The Senator's Boy (closed for tamgreen)

When the knock had sounded, Tommy could just about have pissed himself. He scarcely breathed as he grabbed his clothes and dashed into the bathroom, trying for all the world to remain silent as he coaxed his appearance into some semblance of order. The idea of being caught at something naughty wasn't what scared him - what really terrified him, and effectively chased away his lingering erection, was the idea of losing his job over this, his parents finding out why, and most of all, causing trouble in the life of this extraordinary man, Damien.

"Damien," he silently mouthed, tasting the name of his lover.

He grinned like an idiot when Damien complimented him and touched his hair. He wished desperately that he could stay, but neither of their lives would wait. Would they cross paths again? Tommy longed for it, but at the same time sort of hoped it wouldn't happen again - what business did he have taking such risks, when he needed this job so badly? And he had no idea how to be a lover - it seemed like dumb luck that Damien had enjoyed his clumsy fumblings at all, and maybe he was lying about that anyway. If they continued at this, surely the man would become exasperated with him. Tommy wasn't sure how many lines he was capable of crossing.

He went back to his intended task, pausing in the next room to examine his reflection in the mirrored closet door, and then noticed the lewd cowlick Damien had left him with. He giggled to himself, relieved that no one had seen him in this state and wishing he could stay this way, tacitly advertising his exploits. Instead he hurried into the bathroom and washed up.

Soon he returned to Damien's room, crawling back into the abandoned bed and smelling the sheets and pillows, inhaling everything Damien. He was turned on again, almost unbearably so. The man was like a drug - so bad for him, but he craved more. He undid his shorts and dry humped Damien's pillow, watching himself in the mirror as he did so. Was he actually sexy? Could he be this guy?

He masturbated heatedly and sprayed his load all over the sheets before gathering them up and depositing them with secret satisfaction in the laundry trolley.

Only then did the girl from housekeeping who he was covering arrive, nearly an hour late and apologizing profusely. His heart still thumping in the wake of his latest orgasm, Tommy told her it was no problem. As he descended in the elevator, he mused on how different things might have turned out if she had arrived on time. He laughed, realizing that his own co-workers might be cleaning up his cum.

Would Damien be playing golf by now, with his best friend Paul? Not bothering to check in with his supervisor, who was always hard to find anyway, Tommy hurried to the golf course to find someone who might need a caddy. He was snapped up by a semi-retired stockbroker with a tidy salt-and-pepper beard who seemed always to be licking his lips when Tommy made eye contact with him. Tommy put on the usual act that earned him tips, but this time he felt distant. His mind remained on the events of this morning, and the scent of Damien seemed to linger in his nostrils.

Damien played out of the rough again. "What's put you off your game?" Paul asked as Damien trudged back to meet him and the other two guys. Damien shrugged. Paul had introduced the two tycoons, but uncharacteristically, Damien had forgotten their names. Faking sincerity was one of the things he was best at, but today his political skills were as elusive as his golfing ones.

"Bill was telling me about some new recycling process," Paul said. "Sounds right up your alley. Could be a good angle for Washington."

Damien nodded, set up his shot, found the flag, and put it into the rough again. He waved at his golf partners and sloped off into the trees again.

What was Tommy doing now? Tommy. Jesus. What a find. What a morning. His hard-on had been so hard to disguise in the slacks he wore. Had they all thought he'd developed a stoop during the night? A limp?

He scratched around in the long grass looking for his ball, but all he could think about was Tommy. Tommy's lips on his. Tommy's cock in his mouth. Tommy's sweet sperm in his throat. And taking Tommy's cherry. Well, his mouth cherry. if only he could count on taking Tommy's ass cherry later.

The problem was asking about Tommy. Chasing younger guys was one thing on tour, or on his own, or even just taking risks at night. But chasing them at a country club with Paul around, was asking for trouble. And yet even just thinking about the risk made him hard again.

He found a tree, hid from his playing partners, leaned his back against it and rubbed his cock through his pants. He was so hard, so ready to fuck, to cum again, it hurt.

And why Tommy? Why was this guy so special? Damien weighed this up. Was he special? Or was Damien just bored? Or worse? Scared? Scared that his new life would make finding pleasure so much harder. Scared that he was getting older, and making and taking opportunities wouldn't always be as easy as it had been. Scared that Tommy felt special when he was just another hot young twink who'd opened his mouth for Damien, been spunked on and in, and moved on, never to cross paths again.

Damien looked down. His cock was out and hard in his hands. He hadn't even realised he was doing it, yet here he was. Married man. Father of two. Senator for Maryland. Standing in the trees in public, only yards away from other golfers. Any moment Paul would call to him, or worse, find him, standing here like some over-sexed teenager jerking off.

Was Damien oversexed? All this analysis. Fuck! Just jerk it. Just stroke. Just cum.....

The creamy goo streamed from Damien's organ, pulsing into the warm morning air, spraying onto the grass, jerk and release and jerk again. Damien leaned back against the tree, letting himself relax into the orgasm, enjoying the warmth of his hand as he milked the last drops onto the ground, then into his palm. Fuck, if only Tommy had been there to take his load, to relieve the urge, to open his mouth and suck him to orgasm and then drain his cock. Tommy.....

Damien heard Paul behind him at the same time as he saw another group playing up the next fairway. Three old guys and a caddy. He put his cock away, looking down to make sure he hadn't soiled himself, then wiped his hand against the tree. Then stepping into the sun he waved to Paul, now much too close. Damien could already see the quizzical look on his friend's face.

And then Damien heard another voice. Calling 'Tommy'. He turned. The other group were level with him now. And there was Tommy coming towards him. The familiar innocent look, the tight white polo shirt and shorts, the dark hair flopping over his fresh face. 'The ball's over in those trees, Tommy'. The boy turned and waved, then came on towards him.

Damien stepped out from the tree and faced Paul. "Can't find it," he called. "I'll have another look. You play on." He watched Paul wave and return to their group, before turning back. Tommy was standing in the shade.

Tommy was finding it wretchedly tiresome to follow the group of old men around the course. The old stockbroker asked Tommy to just call him "Mister", which for some reason amused his colleagues greatly, and the young man ended up feeling more like he was being teased than flirted with. Even when old Mister breathed down his neck while selecting a club or found some excuse to brush up against his butt, Tommy actually felt a little grossed out. The guy wasn't even good-looking, and he had some sort of cologne on that reminded Tommy of bug spray. Not to mention the way he talked down to him, as if it were three hundred years ago and Tommy was his servant.

He wondered how he'd react if Mister asked him to come to his hotel room - would he do it, and drool all over the guy's dick and act like he loved it, for a big enough tip? He wasn't some kind of a prostitute. Damien hadn't given him money for whatever this morning was.

Not that he'd have said no to money - somehow in Damien's case that wouldn't have bothered him. In fact, it would be weirdly sexy. Plus, he really badly needed the money.

But this jackass stockbroker guy? No, Tommy wanted nothing to do with his dick, and money wouldn't change that. He was growing in knowledge of his own power as well as his own limitations. If he played his hand right with Mister, he might be able to master the fine art of always leave them wanting more. He could make the man believe he could get lucky, fill his pockets with tips, and never have to touch the guy. After all, he did get the sense that many of the men around here with wandering eyes were after a fantasy, not a reality.

And then there was Damien. Oh god, Damien! Tommy bit the inside of his cheek hard to stave off the flood of intense lust that came with the memory of their encounter, and the man's tender yet firm instruction.

Swallow now like a good boy.

It's easy and natural and beautiful.

Don't be shy.

