Drawing Straws: Damon
Damon is finished with his cancer treatments and the weekend starts with a welcome announcement and only gets better from there. Tork has another surprise for his men, though, one that will cement their lives together forever.
Join the foursome in this final installment of Drawing Straws.
“And you’re about to get your sweet ass fucked six ways to Sunday.” God, Tork was hard and couldn’t wait to get in there.
“Maybe. Maybe you strip me down and decide I’m too skinny.”
Tork thought Damon was one sexy fucker and always would, no matter how much Damon needed a few steaks. Especially as he had color back in his cheeks. “I know how skinny you are. Besides, that’s what the lasagna and grapes are for.”
“Grapes and strawberries, breakfast of champions.” Damon licked his lips and rubbed his belly. They’d brought strawberries of course, but Tork wanted to save them for later.
“No wonder you’re so skinny.” Tork knew that was all Damon had been able to stomach for ages. And even if he only had one bite of the lasagna, it would still be great to see him eating good, solid food.
“At least I won’t get rickets.”
“Gross.” Tork wrinkled his nose.
“That is so not sexy,” Erik added, joining them in the bedroom.
“What? Saying rickets or getting it?” Damon asked. Their lover was flying and it was adorable.
“Both. Can we change the subject?” Erik asked.
Tork snorted and put Damon down on the bed. “I’ve got the subject change you need right here.”
Damon was wearing warm, soft clothes, the fabrics gentle on his skin. They were almost molded to Damon, making the most enticing picture.
Still, skin would be even better and Tork began to strip Damon, Erik helping. Even with the two of them, it was taking time, both him and Erik bending to lick and kiss and nibble the smooth skin as it was revealed. They had all weekend and could take as long as they wanted on any part of Damon. Tork revelled in the lack of chemicals and sickly taste on Damon’s skin.
When Joe came up, he pressed one of the bottles of pop on the bottom of Damon’s foot, making Damon squeal.
“Butthead,” Erik accused.
Tork figured it had probably felt good. Besides, how fucking cool was it that they didn’t have to treat Damon with kid gloves anymore?
“That’s our Joe.” Damon just beamed at their grumpy cop.
Tork chuckled then started stripping himself, pulling off his clothes so there could be that magical skin on skin thing happening. By the time he was done, Erik had Damon spread and was touching him, fingers pushing deep.
“You gettin’ him good and ready for me ‘rik?” Tork wanted first go. He needed to sink into Damon’s beautiful body, feel Damon’s heat wrapped tight around his cock.
“I’m getting him all relaxed and melty.” Erik finger-fucked Damon a little faster.
“Not too melty.” Tork winked and grabbed the lube, getting his cock slick. He was so ready.
“I like him melty.” Erik touched Damon’s little nips and their lover took a deep breath.
“Oh.” Damon’s word was more breath than sound, not quite a sigh.
“See? That’s not melty, that’s hard. So’s the piece between his legs.” Tork climbed onto the bed, fucking ecstatic. His Cricket—their Cricket—was hard.
He wrapped his fingers around Damon’s cock, weighing the stiff length. They hadn’t seen this in far too long.
“Fuck, that’s the most beautiful cock I’ve seen in for-fucking ever.” Erik almost sounded like he wanted to get it bronzed. Which would be a terrible waste.
“Out of my way,” growled Joe, pushing onto the bed.
Tork wasn’t even sure what Joe meant until Joe bent and took the head Damon’s cock into his mouth.
Damon gasped, flailing wildly. “Please!”
Oh. Oh, fuck. Look at that. Tork let go of Damon’s cock, letting Joe have his way.
Joe was like a hoover, taking Damon’s cock in all the way, head beginning to bob.
Tork’s prick throbbed, and he needed in, needed to join them.
smut fixes everything