Date: Wed, 23 Jul 2014 17:41:02 -0400
From: Aaron Grant <thegrantfinale123@gmail.com>
Subject: Drunk Enough (Part 1)

Drunk Enough
by Aaron Grant
thegrantfinale123@gmail.com


"Hey Nick," came the slurred words of Scott's voice from the other line.
"I'm a little bit drunk, do you think you could pick me up?" I could tell
he was more than "a little bit drunk," because it took me about a minute
and a half to decipher what he had actually said.


"Uhh, sure buddy. Where are you at?"


"I'mma Vizesap merent."


"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."


"Vinzes apparment"


"Vince's apartment?"


"Uh huh."


Vince's apartment was only a couple blocks away from his own, but I suppose
it's better to ask for a ride than to stumble home piss drunk. "I'll be
there in just a few minutes."


"Kay kay."


The line went dead, and I grabbed my keys and headed out the door. I'll
admit, I was a little surprised Scott called me to come pick him up. Sure,
we had some classes together and we talked occasionally but I wouldn't have
expected him to come to me when he was drunk off his ass to drive him home.
I'd figured he had plenty of other friends he could have called. Then
again, those friends were probably at Vince's apartment just as drunk as he
was, and the ones that weren't were too far away to come and pick him
up. Scott knows that I don't drink, and my dorm was only a couple minutes
away from Vince's just from walking. Of course, by car, it'd take a little
longer, because I need to grab my keys, walk to the structure and drive
over there, plus there really wasn't much in the way of parking, being in
the middle of Midtown, so I suppose I'd have to hover on the side of the
road for a couple minutes and wait for him.


As it turns out, I didn't have to. When I rolled up to the apartment, Scott
was waiting on the sidewalk for me, wearing his black dress slacks and
tuxedo.  I hadn't expected him to still be wearing his band uniform from
the concert; I assumed he would have changed prior to going to Vince's
"afterparty." I pulled up to the curb and rolled down my window, catching
his attention, and he climbed inside. I made a left and headed for Scott's
apartment.


"Hey, did you want me to come in and help you up the stairs?" I asked as I
pulled up to the building. Scott lived on the very top floor of his
apartment, and though I've never been drunk before, I've been around enough
drunks to know that climbing stairs when you're drunk is potentially the
most frustrating and dangerous thing ever.


"Sure," Scott mumbled, as he motioned to an open parking spot in the lot
next to his place. I parked and helped Scott out of the car. He leaned on
my shoulder (which was quite awkward for both of us, because he's a good
five inches taller than me) as we walked down the street towards his
building. He fumbled to find a key to open the front door, but finally he
managed it. I wrapped my arm around his waist and climbed the stairs with
him. It took us quite a while. I didn't mind.  Through the putrid aroma of
beer and tobacco I could still catch a whiff of Scott.  He smelled nice. My
stomach had butterflies from being so close to him, but I pulled him
closer.


There were six floors in Scott's building, so including the couple steps to
the office on the first floor, there were twelve flights of stairs. In five
minutes, we had barely made it past the third flight of stairs. Around the
fourth or fifth flight, Scott started grabbing his dick through his
pants. He wasn't be subtle at all. As we climbed the stairs, Scott started
groaning. "You okay, dude?" I finally asked.


"I gotta piss," he slurred. "Like mad."


"Ohh, well, hold it just a little bit longer, buddy. We only have a few
more flights of stairs until we reach your apartment." There were about
four more flights of stairs, two more floors, until we finally got to his
room. Then he still had to dig out he's keys and find a way to get his
drunken, shaky hands to put the key in the lock.


"I don't think I can hold it that long," he whined. We were going at an
incredibly slow pace due to his drunkenness. At this rate, it would take us
probably another five or ten minutes to reach the top. After he told me
about his desperation, he seemed to be going even slower, stumbling more,
unable to concentrate on walking because taking his mind off his aching
bladder would cause a spill.


After another flight of stairs, Scott started doing small little hops which
made it nearly impossible to climb. The poor guy was absolutely desperate;
drunk off his ass and unable to control nearly any part of his body. He
must have been putting every single ounce of effort into not wetting
himself.


Finally, we reached the top; just one more flight of stairs and we'd be at
his apartment.  As soon as we stepped off the last step, Scott fell to his
knees, squeezing his hands between his legs. "I can't do it, Nick. I can't
take another step. If I do, it'll all come out!"


