Chapter 10 - The Husband I Waited For

This fictional story features only adult characters (18+) and portrays consensual interactions throughout.

Chapter 10: Calvin Klein Confessions (Part 1)

Corey had only been at the gym for maybe fifteen, twenty minutes but I was already thinking about him way too much.

The way his cock had looked before he left… heavy and swinging, that soft pink head shining a little. And the way he’d said it so casually “loaded with days’ worth of baby-making batter”, like he knew I’d be obsessed with the image for the rest of the damn night.

And fuck me, I was.

I rolled over in bed, hard and frustrated, trying to shake the image, but it was pointless. My brain was stuck replaying every second of him stripping down, flexing, showing off. The size of him. The smirk. The weight of that cock between his thighs. The musk.

Ugh.

I got up, desperate to do anything to distract myself. Maybe clean up a little. Reset. But then I saw it; his underwear from earlier. Silver Calvin Kleins, twisted up on the floor where he’d dropped them. I bent down, purely out of habit, to toss them in the laundry basket.

Bad idea.

The second I picked them up, I froze. They were still damp. Warm. The waistband still stretched from hugging those perfect hips. And the cotton; fucking hell, the cotton was soaked in his sweat, musk and scent of his cock.

I didn’t even think. My nose went straight to the pouch. It was like instinct. Like my body needed to do it.

And when I inhaled, it smelled like Corey. All of him. Hot, masculine and testosterone. The scent of his cock and his balls after moving around all day; raw and rich and so him.

I let out a quiet, involuntary moan.

Fuck.

I pressed them harder to my face, dragged the soaked fabric across my upper lip.
I should’ve stopped. But instead, I sat down on the edge of the bed, underwear in hand, and breathed him in again; this time deeper and slower. Like I needed it. Like I was starved for it.

Corey’s voice echoed in my head: "Let people see. My beautiful husband deserves the biggest cock."

Fuck.

I closed my eyes, squeezing the fabric tighter in my fists. My cock throbbed in my underwear , twitching against the waistband like it was begging for attention.

I slid my shorts and underwear down in one quick motion, cock springing up, flushed and desperate. His briefs were still clutched to my face, the pouch lined up perfectly with my nose. I dragged the fabric across my lips, breathing in the sticky, salt-warm scent of him; his cock, his sweat, the heady mix that only came after a long day. My hand wrapped around my shaft, already leaking, and I started stroking my cock slow, eyes fluttering closed as my brain filled with him.

Corey in that underwear.
Corey pulling them down.
Corey grinning as his cock flopped out, thick and swinging, balls tight and full.

I moaned softly, hips twitching. I kept inhaling, deeper now, like I was trying to suck the scent out of the cotton. My thumb teased the head of my cock, spreading the precum, and all I could think about was how good he tasted. Our first night he let me go down on him. The weight of his cock on my tongue, the way he filled my throat, the taste of sweat and skin and him. I stroked faster, panting into his briefs like a feral little freak.

And then, I don’t even know how long it had been, the front door started to open.

Panic surged through me. I yanked the briefs off my face and tossed them somewhere beside the bed. My heart pounded. I didn’t even pull my own underwear back up, I was just laying on the bed, still fully hard, like that somehow looked less suspicious. I wasn’t even doing anything wrong, technically, but it felt… dirty. I’d gotten caught. Red-handed. Jerking off while my husband was away...

Corey walked in just as I lay there, flushed and nake-d, cock stiff and pointing straight up.

And he smirked.

“Aww, baby,” Corey said, stepping into the bedroom, smirk widening as he took in the sight of me...nake-d, hard, flushed, and obviously caught. “Were you missing me that bad?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. In one smooth motion, he yanked his tight gym shirt over his head, his chest still glistening faintly from the workout, pecs pumped, abs tight. Then he pushed his shorts halfway down his thick thighs as he moved toward me standing at the edge of the bed, still smirking. “You look so fuckin’ good jerking off, Liam.”

I tried to sit up, suddenly self-conscious. “I was just— ”

“No no, don’t stop,” Corey cut in, voice low, firm. He knelt slightly, his shorts falling the rest of the way, and he stood fully nake-d now at the edge of the bed. “I love watching you like this. Were you thinking about me?”

I moaned as my hand slid slowly back down my cock, still rock hard from earlier.

“Nah,” I muttered, bratty. “I was just bored. Married a hot guy who’s too busy at the gym showing off his muscles and his big fat boner to remember his needy little husband.”

He let out a breathy laugh. “Aww, poor baby.”

Without warning, Corey gripped under my knees and tugged me closer, pulling my legs up, dragging my hips toward the edge of the bed. Then he flipped me over in one smooth move, his hands firm but playful, settling me on all fours.

“You’ll get it later tonight, Liam,” he murmured, voice deeper now. “Don’t worry. But right now…”

He pushed down gently on my lower back, arching me perfectly. “Kneel, baby. Let me see how that plug’s holding up.”

I obeyed, shifting on my knees, my cock dangling hard beneath me, my ass up and open for him. I could feel the plug still nestled inside me, firm and deep, stretching me just enough to keep me throbbing.

“Fuuuck,” Corey hissed. “Look at that fat fuckin’ jiggly ass.” His left hand stroked his cock lazily while his right reached between my cheeks. His fingers brushed against the base of the plug, and I flinched, gasping as it pressed deeper for a second.

He laughed. “Good boy. It’s still in there.”

A second later, his palm came down in a light, satisfying spank. Smack. I moaned again as he caressed the spot, then slapped my other cheek; this one was firmer, making me twitch. He kept one hand on me, massaging, jiggling my cheeks a little.

Then he leaned over me, breath hot against my shoulder. “This how you treat your sweaty, exhausted husband after a whole workout? Huh?”

He turned me back onto my side and sat down beside me, stroking my thigh like he wasn’t just groping my hole a second ago.

I let out a shaky breath, cheeks flushed. “I don’t mind the sweat, Corey,” I said, looking up at him. “I like it.”

He smiled wide. “Yeah, I bet you do.” Then his smile shifted, just slightly. “Is that why I see my underwear crumpled up on the other side of the bed?”

I froze.

His eyes weren’t on me anymore. They were locked on something past my shoulder.

I turned my head, following his gaze.

Shit.

His silver Calvin Kleins; the sweaty pair I’d been inhaling earlier were lying in a messy heap near the corner of the bed, right where I’d tossed them in a panic seconds before he walked in.

“Were you…”

I sat up fast, my face already heating. “I- uh - it’s not, I wasn’t, I just...” My tongue tripped over itself. I didn’t even know where to look.

Corey slid off the bed, walked around to the side of the bed, and bent down to pick them up. His back muscles flexed as he moved, still pumped from the gym. He held the underwear in one hand, then came back to sit beside me.

Corey looked at the underwear for a second, like he was remembering something, then chuckled. “I thought I threw these near my suitcase.”

He turned to me, smiling softly. “Baby… were you inhaling my underwear?”

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