The Senator's Boy (closed for tamgreen)

[ericrodman101]

Damien told Tommy to go for it. "Fuck me hard." And Tommy did as he was told. Damien was in heaven. He could feel Tommy deep in his ass, reaming and stretching, the feeling of being filled and violated divine.

And then he felt the boy's fingers round his cock, pumping it, tugging roughly in his other silky smooth hand.

But it got better. He felt Tommy's tongue and warm breath on his ass, right up against where Tommy's hands were ploughing into him. And each time the 18 year old had to take a breath, through the fog in his head Damien caught glimpses of the boy in the mirror, his face slick with saliva and lube and ass juice. The debauched image just spurred him on.

"Fuck me, Tommy, deep and hard."

Damien moaned, forgetting they were in a hotel room, vocalising his pleasure loudly. And yet, even as he edged further into orgasmic territory, Tommy's inexperience told. He stopped and sat back, panting. Damien turned his head, blinked and looked at the young guy in the mirror.

"I stuck my tongue up your butt," Tommy said, almost absentmindedly, as if to no one in particular.

"You did, Tommy," Damien said. "You're a good boy. Don't stop."

"I tasted it. I liked it."

"Then fucking do it again, Tommy."

But Tommy seemed not to hear, just stared at his hands and Damien's butt, panting wildly. The older guy wondered if they'd reached another limit. Today had been fast and furious, and for a kid like Tommy, maybe it had been too much. Damien didn't want him to come down from the adrenaline rush and worry he'd done wrong. And then tell someone. Shit, like his parents. This was going to need some careful playing and not just leaving for dinner with Paul when they were done or the time ran out. Damien couldn't see his watch and he didn't want to break the mood by asking Tommy the time. At least he'd remembered to lock the door.

And then Tommy brought it all back into focus. "What should I do next?"

Damien was elated, and worried at the same time. He knew what he wanted Tommy to do next, but was it too much? Jesus. Was it? He would have been happy just to receive another digital exploration of his anus, and kissing and tonguing and tugging....and Jesus, just do it, Tommy, Damien willed. He opened his mouth to speak, just as he spied the dildo on the bedside table, peeping from under the newspaper. His lust got the better of him.

"Tommy," he said, quietly and deliberately. He saw the young man lean down closer to catch his words. "I want you to use the dildo on me. Do you understand? The dildo, Tommy. I want you to fuck my ass with the dildo."

 

[tamgreen]

Tommy slowly eased his fingers free of Damien's ass, excessively careful, as if the older man were a tender virgin like himself instead of a veteran lecher who'd fucked and been fucked innumerable times, apparently by things as large and merciless as that obscene twelve-inch rubber thing on the bedside table.

He spread himself over Damien's back, absorbing his warmth.

I want you to fuck my ass with the dildo.

Tommy's eyes went wide. He wrapped his arms around Damien and squeezed, trying to soothe his nerves.

"That... the black thing?" Tommy whispered. "That super huge thing? For real?"

Damien was quite serious - Tommy hesitated a few moments longer before crawling up the bed to reach for the dildo, his small hand poking cautiously beneath the newspaper as if the big black thing were a snake that might bite him. He grabbed it by the base and dragged it closer to him, marvelling at the heft of the absurdly sized cock. It was almost the size of his forearm. He looked down at Damien again for reassurance.

"This really... is supposed to fit... up the butt?" he stammered.

I don't believe you, his mind whispered, and he opened his mouth to say the words, but stopped himself before they could escape. What business did he have challenging this man? Doubting him would have been wrong. Damien had been so good to him, and Tommy didn't believe he would mess with him just for fun.

"Please show me how," he begged, trying to push the massive dildo into Damien's hand. He was running on the dizzying adrenaline of both excitement and panic, and he didn't trust himself not to mess up whatever Damien wanted him to do.

"Please? I'm sorry... I really like you, and I'm sorry I'm so... I dunno... useless."

Tommy swallowed hard, suddenly feeling near tears, sure that he was a huge disappointment. It was obvious that Damien really needed to get off, and Tommy, in his inexperience and apprehension, didn't seem to be able to step up. This morning had been so easy - he'd barely put his mouth on Damien and the guy exploded and then told him he was some kind of expert. Now it seemed that impossible things were expected, and he was a deer in headlights. He almost invited Damien to just fuck him, even if he wasn't ready and even if it hurt like hell, but he couldn't seem to manage that either.

He leaned over Damien and spread kisses down his back and buttocks, as if to appease him.

 

[ericrodman101]

So maybe they'd reached a limit, Damien thought. And that was OK. Tommy was a dildo virgin, just like he'd been a complete virgin this morning. Whatever else happened between them, or to them, Damien knew the day would always loom large for Tommy. He just hoped it would be a positive experience, however shocking. The dildo would have to wait. Fucking Tommy's ass would have to wait.

Damien loved how Tommy was into him enough to kiss his ass, even as the younger guy baulked at the dildo. "I've been hard on you, Tommy," Damien said, his head buried in the bedding as he felt Tommy's mouth on his skin. "Forgive me, Tommy. I'm sorry if I pushed you too hard. You're a great guy. I love you, man. Love what you do."

Love? Jesus. Was that a good word to use on a vulnerable 18 year old? But he'd said it now and Tommy's face was deep in his ass cleft so maybe it was just one of those things people said in the heat of the moment.

But Damien was still hard. He wanted Tommy to tug him or suck him to a final orgasm and maybe let him cum on his face, before cleaning up for dinner. Ass kissing was fine, but Tommy was neglecting his cock. Damien rolled over, and lay on is back. Tommy sat back too and just stared now they were face to face. Damien grabbed his own cock and stroked himself, feeling the hardening recommence.

"I love what you do to me, Tommy," he said. "I love what you do to my cock."

He guided Tommy's eyes down with his own until they both found the target.

 

[tamgreen]

Forgive me.

I love you.

Tommy's insides melted into a warm puddle. Of course he took these words more seriously as he'd ever taken anything in his life. He had hoped this was so much more than just hooking up, and here it was - the L-word.

At a naive eighteen, having been rigidly sheltered and experienced practically nothing of the real world, Tommy was more than ready to flee from his parents and straight into the arms of a handsome, well-to-do, totally together older gent who would look after him. He was just as thrilled about the idea of falling in love as he was about experiencing sex, and rolling it all into one day was making him feel as high as a kite, not that he would have ever experienced that either. His fears and struggles to keep up couldn't even bother him now - Damien had asked him for forgiveness, and wasn't he just the greatest man who ever lived?

Tommy gulped back a rush of emotion and knuckled away a little moisture that had gathered around his eyes as he gazed over Damien's gorgeous body, finally resting his eyes on that glorious cock, breathtakingly rigid after he'd stroked it up to full arousal. It bobbed enticingly, begging the boy for for attention.

"Oh...," he whimpered, craving that magnificent piece of flesh so enormously it was almost like a physical pain. "I love it. I love your... cock. Love... all of you. I love you. I do."