Fuck! If these words were a buffet he'd gorge himself until he burst. How was Damien so goddamned sexy?

He appreciated at least one thing about his current group of men - they were efficient about their golf and played through a few groups by the time Tommy got his wish. His heart skipped a beat when he heard Damien's familiar voice through the trees.

"I think I saw where it went, sir," he called back to Mister. "I'll have a look over here."

Thump, thump, thump, went his heart. Here he was suddenly, albeit temporarily, alone beneath the trees with Damien just steps away from him. It was a surreal experience seeing him now outside and fully dressed. He was no less sexy.

There were so many things Tommy wanted to say to Damien right now, and he wished he were better with words.

"Hi," he managed shyly, taking a few more steps closer to the man. There was obvious caution in his posture and tone, suggesting he wasn't sure if he were allowed to approach Damien or even speak to him. He glanced around to make absolutely sure no one else was too close.

"I came on your sheets before changing them," were the soft words that tumbled out next as his cheeks turned red. "Am I a very bad boy for doing that, and for stalking you a little?"

Jesus, Damien thought. Maybe Tommy isn't some young virgin I've just deflowered. Cumming on the sheets. He's talking like some twink pro sent here to make me crazy.

They stood together in the deep shade. Damien could hear the voices of people on the course, but for a moment couldn't see anyone. They were alone.

"Well Tommy, you are a very naughty boy."

Damien opened his mouth to say more, but no words came. For one of the few times in his life he was lost. The idea flashed through his head that if he could only go back a day or two, he could decline to be the candidate and just be with Tommy somewhere, just fuck and be fucked, teach Tommy about love and sex and what made him happy.

But he knew it was crazy. He didn't know Tommy before the election. And now, what choices did he have?

"I came just now thinking about you, Tommy. Just now, here under these trees. I took my cock out and jerked myself off, wishing my cock was in your mouth and you were looking up at me with your beautiful sad eyes and....and just making me happy. What do you think of that?"

Damien swooned as he watched Tommy go red and look down. He was so beautiful and desirable Damien wanted to kiss him, here in the shadows. Kiss, and feel Tommy's mouth on his, his warm body against him, run his fingers through Tommy's long dark hair, and....fuck! This was no good.

He reached out with both hands and pulled Tommy to him. The younger guy relaxed into the embrace, any reticence or uncertainty gone. Damien put his hand under Tommy's chin and pulled his face up to meet his own. They kissed.

"So you came on my sheets, you naughty boy. You know what that means? I'm going to have to cum on yours."

Tommy's face was very, very warm. He could feel his insides quivering with nervousness and excitement as he gauged Damien's reaction to what he'd done. Part of him expected he'd vastly overstepped by trying to continue this little affair after their spontaneous morning play, and it was with relief and intense arousal that he received Damien's confession of what he'd done not a minute ago. His cheeks went even hotter, and he managed to feel terribly bashful even while he felt validated.

"You were thinking of me?" he whispered. "My mouth... even my eyes? Really? Omigod, that's so hot and... sweet."

His heart seemed to be near to bursting in his chest, especially when Damien pulled him close and kissed him. His mouth was soft and yielding, his body melting into the older man's, warm, young, excitable, pliable. His cock was now poking at Damien, irresistibly aroused at the knowledge this man had been so overcome by lust for him that he'd had to interrupt his golf game and hide in the woods to give himself relief. It was so thrilling Tommy could just about scream, but now was the time to be very, very quiet.

He trembled at what Damien whispered to him next. He pictured Damien in his very own bed at home, making a great big mess on his sheets, and his cock throbbed, dampening his underpants.

"God I want that so much," Tommy exhaled, desperate fingertips digging into Damien's back, holding him so tightly as if he meant for their bodies to meld together. He giggled softly against Damien's neck. "I don't know that my mom and dad would be very happy about it, though. I'd sneak you in through my window if I could."

He pressed his hips against Damien's, not so much emboldened to push things further as unable to hold back his primal physical instincts.

"I could cum so quick, right now, if you helped me," he whispered, mashing his lips against Damien's again and pushing his tongue in, trying to get more of a taste of him. He felt desperately thirsty for him - for his cum, his sweat, the clean, masculine scent of him, the warmth of him, the touch of his expert hands and mouth, his body, even his saliva.

Damien was thrilled at Tommy's openness and apparent readiness to take their relationship further. But there were rules too, especially around managing risks and who was in charge. A cocky twink was a dream come true. But one who talked too much, or didn't know when to come on strong and when to hold back, was an accident waiting to happen.

Damien the student who fucked twinks, the graduate who fucked twinks, the intern who fucked twinks, well, no one gave a damn. He was just another ambitious preppy gay guy with exotic tastes in young men. And the legal partner who fucked twinks was a matter for discretion. But the candidate who fucked twinks was a risk management exercise. And the senator who fucked twinks was a ticking time bomb. Damien understood that. It was a reality which he couldn't avoid. The question was could he let his bent go if it got too risky. Or keep it hidden, and for how long?

Too much analysis, he said to himself as Tommy pressed into his embrace. He could feel the boy's cock through his shorts, poking his thigh.

"Help me cum," Tommy said, kissing Damien aggressively. The older man loved it, desired it, savoured the passion and the power of the younger man. But there was a time and place. If they'd been alone, Damien would have thrown Tommy to the ground and taken his virgin ass without a second thought. But he could hear voices and the thwack of club against ball, all around. What they were doing was madness.

Still, there was one opportunity he could take.

"So you want to cum, Tommy, do you?" Damien grabbed the boy with both arms, spun him round and pushed his face against the tree trunk. Then holding tight and pressing his body into his young friend's, Damien pulled the boy's shorts down, and then his briefs. He ran his hands firmly over the round ass, pushing his fingers into the soft flesh, all the while nibbling Tommy's ear and then his face as the boy bent his head back to give Damien access.

Holding Tommy tightly by the neck, Damien reached down with his free hand, running his fingers roughly down Tommy's ass crack until he found the boy's ass hole. And then, grinding Tommy between his body and the tree, Damien pushed his fingers into the boy's anus, first one finger, straight like a rod, then crooked so he could feel about, then a second finger doing the same. He felt Tommy tense, draw breath, gasp in surprise, recoil and relax onto the finger, and then repeat as Damien ramped up the assault.

"Tommy," Damien said, "I really want us to get to know each other, everything about us, everything that makes you and me happy. I really want to fuck you, Tommy. Not just with my fingers, but with my cock. And I want you to fuck me. Do you understand? Not just suck cock. Not just with our mouths. I want to feel you inside, Tommy. I want to fuck your ass."

Tommy was breathing heavily and Damien hoped he wasn't scaring the 18 year old. But it was too late to withdraw, too late to go back. He let go of Tommy's neck and felt for his cock with his free hand. Tommy was hard. There was no time for love making. No time for being gentle and considerate. Damien gripped his young friend's cock from behind and tugged him roughly to a rapid orgasm.

The moment Tommy found himself pressed roughly against the tree and his underpants shoved down, a sharp panic rose up. What the hell was he doing here? What sort of foolish, dangerous game was he playing? He had no idea what he was getting into, he didn't know this man, and he was certainly not intending to be fucked by a stranger! What if he wasn't given a choice? It would be his own fault - maybe he was nothing but a cocktease, and he was going to pay dearly for it. That would be a hell of a way to lose his virginity. He'd just wanted a little extra taste, a little hair of the dog, and now there were fingers being shoved right up his tender backside! He wasn't ready for...

"Oohhh...," he sighed, finding himself even against his own instincts yielding, melting into Damien's touches and nibbles and kisses and warm breath and low whisperings.

