Saving Santa (MxM)

4 No Shame Just Breakfast

It's the sizzle of bacon and the aroma of coffee that brings me from my slumber. When my eyes open, it takes me a full minute to remember where I am. I slept hard. But I do know I fell asleep on someone. Someone big and fuzzy. I smile. Cal.

I sit up and slide one bare leg off the couch and onto the floor before I recall I am completely naked.

"Underwear," I whisper, assigning myself my first quest of the day.

"Morning, sleepy head," I hear from behind me.

I pivot at my waist to witness a scene that will be forever etched into my mind: Cal, sipping coffee in the kitchen doorway; a candy cane tucked behind his ear. His hairy chest and strong shoulders sport an apron and no shirt.

Shit, I could get used to this.

"Hey, Big Guy," I reply. My heart does a little flutter and I remind it to chill out.

"Come get some coffee," he says as he turns back to breakfast making.

Spoiler. He is not wearing any other clothes other than the apron. His bubbles mouth-wateringly bounce as he disappears back to the stove.

I abort my first quest and head directly into the kitchen with just the blanket draped over my shoulders like a robe. Pressing myself to Cal's wide back, I give him an adoring hug with my afghan cloak. My morning sausage rests perfectly between his biscuits. To flirt a little, I feel him flex his glutes a few times. The little squeezes on my meat make my cock spasm with excitement and quickly fill up. He turns to face me, and we stay embraced in a face-to-face nuzzle. Cal looks into my eyes and plants a soft, long kiss on my lips. He tastes like coffee and peppermint. With our lips still connected, he reaches down and gives my morning wood a few honks.

"Mmm," he sighs as we kiss, letting me know he likes what he has found.

Our mouths part and Cal presses his forehead to mine. My dick pokes into the tent that has sprung up in the front of his apron. With a hip flick, I playfully slap my cock into his. This sends a strand of sticky precum splattering across the cloth covering his package.

Cal thumbs the rest of the collection of dribble from the head of my dick and sticks his digit into his mouth with a sultry wink. I bite my bottom lip.

"Okay. Get some coffee and grab a seat. I just have to fry up the eggs," he tells me.

"Tease," I say as I turn to the coffeemaker.

"Tease? Oh, you want to see tease?"

In one stride, he has me in his grasp. The stern of my body collides with his bow. One gigantic arm is snaked over my shoulder and barred across my chest. The other starts at my stomach and moves slowly downward. His mouth is at my ear; his beard rubbing against my neck. Every hair on my body is on end.

In a throaty voice, Cal says, "You want to be teased, you naughty boy. Daddy'll tease the shit out of you."

His big mitt finds my steel-hardened pole. My breath catches. So very slowly he pumps from hilt to head.

"I can tease you so badly you will beg for release. You will plead. You'll beg me to suck the load from you to feel complete."

His hot breath is on the nape of my neck. My dick is dripping like a faucet. And Cal's dong is digging into the small of my back. His direction changes and his hand returns to my pubes.

"Tease you.? You will sit on this fucking cock and I will slap your hands every time you try to finish yourself off. You won't climax until I say you can."

He slides his hand back up my shaft, stopping to collect a few fingerfuls of pre-nut. He brings the potion to my mouth and I lick his hand, tasting my own recipe. Then he pops his fingers into his mouth to clean off the rest of the sweet wetness.

"I will let you slam in and out of my hole until you are going to blow and then squeeze that prick out and only let you watch me as I finger bang this pink man-pussy right in front of you."

"I get it," I moan.

With a hard smack on my ass, I am jolted back to the kitchen. Cal has already returned to the frying pan before I can tell what happened. My sticky, pulsating staff is pointing me right toward coffee.

What the actual fuck just happened.

In a stupor, I pour myself some java and then pour myself into a kitchen chair. My body is on high alert but my mind is unsure what to make of the situation. My heart is pounding with lust and my brain is cussing it out.

I open my mouth to say something to Cal, but I can't tell if I want to compliment him or tell him off. He turns, with two plates in hand, and sees the end of my self-battle.

"You okay? Did I go too far?" His brow creases with concern.

"I can't tell," I answer frankly. "I want to say that I can handle hot flirting, and playfulness. I can be casual and just friends. But I am not sure I can, knowing you are moving on your way today."

My verbal diarrhea halts the conversation. I bite into a piece of toast.

"I'm not," he responds.

I stop mid-chew. "Pardon?"

"I called the Andersons to ask if I could stay a bit longer. They said the cabin is mine until Monday morning. I hear there is a killer tree lighting and holiday festival tomorrow. Didn't want to miss that. Gotta get one more swim in and maybe a hike."

I know there is a big cheesy grin on my face as he lists all of the things he wants to do. I shake it off as a way to steady myself. This, whatever it is, whatever is developing, has a very short shelf life.

"Can I pause you for a second?" My hand goes up like a crossing guard.

It's blatant. He stops on a dime. I have his full attention.

"Cal," I pause to get my thoughts together. "I am not sure where I fit into your plan or even the rest of your time here. I would love to continue hanging out, but part of me wonders if need ground rules."

He gives me a slow nod. "Thank you for your candor. And I would love to continue hanging out. How about, whatever happens in our time together, we are straightforward with each other? Communicate."

"I can agree to that. I'll do you one better, too. I'm putting the ball in your court. I'll be on my best behavior."

"Sounds lame," he chuckles. "But for the best."

We look at each other from across the table.

"I will be as gentlemanly as possible," he thumbs his own chest. "Worst case scenario, we walk away on Monday as good friends."

Blah.

"Cool," I lie and take a bite of my eggs.

"There is just one big problem," Cal says.

It's my turn to stop and give him my full attention. One million terrible things fly through my brain at once.

"We gotta get you a Christmas tree."