“Want me to hug the Super MC now?” she asks, a little breathlessly.
“You should use one more finger first.”
She arches a brow. “I’m not sticking my whole hand up there.”
I snort. “I’m not asking you to fist yourself, Violet.”
“Fist myself?” She sounds appalled, even disturbed. “I can handle your endless jokes about getting into my Area 51, because apparently it’s the in thing to do these days, but if you start with other weird requests, I will totally revoke the boob sex.”
I try not to smile too wide. “Weirder than you dressing up my dick?”
“That’s cute, not weird,” Violet says.
She’s still got her fingers where I’m going to be soon and her other hand wrapped around my cock. I squeeze my erection to draw her attention there. “Look at the size of your hands compared to mine.”
She glances at our fingers. “Oh, huh… I guess that makes sense.”
I stroke up, sliding my thumb over the head. Violet follows with her own, and I groan. “You know what, you should take over here, and I’ll take you over.”
“Okay.” She eases her fingers out and links them with her other hand, so both surround my cock. Then she shifts around so I have the access I need. It’s a great visual, and it feels fucking awesome with how slick her hand is.
I circle her clit with a knuckle, savoring her quiet whimper, before I push inside.
“Oh, God, Alex. I love your fingers.”
“Does that feel good?” I already know it does, but I also like hearing it, and I need the ego feed.
“So good.” Her grip on me tightens when I add another finger, and she moans. Loudly.
“It’s a little different than your three fingers, isn’t it?”
“Uh-huh.”
Her chest is blotchy—the way it gets when the dirty talk turns her on.
“You want me to make you come?”
“Please.”
I curl my fingers and rub her clit with my thumb. It’s awkward since it’s my left hand instead of my right, but I use more pressure and rub faster, like she did, to see if it works better than my usual method.
She looks down to where my fingers disappear inside her. “Alex, I’m—oh, holy orgasm!”
Violet bows forward as she groans my name. She’s forced to let go of me when she almost topples over on my chest. She braces a hand on either side of my head, shifting her hips as she fucks my hand. Her face is inches from mine. I can feel each hot pant across my lips as she whispers how good I make her feel and how much she loves my hands and wants my cock.
It’s really hot, and for the first time since this stupid fucking accident, I feel legitimately good. I can still take care of my fiancée like I’m supposed to.
She shudders and sucks my bottom lip softly.
“Was that good?”
She makes a sound that’s probably a word, but her tongue is in my mouth so it’s unintelligible.
“What was that?”
She stops kissing me long enough to say, “I wanna fuck you.”
“Well, you should probably get on my cock, then, shouldn’t you?”
“I should. Definitely get on your cock.”
I wait until Violet pushes up and sits on my thighs before I withdraw my fingers. She shimmies up, then rises and grabs hold. She doesn’t sit right down, though. Now that she’s had an orgasm, Violet goes into tease mode. Her head drops, her eyes focused on where she’s rubbing the head of my cock over her clit.
“Hello, Super MC. Are you excited for beaver hugs?” she whispers.
Some of the intensity dissipates. It’s not uncommon for Violet to talk to my dick like it’s going to answer her.
I flex so it kicks in her hand. She jumps and giggles. “Ohh! He’s really excited, isn’t he?”
“It would appear that way. Maybe you should stop with the teasing and give him what he’s looking for.” That I also refer to my dick as a person is probably something most people would suggest therapy for.
Violet takes my comment seriously and shifts her hips forward, lining us up. I tense when she lowers herself, taking in the head, and all the aches in my body flare until I relax again.
“You know…” She stays like that for a few seconds. “If Super MC could breathe, sex would kind of be like breath play, right?”
“What?” I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“You know, those people who like their air supply cut off during sex.”
“I think you need to take a break from some of those smut books you’re reading.”
“It’s Charlene’s fault. She’s the one who keeps recommending them.”
“Can we not talk about Charlene when we’re about to have sex, please?”
“Right. Sorry.” She drops down until her ass rests on my thighs.
