Roger moaned appreciatively, and he grabbed a hold of Mickey’s hips to brace himself.
Mickey pivoted his hips forward, fucking Roger’s mouth with renewed intent. It would be so easy to come right then, pull out and splash his load all over that pretty face. Roger was taking every rough slam with happy little grunts, and Mickey could see spit running down his chin.
No, not yet.
He didn’t want this to be over yet.
Pulling out again, he gave Roger’s hair a little ruffle. “You did such a good job, I think I’m gonna fuck you.”
“Right here, master?” Roger wiped off his mouth, trying to catch his breath.
“Yeah.” Mickey glanced at the clock on the oven. “Almost time to take off the foil, huh?”
“Yes, master.” Roger didn’t move. “Do you want me to do that now?”
“Yes. Good boy. Thank you for asking.” Mickey watched Roger get some ragged oven mitts on, admiring the curve of his ass when he bent over to retrieve the foil. Once the door was shut and the lasagna was safely resting back in the oven, Mickey crowded behind him and pushed him against the counter. “Bend over.”
“Yes, master.” Roger arched his back, pushing his ass back and stretching out his upper body.
Mickey stroked his flanks, dragging his fingers down to the top of Roger’s hips. He let his cock catch between his cheeks, sliding teasingly as he taunted, “I’m gonna fuck you bare again. Leave you fuckin’ stuffed so you’re good and wet when we sit down to eat.”
“Mmm, master. Fuck. Yes.” Roger tilted his hips, trying to catch Mickey’s cock where he wanted him. “Please. Come on. Give it to me. Please.”
“So impatient.” Mickey grabbed the olive oil again and raised the bottle high, drizzling it down on Roger’s ass crack. He rubbed it down over his hole, stroking his cock with what was left on his hand to get himself slick.
“I can’t help it,” Roger whined. “I love your cock. I love what you fuckin’ do to me. I love how you fuck me, just stick it in—!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Mickey griped shortly, snatching the oven mitt and shoving it into Roger’s mouth. “Fuck, I can’t think when you’re runnin’ your damn yap like that.”
Roger fussed, but at least now it was muffled.
Mickey lined himself up, and he sighed loudly as the thick head of his dick slipped inside Roger’s hole. It was so soft, wet, and seemed to pull him right in. The urge to climax was right there, heat buzzing over his lips and down in his loins, and he glanced at the time on the oven.
Oh, he could do a lot in thirty minutes.
Resolving not to come yet, he fucked Roger hard and fast. With nothing between them, the hot grip of Roger’s hole was exquisite. He pressed Roger’s head into the counter, forcing him to arch his hips more, and he fucked him without mercy.
The oven mitt did little to stifle Roger’s happy cries, and he spread his legs to take Mickey’s cock even deeper than before. He was so willing and responsive, and Mickey didn’t know how he’d denied himself this for so long.
Whenever Mickey felt himself getting too close, he’d slow down to stave off the inevitable and catch his breath. Roger would whine, and Mickey would spank his ass a few good times to silence him. The way Roger would tighten down on his dick when he smacked him was incredible, and it made Mickey groan out loud.
Fuck, how could a person feel this perfect?
As the timer wound down, Mickey went for broke. He ruthlessly slammed his cock into Roger’s ass over and over until he was screaming through the oven mitt, and the pressure was dizzying. It was twisting up in his balls as heat flashed over his neck and face, and he let himself go.
His cock throbbed, and he grunted as he came, pushing in as deeply as he could. He held himself there, groaning appreciatively as Roger clenched around him. Fuck, it felt like Roger’s body was trying to suck him right in, and Mickey gave Roger one last slam just as the timer went off.
“Better get that.” Mickey pulled out, and he spread Roger’s cheeks to watch a dribble of cum leak out. He pushed his thumb back inside, enjoying how silky and soft Roger’s hole was now. He stuck his other thumb in and pulled, enjoying how easily he could stretch Roger open. “Mmm, fuck.”
“Master, I need… mmm, come on.” Roger had taken the oven mitt out of his mouth. “I gotta get the lasagna. Please.”
Mickey didn’t want to burn the food, so he let go and took a step back. He tucked his cock away, watching Roger move on shaking legs to retrieve the pan from the oven. “Smells good.”
“I hope it’s good.” Roger set it down on the stove and took off the mitts, turning off the timer and the oven. He turned to face Mickey and stroked himself. He’d gone soft but was quickly getting hard again. “Fuck, I can still feel you…”
“Not yet,” Mickey warned, reaching down to stop Roger’s hand. “I didn’t say you could fuckin’ come.”
Roger looked frantic, and he whimpered. “Oh, come on. I was good, wasn’t I? I was so fuckin’ good, I was perfect!”
