Connor - St. Patrick's Day

Sometime around one in the morning, Brittany was throwing up in the bathroom, and the girls wanted to get her out, which meant the boyfriends had to leave with them. Leaving me, the only single guy, to continue drinking on the holiest of Irish holidays. Well…for a college guy, anyway.

About twenty minutes after everyone left, I decided St. Patrick’s Day was over, and I was going to call it a night, but first, I needed to take a piss before heading back to my dorm. 

Drunk at the trough urinal, I was letting my stream fly when a guy stood next to me and whipped his out, and started taking a piss. I could tell he was drunk from the way he swayed as he pissed…or maybe I was swaying.

“Oh shit, a real ginger,” he commented on my bright red hair.

I chuckled, “the real deal.”

He tried to glance at my dick, “Does the carpet match the drapes?”

I laughed, “Sure does,” and I turned my stream towards him so he could get a better look. I’m not shy; I’m proud of my sausage.

“Oh shit, and you’re uncircumcised,” he chuckled.

I was surprised by that comment, and even though my pale cheeks were turning red, I glanced at his dick; he was circumcised and looked a bit bigger than mine all around. It's a darker color than I would expect from a guy as pale as him, with a dark brown bush matching his wavy brown mop on his head. I couldn’t help but laugh at him as I shook my dick and tucked it away. “First look’s free, gotta buy me a drink for the show.” I washed my hands and returned to the bar to grab my jacket off my stool and I threw down some cash as I made eye contact with the bartender.

My new bathroom buddy put his hand on my shoulder, “let me buy the true Irishman a drink,” he said.

I looked at my watch, “I won’t say no to a shot of Jameson,” I told him, feeling drunk but never too drunk for some Jameson.

“Now we’re talking,” he gestured to a group of guys over at the pool table, “those pussies don’t know how to drink.” He flagged over the bartender, who knew him by name. “Four shots of Jameson, good sir.”

I chuckled, shaking my head.

About an hour and four shots each later, I was wasted, but my new friend Martin seemed to be doing just fine.

“Looks like your friends ditched you,” I chuckled.

“Aww, those fuckers,” he shook his head. “It’s alright; I’m right around the corner on Water St,” he shrugged.

“Oh good,” I grinned, feeling my face burn from all the alcohol and wondering how I would get home now that it was so late.

“You trying to come back to my place?” he asked.

I chuckled; what a weird question. “Are you inviting me?”

He glanced around, “well, everyone else jumped ship,” he leaned in and whispered, “plus I’ve already seen your dick, so…”

I didn’t understand what he meant by that, but it would be convenient to crash at his place a block or two away rather than come up with cab money and try to find a cab this time of night. I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed his muscular trap, placing my index finger on one of his pecs, “Yeah, you know what? I will go home with you.”

He chuckled, “You know, you did say if I bought you a drink, you’d give me a full show.”

I took a deep breath, “did I?”

He grinned, throwing cash down on the bar, “You did, and this is me paying for my show…so…let’s go,” he chuckled.

“Oh shit. Well,” I placed my hand over my heart, “an Irishman is only as good as his word,” I chuckled, playing his game.

He grinned, “Prove it,” he grabbed his jacket.

We walked out, and the fresh air hit me like a wave of ice water to the face, waking me up enough to realize how drunk I was. I giggled, “I fucking love St. Patricks Day.”

“Me too,” he said.

It took us only a few minutes of walking and one flight of very difficult stairs, with a lot of shushing as we both stifled laughter and stumbled into his apartment. He had a studio apartment with a queen bed against the wall and a double window that looked out to the street to the bed's long side. He tossed his jacket on a hook and helped me get mine off.

Then he pulled a bottle of tequila off the counter, “I don’t have Jameson, but it’s after midnight, so this isn’t a sin, is it?” He didn’t wait for me to respond before pouring us each a shot.

This guy was going to kill me, or at least my liver.

“Cheers,” he held up his shot.

I smiled and shook my head, “Cheers,” and downed it. “Ugh, it’s like drinking piss,” I joked.

“You’re crazy; tequila is the best,” he laughed.