I knelt down next to him; his face was torn in anguish as tears streamed
down his face.  His hands were pushing down on his dick with all the
strength left in his intoxicated body, which couldn't really have been
helping. "C'mon, Scott. We just have one more flight of stairs. You can
make it!"


Scott only slammed his eyes shut and shook his head furiously. "I can't do
it," he cried.  "I can't..." Suddenly, all of the strain fell off his face,
and he relaxed. He removed his hands from his crotch to reveal a small wet
spot, which grew larger and larger until it flooded his pants, making a
puddle on the stairwell carpet. Still half tucked in, his white tuxedo
shirt grew yellow stains near his waistband; his stream soaked through his
pants and completely drenched the bottom of his tuxedo jacket. Scott peed
for about three minutes before he seemed satisfied. He stood up, relieved
of the tension in his bladder and now able to try to stumble up the stairs,
revealing his soaked uniform. Final spurts trickled out of the bottom of
his dress slacks, dousing his black socks with sticky, wet warmth.


"Oh buddy," I groaned. "You couldn't have held it for another minute?" He
shook his head.  With a sigh, I let him lean on me. He no longer smelled
like Scott; just piss and beer. I still didn't mind the scent.


Finally we reached his apartment, and Scott tore into his pocket to find
his damp keys, which he found and shakily put into the lock, opening the
door.


"All right," I said, once we were both inside and the door was
locked. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes." At this point, I had just
kind of assumed he was too drunk to do anything for himself.


I knelt down and unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his soaked
pants, and pulled them down to his knees. Immediately his soggy dick was in
my face. I closed my eyes and took a subtle whiff, inhaling the smell of
piss and longing. Scott lifted his leg and I pulled his pants and boxers
off, then stood up and started unbuttoning his now yellow tuxedo shirt.
That stain was gonna be embarrassing at the next concert. I took off his
jacket and shirt, letting them slip off his arms -- only his stained
undershirt remained. Scott raised his arms as I pulled the shirt over his
head, and now he stood butt naked in front of me.  "Where's your roommate?"
I asked trying to keep a somewhat normal conversation to avoid any
awkwardness, though it was difficult to carry a normal conversation with
someone so drunk he just pissed his pants.


"Home for the summer," he mumbled. I had almost forgot that the school year
was basically over. All that was left were a couple days of finals.


"Ahh," I replied. "I'll get a shower started for you. Where's your
bathroom?"


I followed Scott into the bathroom, where he stood patiently for me to draw
the water.  I was having a hard time hiding my raging erection, though I
doubt Scott was sober enough to notice. Then again, aside from breaking
down in his stairwell and wetting himself, Scott was a pretty capable
drunk. Sure he swayed and stumbled a lot, but he knew to call somebody to
drive him home, and knew it was a good idea for someone to help him up the
stairs. So maybe he could tell how turned on I was.


Scott hadn't the faintest hint of modesty, and made no effort to hide his
junk from me.  It just sat there, dangling from his abdomen, watching
me. My own member started throbbing for attention. Maybe once Scott was in
the shower I could take care of it.


Once the water was at a decent temperature, Scott climbed in the bathtub
and I got a perfect view of his ass; I had to stop myself from reaching out
and touching it. After climbing in the tub, Scott turned around and looked
at me, eyes slightly glazed over and half closed.  "You should join me."


Immediately my face turned bright red. "I...I couldn't do that..."


"Why not?" Scott asked.


"I just...I'd feel like I was taking advantage of you."


Scott cocked an eyebrow. "How so?"


I winced and pointed at my hardon.


"Oh I don't care, bro. I know you kinda like me."


"I don't like you...I just...think you're kinda hot."


"Oh?"


"And you wetting yourself out there kinda turned me on." I mumbled.


Scott grabbed my hands and pulled me towards the tub, splashing my shirt
with water.  "Hey!" I yelped.


"C'mon!!" Scott chimed. "Join me!"


"You're getting me all wet!"


"That's what I like to hear." He winked at me. I flushed.


Scott tried to pull me into the tub again and I yelped. "Okay, okay, okay!"
I shouted. "At least let me take my clothes off, first!" Scott giggled as I
tore off my shirt and slipped off my jeans and boxers, leaving a pile of
clothes on the bathroom floor. I climbed into the tub, my erection staring
Scott in the face.