His heart squeezed up, and his cock throbbed. Yes, of course he loved Damien - how could he not? What could this be but love?

Pulling himself abruptly from his romantic reverie, Tommy took a big breath and scrambled down to perch on his knees between Damien's legs, leaning over him to ogle his cock and balls at point blank range. He was salivating. His pupils dilated. He knew what he wanted. His body knew. His mouth knew.

Leaning down further, he placed his hand affectionately over Damien's so that they were stroking him together. His lips landed on the glistening piss slit, kissing and tasting Damien's pre-cum. It made him hungrier, and he was soon licking all around the glans like a kid with an ice cream cone. His lack of blowjob experience was abundantly obvious, and after he'd spent some time licking up all sides of it and across the top in broad, wet, clumsy strokes, he latched on and started suckling.

 

[ericrodman101]

Damien knew he should stop, just not yet. He'd said 'I love you' and instantly regretted it. He didn't love Tommy. Shit! After fucking for one day! He loved what Tommy did and that was the problem. And Tommy had said 'I love you' back. Jesus!

Out there was politics land, right up to the locked door of the room where Tommy had finished shoving his fingers into Damien's butt and was now latched firmly onto Damien's cock, sucking like he was drawing poison out of a snake bite. Or out of a snake in the case of Damien's cock. He couldn't help smiling to himself, even as the inevitable raced up to crash into him head on. And Tommy, face full of Damien's cock, cheeks puffed out, sweat on his brow, just saw Damien smiling and tried to smile back, but was too engaged to turn up the corners of his mouth.

"You're doing good, Tommy. You're doing good."

Damien could only guess the time. Paul had arranged a big dinner tonight, lots of people who wanted to talk to the Senator. And for all he knew Paul had invited Susanna. He did that sometimes knowing it might put Damien off doing things he shouldn't, or at least give him pause. Fuck Paul, fuck Susanna he thought. "Fuck!"

Tommy was looking at him the whole time, eyes locked on Damien's even while his whole other focus was on the hard fat 40-something cock between his lips.

"Come on," Damien said, sitting up and reaching a hand out to place behind Tommy's head. He pulled the younger guy on hard, making him cough up a generous quantity of spit which coursed down Damien's shaft and onto Tommy's hand. "We gotta hurry. I gotta get cleaned up."

Whether or not hurrying Tommy changed anything wasn't clear to Damien. He was close to cumming anyway and decided best not to make a complete mess of the boy. Damien sat up straight, pulled Tommy on hard and with his cock buried in the top of Tommy's throat, came copiously, a series of extended pulses unloading Damien's seed straight into the 18 year old's stomach. Tommy's bucking and kicking and gagging as the discharge overwhelmed him was all the more stimulating for Damien. He held onto Tommy's head long after he should have let go, until he was empty. And then took his hand away so that Tommy sprang back, red and sweaty and gasping for air.

 

[tamgreen]

Tommy hadn't realized they were on some kind of a time limit, but as he was lost in a pleasant haze with his mouth stuffed with cock and feeling on top of the world, the word hurry reached his consciousness, and before he could even properly process it, the cock he had been enjoying so much plunged down to bash against his throat, triggering an immediate gag reflex and panic, as well as reflexive tears.

He struggled against both the gagging and the panic, desperate still to please his lover, desperate not to fail at this, but there was no stopping the tears that coursed down his smooth, reddened cheeks.

Tommy was drowning. Damien shot straight down his throat, and it was a bizarre sensation of mingled panic, horror, victory, and pleasure. For a few moments, he felt like he was dying, and he was totally okay with it.

When he was finally freed, he reared back, a small dribble of cum dotting his flushed and swollen lower lip. He looked bedraggled and startled, but when his coughing and gagging fit had calmed, he gazed down at Damien with pure love, his pupils still hugely dilated. His excited dick stood up at attention, hard as a nail.

With a tremulous sigh, he flopped out next to Damien, resting one small hand on his broad chest.

"Was it okay?" he begged in a hoarse little voice. He knuckled away the remains of his tears, which had finally slowed. "Was it really okay? Are you happy?"

 

[ericrodman101]

Damien looked up at Tommy as the young guy freed himself from his older friend's cock. A dribble of cum ran down Tommy's lip. Damien could see the awe, the regard in Tommy's face, even as he appeared wrecked by the encounter, untidy, dishevelled, his hair a mess of cum and sweat. 'What have I done to deserve you?' Damien thought. 'What a lucky guy I am.'

"Was it OK?" Tommy asked. "Are you happy?"

'Happy?' Damien thought. Whatever happy is. Happy to have met Tommy. Happy to have been allowed to dominate him. Happy to be sexually fulfilled, as far as that went. And yet their time was nearly up today. The prospect of dinner and a long evening of political speak, then a night alone or even with Susanna maybe, and tomorrow....tomorrow driving back into the 'burbs before Monday and the commencement of his senatorial duties. Happy didn't go close to describing the complex emotions he felt.

But Damien knew one thing for certain. If he never saw Tommy again after today, if this cute little guy just upped and left and went home to his parents and their paths never crossed after today, that wouldn't make him happy. That would leave a hole, a gap....but why? Tommy was just some cute dumb kid who'd been in the right place at the right time, who'd been available and suggestible and willing and awkwardly capable sexually beyond his years.

"It was really OK," Damien said, reaching out and placing a hand on Tommy's shoulder, then pulling the 18 year old into his embrace. "I'm happy. But I gotta go get cleaned up for dinner. And you must have work or a home to go to. Somebody must be missing you."

Damien kissed him, a long slow kiss lingering on Tommy's lips, tasting the boy's tongue and the salt of his own cum still slick in the boy's mouth. For a moment Damien thought they should just leave together for any place that wasn't here. But he knew that wasn't possible. Not now. Not ever....

He relaxed and let Tommy draw back. "I really gotta get cleaned up. It was really OK. You're a great guy, Tommy. A great fuck."

Damien slipped off the bed and stood, naked, looking down at Tommy lying there, his fine young cock still rigid. If only there was more time. If only....

And much as he knew he needed to get a move on, Damien relented at the sight of Tommy's wide eyed sadness.

"Tommy, are you happy?"

 

[tamgreen]

Tommy was validated and satisfied by his words at first, but the slowly creeping dismay that soon took over was painted all over his flushed, tearstained face. He had an awful premonition Damien was just going to leave and this would be it. He felt guilty immediately for the thought, remembering that Damien had said he loved him, and you didn't just say that to someone and then leave them behind. Saying he was "a great guy" as he got up to leave looked like a compliment on the surface but could easily be a slap in the face, a shitty way to say goodbye. Maybe Damien really was disappointed with him and was just too nice to say so.

