Walker

by BRK   

When you have a student who’s cursed with being irresistibly sexy and literally can’t wear shirts (because they evaporate off of him), you should probably just ignore him. Assuming that’s possible. Which? It isn’t.

Keith hurried down the hall to his classroom, annoyed that his History of Masculinity students had been kept waiting. Stupid departmental meetings, he groused inwardly. He got to the door and, twisting the knob, burst into the room and crossed rapidly to the large desk at the front of the room, readying his initial remarks on the day’s topics in his head. He dumped his satchel and turned to face his students—and then he paused, distracted.

The twenty guys still in his class—he’d had 25, but the faint-hearted who thought his course would be a chance to scope hot male bodies (starting with their buff young prof’s, not that Keith realized he was thought of as part of the curriculum) in exchange for an easy A had dropped after the syllabus had sadly quashed their hopes on the second part of that equation—were all positioned as usual, a three-quarters circle with a gap at the front of the room for where he normally moved around during lecture and discussion. But they weren’t paying any attention to their professor at all. Not a single one of them was even looking at him. They were all staring at—

“Walker!” Keith said, a little sharply, almost barking the name. He realized belatedly his irritation was carrying over from the bad mood he’d had before even coming into the room. He sighed, but held back from retracting his bark and waited for the boy to respond.

Walker sat directly on the opposite side of the circle. He looked like he was both apprehensive and a little dejected at all the attention. He opened his mouth but at first nothing came out, as if he were hesitant to speak. He seemed to swallow. Then: “Yes sir?” he said finally in a soft, deep voice that seemed to fill the air of the room and take up a position deep inside him, resonating profoundly in the most sensitive inner recesses of his insides where only a few hard cocks had ever penetrated.

Keith felt himself flush as his cock flash-hardened like a life raft, but just managed to refrain from releasing an involuntary gasp. The other students were not so possessed of self-discipline, and a number of gasps and even a moan or two were heard around the circle as their tools instantly hardened in automatic reaction to Walker’s voice.

Keith knew that their reaction, like his own, was normal and to be expected, but he was a little exasperated anyway. “Pipe down,” he muttered, then frowned at the unfortunate choice of words. He cleared his throat self-consciously. He was aware that the shape of his own fat hard-on was plainly visible thrusting along his hip through the clean, new blue jeans he affected in an effort to present himself as one of the “cool” profs. But there wasn’t anything he could do about that, and it wasn’t like any of his students were in a position to cast aspersions. One of the students nearest him on his right, a tight-bodied football jock named Isaac, actually had a hand cupped around his ample tool through his sweats, though he wasn’t being so crass as to stroke it. Actually most of the guys had their hands resting a little too casually in their laps. At least, Keith noted dryly, a few eyes were flicking toward him now—or, rather, his crotch.

What was it about Walker that was so damn mesmerizing? Keith stared at him, unaware his mouth was hanging slightly open, and tried to figure out what was going on. He took stock of the boy, taking in the rangy, seven-foot-tall form… the 12 out of 10 gorgeousness of his model-cute face and close-cropped blond hair… the round-framed glasses that made him look like a beautiful, old-fashioned scholar… his generously muscled shoulders, arms, torso and legs capped by pecs the size of his head looming over ten-pack abs and a 30-inch waist… the eight inches of hard, palm-wide boner shoving straight up out of the boy’s jeans… but, Keith thought with considerable frustration, there was nothing unusual. He sighed again, aware that Walker was watching him expectantly.

“Can’t you—” he started, then broke off and tried again. “Can’t you at least wear a shirt?” he said, already feeling like it was pointless to have asked. He felt oddly like he should know better, but he had to say something.

Walker was already shaking his head. “I can’t, professor,” he rumbled, shrugging his pale, massively bulging shoulders.

Keith tried to ignore the surge his cock gave in response to Walker’s prostate-prodding voice and the new chorus of soft moans from the other students, and made an effort to concentrate on what Walker was saying. “You can’t?” he repeated stubbornly, and, he knew, pointlessly. He knew the kid couldn’t wear shirts, but there had to some way to tone down the effect Walker had on all of them, right? Sure, it was normal for Walker, but still—!

Wordlessly (for which Keith was grudgingly grateful), Walker looked around the circle for help. Isaac, the horny football jock, seemed to pick up on Walker’s intent and shucked his own loose tee shirt so quickly Keith didn’t have time to tell him not to. He was already tossing the shirt to Walker, Walker catching it easily in his large right hand, by the time Keith said, “Isaac!”

