Cookies and Milk Ch. 05

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Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction. All characters involved in sexual activity are at least 18 years old. Any resemblance to real people is coincidental. (c) 2025. The author, AtlantisTSkelly2, reserves all rights. Unauthorized reproduction, performance, storage, distribution, or display outside of literotica. com is prohibited.

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Would the rain never stop? Yet again, home after work, I was stomping my shoes dry in the apartment entryway, folding my umbrella and coat.

I entered the main room and stopped dead still, surprised.

Rapha was sitting in the upholstered chair in his formal waiter garb, preparing to leave for his evening job. He has just been promoted to lead table waiter at Camillarco's, one of the city's best expense-account steakhouses -- earning commensurate tips.

And, then there was the surprise: Max, facing away, sitting slumped on the couch, playing with his phone. I couldn't quite see his face from this angle, but the tousle of blonde hair and the angle of his chin were unmistakable.

"Hello, Layla," said Raphael. "I found this... person... on our doorstep, and he persuaded me that he should wait inside for you, out of the rain. He had a picture of you and him together, so I thought... well. Are you related somehow? Maybe he is your nephew or something?"

I raised my brow. Rapha was treading a fine line, maybe. Was he gently accusing me of robbing the cradle, to have sex with a younger boy? But, then again, he had direct, observed evidence that I had actually done that. Just with a different boy. And girl. Was he then accusing me of slutty behavior? If so, it was subtle, for Rapha, so I kept my mouth shut.

Rapha looked at me appraisingly, waiting for an outburst that didn't come. "Anyway. He is here. He said something about wanting to pick up some brandy snaps?"

"Thanks, Rapha," I said, looking at him. Then, I pitched my voice in Max's direction, "Hi, Max. Glad you could come," I said.

I wanted to be annoyed with Raphael, because I knew the actual reason that Max was sitting on my couch right now was that my gay boarder Rapha was interested in fucking him. Or getting fucked by him. I dunno which. Actual gay sex stuff always makes me confused.

But, at the same time, I was simply pleased and excited that Max had come here, come with enough confidence to persuade Rapha to let him in, and come... with the unwritten but express intent of having sex. "Picking up brandy snaps." That was maybe a code... for butt sex. With me.

Whoooo hoooo! I wanted to squeal in delight. This teen had come here for sex with me!

Now I needed to get Rapha on his way as soon as possible. I made a show of getting out of his way to the door and asked pointedly, "When does your shift start, Rapha?"

He stood from the chair, looked between Max and me again, and then he smirked the most knowing and salacious smirk at me. He was imagining the sex that was going to happen between me and Max -- right after he left. It wasn't hard for him to imagine, because after all, Rapha had seen it just last week.

"I guess I should go," he said.

"Go on, then" I chided. With that, he closed and locked the front door behind him.

I returned and sat on the couch next to Max. He maintained his focus on his phone.

I reached over to him, brushed his hair with my hand. "Hi, Max," I whispered to him.

"Hiya," he said. He continued to look at his phone, so I paid attention to the screen, too. There were naked pictures there.

"What 'cha watching?" I asked.

"Sex. Fucking." He sounded bored.

"Yeah. Um, what for?" I asked.

"I dunno," he said. The all-purpose prevarication for teens.

As if I was so innocent to pretend I didn't know the reason Max was here? i knew that real sex, with me, would beat small-screen porno sex. Every time. And this was just the second time, for me and him. And the first time, alone, together.

He was here for sex. And I... wanted that too. Was happy to have him.

I gently grasped the phone and lifted it from his hand. "Do you mind?" I asked. I set it down on the couch next to me.

He turned to face me. "OK," he said. His face was... concerned. Unhappy.

"Max," I said. "What is it?" I waited, but no reply. "No pressure, OK? If you are feeling... uncomfortable. You can tell me."

I pushed one arm around him, and pulled him to me, stroking his blonde hair gently. He nuzzled his head on my shoulder.

"Your roommate is kind of weird."

"Rapha? Maybe weird. Yeah. Did you know he is gay?"

"Oh," he said, and thought about it before continuing. "Why do you have a gay roommate?"

"He pays rent to me. It helps with the bills."

Max thought a bit, then breathed deeply. "Josh said..."

