I woke up trapped in Eric’s embrace and feeling the rise and fall of his chest at my back as he slept soundly behind me. While I wanted to remain there enjoying the comfort only he could give me, unfortunately I could also feel my very angry bladder and it had other ideas on where we needed to be at the moment, so I pulled myself from his grip and headed into the bathroom already having an idea of which one of us would win that pissing contest. Once I was friends with all of my internal organs again I brushed my teeth and couldn’t help but think over everything Eric had told me the night before. I’d never seen him more vulnerable than he had been while telling me his darkest secret and my heart ached for him knowing he’d gone through it all alone. His parents must have had their own demons to have treated him the way they did, but it still didn’t excuse it and I was glad we wouldn’t be seeing his father again any time soon. From what Eric told me about his mother, she could be dead or alive and while I wouldn’t wish death on my worst enemy, I still hoped she never came back into his life.
For the umpteenth time I wondered how Eric had turned out relatively normal and I now saw his earlier asshattery I’d been subjected to when we first met in a whole new light. He’d been used and emotionally abused his entire life and I could only be thankful he saw something in me that let me in. I wished we’d met sooner so I could’ve been there for him when he was bearing the brunt of it all, but all I could do was be there for him now and I made a vow to him that night I would stand by him in the future no matter what.
Unlike our marriage vows and with the absence of Jose Cuervo, it was a promise I wouldn’t forget.
Since I was already up I decided to jump into the shower, having no idea what time the car would be there to take us back home, and had my eyes closed as I began lathering the shampoo into my hair when I felt an extra set of hands massaging my scalp. It wouldn’t have shocked me if Wicked and Immoral had managed to spawn doppelgangers since there was more T-Eric-tory to cover than they could handle by themselves, but the feel of another body part pressed against my back for which I had no matching twin of my own let me know someone else was up besides me.
Or should I say something else was up, alive and well…
My feet automatically took one step back with my hands dropping from my hair, having decided Eric’s ass needed to be massaged more than my scalp, and landed on it with a wet slap. I felt the chuckle rumble through his chest against my back, but his hands never stopped working the shampoo through my hair. When we’d made love the night before, it had been an intense experience with us connecting on a deeper emotional level that literally brought tears to my eyes. It was something we’d both needed at the time, but now I had other needs and from what his body was telling me, he had those same needs as well.
The night before had been emotionally heavy for both of us, but I wanted to bring back Eric’s playful side and in an unnecessary effort to get a rise out of him (if it rose any higher I’d have something else besides his hands massaging my scalp) I wiggled my ass against him saying in my best Bella Lugosi impersonation, “It’s aliiiive…”
Not understanding his part in playing along with my morning insanity, Eric turned our bodies to rinse the shampoo from my hair as he again poked my lower back with his monster and asked, “Hmm?” while working the shampoo from my hair.
The suds slid down my back between our bodies making them all the more slippery and Wicked reinforced her stronghold on his ass while Immoral moved like an unseen ninja grabbing onto the enemy’s sword, firmly stroking up and down, making Eric groan. I renamed her prisoner out loud declaring it, “Frankencock.”
Eric barked out a half laugh half moan as his hands moved down from my hair to my shoulders, massaging them as Wicked and Immoral massaged two different parts of him. He moved our bodies again to the middle of the shower so the spray of water was directed at our bodies and buried his face against my neck asking, “Frankencock?” His hands traveled to my breasts gently kneading the flesh that filled his hands while his hips thrust behind me and said, “Sounds like a cockamamie story to me.”
I clucked my tongue in fake disapproval of his words, but one of his hands wandered down my front and slid in between legs making me momentarily lose my train of thought. His longer arm span made up for the differences in our height with his fingers dancing lightly along my folds before sliding one inside of me, making my head fall back against his chest as my hips bore down on his hand. I somehow managed to keep some semblance of higher brain function saying, “I never run off at the mouth half-cocked. This,” Immoral squeezed gently, “is a monster.”
Our breathing was becoming more labored and the pace of my strokes increased, keeping time with Eric’s thrusting finger, while his lips and teeth chewed a path from my neck to my shoulder and back again. I whimpered out loud in protest when both of his hands disappeared from my body and he grabbed my hands removing them from their preferred perch and placed them on the tiled wall in front of me. My body was bent over in front of him and my insides became giddy hearing the sound of a foil packet being ripped open. Seconds later I felt Eric’s hands grip each side of my hips while Frankencock slid along my folds with the tip teasing against my clit. He continued to slide against me in a tortuously slow rhythm until I was desperate to have him inside of me when he finally asked, “Are you sure about that? It still sounds like a cock and bull story to me.”
