Tristan : by (c) Hamilton Joyce (MM)

At the coffee machine the usual morning group were in session. As I selected 
my espresso the conversation halted, and after a pause continued with the 
neutral and harmless topic of last night's soap-opera on the box. My job had 
many consolations....but it effectively cut me off from the life blood of the 
office: sexual gossip and office politics. Tristan was there, and I had to control 
my impulse to drool over him. 'Morning Jennie, morning Jake. Hi Tristan!'  
Tall, willowy, fair-haired, clear skinned, boyish grin. Jesus, I wanted him. His 
back was to me, and my cock hardened as I watched the outline of his slim 
buttocks through the grey silk of his summer suit.

I took my coffee back to my office and heard the conversation take off again as 
I left. Maria was at her desk, guarding my door like a good secretary. I greeted 
her with my best smile...I know the importance of status and had made sure 
that my own p.a. was the most sexy and luscious in the whole corporation. 
Latina. Not that I cared. As you'd guess she did nothing for me. The new  
Marketing Director, now that was another story. I had the hots for Tristan, for 
his sweet, tight little arse!

Being Head of Corporate Security has many advantages. One is you can be 
very secure yourself! I still had my hard-on. I locked the door with my remote, 
and pressed the tit on the interphone. 'No calls for twenty minutes, Maria.'

The coffee was good. I logged on, and went to a site...paid for on the corporate 
credit card. I'm not usually a fan of solitary sex...like I enjoy porn but prefer to 
watch it with a friend. But I had been stirred up by the lovely Tristan and if I 
was going to get any work done at all would need some relief. Twinks, I 
thought. Yes, twinks today. The best 'live' action was a video of two smooth 
lads cavorting in a meadow by a river, their bodies shining in the sun. I 
unzipped and freed my cock. One of them could almost have been Tristan. I 
wondered if Tristan too had a pretty, cut helmet. I ran my hand up and down 
my shaft as I watched that beautiful prick moving in and out of lips red and 
full. I had the sound turned down, but the boy who had been sucking seemed 
to offer his arse to the other. It didn't take twenty minutes, of course. I was 
well-aroused, and the sight of the blonde lad with his hard, straight cock 
reaming in and out of the smooth, white arse of his kneeling companion...well, 
I came at the same time as they both did. Managed to keep the cum off my 
suit...though my shirt would have a wet patch for a few minutes.

                           ........................................................................                                                  

One of the problems the new technology has brought us is staff wasting their 
valuable time surfing the net, or sending each other stupid e-mails. My new 
software allowed me to read all and any such e-mails, and to see where anyone 
had been surfing... Tristan! I logged into his user-id. No porn sites...pity. It 
would have been good to know what sexual practises turned him on. E-mails 
next. All business...but hang on! What's this? I printed it off.
'From Tristan Godolphin
To Bernice Jackson.
That was so wonderful last night, my darling. You are the loveliest and most 
passionate lover a man could dream of. Again this evening, after work. 
Sevenish?'
I was actually looking at the screen when the reply came in.
'From Bernice Jackson
To   Tristan Godolphin.
My sweet candy-stick-lover. Seven it is. Royal Arms Hotel. I've booked the 
room. My husband won't be back home till ten, so we'll have two hours. 
XXXXXXX'

I phoned an old friend from my days in the Metropolitan Police. 'Hi, Jason. 
How's things, you old cunt-hound?'

'Good. Business is booming. Mostly cheating wives and randy husbands. But a 
few business scams...your sort of work. Got anything for me?'

'This is more your cheating husband sort of thing, Jason. I want photos of a 
couple at it. This evening. Usual rates on top of the retainer. Double fee for 
clear pics of him, her, and the cock and cunt...or mouth or arsehole or 
whatever.'

I gave him the details...time and place and a quick description of Tristan and 
his woman. 

'Royal Arms...no sweat. We've got an arrangement there. They'll put them in 
a room that's all set up for filming. Stills and video if you want.'

'You're on!'

