Finally he pulled away, Mike’s c**k dropping, semihard and shiny with spit, onto his thigh. Ollie eyed it and sighed with contentment.
He reached down to stroke himself off and found that, during his ministrations, he had already come. He pulled his hand away, sticky and dripping, and offered it to Mike, who licked it clean.
“Tasty,” Mike said and then kissed Ollie, their tongues exchanging each of their own sweet essences.
“I like to cook,” Ollie said.
“You certainly do.”
Mike slid down a little more and pulled Ollie onto his chest. They lay like that for a while and when Ollie heard Mike begin to breathe evenly and deeply, he poked him and asked, “Want some breakfast?”
