A Quiet Roommate

Jonathan Myles and Conrad Ward were two sophomores at Amajor University, good friends, who couldn’t have run more different circles. Jon was relatively soft spoken, small framed young man, his svelte yet toned frame topping out at only five foot eight. He was bookish, rarely spoke up for himself, had difficulty holding a conversation about anything not directly related to academics (in which he excelled) and often seemed as if he wasn’t so much looking out at the world from behind his horn-rimmed spectacles, but hiding from it.

Conrad, on the other hand, was a six foot ten-inch towering figure. Though his muscles had softened a bit from his high school football heyday, his body was still husky, powerfully defined and imposing. His strong jawed, face forever sported uneven patches of scruff that made him look older than his nineteen years Conrad was easy going and popular, and bombastic to a fault.

So the year before, when they met each other for the first time after having been randomly assigned to live together in the freshman dorm, they both instantly assumed it would be a relationship of convenience, being just polite enough to each other for the school year to get by without drama. Over that first year, though, they started finding they had more in common than their cursory assessments had revealed. They had similar views on a variety of issues — Conrad laying down ‘everyman’ arguments while Jon took a more haughty academic approach, but both still arriving at the same place. Their chats would routinely stretch into the night, then at lunch the next day, then be picked up the next weekend. High minded discussions about politics and things gradually become more casual, personal chats. By second semester the two were full-fledged friends, though they continued to run mainly in different circles. Conrad spent a lot of time with his fraternity brothers or at the bar flashing his fake ID. Jon spent hours at the library or with his friends from various academic clubs. But at night, when they talked and hung out, it felt like a totally natural partnering of opposites. Which is why Conrad’s supportive response to Jon’s coming out over the first spring break wasn’t entirely a surprise — how else would a (by now quite close) friend react. Conrad, however, was entirely straight. Changing girlfriends almost every other week. Conrad would politely find someplace else to go whenever Jon would bring home ’study partners’ (many of whom Conrad recognized as ’straight’ lady’s men).

And so it went for the rest of the year, and over the summer, as the two laid the foundation of a solid friendship. It was now Friday night in the fall of their sophomore year. They had moved into Westwood Arms, an apartment-style dorm on the edge of campus, and earlier that day Jon watched as the last cars pulled from the parking lot — students scrambling to make it home to enjoy their three day midterm break. Earlier that night, when the Student Advisor for the dorm knocked to inform Conrad and Jon that he was going home for the weekend, too. Jon and Conrad were alone in Westwood.

“Well, this is boring.” Conrad moaned sitting on their flea-market couch, his right leg sticking straight out and resting on the coffee table, the foot wrapped in a heavy cast. It was an unusually warm evening, so Conrad had ditched his shirt and was only wearing athletic shorts, commando as usual, and despite their lose fit a noticeable bulge rested lazily between his legs.

“How’s your foot?” Jon asked half laughing.

Conrad had badly sprained his foot in a freak accident walking down the library stairs the week earlier, and was now forced to spend most of his time at home not moving very much.

Joh plopped down next to Conrad, their shoulders touching, and patted Conrad’s upper leg. It was firm and muscular even through his baggy athletic shorts. His bare chest tensed and his face winced slightly as the vibration of the leg petting reached his still very sore foot.

“Easy!” Conrad said through gritted teeth, “I don’t know why it still hurts so much. Man this is torture… and back off,” he said the last part jokingly, giving his roommate a friendly shove to separate their shoulders. Jonathan laughed.

It was no secret between the two that Jon — like most people — found Conrad attractive. Jon had spilled gallons of sperm stroking off thinking about Conrad. But whereas Conrad assumed that he played the dominant, top role in the soft-spoken Jon’s fantasies, in Jon’s head. Conrad was usually the one being dominated, the big stud wailing in pain and pleasure while Jon’s average-length, but very thick cock tore into his virgin hole.

Shortly after Jon had come out the prior semester, the two were enjoying contraband wine coolers in their dorm. Conrad asked Jon to toss him another one, and Jon - his aim clouded by alcohol - complied, with the wayward bottle landing squarely on Conrad’s bulging crotch. To Jon’s surprise, he got incredibly aroused at the site of the stud cradling his balls. And since that time, and with increasingly violent outcomes, Jon’s Conrad fantasies usually involved some sort of busting, squeezing or tugging. Jon had never actually seen Conrad naked despite Conrad’s habit of walking around the dorm and apartment in only a bath towel, but just based on the permanent bulge Conrad sported Jon imagined they were huge, inviting targets. Even in baggy clothes, like gym shorts, they could be seen bouncing around. And in jeans it was quite easy to make out the defined bulge of each individual nut.