“Tequila is dangerous,” I shook my head. “Shot for shot I’ve never had, never had a night of drinking tequila go as well as a good Irish whiskey.” Then I giggled as I watched him pour me another shot.

“That’s the best part! Waking up and wondering, what the fuck did I do last night,” he laughed.

“The last time I did tequila…” I thought back, then laughed, “You know what…I don’t remember.”

He laughed, “You know what I remember? You promised me a show if I bought you a drink.” He nudged the shot glass closer to me.

I laughed, “Hmm…I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

He grinned, “Yeah, right after you showed me your dick at the urinal,” he kicked his thumb over his shoulder to point at the bar down the street.

I couldn’t help but laugh, “When I showed you my dick? You were staring so hard I thought you were going to suck it,” I joked.

“Nah, I don’t suck dick on a first date,” he joked.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

He turned the radio on in the corner; 92.3 was playing “The Sign” by Ace of Base. “Oh hell yeah,” he started dancing.

I was feeling loose and had to show him up with my dance skills as we laughed. When the song ended, he tore off his shirt, showing off a decent set of pecs and a flat stomach with a dusting of hair that formed a ‘T’ across his chest and down the center into the waistband of his underwear. He wiped his face with the shirt and tossed it like a basketball towards his hamper near the bed but fell short by about four feet. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re a regular Micheal Jordan, huh?” I kept bobbing my head to "Whatta Man" by Salt-N-Pepa.

“You couldn’t make that shot if your ass depended on it,” he lifted his shot glass.

I lifted mine and clinked glasses, laughing at him, “Oh please, look at the size of that hamper; I could make it no problem,” then downed my shot. “Ugh, this stuff is nasty,” I grimaced. I’ll admit, it’s gross to my tongue, but the effects are really hitting me in all the best ways.

“Wanna bet?” He poured us each another shot.

“I’ll take your money,” I smiled at him.

He laughed, “No money here,” and overfilled my shot glass.

“Then what?” I bent over to suck the tequila hovering above the rim so I didn’t spill it when I picked it up.

“When you don’t make it, you give me a blow job,” he grabbed his crotch through his jeans.

I laughed, “Get the fu–”

“Scared?” He cut me off, an eyebrow-raising.

I have a history of alcohol making me overly competitive; the word ‘scared’ always hit me in the gut like a fist because I was always the little kid growing up. Even now, I’m barely 5’8”, and with someone like Martin standing easily 6’, I get aggressively annoyed. But he must be joking, right? “Oh please, I’m not scared; I’ve seen your dick,” I held up my pinky, knowing he had a bigger dick than I had; it didn’t land as well as it would’ve with my other friends.

“Sounds like you’re scared to me,” his eyebrows shot up.

The radiator in the corner was clanking loud enough to overtake the music; I felt hot from the heater and the challenge. “I just don’t see what’s in it for me. What do I get if I make it?”

“Blow job,” he shrugged like it was the most obvious answer.

I laughed, “You really want to see my dick don’t you?”

He shrugged again, “I’m intrigued by the foreskin and the fiery red hair.” He held up his shot.

He was serious, and I didn’t know how to process this information. I did a lot of fooling around with my friends when we were going through puberty, but it died out when we hit about fifteen. More so for me because I was the first of us to get a girlfriend. I did get my first blow job from my friend Daniel during those days, and I’ll admit…it was the best I’ve ever had. I felt my dick start to swell in my underwear. I can’t even remember the last time I had sex. It’s not like I even knew Martin before tonight, so if he sucks me off…it’s not like anyone would know. I quickly picked up my shot, “You’re on,” and downed it. “Ugh, Jesus.”

I undid my belt and unzipped my pants, pushing them down to my ankles, my white briefs on display.

“What are you doing?” Martin asked.

I laughed, pulling my dick and balls out over the top of the waistband, “getting ready to collect.”

He laughed, staring at my hardening dick, “Oh God, you’re such a cocky bastard.”

I chuckled, pulling off my shirt and balling it up. “Get those lips wet,” and then focused all my energy on making the shot and tossed the shirt. It flared midway between me and the basket but still landed on the rim. “Oh, that counts!” I grabbed my dick at the base with my right hand, pointing at the hamper with my left.

