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“The other times….” He trails off and shakes his head. “Never mind. Just trust me. It’s uncanny.”
“Am I reading your mind right now when I say I’d really like your pants to come off?”
“I suppose you might be.”
“Okay. Let me help you.” I wriggle out from under him in record time.
Also, hello, working fingers. I grab his pants and do a quick rip and slip—minus the rip, as it’s just the motion—and I get the button undone. Yay for tux pants. They’re so much easier to get off than jeans. Come to think of it; I’ve never seen Alden in jeans. The sight of denim hugging his tight bottom would probably undo me completely, so maybe it’s just as well.
The pants slide down, and Alden flops on his back so I can pull them off not so gently. His boxers are tight black with a white waistband and big block lettering in black. And my god, I think he might have to go into the record books somewhere, anywhere, and everywhere for being the sexiest guy wearing boxers on the planet. I don’t know why I’m being so bold, except that if I don’t take charge, I think Alden would be too shy to do this. Yes. Too. Shy.
Mhmm, he’s a man, and there isn’t anything wrong or emasculating about being shy. Honestly, I’m not into getting my ass slapped, although if he tried it gently, I might be down, my hair pulled—again, I might be down if it was gentle and it was Alden—or getting bossed around. I know women all over the world love alpha stuff. I like reading it, but it’s not what I want in real life. What I want is a partner who is respectful, considerate, and kind. Shy? I can work with that. It’s kind of fun experimenting together. Plus, there are a lot of things to be shy about. I get it. We’re married—really, literally, totally married, but we hardly know each other. We’ve shared only a few brief—albeit scorching—kisses. We’ve spent only a few days with each other—make that only one full day and some residual time—and now it’s broad daylight, and we’re in bed together.
Yes, some shyness is perfectly alright.
There was nothing shy about that orgasm he gave me or about how he ate my pussy with total abandon, so I have high hopes for this.
Alden is still on his back when I decide to help him get his boxers off. His chest is now a nice pale color. He doesn’t have the deep Florida tan that most people either have, real or fake, and that’s pretty nice too. I think it’s sexy that he went to all that effort, and probably considerable pain for me. Razor burns suck. They really do. I’m glad to see that his skin is less angry today.
And when we both work on tugging his boxers down, there is no razor burn down there. Just a normal amount of man hair, two normal balls—thank god I didn’t break anything with my knee—and one, uh, very thick, very large, um…male pants snake? Oh, come on, you can do better than that. Be dirty. It’s just your mind here. Fine. Cock. His cock is massive.
It makes it even more adorable that when I look up at his face, his cheeks are scarlet. This is a hot guy who doesn’t think he’s hot. I know what I said about his ego at first, but I said those things without really knowing him, and I was wrong. He’s also got a big…erm…package. This guy has all the goods—haha, nice pun—and yet he’s totally humble in the bedroom.
I take the bull by the horns—alright, so it’s not a bull, and there’s only one horn…oh my god, the imagery is getting worse. I wrap my palm around Alden’s thick shaft, and he gasps out a stuttering breath and shudders violently. I smooth my hand over him, enjoying the way his cock flexes in my palm, the warmth of him, and his rock-hard hardness. I straddle him boldly, still running my hand down his shaft.
“If you want to do that thing I said where I…um…where I’m on my back, and my legs are, you know, not on the bed, then you…you could do that if you want.”
Yup, it’s just shyness. Because with a little encouragement, Alden blushes again, but he moves quickly, his body a treat of masculine grace that I feel like I have a front-row ticket in a sold-out show to watch. But it’s just me who gets to be there. The ticket was for an audience of one. Me. His wife.
Wow. Just wow. I didn’t realize what a headfuck that word could be.
Alden flips me onto my back, grasps my ankles, and maneuvers them up in the air. Thank goodness for yoga classes because I’m fairly flexible. I keep my legs straight while he hauls me toward the edge of the bed. My butt is nearly off the mattress, but I guess that’s the point. I’m not worried because I know that Alden has me. Alden has me. His hand caresses my hip and ass as he steps toward me. My legs hit his solid shoulders, my toes pointing at the ceiling. My butt hits…well, not his shoulders. I suppose it would be his legs and pelvic area. He tucks a hand under me, and hellooooo, Alden’s pelvis. His hand parts my legs and smooths my wetness over me—my god, how is it possible to still be this wet?—and slowly and gently, he fits his cock to my entrance.