He was hard, as hard as the tree in front of him, so hard and throbbing for release, and the sensation in his butt was red hot pain but also pleasure, and he was so full, and oh! Damien was reaching so deep inside him!

Even as all of this pleasure at the new experience flooded his body, the panic and anxiety remained, and the feeling of being sandwiched between ecstasy and terror was maddening.

I want to fuck your ass.

Tommy whimpered. Oh shit - was he going to do it right here, right now?!

But no - Damien wasn't putting anything else up his butt. He was jerking him hard and fast, and Tommy couldn't have held back if he tried - after a few more rapid breaths, he stiffened in Damien's arms and stifled his groans as a fresh load dribbled out over the older man's fist, and a few droplets spattered across the tree bark.

The moment Tommy felt Damien's grip on him ease up, he squirmed away, yanking up his shorts and underwear as he struggled to catch his breath. He combed his hair back with his fingers, trying to coax some order into it as he stood a few paces apart from Damien, staring at him with wonder, wariness, and lust all tangled together.

Had Damien really said he wanted them to know each other, as well as fuck? What did this mean, for a married man? A secret boyfriend? Tommy felt conflicting instincts to run away and run back into Damien's arms. He stood indecisive and hyperalert, like a cat not knowing whether to go in or out.

"Did you mean what you said or was it just to get me off fast?" he whispered urgently as he heard the sounds of other golfers approaching.

Much as Damien wanted to go further, there was no time. He let Tommy go without a struggle and took in the view as the young guy pulled up his shorts and adjusted his hair.

"Do you mean what you said? Tommy asked.

Damien stood back and looked at the boy standing there wide-eyed in the dappled shade, long dark hair mussed up, cock still clearly tenting his shorts. Damien looked down to check he wasn't tenting, or worse, leaking. Damien's cock buzzed with excitement, signalling a newly arisen horn which was painfully stretching his underwear.

"Tommy, I mean it," he said.

Voices sounded close.

"My room at 5 o'clock."

Damien turned and walked into the sun. Paul and the group were standing nearby. His friend waved.

"No luck with my ball," Damien said, walking towards them without a backward glance. He just hoped Tommy had the sense to stay still until they were away, or keep the tree between him and prying eyes.

Five o'clock.

Tommy cowered in the shade, listening to Damien talk with his buddies. When they were far enough away, he actually made some attempt to look for a ball. He kicked aside some bushes and luckily spotted one - it looked like it had been there awhile, but what the hell, it was a golf ball.

"To-o-o-om-my-y-y!" the old man who insisted on the insipid title of "Mister" called out in a way that was obviously meant to be playful and flirtatious, but just came off annoying. "Did you get lost in the scary woods?"

"Get bent," Tommy muttered under his breath as he quickly adjusted his still half-hard shaft inside his underwear so it wasn't obvious. Thusly composed, he hurried toward the sound of the old man's voice and held up the ball with a carefully crafted grin.

"I think I found it, Mister!"

Mister strode up to him with a smile that seemed to be at once wolfish and patronizing. "Oh, little Tommy," he sighed, patting the young man on the head. "Does that look like one of my nice new Titleists to you?"

Tommy examined the grubby ball he'd grabbed in desperation. "It says... Pinnacle."

"Pinnacle!" the man sneered and turned toward his friends, who all shared a condescending laugh. Tommy obviously wasn't in on the joke, so he just stood awkwardly blushing until Mister yanked the ball from his hand and flung it disdainfully back into the bushes.

"You're lucky you're cute," he remarked, and Tommy faked another smile in response.

He did his best to be a good boy for the remainder of the practically interminable Damien-less game, and was mercifully rewarded with the hefty tip he'd hoped for, even if Mister was sure to remind him several times of what a hopeless caddy he was.

Over his lunch break, Tommy finally had a chance to seriously contemplate Damien and 5 o'clock . Of course he couldn't go back to the man's room!

Could he?

If he went, there was going to be sex - like, actual butt-fucking. That was what Damien wanted. Was it what Tommy wanted? Maybe. Eventually. At some point. When he felt ready. And he liked someone enough. He wasn't even sure how he felt about what had happened on the golf course, even though he'd initiated it himself. It had been a spectacular orgasm, he couldn't deny that. And he wanted more - that he was certain of. But today? Everything at once?

No - absolutely not. He'd taken too many stupid chances already.

Ten minutes before his break ended, idly curious, Tommy unlocked his phone and browsed to local news, deciding to search the name "Damien". He stopped breathing when he saw the headlines leap up, accompanied by photos of a very familiar face.

Holy crap, he's a senator!

Tommy quickly tapped one of the top Damien Hale deadlines and stared at the picture before perusing the story. Apparently he'd come close to breaking records at getting elected at his age. Tommy's heart was pounding. He searched more pictures of Damien.

I know that guy. He sucked me off. We made each other cum. He's a senator, and he wants to fuck me.

Tommy was getting hard all over again. He had no idea his mystery man was this big a deal. And although Tommy might not have been the brightest crayon in the box, he understood enough to know how big a risk a newly elected senator in the public eye was taking, fooling around with an eighteen-year-old boy. A married newly elected senator. With a family.

God, it was so depraved, but now he wanted it so much more. The temptation to let himself be a senator's dirty secret was eclipsing his anxieties and hesitations at the moment.

Without really thinking it through, he rapidly texted his mom:

(Don't pick me up at 4, I need to stay late. Not sure how long. Maybe a double shift.)

A minute later, the response came: (Oh honey are you sure? You're working so hard, and it's wonderful, but I don't want you to burn out! Take care and give me a ring when you need a ride. Even if it's late, ok? Don't go trying to take a bus at midnight, I worry about you.)

Tommy sighed, frustrated with how she treated him like he couldn't handle even the most basic adult things. Little did she know just how adult he'd been today. (I'm fine, talk later.)

The rest of his shift seemed to last as long as that excruciating golf game, but finally 4 o'clock came, and then he had an hour to kill before meeting Damien. Senator Hale. God, did it get any more grown-up than having an affair with a senator?

Tommy was dressed in his street clothes - jeans and a hoodie - when 5 finally approached and he headed up in the hotel elevator. He knew there were a lot of security cameras around so, feeling paranoid, he kept his hood low the whole way. He was shaking when he arrived at Damien's room. He stared at the door, never so nervous in his life. How could he do a thing like this? How had he even had the courage to do what he'd done on the golf course? This was a whole new level of crazy. What if the guy had an even darker side than was already apparent? What if he was violent?

Almost chickening out, Tommy whirled around and took a few steps back to the elevator before stopping and returning again. Suspecting that he might just be every bit as airheaded as the old stockbroker this morning had seemed to believe, Tommy finally resolved to shut off his stupid brain and put his fate in the hands of the man in the hotel room. He held his breath, scrunched his fists inside the sleeves of his hoodie, and knocked softly on the door.

Damien spent the rest of the day on autopilot. Golf, lunch, pressing the flesh with a series of ever more boring old men at the club. Everyone wanted a piece of the new junior senator. He even did an interview for the TV, just a brief piece about what he planned to do in his first week. Paul gave him some notes, and it was all he could do to concentrate on looking into the camera and remembering not to say 'cock'.

It had all been so easy and simple up to now. Sure he had to balance his public life with his private desires, but Maryland was a big place and Washington DC was even bigger. And everyone had needs, it seemed. No one had talked so far. No one had caught him out. He'd been careful for sure. And Paul looked out for him.

But that all seemed like yesterday. Today was all about Tommy. Washington could go fuck itself.