Over time Jon was able to sneak hurting Conrad into everyday situations. A can of soda, thrown to his thirsty roommate as a favor, would have a little too much force bouncing off Conrad’s well-defined chest. A playful slap on the ass after a joint run was just a bit too firm. All the while Conrad was oblivious that the captain of the Star Trek fan club wasn’t landing these wayward hits on accident. But with all the horse play, Conrad’s nuts were almost never targets. They were just too big and tempting and Jon feared that, if he started on them, he may not be able to stop…

This evening’s accidental-deliberate hit to the thigh to hurt Conrad’s foot was just another instance of Jon acting out his dominant fantasy against Conrad. And another instance where Conrad brushed it off with stride.

“Maybe you should have a beer, to distract you from that,” Jon nodded toward Conrad’s foot.

Conrad nodded approvingly and Jon sprung up for the kitchen. He returned with two cans of beer and a bottle of vodka, a heavy glass bottle which he held over Conrad’s lap.

“Thanks… oomph!” Conrad’s breath was taken away as the bottle was dropped, compressing his orbs into the seat.

“Oops. Guess you’ll need some vodka for that too haha”

Conrad sighed and cracked open the bottle. Jon, never a heavy drinker, nursed his beer as Conrad finished off half the bottle of vodka and the other beer while some mindless straight-to-video action movie played on the screen. An hour passed, and Jon had just finished his beer. Conrad, on the other hand, was becoming quite drunk, his eyes crossing randomly as he attempted to keep up with the idle conversation he and Jon were having.

“Man, Zelda is such a fucking bitch.” Conrad declared quite abruptly, his tone becoming slightly agitated.

Jon rolled his eyes “What’d she do now”

Zelda, Conrad’s flavor of the week, had so far lasted longer than the others despite the fact Conrad seemed to complain about her more than most. Jon’s eye brows furled as we awaited today’s anti-Zelda rant.

“She hasn’t put out since break,”

Jon’s eyes widened “Break? You mean since summer? Man, it’s midterms, that means…”

“I know, right! I haven’t gotten any in three fuckin months. She keeps going on about commitment. Man I love her but she’s a bitch.” Conrad finished this last statement with another swig of vodka, apparently undisturbed by the blatant contradiction of his words.
Seeing an opening, Jon began to mentally detach from the sheepish school boy Conrad thought was sitting next to him on the couch. Jon scooted closer so that they were touching shoulders again. Conrad turned to look at him, his face lit into a goofy, genuine grin, and this time he didn’t’ even try to push Jon away. They were, after all, best friends Conrad had concluded to himself but hadn’t actually declared out loud lest he be labeled ‘gay’.

“I like you, Jon.”

Jon smiled back, a shy nerdy grin to everyone but him who knew it was the shit face grin he envisioned himself taking in the fantasies where he fucked Conrad. Jon had seen Conrad like this before, laid back, beyond simply drunk but not quite to the point of being a puking, totally disoriented mess. It was when Conrad was most open, most vulnerable. Jon’s masterful act of playing the companionate listening ear meant that Conrad was so comfortable at this stage of one of this drunken nights that there were few limits of what Conrad would share. Conrad continued to babble on about Zelda, classes and other mindless chit chat and Jon nodded and pretended to be engaged, while all the while eyeing Conrad’s massive bulge. It was time…

“So, Conrad. If they’re turning blue I might be able to help you out with that.”

Conrad looked at his friend in confusion.

Jon’s hand rested gently on Conrad’s thigh and he began to lightly stroke it “I mean, I’m pretty good at helping guys out in your situation.”

Conrad’s eyes lit up in realization.

“No. I mean, I like you but… ahh.” Conrad’s eyes rolled back in pleasure as Jon stuck his hand into the band of his athletic shorts, grabbed his cock and began to stroke. Jon and Conrad locked eyes, Conrad’s lips parted in silent moans and Jon masterfully stroked his growing cock. Conrad’s cock felt truly enormous, and it wasn’t even fully hard. Precum was leaking like a faucet. Jon felt himself getting aroused, but consciously ignored it lest he get distracted from his plan and end up simply having sex with Conrad instead.

Even though Conrad was straight, he had been feeling sexual tension building between them for months, and besides, he was entirely too drunk and the hand job felt entirely too good to contest.

“Let’s get these off.”