In. I needed to have him inside of me and all of the cock talk was only adding fuel to my fire, but no amount of wiggling against him could get him to slide home. Frustrated passed the point of no return I turned my head to look up at him over my shoulder and growled out, “I’m cock-sure. Now fuck me!”
Anyone else might have been frightened seeing Eric’s eyes darken like a mad scientist with his pupils dilating until they were nearly black with lust, but it only made me want to high five myself. Thank God I didn’t because if my hands hadn’t been firmly planted on the wall in front of me I would’ve face planted against the tile when Eric powerfully thrust inside of me to the hilt a second later, making me cry out in victorious relief.
“You… Will… Be… The… Death… Of… Me…” he grunted out, punctuating each word with a thrust of his hips.
“Then I’ll bring you back to life and do it all over again,” I sputtered out, barely gasping enough breath to form the words of my dastardly plan. I would too, already imagining the wires and probes attached to Frankencock while strumming my fingers together in evil anticipation while waiting for lightning to strike and bringing it back to life, like an X-rated remake of the movie ‘Weird Science’.
His one hand stayed on my hip while the other wound its way in front of me, working circles over my clit at a furious pace and rubbing the pornified 80’s movie classic right out of my brain, with the sound of our wet flesh slapping together echoing around us. I was close, so close that the tiled wall in front of me was blurred out by the sparks of light inside of my eyeballs (porn lightning!) and when he yanked my body up by my hair and pinched my clit, while delivering a forceful thrust from behind me I nearly blacked out as I climaxed from the dual sensations of pleasure and pain. The echoes of my shrill scream could still be heard as consciousness slowly returned, but my vision had not, so I shrieked again when I felt my body flying through the air. Cold tiles were suddenly pressed against my back as Eric held me up against the wall and shoved his way back inside of me.
Frankencock was alive and well.
His mouth found my breasts as he continued to pound me into the wall leaving me no choice but to hold on for dear life, with my legs wrapped around his waist and my fingers wound into his hair. I wasn’t waif-like by any means, but Eric seemed to have no problems holding me up and I briefly contemplated sending Tray a gift basket in thanks for making Eric so strong. When that now all too familiar coil began winding tighter down below all thoughts were replaced by nothing more than feelings. The way I felt safe in his arms. The way I felt complete when he was inside of me. The way my heart felt tied to his.
Eric’s mouth enveloped my own and he shifted our bodies so that he was grinding against my clit with every thrust. I whimpered, moaned, and cried into our kiss with every stroke and when he pulled back far enough to look into my eyes, the love and lust clearly shown through and with his forehead pressed against my own he commanded, “Cum for me. Now!” I did as I was ordered.
Explosive is too tame of a word to describe what rocked through our bodies, but it was close enough. We ended up in a tangle of limbs on the shower floor trying to catch our breath while being pelted with water from above. Our wet hair was plastered haphazardly to our heads and Eric had to move a large clump of it from my eyes in order for me to see him as he asked, “That better?” with a sated grin on his lips.
I didn’t know if he was talking about my sight returning or fulfilling his promise of shower sexcapades, but since I could still barely see straight thanks to the lack of oxygen in my brain, I chose to answer the former as I crawled over to him and planted a sloppy kiss, similar to our drunk wedding video, on his lips before admitting truthfully, “Not really.” His perplexed look had me elaborating as seriously as I could, given the circumstances, “Frankencock left me cock-eyed.”
When he cocked his eyebrow at me I lost it and exploded in a fit of giggles, with him laughing just as hard as he wrapped me in his arms until our shared euphoria died down. We eventually got up and cleaned each other under the now tepid water before finally getting ready to leave. The car arrived shortly thereafter and I wandered around the house making sure we hadn’t forgotten anything while Eric brought our bags downstairs. He found me on the balcony and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind as we silently looked out towards the ocean together. I didn’t realize I’d been crying until Eric turned me to face him and wiped the tears from my cheeks looking horrified as he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I whispered, trying to smile. It was true, there really was nothing wrong and I attributed my sudden case of melancholy to Aunt Flo’s impending arrival.
“Then why are you crying?” he asked.