“It’s for a good cause, professor,” Isaac said with a cheeky wink, settling back in his seat. Keith took a moment to appreciated Isaac’s muscle-packed, tight-waisted, zero-body-fat torso, lightly dusted with dark hair between the big pecs and down the hard abs, all fully exposed now that Isaac had sacrificed his tee shirt, and considered that if Walker weren’t here they’d all be staring at Isaac. But all eyes were still on the shy kid in the back who was telling them he literally couldn’t wear shirts.

They all watched expectantly as Walker, with some difficulty, pulled the shirt over his immense torso. But even as he was lowering his arms to draw the shirt down over his midsection it was already starting to melt away, vanishing into nothing. By the time Walker’s arms were all the way down there was no sign of the shirt—it was completely gone.

Walker gave Keith a chagrined look, but Keith nodded. “I knew that, it’s just—” he started to say, but suddenly he lost focus and was moving across the room toward Walker, pulling off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt as he did so.

Walker was looking at him a little ashamed. “Sorry, sir,” he said in that that rich, deeply penetrating voice of his. “It’s part of what my—of what was done to me. Whoever tries to get me to wear a shirt will go shirtless himself for a month—and will have an irresistible desire to blow me.” Keith was already kneeling in front of him, his dress shirt wadded in his hand. “I’m sorry sir,” Walker said. He sounded truly upset even as he undid his own fly and freed the bottom half of his monster cock.

Keith discarded the shirt and leaned toward Walker's potent manhood. “It’s to be expected,” he said absently. He hesitated, staring at the steel-hard cock and grapefruit-sized balls that were all but filling his vision. He knew that it was perfectly normal for Walker to have a 16” by 8” cock and balls bigger than Keith’s fist, but knowing it was normal and contemplating sucking a cock that size were two totally different things.

He glanced up and met Walker’s bright blue eyes. “You’ll be able to do it,” Walker whispered, and if anything the whisper was even more intensely intrusive than his normal, rumbling speaking voice. Keith did gasp this time as his own cock tried to get harder and pushed out a mess of thick precum into his shorts. He nodded up at Walker’s gorgeous face. Of course he would. He moved his face toward Walker’s boner and its big, leaking head—

But suddenly he was being pushed impatiently out of the way. “It was my shirt,” Isaac was saying. He was trying to get at Walker’s cock! “I have to be shirtless,” Isaac was insisting, moving into mouth Walker’s balls as he spoke. “I have to blow him!”

“Get out of the way,” Keith growled, trying to shoulder past him, their bare torsos mashing together as they tried to maneuver around each other. Keith felt aggravation welling up inside him. This was intolerable. He had to blow Walker—had to. Fuck, the whole class knew that. He remembered he was supposed to be in charge here. “Go back to your seat, Isaac!” he ordered, prevented by Isaac’s broad naked shoulders to get close enough to Walker’s cock with his mouth to even lick the hard shaft. In agony he tried to stretch his tongue out, wishing it were extra-long like Walker’s.

Suddenly Walker grabbed them both by their bare, muscular shoulders and held them fast. “Wait,” he commanded in a soft but urgent voice. Keith and Isaac both stilled themselves, looking up at him and seeing a strange look on Walker’s face. He seemed to be concentrating, as if he were remembering something he’d been told.

Then Keith seemed to hear it too, though no one was speaking: everyone’s attention was riveted on Walker, though he sensed movement behind them—a lot of repetitive, up and down movement, from what he could tell from his peripheral vision. But his eyes stayed on Walker’s supercute face as he thought he heard the wisp of a young man’s voice… Whoever needs to blow you will be able to blow you… Keith frowned. He thought he might be able to recognize that voice if he heard it more clearly. But in that moment something happened that completely took Keith’s mind away from anything else:

Walker moaned.

Instantly Keith’s fat cock was cumming hard in his jeans, pounding out a huge quantity of cum, and because they were pressed together he felt Isaac’s body shudder and knew the same thing was happening to him—they were both being wracked with an earthshaking orgasm. And the moans and shouts behind them told him they weren’t alone. But that wasn’t even what had Keith’s heart slamming against his ribcage.

As he stared up at Walker’s cock, he could see it was growing. A little bit in height, but mostly in width. It was getting wider—a lot wider. He and Isaac were both panting, hypnotized, both excited and scared. You’ll be able to do it. But how?? Despite having come already Keith felt unaccountably aroused and in need of cumming, in fact he felt close to the edge, as if he might cum again just from watching Walker’s cock grooooow, wider, wider, twice as wide, more…

Then something amazing happened. As Keith, Isaac, Walker, and the whole class of horny cum-covered jocks watched, Walker’s enormous cock snapped apart and became two, separate, towering 20-inch boners.