Tommy shivered, feeling more lost and alone with every inch that separated them. It was as if he'd spent his whole life locked in a little cage, not even aware of how vast the world was, and now this man had freed him, had showed him what life could really be, but was now dropping him in an unfamiliar wilderness and leaving him to fend for himself. How could he survive without his rescuer, his guide? He didn't know what direction to go in, or what danger might be lurking behind the next corner, and he almost wished he'd just been left in his little prison, where at least he knew what to expect.

"How can I be happy when you're going?" Tommy whimpered, his eyes welling up. His hand slipped down to cover his own neglected cock, as if embarrassed by his persistent hardness. His throat and ass ached from what Damien had done, and his own cock had only gotten a few strokes through this entire encounter, but he still didn't feel right asking for anything. He'd gotten off plenty earlier in the day - shouldn't be content himself with that?

"You'll be gone in the morning, won't you?" His voice broke mid-sentence as the tears started to roll. "And it'll be like none of this has ever happened. I guess your job is everything now, and you have to look after your family, and there won't be any space for me. Maybe... someday... you could come back again? And teach me more things?"

Tommy sniffled and blotted away some of his tears with the back of his arm before launching himself forward to try to wrap his arms around Damien.

"Or maybe you could say you're sick and can't make your dinner appointment?" he whispered desperately. "And we could order room service and just stay here, together?"

 

[ericrodman101]

It wasn't quite the answer Damien expected. Not happy. Well not happy at the prospect their...liaison was coming for an end. Liaison. He even sounded like a senator in his head. Fuck!

"I'm not happy either," Damien said, reaching his arms out to Tommy, but not quite connecting, and hoping to Christ Tommy wasn't going to cry. "We've had a great day, a fucking wonderful day...and there's things I have to do."

Tommy whimpered and then put his hand down and covered his cock, still hard and showing no signs of going down even if Damien was now slack. And then the boy cried. Sure it had been coming, but Damien hoped against hope that it wouldn't come to actual crying. Shit shit shit.

"You'll be gone...." Tommy said looking thoroughly miserable. Damien nodded, but not sure if he was conveying empathy or confirming Tommy's worst fears.

And then Tommy launched himself off the bed and grabbed at Damien, all arms and cock and tears. Damien just stood naked and let the boy grope and prod him, until the 18 year old was hanging limply off his shoulders and making way too much noise.

And then it came. The proposition. Or ultimatum, as it sounded in Damien's head.

"Or maybe you could say you're sick and can't make your dinner appointment?" Tommy whispered. "And we could order room service and just stay here, together?"

Damien felt deathly cold. Tommy looked up at him, despairingly. The puppy dog eyes which had so drilled into Damien's consciousness all day, now hinted at negotiation, disagreement, a trap? Do I say no and push him away, Damien thought, or play for time, or what? Fucking what? And the whole time Tommy's teenage cock poked into Damien's thigh like a ramrod, uncompromisingly hard and desperate for attention.

"Tommy, Tommy, Tommy...." Damien began, but with no idea where the sentence would end. "...we've had a great time today....I wouldn't swap it for anything in the world. And I know....just as you do, we gotta do this again soon. I want you. Desperately, big man. But tonight...."

He felt Tommy tense and draw his body back, even as the young guy clung tightly round Damien's neck.

"Hey, I gotta clean up," Damien said. "And so do you." He laughed and tousled Tommy's hair which was knotty with cum. "How about you and I have a quick shower. Together. Yeah?"

 

[tamgreen]

Tommy's breath hitched a few times, but he looked slightly mollified by the prospect of a shared shower. With a sheepish little smile through his tears, he nodded and took hold of Damien's hand, walking with him to the spacious hotel bathroom, his cock leading the way.

He was embarrassed by his own behaviour and wasn't sure how to make up for it. Of course he could understand Damien wouldn't be putting his life aside, and that he didn't owe him anything. Tommy felt like a failure as an adult - he'd been given a treat and, instead of appreciating what he had, he was doing what a child would and throwing a tantrum because it couldn't last forever. Was there any better way to push someone away? Look how clingy his mother had been, and there were few things Tommy wanted more than to get away.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he stood naked and scrawny on the bath mat, arms crossed over his boyish chest. Yes - that was the right thing to do. He had to be sorry for being a baby, and hope that Damien really would want to see him again. How could he survive otherwise?

"It wasn't fair of me to ask you to stay. I guess love isn't supposed to mean locking someone in a cage, even if that's basically what my mom always did to me. I know I need to let go."

He stepped up behind Damien as the man adjusted the water temperature, placing his arms around his waist and leaning on him, breathing hotly on the back of his neck.

"It's just so hard. You're... basically a god. How can I live apart from you, after being touched by you just once? I'll wither and die!"

He circled around Damien and peeked up at him, offering a little grin to show he wasn't wheedling or trying to inflict a guilt trip, but just being cute and giving all the extravagant compliments he could think of.

 

[ericrodman101]

"You're basically a god...." Fuck, cute little Tommy was smitten something bad, Damien thought. He adjusted the water with Tommy clutching tightly round his waist. The older man could feel his young friend's cock poking into the back of his leg. Does that fucking thing ever go down, Damien thought?

And then Tommy was in front of him, between Damien and the taps, the warm water cascading through his long black hair which was plastered across his face like a curtain to be pulled back to reveal....Damien reached up with his fingers and gently parted the fringe. Tommy smiled coyly. Damien leaned down. They kissed. Damien ran a finger down the centre of Tommy's smooth chest, past his navel, and found the mound of his cock and then the organ itself. It was still hard, but if anything, it sprung even higher and harder at the touch. Damien regretted he wasn't hard, at least not yet. A forty-something cock is simply not going to stay up all day without pharmaceutical assistance.

Their lips still locked together, the water streaming over their bodies, Damien tugged at Tommy's cock, stroking and caressing and teasing the boy, and feeling him respond through his tongue, reaming the inside of Damien's mouth.

But what the fuck was the time? It had been late when they entered the shower and with all the hints and even blunt language, Tommy was still here, naked and hard, and ready to cum in Damien's hand. Better get a move on, he thought. But first a soaping, some ass play, and then maybe bringing Tommy to orgasm in his mouth. Jesus, maybe I could call in sick, Damien thought. Maybe....

 

[tamgreen]

Tommy moaned against Damien's lips, his tongue eagerly searching the other man's mouth as if hunting for hidden treasure. He could hardly stop his hips from bucking in response to the stroking of his cock - he tried to fuck Damien's fist with the energy of a young rabbit, but Damien kept loosening his grip, easing off, teasing and exploring and edging him in the most wonderfully maddening way. Each time Damien let go of his cock, Tommy made a guttural noise of muffled protest, but in truth, he loved that the man was tormenting him, especially since it drew out their last minutes together that much longer.

The slickness afforded by the water flowing over their naked bodies was soon heightened by the addition of soap suds, and Tommy suppressed a squeal of glee at the marvellous new sensation of sliding his naked soaped-up body against another's. He wriggled freely against Damien, rubbing up and down and back and forth, gasping and giggling and trying to touch all of the man with all of him. His hands found Damien's ass, first rubbing both cheeks in affectionate circles, and then gripping and squeezing them.