                                      ....................................................                                                        

Maria gave me her best smile, and leaned forward so I could see her tits. 
Wasting her time! 
'This arrived for you this morning, by courier, Sir.'

I complimented her on her hairdo, and took the packet from her. 'No calls for 
twenty minutes, please, Maria.' 

I sipped my coffee, and opened the heavy envelope. Photos and a tape. Bernice 
was a very pretty woman...even I could see that. Shaven. And she was multi-
talented...mouth, cunt and arse, it seemed. I put the tape into the player. 
Wonderful shots of Tristan stripping, his hard cock swaying in front of him as 
he hopped about, getting his tight trousers over his ankles. And the loveliest 
smooth, white arse. Then his hands all over her ebony body, and his cock in 
her mouth. He was circumcised! His hot cum dribbling, white down her black 
chin. And then her cunt. He was a repeater! Later he had her in the arse. Clever 
shots of her facing the camera, kneeling, grimacing with either pain or pleasure 
as he, red-faced, pumped it into her anus.

What a waste, I thought. But my hots for him were even stronger now I'd seen 
him naked, and watched him come!

 He was about to find that life could get a bit complicated.

I copied the whole tape, and then made a version for myself with the black 
bitch edited out as far as possible. The full version, and the glossy stills were 
delivered to Mrs Godolphin of The Elms, Wandsome Avenue, by special 
courier mid-afternoon. Along with copies of two e-mails. The package was 
'from a wellwisher'!!!
                                                   
                                    ..................................................................
There was no Tristan at the coffee machine the next morning.

At eleven thirty, Bernice Jackson phoned me. She wanted Security to put a 
block on her phone. A Mrs Godolphin had been pestering her all morning. I 
summoned Bernice to my office. It turned out she was a Marketing Assistant 
in Tristan's department. I gave her a homily about keeping social and business 
well apart...that it would do her career no good at all...that we would try to 
keep it quiet...that she must promise to break the affair off. For her own. For 
Tristan's. For the company's good. And I wanted her to take a week's leave. 
Starting now. I suggested Majorca or Florida. Anywhere outside the UK.

What a bloody hypocrite I can be!

I left a message with Tristan's Secretary. He was to see me urgent and earliest.

                                                   
Tristan, slightly drawn and lacking his boyish grin, but still devastatingly sexy, 
arrived at my office mid-afternoon.

'You young lecher, Tristan. Talk about chaos. I've had your wife on the phone 
demanding Bernice Jackson's address (a lie this), Bernice in here in tears 
(another lie), and now you. Jesus, is this a company or a zoo?'

'I'm sorry Harold. Some bastard dumped on me.' He told me how his wife had 
been waiting for him...the photos...and then the tape. 'She wouldn't even give 
me a copy...'

'You asked her for the tape. Jesus, but you've got a nerve, Tristan.'

'She really lost it then. Upshot is I've packed two bags, and I'm out on the 
pavement. Got to book a hotel tonight.'

'I should stay away from Bernice for a bit...she's upset...and not overpleased! 
...Look I've got a spare room...two in fact. Why not...just till you find an 
appartment..?'

                                        ................................................................                                            

And so the lovely boy moved in with me that very evening.

                                       .................................................................
                                            
I believe every man is bisexual to some degree (even me). But it isn't easy to 
approach a guy who is probably ninety percent or plus hetero. Oddly enough, it 
was Tristan who gave me the opening. We had had dinner...a microwave 
convenience dish, but none the worse for that in my opinion. And we had got 
well into the second bottle of wine. He was sitting on the sofa. Me on a stool 
by the fire (gas).

'Never seem to see you with a girl on your arm, Harold. Odd, a handsome guy 
like you.'

'You noticed. I suppose it's obvious really, though I try to be discrete.'

'You mean?'

'Yes, I'm gay.'

'But you're not at all camp, Harold.'

'We aren't all raving queens! I go for straight looking guys, and like guys who 
go for straight looking guys too.'

'Like me?' He  was slurring his voice a bit. He had drunk much more than me, 
probably as a result of the day's stress.