The hands on Damien's watch moved ever slower as 5.00pm approached. And would Tommy turn up anyway? He was surprised the young guy didn't recognise him. Damien's face had been everywhere, posters, newspapers, TV. It said a lot about social media and young people that for all the publicity, all the exposure, all the wall to wall coverage of the campaign, here was some kid who didn't know Senator Damien Hale.

Damien made his excuses. 'Rest' he told Paul. 'Good idea' came his friend's reply. 'See you at dinner'. Damien returned to his room, showered, and put on a change of underwear beneath his robe. Did he need underwear? Maybe not, but he put on a pair of satin shorts all the same.

And then he opened his case on the bed. He had remembered lube. Why? Who did he think he'd meet at the country club? But how fortuitous it'd been packing lube. And when he checked inside the sleeve at the top he found something else he'd forgotten was there. The twelve inch black dildo. Jesus! The one he'd bought on the trip to Latin America, when he'd been able to wander off in Buenos Aires and enjoy himself at a tiny gay club he'd found. The one the customs officer had discovered at Dulles and fingered in front of him. 'Andrew', Damien had read on the guy's name tag. 'Must remember that name next time I'm at Dulles', Damien thought.

He realised he had taken the dildo out of the sleeve and was fingering it, rolling it between his hands, squeezing the shaft. Damien put the rubber cock to his lips and opened his mouth. He'd only ever used it on himself. It was big and it did the job. Maybe today would prove even more special than it had been so far, he thought, placing the dildo on the bedside table next to the lube.

Ten minutes to five. Would Tommy show? Maybe Damien had scared him off with all that talk about fucking his ass. Tommy was so young, obviously a virgin. Sure he had a way of looking back that made him seem worldly, and a naive, open way of talking about what they were doing that made Damien melt.

But if he didn't show Damien could understand why. And it would mean making a big decision. Pursue Tommy later or cut his losses. There were plenty of young guys out there looking for a senator to fuck just to further their careers in Washington. Why waste time with a young kid like Tommy? Except that Tommy was unsullied by politics, untainted by careerism, unspoiled by everything which came with Damien's life. And that was why today, why finding and fucking this young guy, was so special. And why Damien knew he just had to come to the room at 5 o'clock. Or....or what?

Damien realised he was hardening just thinking about what might lie ahead. He undid the robe and retied it, as if that might cover his erection. But his cock knew what it wanted and poked through the gap. Damien examined himself; the round, neatly cut head, the parallel veins already standing proud on the shaft, the way it sprung so abruptly from the wiry hairs on his torso. How good it had looked splitting Tommy's lips earlier and then discharging into his mouth. Fucking Jesus! Tommy just had to come.

And then Damien heard the soft knock at the door. He stepped up to the peephole, his cock bumping against the cool timber, and looked through. Tommy. His heart thumped in his dry throat. He opened the door.

Tommy felt a moment's panic, and then slipped inside the room, pressing himself back against the nearest wall. He stared at Damien as he shut the door - the robe, the obvious erection - from beneath his hood, which still shadowed his face. Tommy's hoodie was too big on him, making him look even smaller than he was, and he almost seemed to be trying to disappear inside it, his clenched fists still tucked away inside the sleeves.

"Hi," he whispered, his heart fluttering.

It was hard not to stare at Damien's cock, even more challenging to hold back his own resultant arousal, which was for now well concealed by his clothes.

"I can't believe I'm here," Tommy blurted out, for some reason needing to fill the tense silence with words. "I don't really know why I'm here. I'm freaking out a little. I lied to my mom!"

He let out a shivering breath and crossed his arms tightly across his thin chest in an anxious posture so different from his earlier boldness. He wanted to do what he did before, to step up and kiss the gorgeous man before him, but he felt on pins and needles now.

"What we did was... crazy. Especially for you, I think. I know who you are. I know now, at least. You could be in mega huge trouble if people found out, couldn't you? I can hardly afford to lose this job even if it kind of sucks, but your job is... so much bigger. And you're in the news! Why... why would you do this? And with me? I'm... nobody. I don't know much about the world, especially about... sex stuff."

Damien closed the door, engaged the lock, then turned and stood silently, taking everything in. Tommy crossed to the opposite wall and sort of pressed himself against it. Damien couldn't help but notice how good he looked in a hoodie, his face shadowed and mysterious, his chest swathed in fabric, the jeans pleasingly tight and showing off his teenage package to great effect.

And then the confessions. Damien listened as the words gushed out of Tommy's mouth. "I don't know why I'm here. I lied to my mom. I know who you are. This is crazy....'

"Whoa," Damien said. He wanted to cross the room and give Tommy a hug, engage with him physically. He felt in a hurry. Time was short. It was going to be like that, today, and in the future, if they had one.

But something held Damien back. Tommy's vulnerability and confusion? Damien wasn't sure. This was just another moment in time where they were together and Tommy was sweet and Damien felt in control, yet ready to surrender everything for sex, to feel his young friend's body beneath him, to reach down into his clothes and find the thing he wanted, to uncover his prize and take it, lap it up, use it for his own gratification.

And his pleasure was heightened all the more by Tommy's garbled protestations. It was normal. Damien remembered his own awakening, the confusion and the fear and the unbridled joy of being deflowered. And then the power he felt knowing he could make grown men do things to him and for him. Maybe that's what Tommy meant when he said he knew who Damien was. Damien listened carefully for the veiled threat, the tone and words he'd used himself all those years ago. But Tommy was just confused. That would pass with time and experience. My God, Damien thought, I hope we have time, and experiences. I hope....

He realised his robe was open. He was standing before Tommy naked, his cock hard and erect. Tommy hadn't taken his eyes off Damien's cock even as he jabbered away. It felt to Damien that he only had to walk up to the 18 year old and watch his eyes fall as the cock approached until Tommy was on his knees, eyes and mouth open, ready to take up where they'd left off in the morning, sucking cock. And sure, they'd suck cock again this afternoon, but only as the teaser. The appetiser.

"Tommy, calm down," Damien said. "So you know who I am. Well, it doesn't make any difference. I am a Senator, yes, and also a man who enjoyed what we did this morning and what we are going to do now." Damien looked down at his cock, painfully hard now, pointing across the room.

"Why did I do it? He smiled. "You know why. You enjoyed it too. I know you did. You sucked my cock and you let me suck yours. We tasted each other's cum. You found me in the trees and let me jerk you off. It was great. You know it was. And now you've come here, just like I knew you would."

Damien crossed the room and took Tommy in his arms. The 18 year old folded into the embrace, leaning his head back so Damien could find his lips. They kissed, pushing their tongues together, tasting and testing and twisting into each other.

"Mmmm," Damien said when he came up for air. "I knew you were going to enjoy this as much as me. And I've got something special for you." He glanced at the bedside table and wondered if Tommy had seen the dildo and lube. Did the young man even know what they were?

"So Tommy, why don't we undress and get into bed?"

Could it really be so simple? It was happening just because they both enjoyed it? Tommy had always expected that, when he finally got his turn to enjoy some kind of intimate relationship, it would be impossibly complicated to figure out. Although he supposed it helped that this whole thing had been sparked by a happy accident, a serendipitous intrusion into a moment of self-love that bloomed organically into Tommy's first shared cum.

But this still didn't quite answer the core of Tommy's perplexity - why him? Why would Damien want to extend a special invitation to him, Tommy, a totally inexperienced, sexually ignorant eighteen-year-old, when he probably could have had any man (or woman) he wanted? The guy was a senator, and so fucking dreamy! Tommy might have been conveniently located, but he had little doubt Damien Hale could call in any hot guy he wanted to visit his hotel room.

