“Where’s my shirt?”
“Here, babe.” You hand him his shirt. “Damn, that was good. I’m gonna go grab something to drink, you want a La Croix?”
“Sounds great,” He says with a smile. You nod and smack his ass and slide out of bed. You go to the kitchen, get a drink, and kick the door to the fridge shut with your foot. When you come back in the bedroom, you pause in the doorframe to appreciate the view. He’s standing there, pantsless, in front of the window. The outline of your hand is clear as day on his peach ass. You grin.
After a moment, he senses your presence and looks over at you with that adorable brown doe eyed gaze. “What?”
“Nothing,” You say. “I just love looking at you a lot.”
“Awww,” he coos. “Thanks babe.”
“I mean seriously.” You hand him the La Croix. “I think you just should stop wearing pants in the house. I’ve never seen your legs and ass look great in any clothing as they do completely bare.”
You’re delighted to see him blush so hard that he forgets how to speak. He just looks at the floor and smiles. You put an arm around his shoulders and kiss his temple. Bare, fucked, marked, and yours. How it should be.

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Captions are fictional.