Damon moved a hand around Tristan’s waist and pulled his hips closer to him in the middle of the seat. Tristan was so lost in all the delicious sensations, he groaned in protest when Damon separated their lips. Damon pulled the sweatpants down Tristan’s hips and freed his leaking cock.“Damon what are you doing?” Tristan asked breathlessly. His hard cock slapped against his covered stomach and the gushing pre-cum leaked onto his t-shirt. He didn’t think he had ever been this hard in his life.“Something I need to do. I can’t think when I’m this hard.” Damon said taking Tristan’s cock into his hand. He gave it a hard stroke and Tristan groaned, tendons cording his neck. He watched with heavy-lidded eyes as Damon’s tongue darted out and licked the tip of his dick.“Fuck Damon.” Tristan moaned and wiggled, spreading his legs wider. Hungry moans bubbled in his throat.Damon made a noise of pleasure and reached between his legs to cup his balls. Tristan’s head fell back into the sofa cushion,. She was standing in front of a weather map, talking about the possibility of a storm coming the next day. The name on the bottom of the screen said, "Kelly Frost".I couldn't believe my eyes. It was definitely her -- she carried herself like a queen, an Ice Queen, with the ramrod straight posture of a ballerina and the expression of a prim fifth grade Math teacher on her face. She had on a white silk blouse that buttoned all the way up to her neck and a tight brown plaid skirt that hugged her hips but didn't show too much leg. She smiled and joked with the other newscasters when she was finished her report, but she was all business, you could tell.Except I knew she had a wild side.A weather caster! I was flabbergasted. I don't pay much attention to weather forecasts on TV, and besides, Kelly Frost was working for a station that was 40 miles north of where I lived in Michigan, and I had never bothered looking at that station before.My mind was racing now, thinking about just what would.
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