11 - An Evening’s Direction
Tristan Chase-Morgan
As Miles claimed his lips, the nervous anxiety of Tristan's teenaged self broke open to joy and longing.
His desire was reciprocated. He couldn't help but whimper as he wrapped his arms around Miles's neck, needing more.
Miles's fingers tightened possessively on the small of his back, urging Tristan's lips to part with a flick of the tongue, and it sent a rush of heat straight to his core.
Part of him ached for nothing more than to submit to anything and everything Miles could ever desire of him.
He'd never been sure whether the kisses he'd remembered had only been a kindness.
A consolation prize from someone who didn't want him, something to remember Miles by.
But there was no question of Miles's desire now.
He kissed like Tristan's kisses were more important than breathing, pulling him inescapably into the warm strength of his body.
Tristan couldn't help but squirm closer, aching for more sensation. The intoxicating hardness of Miles's cock pressed into his thigh, and if Miles had asked to take him right then, he might have stripped down and begged for it.
"Good boy," Darren murmured, cuddling against Miles's side. "Let him taste your sweet lips just like that. I've ached to find someone just like you for him, little bunny... such a sweet, obedient sub. So shy... beautifully innocent."
How on earth did Darren know exactly what he needed to hear?
Tristan couldn't help but sob with desire, trembling in Miles's embrace.
Miles's broad hand rubbed restlessly up his thigh, searing even though his slacks.
"Touch him," Darren urged softly. He covered his husband's hand with his own, urging it towards the straining ridge of Tristan's arousal.
"He's been so brave for you, Miles, hasn't he?
So truthful when he was so nervous and frightened. He deserves to feel good."
"Wanna make you feel so good, sweetheart," Miles breathed, cupping him through his slacks. "God, Tristan..."
His simple touch left Tristan so hard he could barely think. He sucked at Miles's bottom lip helplessly, hips canting up into his grip. "Mmmm!"
"That's it," Darren purred. His hand was over Miles's, guiding him to palm and caress his constrained hardness.
Then, he started to unbutton Tristan's shirt, caressing his stomach and chest. "Slowly.
Your sweet bunny has never done this before...
but he's yearned for his friend's big brother for so long. "
A soft, strangled noise escaped Miles's throat, free hand digging into Tristan's hip as he palmed him through his slacks eagerly. "Oh fuck, Dare..."
Darren pinched and teased his nipple as he nuzzled Miles's ear.
His voice was low, but loud enough for Tristan to hear.
"He's so turned on by you, so beautifully needy for you.
You can go a bit farther. Let's introduce sweet Tristan to third base.
He'll let you; he aches for you to touch him.
Undo those proper slacks slowly... if he doesn't stop you, that means he wants it. "
Did he ever. Tristan tried to catch his breath, dizzy in the wake of Miles's kisses. He clutched at his back as his old friend traced his fingers up the length of Tristan's erection and around the button of his slacks.
"I really shouldn't." Miles nuzzled his jaw, breath hot and voice helpless. It made Tristan moan again. "Oh God, he's so sweet. I can't take advantage of him."
"It's alright, you're not," Darren assured, gently sliding a hand down to undo the button on Tristan's slacks.
"You're not going to make him come, you're not doing anything dirty.
Just giving him a small reward. Slide your hand into his underwear.
Just hold his hard cock for him. He's been such a good boy, haven't you, Tristan? "
"Ohh - !" Tristan couldn't answer, moaning at the rush of pleasure as Miles's fingers pushed inside his underwear, cupping his shaft.
He buried his face in the crook of Miles's neck, sucking at his skin with a keening moan.
If this had happened back then, he would have come undone in an instant from the merest hint of his fantasies coming to light.
As it was, every part of him screamed to rut up against Miles's palm until he found his release.
"Tristan." Miles cleared his throat, making an obvious attempt to speak calmly. "Answer us, little bunny. Have you been a good boy for me? You found yourself such a nice husband, such a good job..."
"Yes," Tristan gasped out, keening, shuddering at the gentle shift of Miles's fingers over his arousal. He squirmed more in his lap, trying to push into his hand and grind against the ridge of Miles's erection simultaneously. "Yes, I've been good. Please - please, Sir, I can't - it's so good - !"
Even in the constraints of his underwear, Miles managed to run his thumb over his tip, slicking through his arousal and rubbing it down the sensitive underside of his shaft. His breath was as ragged as Tristan's, the thick ridge in his jeans pushing into Tristan's soft inner thigh. "Dare, please?"
"Not tonight, my love." Darren's response was gentle, but firm. "Soon. But not tonight. That's enough now."
Unquestioning, Miles withdrew his hand. The loss of contact pulled a needy sob from Tristan's throat.
Surprisingly, it was Darren who nuzzled his ear with a soothing hum.
"It's alright, little bunny. I know how badly you want him.
I know how it feels to need him so badly that it hurts.
I'll help you be a good boy." He drew one of Tristan's hands from around Miles's neck, pulling it down and closing it around his own, aching arousal.
"Touch yourself for me, alright? You want to behave for both Leander and Miles, don't you? "
Tristan palmed his erection helplessly, biting his lip on a moan. "Yes, Sir. I do."
"Wonderful. Then let me give you a taste of what I did to your husband at that party." Voice low with promise, Darren kissed under his ear and then drew away. "Miles, perhaps you should ask Tristan to show you what he did when he used to fantasize about you?"
Miles drew a shaky breath. He gripped Tristan's hips, thumbs drawing restless circles on them. "Lean back, little bunny. I want you to kneel over my lap and take your cock out for me. Then I want you to show me what you used to do when you thought about me."