"Oh my god," Tommy sighed, so over the moon he could barely contain himself.

"You're the best ever. The greatest man alive. And the best toy. Am I yours, Damien? Am I your favorite toy? I can't think of anything I'd rather be."

He gazed into Damien's eyes and grabbed hold of his cock, which wasn't quite boned up at the moment, but that was okay - Tommy just wanted to caress it, experience it, rolling the fascinating flesh between his fingers and weighing his heavy balls. A real man's cock and balls, right here in his own hands - what a rush.

 

[ericrodman101]

Damien was torn. Time was ticking away. Not showing for dinner would take some explaining, and not just to Paul if Susanna was here too. He was starting to wonder when one of them would come to the room. At least they didn't have a key. And the concierge wouldn't let anyone in. Would he?

Tommy was beyond belief fucking stimulating. From being an awkward inexperienced teen this morning, he was almost leading Damien as they grappled in the shower. If only Damien could get hard. He wanted to. Willed it. Slid his soaped body against his young friend's, encouraged him to stroke his cock, play with it, tease him, anything to make it hard.

On the other hand, Tommy's talk was pushing some strange buttons. Damien remembered the vacation he took to the Dominican Republic the year before he was made partner. The first time he'd fucked two black guys. He picked them up on the beach, like every other white guy who went to the Caribbean for sex. It was safe, a resort beach. The boy sluts were on the payroll, and told to make you think it was all by chance. The fucking was fabulous, but they had an odd line in banter, as if they'd learned what to say. 'You're the best, you're the greatest, I've never fucked a guy so big...' Sort of how Tommy was talking now. But Tommy hadn't been taught to say this. It was spontaneous. He was trying to please, of course. Damien knew that. Tommy was saying things he felt. It was working mostly, except it wasn't getting Damien hard.

Damien realised Tommy was making a close inspection of his cock, examining it forensically with his fingers as if trying to commit it to memory, every fold and flap and ridge and vein. It felt great and Damien fancied his organ flickered into life occasionally. If only he hadn't fucked himself raw earlier in the day, but had paced himself. He hadn't expected to be still with Tommy so late in the afternoon.

"Tommy," Damien said, holding the boy back a little so he could look him in the face. "You're the greatest. You're my favourite toy. I'm sorry I'm not hard for you or we could...well, you know, finish your education. Maybe if you sucked my cock it might do what we both want it do, yeah? And if that doesn't work, then I'll suck you off...and then we gotta call it a night. Really."

Tommy looked so disappointed and sexy and fuckable. Damien kissed him, leaning down to push his soapy fingers up inside the 18 year old's ass while they locked lips, feeling Tommy adjust his stance to open himself up as Damien stretched and probed him.

"OK," Damien said. "Suck that limp cock."

 

[tamgreen]

Tommy grunted into Damien's mouth as he felt the man's fingers penetrate him. God, was that ever intense! There was still significant pain, but after the earlier invasions, he found unexpectedly that he craved new stimulation of that deep ache, in the same way that one might compulsively push on a bruise or press one's tongue against sore spot in the mouth. It was becoming a sweet and fascinating pain. More so than this, he was discovering the pleasure and satisfaction of having something inside him.

He sucked at Damien's tongue, growling his approval of the fingering. But he had an important job to do, and soon Damien had broken the kiss and withdrawn his fingers, ordering him to get to it. Tommy nodded gamely and kissed his way down the older man's body as he lowered himself down. He pushed his tongue playfully into Damien's navel, flicking his eyes up to watch his expression.

At last Tommy was on his knees, face-to-face with Damien's soft prick. He fondled it lovingly and made sure the suds were rinsed away so he didn't get his mouth washed out with soap. His warm mouth wrapped around the fat head of the senator's cock, his small hand wrapping around the base. He tried to stuff more of Damien in, sucking and slurping and swirling his tongue around.

He felt it chubbing up a little in his mouth, which made him grin between happy slurps, but it was slow going, and Damien wasn't exactly getting hard. Tommy didn't mind - he felt like he could contentedly suck all night.

They didn't have all night, though, so Tommy tried to come up with ways he could help Damien get more aroused. He tried grabbing and massaged his balls, and then reached around to explore Damien's fine ass again, this time poking between the cheeks with one finger to find his asshole.

All the while, Tommy kept pointing his eyes at Damien's, now and then squinting or blinking away water. He didn't want to forget any part of this.

 

[ericrodman101]

Suck that limp cock. Jesus. What was Damien thinking? Trying to wind things down, trying to help Tommy understand they weren't going to fuck all night, trying to take a little heat and frenzy out of what was happening. And then he said 'suck that limp cock' as if they were in some cheap gay twink exploitation vid, like the ones Damien spent way too much time watching on his own. Suck that limp cock. Shit!

So Tommy was sucking Damien's limp cock. Sure, Damien felt himself harden a little, but not much was going on. He'd been hard at it all afternoon and sometimes a cock has to rest and recuperate. Tommy had a finger in Damien's butt now. It felt fabulous, and two would have felt....wow. But harden up? His cock sort of swelled slightly, but not even enough to show in Tommy's cheeks.

Damien looked down at his young friend, the water streaming down his hair and face. He watched Tommy blinking and puffing and blowing, and felt his finger poking deep. It was perfect except for one thing.

Damien played his last card. With Tommy kneeling on the floor of the shower, he put a leg over his shoulder so that he could pull the 18 year old hard onto his cock. The boy's face was tight against Damien's torso. Damien could feel him struggling to keep sucking, to breath, to remember to poke his ass when he was being smothered pretty much.

"Suck it, Tommy, suck it hard. Jesus, fuck!" Damien willed his cock to spring into action. Maybe....just maybe....

 

[tamgreen]

Tommy made a wet choking noise as Damien pushed more aggressively into his mouth. He instinctively tried to back off a little, but was held rigidly in place by Damien's leg. Overwhelmed, he gagged a little, drool spilling down his chin. His eyes streamed reflexive tears, both they and the drool quickly getting lost in the shower spray.

The spark of panic in the boy's eyes didn't last long. His gaze, still glued to the man hissing instructions, encouragements, and profanities at him, turned noticeably stubborn. He pressed forward with his whole body, as determined to give pleasure as he was to prove himself worthy.

Tommy gripped Damien's backside fiercely and reminded himself not to neglect what his fingers could add to this experience - he loved how Damien reacted to ass play, and he put his finger in as far as it would go, fucking in and out several times before adding a second finger and shoving them in hard and fast, watching Damien's reactions all the while.

His thrumming heart felt as if it were glowing in his chest. The eighteen-year-old was obviously struggling, but just as obviously craving the treatment he was getting. Tommy was hugely, foolishly in love, and in this moment he believed with all his might that whatever Damien did to him, even if it was difficult or unpleasant at first, was entirely necessary and lovingly enforced for his edification.

