AUTHOR: The TrifectaLy
RATING: "PG" (please see Glossary for explanation of rating)
CHARACTERS / PAIRING: Hotass
SUMMARY: Hotass pays a special visit to a TrifectaLy meeting, where he bears a lot more than his soul.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Not for the faint of heart. Each paragraph is written by a different member of the TrifectaLy, brought together to form one fluid story.
DISCLAIMER: This is all original. We actually didn't have to borrow anything. Except his name. And of course we had to kidnap Hotass. But he got his groove on through his own will. We're simply retelling the occasion as we remember it.

Tristan eyes the members of the TrifectaLy watching his every move with naked hunger written on their faces. He knows what they're waiting for, and knows that he must comply. However, he will not just give in to their every whim. He will draw it out as long as possible, playing with them. He saunters over and slowly tugs at the intersection of his collar and tie. Is it getting hot? With a seductive smile, he casually unbuttons his blazer with deft fingers. One button. Two buttons. Three buttons. The girls become agitated and restless. Nonchalantly, as if he were unaware of the four sets of eyes trained on him, he slips out of his blazer. One long arm, obviously muscled, even through the thin fabric of his shirt. Then the next. He grins and hands the blazer to a swooning Meg.

Turning his back to his captive audience, fully aware that he's showing them exactly what they want, he loosens his tie. With one swift tug, the tie comes free, dangling from his outstretched hand. 'Accidentally' it falls to the floor. Bending over to retrieve the tie, his pants stretch tightly over the taught muscles in his buttocks. Gasps abound from the attentive group, as they all lean in for a closer look. Turning around again, he silences the sighs of disappointment, draping the tie around Ly's neck, and pulling her so her face is within inches of his own. Holding her gaze for a slight second, he pulls away, watching her regain her balance from her precarious position on the seat of her chair. Straightening, his hands move to his waist as cries of "take it off" echo through the room.

His long, nimble fingers curl around the stiff fabric of his light blue shirt. Grasping the garment firmly, he slowly relieves it from the confines of his pants. One side, the other, then the back. Now successfully released, it dangles unrestrained on his tight body, shielding the defined muscles that hide beneath it. One hand reaches for the opposite wrist and gently frees the fastener, opening the cuff, repeating with the other. Tasting the anticipation in the room, his rough hands venture toward the top button. Caressing it with his index finger and thumb, he coyly eyes Winnie. A stoic expression canvassing his sculpted face, inwardly he smirks, reveling in the sweet torture he is creator of. The first button is released, then the second, third and so on, slowly revealing a white tank top that is obviously far too tight. With the last button undone, the shirt hangs open loosely showing just enough of the tank underneath. He mischievously walks toward Heidi and stopping in front of her, her eyes are met with his chest defined through the thin fabric. Her eyes slowly gaze up his torso, lingering on his pecks for a moment, eventually meeting his stare. The temptation is all encompassing and too much to bear. Holding her gaze he softly rolls the crisp article off his shoulders. Slipping down his strong arms, it softly meets the floor.

"MORE!" the four screamed, anticipation flooding their glistening eyes. He looked up at them with a devilish grin. Running his fingers through his blonde hair, the girls stare in awe, their mouths wide open. He knew his actions were slowly driving them crazy. All eyes were focused on his every movement. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Meg quickly becomes restless. In a desperate attempt to move the proceedings along, she anxiously takes her glass of water and tosses it at him. The liquid immediately penetrates the thin fabric of his tank, adhering it to his chest, exposing a greater detailed view of his tight body and amazing abdomen. Meg, obviously ashamed at her brash behavior, averts her eyes in embarrassment. Unfazed by his sudden saturated state, he gently reaches over and pulls her face up to meet his eyes, smiling to ease her discomfort. Looking deeply within his eyes, she freezes and becomes lost in his stare. He leans in slowly, barely touching her lips, the abruptly turns away and moves on to Heidi. Meg sat there dumbfounded, hardly aware she came within inches of his tender lips. Heidi acted as if she was unaffected by the fact that he was staring at her now. Drinking her Pepsi through pursed lips, she eyed him out of the corner of her eyes. Still drenched in water, he ventured slowly. Beads of sweat started to form on her forehead as he inched closer to her body. Taking the bottle out of her grasp, he slowly takes a sip, then places it down and takes her hand. Gently he lifts her hand and places it on his left peck so she could feel his rhythmically beating heart. He softly slides her hand down his body. Her fingers graze over every definition and rest on his toned abs. She too becomes frozen in awe. Winnie had become quite envious of Meg and Heidi by now. But he wasn't done yet. Little did she know, she was up next. Leaving Heidi, he made his way over to Winnie and again takes her hand and places it on his body. Gently caressing her hand, he slowly trails it down his stomach and motions for her to pull the soaked garment out of his pants. She reaches around him and helps him out of it, tugging a bit too eagerly. Pulling the tank slowly over his head, she stares deeply into his eyes, his gazing right back into hers. Still holding the wet article in her hands, he smiles turning away, and they all get a well-deserved look at his sculpted back.

