I remember waking up in the middle of the night to pee and being aware of Mike's presence in my bachelor apartment, but it hadn't seemed important until I'd woken up properly the next morning. I stirred on my floor mattress to the sound of Mike's loud snoring and realized that it was the first time he'd spent the night at my place.
I rolled over and looked up to see the bottom of Mike's foot, only a few inches from my face. He'd slept on my loveseat, filling the whole thing, with his head tilted back and his heels planted on the floor near the head of my mattress. My eyes moved from the hole in Mike's sock, up his big bulky thigh, to the round boulder of his belly, rising and falling as he snored. He still wore his dark red sweater and dark grey sweats. I took in the view of Big Mike before pushing myself up to a cobra pose.
I was a little murky but I wasn't very hungover. I hadn't gotten drunk in a while so I had expected to feel worse. As I rose to my feet, I realized that my pelvis lacked any post-sex soreness. I hadn't remembered what had happened the night before, and I also hadn't remembered changing into the pink and white pyjamas that held loosely on me either. A half empty bottle of powerade was on the kitchen counter, strawberry lemonade flavoured. Powerade was my go-to hangover drink. I looked back to Mike and glowed a little at the realization of how much he'd taken care of me.
He was still snoring like heavy mining machinery so I slipped around him into the bathroom to clean up. Luckily I wasn't shit-faced; a quick scrub and wash made me feel prettier. I brushed, flossed, and mouthwashed until my breath felt presentable. Mike's nasal roar wasn't stopping as I came out and I didn't want to wake him. It was only nine-thirty.
Instead, I stood next to him and ran my hand along his beard. His glasses were on the table and his thick black hair was whorled around in a mess like usual. His heavy brow and nose looked more and more handsome to me as time passed. He could definitely use a trim to reduce the sasquatch factor, but Mike was handsome as hell to me. I moved between his knees and carefully lifted up the hem of his sweater to reveal a few inches of thick, black belly hair. He continued to snore soundly, so I saw no reason to stop.
I lowered down to my knees and looked up at the beautiful mountainous view from between his thighs. I slipped one hand, palm up, into the crevice between his legs. My hand sunk between those warm walls and got stuck pretty quick. Mike was still snoring, so I dared to gently creep under the weight of his underbelly. His nasal roar gave me the confidence to push in until I reached his balls.
A sharp snort interrupted his snoring, but he didn't wake up. I started to massage the heavy bulge, with my palm at first, but then stroking with curled fingers. His snore slowly transformed into a low moan, which lit up my face. I loved the idea of pleasuring him while he slept. If I could've sucked his cock and brought him to orgasm in his dreams, I would've dove in immediately, but there was no way I could get to his cock in those sweats without him letting me in.
Mike began to murmur and shift, until I saw his eyes flicker and a smirk come to his lips.
"Morning, daddy." Mike kept his eyes closed and was slow to speak.
"Mmn...what're you doing down there?"
"Looking for treasure...under a sleeping dragon." He smiled, looking pleasured.
"Oh really? Well..." Mike shifted in his seat, my hands practically pinned under his crotch. "I'll let you touch the dragon's gold, little princess."
Mike slid his arms between his thighs and hefted up his huge belly. He leaned back and straightened his legs out wide for me. My loveseat creaked at the enormous shift of his weight, while he curled his feet and toes up. I pulled down the hem of his sweats and was floored at the sight and scent of his furry underbelly.
His smell was already an acquired pleasure to me, and the sight of his sasquatch paunch made me want to bury my face in fur. I slowly nuzzled the soft skin of my cheeks into his forested fupa, and was greeted with the warmth and slight sweat of his crotch. I kissed his skin and sucked mouthfuls of thick pubic hair before pulling the hem of his underwear down and seeing the head of his thick, flaccid cock poke out. I immediately took a deep whiff, letting the tip of my nose graze his corona, and then pushed out a warm breath on the pink glans.
Mike murmured some satisfaction at my little tease. If I'd had the restraint I would've kept teasing him, but I didn't have nearly enough willpower to keep that big dick out of my mouth for long. Mike knew that, too; he chuckled as my wet lips slid around his shaft.
I started to suck the cock of this man who owned me, and it was perfect. We were in my apartment with no risk of Aron walking in, I was fresh and clean, Mike was relaxed, and more than anything, he seemed fully aware that I genuinely, eagerly wanted him to cum down my throat. By that point he understood that he was pleasuring me by allowing me to worship him. I wanted that service to be my morning ritual from here on out.
He moaned louder, letting me know that I was pleasing him. His bassy voice vibrated through me from my ears to my g-spot. I started to thrust my hips slightly, wanting to fulfil the tease that his pleasured voice implanted between my thighs. My rhythm picked up, both in my rocking pelvis and my vacuum suction. I started to press deeper and deeper into his paunch, desperately fighting his weight to attempt a headbutt to his pelvis.
Mike's little chuckle increased, showing some amusement at my gusto.
"Little princess must really want the dragon's gold. Ya little gold digger...ya little slut tire-biter."
Mike began to grind his own hips, pushing back against my horny headbutts with lazy pelvic thrusts. His low moan became a rhythmic grunt of satisfaction as my facial muscles wrestled with the thick foreskin of his girthy organ. My loveseat began to squeak as Mike seemed ready to explode.
Mike grunted suddenly but, rather than his nuts, all that busted was the joint of one of my loveseat's legs. The frame cracked soon after as my poor furniture succumbed to Mike's tremendous weight. I realized something was off and was able to escape Mike's underbelly before he came crashing down to the floor.
"Fuck!"
Mike fell on his ass and rolled to one side under my now-destroyed loveseat. I sat on my heels looking at his big belly wobble as he rolled over and pushed himself with one arm.
"Oh shit...you okay?"
Mike huffed out an angry breath and furrowed his heavy brow.
"Yeah, just...breakin' more of your furniture. Fuck..." I couldn't tell if he was genuinely ashamed or not. "And I thought you told me you got a new bed. I didn't realize you've been sleeping on the floor this whole time."
It had been in the first few days of us knowing each other that Mike had cracked my bed frame in a failed attempt to fuck me. He'd been overcome with shame and had immediately tried to bail from our fling. It was only because I'd chased him down and badgered him to go out with me again that we'd ended up hitting it off. I'd told him that I had another bed from my parents I could use, just so he wouldn't feel any worse than he already did. That was before he'd known how enamored I was with him. This time around he was fully aware that I cared more about giving him a good blowjob than I did about my furniture.
