Ernie

I went over to Ernie's last Saturday night. His girlfriend had gone home for the weekend, and he invited me over to play video games. It was his idea that the loser had to do a shot, and his idea to drink tequila. I was hesitant, knowing he was much better at the games than I was, but my buddy was persuasive.

I guess I drank a little too much. On Sunday morning I woke up in bed next to him. I could not remember exactly what happened the night before, but looking around, I found some clues. His tighty-whities had a hole torn in the back, and the front was still wet with his cum. My shorts were around my ankles, and my hard cock was sticking through the fly in my boxers. I knew tequila was bad stuff, but had I actually been wasted enough to fuck my jock bro?

He was still out cold, so I pulled his underwear off him to remove the obvious evidence, then I took a shower. I could barely get a load out of my cock. That had never happened before. I must have completely drained my balls the night before. He was still asleep when I left.

I didn't hear from him all week.That wasn't unusual, especially since his girlfriend was back in town. I was worried that he figured out what happened, or even worse, remembered it, and I would never hear from him again. But Saturday afternoon, I got a text from him saying if I didn't have plans, I should come over.

When I walked in, he was watching something on the television,wearing only a tee shirt and a red ball cap. When I asked him what he was up to, he simply raised a bottle of tequila in his left hand. 

"I don't think I can take your cock again sober," He said without turning to face me. "So tonight, you stay sober and I'm getting trashed. And I took my shorts off for you. I'm not letting you rip up another pair this week."

I was shocked. "Bro, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Dude, I'm the hottest guy you know, and you never made a move on me," Ernie said. "Every time I talked about trying cock, you brushed me off. I was getting a complex. So last week I got you a little drunk and told you to do whatever you wanted. For the record, you're a happy drunk and a hell of a fuck. The more you drank, the rougher you were on my pussy."

"You have a girlfriend," I reminded him.

"What about her?" He asked. "I came more times in one night taking your cock than I have in six months with her. Last week I had fun with you. Tonight is your turn to do whatever you want with me. Don't hold back. I now know you like it rough. Go ahead and try to break me. I trust you enough to say you can do whatever you want, even if I'm unconscious. I dare you to try to make me regret saying that.

"Then next week," he continued, "If you're strong enough to make me your bitch when we're both sober, then you decide what happens afterwards. We can go back to being friends, we can be friends with benefits, you can make me your girlfriend, whatever you want."