"Yes?"

"That Rapha wanted to fuck, but you wouldn't let him. You chased him away."

This was a weird conversation. Where was Max going with it? Did he... want... to fuck Rapha?

And there was the minefield represented by Mikayla and Josh, fucking. Mano's girlfriend, Mikayla. Max didn't know about that, and Josh was frightened of Mano. I mustn't disclose anything about Josh and Mikayla.

"I don't think I should talk about what Josh and I did or didn't do, nor about Rapha. Unless..." I said. "... well. Tell me what you are thinking."

Max snuggled a little closer to me. "Would you... consider having a different roommate?" he asked, finally.

Fuck. Was this boy getting feelings? Already wanting to move in with me?

"What are you asking? Do you have someone in mind as an alternate to Rapha?"

"Well, not right now. But he is... kind of creepy. And, if I were a lady who wanted to entertain men in her apartment, I would... um... no offense, but... I wouldn't keep a roommate like him."

"So you don't like Rapha?'

"No, not really. I mean, I just sat here for thirty minutes and I swear that guy's eyes were working to somehow yank my dick out of my pants without me unzipping."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't... didn't know you were dropping by. And, anyway, I thought he would be better-behaved than that. It sounds like he was pretty impolite."

"Plus he practically accused me of planning to steal from you."

"Well, perhaps he doesn't know you, so he was just taking... extra care. You know, for me."

Max thought about that for a minute. "Yeah, probably. But he was a dick about it."

"Sorry," I said. "He's always treated me well." Then I thought about that statement. "Well, almost always."

"Hmmph."

I was certainly enjoying the warmth of Max and his muscular teen body, driving away the cold discomfort from the rain-wet clothing I was still wearing. I pulled him a bit closer, holding him, caressing his hair, and shifting his head downward slightly to the rise of my bosom.

We rested a few minutes, just enjoying the closeness of our bodies. But I could tell that Max's mind was whirling. And he was not thinking about Rapha or roommates or... really anything other than sex. He was just a teen, after all. And... everything was just about sex.

I liked that. And he had a growing boner in his pants. I estimated he would need to adjust it pretty soon, to avoid an uncomfortable bending experience.

I licked my lips. Max carried a whopper, bigger than Josh. And he was a great licker, too. I wanted to... move to sex right now. Fuck this boy, hard. And cum.

"Hey," he said.

"Yes?"

"You are cheating."

"Oh? How?"

"We have to make some food or candy or something. Before we can... you know. Do stuff."

"Is that a rule, then?'

"Josh says that you always made food, you know: cookies, cakes. And you... well, we did it together last time, too. Candies."

"Brandy snaps," I said.

"Yeah." He was remembering something particularly... stimulating. "And you... you put cum on it and ate it."

"Yeah," I said.

I didn't want to over-play that particular ploy. I admit, I have a bit of a fetish for young men, and for them to do... well, some limited gay stuff. It turns me on. To think that my own sexual power can move them to... overcome all the social programming. Push their boundaries. To get them to do something they believe is really really forbidden. Really nasty.

My cunnie was starting to get a bit wet, as I followed that line of thinking.

"I don't mind making something. Before... you know, doing it," I said.

He thought about that. "Maybe we could... do it before... then make food... and do it again, after?"

I snickered. "Are you such a greedy boy? What happens if the before... is so overwhelming that we fall asleep and... you know, we can't really continue?"

"Fuck," he said. "Then that creep Rapha would come in and..." he made a big fake shudder. "Oh oh oh oh oh oh..."

"Hmmmm," I said. "I think that... Rapha catching us fucking... would definitely be bad." I emphasized the crude F word. "So if... if... we do something before making food... we need to make sure that Rapha won't come in, all creepy-like. Right?"

"Yeah. Yeah!" he said.

"And Max, if we do it before, then I want you to..." I trailed off, not yet wanting to be too forward or too explicit. "Well. I really liked what you did with me last time. Your tongue was... fine. Very fine. Can you do it again?"

"Licking?" he asked. Then, he remembered more specifics. "Licking your... um... cunt and... your butthole?"

"Yeah. Cunt and butthole," I said, now emphasizing the dirtiness of those words. "You did it really well, and I had a big bang of an orgasm. Really big." I said. I smiled, and gently dropped my other hand to his crotch, and slid it silently along that bent boner.

