shaking. “Whatever, just…just don't stop.”
Michael smiled, then hummed around Tristan's balls a little while he put the condom on with more stroking than was strictly necessary. He took his time and then wrapped his lips around the head of Tristan's cock, flicking his tongue a little at the slit in the top. Even through the latex, a bolt of electricity shot up Tristan's spine and crackled through his hair.
Tristan's knees buckled, and Michael grabbed his ass both to hold him up and bring him closer, swallowing Tristan's cock in one mind-boggling move that had Tristan's heart hammering in his throat as he came right then and there. Michael continued to squeeze, stroke, and suck him until he came down, eventually collapsing in a heap over Michael's shoulder. Michael slipped off the condom and knotted it, throwing it into the trash.
“That was…” Tristan tried to form words. “That was…oh, shit.” He wrapped his arms around Michael's neck and buried his face there, sort of kissing and sort of biting, but mostly just hanging on in a possessive, primal instinct kind of way.
Michael sighed against his skin. “Let me guess, Sparky,” he said, and his voice sounded like it came from somewhere very far away. “First fishing expedition?”
“Mmmhmm, yeah, well…” Tristan tried to find a way to deny it, wondering if cops could tell if you were lying better than girlfriends could and deciding that, yes, they probably could. “Yes. Okay. But it's not what you think. I have experience, so I didn't think it would be, you know, that different. Just, like, we'd use different holes and stuff.”
“You're kidding me,” said Michael, brushing the hair out of Tristan's eyes. Tristan thought Michael held his hair a little longer than necessary and wondered if he liked it, maybe, and just didn't want to let it go.
“Look, perhaps I was a little hasty,” said Tristan, starting to panic. “But it's not like I haven't been hitting it with girls since I was fourteen, so…”
“It is not the same!” said Michael. “And you almost placed yourself in the hands of a total stranger. What do you do for brains outside of school, Sparky?”
“Hey, I do not need your insults. How does anyone get started having…”
“I'll tell you how,” said Michael, gritting his teeth. “Most of us start like it's a joke between friends, you know, pretending it's just until we can get it with girls so let's jerk off together or whatever. Some of us get laid by older or more experienced men who may or may not care about our feelings, but are probably not into hurting our bodies, because it's hard to get it up if you're in pain. And then some of us get ourselves into really bad situations with strangers who don't care about us at all and end up getting used.”
“Which were you?” asked Tristan gently, unable to stop touching Michael's face, conveying without words the tenderness he was feeling in that moment.
“All three.”
Tristan tightened his grip on Michael. “I'm sorry. I thought it would be like picking up girls for sex, you know, at the mall or something.” He smoothed the hair on the back of Michael's head, down to his neck. “Which I've done, so I'm not a total novice at this sort of thing.”
“Oh, Sparky, a guy looks at you? You are the girl.” He smiled and then shook his head. “Still want that lemonade?”
“Yes…no…I want”—he tightened his grip on Michael—“I want…”
“I know.” Michael helped him to his feet. “Come on.” He took Tristan's hand and walked him into the living room. “We probably ought to talk.”
Chapter Five
Michael dimmed the lights until Tristan could just barely see. His living room was small, furnished with not much more than a large sofa on an oriental rug facing the fireplace.
“I really love this room,” said Tristan, echoing his earlier sentiment. “It's like a room in
Michael smiled, then hummed around Tristan's balls a little while he put the condom on with more stroking than was strictly necessary. He took his time and then wrapped his lips around the head of Tristan's cock, flicking his tongue a little at the slit in the top. Even through the latex, a bolt of electricity shot up Tristan's spine and crackled through his hair.
Tristan's knees buckled, and Michael grabbed his ass both to hold him up and bring him closer, swallowing Tristan's cock in one mind-boggling move that had Tristan's heart hammering in his throat as he came right then and there. Michael continued to squeeze, stroke, and suck him until he came down, eventually collapsing in a heap over Michael's shoulder. Michael slipped off the condom and knotted it, throwing it into the trash.
“That was…” Tristan tried to form words. “That was…oh, shit.” He wrapped his arms around Michael's neck and buried his face there, sort of kissing and sort of biting, but mostly just hanging on in a possessive, primal instinct kind of way.
Michael sighed against his skin. “Let me guess, Sparky,” he said, and his voice sounded like it came from somewhere very far away. “First fishing expedition?”
“Mmmhmm, yeah, well…” Tristan tried to find a way to deny it, wondering if cops could tell if you were lying better than girlfriends could and deciding that, yes, they probably could. “Yes. Okay. But it's not what you think. I have experience, so I didn't think it would be, you know, that different. Just, like, we'd use different holes and stuff.”
“You're kidding me,” said Michael, brushing the hair out of Tristan's eyes. Tristan thought Michael held his hair a little longer than necessary and wondered if he liked it, maybe, and just didn't want to let it go.
“Look, perhaps I was a little hasty,” said Tristan, starting to panic. “But it's not like I haven't been hitting it with girls since I was fourteen, so…”
“It is not the same!” said Michael. “And you almost placed yourself in the hands of a total stranger. What do you do for brains outside of school, Sparky?”
“Hey, I do not need your insults. How does anyone get started having…”
“I'll tell you how,” said Michael, gritting his teeth. “Most of us start like it's a joke between friends, you know, pretending it's just until we can get it with girls so let's jerk off together or whatever. Some of us get laid by older or more experienced men who may or may not care about our feelings, but are probably not into hurting our bodies, because it's hard to get it up if you're in pain. And then some of us get ourselves into really bad situations with strangers who don't care about us at all and end up getting used.”
“Which were you?” asked Tristan gently, unable to stop touching Michael's face, conveying without words the tenderness he was feeling in that moment.
“All three.”
Tristan tightened his grip on Michael. “I'm sorry. I thought it would be like picking up girls for sex, you know, at the mall or something.” He smoothed the hair on the back of Michael's head, down to his neck. “Which I've done, so I'm not a total novice at this sort of thing.”
“Oh, Sparky, a guy looks at you? You are the girl.” He smiled and then shook his head. “Still want that lemonade?”
“Yes…no…I want”—he tightened his grip on Michael—“I want…”
“I know.” Michael helped him to his feet. “Come on.” He took Tristan's hand and walked him into the living room. “We probably ought to talk.”
Chapter Five
Michael dimmed the lights until Tristan could just barely see. His living room was small, furnished with not much more than a large sofa on an oriental rug facing the fireplace.
“I really love this room,” said Tristan, echoing his earlier sentiment. “It's like a room in
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