I got up and sat beside him on the sofa. As part of the same motion I put my 
hand on his knee, rested it there, and then lightly gripped it. 'Like you, Tristan. 
Exactly like you!' My cock was hard, and I made no attempt to disguise the 
obvious bulge in my suit. 'See what you've done to me?' I took his hand and 
placed it on my cock.

'You know, Harold, I've not done this for at least ten years, not since I was a 
teen. It didn't seem so serious then.'

'And it's not now either, Tristan. Just a bit of fun between friends. Nothing 
serious.' My hand was on his cock now, grasping it through his light suiting. 
I'd wanted this all month, and now here it was! 'I want to kiss you.'

'I'm not sure....' But I interrupted him, my lips shutting his with a kiss. I was 
all over him, laying half across him. His lips parted, and I slipped my tongue 
in. His hand was still on my cock, crushed between our two bodies. Surely he 
would feel it twitch in anticipation. Now I could feel him hardening against 
me. I laughed. 

'You see, you, too, Tristan.'    I held his cock through the thin suiting, and we 
sat there side by side, hand on each other's cock. My heart was beating, and I 
had that feeling of sexual tension, tight across my chest. There was a little drop 
of sweat on his smooth upper lip. I licked it off and kissed him again; this time 
his tongue slipped into my mouth. 

'And what did you do "ten years ago when you were a teen", Tristan?'

'Just this, really Harold. Just took them out and wanked...'

I was unzipping him, and took his cock out. It was as handsome as I had 
guessed from the photos. Tall, straight, and a lovely plum of a cut knob. A few 
wisps of reddish gold hair. 'Take mine out, then, Tristan.'

He was fumbling with my zip and then my underpants. ''You did it with a lot 
of boys then, Tristan?'

'No. Only one. Tall, thin boy called Henry. It just happened one day, and we 
kept on with it most days, till his parents finally left town and we lost contact.' 
He had it out now, and was rubbing me up and down the shaft.

'But I bet you wanted a few others. I know I used to.' There was no answer as 
I cradled his balls with one hand slipped into his trousers, and wanked him 
with the other.

'But we're not little boys now, are we. Let's go to bed. It'll be much better.' I 
got up and pulled him from the settee with one hand. His cock waved in front 
of him as we went across to the stairs. He stumbled on the first step.

'Hey, you're pissed Tristan!' I laughed, and guided him up, one of my hands 
on each cheek of his buttocks as I pushed and supported him.

'Whoops!' He stumbled again. 'I think I've drunk too much!' He was giggling 
now as I felt his muscles move under his suit, under my palms. I was thinking, 
this was for the best. Not only had the booze loosened his inhibitions, it would 
later give him an excuse if he felt bad about it in the morning. Because I was 
going to have that lovely prick.

He was still giggling as he undressed, hopping about clumsily as he forgot to 
take his shoes off before removing his trousers. This was fun! I was naked 
long before him, and had the pleasure of slipping his shoes and socks off while 
he collapsed on top of me on the carpet. I shut his mouth with mine for a 
moment, and we were caressing each other as I undid the buttons on his shirt. 
He had an almost hairless chest, just the lightest golden fluff around his tiny 
pink nipples. I kissed a nipple and nibbled it lightly. He was giggling again. 
'That tickles!' I slipped the shirt off him, and now he had only his white y-
fronts, the cotton caught underneath his balls so they were raised up against 
the base of his cock, so stiff it had nearly sprung onto his flat belly. I pulled 
them down over his slender legs, down over the golden hairs on his thighs. We 
lay on the carpet, laughing and embracing.

Bed beckoned! This was all very well, but I do like my comfort, and the 
sprung mattress would be preferable to my prickly carpet! I got up and pulled 
him to his feet. I propelled him to the edge of the bed, and tipped him over 
backwards onto the blue satin bedspread. He held onto me so I fell on top of 
him, and we lay there in each other's arms, kissing furiously.