Martin laughed, “No way, it’s like…half a point.”

“So you can give me half a blow job then,” I shook my 6.5-inch, thick, pasty-white dick at him, pulling the foreskin back to let him see my angry head.

He threw up his hands, “Alright, alright, a bet is a bet,” he conceded a little too quickly, then promptly poured two more shots to empty the bottle. Glancing down at my hard dick nonchalantly, multiple times, then picking up his mostly full shot glass and grinning at me.

“Jesus, ok,” I picked up my shot, “here’s to you swallowing my jizz,” I clinked his glass and slammed mine back. “Ugh,” I shook my head, “it doesn’t get better.”

He downed his shot, “it goes down smoother than jizz,” he joked and walked over to the bed. His body language changed slightly as he pulled his jeans off and put them in the laundry bin. He's a little less playful and a bit more serious. Standing in his underwear, he motioned for me to come over.

My dick was still out; I hadn’t realized I was slowly stroking myself. Hard as a rock, I stepped out of my jeans around my ankles and closed the gap between us as if floating through the air to sit on the end of the bed. I looked at my dick then up at him. He grinned at me, shook his head, and took a deep breath. Then he got down on his knees, reached up, and yanked my briefs down my legs, leaving me naked on the bed. He spit on his hand and started stroking my dick.

I leaned back on my elbows. “Mmm,” I let my head fall back and closed my eyes as he stroked me so I could picture one of the women from the bar earlier. His handjob was already better than any a woman had given me in years, and his comfort level with my dick was a huge turn-on.

He only stroked me for a minute before adjusting himself between my knees, and I felt him lick my dick. That warm tongue felt amazing on my sensitive skin. When he pulled back my foreskin and licked my glans, I fell flat on the bed with a moan. Most women were afraid of my uncut cock, but Martin expertly licked and sucked the tip, cleaning off all of my leaking precum, and seemed to be enjoying sucking me, not trying to rush it as much as he was savoring having my dick in his mouth. He didn’t even try to put inches in his mouth until he had licked it all over and sucked my balls a little.

I was really impressed when he got me down to the root in his mouth; most girls couldn’t do that; they usually panicked and pulled off if I went into their throats, but Martin was taking it like a champ. I gave up trying to picture a woman and found myself trying to watch my dick disappear through his lips. He was really putting in the effort, only pulling off to breathe and then diving back down to get me back in his throat. I started massaging his head, giving back a little of the pleasure he was effortlessly giving me. “That feels so good,” I whispered.

He got me close to the edge and pulled off when he felt my balls start to tighten. I was annoyed and insanely turned on. I wanted to cum quick and go to sleep, but also, fuck, he was good at this, and the horny bastard in me wanted to make it last. Who knows when the next time I’ll get such a good blow job will be?

When I got close to the edge again, he pulled off, stroked me with his right hand, and spit in his left hand. I sat up on my elbows to see he had pulled down the waistband of his briefs and was stroking his 7.5” cut dick as he stroked mine. The image of him on his knees pleasuring himself with his face wet from sucking my dick, it was hot…even though he’s a guy. I reached back up and pulled his head back to my dick, and he parted his lips to take me back into his throat. “Mmm, yeah, that’s it,” I moaned and lay back down on his mattress.

While slowly deep-throating my cock, he stopped stroking his dick; his hand came up to play with my balls, getting another moan from me, and I spread my legs for him to really enjoy my nuts. Women were always afraid of playing with my balls outside of a gentle caress, but Martin was having fun with them, squeezing and tugging on them, dropping his mouth down to suck one and then the other until it became too much, and I’d groan, and he’d release me.

I was swimming in pleasure, selfishly holding back my orgasm to make him suck me longer since he didn’t seem to be a quitter. As I turned my head from side to side, I felt the room spinning as I relaxed and let it all wash over me.

It was when his thumb dropped down below my balls and landed square on my asshole that I got my first new jolt of pleasure that pushed into my body and nearly made me cum. “Oh shit, ungh, that’s good,” I moaned, spreading my legs a little wider.