Jon got on the ground between Conrad’s spread legs and pulled the athletic shorts to off, careful to be gentle when getting it off the foot with the cast. After all, he didn’t want Conrad overly distracted by pain coming from the wrong place…

With the shorts off, Jon couldn’t help but gasp and say “holy shit!” at what he saw.

Conrad’s cock was, without exaggeration, as thick as a beer can and 8 inches long with a bulbous, perfectly shaped mushroom head. Thick, pulsing veins ran along its length like confused highways. Neatly trimmed, jet black hairs rimmed the base of his cock where his overstuffed scrotum bulged. Conrad’s nuts were each slightly smaller than large eggs, oblong and tight against the skin of his sack. There was little slack in his scrotum, which Jon found a pleasant surprise since it meant the taught nuts would have no place to hide as the evening went on.

In a move he probably practiced dozens of times with various women, Conrad’s hands reached for the back of Jon’s head and - to his surprise– Jon forcefully pushed them away.

“I got this stud, I’m gonna bust these nuts.”

Conrad sighed in relief, cocked his head back, closed his eyes and let his hands fall to his sides. Jon opened his mouth so wide he actually felt a slight sting in his jaw, and then went down on Conrad’s cock. The first few inches went without effort, but by the sixth inch the girth along with making it hard for Jon to finish. Jon had sucked longer cocks, but none that were so long and so thick. Jon pulled away briefly, a trail of drool connecting his tongue to Conrad’s cock, took a deep breath, opened his mouth as wide as he could and went down on Conrad’s cock in one fell swoop.

“Holy fuck!” Conrad shrieked in pleasure. He’d never had anyone who would take his entire cock at once and it felt wonderful.

Jon’s head bobbed up and down with expert ability, increasing in speed as he went. Conrad was moaning and twitching uncontrollably as Jon milked his cock with his tongue and throat. Conrad could see his bookish friend’s throat bulge each time his cock plunged into it. It was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

This went on for several minutes before Jon switched up his routine, choosing instead to lick the length of the shaft from bottom to top, bottom to top, like a giant candy cane. During the course of his sucking, Jon had swallowed so much precum he could feel it sloshing around in his stomach as his head bobbed and weaved to masterfully caress Conrad’s cock with his tongue.Conrad was in ecstasy and hardly noticed as Jon reached out to hold his hands. To Jon’s surprise, Conrad’s strong hands embraced his, their fingers locked intimately; perhaps Conrad wasn’t as straight as he thought he was…

John looked up into Conrad’s face, his forehead with dripping with sweat and his eyes were closed in pleasure. Jon took his time to gradually push his arms forward, so that Conrad’s got pushed back, until he was essentially hugging Conrad, forcing Conrad’s hands to meet behind his lower back. They reach… he concluded.

“Hey stud, I’ll be right back. I got this wicked lube I wanna use on that big monster.”

“You want me to fuck you?”
Jon pretended not to hear the question, sheepishly smiling at the thought that Conrad still envisioned himself the dominant figure. Jon left the room for several moments, returning with a bottle of lube and some other object Conrad assumed was a condom. Jon took his position crouched between Conrad’s legs and poured a generous amount of the slick lube onto the massive cock.

“Oh my God! Jon! Oh fuck you’re gonna make me… oh God”

Conrad’s head kept rolling back, his arms outspread grasping throw pillows as Jon methodically pumped all eight inches of cock with both hands. The lube, mixed with Conrad’s precum was making it so slippery; Jon’s hands had virtually no friction as he glided up and down the shaft. Jon stopped this after he had gotten Conrad’s cock so hard it felt like a thick metal bar, and then took proceeded to grab the freakishly large, engorged head and polish it with his hand.

Conrad was in ecstasy.

“Oh, I’m gonna blow, oh…”

“No not yet.” Jon said with more resolve than Conrad had ever heard him use “I wanna try something. Sit back.”

Conrad, not wanting to miss out on this ’something’ complied, and leaned back in his chair. Jon stood up and took a place behind Conrad, his own bulging crotch just inches from the back of Conrad’s head. He proceeded to reach over Conrad’s shoulders and massage his pecs, playing with each nipple. Conrad moaned and his nipples became rock hard. Distracted by the massage, Conrad was too turned on to really notice that the massage stopped for a moment. Jon reached down and grabbed one of Conrad’s hands in each of his, their fingers locked again, and guided them behind his back. Then, in one fell swoop, Jon reached for the other object he had stashed in his pocket — a cable tie — looped it over Conrad’s powerful wrist and bound the jocks’ hands together.

