Notes:- Since the last couple of stories I've posted have been on the depressing, doom and death side, I've decided to go for something a little sillier and lighter! Enjoy!
Shampoo
Man I'm tired.
It's all I seem to be these days. Tired. Ever since I started working at the White House. It doesn't help that I spend most of my days in the service of one of the most spoilt teenage girls I've ever had the misfortune to meet. But, unfortunately, its her Daddy who pays my wages so I'm in no position to complain. I stretch and yawn in my leather recliner. What I'd really like right now is some nachos and a back rub.
"Chris"? I give him a nudge with my big toe. He's sitting on the floor close by, his back resting against the front of the sofa. He's playing on his SNES and the wire of the control pad doesn't stretch far enough for him to sit on our comfortable sofa. He seems happy enough though. His face is set with concentration. "Chris"?
"What"? He sighs heavily but he eyes don't leave the screen. His fingers move across the buttons of the control pad with the speed and the precision of someone who's dedicated his teenage years to gaming. "Can't you see I'm busy"?
I guess I should explain here. He doesn't mean to be a total arse. He just really gets into it when he's playing games.
"Will you give me a backrub"? I ask. It just so happens that Chris is a dab hand at giving massages. One back rub from him and you'll do anything he asks you to. I think that's probably why he's usually so keen to give me one. He fervently insists on it normally.
"Later" He says dismissively. "Aw crap"! He hits his control pad in frustration and actually turns around to look at me. "Look what you made me do"! He continues accusingly. "I just died"!
"I'm sure it's not the end of the world" I shrug. Perhaps now I'll get that backrub. But he shakes his head, picks up his controller and starts bashing away at the buttons once more. Guess he had more than one life left. "Are you still playing The Mario 3 or whatever it is"?
"It's Super Mario Brothers 3," Chris answers condescendingly. "God, don't you know anything? This is a gaming classic"!
"Well I'm sorry" I reply haughtily. "I didn't really spend my teenage years in front of the TV. I spent it sleeping with girls," I add smugly. Chris pauses his game and turns round to look at me, an impish smile on his face.
"Well that really worked out for you didn't it"? He teases. "At least I still play games"!
"You suck" I reply lazily. Yeah, it's immature but I really don't have the mental capacity to think of some witty rejoinder.
"And that's exactly why you love me Agent Honeybunch"! He gives me one of his best sleazy winks and turns his attentions back to his game.
I sigh and haul myself out of the recliner. It's obvious that I'm not going to get that backrub any time soon so I might as well console myself with a nice hot shower.
And that's where my second Chris-related annoyance hits me. He's gone and used up all of my shampoo.
"You've used my shampoo you selfish oaf"! I shout through to him. I wonder if he can hear me over the jolly music of the Mario world. I wait for a few seconds and then give up.
"Yours is better than mine"! He shouts back after a while.
I ponder what the hell that's supposed to mean as I pad over to the bathroom cabinet and start to search amongst the general junk for another bottle of shampoo. Maybe he means mine smells better than his? He uses that anti-dandruff stuff that smells sort of medicinal where I like to favour the fruity sort that leaves your hair not only soft, but smelling nice. Back at the office my hair is sort of a running joke. I'm often asked how I keep it looking so lovely all the time. It's simple. I use fruity shampoo with built in conditioner. That is, obviously, when my oaf of a boyfriend doesn't get to it first.
Rummaging through the bathroom cabinet, I come across all sorts of crap. We're not an intentionally messy couple, it's just we both have jobs that keep us busy and stuff like what's lurking in the bathroom cabinet tends to fall by the wayside.
For someone who claims to not really care about personal grooming, there are an awful lot of creams, sprays and shampoo bottles in here. Some of them are way past their use by dates and others are things that neither of us would possibly want. I mean, do we really look like guys who would use floral scented shampoo with essence of something-else-insufferably-girly?
Eventually, I find some strawberry scented shampoo right at the back. If I remember rightly, it was a Christmas present from Jill ages ago. It came with matching conditioner and a soap but both of them seem to have disappeared. I pop open the cap and give it a sniff. It's a little too sweet and fruity for my liking but it'll have to do. No way am I smelling like some old lady's rose garden.
I turn the shower on and step under its water. I let out a happy sigh as the mixture of heat and water pressure starts to soothe my aching muscles. If I can't have my back rub then this is definitely the next best thing. As I lather up my hair with the strawberry make-do-shampoo, I briefly consider if making Chris eat the floral scented shampoo would be a suitable punishment for using my shampoo and a suitable deterrent to stop him doing it again. I wonder if it would taste like eating flowers or more like eating soap? Would it be toxic? I don't really fancy the idea of rose scented puke dotting the bathroom floor. Perhaps making Chris eat shampoo isn't the best form of revenge…
"I died again" Chris' voice in the sudden silence makes me jump and I almost slip in the wet shower stall. A pair of arms wrap around my waist, holding me steady. Chris presses up against me as he closes the shower stall door. "I couldn't concentrate properly" He adds, his lips against my wet shoulder. "I felt bad for ignoring you"
Chris is damn annoying sometimes but when he starts to kiss the back of my neck, his body pressing into mine, I forget all about Mario and empty shampoo bottles.
"Chris…" I try for annoyance but it's really hard when you're suddenly as horny as hell and you've got a hot guy massaging your hips suggestively. "I'm supposed to be washing my hair here…"
"Let me help you" He whispers in my ear. His voice deep with lust. His hands release my hips and reach round for the shampoo bottle. I hear him squirt some into his hand and then they're in my hair, working it into a sumptuous lather. I close my eyes at this new sensation and wonder why the hell we haven't done this before.
Once he's finished with my hair, his hands start to move, over my shoulders, down my chest, soaping up my stomach, my hips and then lower…he kisses me again and again on the back on my neck. It's always been my weak spot, the back of my neck. He learnt this early on in our relationship and loves to use it to his advantage, not that I'm complaining.
His talented hands stroke faster and faster and I press back into his embrace. I can feel the smug bastard smirking against my shoulder but right now, I really don't care. All I care about is the movement of his hands, slick with soap and water and moving in a way that's so good it should be fucking criminal.
It doesn't take me long to come and it's a strong one, straight into his left hand. He raises it under the shower head to wash it away, laughing when the water sprays my face. I turn around in his arms and just as I expected, he's wearing that 'yes ladies and gentleman, I am that awesome!' grin.
"Bet you're glad you didn't get your backrub now" He says smugly. "My lovely Agent Honeybunch" He kisses my nose because he knows it annoys me and steps out of the shower stall.
"Go fuck yourself"! I say bitterly because I really hate it when he wins.
"My my Agent HB, aren't we ungrateful"? He says teasingly as he starts to towel himself dry. "Maybe next time this situation arises, I won't bother! How do you like them apples"?
"It's those apples you uneducated oaf and you said that last time you did this"! I point out. It's my turn to grin now. "And the time before that and, oh yes! The time before that as well"!
He pulls a face at me and disappears from the bathroom. I make sure all the shampoo is rinsed from my hair and step out of the shower stall. I towel myself dry and then wrap a fresh towel around my waist as I wander back into the lounge. Once again, Chris is sitting on the floor in front of the games console, only this time he's neglected to put his clothes back on. I admire his ass and his hard worked for muscles for a few seconds before sitting back down in my recliner.
"Chris"? I nudge him with my big toe. "Chris? Will you fix me some nachos"?
"Can't you see I'm busy"?
Oh well. I'll get him back when I'm not so tired. Maybe the next time he takes a shower…
THE END.