How could I explain it so he would understand? I wanted to stay there where it was just him and I wrapped up in our own little world with no outside intrusions. I wanted to stay in the place where we’d both finally admitted our love for one another, but at the same time I wanted to go back and live in our new reality where we were really a couple, with each of us going about our normal days but safe in the knowledge that we’d come home to each other. I decided to give him the cliff notes version and just said, “They’re happy tears.”
He didn’t appear to like that answer and stared at them as if he was trying to will them back up into my tear ducts with the force of his gaze alone. When his supernatural powers failed him he resorted to manually wiping them away and gruffed out, “I don’t like seeing you cry, happy or not.” I couldn’t stop the giggle before it left my lips making him frown and pout out a, “What? It’s true.”
I snorted saying, “You look like you’ve just been told you’re having dinner with Hannibal Lecter with liver, fava beans and a nice chianti on the menu.”
Eric seemed to relax a little hearing me laugh and smirked in return saying, “I’d rather eat you for dinner,” before swooping down for a searing kiss.
He was quickly turning me into a sex addict with my libido hopping like a jackrabbit on speed, but the thought of the limo driver already waiting for us was enough to make me pull away and say, “We’d better get going.” The return of his pout made me smile and promise, “Later big fella. It’s nowhere near dinner time.” His responding growl and grope didn’t help calm either one of us, but we somehow managed to make our way to the limo and the only reason we didn’t end up continuing our shesexigans was Gran calling my cell phone to see how the photo shoot went having known how nervous I’d been. By the time I’d gotten off of the phone, Eric was busy talking to Pam on his phone and from the sounds of it he was going to have a busy week. From what I could gather from Eric’s side of the conversation they were going to try and double up filming this week since they hadn’t been able to film the week before. I ended up falling asleep curled up against his side, while he and Pam worked on his schedule, and did my best to fill myself with as much of Eric’s presence while I still could.
I woke up to the sound of Eric moaning beside me and a grin instantly formed on my face before my eyes even opened, with Wicked and Immoral taking off towards their treat like Pavlov’s dogs hearing a bell ring. Their path was halted by Eric’s hands clamping down on my wrists and I sat up opening my eyes to see his pained face. His skin was clammy with his hair stuck to his forehead and all of the color had disappeared from his face leaving him looking pale and sickly. My earlier naming of his Frankencock had seemingly backfired on me making his entire body appear almost green and had me repeating his earlier question asking, “What’s wrong?”
He pointed at an empty Styrofoam container lying next to him on the seat that I recognized from the restaurant we’d gone to the night before and said, “I’m thinking that wasn’t any good.”
I didn’t even realize he’d brought them along, nor did I see the logic in eating seafood that had been left sitting out for God only knows how long in the car, but there was nothing to be done for it now. Seeing as how it was empty all I could do was say, “Poor honey,” and pat his arm. He looked awful and I glanced out the window, wondering how long we had until we’d be home, and was surprised to see we were already in Eric’s neighborhood. As soon as the limo pulled up in front of the house Eric bolted from the car with his keys in hand and ran into the house. The driver got out looking as alarmed as I felt, but I muttered a quick, “He doesn’t feel well,” before taking off after him.
Eric had made it as far as the small bathroom off of the kitchen and from the sounds of it his meal was making a reappearance, so I left him alone long enough to thank the driver for bringing our bags into the house. He refused any tip, saying it had already been taken care of, so once he was gone I returned to the kitchen, taking out some crackers and Gatorade for Eric and found him lying on the floor next to the toilet when I opened the bathroom door. After wiping him down with a wet washcloth, I coaxed him up onto his feet and walked him to the bedroom where I stripped him down and made him get into bed before lying down beside him, holding his hand, and watching him until he finally fell asleep.
I spent the rest of the day doing laundry and cleaning the house while running back and forth to keep an eye on Eric. He’d made several trips to the bathroom with what I hoped was only an undiagnosed case of minor food poisoning and stood around feeling helpless knowing there was nothing more I could do for him than to offer him some sips of Gatorade and my sympathy while he rested. I’d never been one to have a weak stomach, but by the end of the night even I was feeling queasy and wondered if maybe it was a stomach bug Eric had instead of food poisoning. The toddler from the restaurant had slobbered all over him and I knew kids were pretty germy, so it stood to reason he might have caught something from her. The last thing I needed was to get sick and have to call out of work again, so as I laid next to Eric in bed that night I fell asleep praying I’d be spared from making my own offering to the porcelain god.