“You’re kidding me, right?” Jack Stevens stared at his lover in horror. “You want me to make you strawberry shortcake for your birthday? You know I can’t cook to save my life–from personal experience. Beans and hotdogs are one thing but…”
“I always had one growing up…well at least until I was ten. Mom would make it. I can even give you her recipe–and you don’t have to do it alone. I’ll help!” Casey gazed up at him from the sofa, his eyes wide and pleading and damn if Jack could ever deny him anything when he looked like that.
Jack sighed. “Well…”
“I love you!” Casey bounded off the sofa and wrapped himself around his lover. “And besides, if the cake part doesn’t work out, there’s still a lot of fun you can have with the whipped cream–and the strawberries.” He kissed Jack, his tongue snaking between his lover’s lips to slide across Jack’s.
“Oh yeah?” Jack was all interest now as he let his hands wander over Casey’s body, slipping under the cotton t-shirt to find warm, smooth skin. He slid them higher, pushing the shirt up and Casey helped him to slip it off, over his head. “Why don’t we go whip the cream at least, for starters?” His voice dropped to a husky purr and Casey shivered in his arms.
“Maybe we should make extra, you know, just in case?”
“In case what?”
“We might spill some,” Casey said with a wink as he pulled away, grabbing Jack’s hand and pulling him towards the kitchen. “Cream is easy to spill, don’t you know?”
“Uh-huh.” Jack allowed himself to be led, his mind already occupied with ways to spill cream. He licked his lips. Maybe strawberry shortcake wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.
“You have to keep beating it till it’s stiff,” Casey said, leaning over Jack’s shoulder to watch the beaters whisking the thick white cream in the bowl.
“I do that a lot,” Jack said, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. “Never heard you complaining about my technique.”
“Yeah, but be careful. If you beat it too much, it’ll turn to butter,” Casey warned, “just the way you do,” he added with a chuckle and dodged when Jack flicked a spatula he’d been using to scrape cream off the sides of the bowl at him. “Hey, watch where you point that thing!”
Jack turned to grab Casey, licking flecks of cream off his lover’s face. “You taste good, cupcake!”
“What did you call me?” Casey scowled at him. “I am not a cupcake!”
“Uh-huh,” Jack’s tongue lapped Casey’s cheek. “Whatever you say, Sugar pie!”
“You’re such a clown!” Casey reached around his lover, dipping his fingers into the cream and smeared it across Jack’s face. “Need a red nose though.” He smooshed a strawberry against the feature in question and then bolted, yelping, as Jack came after him with a handful of cream.
“Come back here, you!” Jack yelled. “I’ll give you clown!”
“No! No!” Casey darted into the living room trying to hide behind furniture. “No throwing food in carpeted areas. House rules!”
“Oh no, you don’t get off that easy,” Jack said. He stalked his lover around the armchair, pouncing when Casey tried to dart past him, back to the kitchen. They tumbled onto the leather sofa, cream and fragments of strawberry flurrying around them.
“Oh? I thought I was pretty easy to get off,” Casey said. “Especially when it’s you doing the honors.” He slid a hand down along Jack’s flank, working it under the waistband of his lover’s jeans before he closed his fingers around the stirring cock he found. “Ohh, commando?” he purred.
“Well, I didn’t get time for gift wrapping,” Jack said. Closing his eyes, he moaned, rocking his hips forward into Casey’s touch.
“It’s a waste of time anyway. It only gets ripped off and thrown away.” Casey licked cream and fragments of strawberry from his lover’s skin as he stroked Jack slowly. “So what else did you have planned for my birthday?”
“Hmmm, I was thinkin’ maybe, cake, candles, bubbly, and a stripper-gram,” Jack replied and then groaned when Casey swept his thumb across the tip of his cock. “Jesus, baby…it’s s’posed to be your party,” he gasped.
“Yeah?” Casey said. “What’s the problem? Isn’t a party all about having a good time?”
“Uh! Uh-huh!” Jack bit his lip, eyes closed.
“And you don’t think I’m having a good time, is that it?” Casey gently squeezed the rock hard organ in his hand. “You don’t think that my idea of a good time, is watching you get off.”
“Well…if y’put it like that…” Jack groaned helplessly. “But what about…”
“Cake, candles, bubbly and a stripper-gram?” Casey grinned. “Oh yeah, they’re on my list, but I’m happy to wait for them till later.” He reached up with his free hand, pulling Jack’s head down so he could kiss him, tasting strawberries and cream, and Jack, all mixed together. “Right now, I’m just havin’ myself a ball,” he murmured against Jack’s mouth.
(C) 2008 Meg Leigh