“Hey what the!” Conrad turned to look at Jon only to find he was no longer there, he had already come around the couch and was standing in front of Conrad’s spread legs. Conrad went to stand, but was stopped by a rush of pain from his foot.

“What gives?”

“You’ll see.”

Jon took a see next to Conrad and proceeded to grab one of his massive nuts in each hand. He was no longer gentle, instead digging into each with his thumb, feeling the unyielding ball meat in his hands.

“Oh yeah.” Jon said, too turned on now to try to ignore it.

Conrad screamed as his left nut took a particularly hard squeeze “What are you… AAAH!”

Jon didn’t’ say anything as he continued to kneed and viscously squeeze the balls. “Let’s see if I can pick you up by your sack.”

Conrad looked at Jon in terror, but before he could say anything in objection, Jon stood up, standing between Conrad’s massive legs and grabbed the bloated sack with both hands and squeezed until his hands were turning red. Conrad screamed, but that only made Jon more turned on, which made him squeeze tighter. As soon as Jon was sure he could not compress the still firm orbs any tighter, he started to pull up. Conrad couldn’t put any weight on his lame foot to attempt to stand, so he couldn’t relieve the pressure building in his nuts as they were pulled further and further from his body.

Conrad’s screams were now one inhuman drone, his cock had long since gone flaccid, and as Jon had pulled the massive balls a foot away from Conrad’s body. Since there was virtually no slack in his scrotum to begin with, the balls were pressing so tight against the top of the stretched sack that every vein and dimple could be seen. The sack still pulled taught, Jon made an O with his thumb and forefinger to make an impromptu ring, further trapping the nuts from descending to safety.

“Jon… stop! STOP!”

Jon ignored the whimpering stud and instead balled his free hand into a fist. Their eyes locked and Conrad mouthed ‘no’ one he realized what has going to happen next.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

With rapid intensity Jon’s fist hammered into the trapped back, five, ten, twenty times. Conrad was crying and screaming, every attempt to stand stopped cold by pain from his foot.

Jon abruptly stopped his assault and let go of Conrad’s nuts. They fell the twelve inches to the couch with a plop. They were swollen and beet red and Jon crouched down to examine them. Taking a nut in each hand he rolled each ball, pressing in with his thumb as if testing the feel of ripe fruit. To his dismay they were just as firm and unyielding as when he started. Conrad, though the examination was rough and painful, was visibly relieved to feel each nut still perfectly intact.

Jon picked up this vibe of relief and was filled with a sudden rage. He dropped the heavy balls and ran into the kitchen. He riffled through the drawers, Conrad could hear things clanging to the ground, and returned moments later holding a wooden mixing spoon.

“No! Please man… what do you want. Please stop hurting my… AHH!”

Conrad’s pleas were interrupted by a whoosh of air and the dull thud of the spoon crashing into the swelling nuts. Jon slammed the spoon head into the defenseless orbs so many times his arms began to tire, multiple times Conrad nearly threw up, his head cocked back and his eyes rolling in his head nearly comatose.

The relentless pounding went on for nearly ten minutes, and Jon could feel the spoon encountering less and less resistance as the delicate membranes that were keeping Conrad’s proud orbs round and whole started to give way. He threw the spoon on the ground and knelt so that he was at eye level with Conrad’s crotch. His balls had swollen to nearly twice their size, making them look enormous especially compared to the now , limp cock laying lazily over them. Jon grabbed a nut in each hand and again squeezed and crushed them in his hand to test for firmness.

Bingo.

The right nut was, while still whole and round, starting to get softer compared to the left. It was also swollen larger than the left and was more blackish blue compared to the left nut’s red. He made an O with his thumb and forefinger again to trap the right nut so that it was pressing against the skin of the sack, totally trapped and unable to retreat into his body, formed a fist with his hand and pounded. He was slow and methodical.

WHACK. Jon’s penis, which had been rock hard this entire time, spasmed at the sensation of the ball meat compressing under the blow

Whack. Jon’s penis twitched again.

WHACK WHACK WHACK. A dozen or more — at this point Jon wasn’t keeping track — blows smashed the defenseless nut, the ball meat becoming less and less resistant to his fist. He grabbed the now ridiculously swollen orb and kneaded and squeezed with both hands. It was definitely getting softer and losing its shape, but was still all in all whole.

