Page 15 of Rescued By the Lumberjack
Hopefully leaving my legs bare is all the hint he needs to get him to unwrap me like a package.
Not that my husband needs to be lured into our bedroom-- or my body. Adam's still as attracted to me as he was from the beginning. Our sex life isn't suffering at all.
Deciding on leaving the top few buttons undone for a little extra peek-a-boo of my cleavage, I turn in front of the full length mirror in our bedroom and jut out a hip.
Between a couple of kids and a thriving career as the owner of what remains the only bakery in town, my curves have only gotten curvier. But it's hard to feel self-conscious about it when the sexiest man I've ever met still can't keep his hands off me.
I hear the idle of a diesel work truck pulling into the driveway and a few minutes later I'm waiting at the door when it opens.
My husband walks in, already in his stocking feet and stripped of his cold weather jacket and hat after leaving them along with his boots in the mudroom out front.
I stand innocently just beyond the tiled flooring of the brief entry space and watch his eyes move around the room, takingin the crackling fire already burning in the fireplace, the pan of cinnamon rolls cooling on the counter, me waiting for him in what probably looks like nothing but one of his plaid shirts, unbuttoned almost to my navel and hanging to my knees, as he sets his keys and wallet on the space at the end of the counter where they tend to live.
His eyes land on me and stick there.
His gaze darkens and the corner of his mouth turns up under his thick whiskers.
"Kids gone?"
My mouth waters, watching Adam slowly unbuttoning his own shirt, his eyes traveling over my body as he does.
"For the whole weekend," I confirm with a nod as my eyes remain transfixed on my husband's slow strip tease.
His shirt comes off and then the long sleeved t-shirt he had under it, revealing a chest that's just as broad as it was the first time I saw it, and abs that have only gotten more defined over time.
I lick my lips, as his belt slides through the loops and hits the floor.
While my job keeps adding softness to my curves, Adam's keeps his body toned and strong.
He's just as jacked as he was when we met, with just a smattering of gray beginning to invade his hair, including the soft beard I love feeling against my skin and the trail of fur running over his chest and into the waistband of his jeans.
Watching him pop the button of his jeans and lower the zipper has more than my mouth drooling. When he reaches down and pulls out that thick cock, stroking from root to tip, I have to press my thighs together. If I jam my hand into my panties like I'm aching to do, I'll spoil the surprise.
Adam's jeans hit the floor and he pulls his feet from both them and his socks, leaving him naked, hard, and staring at me hungrily.
"We should take advantage of that, don't you think, wife?"
"My thoughts exactly."
"For a woman who's thinking the same thing I am, you're still wearing a lot of clothes."
Adam stalks forward one step. I match him with a step back, my hands slowly unbuttoning the shirt to reveal the barely-there demi-bra.
My husband catches his first glimpse of it and stops, his eyes widening, his lips parting.
I found out early on that Adam has a thing for naughty underwear, especially when it's hidden under one of his shirts. It's hard to find truly wicked stuff in my size, but then I found a boutique down in Slow River that specializes in plus size lingerie. Now I have a drawer full of lacy, strappy things that guarantee my husband's imagination is always on me.
"Fuck, baby, what'd you find for me this time."
Adam's closed the distance between us, backing me into the center of the living room and making quick work of stripping me down to nothing but the scarlet red set that I had hidden under the flannel.
"You like?"
I preen under his hooded gaze, rolling my shoulders back and jutting out my breasts that are barely contained in a crisscross of satin straps, lace and mesh.
"I like what's underneath it."
Adam's fingers trace down the straps from my shoulders, sending chills over my exposed skin on their way. He traces the edges of what can hardly be considered a bra, thumbing my very hard and very visible nipples through the material before fullypalming both breasts and kneading them firmly as he takes my mouth with his and pulls me to the floor.