He absorbed the compliment for a few seconds, then his face bloomed with happiness and pride. "You... liked it? Really liked it?"

"Yeah, do you want to do that again? Max? Please?"

He drooped his head a little lower, following the swell of my breast. Then he moved suddenly and mouthed the end of my titty, taking the whole tip, sweater, bra, and all, with sucking, pulling, biting. I shivered in anticipation of where that would lead.

"Hey, I think I need to get some wet clothes off. And, I think... maybe a hot shower? Would be good to warm up."

He wrinkled his face, "A shower?"

"You know there is room for two," I said. I stood. He wanted to follow my breast with his mouth, but the transition was too fast. I put my hand down, and he put his hand in mine.

"Don't forget your phone," I said, as we moved to my bedroom suite. I reached for his shirt, and pulled it up, to his neck. He pulled it all the way over, and threw it ahead of us, onto the floor at the foot of the bed.

I closed my door, and then stopped his further movement with the touch of my palm to his chest.

I turned and sat at the end of the bed. "Do a strip tease dance for me," I requested.

He looked around, a bit embarrassed, but there was no one there but me.

"Please."

He kicked off his shoes, then removed his socks. They went in the pile with his shirt.

"Do it slow."

He stopped fumbling with his belt, looked at me, and licked his lips for concentration. Then he began a little jumping hopping motion. Twirling a bit at the same time. It was... fucking retarded. Inept. Amateur. Goofy. About the least sexy dance you could think of.

But he was cute, and he was dead serious. This was probably his best strip tease dance. And, shit. Who cares how he moved? With his teen body. Well. It was Hot with a capital H. And my cunnie was creaming. This boy, this beautiful boy, was following directions, following my directions, to give me pleasure. To meet my desires.

Fuck.

Then he turned, bent downward, pushing his ass out, pointing it at me. And I saw that he had managed to get his belt off, and it had joined the pile of clothing on the floor in front of me.

And, then, he was teasing the waistband of those jeans, facing away, bent forward, just the tiniest sliver of milky white skin showing under his tan line, above his jockeys.

He teased me by swinging his hips back and forth, and inching the waistband lower, lower, displaying about half of his perfect rump. I could just see the top of his ass crack, and I was the one licking my lips, now.

He swirled, lifting his upper body at the end so he was facing me. His waistband had been pulled down to show the top tuft of his reddish blonde pubic hair, that little nest I loved. He teased the sides of his waistband, up then down, revealing more pubic hair with each twist of his body, but I was still denied the view of his blooming cock. I could see the wide bulge in his jeans where it lived, but Max was teasing me, enticing me.

Fuck, this boy was actually quite good at a strip tease dance, I thought.

He began to gyrate his hips toward me, and he unzipped the fly of the jeans, tugging the outer layer just below that growing bulge. My eyes were riveted on the outline of his dick, looking for bare penis at all corners.

Max obligingly pulled the jockeys down to reveal his large red glans and tip, tantalizing me. Then, he covered it again.

I breathed. Had I been holding my breath? Fuck! This boy was hot.

He slid the outer jeans over his hips and past his knees, and shucked them with a kick flourish into the pile of clothes. His huge boner jostled in the jockey shorts, unbidden glimpses of this big white cock causing my cunnie to go mushie, soft but filling with engorgement, squishy with my juices, my inner lips starting to flare and expand. My face was flushed, warm to the touch.

He moved to stand right in front of me, took my hand, and pushed it down his crotch. I felt the heat and perspiration and... what was that wetness? pre-cum lube?... at the end of his fat soft dick? I drew my fingertips through his soft curlies, then downward along his shaft and his balls.

He pulled my hand back out, leaned over to kiss my lips, and then used both his hands to squeeze the ends of my titties. He was not gentle, but the aggression was mitigated by my clothing, still, alas, in place.

He pushed me backwards so I was lying face up on the bed. He jumped up, landing with both feet on the mattress, one foot on either side of my body, then stood. I could see the bulging fabric at his crotch outlined as a huge shadow below his distant face.

He knelt, then rubbed that cloth-encased monster on my nose and cheeks. "Like what you see?" he asked.

