Chapter 6 Damon Reid vs. Tristan Thomas: An explosive encounter…Talk interrupted!

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Tristan came down a while later wearing sweatpants and a white t-shirt, his hair still damp from the shower.

“Hey, you,” He greeted Damon taking in his loose-fitting black jeans and a plain black T-shirt. He looked so fucking sexy, Tristan wanted to jump his bones. Only Damon Reid could manage to make worn jeans and T-shirt look expensive and sexy.

“Hey, yourself. Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m good,” He replied flopping down on the couch beside Damon who was sitting with his mini iPad on his thigh and his bare feet on the coffee table.

“Work?” Tristan asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“You work too hard.”

“You think?” Damon asked with a raised eyebrow. “And you need to work more. How’s Albatros coming?”

“Seriously? Are we going to talk about work?” Tristan shot back.

Damon sighed and placed the iPad on the coffee table. Then he twisted in the seat, sliding one bent leg in between them so that he faced Tristan directly.

“Okay, what do you want to talk about?”

“What do you mean, what do I want to talk about? I want to understand this. Are you gay? Am I? What is happening with us? Damon, I’m confused. And I can’t talk to anyone else about this so here I am. Help me understand.” Tristan finished, looking every bit confused as he claimed.

For someone who claimed he was confused, Damon thought Tristan looked insanely sexy and extremely fuckable. Damon had to make an effort to ignore the lurch of his cock beneath his jeans and concentrate on what Tristan was saying.

“Dude, did you hear anything I just said?” Tristan queried, noticing Damon’s absent-mindedness.

“Sure, sure,” Damon replied clearing his throat. “First of all, there’s no Us.”

“I didn’t mean it like that jeez,” Tristan retorted sounding frustrated.

“Second of all, I’m not gay.” Damon went on as if Tristan hadn’t spoken. “I’m bi-sexual. You know what that means right?”

“Yeah yeah yeah. You enjoy fucking both babes and guys blah blah blah. Same shit if you ask me. I am not gay.” Tristan said with a scowl. He drew his lower lip in between his teeth and nibbled on it, lost in thought.

“Stop that,” Damon said softly.

“Stop what?” Tristan asked looking more confused.

“What you were doing with your lips. It’s making me hard. And I believe we’re here to talk.”

And just like that, Tristan became hard. “Shit.” He muttered.

Tristan wasn’t wearing anything beneath those sweatpants, so Damon could clearly see his cock growing. Tristan froze and lifted his head, meeting Damon’s gaze. His lips parted on a gasp when he saw the heat and hunger in Damon’s eyes. They mirrored the need coursing through him.

“Oh, God.” The whispered words tore from his throat.

“Fuck this,” Damon growled and grabbed Tristan’s head, dipped his head, and took Tristan’s lips in a sizzling kiss. Tristan curled his fingers in the front of Damon’s t-shirt and held on. Molten lava spread through him, nice and slow, matching the rhythm Damon set as he flicked his tongue in and out of his mouth.

Tristan moaned, reeling under the intense heat. Just a kiss and he wanted to strip naked and ride Damon into tomorrow. He was leaking so much his sweatpants had a wet patch where his cock pushed against it. Damon moved a hand around Tristan’s waist and pulled his hips closer to him in the middle of the seat. Tristan was so lost in all the delicious sensations, he groaned in protest when Damon separated their lips.

Damon pulled the sweatpants down Tristan’s hips and freed his leaking cock.

“Damon, what are you doing?” Tristan asked breathlessly. His hard cock slapped against his covered stomach and the gushing pre-cum leaked onto his t-shirt. He didn’t think he had ever been that hard in his life.

“Something I need to do. I can’t think when I’m this hard.” Damon said taking Tristan’s cock into his hand. He gave it a hard stroke and Tristan groaned, tendons cording his neck. He watched with heavy-lidded eyes as Damon’s tongue darted out and licked the tip of his dick.

“Fuck Damon.” Tristan moaned and wiggled, spreading his legs wider. Hungry moans bubbled in his throat.

Damon made a noise of pleasure as he reached between Tristan’s legs to cup his balls. Tristan’s head fell back into the sofa cushion, his breath heaving in and out.

Tilting his head, Damon ran his tongue down the pulsing length of Tristan’s cock, following the line of a thick vein. Tristan’s hands fisted by his thighs. He was going out of his mind with pleasure. Damon swirled his tongue around the head, then fluttered the tip just beneath the crown. Then he swallowed him whole.

“Christ...”

Tristan’s back arched with a serrated groan. He grabbed onto Damon’s head, his fingers tightening in his hair. The drenching heat around the most sensitive part of him nearly drove him out of his mind. Damon’s fingertips massaging his balls just about rolled his eyes into the back of his head.

“God, that’s good,” Tristan gasped, his thighs trembling.

The pleasure was vicious, tightening around his spine and pooling at his lower back. The erotic sounds filling the room—Damon’s low moans of pleasure, the wet suckling, Tristan’s helpless curses as he felt the orgasm barreling through him.

“Damon…”

Tristan concentrated on the sensations Damon was layering over him. The feel of his warm tongue, and the suction of those soft lips around him. Damon wasn't taking the time to tease, maybe was having a hard time holding back himself. He was sucking Tristan off as though his life depended on it.

"It's so good," Tristan whispered, tangling one hand in Damon's hair.

Damon made noise around him, the vibration traveling out and spreading through Tristan's body. He was dying. Couldn’t lie still, wriggling closer, tilting his hips, trying to get him to...

"I’m gonna…Damon I’m gonna cum." He finished shakily. He was helpless against the oncoming explosion.

A suck, a lick, and a swirl of tongue, and then Tristan was crying out, spilling down Damon's throat in long, ragged pulses, his eyes closed tight. The orgasm which slammed into him rocked him and took his breath like he had been hit by a truck.

"Fuck!" Tristan yelled, his back arching as he kept shooting his load. The ecstasy sizzling down his spine kept him coming, his balls aching as he emptied them deep down Damon’s throat.

Damon sucked him, wringing everything out of him, every shudder, moan and gasp Damon could get, before backing off. Tristan flopped back onto the couch, sprawling on his back, legs shaking. He felt weak as everything was wrung out of him.

"That was intense," Tristan said shakily.

"Uh-huh."

"I liked it."

"You don't say."

Then Damon was pulling him up by his hands. He threw Tristan on his back fireman-style and started towards the stairs.

“I’m going to fuck your arse, baby,” Damon told Tristan, shocking him, heating his blood with the sensual promise. “Hard and deep, Tris. I’m going to show you what happens when someone makes my blood boil as you do.” Damon started up the stairs. “I bet, Tris, that when my cock shoots up your sweet ass, you’ll be all nice and hot and so tight around my dick I’ll go crazy with it.”

Tristan trembled at the explicit words. He was fighting just to breathe. It was too sensual. But then he remembered the size of Damon’s cock and reality set in.

“Don’t hurt me, Damon.”

A resounding crack to his naked butt had Tristan jerking and swearing curses at Damon.

“Do you really believe I’m going to hurt you, Tristan? I’m going to make you scream out in pleasure. I’m so damn stiff it hurts…See what you do to me? You are so gonna get it, Tris. Get ready baby.”