Saucy
by Karen and LB
© 2002
Just a little something inspired by the Chili's commercials.
"Lance, if you keep laughing, it will take me longer to clean this up."
"That's the idea." <giggle>
"You're not making this easy."
"I'm trying to make it hard."
"You're doing that."
"Actually, I think you're doing that."
"I'm out of barbecue sauce."
"I still feel dirty." Lance grabs a rib from the plate and smears it on his chest.
"Messy eater," JC says affectionately.
"So clean it up."
Slowly, carefully, JC licks at a sauce-covered patch of skin, cleaning it thoroughly before moving on to another.
"Mmmmmm, I LOOOOOOOOOOOVE these ribs!" Lance exclaims.
"I love THESE ribs," JC replies, licking and nibbling his way along Lance's side.
Lance squirms, giggling with delight. "I don't think they serve THIS at Chili's."
"We'll have to make them build us a back room."
"A baby-back room?" Lance giggles.
"You ARE going to pay for that."
"What? What'd I do? Can't you take a little RIBbing?"
"Sure I can. But you're still going to get tickled." And JC licks the ticklish area around Lance's navel, dipping his tongue in regularly.
Lance squirms again, giggling uncontrollably, making a show of trying to get JC off him but not trying too hard. "There's no sauce there!"
"Do you really care?"
"I feel like a piece of meat."
"Dude, you're the one who coated yourself in special sauce."
"It was an accident."
JC rubs a finger over a sauce-covered nipple, then lifts the finger to his mouth, tonguing it lightly. "This was an accident?"
Lance swallows and shakes his head. "Neither is this." He takes JC's finger, touches it to his nipple again, but this time takes it in his own mouth.
JC watches in fascination as the pink lips close around his finger. Lance has grown up into a very, very hot man, but his lips are still baby soft and sweet.
Lance sucks the sauce off the entire finger, then draws the digit painfully slowly from his mouth. "Mmmm, so good."
"Don't tell Chili's. They'll want me on their menu."
"My lips are sealed. You're my secret dish."
"You're making me hungry."
"Why don't you have a little snack, then?"
JC's hand closes over the obvious bulge in Lance's shorts. "This seems . . . tempting."
"Care for an appetizer?"
"I want the whole thing."
"Dig in."
JC slides Lance's shorts off and grins lasciviously. "The tastiest parts don't need sauce."
"Oh . . . my . . . goodness. You sure it has enough flavor? Maybe you better taste it first."
JC leans over and licks the length of the stiff organ. "Tasty. You might even say . . . bold."
"Ohhhhhhh. I say . . . HARD."
"That too." JC leans in again and pays more serious attention to the willing flesh, taking it deeply into his mouth.
Lance puts his hands on JC's head, needing to touch something. "Careful, you want to leave room for the main course."
In answer, JC flutters his tongue around Lance's erection, tasting the first drops of fluid at the tip.
Groaning, Lance puts a fist to his mouth and bites back a scream. JC knows exactly how to get a . . . rise in him.
Never decreasing the intensity with which he licks and sucks and fondles Lance's heated organ, JC reaches up and runs his fingers through the remaining sauce clinging to Lance's chest.
Lance touches JC's arm, stroking it lightly, panting to maintain control.
JC's fingers find a stiff nipple, smearing barbecue sauce over it as he fondles it. He can tell from the little sounds that Lance is making that he's getting close.
Lance arches his back to the touch, the scent of the sauce teasing his nose the way JC's tongue teases his hardness. Scent, touch, sounds combine to finally bring Lance to the brink, and he grips JC's shoulder as he comes, crying out JC's name.
When Lance is done JC looks up. "What's for dessert?" he purrs.
"How about a little . . . whipped cream?"
"Who's doin' the whipping?"
"You wanted the dessert."
"I have to do all the work."
Lance shakes his head. "All work and no play . . . I think it's time for play." Lance pulls JC up and on top of him and kisses him, tasting the tangy sauce mixed with his own essence.
JC's nose crinkles when he feels the sauce squished between them. This has got to be one of the weirdest things they've ever done. But SO much fun.
Lance takes one sauce streaked hand and slides it down JC's back, into his sweats, where it rests on the tight curve of JC's ass.
As if activated by the hand on his ass, JC's hips grind against Lance's and every sensation, even the scent of barbecue sauce, contributes to his arousal.
Lance parts his legs, causing JC's body to fall between them. He lowers JC's sweat pants and shorts, and wraps his hand around JC's hot, twitching organ.
JC moans into Lance's mouth, pressing into his warm, slightly sauce- covered hand. Lance raises his legs then, rubbing JC's organ against his sensitive opening. "Ready for dessert?"
JC knows he should think about lubrication, knows he should think about Lance's comfort, but his body takes over and he pushes in, managing to temper his eagerness to be as gentle as possible.
Squeezing JC's ass, Lance takes him in with a loud grunt, the brief pain quickly dispelled by the extreme pleasure of JC's heat filling him.
Sensing the moment when Lance relaxes, JC starts to move in him. Slowly at first, but faster and harder as the pleasure builds. Lance starts to sing in time with JC's thrusts. "I want my baby back, baby back, baby back . . . "
JC starts to laugh and come at the same time, collapsing in helpless, gasping giggles into Lance's arms. Unable to finish the song, Lance bursts out laughing too, holding JC against him in all their post-sex, barbecue sauce sticky glory. "Where are those Handi-wipe things when you need 'em?"
"We'd need the giant economy size."
"We'll have to put it in the rider."
"We'll get our corporate sponsor to pay for it. Since it's their sauce and stuff like that."
"Joey's gotta be loving this. Of course, he actually EATS the sauce."
"He doesn't know what he's missing."
"This is one meal I'm NOT sharing."