Blood In My Husband's Boxers Novels & Stories

I couldn't lie and say it was putting me in the mood, because it wasn't. "You holding up okay?" Bahm slows his movements and looks me in the eyes with his glossy and low ones. "My back hurts...a little." "Want to turn around?" "Ok," I tell him and he slowly slide his steel hard member from between my legs. My eyes widened at the color of his phallus! It was RED! "Ew...There's blood on your cock! You put that inside of me like that?" I shriek obliviously and disgusted.

I asked. “Thats none of your business. Don’t come to this floor ever again.” He said harshly. “Okay. You don’t have to be rude about it.” He didn’t say anything else. He walked up to the other door and it scanned his face and he went inside. I noticed that a trail of red liquid followed him while he was going inside. I bent down and touched the liquid with my fingers and smelt it. It was blood. His blood. He looked like he was in pain when speaking and he was limping too. What could have happened?

He fell and I gasped. “Are you okay?” I heard a familiar voice. I got out of that safe room and I saw My husband which looked like someone who's from an army war and who just survived. I ran into his arms unquestionably and he groaned in pain. He had blood on his face.“Come on.” He said. We walked out of the office and I was welcomed by blood across the walls, dead bodies, used bullets, bulletholes. “Fuck.” Jerald mumbled as he touched the wall. Jennifer looked at him with worry in her eyes.

Thick dark red blood began to pool from her side. Garin cried out and tried to staunch the blood with his hands but it seeped between his fingers. He looked up and saw his father, staring down the scope of his gun, a wisp of smoke curling from the barrel.

My own clothes are soaked, my arms aching, but I do not stop. I wrap him in the first robe I find, and then I half drag him out of the bathroom and to our bed. I tuck the sick bucket on the floor beside him, just in case. Then I pull the covers over his still-too-hot body and brush the wet hair from his forehead. Only when he is finally settled do I step back. I stand there in the middle of the room, dripping wet, staring at my husband. I'm in utter disbelief. Before this morning, the sight of vomit, of body fluids, would have disgusted me. I would have gagged and lost my senses.

I picked up two bags, carried them into the vault, and then returned for two more. “Seriously, what’s with your shirt?” he asked. “Trying to encourage all of us to hit the gym?” “Just you.” I placed two more bags inside then returned. “I got blood on my shirt.” “And that bothers you?” I pulled my shirt off my shoulder and held it out to him. “It was white before.” He examined the red blood that had turned the entire shirt the bold color. “How did you manage that? And why are you keeping it?” “Good point.” I tossed it on the ground and kept working. “Some prick crossed me. I took care of it.”

Just anything that will ruin his name is what I'm looking for. I also opened his drawer. I only saw briefs, shorts, boxer shorts. In the last drawer of the dresser was a large box with a red ribbon wrapped around it. I frowned so I opened it. My heart pounded hard when I saw what it contained. "O-Oh my, God," my eyes widened and I gasped. It was a vibrating dildo! Is he gay? My heart beat faster when someone knocked on the door.

The meetings I was rushing out for seem so trivial right now. As we approached the door I felt the hand that I had been clutching unconsciously squeeze mine back. I looked up and saw my mother in-law give me a reassuring smile through the tears that filled her eyes. I nodded my head, bracing myself for this. The door opened and my eye zeroed in on the only bed in the room. The tears I thought were giving me a break came out, I could not control it. I didn't even want to, lying there looking pale with bandage wrapped around his body and wires hooked up to machines was my husband. There was a bandage wrapped around his head, his lip was burst at two places and it was a disturbing color of blue

He let out a low rumble before uttering a number of expletives in a Scottish accent. "Shit," I said to myself as I quickly opened the door once again. "I was under the impression you were leaving by the back door." Blood was dripping from his nose, and I felt my condition rapidly deteriorate. As he got out, he pulled himself up while keeping his head back so the blood wouldn't spill all over himself. I murmured such words while searching through the contents of my purse for a tissue or some other item. "Oh, I don't believe it's good to hold your head back now. It's not suggested," I said. His companion had noticed the blood and given me a box of tissues. I pretended not to notice since I did

What if he was not willing to say anything after all this time I had resulted in torture because I felt it would make his lips to be loose, he could be resistant to that there was a possibility that he would not bend. Well, there was no point in worrying about it outside. I was going inside to see what my men had done. With a heavy grunt, I pushed the door open, revealing the two of them speaking to each other by the window with the blinds closed. In the middle of the cabin was the man that I thought was my husband. He was drenched in blood, his head bent and his hair looked soaked and oily. I hated myself because the first urge I felt when I saw him like this was to help him, to lift his he