Maybe Tommy need to stop looking a gift horse in the mouth. He'd basically won the hot guy lottery, and though it might seem suspicious that he hadn't actually entered, that was no reason to decline. A man he'd spent most of the past hour Googling and drooling over pictures of in expensive suits and shaking the hands of innumerable other powerful (and much less hot) guys was inviting him to get naked in his bed with him - why was he hesitating?

He smiled shyly and slowly peeled off his hoodie and t-shirt together, hanging them politely on the arm of a nearby chair. He kicked off his shoes and was now in his jeans and socks. His arousal beneath the snug denim was obvious. Tongue kissing with Damien was heaven - he felt like the man was trying to choke him with his tongue or maybe eat him up, and it was all so fucking hot. He'd had no idea what a kiss could really be. How little, he mused, did he know about sex, if kissing had overwhelmed him?

He sat on the edge of the bed, still in the confining jeans. A large part of him was still horribly nervous. He didn't know if he was ready to push things further. He crossed his arms over his thin, boyish chest.

"You... you said you wanted to get to know each other," he recalled from their encounter on the golf course. Maybe this would help relax him. "Should we, um... do that? Or maybe... I dunno. I guess I've read some about you by now on the internet, and... and maybe if you knew more about me you'd just be disappointed."

His eyes wandered during his last sentence, and found the twelve-inch dildo. At first he didn't realize what it was, and then he gasped, reflexively clenching up, his train of thought thoroughly derailed.

"Omigod - is that...? Seriously?" he exclaimed, the pitch of his voice rising as his eyes went wide. "No way anyone could fit that... anywhere! I mean, holy shit! It'd blast right through your guts and be most of the way to your throat!"

As Tommy baulked at the sight of the dildo, Damien sat on the end of the bed. He watched him remove his hoodie and then his shirt, before Tommy also sat on the bed and folded his arms across his chest. The 18 year old was just as enticing as he had been this morning. Funny, Damien thought, how you almost doubt your recall when you discover perfection, and then wonder if you imagined the whole thing. Well, he hadn't imagined it, and his swollen cock, which he made no effort to hide, proclaimed his relief and excitement.

"Hey," Damien said, placing an arm round Tommy's shoulders. "Don't be scared by the dildo. Maybe we won't use it today. I just wanted you to see it, and maybe fantasise about it and what we might do together."

He leaned over and covered it with a newspaper.

"It's just a rubber cock. Like a real cock, only bigger, I guess. And unlike a real cock, it...sort of never goes soft."

Tommy looked horrified.

"Can you imagine that, Tommy? It never goes soft."

Damien could see this line of conversation wasn't really working. He had to be patient and slow if this thing with Tommy was going to last longer than today.

"So, you've been checking me out on the internet? Maybe you should ask me all the questions you want and I will just answer as best I can."

Damien smiled and was glad that Tommy looked more relaxed. Talking was good. Sucking cock this morning was just great, but now Tommy needed to feel more secure. Damien understood that. The last thing he wanted was to scare Tommy off, or worse, have him run screaming from the building. It had happened before and Damien had been forced to call in a lot of favours and spend a lot of money to keep that episode quiet. And he was only a partner then, not a senator. A shiver ran up his spine.

"And I can't imagine that I'd ever be disappointed with you Tommy. Ever. You're...well...a beautiful young man who knows how to be discreet and especially knows how to suck cock. I can't believe you've never done it before after such a professional job this morning."

Damien really wanted Tommy out of his jeans. Maybe they weren't going to fuck. Maybe this afternoon would be all talk, groundwork. But that didn't mean he shouldn't enjoy being with Tommy naked, maybe stroke each other, suck, masturbate each other. And if it led to something more, OK. And if it didn't, there was always later.

Damien stood and slipped out of his robe, standing before Tommy naked, his cock still semi-erect. He watched his young friend look him up and down, take in his nakedness, stare at his cock with that wide-eyed rabbit-in-the-headlights look. No hurry, Damien said to himself. No pressure. Just look, no touching. For now.

"So, Tommy, do you like me naked?" Damien nodded, hoping Tommy would respond. "I like it when you're naked. It's a great way to relax. Why don't you slip off your jeans and then we can talk?"

Tommy's eyes darted a few more times, morbidly curious, in the direction of the foot-long rubber cock that was now hidden away, at least until Damien bared himself entirely. Then it was hard to look anywhere else. The man was so drool-worthy even in professional photos in the news, and here he was, every inch of him bare, just for Tommy. He'd heard the expression "a feast for the eyes before", and now he truly understood its meaning - he felt physically hungry when he looked at Damien.

He felt there was so much he wanted to know before he could fully relax into whatever this was, but he couldn't begin to form any questions. He supposed he was hoping Damien would just say all the right things without him having to ask. And maybe there were some things Tommy didn't really want to know - like how many other guys Damien had been with, and whether Tommy would end up just another notch on his bedpost and be cast aside. He wanted to believe everything - that Damien really did think he was special, and that he really wanted to make him happy.

He'd been reluctant a few minutes ago to take off all his clothes, but now that Damien was naked and not being as aggressive as he was on the golf course, being naked didn't seem like such a big deal. It wasn't like Damien hadn't seen everything already. Plus, everything he said was so calming.

"You look amazing naked," he said in a soft, whispery voice. His smirked and his cheeks immediately darkened. He wasn't used to having such conversations, but it was certainly liberating, even if he had no idea of the right thing to say. "I... I really like your body."

He stood up slowly and unbuttoned his jeans, keeping his eyes on Damien's as if to make sure that the man really did want to see more of him, that he really did think he was 'beautiful'. Maybe at least part of him was keeping an eye on Damien to make sure the guy wasn't going to suddenly stick something up his bum.

He pushed his jeans down along with his underwear, stepping out of them and sitting down again on the bed, feeling the cool sheets smooth against his bare, warm flesh. It really was nice to be naked, and being naked with someone made him feel like giggling. Instead he just grinned. His cock stood straight up.

"We're naked," he whispered. "This is cool."

He slid over until he was sitting right up against Damien, elbow to elbow, thigh to thigh. Damien put his arm around Tommy's shoulders, as he had earlier, and Tommy leaned into him, craving to feel safe.

"I don't really know... what I want to know," he mumbled, his fingertips exploring the top of Damien's thigh. "Maybe just... stuff about you that other people don't know. I mean... today I did stuff with you I've never done before, but I guess none of this is probably new to you. I bet you don't have any 'firsts' left for me. Maybe if I knew secrets about you, it would be almost as good...?"

So I look amazing naked....Damien loved how Tommy said all the right things. Cute, little, 18 year old Tommy who had sucked his first cock this morning. Could you believe it? Yet he talked like one of those twenty-somethings who looked just 18 whom you found in bars or saunas or on the beach in the Caribbean. The guys who made you feel that it was only your magnetism and sex appeal that drew them to you, standing there on the beach in your designer speedos with the one inch sides, showing off your neatly cut package and your fresh tan. Up they'd come to you with their shark-tooth necklaces and trendy piercings and tiny black thongs and just get talking, and then they'd be laughing and brushing their floppy hair off their faces, then touching you, their fingers slipping under the waist band of your speedos and then outlining your cock, and you'd be French kissing them in the shade before skipping back to your villa and fucking their tight little twink asses until your cock was sore and their asses red raw and slick with your seed. And oh fucking Jesus, sometimes they'd come back to your villa two at a time....