One for him, Keith thought, and one for me. He smiled possessively at the cock nearest him—his cock.

He wasted no more time. Keith and Isaac seemed to realize at the same time that they were still in close enough quarters they’d have to work together, so they both stood and crouched together, each wrapping an arm around the other’s hard bare torso as they moved in on Walker’s twin towers in tandem. They looked too big for anyone’s mouth, but somehow, as he and Isaac positioned themselves over their respective arm-sized cocks, their mouths not only wrapped around the heads, but they were able to take the shafts into their mouths, and then, rapturously, into their throats. The feeling of having Walker’s massive shaft inside him was brain-meltingly intense, and feeling Isaac’s slightly bristly face against his as they massaged the shafts with their mouths and tongues and throats somehow only intensified the sensation. They rubbed each other’s lats hard with strong hands, as if their shirtless torsos were cocks themselves, and enjoyed the feeling of Walker’s four hands stroking their heads and necks and shoulders. He must love having four hands when he’s alone with these monsters, Keith thought, enjoying the feel of Walker’s strong, warm grip on his bare traps. But this is hot too. Sooo hot.

As if they’d shared a new thought Isaac and Keith started to suck harder, pushing down to take their massive cocks all the way to the hilts and then pulling up together, now diving up and down on the top halves of the cocks in rapid stimulation, now pushing down to deep, deep throat them again, and suddenly Walker started making inarticulate noises and pushing his fingers through their hair and squeezing their hard delts and then—

Walker’s shouted orgasm, his cum exploding through his swelling cocks and deep into their entwined bodies, blasted through all of them like a shock wave—no, ten shock waves, each one seeming to drive every cell of Keith’s body to pure ecstasy, and then again, more, and again, more.

When he and Isaac more or less came to, on their knees again before Walker but with their arms still wrapped around each other’s broad backs, he wasn’t sure how much time had passed, only that he could still taste Walker’s sweet-savory cum. There was still some dripping down “his” cock and he eagerly moved forward to lap it up, bringing the not-quite-conscious Isaac up with him, but the cum that was all over his own massive torso was probably his own, he thought with a sigh, noticing that both his fat footlong boners had worked their way out of his jeans and were standing proudly up out of his waistband. Once he was done licking up the stray cum from “his” cock he glanced over at Isaac and noticed he was in the same predicament: his impressively muscled torso—why was he thinking he and Isaac hadn’t been this big before?—was covered in his own cum, obviously sprayed up from his own double set of footlong boners. Or were they bigger than Keith’s?

He looked up at Walker and smiled, shaking his head at his confusion over his and Isaac’s size. His sense of muscular proportion was just out of whack because they were both so much smaller than Walker, who was lolling back in his chair, his face blissful, his still-hard cocks standing tall and huge out of his crotch as if to inspire their smaller but still massive cousins thrusting up out of Keith’s and Isaac’s pants.

Keith got himself and Isaac to their feet and then detached his right arms from around Isaac’s super-wide back, pushing the befuddled four-armed jock toward his chair with a smile. Then he strode back to the front of the room. He looked around at the 18 hunky students with their cocks out and cum all over their tee shirts or bare torsos… at Isaac, the only one of them besides Walker as massively muscled as himself, sharing with Keith, he knew, not only size, not only the joys of having four strong arms and big thick twin boners that never wanted to go down, but on top of all that a craving,—an irresistible desire to blow Walker, an urgent and intense desire that wouldn’t go away… at Walker, a muscle colossus almost as big as Keith and Isaac put together, four arms hanging limp as he reclined happily, looking heavy-liddedly at Keith, two enormous cocks standing tall, waiting for Keith and Isaac to service them again… and he wondered if he could count on things always being this normal.

“Now, for today’s topic—” he began, but as the cum-covered class calmly got out their notebooks he glanced up at the clock and cursed under his breath. He changed what he had been going to say: “—we’ll have to wait until Wednesday.” The students laughed and put their stuff away again, those who’d doffed their shirts tossing them over their shoulders as they gathered in clusters and left together. He glanced at Isaac, who’d perked up and seemed reluctant to leave. He had no shirt to retrieve—it had vanished to never-never land. And of course Walker, who was climbing easily to his feet, couldn’t wear shirts. He saw the dress shirt he’d been wearing in a corner where he’d cast it aside, but there was no point in reclaiming it: he couldn’t wear shirts anymore either. Not for a month. At least.

“Now, gentlemen,” he said, his eyes taking in both Walker and Isaac as they all moved toward each other, “where were we?”

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