I’ve played with my ass before while jerking off, but it never felt this good. I was quickly getting close to shooting, and he could tell. Pulling off my dick, he spit on his left hand again, smearing it onto my asshole and slicking it up; shocking me a bit, he pushed the tip of his finger into my hole.

“Oh, shit, ahh, that’s weird,” I groaned and fist the sheets of his bed.

“Does it hurt?” He asked.

I thought about it, “No, it’s just…weird,” I groaned as he continued stroking me with his right hand, and his finger slipped deeper into my hole. “Ungh…what are you doing?” I sat up on my elbows to look at his face as he stroked me with one hand, and the other was below my balls, pushing a digit into my tight hole. This would've turned me off instantly if I wasn’t already so turned on.

“Have you ever had your ass fingered?” He asked in a calm voice, then pushed up with his finger, hitting something inside my hole.

“Unmm…fuck, no,” I let my head fall back; whatever he’s doing feels so good. Like he’s jerking me off from inside my asshole.

He chuckled, “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Mmm, yeah,” I couldn’t disagree. “Fuck, so good,” I groaned.

Then he pulled his finger out; the sudden feeling of being empty was a bigger surprise than the finger being pushed into me. He added more saliva to his hand and then pushed two fingers into my pucker. “Ahhh, fuck,” I hissed. Two fingers did not feel as good as one did. “Shit, man, what are you doing?” I reached down to stroke myself and try to bring the pleasure back.

He chuckled, “Just relax. I’m getting you loosened up, give it a second, and it’ll feel good,” he said, then put my dick back into his mouth. His two fingers now pushing on that button inside me, sending jolts of pleasure up into my dick which was quickly deep in his throat.

“Mmm, ok,” I mumbled, falling back onto the mattress, covering my face with my hands as I took in all the sensations. His mouth hoovering my dick was fantastic, but his two fingers inside my ass were a bit much when he wiggled them in an attempt to, I don’t know, pull my hole apart? I took a deep breath; the longer he was in me, the better it felt. When his fingers pushed hard on that spot inside me, the pleasure shot up into my guts, “Mmmm, ok,” I moaned again, seeing what he was saying about it turning to pleasure.

He continued sucking me deep into his throat, fingering my hole, and I just squirmed under him, my orgasm having been pushed back with the appearance of a second finger. Still, as I rocked my hips to meet his mouth and his fingers wiggled inside my hole, I was quickly getting back to the build-up of what promised to be one of the best orgasms of my life.

Breathing heavily, I brought my hands back to his floppy hair, “Mmmm, that feels so good; I’m getting close,” I warned.

He instantly pulled off my dick, gently stroking me. He pulled his fingers from my hole as well. I was a bit disappointed, but I can’t blame him; I wouldn’t let a guy cum in my mouth, either. The fingers moved to his own dick, and he started stroking himself while still stroking me. I quickly went from being on the edge to being back down to zero station, just maintaining an erection.

I sat up on my elbows, watching him stroke his meat as he stared at my dick and stroked me. Then his eyes met mine.

“What?” He smiled.

I huffed, “I was close, but a handjob is not a blowjob,” I half-joked.

He rolled his head on his neck, stretching those muscles. Then he stood, his white briefs holding his balls and cock up; it pointed right at me. “I have an idea,” he said. Then he reached under my legs, grabbed high on my thighs, and shoved me up the mattress, his pillow stopping my head from smacking the headboard. He pushed his underwear down, now completely nude. He stroked himself a few strokes and got back on the bed between my legs. Then started stroking our dicks together.

“Mmm,” I let out a soft moan, the resumed attention feeling good. It was weird to have his slightly bigger dick stroked along with mine, and there was a heat that radiated off him that made my cock feel like I was back in his mouth, but not the same.

As if reading my mind, he reached for the drawer on his nightstand, pulled out a bottle of lube, and poured a generous amount on our dicks, stroking us in the slick goo as it made its way down our shafts and dripped onto my balls. With his right hand, he stroked both our dicks, but his left dropped back down below my ass cheeks and started rubbing the excess lube on my pucker, eliciting another gentle moan from me as I spread my legs wider over his thighs so he could finger me again.