Of course they were paid. Professionals. Male hookers employed by the private resorts. Fuck, how Damien had enjoyed that holiday in St Martin, just made a partner and some client wants him on hand to witness a property deal, then just stay another week. He wondered if he'd been up for that life when he was a twink. For how long could he have plied his trade letting rich guys plug his ass on the beach? But who in Maryland has ever heard of that life, a male hooker in the Caribbean?

Yet Tommy, sweet, innocent, silver-tongued Tommy would command a high price in St Martin...

Damien watched Tommy slip off his jeans and underwear, unveiling the fine cock which had fitted so perfectly in his mouth earlier. And then stepping over to the bed, all coy and flirty at the same time, dropping his hand to cover his cock and then reconsidering and giving Damien a full view. His hard cock. In full view. How the fuck was Damien going to keep from just grabbing that hard young cock and gorging on it, pulling Tommy onto him, feeding the cock down his throat, swallowing the meat, wanting to gag and wanting to stay full of cock...Jesus.

Tommy sat beside Damien on the bed "This is cool," the teen whispered. Tommy slid over, leaning into him, touching Damien along his whole body. Steady, Damien said to himself. Two hours. Make it last.

And then Tommy's fingers were on Damien's thigh, high up, inches from his own throbbing cock. Damien could see the precum pooling on the tip, threatening disaster. I might as well put my hand behind his head and spear his mouth with it now, rough and unceremonious, just to make sure the inevitable discharge isn't spilled.

"Maybe if I knew secrets...." Fuck! Where did that come from? Damien felt the shiver again. Did Tommy know what he was saying? It was all secrets. That was the thrill. That was the risk that made the adrenaline pump.

Damien paused. The moment to fuck Tommy's mouth without asking passed. Fucking secrets. What to say?

"You know my secret, Tommy," Damien said eventually. "You are my secret...." He placed a hand on Tommy's thigh, firmly, as if to claim ownership, then kissed him. "And I want to teach you everything, Tommy. Today is just the start of you learning about what you really want, what you like, how to make us both happy."

Damien pulled Tommy onto his back and kissed his chest, running his mouth and tongue down to the teen's navel and then rutting about in the fine spray of dark pubic hair which adorned Tommy's cock mound. All the while Damien could feel Tommy's solid cock bumping and poking his chest and then his neck as his mouth slid ever lower. He felt Tommy tense in anticipation of his cock being sucked, held his mouth over the slick cock head, blowing gently, watching the organ pulse and strain as if something even more suckable might break out of the skin.

And when he felt Tommy was ready to be engulfed, Damien went lower, brushing the cock head with his lightly stubbled chin. He slid past the cock then rose on his knees until he could grip Tommy's legs, pulling them wide in one movement, exposing the 18 year old's neatly puckered anus.

"Tommy," Damien said, looking back at his young friend's anxious face. "I was rough with you today. On the golf course. When I fingered your ass. Much too rough. It's no way to be initiated into ass play and I apologise. Now I want to make amends."

Damien sat up on the bed. Tommy started to close his legs instinctively, but Damien stopped him and told him to keep them apart. Then the older man reached across to the bedside table, picked up the lube and fixing an almost expressionless gaze on Tommy, proceeded to lube up his hands, slowly and deliberately, from finger tips to wrists, as if planning some seriously eye-watering examination. And with Tommy's eyes fit to burst, Damien turned the lube towards Tommy's ass, squirting it generously into the young man's crack.

And when he was satisfied that they were both sufficiently oiled, Damien carefully placed the lube back on the bedside table where Tommy could see it, smiled, and with eyes lasering into the boy, ran both hands slowly but purposefully across Tommy's thighs and into his ass crack until his fingers found the tight but now greasy hole.

You are my secret, he said, as if there was no other boy for him and never would be. Tommy lapped it up. He hadn't known what he'd been looking for from Damien, but surely this was it.

Damien played him like a fiddle, kissing him just right, easing him down onto the bed and devouring his soft, young body until Tommy was squirming with pleasure, forgetting all about what he might or might not be ready for and just wanting more and more of this. He giggled now and then, forgetting he was supposed to be a grown-up, and then let out a shivering sigh when Damien's warm breath bathed his frantic cock.

Once Damien spread his legs wide, Tommy's nervousness returned, and he craned his neck to try to see what the man was about to do to him.

Then Damien apologized for earlier. Tommy melted instantly, deeply touched, and feeling guilty for ever thinking he might need to be afraid of this amazing, gorgeous, perfect man. He watched Damien lube up, and although he still looked a bit apprehensive, Tommy's eyes were now trusting, ready to accept whatever was coming.

He gasped when he felt the coolness of the liquid dripping down his warm cleft.

"Oh... god," Tommy breathed as Damien touched him, caressing his thighs, his cleft, and finally Tommy felt a finger pressing against his tight pucker, carefully lubricated. The sensation was exquisite, and Tommy's eyes widened as the finger put more and more pressure on his opening until it gave way. He gasped again, bunching the sheets in his fists. The pain of the invasion was as intense as the pleasure, but this didn't even seem like a bad thing.

A second finger shortly joined the first, and Tommy groaned, cursing at the ceiling. His cock drooled a crystalline droplet onto his belly. It was almost too much to handle, and he wanted to squirm away from the penetration, yet at the same time it was so intensely right and perfect to be filled, and he also wanted more.

"It hurts," he whimpered, meeting Damien's gaze with tearful eyes. "But I think I like it. Is it always going to hurt?"

Damien loved how Tommy was just putty in his hands. Sure he was the dominant one, older and experienced, and now that Tommy knew who he was, a bit of a star. But still, Tommy hadn't protested, hadn't said no, hadn't given any indication that Damien should go slower or stop. Or send him away.

He even lied to his parents so he could stay back at the club. Damien couldn't believe his luck.

Damien knew what a bastard he was. And he knew this mightn't go on much longer. It was truly good fortune he'd never been caught, or no one had talked, or Susanna hadn't left him. Well not officially, anyway. And she wanted a political career so for now he was probably safe from that angle. Once she was on her way though, who knew what she'd do to get to the top?

Top...Jesus, Damien thought. He watched Tommy staring at him lubing up, slowly and deliberately, both hands down to the wrists. The young guy just watched with his usual wide-eyed mix of horror and cute innocence. Damien had no idea how far he was going to go with this. Sure Tommy hadn't rejected anything yet, but being fisted on a first date was probably a bridge to far. He regretted not finding a porn channel on the flatscreen to inspire him. And to give Tommy the thrill of anticipation. Damien had recently discovered Isaac Lin, a young, hot Chinese American who readily accepted being fisted despite looking for all the world like a dumb virginal Asian kid straight off the plane. No, he wasn't going to fist Tommy, not today anyway. Lubing up was just for show.

Tommy gasped when Damien squirted the lube onto his ass. The older man smiled, put the lube down, pulled Tommy's ass up, then spread his knees. The 18 year old's tight little hole beckoned him. Damien touched a finger to the orifice. Tommy jumped and invoked the almighty. Damien pressed the finger tip onto Tommy's anus as gently and slightly as he could. This is going to be slow, he thought. A long and engaging tease.

A little firmer, listening to Tommy's breathing slow, and then Damien overcame the pressure. His finger slipped past Tommy's sphincter and inside the boy's ass. Tommy held his breath as Damien held his index finger still, buried up to the first knuckle. The silence and the anticipation were electric. And then Damien slowly turned his finger, this way and that, feeling Tommy from the inside, letting the boy drink in the new sensation.

Damien watched Tommy clench the bed sheets with his fists, but just as he relaxed, Damien drew back and inserted his middle finger as well. This time Tommy gasped. He knew what Tommy was feeling. He remembered it all. The intensity of the pleasure and the pain of that first penetration. Wanting it to stop and wanting it never to stop, knowing there was more to come and wondering what was his limit. Was there a limit?

