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Megumi stirred from sleep, his consciousness gradually returning as he became aware of a rude, persistent pressure against him. A long, brutally hard length was wedged between his thighs, grinding against his cunt with a slow, insistent purpose. It was using him, digging into the sensitive flesh, sticking to his skin with a slickness that was already coating him. Each movement was a firm, pistoning shove that dragged through the groove of his thighs, producing a lewd, squelching sound that was shockingly loud in the dead air of the bedroom.
The fuck...? The thought was sludge in his sleep-addled brain. He tried to squirm away, a pathetic wriggle of his hips that accomplished nothing. A thick, muscular arm was banded around his waist, a chain of flesh and bone that locked him in place. Instead of freedom, his struggle only earned him a tightening of that arm, a sharp pull that crushed his back against a furnace-hot chest. He was trapped.
A low, gravelly sound rumbled against his shoulder blades, a pained groan that was almost a word. “Ngh... no...”
It clicked into place with a horrifying clarity. Yuuji. Yuuji was fucking his thighs. The words couldn't help but echo in his mind. He remembered going on a difficult mission with Yuuji and coming back to the hotel room booked for them… only to discover that there was only one bed. Since they'd been friends for a while, they figured it wouldn't be so weird if they slept in the same bed. They were bros after all (even if Megumi secretly harboured a big fat crush on his best friend).
Somehow, in the night, their pants had been undone, and now, lost in some wet dream, his best friend was using him like a personal sex toy. The skin between Megumi's legs was already raw and tender, puffy and soaked, and he wondered just how long this had been going on before he'd woken up.
The rhythm of Yuuji's hips was a form of torture designed to edge him into oblivion. Long, slow strokes that dragged the entire length of that thick cock against his quivering pussy lips, making them flutter and ache for more. Followed by short, sharp ruts that slapped Yuuji's heavy pelvis against his ass, making his thighs clap with wet, meaty sounds. Each thrust punched a tiny, helpless gasp from Megumi's lips. The gasps were so wanton and lewd it made him feel almost ashamed, almost. And his body, the traitorous, desperate thing it was, was already begging for more knowing full well the wrongness of this all.
The room reeked of a primal stench that filled Megumi's nostrils and made his head swim. The sound was obscene too. A sloppy, sucking squelch, like a boot being pulled from thick mud. Yuuji, in the throes of sleep, started to lose his rhythm. He wasn't really fucking Megumi's thighs anymore; it was more like he was rutting into the wet mess between them, using the copious slick pouring from Megumi's hole as lubricant. It was a disgusting, wet paradise, and Megumi was producing more of it by the second, his cunt gaping and pulsing, a hungry mouth begging to be fed.
The guilt was a sour taste in the back of his throat, but it was being drowned out by the acidic burn of pure, unadulterated lust. This was wrong. This was depraved. He was letting his unconscious friend use him like a cheap, disposable toy. The thought made his stomach clench, but his clench was mirrored by his cunt, which squeezed around nothing, desperate to be filled.
They would definitely have to talk about this when Yuuji woke up. Yes. They should definitely talk and…
Megumi squirmed, a pathetic attempt at escape that was really just a secret plea for more. His fingers scrabbled at Yuuji's forearm, trying to pry it loose. The response was instantaneous and terrifying. Yuuji's arm became a band of steel, yanking him back so hard the air was forced from his lungs. The hard planes of Yuuji's pecs ground into Megumi's shoulder blades, and that thick, angry cock was rammed so deep between his thighs that the head kissed his dripping entrance with every brutal shove.
“Mmmph... stay... fuck, stay put…” The words were a slurred, sleep-mumbled mess against Megumi's nape, but they were an order. He was probably dreaming of some big-titty and ass girl, surely, and here Megumi was, a willing substitute, a hole to be used. Because Megumi knew well enough he could drop his pretense of ethics and just wake Yuuji up, but the shame and taboo of it all was so intoxicating.
Yuuji shifted and manhandled Megumi's body like he weighed nothing, bending him forward, forcing his spine into a deep curve. Yuuji's larger frame blanketed him completely, his hips canting upward, searching. Megumi knew what was coming. He braced himself, but it was useless.