Thanks to the lube, the two lubed fingers slipped back in, this time with much more ease. No sting, just adding pleasure to his double cock stroking. He continued fisting our dicks, varying the speed and intensity, shifting his weight so his fingers could easily slide in and out of my ass at the same pace as his hand flying up and down our dicks.

“Fuck…that feels so good,” I mumbled, stretching my legs out wide to get more pleasure from his fingers, tossing my head from side to side, feeling myself getting back to that red zone of pleasure that I knew he was going to make me pop off soon.

I started gyrating my hips on his fingers and gently thrusting up into his other hand. It was such an intense feeling I was on the brink of shooting when he pulled his fingers from my ass again. Grabbing his lube, he added more to our dicks and his fingers and then started stroking us again; this time, he added his index, middle, and ring finger to my hole.

“OH, shit, ahhhhhh,” I groaned and clenched my teeth as he pushed them as deep as he could get them. The sting of being stretched that much was intense, but there was an undeniable pleasure in having those fingers inside me, and combined with his stroking, the sting quickly dulled and washed away to make my balls heat from simmer to boil.

“You like that?” He asked in a deep voice.

“Yeah, shit, ahh, so…good,” I groaned.

He only gave me another minute of that pleasure before he pulled his fingers out of my ass and separated our dicks, stroking himself with his left hand and me with his right.

I let out an unintentional sigh of disappointment, which made him chuckle.

“You like the ass play?” He asked with a breathy voice as he stroked us.

“Mmm, yeah,” I admitted, wanting to deny it, but the truth escaped my lips like the precum pooling at my tip, both a guttural reaction to the pleasure he was giving me.

He pushed his dick down below my balls, and the slick head slid between my cheeks and found my hole really quickly, circling the ring like chapstick. It felt even better than his fingers, but it was also…his dick. “Want me to put the head in?”

In the heat of the moment and not thinking clearly, I couldn’t process what he asked me. “What? Umm...no,” I dropped my legs over his wide-spread thighs. I chuckled. “I’m not gay,” I felt the need to tell him.

He chortled, “It’s not gay, come on, let me just put the tip in,” he wiggled his dick on my hole and added a little pressure. 

“Mmm,” the pressure did feel good. I felt my hole trying to let him in to replace the pleasure of his fingers a minute ago. Then he rocked his hips a little before I could answer, and the head pushed into my ring with an instant sting. My eyes shot open to meet his as I groaned. “Argh, fuck,” I hissed and pushed on his stomach, feeling the muscles under his skin tensing as he continued to add pressure, trying to get the head deep enough not to be pushed out.

“It’s just the tip. Just breathe, and it’ll feel better than the fingers in a second,” he promised.

I let my shoulders fall back onto the mattress, and my head slammed down in a huff. He started stroking my dick again, bringing me back to full strength with just a few strokes. I took a few deep breaths and tried to focus on my orgasm. This had gone too far, and now I just needed to cum to make it end.

“Feels good, right?” he stroked me, and I felt his dick twitch inside me.

I groaned, covering my eyes with my forearm, “It’s ok.” I felt the spinning room again, trying to ignore the dick penetrating me.

He continued stroking me with his right hand, his left hand massaging my thigh, his dick…I swear it went a little deeper, a fraction of an inch, with every couple of strokes on my dick. I put my right hand on his hip, “Just the tip, right?”

“Yeah, unless…” he rocked his hips, and I felt his head push into that spot inside me, and it both hurt and felt incredible in equal parts.

“Ungh,” both of my hands flew to his thighs under my spread legs. “Don’t do that,” I said.

He smiled at me, “why not?”

I huffed, “That’s too much; that’s more than the tip,” I groaned, struggling to accommodate the thicker part of his dick, now spreading my hole open.

He chuckled, “Yeah, it feels good, too,” his dick pulsed inside me.

This was too gay; I started to get worried, “should we at least get a condom?”

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He fired back.

“No, but,” I searched for how to say this was basically sex…right?

“I can put on a condom if you want me to fuck you,” he gently rocked his hips as he said it, and his cock head pushed another inch into me.

“Ungh,” I sighed at the pressure and pleasure of him being a few inches inside me. “Fuck, we should; I mean, mmm…this...safety,” I mumbled incoherently. Having never really thought about the safety rules of guy-on-guy sex, I know there’s a reason gay guys wear condoms.