Tommy turned his face back to Damien. "It hurts," he said. Damien smiled and nodded. "But I think I like it..."

"I like it too, Tommy." Damien said. "And you're going to like it, me doing it to you and you doing it to me. Would you like that? Stick your fingers inside me? Stick your cock inside me?" He wanted the boy to smile, but could see it was hurting. The words 'no gain no pain' popped into is head, but they didn't sound right. "It's not going to hurt," Damien said, "Not every time. But maybe," he said watching Tommy's face closely, "you like a bit of pain. It can be a real turn-on, yeah?"

And to make the point, Damien withdrew his two fingers, turned his hand over, and a little harder this time, inserted three fingers into Tommy's ass.

Tommy kept his eyes glued to Damien's, obviously trying hard to please, but utterly unable to mask the pain and worry on his face.

"Oh!" he groaned, wincing as the third finger entered him. His body tensed; his teeth clenched. "Ow, ow..."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a few moments and two large tears slipped loose. Three fingers felt like something the size of a baseball bat to Tommy's virgin hole. A baseball bat that was on fire.

Maybe you like a bit of pain. It can be a real turn-on, yeah?

"Yeah," he whimpered, which felt like an outright lie. Tommy's cock was still rigid, which surprised him, because he didn't exactly feel like the pain itself was arousing. He just wanted desperately to be what Damien desired, to find out how to enjoy the pain. Right now it was a struggle not to pull away, and the tears kept coming.

Yet there was something in it he truly felt he not only wanted, but needed. Maybe part of it was that he'd been shielded from pain his whole life, wrapped in proverbial cotton wool, cloistered away from mean or dangerous people, and prevented from experiencing anything potentially harmful. If he was going to truly grow up, maybe he needed to embrace pain, whether he liked it or not.

Choking back a sob, he furrowed his brow in an almost childish simulacrum of fierce determination, even as the tears continued to stream. He exhaled shakily and nodded to Damien, signaling he was okay, or at least perfectly determined to pretend he was.

Jesus. Tommy is crying his eyes out, Damien thought. Do I stop? Do I want to stop? Is this just something he needs to get over? Am I a selfish fucking bastard? Somewhere, deep in his head, he knew the answer to that one.

Damien leaned down, his fingers still deep inside Tommy's anus, where he could kiss the back of the teen's neck and whisper. "It hurts. I know. It always hurts. It must have hurt out there on the golf course earlier when I stuck my fingers into you. Yeah?" He waited for Tommy to nod or speak, but he just whimpered.

"Feels like someone has stuck a broom up your ass, yeah? A baseball bat?" Tommy nodded. Damien hesitated. He enjoyed the pain of anal sex now he was used to it, but he remembered his first time. His first few times. It hurt like hell. It had to be done though, had to be endured, if he was to be true to himself. But maybe Tommy wasn't going to get through the pain threshold in one go. Fuck, Damien thought, imagining the dildo in Tommy's ass and then his own cock. Imagining them fucking today and tomorrow, inside and outdoors, in the car, on the beach, all the places Damien had been fucked in the ass by the older guys who'd trained him. They all came to mind now, a slow slideshow of faces and cocks: his neighbour, his uncle, his teachers, random guys at college, the hot twinks on the beach in St Martin....

"Tommy," he said, angling his fingers round deep inside the boy's anus one last time. "I think you've had enough." Damien withdrew his fingers reluctantly. He so wanted to have it all today, so wanted to see Tommy speared on his cock and the enormous dildo, so wanted the 18 year old to smile and laugh and ask him to fuck him harder and deeper. But that would come. Later. Now he would let the young guy recover and then....well, offer his own ass of course.

If Tommy wasn't going to lose his ass cherry here on Damien's bed today, at least Damien could enjoy Tommy playing with his ass. It would be fun to see how much Tommy had learned, how imaginative he was, how much he was prepared to inflict pain on somebody else, test the limits.

He sat on the bed next to Tommy, still face down and weeping. Damien rubbed the back of Tommy's head, tousling his hair. "Hey, sit up big guy," he said. Tommy did as he was told. "You were great," Damien said. "Sure, it hurts. It always hurts first time. But you're gonna be great. You're gonna love it when you get used to it."

Damien realised he was sucking his fingers in front of Tommy, the fingers which had been in the boy's ass. Tommy looked appalled. What to do? Damien decided to play it for laughs. Lick and suck ostentatiously, grinning and saying 'yum' and sticking out his tongue. And with Tommy still looking horrified, Damien finished the third finger and with the boy's taste in his mouth, leaned in and kissed Tommy, enjoying his recoil and tension, and gradual folding into the embrace.

And when Damien disengaged and Tommy looked a little relaxed, before he could speak Damien fed the three fingers into Tommy's mouth and held them there while he nodded and smiled. "Go ahead," he said. "That's the taste of your own ass."

Damien watched the young guy suck, tentatively and sour-faced. He pushed the fingers deep, long after Tommy was done, just to make sure they both knew who was in charge and what was expected. Then the older man withdrew the fingers very slowly. And when they left Tommy's lips, Damien rubbed the finger tips round Tommy's face and through his hair.

"I know you enjoyed that," Damien said. "I could see your disgust and your curiosity at the same time. So you've fucked the fingers which have been up your own ass. Never done that before to yourself? No? Well, believe me, you'll leave here today and go home and the first thing you're gonna do is lock yourself in your room, stick your fingers up your ass and then suck them. I know."

Damien took the boy's hand and placed it on Damien's cock, and then took Tommy's cock in his. The boy stroked him automatically. "If I'm not going to fuck your ass today," Damien said, "then maybe you should learn to play with my ass. Yeah?"

When Damien told him to sit up and said he was great, Tommy fixed a weepy pair of doe eyes on him, not sure whether to be disappointed or grateful - gratitude won, and he felt like throwing himself into Damien's arms. He felt certain his trust in the man had been proven, and there was no mistaking the infatuation in his tear-filled eyes.

Then Damien threw him a curveball - he didn't know what to make of it. He took Damien's fingers in his mouth with the expression of a disobedient child having his mouth washed out with soap. The essence of his own ass washed over him, and it was so crass and so depraved... maybe that was what made it so exciting. Still, he couldn't seem to admit any enjoyment of having that done to him. Not that he could hide what his cock was doing, or his face. Damien seemed to be able to practically read his mind. It was spooky, but also exciting.

Tommy seemed much cheered once he had Damien's cock in his hand and Damien took hold of his. This, he felt he was able to handle. He had done it to himself enough times; he could stroke another. It wasn't so scary.

Then came the curveball again. Play with Damien's ass? Do what with it, exactly? Stick his fingers in it? His eyes widened. He met Damien's probing gaze. He understood then that it wasn't really a question - he was going to have to do it. And probably any finger that went up Damien's ass would have to end up in his mouth - he understood that too.

On another level, he also understood that he could just get dressed and walk away, and it would all be fine. He didn't want that.

He wanted this, whatever this was, even if it was traumatizing. He wanted to be made to do things. To have choice taken away from him. His cock throbbed in Damien's hand.

"Yeah," he whispered, meeting Damien's gaze with what attempted to be confidence but was more trepidation. He underscored his obedience with a small nod. "Yeah, maybe I should. I want to... know what you like, and... make you happy. Tell me how...?"

His small, soft hand left Damien's cock so he could change positions. He held his breath as Damien got into position, putting his ass on full display. Tommy's heart pounded, especially when no instructions were forthcoming. Was he just supposed to guess what to do? Copy exactly what had been done to him? Sure, it wasn't rocket science, but...

