Right behind Sam!

There it is! Right between his feet! Still milking him with one hand, you reach between Sam's legs with the other and snatch up the glass. Then, you angle his cock down into it and stroke him vigorously as you plant kisses all over his taut six-pack. "Oh, fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Sam announces. "Yes, cum for me! Give it to me, and I'll give you a ****!" That is enough to push Sam over the edge. He grunts, and his dick swells up in your hand. Sam bucks his hips forward one final time just as the first jet of his cum hits the bottom of the glass. The sweaty, bulky man shudders as he cums, putty in your hands as you continue to coax as much of the liquid **** out of him as you can.

When he's finally done, he collapses to the side, completely out of breath. Men... But you can't bring yourself to be upset with him, because in your hands you hold a glass almost half-full with thick, off-white cum. The full genius of your plan strikes you again, and you giddily jump off the bed, careful not to spill a drop. You set the glass down on the table, strangely proud at yourself for obtaining it. Then you look back at Sam. He's pulled himself together somewhat, it seems, and he's sitting on the edge of the bed. "You," he begins between laboured breaths, "are one good fuck. We definitely need to do that again." Oh, yes, yes you do. "But after," you reply, "After Mandy loses the GAME, we can fuck properly." You shudder at thought of capping such fiery fucking with the satisfaction of having him cum inside of you at the end, right as you clamp down on him in your own climax... But that's for another day. Soon, you hope. It had better be soon.

"Why don't you stay the night?" Sam asks, still breathing heavily. "I may have done most of the work, but you must be pretty tired as well."