The next morning, conversing at the breakfast table over a cup of coffee and some unburnt toast, Damon and Graham collected that the night before had been a total blur.
“Actually,” Damon yawned. “I do remember, very vividly, that you smashed a bottle on someone’s head.”
“Me?” Graham was stunned.
“Yeah, he was on top of me, punching the crap out of me. I think you saved me, Gra.” Damon was slowly collecting his memories all back, but left out the bit about the man chatting up the brunet.
“I don’t… remember any of it.” Graham said honestly.
“Well I sure do,” Damon said. He leaned over and kissed Gra, grabbing his hips and pulling him up and walking backward, still embraced, to the bedroom.
Graham stopped him. “Wait…” he said, filled to the brim with lust. “I need.. I need to shower, Da…”
Damon let go. “What, you’re just going to turn me on like that, then leave?” then he laughed. “Well.. You do smell a bit nasty.” he said, sticking his face into the crook of Graham’s neck, grinning like a madman. He latched onto Graham’s sides again for one last embrace before their brief intermission.
Graham paused, but then quickly decided it was time to stop standing about in his own filth. He walked down the corridor toward the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He looked down and gazed at his semi. He considered his options. One, he could have a wank right there with the water running overhead, or two, he could tell himself to wait for it, and pretend as though he could until he inevitably gave in.
Graham didn’t resist. He double checked the door then headed inside the shower and pulled the curtain closed. He turned on the shower and waited for the shower head to start pouring out the warm liquid.
In the kitchen, Damon pulled out two bowls and various measuring cups, along with various ingredients. He strolled over to the stove and turned the dial to 180°C, only to scratch his head and turn the dial up another ten degrees. The blond baker began to pour 345 g of flour into a bowl, 5 g of baking soda and 2 g of baking powder into a small bowl and stirred.
Meanwhile, back in the bathroom, Graham, after soaking himself in the hot and steamy shower, reached down. His cock was now at full staff. Left without any proper material to spank the monkey to, the brunet racked his brain for an image suiting of his current rager. All he could think of were Damon’s lips. Oh, how his jaw moved up and down while he sang. He imagined those lips tucked around his own swollen member and began to stroke. With each tug he imagined looking down and seeing the lad sucking him off, adrenaline pushing him faster and faster.
While the sexually frustrated boy took care of his needs in the bathroom, the kitchen was bustling under the hands of Damon, the blue-eyed baker. Finally, it was time for Damon to round the balls of dough off and layer them ever so gently onto the baking sheet, being careful not to flatten them too much. He then picked them up and placed them into the oven, feeling the heat as he stuck his arm in. He retracted it quickly and turned the dial on the timer to exactly 8 and a half minutes. He then turned around and stared down the hallway, wondering when his lover would return.
Graham had been pumping fast. Thinking of his mate only made his cock more sensitive to each pull. He knew he was running out of time before Damon would get suspicious but he was not worried. He knew he would cum very soon and tried desperately to stop himself from screaming with pleasure. He bit his lip, only to realize that at that point he couldn’t help but bite down even harder as he approached his climax. A few strokes later he felt the salty taste of his own blood coming from his lip, as he had bit down too hard, with the pain shooting through him a split second after. At this moment, he fell off the edge. He yowled in pain, but also with lust, as he scrunched his eyes and shot his load. Graham could hear the faint noise of Damon’s chortling laugh coming from the other room. He blushed and cleaned off. He exited the shower and got dressed, and crookedly threw on his glasses in a hurry to cover his tracks with Damon.
“Damon,” he said walking into the kitchen. “I’ve just fallen in the shower and busted my lip. Have we got any bandages?”
Damon grinned. “Are you alright, mate?” he said, reaching up to the cabinet which held their medical supplies. He pulled a bandage out of the box and unwrapped it. He leaned over and stuck it onto his lover’s lip. He then continued and pulled his face next to Graham’s ear and whispered.
“I know what you were doing.” he said softly, retracting a little bit and stroking Graham’s face, looking into his puffy brown eyes. He smiled toothlessly and then got up and walked toward the stove. The timer went off. His cookies had finished baking.
