Oliver starred down at himself on the mirror, he was wearing a short pink maid outfit, his hair was fluffier, and he had light pink lipstick on.
He heard his phone alarm going off.
5:34
François would be home soon.
The freckled man turned off the alarm and went out into the French apartment towards the kitchen, preparing to wash the dishes.
He began filling the sink with soap, and water washing last nights dinner plates, cups, and pot. He couldn't of been more than halfway done, when the door opened.
The Frenchmen sighed loudly, and kicked a chair in the dinning room. Making the smaller man jump.
Oliver shut off the water, and carefully went towards the Frenchman.
"What happened love?" The man asked gently placing his hands on the back of his lovers shoulder, his other hand snaking around the others stomach, as the one hand in the shoulder began the message it.
The Frenchmen growled, Oliver took no heed from it as he let his other hand go to massage the other shoulder.
"Mon dieu Oliver." The Frenchman groaned, enjoying the treatment.
"It's nothing," the blonde sighed.
"I'm just pissed at Allen again."
Oliver chuckled.
"Let me guess, he compared you to your 1p?"
"Oui." The Frenchman mumbled as he sat down in a different chair.
"He also asked if he could fuck you."
Oliver, stopped his movements for a moment.
"Oh." He said returning to his actions.
"I told him no dont worry."
The frenchmen pulled his lovers arm and swung the man to the others lap.
Drinking in his sight.
"Master do you want me to put in a show for you?"
He nodded. Oliver got up from the Frenchmens lap and felt around for the back zipper, slowly took it off letting it pool to the floor. He slowly walked over to the man swaying his hips slightly, and with a flushed face, he looked away from the man trying to give a lap dance.
Then he felt his lovers rough hands, move up, and down his sides. Causing the younger to shiver.
Oliver continued to move his hips down onto his partners groin, taking his hands, and sliding them up, the purple shirt, the left hand staying on the nipple playing with it.
The other hand sliding it's way to his lovers neck then behidn his head, François leaning forward taking his lover into a kiss, throwing the naked male under him, kissing, and bitting everywhere he could.
He was going control now, allowing his right hand to pin Oliver's hand above him, and the other to roam every part of the body he knew so well.
He kissed down his lovers body, and began to tease his lovers dick with his tongue. The pink haired man let out a moan that heightened in pitch slowly.
"F-fra..." He panted out, "François please!" He begged, throwing his head back.
"What do you want Oliver?" François asked pulling away, taking off his shirt, and unbuttoning his very tight jeans.
Oliver whimpered, his eyes bring with tears.
"I-I." His face flushed,
"I want you to-to have sex with me."
Oliver grabbed a pillow and pushed it into his face, and turned away from his lover.
"Ah, ah what's the slang term for that?" François said, reaching over, and touching Oliver's dick lightly.
Hearing his lover, let out a breathy moan.
"D-Don't make me sa-sah-say such language."
François pulled his hand away from the pulsing organ, hearing his lover whimper, and take the pillow away from his red face he practically yelled.
"Please Fuck me!"
François grabbed his lover bridal style, and rushed them to the bedroom. Throwing him down on the bed, he shimmied out of his pants, and boxers. Then the blonde went for the nightstand, and grabbed the loon, applying some to his fingers.
He laid down on the bed, the motioned Oliver to get on him.
"Sixty Nine?" Oliver asked.
His lovers smirk was all he needed to understand that's what he wanted to do.
Not even a minute into their activity, Oliver couldn't keep sucking, François placing his tongue, and his fingers in his ass was just too much.
His pleas, and moans only encouraged his lover to keep going.
Then the treatment was gone, and Oliver was on the bed, stomach up, cum from his recent first orgasm plastered on his stomach, his organ already errect again.
Then slowly François was in, the two groaning each way, sweat coming down off of their bodies.
"You're as tight, as a virgin." François whispered huskily, as he gave a rough thrust to his lover.
"Looks like I'll have to loosen your tight ass up." He slapped his lovers thigh, thankful that Oliver didn't notice him saying the word "Ass."
Then it was fast, rough, moans were long, quick, and in all sorts of pitches.
Oliver, clinging to his lover, taking his hands down his lovers back. Begging for more. Then finally, he came, feeling his lovers juices inside of him.
They stayed that way for a while catching their breaths. François pulled out, pulling Oliver close to him.
"Thanks for the stress relief Oliver." The Frenchman whispered into his lovers ear, kissing his forehead, and cheek.
Oliver grumbled, feeling his lovers sweaty hair.
Enjoying the closeness that the two were sharing, the feeling of François' hand in his pink hair.
"I love you." Oliver said sleepily,
"You owe a pickle in the spare jar though."
"Damnit."
"Two nickles."
François, kissed his lover harshly, forcing him under him again.