Steve Harrington Smut Imagines

When He Adores Your Stretch Marks

Saturday, the most glorious day of the week. Or at least, that was what he thought, as he lazily stretched his weary body. The day meant only one thing, a day off from the trials of life and the opportunity to spend time with you- what could have been more perfect?

Rolling onto his side, the male found himself facing your back, as you slept peacefully, unaware of his adoring gaze.

Your form was still bare from the previous nights activities. Watching your shoulders carefully rise and fall while you remained in your blissful unaware, he took pleasure in that brief moment of calm, simply enjoying your presence.

It had been the first occasion where he had had the opportunity of seeing you so vulnerable, writhing beneath him in uninhibited pleasure. For so long, you had been reluctant to be unclothed before him, as you were extremely self-conscious of your stretchmarks, which spread across your body in various areas, created by a multitude of circumstances but nonetheless, you were ashamed of them.

Thought the male could fathom no reason why you should be, as he positively adored the river of markings. When he had first laid eyes upon them, he had fallen completely in love with the map that decorated your epidermis. Within those silvery stria, was the visual journey of the highs (or lows) of your life. You were the personification of uncharted beauty, which he so desperately wanted to explore.

What could be more poetic than that?

And indeed, he had toured the expanse of your body the previous night, with his gaze...

...with hot, open-mouthed kisses. During your time together, the besotted male's only objective had been to make sure you knew just how magnificent you were to him.

As soon as you had been freed of your clothing, his hands had wasted not a moment in tracing the prominent markings, aching to commit the jagged lines to memory. His fingertips had peregrinated the curvature of your hip, your waist and continued their wandering to the valley of your breasts, where they then followed the striae's path to the top of your arms.

When he had finally pulled his attention away from the enthralling marks, your lover's gaze had met with your own terrified stare, which marred your exquisite facial features. He could see the distress dancing within your eyes. With an immediate resolution, he had cupped your face in his hands and kissed you.

From his lips, words of absolute love and adoration were whispered between you. He declared you to be a Goddess among mere mortals. He implored you to hide your body no longer from him but to love it equally as much as he did.