"So my little accident turned you on, eh?" I could tell he was sobering
up. His words were starting to sound less slurred together, more
articulate. I wasn't sure if being naked in a tub with a sobering hot guy
was a good thing or not. Blushing, I nodded. "You know what?"


"What?"


"It turned me on, too." As if on cue, his dick started to harden,
lengthening to a hearty 8 inches. It was relatively thick, thicker than
mine, at least. I think my mouth actually began to water. When at last it
was at full length, Scott pulled me into a kiss, and reached around playing
with my ass. I wrapped my arms around him, making my way down slowly to
touch his butt. I felt his dick pressed up against mine as I slowly grazed
my hands over his smooth, squishy bottom. I squeezed it tight with my
hands. Lord, he'd be a perfect fuck. I started leaking precum just thinking
about it.


Eventually, Scott broke the kiss and pushed me down to my knees, and my
face was right at dick-level. His huge meatstick plopped in my face, and I
carefully took it into my mouth. "Oh yeah," Scott moaned. Water was now
raining down on me from the showerhead, and Scott's dick, already moist
from the water, slid easily in and out of my mouth. Scott started
face-fucking me, and my hand reached down for my dick. Scott's face
contorted in ecstasy, and he grabbed my head and thrusted harder and
faster. My strokes matched his thrusts, each one shooting his cock deeper
and deeper down my throat, nearly choking me. I gagged once, but that
barely stopped Scott; he kept on thrusting, bringing himself closer to
climax with each one.


"Oh, oh god, nng," Scott groaned. "I think I'm getting close."


I moaned into his shaft, which made him shiver with pleasure. "Fuck, Nick,
I can't--" and before he could finish his sentence, he shot eight strings
of hot, juicy, cum down my throat. I couldn't take it anymore, I increased
my strokes to lightning speed and finished all over Scott's shin.


By now, both of us were breathing very heavily, the shower water washing
away any remnants of our fun time. Scott shrunk down to his flaccid, yet
still quite large, size, but he wasn't done yet. Before I could get up, a
yellow stream splashed in my face. I grunted and closed my eye. Scott stood
above me peeing, not touching his dick, letting it splash wherever nature
intended. Nature intended, apparently, for it to hit my face, and I spit
out the dribbles of piss that had fallen into my mouth. As his dick shrunk
even more, the stream arched onto my chest and ran down my stomach. He peed
for at least a minute before finally his stream wavered and he was
finished. I spit the last remnants of his stream and shower water out of my
mouth.  "You done?"


"Yeah, sorry," he blushed. "Had to pee again."


"I didn't mind," I winked. I stood up, wrapped my arms around him, and
kissed him again. He shoved his tongue in my mouth and I interwove it with
me. His hands immed- iately clasped onto my butt again. "You ready to go
again or somethin'?"


Scott chuckled. "No, you just have a really nice ass."


"So do you," I laughed, smacking his own. We laughed for a minute, and then
I rested my head on his chest. He held me tighter.


"Well," I said. "I guess now that you've sobered up, you won't need me to
stay the night any more."


"What?" he said, looking me in the eye. "You're not gonna cuddle?"

--------------------------------

As of right now (7/23/2014), I am planning on continuing this saga, because
I see a lot of potential for more saucy situations and character growth,
though as a college-bound writer, I may or may not have time to do so.
However, if the demand is there, I will try to supply. I always enjoy
taking comments and constructive criticism to my stories, so if you have
anything to say about this story or any other that I have written, please
feel free to shoot me an e-mail at thegrantfinale123@gmail.com or tweet me
@thegrantfinale. I always love getting e-mails or tweets about my stories,
so please, even if you just want to say you loved it, shoot me a message!

FANS OF MERKLE'S BONER - Hi all, sorry I haven't updated that story in a
while.  At the present moment in time, I am not planning on continuing the
story. The problem with writing is that my writing style is constantly
evolving, so I look back at stories I've written merely months ago and
think, "Wow, I really do not like how I wrote this." As of now. I do have
some plans to completeyl re-write the story, possibly at a college setting,
or possibly just later in high school (ages 17-18 seniors rather than 14-15
freshmen). I really enjoyed the characters of Jordan and Zack, and really
want to see them in action again. So, if you're a fan of that story, fear
not! You will most likely see them again (hopefully this time with better
writing!)

Cheers!

~Aaron
thegrantfinale123@gmail.com
@thegrantfinale