Jon let the heavy nut hit the couch, Conrad essentially comatose, then ran for the kitchen, then the bathroom. He made one last stop at the hall closet where they kept their random ‘rooommate swag’ then came back to Conrad’s limp, hulking frame. He produced the bottle of smelling salts from the bathroom and proceeded to waft them under Conrad’s nose. The lumbering stud became instantly aware of the situation — and the pain in his balls– and started pleading and sobbing for Jon to stop. Jon didn’t pay any attention as he produced the other items, a filet knife and a firecracker they’d left over from the Fourth of July.

He set the knife on the coffee table and placed the miniature bomb next to Conrad’s sack, making a telling ‘explosion’ motion by tightly clenching his fist then opening his hand rapidly.Conrad’s eyes grew wide, tears streaming down his face. The helpless jock pissed on himself.

Jon slammed his fist into Conrad’s foot — making the stud squeal in agony — , an unnecessary reminder of just how helpless he was, then proceeded to set down the firecracker and reach for the long-forgotten bottle of lube. He slathered a generous portion on his hand and began to stroke Conrad’s cock. Despite himself, Conrad’s cock only took a few minutes to be at full attention.When it was its full eight inches, Jon picked up the wooden spoon and began striking the defenseless cock all over its fat length. Conrad squealed and pleaded as welts started to mar his once beautiful cock. Jon kept striking the cock until skin began to break and trickles of blood ran from it. He then started pounding straight down on the cock head, as if pounding a nail. The fat organ, still too stiff to effectively soften the blows, was being utterly destroyed. Jon felt something ‘crack’, blood oozed from the multiple ruptured blood vessels on the shaft.

Conrad couldn’t believe his entire sex life was being destroyed by his sheepish, bookish, harmless roommate.

Before Conrad could even comprehend the pain from his cock, Jon reached for the filet knife and sliced right down the seam of the sack. Conrad let out a scream so loud that for a moment even Jon was taken aback. But, he continued his plan undeterred. As soon as he had made a small incision, he inserted the knife again, only this time making sure to go in at an angle so as to cut into the bloated right nut. Jon instantly came in his pants as he felt the knife puncture the testicle, but despite the fact he had just cum, his cock remained rock hard.

Conrad looked down in disgusted horror at the scene. His nuts were being literally hacked to death while his friend was cumming on himself in pleasure. He couldn’t believe it.

Jon set the knife down and picked up the firecracker, inserting it so that it dug into the hole he had punctures in Conrad’s right nut.

“Oops, forgot something,”

Jon ran to the hall closet and produced a lighter and several other small objects Conrad was in too much pain to comprehend.

Without ceremony, Jon lit the fuse of the firecracker, since only a small tip was left visible and stood back.

Conrad begged “Please! Please! Please! Not my nuts! Not my nuts! Please!’

Jon watched as the fuse got shorter… and shorter…

“OH! OH!” Jon moaned, his head cocking back in pleasure as he explosively came a second time, a sheen of sticky wetness coating the front of his jeans. A moment later there was a muted ‘pop’. The firecracker had exploded.

Conrad let out a tremendous scream and passed out. Jon swooped to his kneads to feel his handy work. Conrad’s right ball had been blown apart from the inside out. He could feel through the sack that the once huge, proud ball had fractured into three large pieces. His cock stirred as he continued to roll the fractured nut in his hands. He felt Conrad’s left nut with this other hand and it was not only still intact, but fairly firm.

Jon grunted.

“Wakey! Wakey!” Jon sneered as he again used the salts to awaken Conrad from any kind of relief from his nightmarish pain.

“Aaaah! My balls please! I wanna’ have kids… please!”

“Oh well.”

Jon, not wanting to have to draw out the process of destroying Conrad’s last nut, grabbed a handful of firecrackers — the mysterious objects Conrad hadn’t been able to make out. He tore the flesh of the original incision and proceeded to cram one fire cracker in after another. The left nut hadn’t been punctured, so the firecrackers just rested around it, but Jon was sure to make sure a few were wedged between the pieces of his right nut. When it was over, Conrad’s sack was a macabre display, it was bulging irregularly from the six firecrackers Jon was able to cram in.

“No! Please! They’re all I got! PLEASE!”

Jon proceeded to stroke Conrad’s cock with the lube with one hand while toying with the lighter with the other. Despite himself, and the peril his nuts were in, Conrad’s beaten cock became rock hard again. Jon stroked and sucked the battered cock until Conrad — too his own surprise — threw his head back and moaned

“I’m cumming!”

