Description Uncannily attractive and hunky teenager John is sent to the latest in a string of health professionals over his unusual condition: he’s always horny, and it affects his body in a very unusual and highly provocative manner.
|Updated||23 Feb 2018|
“Come in, please.”
He didn’t look nervous, which is a bit unusual for a first session. I noticed he was sweating, even though the temperature in the room was a relatively cool seventy-two degrees, so perhaps he was good at feigning comfort. He smiled at me and didn’t say anything, and as he passed next to me in the office doorway I could sense that he was hot.
I mean physically hot. That is, temperature-wise.
He was also just…hot.
I try not to see my patients in a sexual way, but with him that would be difficult no matter who you are or where your sexual appetites drive you. He was of average height, maybe 5’ 10”, and although his clothes seemed a couple of sizes too big for him (hand-me-downs, maybe?) it was clear that he had a lanky, athletic frame—maybe a track and field guy or a gymnast—under his large white button-down shirt and those ill-fitted jeans.
When I say he was hot, I mean that he was attractive, almost abnormally so. In the way that some people are so beautiful that you find yourself needing to look at them over and over to see if they were as beautiful as you thought they were.
And he was.
He had bright blue eyes and full lips. His face was sculpted with high cheekbones and an absurdly strong jawline. He crossed that line between masculine and feminine perfectly, from one angle he was all hard lines and strong features, and then his face would shift and his features were soft and elegant. Handsome, but also beautiful.
He was just…absurdly attractive.
I wondered if that was what he perceived of as his problem.
He stood in the center of my office, his posture erect and his head held high, and I said, “Please, have a seat.”
He nodded and wandered towards the large leather wingback, turning and plopping himself down in it, pausing to brush a stray lock of his blonde-chestnut hair from his azure eyes.
My god, this kid was beautiful. And as he sat down I got a clue as to why he might be here, because not only was he attractive but it was evident that he had been gifted with some rather prodigious and oversized sexual equipment.
As he adjusted his seat in the chair, he shifted his crotch forward and the reason for his very loose pants because abundantly clear to me.
He was, in the vernacular, packing major heat.
And I say ‘kid,’ because he’s only sixteen, barely old enough to start having the sort of problems that would bring us together. I wondered if he’d even had sex, yet—though, given the way he looked I expected that his problem was more likely that he couldn’t deal with the number of potential partners coming on to him.
“I’m Dr. Lawrence.”
“John,” he said, and he smiled. Dimples appeared on his cheeks. His voice was deeper than I had imagined.
“Have you ever had a therapist before, John?”
He shook his head. “Seen lots of doctors, though.” He was looking at me directly, not appearing at all shy or embarrassed. Normally, again, I expect a new patient to exhibit a much more wary demeanor.
“Medical doctors,” I said.
His pouty lips twisted into a sideways smirk. “Yeah. Like, endocrinologists, orthopedic surgeons, urologists and neurologists and…tons of doctors.”
He was clearly done with doctors. “Okay. Do you know who I am?”
“Of a sort. I’m a psychiatric therapist. I specialize in sex therapy.”
He lifted his chin and a light came into his eyes. “Sex? Therapy?”
“Yes. People who come to see me feel like they have problems of a sexual nature, and I help them. Sometimes couples, sometimes individuals. The problems may be physical and they need help adjusting, or the problems may be psychological.”
“Sounds like that disappoints you.”
“Kind of. I was hoping that you…never mind.”
“John, I’m not sure exactly why you’re here. You were referred by your HMO but the details in your file don’t really specify the reasons. That’s hardly unusual, because normally I need to…”
“I’m always horny.” He said it as if he were explaining that he had an itch, or he liked chocolate. Very matter-of-factly. Very blunt.
“I see. Young men often…”
“Like…always.” He settled his right hand onto his crotch, resting it on the length of that prominent and unavoidable bulge.
I decided to try to adopt his forthright attitude. “Are you horny right now?”