Winnie clutches the drenched tank in her hands, unaware of the jealousy in her friends' eyes. But soon, all is forgotten, and Tristan becomes the center of attention again. There is still a show to put on, and many more articles of clothing left to be dispensed with. With his back still turned to them, Tristan's hands move towards his waist, causing a rippling effect that flows from the muscles in his back down through the muscles underneath his pants. Ly reaches out, grasping Meg's arm before she can pounce on an unsuspecting Tristan. He's fumbling with something, and the girls strain their necks to see his every movement. Hesitating slightly, he turns his head and gives them a contemplative look over his shoulders. Then grinning slyly, he turns around unhurriedly. He knows the girls will wait for him, even if it kills them. The girls groan, seeing that the rest of his clothes are still intact. But the groans stop as he moves stealthily towards them, every step made with a calculated deliberateness. It's a game, one that he is a pro at, and every move is made to draw out their torture. His head cocked slightly to one side, he gives Ly a seductive smile and reaches for her hand. Eyes lost in the deep blue of his, she willingly lets him direct it, having lost all control over her own motor functions. The others are too caught up in his spell to complain about the attention Ly is receiving. Gently, he places her hands at the top of his pants. Ly eagerly clutches at the waistband, misunderstanding. He promptly covers her hand with his, giving her a scolding, but teasing, look. She must not rush things. There is an order to this game. First the belt, then other and better things. He redirects her hands towards the belt buckle, which is now at her eye level. Ly swallows, remembering to keep her eyes focused on the task at hand, and not on other things. Lower things. Her hands shaking, she struggles with the buckle, distracted by his closeness. Meg and Heidi, sitting on either side of her, suppress the urge to reach out and help her with the offending item. Sweating and visibly flustered, Ly manages to undo the buckle. As she hastily reaches to pull the pesky belt, Tristan takes a quick step away. He'll be doing the honors this time, knowing just the right speed to agitate his audience. He gives each girl a sultry look, making their hearts pound faster. They know what is coming next. With an infuriating slowness, his hand grasps the buckle end of his black belt. Slowly -- ever so slowly -- he begins to tug, gyrating his hips in almost undetectable circles to aid the belt's journey. The girls' eyes immediately gravitate towards his waist, mouths hanging open with anticipation. Tristan grins triumphantly, but they do not see it. They are focused on more important things, eyes glued to the belt's progress through the belt loops of the grey pants, ears perked up, straining to hear the tantalizing sound of leather sliding against cotton. After what feels like an excruciatingly painful eternity, the end of the belt clears the last loop. All four faces simultaneously glance up to meet Tristan's eyes. He is still smirking, empowered by the control he has over them. The corner of his mouth curls up in a leer as he drops the offending belt on the floor. They all exhale, mesmerized, their eyes following its rapid descent to the ground. They know what comes next, and Tristan is already one step ahead of them. As they return their gaze back up his body, they notice that his hands are already waiting at the top of his pants.

