Milked

Finn's hand lifted me up and threw me to the side, on my knees. My face was draped with tears, sweat, and an agape mouth pouting. My eyes stared straight forward at Finn but it was as if I was seeing nothing

Finn was standing straight up in front of me. His still massively erect sword pointing right at me. Even though not even a minute ago, his staff was deep within my guts, it was surprisingly clean. His rod was still drenched in sweat and the syrupy soap he generously dispensed into me was dripping off of it.

Finn looked down at his dick "Ah shit, I made a mess all over me." He looked up at me and approached. He completely towered over me and I remained motionless, my face slowly looking up at him.

"Sorry Micheal, but I need you to help me with cleanup too". His hunky hand grabbed my head once more as he **** my mouth open with his other thumb.

"Don't worry, this shouldn't take long either. Just make sure you swallow every last drop". He said like he was commanding me too. I wasn't exactly sure what he meant, but It didn't take long to find out. He lined his upright cock with my mouth, another hole for him to use, and plunged it straight in.

Immediately I clawed at his waist and thighs, pointlessly. Finn's dick, covered in his thick juice, slipped down my throat. It was like eating the worst...or maybe the best...sausage. He didn't let me take control and suck it at my own rate, rather he used his hips to thrust it down my throat, holding my head with both hands so I couldn't escape.

My eyes began to well up with tears again. It was so. Fucking. Big.

Finn started to groan louder and thrust faster, and based on the experience I had just recently acquired, I knew what that meant. I choked. I squealed. I banged my hands on his hips. Any plunge down my esophagus could be the last one and before I knew it.

Finn came in my throat. I swallowed every drop.