Recipe for Love: Breakfast in Bed {BoyxBoy} [ON HOLD TEMPORARILY]

Frog in your throat?

Taking care not to launch myself across the room this time, I rolled us both so I was sat astride Stuart. Mentally congratulating myself, I stared into his eyes and grinned.

“My turn!”

I ran my fingers through his hair and pulled his head towards mine, kissing his neck. His scent was intoxicating; a lingering fruitiness, his aftershave and a slight hint of man-smell. Okay, maybe it was sweat, but what do you expect? I’m hot!

 I carefully repositioned myself so I could trail my lips across his chest and tease his niplets (‘tis a word) with my tongue. When a quiet chuckle escaped his lips, I very gently pinched one with my teeth. This elicited a gasp and he arched his back slightly, before placing a finger under my chin and bringing me up to his face again.

Stuart pulled my mouth to his and into a deep kiss, the passion rising. I ran my hand over his chest, across his toned stomach, and began inching down his underwear with my thumb, but he soon took over. To avoid him having to leave the kiss, once they were around his knees, I gripped the waistband between my toes and used my foot to push them down. This seemed to impress him and the kiss was broken by his sweet smile.

“You’ve seen me bend to get to the bottom of the fridge at work. You know I’m flexy!” I laughed.

Scolding myself for mentioning work, now of all times, I decided to turn my attention to the more... prominent issue. I was impressed! Very.

I took him gently into my mouth, running my tongue around the head as he sank deeper into me. As I used one hand to tease his nipples, I tasked my other’s fingertips to gently stroke his thigh. Goosebumps rose on his skin and his breathing faltered a little.

He was strangely sweet to the taste but his aroma was all man, and my head reeled. As I worked him as wholly as I could, with both my mouth and fingers, he tickled my back as I was his leg. I had already previously mentioned that the first man to place his hand on my head whilst I was ‘down there’ would likely be left without his little man.

My next actions, however, were due to be the source of much future mocking. I have a weak gag-reflex, you see, and when I tried taking Stuart in further I made a sound akin to a dying frog. This amused him immensely and he burst into laughter. I, on the other hand, felt my face redden and scowled at him.

“I’m sorry, babe,” he apologised, somewhat sincerely, “but it was kind of funny.”

“Not,” I pouted.

Stuart then realised he had some grovelling to do so he laid me next to him and kissed me. Turning so he was above me, he held me against him and I melted. How could I possibly be mad at him? Still... Milk it!

I whispered into his ear, telling him it would take a lot more than kisses to make it up to me. He reached over me and opened the drawer of the bedside cabinet, removing a bottle of lubricationy goodness.

That works!