Tommy choked and gagged again, but managed to avoid a coughing fit that would have interrupted his efforts. As he obeyed orders and sucked hard, he felt the man growing larger inside his mouth, even if he still wasn't quite boned up. There was definite progress, albeit slow. Would Damien have the time? Would he have the patience?

 

[ericrodman101]

Damien couldn't believe how his cock was letting him down. Over use, fuck it. And here he was, up to the balls in Tommy's throat, pounding him as hard as he could, Tommy choking and coughing even though his mouth wasn't near full, pinned tight under Damien's leg.

And worrying about the time wasn't helping. Paul would be at the door any time now. Damien was going to be late for the pre-dinner speech, not that he'd prepared anything. Fuck! Still it was just the country club, nothing special, the usual platitudes. He could do it off the cuff.

And in the meantime he had Tommy's face to fuck. Damien grunted, tensed and pushed. Tommy was doing a great job. What is it with this cute little guy? Jesus, I gotta think of a way of getting this again, Damien thought, turning over an idea in his head. Sure he'd been worried about his new friend's apparent complete and utter devotion after only half a day on the end of Damien's cock. But maybe there was a way to keep Tommy close and make sure he didn't say the wrong things to the wrong people, and ensure Damien had twink sex on tap.

It had to be a job on his staff. Damien tried to concentrate, but Tommy was doing something with his tongue that was sending him over the edge. If only Damien's cock would cum to the party and harden the fuck up! Jesus! Paul was looking after recruitment. How to get Tommy's name in front of Paul....

"Man I like what you're doing with your tongue," Damien said, not sure Tommy could even hear him with his mouth full of cock and the water drumming on his head. And fuck, if his cock didn't do its thing soon, Damien was going pull out, reverse positions, kneel down in front of Tommy and suck the 18 year old off. He was sure Tommy's cock wasn't suffering from over use.

Damien pulled out and surveyed his semi-erect cock. He looked down into Tommy's sad face, mouth still open and ready to go again. Damien grabbed his cock and slapped it against Tommy's lips and cheeks.

"One last time, Tommy before I give up," Damien said, feeding his organ back into Tommy's willing mouth.

 

[tamgreen]

When Damien briefly withdrew, Tommy gasped for breath and coughed a few times, rubbing his sore jaw. His big eyes reflected a note of fear - not fear of Damien, but of letting him down. If Damien couldn't get hard, Tommy considered it a personal failure.

So, even though he was feeling close to reaching his physical limits, he opened enthusiastically to receive the beloved cock yet again.

Tommy was a mess of tears, drool, and sopping hair. His wrist was protesting insistently against the unaccustomed strenuous activity of finger-fucking Damien like his life depended on it. He was gagging and choking more and more, and his mouth was feeling so overworked he could hardly keep a seal around the shaft, or continue working his tongue in the way Damien seemed to enjoy so much.

When Damien finally withdrew again, frustrated, Tommy coughed and then sobbed in anguish, sagging back against the shower wall in defeat.

"I'm s-ssorry!" his exhausted mouth slurred between gasps for breath. "I'm no good! I tried... so hard. I...."

He faded away feebly, stopping short of suggesting that he could do better if he had a lot more practice. More practice would involve either being with Damien a lot more - which he didn't want to beg for out of fear of being clingy - or doing this with a lot of other men, which could just be plain old disgusting as well as risky, not to mention it would feel like cheating.

 

[ericrodman101]

Damien reminded himself that Tommy was so young. For all the 18 year old's eagerness and energy and dumb fucking luck, he was not a seasoned man-fucker.Today had been all about total immersion and maybe Tommy was beginning to flag. Be gentle on the kid, Damien said to himself. And don't show your frustration.

Damien knew he wasn't going to cum, much as he wanted to. He withdrew his cock from Tommy's mouth a second time. The water drummed on the shower floor and ran down their bare skin.

Tommy said sorry and sank back against the wall. Damien grabbed him in his arms and kissed Tommy on the lips not expecting much response through the tears and the resignation.

"You've been great, Tommy. Really great. And I've taken advantage of you all day. I'm the one who should be sorry. Not you."

Damien kissed him again and felt Tommy relax, warming to the embrace. Damien reached down and found Tommy's cock. The young guy was still just as hard as he'd been all day. If this wasn't priapism, then Tommy was just a typical 18 year old. Lucky young fuck, Damien thought. If only I could keep it up all day.

"Tell you what..." Damien began, but then thought better of talking. He simply crouched down and took Tommy's cock in his mouth, intending to give Tommy the blow job Damien would have received if he'd been able to rise to the occasion. To Damien's pleasure and surprise, Tommy straightened up a little and leaned into the mouth fuck, putting his hands behind his older lover's head and trying to emulate the way Damien had manipulated him all day. It wasn't skilled, Damien realised, but well intentioned. Teaching Tommy was going to continue to be great fun, he thought, if only he could make sure their lives came together. But that was a project for tomorrow. Now was all about deep throating Tommy, getting the kid to cum hard and strong in Damien's mouth, taking a rain check, and making that speech. And there wasn't much time, Damien was sure, half listening for a knock on the door and wondering how the fuck he'd respond if he heard it.

And all the while Tommy was letting Damien know he was enjoying what his friend was doing, pulling Damien's head onto his cock, pushing a little harder, upping the tempo, pointing this way and that to find different angles inside Damien's mouth. And that extra stroke, Damien detected every now and then, straight back into the top of his throat. Tommy was long and his cock was finding its target occasionally, not quite catching Damien by surprise, but testing his gag reflect all the same.

Damien looked up from the cock spearing his face, trying to make eye contact, but Tommy had his eyes shut.

 

[tamgreen]

Damien's kisses and assurances and even apologies were a soothing balm to Tommy's anguish. His heart lifted once he knew the man wasn't so very disappointed with him, and it wasn't long before the devastated 18-year-old felt sexy and excited once again.

"Omigod...!" he huffed when Damien sank down onto his knees. His heart hammered hard and fast as if it intended to bruise his ribs from the inside. Was he actually getting rewarded, even after failing to get Damien hard?

Tommy moaned and shuddered with pleasure as the warmth of Damien's mouth engulfed him, so hot and soft and skilled. He could hardly resist raking his fingers through Damien's wet hair and thrusting in a little, his fresh young body instinctively following its inbuilt fuck instinct. He followed this a little more when Damien seemed to react positively to it.

"Mmmm... Damien," he panted, letting his eyes shut as he concentrated on the pure sensation. Behind his eyelids, his imagination found purchase, and he pictured himself hiding behind a curtain at one of the big press events he'd seen pictures of in the news stories, getting blown by Damien or blowing him in return, just before Damien would have to go onstage in one of his gorgeous suits and charm the crowds.

"Senator Hale," he growled, finally opening his eyes again, needing to remind himself that what was happening now wasn't just a crazy fantasy. He'd snuck into the senator's hotel room for a secret affair - it was really happening, and it was so goddamned hot.