Finally I rolled him over a bit so we were nearer the middle of the bed and 
knelt beside him. He giggled, and reached for my cock. His was standing, 
incredibly springy. I licked around one nipple and then the other. I sucked on 
one while I gently rubbed his cock up and down, thumb and index finger round 
it. He groaned as I nibbled the other nipple. Now I licked down to his navel, 
and around the belly button. My forehead touched his knob and it twitched. I 
moved and lay beside him, my cock close to his face. I kissed the helmet of his 
prick, and then the moment I had schemed for. I took his knob into my mouth. 
Slowly I let the whole shaft penetrate, and then drew my cheeks in to suck 
hard, before allowing him to withdraw it a bit. Because he was fucking now, 
fucking my mouth.

I felt his hands on my hips, and then the lightest of touches on the end of my 
cock. he was experimenting! He was touching my knob with the tip of his 
tongue. Yes! And now I felt his lips round me, and we were sucking each other 
properly.

I was hyper-excited, but I knew enough to hold myself in till I tasted the first 
gush of his cum. Then I let myself go, and came in his virgin mouth. He 
gagged, but was excited by his own orgasm, and swallowed. I sucked and 
swallowed, and felt him gulping as he swallowed mine.

In the night he snored. But I looked at that hard body, that cute butt, and 
decided I could put up with a bed-partner with such a physique, whatever his 
habits.

                                      .........................................................

I woke first, and we lay side-by-side drinking coffee I'd made. I shaved, and 
passed him my electric razor.

'You look rough, Tristan. Good job it's Saturday.'

'Drank too much! This coffee's good.'

I touched his chin. 'That'll do. Smooth as your bottom!' I laughed. 'What we 
need is a shower. come on.'

We soaped ourselves, and then I soaped his back, the hot stinging jets of water 
doing wonders for us. I had been hard for ten minutes, and Tristan was clearly 
excited but did not become erect till we were in the shower. And he only really 
got springy-hard when I soaped his buttocks, making sure I caressed his cock 
and balls as well.

'Used to be like that at School, Harold. The other boys laughed at me when I 
got hard in the showers.'

'They didn't then?'

'Mostly not. Oh, don't stop. That's good. Most didn't.'

'Only that tall slender boy?'

'Johnny! How did you know that? Oh, I remember. I told you last night. Yes, 
they took the piss out of him too for getting hard.'

'I didn't go to that sort of school, Tristan. No showers for us. Home all sweaty 
from the field and a solitary wank in the bathroom. No, no showers for us. 
Pity. I know I'd be hard like you and Johnny. Jesus, what a thought! A dozen 
naked teens! What I've missed by not being upper-class, Tristan.' He gave a 
little squeak as I slipped my index finger into his anus, withdrawing it 
immediately.

'Hey! Soap my back now, Tristan.'

Good job the lad didn't mind hairy bears, because I'm really furry. My back 
too. Anyway, he caressed my shoulders and back very cursorily before soaping 
my buttocks, especially the crease. He slipped his finger in. I did not squeak!

'That's nice. I love that, Tristan.; I reached over my head and braced myself 
against the tiles, jutting my arse out towards him. His finger was well in me. 
'Fuck me, Tristan. Put your cock in me. I love that.'  

I could feel him soaping his prick, its head firm in my crease. He eased it in 
surprisingly gently. He rested a moment, deep in me, his thighs pressing my 
buttocks, hands on my hips.
Then he fucked. As his excitement rose, so he fucked harder and harder, 
almost brutally. I was jerking my cock as fiercely as I could, my hand slipping 
up and down in the fine, hot jets of water. I came, spurting onto the tiles. But 
he was still fucking. Then I felt him come. 

He was oddly quiet as we dried each other and dressed.

                                                 ..................................................

That evening we had a few drinks and then went on to a gay club I used a lot at 
that time. I introduced Tristan to various friends and lovers. He was popular, 
with his good looks and charming manner, and I took pleasure in watching 
him dancing with several of my friends. I had the last dance before we left.

At home, we showered again. This time I teased him, making him wait till we 
were in bed, despite his urgent caresses.

