Forced milking, kink

A drunken boy is milked on his birthday

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Sleep wank

Sam knew that Leo was an easy drunk. Three bottles of cheap beer and he was out for hours. Then the fun began. Sometimes he’d just strip him naked and take photos for his collection; sometimes he’d use his mouth as a pussy. Sometimes he’d even use his hole. Sam wondered if Leo ever wondered the following morning about the strange taste in his mouth, or his sore asshole…

Today, was about Leo though. It was his 20^th birthday, so Sam decided to give him a present. Even unconscious, his cock responded rapidly to being touched. Soft, the circumcised dormouse nestled, small and sleepy, flopping back against his belly, not even three inches long. But just the lightest stroke across its head was enough to rouse it, and it inflated along his belly to its full seven-inch length.

Sam sucked it for a minute. Leo kept himself clean, and Sam liked the feeling as the meat turned to steel in his mouth. He’d often wondered if Leo would agree to being blown when he was not drunk. There was no doubt that his cock enjoyed the experience.

Sam kept a loose hand on Leo’s nuts, feeling for the contractions that would signal an imminent orgasm. Sometimes he liked to drink his friend’s cum, other times he took it in his mouth then returned it to Leo in the form of a cum kiss, occasionally adding his own load to the gift, stroking Leo’s throat to ensure he swallowed it down.

Sam took the rigid tool in his fist, and started pumping. It amused him to think that even though Leo’s conscious mind was not actively enjoying the sensation, his body most certainly was. Leo lay, still as a corpse, while Sam pumped his cock. It was always more tiring pumping someone else’s cock – it was the lack of correlation between action and arousal Sam supposed.

He pumped faster, keeping it nice and light, and suddenly Leo was squirting; a generous load that spattered onto his own belly. He must not have nutted for a few days. Maybe he was saving his potency for a forthcoming athletic event. Oh well, that plan had gone out of the window.

Sam kept going, and Leo kept squirting. The belly splashes spread, then when his balls lacked the power to propel his cum that far, it dribbled in torrents down his shaft, over Sam’s fist and between his legs.

Sam continued until there was no more cream, then he squeezed the still brutally hard shaft a few times, enjoying the sheer masculinity of such a firm rod.

Eventually, he let it go, and it stood tall, a flagpole, proudly rising at right angles from his groin.  Sam looked at the cream on the back of his fingers. Should he lick it off, or rub it into Leo’s hair? Choices, choices. There was something deliciously subversive about using his victim’s own hair to dry off the cum he had not willingly given, and knowing it would remain there until Leo unknowingly showered it out.

But on the other hand, Leo’s spunk tasted delicious. Not the insipid, slightly porridgy taste of most guy’s spunk, but slightly sweet. Sam assumed it was because Leo took care of himself, and ate a lot of fruit.

In the end, his taste buds won out, and Sam licked the morsels from the back of his knuckles, savouring them like a child savours the last ice cream on a spoon. He smiled.

Now what to do about Leo? He could clean him up, but such a generous load deserved better.

He couldn’t resist adding to the spunk puddle on Leo’s stomach puddle. He pulled out his own hard cock and wanked himself to a powerful orgasm. He directed it onto Leo’s belly.

He took a handful of photos to commemorate the occasion, then he dressed Leo again without cleaning him up. Their spunk made his underwear and t-shirt wet and dark. They would be dry by morning, but he’d wear the evidence of his night’s activities. It made Sam smile. He liked to know secrets about the drunken frat boys that he hosted. A tiny cock, no pubes, balls that rose into their stomachs when they were aroused. These were all fun remembrances that he could bring to mind as he saw them around the campus.

Leo’s cock had wilted now. Now down to its dormouse state, and the helmet looked rosy and enlarged. Sam looked at the sopping wet fabric over Leo’s belly, and in the pouch of his soft underpants, and smiled as another pleasant evening drew to a close.