Chapter Eleven
Vaughn
My late partner and I did not bake cookies—or at least nothing that required much decorating.
It wasn’t his thing, which was partly why we were buying them for Santa.
We sometimes made Tollhouse or those three-ingredient peanut butter cookies.
Once or twice oatmeal craisin. And at the little Christmas parties, we avoided the cookie-decorating tables.
It just wasn’t Bron’s thing, and since my job was to support his choices, I didn’t give it much thought beyond following him to one of the many other fun things to do.
But when I decorated cookies with Gunnar, it was a revelation. How much fun it could be and what artistry he had. Oh, not “bakery quality,” or anything silly like that. Just delicious and beautiful cookies that reflected his personality. And it was so much fun!
A couple of days later, he came over for dinner, but he barely made it in the door before we were kissing, and dinner was going to have to wait.
“This is even better than cookies,” Gunnar said, tilting his head down as I trailed kisses down his spine.
Undressing him was like unwrapping a gift.
I’d seen him in his little clothes that didn’t conceal much, but I didn’t look at him the same way in that situation.
Impossible to explain to someone outside the lifestyle, but it made perfect sense to me and my daddy/little friends.
Mommies, too. We were all a little different from one another, but we got it.
Gunnar was all big right now, not even on the line as he sometimes was when we were hanging out and just talking.
He arched his back, inviting me to kiss him more, to caress and stroke and massage him.
Turning him to face me, I continued, helping him out of his pants and tight boxer briefs.
The light from the bathroom was enough to see the smooth, even texture of his skin, and everything else.
“When do you find time to work out?”
He grinned. “Not as often as I’d like, but once or twice a week before work, I spend an hour or two in the building gym.”
“There’s a gym? You mean at the building we both work in?”
His chuckle was about as sexy as anything I’d ever heard. “Yes. Top floor. View of the entire city. Sunrise is stunning from up there.”
“Who knew? I go from the lobby to my office and back again. Maybe I need to explore more.” I bent and lapped at one of his nipples. “I think I’ll start here.”
His moan told me I was on the right path. Sensitive nipples. Noted. And not being one to miss an opportunity, I stayed there, licking and nibbling until he grabbed me by the ears, trembling. “Vaughn, I can’t…I can’t take it.”
Lifting my face, I met his gaze. “Can’t take it good or bad?”
“Way too good.”
Straightening, I took his hand and guided him to sit on the side of the bed. “Wait for me.”
“Where would I go?” He leaned back, resting on his elbows. “I’m hoping you’re about to give me a striptease.”
“You are, huh?” I pulled my shirt over my head and met his gaze again. “We’ll have to put that off for another day because I am too hard to fool around.” Quickly dispensing with my clothing, I knelt in front of him. “I’m too busy exploring.”
Hi cock bobbed in front of my lips, and I licked them before licking him and closing my lips around his head.
Gunnar flopped the rest of the way back to lie with his arms over his head, hips rocking.
He arched his back, and I took him deeper, tickling the back of my throat.
There was nothing little about this part of him.
Holding a tight suction, I moved my head up and down, licking circles around him and cupping his balls in my palm.
Gunnar didn’t need words to show me what he liked.
He was shuddering head to toe, whimpering, and fisting the bedding.
Gliding my fingers back, I found his hole and circled it, teasing with a fingertip, and he let out a strangled cry and spilled down my throat.
Giving him pleasure had me so hot, as soon as he relaxed, I climbed onto the bed next to him and kissed him hard while retrieving a tube of lube from my bedside drawer.
As aroused as I was, I didn’t want to hurt him, so I took the time to coat my cock thoroughly before turning my attention to preparing his hole.
Fingering him, just that little bit before told me he was tight, and I needed to be cautious.
Go slow. Make sure it was as good for him as me.
“That was amazing,” he said, eyes closed, chest still heaving. “And that feels incredible.” The second “that” involved my fingers working his tight hole, tips inserting then retreating, slippery lube helping but not rushing, helping more.
Until Gunnar half sat up and closed his fist around my cock. “In me. Now.”
Bossy little thing.
But I didn’t have to be told twice. I’d managed to work three fingers in and so I eased them out and replaced them with the swollen, aching head of my cock.
Poised there, he caught me off guard when his hips rocked up, hard, and I drove in deeper, faster than I intended.
But his cry was not of pain, and his gasp nothing but encouragement, so I stopped holding back and thrust into him again and again.
He was still tight, but his body caressed me, muscles milking me until I could hold out no longer and with a growl, came inside him, cum splashing his walls. Marking him mine.
As I propped myself on my forearms to keep from putting all my weight on him, he reached for me and pulled me down. “You’re not too heavy,” he mumbled. “I want all of you to touch all of me.”
I couldn’t have said it better myself.