"Fuck yeah," I said, breathily.

He pulled the fabric down, below his balls, and then rubbed that bare cock on my eyes and nose.

I inhaled the masculine perfume deeply. Pure male sex. Musk. Tiny hint of acid sweat. Pheromones. The smell of cum. Or better, pre-cum.

"God Max, that is turning me on," I whispered. "What a teasing."

"Open your mouth," he said, and I complied. He stood rapidly, and then, suddenly, the jockeys were gone, sailing off to the pile, I think.

My attention was riveted to his undercarriage, heavy balls swinging, dark ass crack flexing, fine hair along his thighs and taint. His bung was hidden between his muscular buttocks, tantalizing me. I knew it was there, and I wanted to... open it. Push my fingers in it. Tease it. All the butt stuff. Go ting ting on his prostate until he spasmed.

And then... he squatted. Right over my mouth. Landing his scrotum bags on my lips.

"Suck me. Lick me," he commanded. And I did. I washed his teabags, licking all around the snakey skin, and to the sides where his legs formed a vee, licking the sweaty tang of horny young teen athletic skin.

As I was moving my hand up to fulfill my fantasy on his butthole, he moved again. He used his hand on my forehead to hold my head still, pushing me backwards into the soft mattress.

Then he planted that tight anal orifice directly on my mouth.

"Make your tongue pointy, and push it in," he said. "Lick, you bitch. Lick like you..."

My tongue, forcing its way into his anal ring, stopped him in mid-sentence, and he paused to enjoy the feeling, holding his breath.

Then the air departed with a whoosh. "Fuck," he sighed.

I moved a finger to join my tongue, licked it, then pushed it to the second knuckle in this young boy's ass. Fuck yeah. Bingo. Gotcha. His head jerked back as I stimulated his sensitive nerves there, wiggling, gyrating, pumping.

"Oh, fuck," he said. "That feels... intense. Fucking intense."

His boner had grown to full swell, and it was thumping wildly, randomly, on my nose, my eyes, my cheekbones. I reached my free hand and successfully captured the red dick head. I popped my finger back out of his ass. Right now, it was too much. Too soon.

He was starting to huff. Short breaths, in out, in out. Timed to the pulses of my finger in his ass. Timed to match the growing spasms in his anus. And his prostate.

I didn't want him to cum, yet. We had too many things to do. Pleasures to seek.

So, I squeezed that big beautiful cockhead with both hands. Hard. Pushing the blood out. Dropping the level of sexual excitement a notch or three, delaying his orgasm. Protecting my face from the deluge of hot white cum about to pulse forth from his beautiful, twitching penis.

He said, "Hunh. What? What was that?"

I slapped his buttocks. "Mmmnaff."

He rolled off me. "What?"

"I said, get off," I said. "Don't cum yet. Not yet."

His boner, under my heavy pressure, had shrunk a bit. His chest was flushed, and he was breathing heavily.

That had been a near thing. Early orgasm. To be immediately followed by sleep. And my own frustration. No licking for my cunnie.

"Get up," I said. "Shower." I slapped his ass.

He looked around at the room, taking it in for the first time. Then a mischievous grin crossed his face, and he reached down and pulled my sweater off. He artfully unclasped my bra (this boy is a fast learner), and discarded both into the growing pile on the floor.

"Get up," he said. I stood.

He took my place at the end of the bed, and leaned back on his elbows. His cock half-stood, crooked, turgid, lazy. I wanted to eat it, lick it. What a delicious sight.

"Fucking dance for me," he said. "I want to see your cunt. And your butthole."

My, my. He was getting... direct. Clear. Assertive. I loved it.

My cunnie was on fire, and dripping at the same time. Fuck yeah.

I swung my heavy titties side to side, and his eyes followed them like tennis balls at Wimbledon. I smiled, my sexy feelings blooming. I wanted this boy, and I wanted him to want me, to feel that same desire.

I could see he was entranced. I lifted my titties up to my mouth, lips pulling first one nipple, then the other. His half-mast boner was starting to swell, pulsing with his heartbeat again.

"Fuck, that is hot," he said. "I want to bite them."