He nodded vigorously, squeezing himself slightly. “And I’m a big dick.”
“John, I’d ask that you not demean yourself, here or otherwise.”
“No, I mean…” He started to explain, and then seemed to think better of it. “Never mind.”
“Don’t censor yourself. Can you describe how you’re feeling in other terms?”
His pink bow of a mouth—those soft, full lips—twisted again. “No.”
His hand stopped moving on the thick length of his penis, which was now pressing intently against his zipper. “If I start to describe it I’ll just feel even hornier, and then….” He was evidently embarrassed by it. Probably had been teased at some point by classmates. Kids often make fun of girls who develop their breasts quickly, and I assume the same might happen to a young man with…John’s obvious gift.
I tried not to glare at it too much, but it was difficult not to. Even as a professional, what John owned in his shorts seemed like a record-breaker.
“This is a safe space, John. Nothing that happens here—nothing you say or do, nothing we share—leaves. I want you to understand that above all else. There are no judgments, no accusations, and no guilt. I’m here to help you in any way I can, but I need you to help me understand so I can do that.”
“How can I help you trust me, John? What can I do to help you get comfortable?”
His blue eyes narrowed and he sat back into the leather of the chair, leaving his hand covering his groin. “Comfortable?”
“Yes, I want you to feel at home, here.”
“Well, I mean, if I were really at home….”
“Yes, what’s that like?” I meant to open a dialog here about his family, because let’s face it, that’s usually the root of the problem. How one was brought up, how one might have found their feelings or desires suppressed. “What makes you comfortable when you’re feeling the most at ease?”
“Naked.” Again, he said it bluntly and without hesitation.
He smiled and nodded, glancing down at his groin. Then he shrugged and said it again. “Naked.”
“Do you mean that your family are nudists?”
He glanced up, meeting my gaze. “No. Just me.”
“Are you a nudist?”
Another shrug. “I just like being naked.”
“Okay. Well, let’s start there, why…?” He sat up again and began to unbutton his shirt. “John, I think we should approach these things a bit slowly.”
“You said I should get comfortable.” His skin was smooth and silky.
“Didn’t you mean it?”
I hadn’t meant it literally, but perhaps putting him in the environment where he felt most at ease was a step in the right direction. “I’m sorry. Please, if that makes you able to…”
He stood up, then and continued to remove his shirt, undoing each button with his large, elegant hands and then shrugging it off his body. As I suspected, he had a well-trained, athletic frame. He owned a defined six-pack on his slim, flat belly with a small navel perfectly positioned between the mounds of his muscles. He had a well-developed chest, particularly for someone so young, with two flat plates of pectoral sinew and two fairly large and prominent nipples. His arms were similarly developed, with distinct biceps and triceps, and his forearms were striated with muscle and veins. His flesh was smooth and milky, with soft tufts of underarm hair and some more soft curls along his forearms.
After tossing the shirt across the back of his chair, he pushed his shoes off his feet, leaving him barefoot, and he began to undo his belt and unzip his trousers.
I wasn’t initially feeling anything about seeing his penis. I’m not a medical doctor so it’s…unusual for me to deal with the physical attributes of my patients. John said he would feel more comfortable naked, and I want to allow my patients to have their feelings. This was evidently part of it, whatever the real reason was. Perhaps he was an exhibitionist. Perhaps he wanted to show me his body as a non-verbal way to express something else. It’s important not to judge, and to allow the patient to be honest and open.
But I have to admit, as soon as he opened the fly on his jeans and began to strip them off his body, I was…taken aback by what I saw.
There’s no other way to express this other than to say he was gifted. He was huge, and not just in length but in girth as well. John’s penis was, as I had suspected, of record-breaking proportions.
Even so, it was…perfect. Abnormally large, certainly, but otherwise as perfect as any penis I had ever seen. Perfectly formed, almost like someone had taken a penis off of a much, much larger man and attached it to his body. And that formidable size extended to his testes as well, which were two hen’s eggs hanging in a low, loose scrotum.
