Two weeks ago, I got really drunk at a frat party and sucked off one of my bros. Since that night, he has not said one word to me. Does not even acknowledge me in the hallways, when we see each other.
Every morning since, however, I have awoken to this view.
I am expected to deal with his morning hardon, by swallowing a massive load of his warm jizz. He never speaks, just walks into my room, pulls his cock thru the fly of the briefs he sleeps in, and rams his rigid slab of meat into my face. He won’t let me blow him, he needs to get off by skull fucking me hard. I usually endure about fifteen minutes of his crotch pounding into my head, trying to get his cock deeper into me with each thrust. Pushing in as far as possible he paints my throat with his creamy, white ball juice, pulling out to insure one or two spurts end up splashed across my face, marking me. He then grabs whatever is handy, a corner of my sheet or, more often, my pillow, and wipes his cock clean.
He never even looks back at me as he leaves the room.