Date: Tue, 20 May 2014 13:33:57 +0100
From: Joshua Freeman <jjfreeman42@gmail.com>
Subject: One Drunken Night

He was drunk. That was how it began; I never had any intentions to do
anything... anything sexual.

He was drunk, and I was tipsy.

We managed to find our way back to my room, his arm slung across my
shoulder, me practically dragging him as he babbled on unintelligibly.
Somehow I prised the door open without letting him fall, and we squeezed
our way inside. He immediately vacated my clutches and fell onto the bed
without a second thought or a care in the world.

Now I was faced with a dilemma, there was only one bed, everyone else in
the flat was still out and would be for some time, so I couldn't borrow any
of their beds for the night, and I sure as hell wasn't sleeping on the
floor. The choice was made for me; it wasn't an effort to sleep in the same
bed.

I took off his shoes as he repeatedly kicked me in the face, and then his
socks. I managed to get him to sit up long enough for me to remove his
t-shirt. He unbuckled his belt all by himself, but I had to give him a hand
with the rest. Once he was appropriately dressed he rolled under the duvet
and made himself comfortable, mumbling incoherently to himself.

I was still apprehensive as to whether I should join him in the same bed,
but we had been friends for long enough for me to feel comfortable... so
why not? By the time I had wriggled my way into bed next to him he was
sound asleep, his mouth agape, and his brow furrowed. Again, I need to
reinforce this point, at this point, I was not considering doing what I
eventually did, but the lack of sleep began to alter my perception.

The longer I lay awake, the more frustrated I became, I hated not being
able to sleep, and this was no exception. Maybe it was the fact that I
ended up simply laying there, gazing at him, as there was nothing else to
look at, that made my mind wander in that direction. I knew I was attracted
to him, I always was, but it was never anything more than that. He was
straight, which meant nothing would ever happen, at least not when he was
of sound mind. But as I stared at him I ended up gazing at his cheekbones,
at his jawline, at the hairs protruding from his chin. Considering how
drunk he was he didn't really smell of booze, he always smelled the
same... fresh.

The first movement I made was pretty inconsequential, although it made my
heart thump at the time.  I extended my index finger and placed it on his
bottom lip. It looked so juicy and plump; I just wanted to touch it, to
feel it. I ran my finger along his lip, surprised at how smooth it
was. Then I removed my finger, and resolved to do no more, I would not
indulge my curiosity any further. But that was a lie. I began to stare at
his chest as it moved up and down with every breath he took, I observed the
minimal amount of hair scattered across his well-defined pectorals, I
appreciated the dark brown colour of his nipples...

I bit my lip.

I knew I should stop there, but my eyes were wide, and the tension that was
building in my underpants threatened to burst the elastic that constricted
it. My heart was racing, I could feel it thumping against my ribcage and I
could hear it throbbing inside my skull. My hand slid slowly across the
mattress, shaking slightly. The distance between him and me on the bed was
so close, but when my hand traversed that plane, it seemed to go on
forever. Eventually the tips of my fingers reached their destination: his
upper torso. They began to explore the unique texture of flesh, surprised
at the softness that greeted them. My eyes were locked on his face,
anticipating the moment his lids would fly open and I would have to whip my
hand away... but they never did. My fingers explored further, they admired
how solid his pectoral muscles were, and how smooth his chest was. Then I
reached the place I intended: those dark, inviting areolas. I allowed my
eyes to drift from his face and instead watched as my thumb began to tease
his nipple, and it stiffened at my touch.

I wanted more. I wanted to taste it... it looked so inviting.

And so that is what I did. I slowly edged forward, my eyes not leaving his
face for a second, and eventually my mouth descended onto his chest. It
tasted like skin; warm, supple skin. I allowed myself to indulge on this
delicacy for some time, my tongue particularly enjoying running along the
protrusions from his chest. When I returned to my side of the bed, he
remained in the same position he was in before, blissfully unaware of my
advances. His chest was, however, slightly moister that it previously had
been.

I had to address the build-up of tension I felt down below at this point,
as it was becoming difficult to bear. I readjusted myself, pressing my hand
against my erection as I did, the feeling was exquisite, and it only served
to justify my lustful advances even more. It was at this point my attention
turned to his open mouth.

Most men, when lying with their mouths open, would be considerably less
attractive than if it were shut.  Not him. He remained the same, maybe it
was because I was so turned on at this point I didn't care, but to me, he
was just as beautiful as he always was. My hand returned to his face,
brushing against the stubble on his chin, and my thumb entering his
mouth. Without warning, his lips closed. His teeth gently held my thumb in
place as he began to gently suck on it... what was I supposed to do now?
This position certainly looked compromising.