He seemed to sigh with relief once he was fully naked and as he tossed the jeans on top of his shirt and I observed him now in the altogether, I was struck again by his innate and overwhelming beauty.
Everything about this young man was attractive, almost absurdly so. Any modeling agency would jump at signing him (though one imagines that enfolding that massive length inside a small bathing suit might limit his runway abilities—or perhaps they’d enhance them!) and as he moved now, the stretch and flex of the muscles lining his limbs had a sensual, athletic quality that I was frankly feeling in my own masculine equipment.
I had never been so initially and overwhelmingly attracted to another person like this.
He turned around and smiled before flopping his muscular frame back in the wingback and hiking one leg over the chair arm, opening up his well-equipped crotch and allowing his balls and cock to jut forward towards me. He was un-cut, with a tight foreskin that covered most of his large helmet, allowing the supple, small mouth of his penis to show like a tiny sideways smile. It looked very like a large, pink snake was emerging from his groin and looking at me.
He set his hand back on his equipment and squeezed himself with an easy familiarity, then looked up at me and smiled.
“Is that better?” I asked.
“Much,” he said. His voice sounded smoky and gruff, and he seemed now to be rather more comfortable in his surroundings, just as he had explained.
“Can you tell me why being naked helps you feel more comfortable?”
“It’s not the naked part so much as the lack of clothes part.”
“I’m not sure I understand the distinction.”
“Is that why—pardon me but I couldn’t help noticing that they seem rather large for your body.”
He shrugged. “Sort of.”
“And does this help with your horniness?”
“Nothing helps with that. I’m just always…horny.” He gazed up at me again and smiled. He turned his hand over and stroked the full length of his penis with the back of his hand, then cupped his palm over the fat head of it and squeezed himself gently.
“Most teenagers feel that way,” I explained. “Your hormones are flooding your system, testosterone is….”
“I know all the medical stuff,” he said. Again, the depth and tone of his voice was striking. If I closed my eyes I would’ve thought I was speaking to a much larger adult man, not a sixteen-year-old just starting to understand his sexual desires.
“Okay. Um.” I was more than a bit distracted now, not just by John’s nudity but by his overall physical beauty, his overtly sexual nature, and the size of his equipment. I was trying very hard to maintain my composure and try to keep eye contact with him, but I found my gaze drifting across his lithe, athletic body, his well-defined muscles, his silken smooth skin, and that amazing length of fat cock pointed at me.
“Are you all right?” he asked. His voice drew my attention back to his face, his gorgeous handsome-beautiful face. Did he know his effect on me? Was he doing all this on purpose? Maybe that was why he was here, an ego-driven drive for attention, though it seemed absurd that he would go to such extents on our first session.
He leaned up from his seat, his abs popping and swelling, his cock pushing itself further towards me. “Are you sure? You look a little bit hot.”
“I’d rather talk about you, John. Can you help me understand why you’re here?”
“Like I said, I’m a big dick.”
“I really do insist that you refrain from demeaning yoursel…”
“No, I mean, literally, I’m a dick.”
My brow furrowed. “I still don’t understand.”
“I can show you, but….”
He looked down at his penis, stroking himself again and cupping the fat helmet in his hand. “Once I start I have to finish.”
“I should just show you. It’s easier that way.”
“If it’s easier, then by all means.”
“After it happens, you may not be able to control yourself.” He smiled, clearly relishing the feeling of being in charge.
“Let me worry about my own reactions, John.” I was a trained therapist. I had seen a lot of…unusual things.
“Okay. You asked for it.” He stood up. Then he looked up. “How high is the ceiling?”
I looked up too, since I had no idea. “Eight or nine feet,” I estimated.
“Okay,” he said. Then he took his penis in both hands and began to stroke himself. The results were immediate and initially astounding—but they were nothing compared to what would happen next.