I giggled, but otherwise ignored that request. Instead, I turned to point my ass at him. He sat up, full rapt attention drawn to me. This boyo was an ass man at heart, I knew. I resolved to tease the fuck out of him.

I slowly drew down my skirt, revealing my white G-string. It was a tried and true garment that works to lift teen boners every single fucking time. And this time was no different.

I gyrated my hips back and forth as I slowly worked the skirt over my hips and then down my thighs. I peeked around to look at him from time to time, and I noticed that his boner was back, stronger than ever. His eyes were riveted right between my buns. I guessed that my G-strong wasn't providing 100% coverage of my pink crinkle, so he was getting teased by fleeting glimpses of that most powerful anal sex magnet as I shifted my rump back and forth.

My skirt dropped to the floor and I kicked it into the discard pile of clothes.

Then, I pulled my butt cheeks apart, providing unfettered visual access straight into my deep cleft, the sole remaining barrier a thin piece of white cloth.

Max gasped and blew out air. "Fuuuuck," he growled. "You are fucking teasing me."

Then I felt his fingers sliding along my crack, lifting the slight piece of string upward and hooking it to the swell of my right buttcheek. Could he resist this naked butthole much longer? I wondered.

Answer: hell no. He licked his finger, and ran it into my hole.

I groaned, and he groaned back at me. He was masturbating now, free hand pulling at his big dick, as his dominant right hand managed the fine motor skill of slipping in and out of my asshole.

My creaming cunt was emitting steaming pheromones right into his face, and my cunt juices had flooded the completely inadequate white cloth of the G-string.

"Lick," I commanded him.

He dropped his prick, held both my hips in his hands, and drew my swaying rear to his face, burying his tongue in my crack. He licked up and down, slathering away at me, faring as far down as my squishy cunnie, and up almost to my tailbone.

He concentrated on pushing his tongue into my asshole as far as he could make it go. Yeah, this boy was an ass man. Full tilt. Anal addict.

"Fuck, Max. That is good. Lick lower, too. Hit my clitty. Make me cum," I groaned out to him.

He responded with grunts of his own, and pulled my body backward with him, back onto the bed.

I turned, tapped at him, on his muscular belly. "Hey, you are headed the wrong way. Put your head here, off the side of the bed."

Obligingly, he twisted on the bed, then hung his head off the side, looking at my rear end from his upside-down perspective.

I leaned forward, then backed my pussy and asshole onto his face. His tongue engaged fully, licking the fresh juices running out of my cunnie, and then reaching for my clitty, fully swollen and lifting outside of its protective skin tent.

"Fuck yeah, Max. Your tongue is fantastic. Keep going. Lick it. Lick my clitty. There. There. Again. Yeah again."

He took a brief pause to lick two fingers, swirled them in my steaming vagina to gather yet more lube, then he slid them into my asshole.

I felt stretched, bordering just on discomfort, as he twisted this finger bundle fully into me, stretching my anus ring and the internal sphincter, both.

I rode his face harder, pulling his head and his tongue back onto my clit, "Lick, boyo. Lick it."

Then he added a third finger to the finger bouquet twisting in my guts.

The discomfort increased, and my colon... shifted. Spasmed in response to this large intruder seeking its way in.

And that spasm became a little boom, just behind my clit, in my G-spot, inside.

Followed by a second boom. Boom.

He redoubled the flickering tongue magic on my clit.

And then there was a BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM.

And I couldn't help it. The pressure was so intense, the fingers in my ass so overwhelming. The tongue flickering rapidly on my clit, driving strings of electric pleasure through my belly.

And -- I couldn't help it. I... released... onto his face. Great gouts of... liquid. Shooting squirts of... I dunno. Probably pee. But, fuck, my whole sex was just spasming. And it was all suddenly... liquid. Fluid.

It splashed. There was just... so much of it. This... thing. This... liquid.

He coughed, the fluids running down into his nostrils, into his mouth, onto his eyes.

I pulled his blonde hair, hard, pulling his whole face into my cunt. My squirting cunt. And I rubbed him and his nose and his tongue onto my clit again and again.

The aftershocks of that booming earthquake of an orgasm continued, slowed, and de-intensified.

And then. Finally. I stopped. Stepped off his head and slumped down to the floor. There was a pool of... liquids. From me. And now, I was sitting in it.

