Focus, Denial and Whipped Cream

He kisses me again then moves to his knees, unbuttoning his jeans. "I thought this was about your ass."

I lean over to help. "Are you in some kind of hurry? We'll get there. We can use whipped cream as lube."

He blinks. "There's something deeply wrong with that."

I push him down on his back and yank off his pants. "Mm, briefs."

"I don't like the look in your eyes."

"What?" I grin, kissing him. "My Tybalt's cute little tighty-whities?" I pull back the elastic of said article of clothing and snap it.

He yelps, smacking me. "Hey!"

I laugh and take another kiss, drawing his underdrawers from him and stroking my hand up his length, admiring him.

"Yeah, we need whipped cream," I say, getting up suddenly.

He's cut off mid-moan. "What?" He chases me into the kitchen. "You're a horrible tease."

I dig through the refrigerator, pulling out a large glass bowl of whipped cream and setting it on the counter. "We can go back in there and I'll give you wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am sex, if you'd prefer."

His face darkens a bit. "I'll take the teasing. That wasn't funny."

I hesitate, knowing an apology is in order but not liking it. "It was just a joke."

"Wham-bam-cheap-fuck-sex, you meant?"

I trail a finger through the whipped cream, avoidant. "Not cheap fuck," I growl, and then look up, meeting his eyes and daring him to challenge it. "Boyfriend. Mine."

His lips are on mine again. I pull him close, smearing whipped cream across his shoulder, and this kiss is like our entire acquaintance: rough, hot, tense. His tongue darts into my mouth, dueling me for dominance. We fight with our tongues, griding our hips together roughly, pressed painfully close so that the kiss is bruising with frantic, passionate need. We break the kiss and just hold each other, clinging, so tight it hurts.

"Damn you," he whispers.

We kiss again, briefly, making up for the bruises, making up for years of verbal and physical abuse we'd lashed on each other. When it breaks off, I nuzzle the side of his nose, grinning. "Whipped cream?"

He looks over his shoulder. "I think you got some on me."

"Yes." I lean around him, licking the cream off of his shoulder blade. "Mm. Tasty. Tybalt-flavored."

He smirks, leaning on the counter by the bowl and dipping his finger into the cream, holding it up for me. "Tybalt-flavored?"

"My favorite." I suck his finger into my mouth, licking it clean. After which I stop, blinking, and have to try the whipped cream off my own finger. "No, it's not just you. This is really good."

"It's not just me?"

I try another fingerful. "I thought it might just taste that good because it was on you. Where did you get this stuff?"

"I made it." He laughs, holding up another finger for me. "Can we focus?"

"You can make whipped cream?"

"Heavy cream, a blender, and sweetener. I use maple syrup." He drags the finger down his chest, leaving a dripping white trail. "Focus?"

"Focusing," I grin, pressing my lips to his chest and licking him clean. He repeats the process, dabbing cream onto each of his nipples and grinning at me expectantly. I wrap an arm around his waist, sucking the cream off, dragging the flat of my tongue over the tender pink nubs. He whimpers, tangling his fingers into my hair, and I extract another whimper by grazing my teeth across one of them.

"Mark," he pants.

I look up at him with a questioning grin. He dips two fingers into the cream and smears it in a ring around the head of his cock, then licks his own fingers clean. I watch the movement of his tongue and lips on his fingers for a moment before imitating the action with my own lips and tongue, slowly working him farther in until I can deepthroat the whole thing, reaching under him to roll his balls gently across my fingers. He groans. "Oh, fuck, Mark, that's good."

I pull back, teasingly nuzzling the side of his prick, licking my way back up to the head. I play my tongue just along the underside, until he mews and pulls me away. I grin at him. "Yes?"

"Bend over the table," he says, panting. "That ass is mine."

That gets me off my knees fast. I kiss him quickly before bending over the table, curling my fingers over the edge to hold on and grinning back at him.

He laughs, picking up the bowl of cream and setting it down next to me. "Eager, much?"

"Yes, please, Tybaltcock, please."

He leans over to kiss my cheek, laughing. "My turn to play."

Scooping up some of the cream, he lets it drip down my spine, forming a little puddle in the small of my back. He leans over me, humping his erection into the crease of my ass lazily as he laps up the cream. A few melting droplets he lets escape, to glide around the curve of my ribs so that it tickles, and I fight the urge to squirm as he licks them away.

When he's tortured there long enough, he takes another scoop, dropping this at the top of my ass and letting it drool slowly into my crack.

"Mm!" I twitch, holding tighter to the table, struggling to stay still. I hear him laugh, guiding it down and using it to glide a finger inside me, wiggling it around. I push back against him. "Do it."

"You sure?" he asks, stretching me with a quick scissoring of his fingers.

"Would 'oh please fuck me Tybs I need it need you want it hard' be more convincing? Do it."

"It might." He guides his member to my entrance, pressing inwards. I squirm back against him so that the head pops inside, making us both gasp. "Like that?" He leans over me to drive it deeper, working it in patiently so I can adjust. I don't have that kind of patience for my ass, so I push back, taking him to the hilt. I hear my name pass his lips. He seems to have gotten the message by now, that I don't need him to be gentle. He pulls out and sinks back in with long, deep thrusts.

"Harder," I beg, and he gives it to me.

I reach one of my hands down, quickly yanking myself off as he sinks himself into me again and again. I can tell he's not going to last long at this. He gives a cry, sheathing himself in me as he comes, filling me deep, and I'm glad I've never done this without a condom before, because I'm glad I can give this to him, glad that it's Tybalt alone who can fill me this intimately, the way I want to be claimed. He falls across me, while his cock is still spasming inside me, whispering roughly in my ear one word: "Mine."

I cry out and come with that one word, milking the end of his orgasm with mine. He starts to laugh, softly, when we're both done, and I laugh with him, happy, turning my head to kiss him.

"Shower?" he asks, clear that said shower is more for extended play than it is to get clean.

"Can we bring the whipped cream?" I ask.

"No." He's laughing, getting off me and taking the bowl. "Whipped cream in the shower?"

"It could work. Maybe."

"We'll save it for later."

I stretch, watching his ass as he bends over the refrigerator to put it away.

"See you in the shower," I say, spanking his ass once as I go by.

He doesn't need to be told twice.