“Everybody freaks out the first time, so don’t worry about that,” he said, as he continued to carefully, lovingly stroke his penis and look at me. “And don’t worry about me, this doesn’t hurt at all.”
“All right,” I said. As expected, once he began to pleasure himself, I could see blood flooding into his penis, but its reaction was difficult to believe. He was already eight or nine inches long, and fairly thick, but I watched with unbridled fascination and a bit of envy as his penis began to rise and swell in concert, the veins along its lengthy neck popping out as the skin grew tighter and tighter.
He closed his eyes and groaned, obviously sinking into the erotic pleasure his strokes were delivering. I was fully engaged watching the size of his penis increase and did not, at first, recognize another and wholly unexpected physical result that was occurring simultaneously
“This always feels…” I looked at his face as he spoke, which drew my gaze across his body. “…so good.”
I declined to speak, allowing him to experience whatever it was that he was feeling, wanting to understand why he was in my office.
His body appeared flushed. His pale skin was now red and seemed to stretch tighter against the well-defined muscles beneath. I could begin to make out the fibers and cables of John’s muscles, and then blood veins appeared and wound up from his groin, over his six-pack and further up his body. They were also now traversing downward, along his thighs.
“Aw, fuck,” he said softly. “Feels so good.”
I found my breathing growing slow and concentrated as I watched what was obviously a very deep sense of sexual pleasure overwhelm the naked young man standing in my office. His penis was still arching its long neck, still rising and throbbing as his heart pushed more and more blood into it.
“Fuuuuuuck,” he said, his head tilting slightly. The veins along his naked skin were stretching their fingers over his chest and down his arms. His whole body was now red and flushed and he licked his lips and sighed with a catch in his throat, and then another deep, sensual groan of absolute bliss left his chest.
He caressed himself with long, slow strokes, lifting his hands to his mouth and coating the palms of his hands with spit to aid his ongoing masturbatory pleasure.
His cock had yet to reach its zenith and continued to throb and swell when I noticed something else happening, and I stood up slowly in disbelief and awe, trying to discern if my eyes were somehow deceiving me.
I noticed it first along his shoulders, and then his chest and arms. My eyes started to dance everywhere on his naked body, now extremely vascular with winding rivers of veins. His shoulders were…inflating. I could see them rising, the distinct lobes of his delts becoming even more distinct as they…grew.
His chest was swelling forward. And then I noticed that his head was…rising! He was actually, physically growing tallerHe moaned and I looked again at his face and he bit his bottom lip and twisted his head on his neck—his thicker, more muscular neck—and he stretched his shoulders and chest and I saw that his upper arms were growing thicker, as well. I could see—literally see his biceps and triceps swelling like bread in an oven, and I looked down and his penis was still swelling, too.
He licked his hands again, pulling them away from his magnificent, massive prick and it was throbbing with hard pulses, and only then did I realize that with every throb, his body was swelling as well.
His whole body was growing, rising, swelling. The strange heat I felt as he passed me was now, I realized, like a furnace in the room. He replaced both hands to his erection and continued to stroke himself, and as he did so his rate of growth increased noticeably. I felt hotter, everywhere, but especially my face and my nipples and my own penis, which was now throbbing hard and growing stiff.
His head was rising higher and higher. His shoulders spread wider. The muscles lining his arms and legs swelled with increasing size and definition.
This went on for ten or fifteen minutes, as his overall size continued to expand in all directions until his cock at last achieved its full extents, a massive tower easily over a foot long, but his body had swelled in unison and his head was now nearly brushing the ceiling of my office.
He opened his eyes and blew air though his pursed lips, dropping his hands slowly to his sides and straightening fully.
John was transformed.
He retained his beautiful/handsome face, but now it looked like someone had taken his head and placed it on an entirely different body.
Looking at him, he seemed to be slightly and continually pulsing. Veins traveled everywhere over his body, like rivers over mountains, and those mountains were made of pure muscle.