I don't know how long I lay there in that position, fearful of what might
happen, all I know is, eventually, I decided it was worth the gamble... My
free hand ventured south. My fingers ran down his torso, from his chest,
across his stomach, to his treasure trail. The moment came when I could
feel the elastic of his underwear mixed with the hair of his trail, this
was decision time. I concluded that I shouldn't venture in just yet; I
wanted to see what I was dealing with first. My hand ran along the soft
fabric of his briefs, and traced the line of his meaty package. It was hard
to tell just how big it was this way, my expectations may have tricked my
sense somewhat, but honestly, I didn't care.

I began to massage the bulge I had discovered, enjoying the warmth and
juiciness of it, and smiling as I realised it was beginning to grow in
appreciation of my efforts. I do not know at what point what I was doing
changed from what could be considered rubbing, to jerking him off through
his underpants, all I know is that eventually, I reached that point. His
breathing had grown quicker, his chest rising and falling far more rapidly
than before, and his whole body seemed to be somewhat illuminated with a
slight layer of moisture. It was at this point he decided to open his eyes.

I feigned ignorance. My hand returned to my side, and my eyes closed,
although the finger that was stuck in his mouth remained there. Maybe it
was denial, or his astounding level of inebriation, but somehow he didn't
seem to realise what had been happening; although he did acknowledge the
sudden growth in his underwear. He released my finger, seemingly not
noticing it was there in the first place, and then began to do something
which I am eternally grateful for.

He removed his underwear entirely. I did not see this, as my eyes were
tightly closed in fear, but I heard the sound of cotton sliding along
flesh. My eyes remained closed, but I could hear him. I heard the wetness
of his cock as he began to ravish it with his hand, furiously, sloppily
masturbating in his drunken state. I could feel the bed shake as he
inconsiderately attacked his meat. I imagined the wet jacking sounds I
could hear was my mouth around his cock as my tongue explored the head and
lapped up all the sweet, salty precum. I could hear him panting, and I
imagined myself silencing him with my tongue as it explored the corners of
his mouth.

I dared to open my eyes. The sight I beheld was glorious. I could see
everything; he had thrown the duvet away from him so his entire, sweaty,
glistening body was in view. He was pumping his cock sloppily and almost
violently, every muscle in his body was tensed, his pectorals looked better
than ever as both of his dark brown nipples stood to full attention. He
began to groan loudly. His biceps looked spectacular with each pump of his
cock; I dreamed they were wrapped around me as the meat that I could now
see with my own eyes was being thrust deep inside of me over, and over and
over...

His hand gripped my upper thigh tightly.

My eyes slammed shut once more, what was he doing? I heard shuffling. I
felt movement. He was getting up!  His hand dug into my leg more, but I was
determined not to open my eyes, no matter what. It took me a moment to
realise what was happening, but when I did, it filled me with excitement
and anticipation. He was straddling me! His firm asscheeks pressed against
my stomach, and he rubbed his cock faster than ever as he aimed it at my
face. My own member could hardly take any more; my pants were sodden with
precum as my dick had been dripping since he had started masturbating. The
moisture from his body began to drip onto my chest and stomach as he gave
one final loud moan, and stuttered for breath.

I felt his gift line my chest, neck and face. There was a particularly
large drop that landed directly on my upper lip. But no matter what I
remained still. Within seconds his hands were pressed against my chest, my
erect nipples caught between his fingers, and he prised himself off of me
and headed to the bathroom.

I took this chance to sample his load. I reached down and grabbed my
cock. I knew it wouldn't take long, it was practically bursting anyway, a
few strokes and I was done, I thought about his juicy lips, about his moist
pecs with the dark, tender nipples, I thought about his dripping wet cock,
and how good it looked, how much I wished I could have sampled it with my
own mouth... that was it... I added my load to his across my stomach.

After a few minutes he returned with a towel and proceeded to clean both
himself up, and me, feigning ignorance (and sleep) the entire time. Then he
turned over and almost immediately fell back to sleep.  He left me with a
very good view of his smooth, firm asscheeks, which I cannot thank him
enough for, and which I had to resist exploring with my tongue. Although
that temptation did not last for long as I suddenly found myself very
lethargic, and before long, was asleep myself.

The next morning he showed no signs of having any knowledge of what had
happened. He was cripplingly hungover, and did not want to leave bed, but
aside from that, everything was normal, and neither he, nor I, ever spoke
of it again.