Tommy sighed and shut his eyes for a few moments, trying to clear his head. Finally, he reached out with both hands, first caressing the fine pair of ass cheeks in front of him, marvelling that he was allowed to do this at all.

I'm touching a senator's butt!

He giggled silently to himself and gently squeezed, testing each cheek like a piece of fruit. Just firm enough, just soft enough. But he knew he was just teasing now, nowhere near where he was supposed to be. He slid one finger inward, circling around the opening that looked so strangely pink and tight and innocent.

The circles he traced grew smaller and smaller until he was finally touching it, actually touching it, and it twitched eagerly beneath the pad of his finger. He pushed a little, experimentally. Spotting the lube bottle nearby, he picked it up and squeezed out a little onto his finger before trying again. He pushed in and gasped as the ring of muscle gave way. He went in all the way, and felt Damien's inner muscles squeeze his slender finger. He rotated it around, feeling each surface, fascinated.

"I'm inside you," he whispered, as if to himself, as if speaking it aloud made it more real.

Tommy kept saying yes so Damien kept up the pressure. The boy wanted to make his older friend happy and asked him how to do it. Damien rolled over on the bed, stuck his ass in the air and opened his knees. There was no need to turn to see the look on Tommy's face. He could see everything in the floor length mirror opposite, and wondered if Tommy had noticed it. Apparently not. No need to bring the mirror to Tommy's attention. watching the young guy without his knowing it, at least for the time being, just heightened the sensation for Damien. He felt his cock throb in response.

And then Tommy touched his butt, tentatively, shyly at first, squeezing him and traversing it with his fingers, touching ever so lightly. Damien heard Tommy giggle and turned to the mirror, where the boy's face shone with excitement.

Finally Damien felt a finger on his anus, cold and slick with lube, pressing and releasing, then circling, barely registering. But Damien could feel his ring pulsating with anticipation and wondered if Tommy could see it. The pulsation felt so strong that Damien imagined his anus opening and closing like an eyelid. No need to speak, no need to interrupt the flow, the reverie. Just lie there and let Tommy experiment. There would be time enough for direction if and when Tommy's imagination failed him. Again Damien regretted not finding a porn film and playing it on the bigscreen as a primer for his young friend. But the noise might have been intrusive even if the images instructive.

And then when Damien was thinking about porn, Tommy's finger penetrated him. The intrusion caught Damien off guard and he flinched. He clenched his sphincter, feeling it tighten on Tommy's finger as the 18 year old explored the inside of Damien's rectum for the first time. Damien looked at the mirror. Tommy was sitting nearly bolt upright, his hand in Damien's ass cleft pointing as if he'd seen a spider. "I'm inside you," he heard the boy say. "It feels fucking wonderful," Damien said. "You do whatever you want. Nothing you do is going to hurt me."

All the same, Tommy's exploration was painfully slow and cautious. Damien remembered back to his experimentation. Maybe he was a stronger personality, or just over sexed. He remembered college and the stroke parties he attended where the guys would line up in a train to finger each other's butts. He remembered the vegetable challenge. The guys had a motto - 'five serves a day'. Just thinking about this made him laugh inwardly. He squirmed, pushing his butt up higher, impaling himself on Damien's finger.

It was nice, but still too tentative. "Try another finger," Damien said. "Don't be shy. You can work your whole fist into me if you want."

He regretted saying it. Fisting was way too intimate and intrusive and frightening for Tommy today. They'd have to watch a porno first before trying fisting. The one with Isaac Lin and the barber maybe, all that soap and leather....

Tommy froze for a few moments. He didn't actually think a whole hand could go up a butt, but Damien seemed serious. It horrified him, and he tried to just pretend he hadn't heard it at all. He squeezed his eyes shut and gave his head a little shake, at least getting the message that he was not doing enough.

He pulled his finger almost all the way out and added a second, pushing all the way in once more before adding a third - clearly Damien didn't experience a fraction of the pain he had at this treatment. He didn't add any more fingers, but started moving them in and out, experimenting with a slow fucking rhythm.

"Does it feel okay?" he asked timidly.

He leaned down and placed his face near where his fingers were going in, keenly curious to get a closer look and barely aware of his warm breath wafting over Damien's backside. He breathed in deeply through his nose and felt a little tingly. He placed a kiss on Damien, just above his fingers.

He felt dizzy. Almost drugged. Was he drugged? No... he hadn't put anything in his mouth but Damien's fingers since he got here. His mind seemed to be drifting away; his thoughts became hazy. He kept his mouth on Damien and slid it down, closer and closer, until his lips were nearly meeting his fingers, which still moved in and out of the older man's asshole.

Not knowing exactly why, or how he'd even managed to find the nerve to do such a thing, he stuck his tongue out and licked, his tongue covering the edge of Damien's opening as much as his own slick fingers.

Damien was getting high on Tommy's fingers. Fuck, he must have three in me now, he thought. The older man moaned and bucked, thrusting his ass and twisting his body, grinding himself onto his young lover's digits. He did what he could to focus on the image in the mirror as Tommy went to work on his ass.

And then in the mirror he saw something which thrilled him to the core. Tommy leaned down and fingers still ploughing Damien's ass, placed his mouth there as well. He felt the boy's breath and then the gossamer touch of his lips, moving about the edge of his ass cleft, gliding ever closer to where the fingers cleaved Damien's hole.

Had Tommy never done this before? Jesus fucking christ! This was no clumsy, awkward beginner. Nor was it the kind of frenzied hand rape you'd get at a bondage club. Somehow Tommy was applying just the right pressure with just the right amount of sensitivity to make Damien tingle all over, inside and out.

And it got even better. In the mirror Damien saw confirmation of what he could feel, Tommy's tongue licking up and down his cleft, sliding down to the fingers, contacting the rim of his anus, just a flick at first and then more firmly, until he was sure the young guy was going as enthusiastically with his tongue as with his fingers.

"Christ, Tommy," Damien yelled into the pillow, "fuck me. Fuck me hard." He twisted his face deep into the warm bedding, holding his ass up into the boy's face, craving the attention, demanding more treatment. If only.....Damien wondered if Tommy knew what to do with a dildo.

Tommy made a happy yelping noise like an eager puppy, desperate to please master, when he heard Damien's enthusiastic reaction. He nipped at Damien's bottom a few times, getting blissfully carried away - he had no clue what he was doing, but as long as they were both having fun, what the hell did it matter?

Fuck me hard.

Tommy growled and shoved his fingers in harder, faster, watching Damien's reactions and repeating anything that seemed to work well. When his wrist got too sore to keep up the pace of the finger-fucking, he brought his tongue down again, not bothering to wonder if he were doing something weird or wrong. He pushed it hard against the rim of Damien's asshole. Bidding a silent fuck off! to the little voice in his head that tried to whisper that's gross!, he speared his tongue hard in between his fingers, trying to fit it inside along with them. It was almost impossible, but he was enjoying the attempt.

Tommy realized suddenly he was neglecting something important. His free hand darted down beneath Damien's muscular thighs to grab hold of his cock and pump it firmly while his fingers and tongue kept up their best efforts.

After few minutes he had to sit up and catch his breath, his chin wet and slick with lube and saliva as he panted heavily. His fingers remained inside Damien, although they were still for the moment.

"I'm sorry," he huffed between heavy breaths. "Sorry, I... just need a break. Am I okay? Was it okay? Omigod - I stuck my tongue up your butt! I tasted it! I like it - I like your butt! What should I do next?"