Wishful thinking

by Delinqual

Why were all the guys at school absent? There are rumors about everyone’s junk getting embarrassingly bigger, but they can’t be true. Can they?

Added: 9 Jan 2014 1,749 words 10,929 views 3.6 stars (5 votes)

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The sky was a beautiful hue of blue that day, with scarce, puffy clouds. It was sunny, and not too hot, if I remember correctly. It was in April, I remember that, but I don’t remember what day. I was heading to class, the college campus as uninviting to my mind despite the amazing weather.

The math building was as crowded as ever, with students hanging out in the first floor lobby between and during classes. The sofas along one wall were almost always occupied by at least one person. I wish they’d not ripped up the carpet, though; the new tile floor echoed way too much. Anywho, I wasn’t ready for class yet, so I decided to stop and talk to some of my friends. Me being me, I sat on one of the couches and surveyed the people that walked through. Lots of nerdy math majors, as always, but some were average looking, and even a few were downright hot. Both girls and guys existed, but in my mind, the girls may as well just keel over, because they hardly ever did anything to grab my attention. I was far more interested in the hot jocks that would be forced to come into our building for the general education courses on the second and third floors.

That day, one I knew by the name of Brad walked through the lobby. My eyes followed him immediately. He was wearing a loose t-shirt and jeans, untucked so the shirt hung out over his front side. I say the shirt hung out in front of him because his chest was large enough to create that delicious shelf that they sometimes do. He had a tiny waist, and a huge bubble butt, causing the backside of his shirt to sit on top. I watched with my legs crossed as he walked away from me, watching either side of his luscious ass jump every time he moved. His legs were large, too, evident from the fact that his jeans were loose in the waist, but tight in the thighs and even the calves. The man hit the iron hard.

Brad heard someone call out his name and stopped in the hall to turn and talk to them. I had to tighten my legs again. He was only about twenty-five feet away from me. My eyes were immediately drawn to my favorite part of Brad: the massive bulge in his jeans. It was one of those bulges that created folds in his jeans when he walked, because all his junk was pushed to one side of the crotch. It was as beautiful as the blue sky outside that day, and I was granted the opportunity just then to stare at it for a while, its amazing profile facing me while he talked. He laughed rather heartily at a joke his friend told, and his pecs caused his shirt to bounce up, further out of the way. His waist was so tiny!

Brad bid farewell to his good friend and turned away from me, heading to the elevator. I didn’t blame him; the stairs in our building were monsters, and I think his class was on the third floor. But that action allowed me to watch his butt move away from me once more, until he disappeared from view.

Classes continued, and the day ended. I retreated to my apartment that afternoon, the image of Brad’s monster bulge and wonderful butt still in my mind from that morning. I entered the apartment with a stiffy, holding my bookbag in front of me so that my roommate wouldn’t notice. I acted like the thing was heavy and heaved it back to the bedroom and the attached master bathroom. I had to calm this thing down, and I decided to use my favorite method.

I entered the bathroom and quickly peeled off my shirt in front of the mirror. Looking at myself, I shrugged. I wasn’t terribly out of shape, but I had a slight tummy and a thick chest. I dropped my drawers to reveal my respectable 6” manhood straining in the cold bathroom air. I grinned and leaned against the wall, my hand moving to my member. My apartment was on the end of the building, so it was okay if I made a little noise up against the wall; no one would hear me. My hand glided over my dick, sending a slight wave through my spine.

With my raging member as hard as it would get, my hand started moving rhythmically up and down its length. The distinct image of Brad and his bulge appeared in my mind, sending me into a bit of a tizzy. I moaned. Then, the image of Brad distorted ever so slightly. He was dancing naked in front of me, with a massive flaccid penis swinging in front of him. It couldn’t have been any less than six inches, completely flaccid, and very thick to match. His balls were rather nice, too. This was my imagination, though, and his penis soon began to expand as it engorged with blood. Soon, it was standing straight up as he danced, its plump red head just above his navel. It must have been 9.5” long or so, and as big around as a beer can.

