At the Christmas-Bakery
Series: ST TOS
Summary: One shouldn’t bake with cinnamon when a Vulcan is nearby.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story don’t belong to me. I only borrowed them for some fun. No moneymaking, no violation of copyrights are intended. The story is mine and it is just fanfiction. If you are under age, please stay away. If you have a problem with this topic, then look elsewhere for your entertainment. English is not my native language, so please be patient with my mistakes. Thanks to Lady Charena for the beta. For all remaining errors, blame me.
“You are baking.” Spock noticed with a glance to the chaos of used bowls and baking ingredients all around the kitchen as he entered. Exactly in front of his nose stood a bowl with a small dough rest on the dresser. Spock knew well that he should not but the temptation was hard to resist. As a child he had loved to snack sweet things – although a Vulcan should not be victim to such desires. He dipped his finger into the sticky mass, licked it off and repeated this action.
Jim turned around smiling at his beloved and welcomed him with a kiss. “Yes, dear, and this time without salt. Christmas without cookies is just impossible.”
Spock pulled his bondmate into his arms and kissed him - and stopped as he felt something long and hard pressing against his groin. Something very hard that definitely did not belong to Jim.
He pulled away and looked down...
... and looked once again.
Jim wore a white apron and one this front was a... penis. A big, hard, artificial penis.
Jim grinned as he saw Spocks confused look. "I have bought this one for Mardi Gras. I thought this would be a nice gag if we go next year to the Fleet-party. But I had stained myself with flour just now as the com-divece chimed and didn't want to go with the dirty clothes into the other rooms. Therefore I just put this one on. quickly.”
He turned around and coquettishly wobbled with his ass. "I wear by the way nothing under this."
Spock suddenly felt very hot and this could not only be because of Jim’s appetising sight. He had such a strange taste into his mouth, just like…
"Jim, is cinnamon in the dough?" he asked and gasped for air.
"Yes why?" Jim turned round to face Spock again and noticed his glassy look. "Oh no, you don't have eaten from this?”
Spock nodded dumbly and opened with trembling fingers his trousers. He was already tremendously hard and stiff. And his almost naked bondmate in front of him - he needed it now. Badly
"This is supposed to be our special cookies for a quiet special Christmas celebration," Jim said as Spock pressed him against the table. The Vulcan didn't hear this at all.
Spock took a tube with lube, which was kept for all cases in a drawer and in the past had led to some rather embarrassing misunderstandings. Once Jim had thought it was mayonnaise and did put in on a salad, what of course didn't help its taste. Another time Jim had during a quickie in the kitchen caught mustard instead of the lube – something what had cost Spock’s behind some trouble.
"If the children come home and see us," Jim protested weakly as two fingers penetrated into him. Jim's resistance however did not last long and quickly faded completely as the fingers were replaced by Spock’s member.
'It’s really astonishing how fast and thoroughly cinnamon works.' he thought and silently thanked Amanda for the valuable hint. Although the consequences came in the moment a bit unintentionally they weren't unwanted anyway.
Spock – his needs increasing under the strong aphrodisiac – did not waste much time with a prelude and pushed firmly and in fast rhythm into Jim.
"Oh God, yes...," Jim moaned. "Give it to me, darling, everything!”
The two didn't hear it when the front door of the house opened and the children came home. Sarah carefully pushed the kitchen door left ajar open and peeked -- curious about the strange noises which came from inside - in. Quickly, when she saw her fathers so 'busy', she closed the door again and shoved Tommy away. She had her experiences knowing that one didn't disturb dad and father in such situations. This could only bring trouble.
Jim broke down over the table, exhausted. Spock had finished him in short time. While, quickly, the Vulcan came back to his senses and closed his trousers, Jim straightened up gasping for air.
Suddenly he stopped and sniffed. This smelled like... smoke. He turned round and saw the source - the smoke came suspiciously out the stove.
"Oh no,” he called. "My beautiful cookies."