His face lost in pleasure. Damon wanted him that way forever.“Shit!” Damon swore. Where the fuck had that come from? Tristan was getting under his...skin. That was not okay.Damon buried his face in Tristan’s neck, held him tightly in place and started thrusting, trying to keep his rhythm slow, but he knew that with this intense feeling, he couldn't last long. He thrust faster, using shorter strokes, barely pulling out at all before slamming back in and he could hear whimpers and grunts but wasn't. "Why the hell not? I've got all kinds of oils and lotions in my bedroom. We could even improvise a massage table in there. Besides like Miguel said, you're the expert, right?" She said her tone challenging his ego. After a tension soaked couple of minutes, he conceded, and they allmoved to her bedroom, here she quickly cleared a long table she for the massage session, then she took off her robe and wrapped a towel about her torso. Paul asked her to lie on the table face up and preceded with a. More

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