Damien was looking up at him - really looking at him, not imagining he was some other guy. Tommy groaned louder, overwhelmed, awed, desperately in love, and horny as hell. Fortunately, having cum spectacularly a few times already today, he could actually last more than two minutes.

"Senator Hale," he repeated, this time in an almost reverent whisper, and then, as if tasting the delicious syllable on his tongue, "Fu-uuck."

After taking it slow for a little while he started up thrusting again, digging his fingers into Damien's scalp and panting raggedly.

"Gonna... cum," he gasped, his body beginning to seize up. "Uh... hh... uhhnnh...!"

 

[ericrodman101]

Damien couldn't really explain it. He'd never been called Senator Hale before while he was fucking. Lots of things for sure, but never Senator. For some reason he couldn't fathom in the heat of the moment, why being called Senator by the guy whose cock was in his mouth, was such a turn on, and exceedingly so. The future started flashing through his head as he grabbed Tommy's butt with his hands and held the young guy tight against his face. Fucking in his new office. Fucking in the Capitol. Fucking in the Smithsonian. Fucking in the Mall. Fucking in Airforce One....the series of dreamlike images racing through his brain like ever more crude and explicit porn films.

And in every image was Tommy, sometimes other people too, but always Tommy with his pale skin and long dark hair, and wide-eyed innocence, and long, tasty cock bearing down on him, and then ramming him.

And with his hands digging deep into Tommy's butt, and the cock pushing him to the point of gagging, he felt Tommy's hands on his scalp, tearing at his skin and pulling at his hair, and then felt the 18 year old cum to a panting orgasm. The boy's whole body bucked in Damien's hands, the cock pulsed, Damien instinctively pulled Tommy on tight, and then the flood was unleashed into his gut.

Damien lost count of the number of spurts. It felt like a firehose let loose inside him, swinging and sluicing and filling him with goo. He wanted to cough and spit, to expel the monster. And at the same time he wanted to devour it, to be overwhelmed, to be pile-driven by the cock until it reached down into whatever new place cock had never reached before.

Damien was yelling, Tommy, fuck, Tommy, fuck, aghhhh, fuck. But only in his head. The power of speech had deserted him. There was just cock and cum, cum and cock, and the taste of flesh and semen and spit in his mouth, the scent of Tommy, musky and sweet on his face, the feel of soft skin under his nails.

And when the onslaught began to subside, however slowly, Damien pulled Tommy into him even harder, if that was even possible as he felt faint from lack of oxygen, and ready to puke from the obstruction in his mouth and throat. But the older man was determined to milk every last drop out of the organ assaulting him, to enjoy every throb and spasm and tic, however small.

Finally, it was over. Damien felt Tommy relax, although his cock maintained the length and hardness he was already getting used to. But the 18 year old leaned back now, against Damien's hands still clutching his butt. And little by little, Tommy's cock withdrew, just the head at first releasing its plug-like grip in the top of his throat, then the shaft loosening between his lips, then the mound disengaging with Damien's face.

Damien gasped for air, finally, retching and coughing like a man coming up from the deep. Cum and spit sprayed from his mouth, peppering Tommy's groin and running down Damien's chin. The senator cleared his throat, again and again, until he could speak. But no words came at first. And if they had he would simply have begged Tommy to fuck his throat again.

 

[tamgreen]

Tommy could have sworn he blacked out for a moment or two while the improbably copious load of semen was jetting out of him in spurt after powerful spurt, wracking his body with an ecstasy so strong it was almost an agony. But the place he went wasn't black - it was pure white. Maybe it was heaven. Maybe this was what heaven was. He certainly felt he'd found his salvation, but temporarily, in this position, he could believe he was the god. And what a dutiful, worshipful devotee he had kneeling here before him.

Then Damien seemed to be choking, and Tommy was afraid he'd been far too rough, even though it was hard to deny the older man was pulling him in at least as powerfully as Tommy was thrusting and gripping his scalp. He couldn't miss the fingers digging ferociously into his tender behind, nor the determined furrow of the man's brow as he concentrated on accommodating the 18-year-old's rigid member and veritable flood of cum.

Nevertheless, Tommy was gasping out a hoarse, "Sorry - I'm sorry!" between rapid, shaking breaths. He reached to pet Damien's hair now, soothing and affectionate, wanting to comfort him through the coughing fit.

"Was I rough? I didn't mean to choke you. But I... I'm starting to think I don't need to apologize."

He giggled giddily and pulled on Damien's hand, encouraging him to stand, and wrapped his arms around the man as soon as he was upright. His hands skated up and down Damien's, slick, naked back and ass.

"Thank you, thank you," he whimpered, nuzzling up to Damien's neck. "That was seriously the most epic cum of my life."

Tommy squeezed Damien tightly, shutting his eyes and concentrating on the beautiful sensation of their hearts pounding together.

"And holy crap, you held onto me so hard I think my butt might have bruises tomorrow from your fingers," he whispered. "But fuck it, I'll be proud! I hope I do have bruises I can look at and remember you by. You'll remember me, won't you? And you'll come back again?"

 

[ericrodman101]

Damien was torn. So for Tommy this had been the most epic cum of his life. 'His short 18 year old jerking off life. Jesus. I mean', Damien thought, 'for sure. Epic.' And he wanted to say 'me too', but a little voice in his head said no.

Today had been bliss. Pure unadulterated impure adult fucking bliss. And all this when he had been thinking that his days of anonymous twink fucking might be over. Not that this was anonymous, he reminded himself. Tommy knew who he was and called him senator while they fucked. Now that was the most epic cum-on of Damien's forty-something life.

"Yes, I'll remember you, Tommy. Of course I'll remember you. You're a great little fuck. And there's no way I want this to be the first and last time we meet, but big man, I really gotta go, like a half hour ago."

Damien could see the bedside clock through the open bathroom door. 5.45pm. It was nearly as big a shock as realising he'd fucked a twink in the shower with the door open. 'Jesus, you stupid fuck....'

"Now Tommy, I gotta dry off. You too. Yeah, give me that towel...."

There was a loud knock on the door. Damien froze. Tommy looked like he was going to run.

"No, no, Tommy," Damien said softly, but firmly, wrapping a towel round his young friend, and then one round himself. "Stay here and be very quiet."

Taking a second to make sure Tommy understood, Damien raced across to the door, clad in just a towel and called out.

"Damien, it's Paul."

Damien opened the door. "Sorry, man, I fell asleep. Just towelling off and I'll be right down."

"Susanna's here," Paul said.

Damien's heart skipped. "OK. Downstairs? Does she want to come up to the room?"

"No, she's fine. Talking to some of your donors. Don't be long."

Damien closed the door and raced back to the bathroom. Tommy was sitting naked and forlorn on the edge of the bath, the towel having slipped to the floor. Damien held the boy's head up in his hands and kissed him on the mouth. Tommy responded sadly.

