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.