With a slick, vulgar glide, the fat head of Yuuji's cock caught on his rim and didn't stop. It popped inside his cunt with a greedy, welcoming suck. There was no fight. Megumi's body was so turned on, so utterly debased, that it simply opened up and swallowed the first few inches. The ease of it made him sick with delight. He was so loose, so ready for it, that his friend's sleeping cock had just sunk into him like he was made for it.
Yuuji groaned, a deep, guttural sound of animal satisfaction, and bit down hard on the tendon between Megumi's neck and shoulder. The sharp pain made Megumi cry out a broken, needy sound. In response, Yuuji's hips jerked, ramming the rest of that monster cock home until his heavy balls slapped against Megumi's taint. He was in. All the way in. Buried to the hilt in his best friend's body.
Megumi's inner walls fluttered and clenched, milking the thick shaft impaling him. The drag as Yuuji pulled back was delicious, a filthy friction that scraped against every sensitive nerve. When he pushed back in, it was possessive, like he was branding him from the inside.
Yuuji began to fuck him in earnest. There was no finesse or gentleness. It was the selfish, uncoordinated pumping of a man deep in a wet dream, using a warm body to get off. His cock was a battering ram, pistoning in and out of Megumi's abused cunt with wet, punishing slaps. Megumi was just a fleshlight, a tight, wet hole for Yuuji's pleasure. And God help him, he loved it. He could feel every thick vein, every ridge of that enormous cock. It had to be over six inches surely, a beast of a thing that was rearranging his insides, molding his cunt to its shape.
“Fuck... so tight... so good for me,” Yuuji was mumbling nonsense into his hair, his hot breath ghosting over Megumi's ear. The praise, meant for whoever it was he was dreaming about, was clearly for Megumi. It was his cunt making Yuuji feel this good. The thought sent a bolt of white-hot pleasure through him.
A new, depraved idea took root. If Megumi wanted to be used the way he wanted, then he was going to make this the best dream-fuck of Yuuji's life.
Megumi began to move back, meeting Yuuji's thrusts. He bore down, clenching his insides as hard as he could, turning his cunt into a vise. He wanted to be the perfect fleshlight, the best hole Yuuji had ever had that he'd forever be seeking the bliss of his tight pussy again. He wanted to make him come so hard his balls would be empty for a week.
The change was immediate. Yuuji's sleep-addled brain registered the increased pressure, and his hips snapped forward with renewed vigor. The thrusts became shorter, sharper, punching directly into Megumi's sweet spot. “Ungh ... take it... take my fucking cock…” he grunted.
Megumi was lost. The relentless pounding, the filthy praise, the sheer depravity of the situation was all too much. His orgasm hit him violently, as if he was in the centre of a supernova. His vision went white, body seizing and his cunt clamped down on Yuuji's cock like a bear trap, trying to milk the seed right out of him.
The clenching seemed to be the final straw. With a groan that was definitely not a sleepy moan, Yuuji slammed into him one last time. The arm around his waist became a crushing band, and he felt the cock inside him swell impossibly larger before it began to pulse. A thick, scalding jet of come hosed his insides, followed by another, and another. It was a flood, a relentless pumping of hot, potent seed that filled him until he felt bloated with it. Megumi probably should’ve counted how many spurts of come were coating his insides just to have more material for his wank bank. His body was nothing more than a quivering, overstimulated receptacle.
Yuuji's body finally went lax, his dead weight pinning Megumi to the mattress. His cock gave a few final, lazy twitches, depositing the last of its load before softening and slipping out with a filthy, wet slurp.
Instantly, a river of come gushed out of Megumi's gaping, ruined hole. It poured down his thighs, mixing with his own slick to create an even bigger mess on the sheets. Yuuji shifted, rolling onto his back with a soft, satisfied sigh. The arm that had imprisoned Megumi fell away, and he was free.
But he still couldn't move. He just lay there, face down in his drool-soaked pillow, listening to the sound of his friend's peaceful snores filling a room that reeked of their depravity. His cunt throbbed, and he felt thoroughly aching and used. Yet deep in his gut, a dark, satisfied part of him wanted it to happen again.