Page 43 of Baking Battles

“What do you use for wanking?”

“My hand?”

“Oh, sweetheart. Just lie here, don’t move. I have supplies in my bag.”

Mattias wants to scream “NO! Fuck the supplies. Who the hell needs supplies?”

Then he moans and whines with relief when Christopher returns with something in his hand, kneels on the bed and wedges himself down between Mattias’s legs. Mattias who has clearly lost the plot, stark naked on the bed with his cock in the air and his legs bending up like he wants this. Like his body was just made for this. Needs this.

“Want you.” He moans.

“You will have me. I just have to get you ready.”

There is the flick of a cap. The wrapper of a condom being torn and laid out next to him on the bed. Soft words of comfort being heard from down between his legs as he raises his hips, then Christopher pushes his legs up in the air, exposing him totally.

It’s horribly awkward. Being exposed. Raw. Showing this side of himself, lying here naked with his arse on display, but Christopher just smiles at him and tells him that he is beautiful.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“You look terrified. Do you want me to stop?”

“NO!!”

“Do you need a few seconds? A minute to breathe?”

Mattias’s head is shaking so fast it almost gives him a headache.

“Need this.” It’s all his mouth manages to grit out.

“Okay.” Christopher says, letting his body cover Mattias’s, his mouth kissing any doubts in his head away. Because somehow, when Christopher’s mouth is on his, when he has his nose squashed into the cheek of this ridiculous man, somehow he is calm. He’s better than good. Somehow this is amazing. Safe. Thrilling. Awkward. Funny. Ridiculous. Embarrassing. All twisted into one.

“The lube should be self-warming, but it might feel a little cold on your skin.”

There he goes again, his arse up in the air and his hands holding his knees up so his hole is exposed, as Christopher drizzles what he assumes is lube over his opening.

Things Mattias Strømme thought he would never do. Part one. Scrap that. Apparently, this is something he’s doing. And Christopher’s finger circling his hole is making his mouth sound out random syllables again, making his muscles clench around Christopher’s finger as he presses gently against the opening where no man’s hand should go.Except Christopher’s. Because Christopher is making it amazing. Softly pushing and shushing and telling him to just relax and trust him.

He loses track of time, lying there just letting his body feel. The strange sensation of Christopher’s finger pushing against his muscle’s instinct to reject the intrusion into his body. He can’t describe it in his head. Just that once he relaxes it feels good. It feels amazing. Intimate. Strange.

His feet are tingling from lack of blood. His arms spasming with the effort of holding his legs up in the air. His mouth spilling soft happy little sounds, and there is sweat trickling down his forehead.

“So beautiful. I love you so much. You are amazing. Gorgeous. So sexy. I am so fucking hard right now, and once I get one little push inside you, I will just die from coming. Right there.”

Mattias wants to say, me too. Me too, Christopher. I am about to die, because my cock is about to explode and my brain is fried, and I am so fucking gay it’s not funny anymore, because I kind of think I love this.

It all translates into some animalistic cry from Mattias’s throat as Christopher touches something deep inside of him, and Mattias sees stars. Well that’s a lie. Lots of stars. Lights and darkness and his leg kicks out into thin air, and Christopher does it again and Mattias is sure he is laughing at him, lying here helpless in the throes of his impending death by gay sex. Because it’s coming. He won’t survive this. Not only is his brain about to shoot out of his dick, but he will no doubt come all over himself before Christopher starts fucking him, and he will be a sure embarrassment to mankind. The gay mankind.

“I’m gay.” He pants. “I’m so, so, gay.”

“I know. You are very gay and very pretty.” Christopher sounds serious. A little out of breath and flushed, and there is a beautiful blush of red on his chest.

“You are stunning.” Mattias says. Staring, and his cock twitches and his hips are humping against Christopher’s fingers that are definitely doing things to his arse. Twisting and scissoring and touching that spot which makes Mattias’s head fall back against the pillows accompanied by another weird sounding moan of words.

“I love you.” Christopher whispers, and there is the sound of the condom. The little snaps of rubber against taut skin. More lube drizzling over his skin, and then there are kisses again. He loves the kisses. He loves this. He loves Christopher. He loves everything.

“I love sex.” It’s not him talking. Surely.

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