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Van steps between my legs again. He cups my cheeks and presses his lips to mine. I can taste myself on him and I’m not the slightest bit bothered by it. His fingers thread through my hair at the back of my head while his other hand travels between us. Without missing a beat, he’s undoing the button on his pants and shoving them down. He grips his cock, the head sliding through my wetness starting at my clit and moving down. Then he repeats the process, using my arousal as lube. When he’s at my opening, he pushes in, stretching me. I break our kiss and throw my head back, savoring every delicious inch of him entering me.
“Fucking hell. Your pussy clenching around me…amazing.” Van pulls all the way out and slides back in. Once he’s fully seated, he stops. “Shit. I don’t have a condom.”
I lower my head until our foreheads touch. “I’m on the pill.”
Without another word, he presses his lips to mine in a bruising kiss while he pulls out and thrusts back in. His hips piston in and out. My fingers grip his hair and hold on as he pounds into me. With each thrust, he drives deeper and deeper. He pulls away from our kiss and drops his head to my shoulder. He brings a hand between us and circles my clit. The double stimulation drives me over the edge once again. His mouth comes back to mine and swallows my moans. His hips continue to jack hammer in and out of me. The slapping of our bodies, mixed with our moans and grunts, fills the kitchen. After a few more thrusts, his hips jerk as his hot seed spills inside of me. Eventually, his movements slow until he comes to a stop.
“That was…fuck. Amazing.” His breathing labored as he snuggles into the crook of my neck.
“It was.” He places a soft kiss on my collarbone and then another at the hollow of my throat. I tilt my head to give him better access. “If you keep that up, we’ll need a round two.”
His warm breath skates across my heated skin as he laughs. “I have no issues giving you what you want.” He pulls out of me, and I can’t help the small whimper that escapes from the loss of him.
“Looks like we have a new mess to clean up.”
THIRTEEN
PENIS CUPCAKES
Van
“Dammit.” I toss the hockey puck, also known as a cupcake, onto the worktable. “What the hell did I do wrong this time?”
A few days after the birthday party and hot bakery sex with Hollyn, I decided to attempt this baking thing alone. Mostly, I want to do it to impress her. Show her I can actually do this.
All morning I’ve been trying to bake cupcakes and with each and every batch something goes wrong. The first batch, I filled the liners too full and when they rose, they spilled together and formed a dick and balls. It’s pretty badass if I wanted to make a dick and balls. I save it for Hollyn, anyway. And now the new batch, they are so hard I could use them as a deadly weapon.
I rest my palms on the table and stare at the mess in front of me. Something’s gone wrong, but what? Exhaling a sigh, I reach for the large garbage can and with a sweeping motion I dump all the bad cupcakes inside. A cupcake will not defeat me.
Once again, I set up all my ingredients and read over the recipe one more time. I’ve read this card so many times, I’m surprised I don’t have it memorized yet. Carefully, I measure out the dry ingredients and dump them into a bowl. I do the same with all the wet ingredients and pour them into a separate bowl. Then I mix the two. Gently, I scoop the batter into the cupcake liners and place them in the pre-heated oven. I set the timer and stare through the oven window, willing the cupcakes to turn out this time.
When the timer dings, I open the oven door. They look like cupcakes. With oven mitt covered hands, I lift the pan up to my nose and take a whiff. They smell like cupcakes. I set the pan down on the table and stare at the lightly browned cakes. I puff my chest out. I might have successfully made my first batch. Growing impatient, I pluck one from the tin. Steam rises from the still hot cupcake as I toss it back and forth in my hands, trying not to burn myself. Once it’s cool enough, I peel the wrapper down and take a big bite. As soon as the fluffy cake hits my taste buds, I chew once, twice, and wet bits of cake tumble out of my mouth as I spit it out. Why the fuck is it so salty? When I glance at the table, the teaspoon is sitting next to the sugar, and the tablespoon is next to the salt. Fuck. There’s the issue. I can’t do this. I need Hollyn.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I scroll until I find Hollyn’s number and hit call. After a few rings, it goes to voicemail. I hang up and send her a text.
Van
Where are you? I need you. I may have made a penis cupcake.
Just kidding. I did. It’s for you.
But seriously, I need your help. Everything I’ve made has turned to shit.
I set my phone down on the table and stare at it like I did the cupcakes, willing her to answer. When several minutes pass with no reply, I clean up my mess. I’m not attempting another batch. The cupcakes may have won this battle, but I will win the war. My phone buzzes with an incoming message.
Hollyn
Are you at the bakery?
Van
I am, but I’m done. A man can only take so much failure. What are you doing?
Hollyn
Oh no. You’ll have to tell me about it. I’m lying in bed.
Van
