you naughty thing."
The vulgar curses and shouts drew his attention. He tipped the chair back on two legs and peered around the corner into the living room. Four guys had controllers in their hands and two more stood behind the couch cheering on their teammates. He clearly was not missed.
Still balancing on two legs, his thumbs flew across the screen,
"I am a naughty thing. If I were right there now..."
and bounced back down on all four.
"You know 'there' is actually at my office right now, yes?"
Images of exactly how he could use the big oak desk of hers raced through his mind.
"Even better. So if I were there, I'd lock the door making you look up from your work, with that cute little smile you give me when I get to come surprise you. You can see how much I want you just how I'm standing. Then..."
A few short seconds later,
"Then what, Lover?"
Leaning on his elbows, with a half grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, he replied,
"You slowly walk over to me, your heels sinking into the carpet and the sway of your hips make the slit in your skirt show just a peek of your thigh. You wrap your arms around my neck, press that gorgeous little body up against me and kiss me. Soft and slow at first then harder and faster as things heat up..."
"Oh, I love kissing you. You're so unbelievably good at it... So then you grab my ass and lift me onto you. I can feel how hard you already are for me, from just my kiss. I squeeze tight with my thighs, not wanting to fall."
His growing erection pressed against his zipper, making him shift uncomfortably in his seat.
"Baby, that's not imagined. I AM hard for you... right now."
"How scandalous, at work with a raging hard-on... I love it!... So, do you pin me against the door, crunching the blinds or do I straddle your lap in the chair?"
Chris flicked his eyes towards the ceiling for half of a second, and considered his options.
"I take us to the chair,"
he decided.
"I love watching you move on top of me... I move my lips from yours and place kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. You sigh a little and grind your hips involuntarily against me. Then..."
His phone quickly buzzed with her reply,
"You rub your hands up my thighs, pushing my skirt up around my hips. I reach between us and unbutton your pants. Then, I lightly run my nails up under your shirt, across your abs, your chest, and over your shoulders, making your pulse a little faster. Then..."
A second message immediately followed,
"I love how the thick muscles of your shoulders and arms feel under my hands."
His ego swelled another inch and his pants grew even tighter. Chris completely forgot the six other guys engrossed in the video game, a mere sheet of dry wall away.
"God, I want to yank your shirt off and pull your bra down with my teeth, right now. I want to hear you sigh and moan as I taste your hard little nipples...."
"It feels so good when you're rough with my nips. You're making me so hot right now I can barely sit still... Tell me what else you would do if you were here."
"Well, as I suck on your nipple, I move my other hand up your inner thigh and discover you are a naughty little thing as well, you did not wear panties today... So, I slide my fingers along your smooth lips. I press just the tip of my middle finger inside and rub your clit with the heel of my hand. You grind your hips hard against my hand trying to push me deeper, but I don't let you."
Just as he sit send, the alarm blared throughout the house.
CHIIRRP! CHIIRRP! CHIIRRP! CHIIRRP! CHIIRRP!
"Fuck me!" he groaned aloud.
Chris scrambled out of his seat, adjusted him self so the hard bulge in his pants wasn't completely obvious and prayed to all gods above it would quickly go down. He typed with lightning speed,
"Gotta go babe. Fire."
He stuffed his phone in his pocket and rushed to get his gear.
****
The entire twenty minute drive home, their erotic text session haunted Chris's brain. He could almost hear her moans and sighs of pleasure. By the time he pulled into their suburban neighborhood, he was wound tight as a spring.
Chris slammed on the brakes and swore out loud, the front bumper of his Jeep mere inches from Jillian's cherry red Escalade. Grinding the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, he vaguely remembered Emma tell him Jillian and her insanely spoiled, entitled, and ridiculously wealthy family was joining them for the barbecue.
A frustrated growl rose from his chest as he backed up and parked by the curb in front of their house. "Shit!" he said aloud. "Why in God's name are they early?"
He took a deep settling breath, or two, and trudged up the driveway. Once inside, he dropped his backpack beside the entry bench, sat and tugged off his boots.
As if perfectly choreographed, Jillian met him with a big showy hug just as he stepped into the living room. She stretched up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her fake tits into his chest and clung to him for far longer than he cared for.
"Hello, Jillian." He made a wide arc with his arm and gave her a polite pat on the back, "How's Brian and the kids? They out back?"
Any straight man would have been either blind or in a coma not to find her attractive, she paid a fortune to make certain of that fact. She was a walking centerfold, bombshell with her low cut shimmery shirt and caramel skirt hugging her tight little body like a second skin. However, every fake, pretentious fiber of her being irked Chris to the core. He liked women who had brains in their heads, weren't afraid to order a steak as rare or as burnt as she preferred, and looked just as good in a dress and heels as she did in worn jeans and a t-shirt. His pretty wife Emma, fit that tall order to the letter.
Jillian let her hands linger on his shoulders, leaned back onto her wedge sandals and flashed a bleached smile, "Oh you know Brian, he always has to work late. He said he would try and meet us at the lake tomorrow though." She trailed her fingertips, along with her eyes, over the swell of his bicep, "Ava and Avery decided they wanted to go to one of their friends sleepovers this weekend and Aiden has a new girlfriend so he wanted to stay with her." She shrugged and continued in a sugary voice, "So, it's just little ol me."
"Yeah, that's too bad," he said with as little interest as he could muster. "Where's Emma?" He tipped his head at her shoes, "You know she'll kill you, if she sees you with shoes on in the house."
She popped a hip to the side swept her hand the length of her body like a game show model, "I've already made it clear, that this ensemble-"
He cut her off with a step around her, towards the kitchen, pleased with the little 'harumph' he heard behind him.