He rocked his hips into me again, and again his dick slipped a little deeper into me. “Mmm,” he groaned, “that feels so good.”

I could feel his dick throb inside me again. The idea of another guy having his dick inside me was gross, but I have to admit it felt pretty damn good, even though I was straining to accommodate his girth. “Fuck…Martin,” I tried to breathe, “you’re way more than the tip, man.”

He smiled at me, “Connor, you feel so good; let me just put my cock inside you, only a couple more inches,” he grunted, rocking his hips again, “I just gotta see what it feels like to be all the way inside, then I’ll hold it there to get you off.” He rocked again with a little more force, sinking another inch into me, stretching my insides around his thick shaft.

“Ungh, fuck, it’s too big,” I groaned, shaking my head; my legs spread eagle as he slowly impaled me; I just hoped he didn’t break my ass or something.

“It feels so good, though,” he stroked my now flaccid dick as he shifted his weight to get more leverage. Rocking his hips again, he moaned in pleasure, “That feels so good…just a couple more inches,” then, with a hard shove, I felt him push the last of it in. His pubes tickling my balls, his balls firmly pressed into my ass.

“Ahhh, gah, shit, that’s enough, you gotta pull out, man,” I struggled with that last two inches. It stung like a motherfucker.

“I’ll hold it here…just for a minute, ok? I’m all the way in; don’t make me pull out yet. I just want you to see what it feels like when you relax into it.” He held deep inside me. “Just relax, I promise you it will feel so good in a minute.”

I gave a strained and reluctant, “Yeah, ok, just for a minute.”

He quickly started stroking my dick again, which was nearly lifeless after the shock to my system of getting…was I being fucked? I took a deep breath and tried to relax. With all the booze in my system, it wasn’t hard for me to calm down enough to enjoy him stroking my dick again and the lulling of the spinning room. My cock betrayed me by springing back like a pogo stick. I purred out a soft moan as his dick flexed inside me. With that, he withdrew a few centimeters and rocked it back in. I groaned, and my eyes shot open to meet his.

“Don’t worry, I’m not fucking you. I’m just stretching you out a little more so it’s more comfortable for you,” he let out a soft grunt as he bottomed out. “It feels so good, though, but I’m not going to fuck you if you don’t want,” he shook his head and closed his eyes, clearly enjoying this more than I was.

I wanted to protest, but if he wasn’t fucking me, what could I protest? I already agreed to let him stick it in me. I just need to cum. He was supposed to suck me off, but I dragged it out too far. I shook his hand off my dick and took over, stroking my cock. If I cum quick, he’ll have to pull out.

“Mmm, Jesus, I can feel your ass gripping my dick,” he mumbled, “you feel how your ass is holding me in instead of pushing me out?” His hands on my calves now, spreading my legs wider as he continued his gentle rocking and trying to get me to cum.

I moaned. He was right. The more I stroked my dick, the better it felt having him inside me, and I found that gyrating my hips in small concentric circles as he rocked his dick in me, it sent a constant stream of pleasure deep into my balls. It was like his dick was daring my balls to explode.

He shifted his weight again, pushing my legs further up toward my chest, my ass a little higher off the mattress, and he was on his knees, building a rhythm of rocking his hips into me, but it was a bit more than a gentle rock now; it was a couple of inches in and out with each stroke. I pounded on my dick and tried to clamp my ass down on his cock to hint that he was taking it too far. He was definitely fucking me now, right? I moaned, “I think you need to put on a condom.”

He put my legs on his shoulders and put the weight of his torso on them. I’m not that flexible, but he managed to bend me nearly in half as he continued to thrust several inches in and out of my ass. “Mmm, yeah, I can do that, then I can fuck you. You want me to fuck you?”

The question hung in the air for a few more thrusts, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him I wanted him to fuck me, but his rhythmic thrusting into my hole was confusing my brain. “Umm…no?”

He thrust a few more times and chuckled, “I’m just going to keep stretching you out then. Get your prostate fully stimulated until you get off, just like I promised.”