His hands linger at his waist, fingers tapping out a steady rhythm as he contemplates his next move. With their eyes focused intently on his, ...umm, lower half, his hands unexpectedly drop to his sides. Shocked, they turn their gaze upon his face. His head lowered slightly, his blue eyes bore into theirs, silently requesting affirmation that they are prepared for what comes next. Heads bob up and down emphatically, as Meg lets slip an "Oh yeah baby." Taking his cue, he saunters over to Meg, casting brief glances at the others, reassuring them that there will be plenty to go around. Standing in front of her, he leans over, placing his hands at her waist. Slowly he drags his palms over her thighs, taking hold of her knees, separating them to uncover the seat of her chair. His eyes never leaving her face, he confidently places his foot on the seat between her knees. Taking small gasps of air, she tries to regain her composure, as her eyes dart around the room, avoiding his stare. He reaches out and takes her chin, tipping her head, forcing her to meet his gaze. When her eyes finally settle on his, he purses his lips, and blows her a kiss. Trailing a finger along her jaw line, he slowly retreats. Taking his position in front of them again, he cherishes the slow pace at which he is moving. Once again, his hands return to the top of his pants. Toying with their patience, he again drops them to his side. Ly lets out a silent groan, as Winnie's chin drops, refusing to believe that he would put them through this agony again. Raising a hand, he waves off their protests. He takes a few steps forward, closing the distance between them. Swaggering over to Ly, he slowly leans in, letting her feel his warm breath on her lips. Taunting her with his eyes, she barely notices when he takes hold of the seat of her chair, pulling her closer to his stage. Backing away, he repeats this gesture with the other three, who each eagerly await their turn. With everyone comfortably settled into the more intimate setup, he returns to the task at hand. The silver ring on his finger flashes as he slowly traces his middle finger around the edge of the button. Four pairs of eyes watch his sultry movement, as he finally comes to a halt. Running one hand through his tousled hair, he utilizes the other to forcefully free the button from its threads. Delicately holding it between his thumb and forefinger, he gently tosses it in the direction of the drooling clan. Meg and Winnie jump from their chairs, grasping for the coveted button, as Ly and Heidi ignore the commotion, intently focused on the chiseled body in front of them. With the button out of the way, Tristan’s hand takes hold of the metal zipper. In a move of mock embarrassment, he quickly turns his back to his audience. He coyly looks over his shoulder beckoning their encouragement. Succumbing to their urging, he turns to face his audience, spreading his legs wide, giving himself a broad base to steady himself for the gyrating to follow. The quiet clicking of the descending zipper resounds through the deafening silence. When the zipper reaches the end of its course, he raises his eyebrows in anticipation of the next step. Lacing his fingers behind his head, he begins to swivel his hips ever so slightly. With each tiny movement, the cotton pants slip further and further down. On the edge of their seats, the TrifectaLy can barely contain their excitement, as the grey cotton pants relinquish their hold on his hips. Fearing that the restless crowd will lunge and complete the job for him, he decides that the time has come. Grasping the waistband of the falling pants, he quickly pushes them to the floor, steps out of the right leg, then the left, kicking them across the floor. The girls are quickly reaching their breaking point. Their eyes fixate on the thin boxer shorts, all that separates them from the coup de grace.

The time had come. The moment everyone was waiting for had at last arrived. The whole purpose of the night's events. The grand finale. He could see the worn expressions the four TrifectaLy members wore on their beautiful faces. He saw the expectancy and apprehension in their eyes. The hunger and want...the need. For a moment he felt a slight wave of embarrassment rush through him. He was actually going to do it. But that's all it was...a moment. A slight wave. It passed almost as quickly as it had begun and that familiar arrogance filled him once more. The smirk revealed itself again and the sensual lust inundated his eyes. Ly was becoming far too agitated for her liking. All she knew was that it better happen and it better happen soon! Winnie sat in tormented silence willing every part of her being to maintain some form of composure. Repeatedly throughout the 'show' she had kept thinking to herself that maybe this wasn't one of her best ideas. Far too much agony and anticipation. But it all came down to this moment. And now, staring a hole through those excruciatingly thin boxers, she was undoubtedly sure that this was the best idea anyone could have ever come up with. Giving one last lingering look to the eager women, Tristan turned his back to his audience. Meg, gazing at the sculpted man, bit her lip trying to fight the anxious craving rapidly consuming her body. Heidi's jaw clenched as her hand gripped the side of her chair. He felt their eyes on him. On his back - a little lower. He raised his arms to his hips, and his hands came to rest on the thick elastic band grasping hold of his smooth waist. Looping his thumbs under the band, with the ever-present smirk painted across his face, he was finally released from the menacing garment, unleashing himself to them. He closed his eyes as he yanked and smiled. He heard the gasps almost immediately, opening his eyes to the passionate sounds, inept to wipe the smile from his face. Mere seconds passed, but it seemed an eternity. Gaining control over his emotions, he returned the smirk once again and in one fluid motion whirled around to face his admirers. Ly's eyes immediately focused on the obvious object of desire and she slid right off her chair onto the floor with a hard thud. Although no one seemed to observe the odd occurrence, nor did she. Their attention was locked on the target. Every one of them grinning from ear to ear, relieved, satisfied. Instantly gratified.