On the bed he lay on his belly. I rested my cheek on his smooth buttock and 
stroked the firm flesh. On an impulse, I lay between his legs and licked his 
anus. He giggled.

'That tickles. Don't stop!'

I licked harder, round and round, and slipped my tongue into him. I felt him 
press back onto me, forcing my tongue in a further centimeter.

'That's lovely.' He was wriggling under me now, and I was still stroking his 
buttocks.

'Everyone likes to be rimmed.' 

'I say, Harold, when I fucked you in the shower, did you really enjoy it?'

'I should think that was obvious.'

'I mean really? Not just the wanking...'

'Really!'

'And what about the first time you did it? Did it hurt? It must have.' I was still 
rimming his pretty, little, tight arsehole.

'I was lucky. My first lover was skilled. Knew how to make it good.'

'Show me, Harold. I want you to fuck me.'

I turned him over and kissed him on the lips. 'Of course, Tristan.' 

The long-awaited seduction began. I took immense care with him. This was 
not only for me. It was for all those other lovers who would  follow me. 
Tristan was just too pretty a boy to waste, and I owed it to myself and to all my 
fellows (and to him!) to make him eager for fucking.

I like to use scented oil. I buy a light white oil, and perfume it with a few drops 
of concentrated essence. So the room was filled with the scent of lavender as I 
spilled it into the cleft of his buttocks and it met his warm flesh. As we kissed 
and cuddled side-by-side, I slipped my index finger into him. We whispered, 
me praising his lovely smooth body, he kissing my shoulders and feeling my 
muscular biceps. He was telling me how he loved the masses of black hair on 
my chest, back, belly....everywhere! As I had penetrated him, his anus had 
contracted, of course, the reflex action gripping me tight. I gradually taught 
him to control this, until he could relax his anus at will. I had two fingers in 
him now, and was moving them in and out.

It was nearly time, and I had him kneel, and then lay with a couple of pillows 
under his belly. I masturbated him again, this time with my thumb. I caressed 
his hips, back and shoulders with my free hand, always praising his body, and 
the way he had relaxed his arsehole for me. He was groaning and moaning 
with pleasure, and his cock fucking the pillow under him.  I love masturbating 
a pretty boy with my thumb, as it means my fingers are free to tickle and 
fondle his balls at the same time. 

'Do you want it, Tristan?'

'Now! Please, Harold.'

Thumb out, and cock in, knob, and then the whole shaft until my thighs 
touched his buttocks, my hands grasping his hips. He was up for it, and had 
one hand under himself wanking away at his cock while I, gently at first, 
fucked him.

It's a good job my walls are thick. He shouted his pleasure and excitement as 
he writhed and wriggled beneath me. I could catch some of his words. 'Gotta 
wank! Faster! Harder! Wank!' Well, you've got the idea. I was holding his 
hips, pulling him onto me as  I thrust in, and pushing him down again as I 
pulled out. Then I found myself spanking his bottom first with one hand and 
then with the other, one slap with each thrust. His smooth buttocks pinkened, 
while his hand still jerked frantically at his cock. It was just too good, and I 
could not wait. I came, emptying my spunk into his arse. I collapsed onto him, 
kissing his back, while he still wanked. Then he came and became still.

We lay silent for a long time. His arse expelled my cock, and I heard him sigh.

                                            .................................................

He went back to his wife about three months after. He told me it was as much 
for financial as for sexual reasons: the divorce looked as if it would cost both 
of them. He had been open with her about his newly-confirmed bisexuality, 
and it emerged she had benefited from their vacation from each other to taste 
the pleasures of lesbian love, as well as several male partners. She told him his 
performance compared well with most of the men she had sampled. I was not 
surprised.   

So it would be no problem for Tristan and myself to enjoy the occasional fuck. 
And to tell you the truth, a break from the intensity of our relationship over 
those months was welcome to me. His place in my bed was filled, at least for a 
while, by a pretty young Afro lad from the mail-room.

My opposite number in The States tells me that Bernice is doing well there, 
already promoted, and working her way up the company, on her back, legs 
open.

                                                      FIN


 

 