Tristan's face burned, part of him wishing the ground would open up and swallow him. But he obeyed without question. Straddling Miles's lap, he freed himself from his underwear with trembling fingers. "Sir, I... I shouldn't."
"Why not?" Miles's voice was gentle, though when Tristan didn't answer, he took hold of his chin, tilting it upwards. "Look at me, Tristan. Why not?"
Despite their play, the emotions felt so real. The concern in Miles's gaze was real. Tristan's words stuck in his throat.
"Your Master asked you a question, little bunny." Darren's response was once again stern despite its warmth. "Come on now. It's alright. You can trust him. You can tell him."
"It was... dirty," Tristan managed. He couldn't keep hold of Miles's gaze. "It was wrong."
"Do you really think so?" Miles's eyebrows knit together, more concerned. "Tristan, if you don't want to..."
"It's not wrong now," Darren reassured gently. "Come on, Tristan. Be a good boy and stroke yourself for your new Master. Tell him about your fantasies. You can close your eyes if it's easier."
Tristan hung his head, biting his lip on a moan as he curled his fingers around himself. The number of times he'd imagined Miles sneaking into bed with him, or cornering him in the shower when he was wet and naked and helpless.... What on earth would Miles think?
He had to come up with something respectable. "I... I used to imagine us, um... going parking. What it might be like to be on top of you like this. Or... mmm... or if you, um, pinned me down under you." The thought of being helpless under the strength of his body made his cock pulse in his grip.
Miles's fingers dug into his hips, a strangled groan escaping his throat. "Fuck..."
"Show him how hard that makes you," Darren groaned, pushing a hand between them to yank Miles's jeans undone. "Reward him, Miles. And take off your shirt."
Miles did so without hesitation, putting his incredible body on display.
Darren had already pulled down Miles's jock to free his cock, even bigger now that they were close, slick with arousal.
"It makes me so goddamn hard." Miles wrapped a hand around his straining shaft, his words surprisingly helpless. "God, Tristan..."
"Good boy," Darren groaned. Tristan wasn't sure which one of them he was praising, but from Miles's moan, it was clearly just as effective on him.
Darren ran a hand down Tristan's back to grab his ass firmly, encouraging him to rock into his own fist. "I'll let you both live out that fantasy, I promise.
Think about it now. And about how pretty your husband was for me earlier when I had him jerk off for me in the garden.
Imagine how turned on he's going to be watching Miles fuck you, how much pleasure you'll give him. Do you want that?"
The mental image was as intoxicating as watching the head of Miles's cock disappear into his fist as he stroked himself.
"So much," Tristan managed to whimper. The back of his hand brushed Miles's as he worked his own cock helplessly.
It seemed too amazing to be true, and yet, could he trust himself with Miles after everything that had happened?
"You're going to make Leander so happy," Darren continued, nipping at the edge of Tristan's ear.
"Your beautiful man is desperate to watch my big, strong husband claim your hot little ass.
Maybe tomorrow night we can go out to your garage and play?
Miles can fuck you in the backseat of your car just like you imagined, and I'll bend your sexy whore of a husband over so he can watch through the window. Would you like that?"
Pleasure surged in a rush, and Tristan sobbed, trembling, riding the edge of a powerful orgasm. He couldn't look away from how Miles jerked in his grip, flushed, slick, and shining with his arousal. "Sir, please... oh God, please - I can't - !"
"Ask me," Miles panted. His words were rough, clearly as on edge as Tristan was. "Be a good boy. Look at me and - and ask me for permission to come."
Miles's pupils were blown wide, breath ragged between parted lips.
Looking into his eyes left Tristan flayed raw: too close, too intimate to survive.
But he couldn't look away. And he had to obey.
"Please," Tristan managed, shuddering, body screaming with the need for release.
"Sir - Miles, please - ahhh, please may I come? "
"Fuck yes. Do it. Oh God, come for me!" Miles groaned, low and soul-deep, eyes falling briefly closed as he shaking underneath him.
A hot, slick jet of his seed landed on Tristan's fingers.
Miles was coming and Tristan's body answered.
The world blacked out around him to the pleasure that crashed over him, pulling him helplessly under to tumble like a wave on the shore.
He was obeying and he'd made Miles come.
The knowledge of both was too much to hold at once. He buried his face in Miles's neck again with a cry. Letting go, he pulled every rush of sensation from him in helpless jerks, everything fading but the deep gratification of having Miles cover his chest and stomach with his seed.
Panting, Miles kissed his temple, arm tight around him, and his breath hot against Tristan's skin. "Good boy," he groaned, shuddering. "Oh, God... you're such a good boy for us. God... Tristan..."
Despite barely being able to breathe, Tristan yielded, whimpering into his lips as Miles kissed him. He'd made Miles come. He never wanted to stop kissing him. The thought of what might come next for them was more thrilling than he'd ever imagined. And more terrifying.
"It's alright," Darren murmured, stroking his back. "You did so well, little bunny. Both of you did so well for each other. Just breathe. I'm so proud of you both."
The warmth in Darren's voice helped soothe his uncertainty. The soft kisses Miles pressed to his face soothed him more. "Such a good boy," Miles murmured in agreement. "Thank you, Tristan. Thank you for being so obedient for me."
Tristan managed to nod, focusing on drawing slow, deep breaths. He had to believe Miles meant what he said. At least for tonight. Anything else they could figure out tomorrow.
~~~