I moaned again, and my hand picked up pace.

That’s when I decided that 9.5” wasn’t enough for big Brad. That’s probably close to what he actually had in his pants, and I’m a sucker for the extreme. The erection in my mind began to expand again, kind of like a second erection, finally coming to rest at a forty-five degree angle out from Brad’s stomach. The tennis ball-sized cockhead was just underneath the massive shelf of muscle that could also be known as Brad’s chest. It was a glorious sight. I could feel my already fully erect penis expanding as well, building up for my final release. Suddenly, the image in my head switched to Brad jerking the massive cock with both hands, and cum spewing forth from it as if to quench the thirst of every man on Earth.

That did it for me.

I moaned rather loudly as I felt the convulsions from between my ass cheeks begin. My PC muscle spasmed violently, sending shot after shot of cum across the bathroom. It struck the sink in front of the mirror, a good four feet away from me. Five, six, seven times my penis let loose a string of semen fly. I slowed my hand as my convulsions ebbed, finally stopping and opening my eyes. I had made quite the mess all over the sink and floor. I moved to the toilet paper roll on the wall and laughed to myself, the image of Brad still fresh in my mind.

The evening passed without incident, and soon the next day came. Classes were still in session, but I noticed a distinct lack of male population. The girls were still around and gabby as usual, but some of them began to gossip about penises. I don’t know why, but something about “huge penises.” I shrugged it off and continued my day, sans men. It was odd, being the only guy on campus. Every class I went to, even the male instructors were absent. A little confused, I went about my day as usual. Finally, night came, and I went to bed.

The next day, I entered the math building like normal, and immediately noticed that the men had returned to the building. With a confused look on my face, I found my friend Michelle waiting for me on our couch. I sat down next to her and gave her an inquisitive look.


“Has anyone said anything about why every guy on campus was absent yesterday?” I asked her.

Michelle blushed, which was something I was not accustomed to seeing. I perked up an eyebrow in response, and she shook her head. ”I’ve only heard rumors,” she said.

“What kind of rumors?”

Michelle leaned in and whispered her answer. ”I heard that all the guys suddenly woke up with gigantic penises yesterday morning. They were so scared because the change was overnight, that they all scheduled doctor’s appointments.”

I jerked back at the words “gigantic penes.” So that was what all those gabby gossip girls were going on about yesterday? I looked over and spotted Matthew, one of the other math majors. His face was beet red, and he was talking to a bunch of other guys, most of whom shared his face’s hue. Curious, my eyes wandered down to his pants. He was wearing wind pants. In fact, every guy in the circle was wearing wind pants or really long shirts.

One, however, was wearing jeans. His name was Lar. Lar was actually reputed within the math department as having a tiny penis. This was because he had a tendency to go after freshman girls, who would immediately laugh at him and tell horror stories to their girlfriends. So, while second hand information, it was well known that Lar wasn’t packing much at all.


I had to blink and rub my eyes, then look again. Lar’s jeans were bulging obscenely today, as if he’d taken a small cat and shoved it down his front. Two large lumps and an elongated bulge about six inches long traveled down his pant leg. Just one pant leg. His package was completely hanging loose, and it was obvious that he was freeballing that day.

Wait. Back up. Six inches? Isn’t that—

No way.

No fucking way.

I stared intently, analyzing that bulge as hard as I could. I took to undressing it with my mind. What would that bulge look like? A six-inch flaccid penis, with two hulking balls—why, that’d look just—like—

Oh fuck.

I stood up quickly, surprising Michelle, and immediately went home. This was too much. Every guy on campus randomly has six-inch flaccid penises? What happened overnight? Why does everyone suddenly have penises the size of my Brad fantasy? Why didn’t it happen to me?

It was time to test this theory—

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