"Like I said, I'm gonna dress and go downstairs. Stay here until I'm gone. I'm gonna leave my business card on the bedside table for you. You keep it and...well...you call me when you're ready. Love you, man. Thanks for everything."

Damien kissed him quickly, feeling Tommy hang on for a moment longer than Damien could afford. Then the senator turned and left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. His suit and shirt were already ironed, and in five minutes Senator Damien Hale was entering the grand ball room to great applause.

 

[tamgreen]

Tommy's heart pounded hard and fast while he listened to Paul and Damien at the door. He'd felt so big and important a few minutes ago, but now he felt small, insignificant, and disposable. He tried not to cry as they said goodbye, knowing Damien had so many vastly more important things in his life than fooling around with a dumb teenager. Knowing he had a wife and family he had to at least keep up appearances with. Knowing his career wouldn't allow him the freedom to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

As for Tommy, he had his own job to preserve, as annoying as it could be. Someday soon he might even be able to get a phone with a decent data plan; further along, a car of his own; and someday, in what seemed like a distant hypothetical future, oh glory, an apartment of his own and no more parents micromanaging his life - finally, there would be some degree of freedom for him. As to what he might do with that freedom, he could no longer imagine. All he could think about was Damien, and how to get more of him. What would he do, stalk the guy? Become some kind of weird political groupie? He knew he couldn't do any of that unless Damien invited it. He couldn't make himself a nuisance, couldn't insinuate himself into the life of someone he couldn't afford to alienate. Everything, his whole life, now seemed to hinge on Damien. Was that beautiful or was it just fucked up?

After the man was gone, Tommy sighed and dried his hair, wiping away a few tears as he went to put his clothes back on. He crawled back into the bed and rooted around for scent memories of their encounter, like a hog after truffles. He found some of Damien's dirty clothes and inhaled them, trying to keep the essence of him familiar in his nostrils. The future would be such a question mark - he had to remember this day with all of his senses.

Finally Tommy picked up the card Damien had left for him on the nightstand.

You can call me when you're ready.

How could Damien say such a thing? When HE was ready? Didn't he know Tommy would be desperate to call, tempted to do so even now when he knew Damien was busy at some fancy dinner party? And later, when he was going home, maybe getting into bed with his wife (his fucking wife for god's sake!)? And first thing in the morning? And every single day?

Yet Tommy felt equally certain he couldn't, and wouldn't call. How could he know when he might be disrupting Damien? Anytime could be a bad time. He'd be a nuisance at best, and at worst, fuck up Damien's career or family.

Tommy's sensitive young fingers fondled the thick, luxurious paper and caressed the richly embossed text. Even Damien's business card was somehow sexy. It was the poshest piece of paper the boy had ever laid his hands on. If he'd been allowed to touch the original goddamned Declaration of Independence or the Mona fucking Lisa with his own hands he wouldn't have felt he were handling anything more important or sacred than what he was handling right now. Before sliding it into his wallet, he took a picture of it, and added Damien's contact information to his phone contacts, and even emailed the information to himself, so even if he somehow lost both his wallet and his phone, he couldn't possibly lose track of this sacred, privileged information.

When he felt he shouldn't stay any longer, Tommy peered through the door's peephole to make sure there was no one in the hallway before slipping away to the elevator, once more ensconced in his hoodie. He texted his mom for a ride home; she said it would be twenty minutes. Without thinking, he followed the hidden employee hallways toward the grand ballroom, needing to see a little of what was happening before he left. He peeked out from one of the side doors and his heart skipped a beat when he saw Damien's handsome profile and dapper suit, and heard his rich, delicious voice. He could drink that voice like hot chocolate, could almost feel it pouring into his ears and warming him all the way down.

His eyes shifted to the woman standing with Damien - his wife, Susanna. She was pretty in a generic, magazine cover sort of way, and dressed accordingly. He decided he was a little afraid of her Did she know? Did she suspect? Would she be mad? Exasperated? Hurt? Tommy didn't want to hurt anyone.

But of course he wasn't hurting her. Damien had been quite clear about the "understanding" he had with his wife, presuming he'd told the truth. They both fucked whomever they pleased.

But Tommy decided he'd rather ignore this fact. The same fantasy that had him fucking Damien behind the curtains at a press event saw him stealing this woman's husband, flouting their marriage, climbing all over Damien while imagining how furious and horrified she would be.

I'm fucking your husband, lady, he projected in her direction, smirking beneath his hood. He loves MY mouth, and my dick. I'm a bad, bad boy and your man wants ME. When you kiss him, will you be tasting my cum?

This fantasy was making him horny all over again, which wasn't a great situation when he was expecting to get in the car with his mom in a few minutes. He'd have to save his fantasies for bedtime.

Finally, Tommy had to head out to the parking lot for his ride home. However, when he spotted a familiar car pulling up, it was his dad and not his mom. This was unusual. He slid into the passenger seat warily.

"Hey... what happened to mom?" he asked.

"She got a phone call from her sister. You're welcome for putting my work aside and going out of my way to give you a ride, by the way."

"I was getting to that," Tommy muttered, resenting the hell out of this typical passive aggressive parent bullshit. He didn't ask to be born, and he didn't want to keep living under their roof, but of course they had to make him feel like he was constantly in their debt and he had better throw them a fucking parade for every little thing he imagined other people did for their families willingly out of love.

"Thanks for the ride," he forced out, not wanting any lectures. A moment later, he added, "You really didn't have to go out of your way. I always have the option of taking the bus. Mom just didn't want me to. She wanted to pick me up."

"Don't use your mother as an excuse for your bad attitude!"

"I'm not, I...."

Tommy's feeble protest faded into a sigh as he stared out the window at the trees, buildings, and cars whipping by. If he threw the door open now and just pulled a tuck-and-roll, what were the chances he'd die? How he wanted to just run off somewhere and call Damien to save him.

He bet Damien wasn't an obnoxious, overbearing parent who made his kids feel guilty for every minute of their existence.

"Well, what's on your mind?" his father pressed.

He wanted to ask why his dad was suddenly so interested when he never seemed to give a fuck what Tommy thought or felt so long as he wasn't being troublesome. Instead he bit his tongue. He might as well keep the peace and tell dad what he wanted to hear.

"Just work - they've been really pushing me lately, and I'm doing my best to be up to the task," he said, manufacturing some weariness in his tone. He smiled privately at how his spontaneously cobbled together bullshit could be a double entendre if one was looking for it.

"I guess I'm learning a lot about responsibility and hard work," he continued. Yeah - dad would eat this up. "It's not easy. I'm doing a lot I've never done before, and it's taking a lot out of me, but I'm pretty satisfied with what I've been able to accomplish. And my customer service skills are actually being appreciated."

He hid his grin by looking out the side window.

"Yeah?" Dad sounded interested.