I was so confused, and I don't think he realized I was folded in half, so I could barely reach my dick, let alone jerk myself off. His thrusting was getting faster and deeper, and the more I pushed back with my legs, the more he seemed to add weight and get deeper into me. 

“Oh man, you feel so good,” He moaned, slowing his thrusting but digging deeper with the next few strokes. “Oh yeah, I can feel you stretching out, Connor; it feels good, right?”

I was gritting my teeth, confused by the question. “Uhuh,” was all I could muster.

“Yeah, you’re close, just a little more,” he bent me further in half. I could feel his breath on my ear as his head dipped down beside mine. His labored breathing as he slid easily in and out of my hole, “Mmm, yeah, that’s it, that’s it,” he mumbled and gave a few quick thrusts, then a short deep thrust, then three more quick thrusts and a short deep one and held himself deep in me. I felt him twitching and grunting quietly in my ear. “Mmm…you’re ready,” he huffed and slowly sat upright and looked down at his dick in my hole, then smiled as he slowly started stroking his entire length in and out of my hole again. “Stroke yourself now; you’re ready. You feel it; you feel how open you are now?”

His slow strokes felt like butter sliding in and out of my hole; I was quickly bringing myself closer to orgasm.

“That’s it, Connor,” he slid his dick in and out of my hole, no longer seeming to take pleasure from it but focused on my orgasm. “Cum for me,” he insisted, his dick seeming to deflate a little as his fingers added pressure under my balls.

I stroked faster. His dick, less rigid, bottomed out in me with no resistance, only pleasure. That silky feeling sliding over my prostate pushed me over the edge. My balls tightened, and cum exploded out of my dick and landed somewhere over my shoulder. Martin continued rocking his dick in me, and it massaged my overstimulated button inside, and it sent my orgasm into a tremoring, full-body shaking spasm. My ass clenched down on his cock, and he groaned as I continued to shoot cum all over my stomach. I shook and spasmed through the most intense and ball-draining orgasm I’ve ever had. My torso finally relaxed, and the aftershocks were so fierce it felt like its own low-grade orgasm. “Holy,” I took a deep breath and felt my body shimmer again, “fuck.”

Martin chuckled, his cock slipped out of my hole, and he let my legs relax down at his sides. “That was impressive,” he said, rubbing my naked thighs. “I’m going to get you something to clean up with.” He slowly got out from between my legs as I regained some version of consciousness, still breathing heavily. I watched him walk over to his hamper and grab the shirt he was wearing earlier and use it to wipe the wetness off his soft dick. He brought it over to me and wiped as much cum off my chest and abs as he could. “How do you feel?”

I chuckled, “Relaxed.” I closed my eyes and felt the room spinning, and almost instantly, I fell asleep.

I woke up still feeling drunk, the room still spinning; I couldn’t tell what time it was. It was still dark, and I was still naked. Martin was snoring in the bed next to me. I reached down to feel my dick, which was still slick from the lube. The memory of what happened started coming back to me. I reached down to my ass hole, and it was very wet; slipping a finger into my hole, it was still slick from…lube? I smelled it; it definitely smelled like cum. It smelled like when I would forget to tie a knot in the condom and found it leaking in the morning, a stale cum smell. Holy shit, did Martin… I shook my head, not trying to finish that thought.

I got out of bed and pulled on a pair of underwear I hoped were mine but felt a little too loose in the pouch and ass to be mine, then pulled on jeans that definitely were too small for Martin. I quietly dug in the hamper to find my shirt, accidentally picking up the shirt covered in cold cum and tossing it back in. As soon as I saw my shirt, I finished dressing and decided to sneak out. I know I should stay the night and figure out how to get home in the morning, but after what happened tonight, I do not want to wake up next to the guy who fucked me and probably…nope, not finishing that thought, just going home to shower.

When I woke up in the morning back at my place, I promptly darted for the bathroom to vomit and vomit some more. Fucking tequila. After a long hot shower, an entire pot of coffee, and some plain toast, I was able to start processing last night. I decided it was the tequila and Jameson combination, that it was fun and felt really good, but it didn’t have to mean anything. Then I crawled back into bed for a quick 2:30 pm nap.