Collin closed the door and walked up to Tristan‘s bedside with a mischievous grin on his lips. He placed his hands on the bottom hem of his shirt and slowly, sensually, lifted.
He tilted his head toward Collin, his gaze roaming over the taut abdomen peeking out from under the t-shirt. “What are you doing?”
Collin licked his lips, glanced at Tristan‘s groin and focused on his face. “Trying to decide what the best position would be for you to draw me.”
Tristan lurched up to sitting on his bed. “What?”
Giving a quick tilt of his head, Collin tugged the shirt up and off and threw it to the floor. “You heard me. Naked, partially clothed, or maybe just some sheets wrapped around me?” His hands fell to unfasten his belt and jeans. The jeans dropped to the floor. His cock stood up hard and ready under the thin cotton of his boxers.
His breathing grew shallow and his own cock swelled at the site of Collin‘s erection. “Um, um…”
“Naked, yeah.” In one quick movement, Collin stepped out of his tennis shoes and jeans and brought the boxers down and off with his socks. He straightened. A smirk ran across his lips. His hand came up to cup his sac. “How‘s this?”
“Uh…” Tristan‘s hardened cock ached in his jeans and he adjusted himself, squeezing the head of his erection. It pulsed as a wave of pleasure washed over him.
Keeping his gaze affixed to Tristan‘s eyes, Collin backed up to his bed and lay across it, placed one arm up, bent, and behind his head like a pin up in a magazine. His free hand came up to rest on his erection. He gave it one long, slow stroke and hissed, closing his eyes and thrusting his hips. “Just like this, Tristan. Capture me touching myself, thinking of you. Thinking of your mouth on my cock. Do it.” He slid his hand up and down his shaft in an agonizingly slow motion. His brows furrowed and his mouth opened in obvious pleasure.
Tristan‘s body shook with need. His cock grew painful, aching for release at the site of Collin. “O-kay, um, let me get my things.” His voice wavered. Gulping hard, he crouched down and retrieved the charcoals and drawing pad from the portfolio. He sat back up on his bed and set the pad in his lap to draw. He looked at Collin.
Pre-seed glistened at the tip of Collin‘s cock. His fingers ran over it and swirled it over the head of his erection. His hips thrust up and a throaty groan released from his mouth.
Tristan‘s sac tightened and felt full. Even the slightest movement might send him over the edge. “Oh shit, Collin. I-I don‘t think I can do this.”
In a husky voice, Collin said, “Yes you can. I want my picture to be the only one you need. The only one you can‘t sell or even show to anyone because it means so much to you.” His fingers slipped down his shaft and ran circles over his sac. Gasping, his body shuddered.
Holding his breath, he forced himself to focus on the perfect curves and lines of Collin‘s body, the contours of muscle and tendon, the beautiful arc of his thick cock and rounded buttocks. Desire jolted through him, making him raw with need. He shut his eyes tight. Shit, focus, Tristan. His eyes opened. He blew out a breath and drew with an artist‘s eye, seeing shapes and shadow and light.
Lifting his hips again, Collin‘s palm stroked hard over his erection and circled the top. He let out one soft moan after another. “Lick me, Tristan. Just once.”
Tristan‘s hand stopped over the drawing. His cock twitched in his jeans. “Uh, just once?”
“Yeah, come on. Just once.” He stroked his swollen cock down and up with his thumb and index finger. “Hurry, I‘m close.”
Tristan set the drawing pad and charcoal stick on the bed, stepped over to Collin and leaned over his waist, resting on his elbows. Collin‘s erection was a mere inch from his lips. How he hungered for it.
“Come on, Tristan. But just once. I don‘t want to cum yet.” Collin‘s fingers released their hold on his cock.