I groan and ball my hands into fists—which makes my right shoulder sing with pain—and wait for her to move. I can’t decide whether I like being at her mercy or not. Violet circles her hips, and her soft moans keep me in the present instead of hanging out in my head, feeling sorry for myself. I feel badly that she has to do all the work, but it’s pretty fucking hot watching her.
“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 t
hem.” 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.
We catch them on the stairs. My dad looks like he’s trying to hump her from behind.
“Hey, where are you guys going?”
My mom startles and moves to the next step, away from my dad. “Oh, Alex! I didn’t expect you two to be awake! We were taking your dad’s bag to the room.”
I glance at the front door where my dad’s suitcase sits. “Kinda helps if you take it with you.”
“Oh! Oops! Well, that’s okay. We can do it later.”
My dad doesn’t seem all that excited about doing it later. He looks more annoyed than anything, but he comes back down the stairs, turning on a smile for Violet.
“Hi, sweetheart. How’s your week been? Alex is a mopey shit when he’s not feeling well. I hope he hasn’t been driving you insane.” He pulls her into a hug and shoots a glare at me over her shoulder.
“He’s been good, keeping the moping to a minimum for the most part.”
My mother clears her throat like she’s choking on something. I haven’t been that bad. I don’t think.
He whispers something to Violet, and she chuckles.
I turn my attention back to my mom, who’s come down the stairs to join us. She’s touching her hair, twirling it around her finger like Sunny often does when she’s nervous or thinking. She looks ten years younger.
“Wow, Mom, you look great.”
“Doesn’t she?” My dad checks out my mom the way I do Violet after I’ve been at a series of away games—like I want to get her naked and do dirty things to her. It’s a little weird. They must’ve been on their way upstairs to get their freak on before we stopped them.
My dad hugs me and grumbles something about me being a cockblocker, then slaps me on the back, making me groan. He eases up. “Still pretty sore?”
“It’s getting better.”
He nods and doesn’t push me to say anything else, which is good, because talking about how long it’s going to take to recover from this injury puts me in a bad mood. After the first couple of days I was sure I’d be fine by the end of the month. But
considering the slow progression this week, and the reading I’ve done, I’m starting to come to terms with the fact that I’ll be on the bench quite a while. I can’t even start rehab for at least two more weeks, and that’ll be limited to the recumbent bike and lower body only. Dislocated shoulders are almost as bad as broken bones, and concussions as serious as mine mean a significant recovery period. Next season has never seemed so far away.
My dad and I sit at the island and eat the fruit platter Violet’s preparing while my mom puts fresh bread in the oven to bake. My dad eats the fruit almost as quickly as Violet cuts it up. Everyone should be here soon. Along with Violet’s parents, my sister and Miller, Charlene, Darren, Lily, and Randy are all coming over. Lance might even stop by. I have a newfound respect for him since he was benched for five games after beating the shit out of Cockburn.
On the other hand, I’m feeling ambivalent about Randy’s recent string of goals. The team has won the last two away games, thanks to his superior skills. As good as that is, it’s not so good for my position when I return to the ice. I’ll be at tomorrow’s home game, even though it means warming the bench and watching Ballistic get all my ice time.
Skye and Sidney are the first to arrive, and Skye freaks out about my mom’s hair. It’s weird to see two grown women get that excited about anything, let alone hair, but the attention seems to make my mom happy.
Sid gives me a light back pat while Violet hugs her mom and they talk about how awesome my mom’s hair is.
I’m nervous about our moms being together today, because it’s unlikely they’ll be able to stop themselves from asking Violet about the wedding. She may have mentioned it of her own accord this morning, but I don’t want anyone to push it. Not if I’m finally making headway.
I’ve already asked my mom not to bring it up, because we’ve got enough going on, but that doesn’t mean Skye won’t say something.
“I brought some things!” Skye sets a bag of groceries on the counter. It’s not actually a bag of groceries. It’s orange juice and several bottles of champagne.
Forever PUCKED (Pucked #4) Page 17