Tommy could have laughed out loud. Oh, if only he knew. "Yeah. I'm actually sore from everything I had to do today. This guy had me out on the golf course and he was kinda merciless at first... and I had to fill in at the hotel a couple times. Some guys have really specific needs. I'm really getting the hang of it, though, dad, and they show their appreciation. The tips have been great. It's nice to know I'm good at something."

"Hmm," dad grunted. "Would be nice if you could take that positive, helpful, hardworking attitude home with you, kiddo."

Oh, is that what you want, dad? Is that what you really want? Are you SURE?

He was helpless to hold back a little snort in the course of stifling his laughter.

"What was that? You okay?"

"Sure, dad," Tommy said placidly, grinning at the window. "I just... almost sneezed."

"You shouldn't suppress sneezes. You can rupture an eardrum or even your throat that way. Best to just let loose."

"Let loose, huh? I guess I should." Tommy pressed a fist against his mouth, warding off another temptation toward giggles.


That night, when he was finally tucked into bed and his parents were almost certainly asleep, Tommy stripped down and looked up some pictures of Senator Hale on the internet. Certainly that wouldn't alert the content filters his parents had set up, and it sure got his motor running. He licked his hand until it was nice and wet with his saliva and started stroking his rapidly hardening cock. After a long period of leisurely edging himself, he slathered his fingers in plenty more spit and splayed his legs wide. He reached down to find his tight little hole and started rubbing and then pushing in. If he had a chance of being with Damien again, he wanted to be prepared. He wanted to be able to handle something up his ass - specifically, the cock of Senator Damien Hale.

Once he'd pushed past his body's initial protest against the invasion, he rapidly discovered just how much fun a prostate could be - he ended up making such a mess all over his naked front that he had to snap a picture. He looked like a white Jackson Pollock.

A gleeful temptation arose to send the picture to Damien. God - could he actually do something like that? He didn't want to get him in any bad situations.

After a few minutes of hemming and hawing and checking the time and wondering if Damien would be asleep, he sent a text message:

hi... are you awake? guess who...

 

[ericrodman101]

His speech was well received. And why not? Damien had won in a landslide. Even his most ardent opponents respected his political skills. Which meant he had so much to lose.....and kept reminding himself to stay on message, smile, look at the faces, shake the hands, laugh, keep smiling, names, remember the names, smile....and all the while he could taste Tommy in his mouth.

Tommy's cum in his mouth. Tommy's cum in his stomach. He'd be shitting Tommy's cum soon....it was all bodily fluids with Damien, all shit and cum and spit....smile, names, smile....oh god, the taste of that young cock, the feel of it between his lips, poking the back of his mouth, filling his throat, punching and pushing and pulsing. The speech, the faces, the accolades were all just superficial shit compared with what he'd been enjoying upstairs with Tommy.

"Well done," Paul said.

"Thanks to you,"Damien said, talking to his friend while keeping eye contact on the faces in the room.

"You must have needed a sleep," Paul said. "You were up there for hours."

Damien was forced to look Paul in the eyes. Was he making fun? Must have needed sleep? If anyone knew what Damien was up to it would be Paul. He knew everything. Why bring him to a country club staffed by beautiful naive young men and then leave him alone in his room? For all Damien knew Paul had organised for Tommy to enter his room and find him naked. It's what good friends did. In politics at least.

But no, not a hint of cynicism in Paul's eyes. Nothing to suggest there was more than one meaning for his words. Jesus, I'm turning into a crazed fucker.

And then there was Susanna. She'd been working the room when he arrived. God she was beautiful. Blonde and svelte and a smile that melted the most hard bitten bastards. He'd started the speech before she joined him at the table. He'd watched her meander back up the room, among the tables, all swinging hips and smooth flowing gown, a little too much cleavage maybe, but it was a room full of old golfers. They'd have been happier with a stripper, he thought, but Susanna comes close.

And then when he'd finished and the applause erupted, she'd stood and kissed him. The crowd loved it. Full on the lips. Lingering just a moment before turning and holding his hand high in a victory salute.

The kiss had taken him by surprise. Why? What was more natural than a political wife kissing her husband in his moment of triumph? He'd been thinking of Tommy, of course. Damien's mouth was dry after speaking, but glazed with Tommy's cum. He'd reached down for his glass, but there was Susanna, fucking Susanna planting her lips on his, contacting the spit on his lips, sharing the goo in his mouth, smelling it, tasting it. God, the look on her face. The briefest moment of alarm and then realisation. And then the disgust. She knew what cum tasted like. Oral had been her special skill at college when they'd met. And he wasn't her first. Cockette, they called her at college, how she hated to be reminded. If there was one thing Susanna never failed to detect it was the smell and taste of cum. Which is why he was usually so careful. Just not this time. And in front of an applauding crowd he'd kissed her with his unrinsed mouth reeking of an 18 year old's cum.

And worst of all, he might have rinsed his mouth. But Paul had interrupted him, and Tommy was still in the bathroom, and he'd hurried and walked straight into the speech. And....

And Damien didn't give a fuck. So what? He loved the lingering taste of Tommy in his mouth, even now as it mingled with Susanna's scent. His mouth was dry and his glass was touching his bottom lip. But no. He put the glass down. Dry mouth was fucking fine. For Tommy.

Damien watched Susanna swing back across he room, no doubt heading for the ladies room to rinse her mouth.

It was no surprise when Susanna decided to go home and not stay the night. There was no chance for them to be alone. The tirade, the verbal flagellation about whose cum was in his mouth, would have to wait. She went through the motions of being the adoring wife, and then farewelling him. With that look reserved just for him. And the whispered 'you fucking pig'.

Susanna had to leave early, Damien said repeatedly as he worked the room. The babysitter. The girls, you know. And one stupid fucking old golfer, drunk as a lord, told him 'The Babysitter' was his favourite porn vid. Sasha Grey, he said. That blowbang. Watch it whenever the wife's at bridge. With the sound up loud. I'd love to get my cock into her. Make her gag. Jesus!

It was a long evening and when it was finally over, Damien returned to his room. The bed had been made, and the bathroom cleaned and cleared. You got that with higher end hotels. He tried to remember whether he'd left cum everywhere and how long before some fucking gap-toothed maid with dandruff and an ass like a bus, sold her story to the National Enquirer. 'Senator in cum drenched gay orgy'.

Damien lay back on the sheet, naked. His hand went instinctively to his cock. The veins in his head thumped. Sunday already. Was Tommy working Sunday? What had he said? Call me when you're ready...was that it?

His phone, on the bedside table, pinged. Look at it or not? Just turning over with his aching head was enough. The faint light from the screen burned his eyes in the dark. Damien rolled over, enjoying the pressure on his cock, and checked his phone. A text....

'hi... are you awake? guess who...'

Jesus...Tommy...who else...Jesus. Do I respond? Damien was sore and drunk, and disappointed to be on his own and only semi-erect. Tommy. Here at the hotel? Please god.

He texted back....'awake and hard for you'.