I reached for the ball of discarded clothes and mopped up the mess. I used Max's shirt to wipe between my legs, cleaning myself off.

He by now had flipped over on the bed, face down, head still over the side, watching me below him. He grabbed a clothing item, his own jockey shorts, I think, wiped his face.

Then he grinned at me. A giant Cheshire cat grin.

"Jeezus," he said. "Was that... a squirt? You... squirted? On me? My face?"

I was feeling... emptied. Lifeless, almost. I have never felt such an immense... Immense orgasm. Ever. BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM. The spasms had wracked my entire abdomen, my butt, my cunt. My clit. My belly. Everything.

Fuck!

I shrugged in response to his question. "I guess? I dunno. It never happened before."

"Fuck," he said, "I made you squirt. For the fucking first time!" He was exuberant, and his joy was contagious.

I laughed with him, "Oh, you boyo, that was fucking good. Such a good licker you are."

He pushed himself up on the bed, and I could see, slung under his belly like a -- I dunno. A bomb slung under a bomber wing. A weapon of destruction, begging for release. I could see the rock-hard head of his fully rampant penis.

And he bounced off the bed, fully naked, this bomb bomber penis targeting me. My mouth.

He pushed my weak body backwards, so I was pinned between him and the bed. And he pointed that huge fucking thing at my lips, holding my head between his hands.

"Now, then," he said with a grin. "Suck it. Suck it, bitch."

I opened my mouth, as wide as I could, and that thing inched down, filling me, sliding on my tongue.

I knew that I wouldn't, couldn't be able to swallow his XXL-sized bomb. Torpedo.

So, I cheated.

I used drool oozing from my over-stuffed mouth to lubricate the fingers on one hand, then reached into his butt crack, and found his hole. I pushed two into his tight hole, and twisted, then crooked them. Aha. Yes, I found that rise of his prostate. And I pushed it.

With my other hand, I circled the base of his dick, cutting off the last two or three inches that he was trying to pound down my throat. Without that, I would have heaved my lunch onto him. As it was, I was swallowing rapidly to quell the rise of saliva that threatened to drown me.

I pulled hard at his prostate. I could feel the beginnings of spasms.

I squeezed my hand circled round the base of his penis, then thought, what the hell. I dropped the guard position, taking the risk of him hammering that fucking hog down my throat. Instead, I moved to tickle my fingernails on his scrotum, at first lightly, but after he groaned, harder, then very hard. His balls had lifted tight to his body, and I squeezed them too.

He jerked. The giant prick in my mouth was forced down my throat, and I gagged, stomach heaving.

He jerked again, then again. I pushed a third finger into his ass, then squeezed hard on his tight balls.

"Fuck! Fuck!" he cried out. This time, his whole body jerked, and he... lost control, head and chest flailing a bit in his orgasm.

He backed away from my face, and he grabbed his exploding dick to direct stream after stream of cum into my eyes and my nose.

I coughed, working to swallow the rising vomit and saliva in my throat, as he was blasting his enormous cum on my face.

He pulled at my other arm, and I removed my fingers from his spasming asshole.

I couldn't help myself, I put them under my nose, and sniffed. It was musky, male, sweat. Sweet. Not sharp. Not... not fecal. Even his butthole smelled beautiful. What a beautiful boy.

He watched me as I licked those fingers, and he moved back closer, rubbing his deflating fat prick along my lips. "Lick, lick you," he said.

"Jeezus," he said, as I finished cleaning his prick. "I... I..." He was at a loss for words. He put out his hand, lifted me up, and then he hugged me, trying to align as much of his body as he could.

I loved the feel of his taut muscles on my softer body, the feel of his curly pubes on my belly.

He kissed me.

I pulled him backward, downward, onto the bed, keeping him tight to me.

"Fuck that was good," I said.

"Yeah," he said. "I.. I... " He was still speechless.

I kissed him. He smiled, a soft, pleased, drowsy smile. Then I watched as post-orgasmic stupor took over his face, his body. His eyes closed.

I kissed him. I inhaled the heady scent of sex, his body. My body.

And I closed my eyes, too.

--/--

Thank you for reading. More to come soon.

Comments are appreciated.

Atlantis

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