A thick glob of pinkish jizz shot several feel into the air, raining down on both of them. Before Conrad could produce another spurt Jon squeezed his shaft as hard as he could. Jon could feel Conrad’s blocked cock pulse as what would have been spurt after spurt were stopped mid-way up the shaft. Conrad was apparently a heavy, shooting cummer, so his cock tube was quickly overloading from the denied cumshot.

“OOOH! SHIT! Let go! OH!” Conrad screamed, his head rolling uncontrollably from the pain.

His baby batter tubes were at their breaking point and Conrad was still ‘cumming’.

“OH!!” He screamed and Jon felt something in the cock snap. Then something else. Conrad kept cumming, the overload was too much. Jon felt Conrad’s cock snap in the middle where he had been holding it like a broken stick.

“MY COCK! MY COCK!” Conrad screamed. Jon let go of the now ridiculous looking cock, perfectly hard expect it was now bent at nearly a right angle in the middle. A sad dribble of pink, then red jizz oozed out of the cock head. Just for kicks, Jon ’straighten’ the broken dick just enough to stroke it. It was incredibly painful for Conrad but, being a red-blooded stud, he couldn’t resist one final cumshot. It was a gusher. Jon had felt the ‘pulsing’ of at least a dozen denied cumshots from the first round and most of that sperm was still waiting to shoot out, so when Conrad shot again, the volume was incredible. Pinkish jizz shot all over Conrad’s toned chest, all over Jon, up into the air, where it fell and landed all over both of them.

Conrad cried as Jon let go of the ruined dick and reached for the lighter. He lit the flame and held it under the left nut. Conrad could feel his nut boiling in the sack, the flesh melted away and smoke rose. They both knew it wouldn’t be long for the heat to ignite the fireworks….

“Please…” Conrad, trying his best to fight back a scream of pain in order to make sure his words were as clear as possible “Please don’t do…”

POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP!

All six firecrackers erupted in rapid succession, each cascading from the next. Jon watched as if in slow motion as first the contents of the sack were blown into a liquid goo, then the sack split open completely, which meant that the final firework’s explosion made the ball goop splatter all over both of them. Conrad looked down into his lap. His once proud balls were history, reduced to unrecognizable globs of mess on his abs and all over Jon. Jon’s glasses were covered with gunk… which he knew not long ago had been firm, round balls.

Jon stood up, grabbing Conrad’s now flaccid but still fat cock. Its base had been badly damaged in the explosion and was only holding on by a few pieces of flesh and its chords going into the body. 

“No.. please. Spare my cock…”

No such luck, as Jon gave a hard yank with both hands. Conrad’s mighty cock resisted for as long as it could, but with a damaged base and virtually no connecting tissue left, it was a losing proposition. The entire thing came off with an audible ripping sound. 

Jon held it in front of Conrad’s face; he was — remarkably — still awake to witness the total destruction. They both locked eyes for a moment, then Conrad opened his mouth so wide his jaw hurt… and screamed.

“Oh shut up, Conrad!” Jon hissed as he crammed the cock into his mouth as a gag. 

Conrad nearly threw up, but Jon pinched his nose with one hand and held his mouth shut with the other. With the hand over Conrad’s mouth, he proceeded to force his bottom jaw up and down, effective making Conrad eat his own penis.

Conrad involuntarily swallowed as his mouth filled with mushed cock meat. Half his cock was gone.

“Almost done…”

GULP.

Conrad swallowed the last of the cock meat as Jon released his mouth and nose and let the nutted stud gasp for air. Jon stood there for several moments, looking down at the gory chunks that were all that were left of Conrad’s massive equipment. The sight was too much; he whipped out his cock and began to stroke, reaching down to scoop up some of goop from Conrad’s lap to use as lube. Conrad had passed out at this point, so wasn’t able to feel Jon’s thick, steamy load as it shot out and coated his face. Jon was amazed at how much cum he was shooting considering it was already his third cumshot that night.

By the time he was done explosively cumming, Jon had pumped so much spunk on Conrad’s face that the handsome stud was almost unrecognizable. A thick coating of cum dripped from every square inch of his face, off the tip of his nose and coated his lips.

After the euphoria of what was without a doubt the best orgasm he’d ever had worn off, Jon stepped back and looked at the messy scene before him. Conrad’s sex life was utterly ruined, but for good measure he reached for the spoon and proceeded to beat the busted open sack and small fragments of nuts until he was sure nothing but stud nut soup remained.

“That was hot” he thought to himself. “Who’s next?”