All his muscles had swollen two or three times their initial size, and he was easily a whole foot taller, and maybe even more.
His cock was red and shiny, the skin stretched to its limit over its new, massive size—but the same could be said for his whole body. He slowly stretched his frame, tilting to the left and the right, stretching his newly developed muscles. Then he folded his arms over his huge chest, pressing the massive pectoral globes against each other, and smiled.
“Fuck,” he said, his deep voice now a match for the display of masculine power displayed before me, “that feels so much better.”
His huge cock was still throbbing with clockwork efficiency, an overt and sexual display of his obvious erotic arousal. It seemed like a pendulum for the rest of his newly engorged form. His skin was sleek and almost shiny, but more silken than the flesh so tightly wrapped around his monstrous erection, but I could see all his muscles in stark relief, each one plumped to its fullest, engorged with power. I could see cables and fibers stretching across every inch of his naked frame in fat lobes and balls and wedges, with thick veins winding over all of it.
He stood before me now and I probably looked like a deer caught in headlights. Nothing could have prepared me for this.
He laughed gently, a deep rumble from inside his massive chest, and I watched his dick bob and his balls plump. “You okay?” he asked.
He nodded. “I know. Happens to everyone when they see everything start swelling.” He looked down at himself. “Surprised the fuck out of me the first time it happened.”
He shrugged and I watched his massive shoulders bunch and flex and his traps rise towards his ears and his thick neck bulge. “Doctors tell me that I have erectile tissue that extends everywhere. It’s the stuff…”
“I know what it is,” I answered softly, with disbelief.
“Yeah, so, when I get hard I get…” He lowered his arms and held them out, gazing along every inch of his newly developed muscle, looking as if he had just come from the world’s toughest workout at the gym. “I get hard all over.”
He lowered his hands and I watched him flexing them into fists, slowly tightening and releasing, and each time it made the stark collection of muscle lining his arms flex and twist beneath his paper-thin skin.
He licked his lips and pulled in a slow, long breath. The muscles stretched along his pectorals swelled and flexed, pushing his fat, large nipples towards the floor. “Also my heart is larger than average, so it can push all the blood it needs to into a much larger area. My bones don’t stretch, obviously, but the tendons do? Or something? Anyway that also makes me…really flexible. And…some other stuff. I forget most of it.”
His erection then…flexed. That’s the only word for it. I could see it swell and bulge almost exactly as if….
He caught my surprised gaze, no doubt and reached dow, moving the back of his hand against the glossy surface of his hard-on and said, “Yeah, so, also I’ve got muscles in my dick. So, like how the rest of me acts like my cock? My cocks acts like…the rest of me.”
He illustrated his point by causing his penis to flex again, though this time it wasn’t unintentional. It curved itself and caused the muscles along its length to bulge and swell, making the skin even shinier as he caused his cock to…flex. “It’s kinda weird, I admit. I mean, I thought every guy could do this.”
He then made his cock…move. He pointed it towards me—evidently with some effort, fighting against its desire to remain upright—but he did so without using his hands. The tip of his prick lowered and the shaft bulged with muscle and he pointed himself at me.
It was only then that I noted that John seemed to be using care not to touch himself. That made me wonder if….
“Your body. Is it…like a penis in every way?”
“What, like do I come out of the top of my head?” He laughed warmly. “I wish!”
“No, I meant, the penis is generally one the most sensitive areas of the body, along with your fingertips and your tongue. The glans—the…head, the underside of the shaft, the upper portion of the head, the foreskin….”
“Oh! Fuck, yeah! You wouldn’t believe how much I know about dicks. Or probably you would.” He smiled brightly. Jesus, he was handsome. “But when I said I’m a dick I meant it literally. I’ve got super-sensitive parts all over my body, sometimes in I guess weird places. My butt is pretty sensitive—like, my whole ass—and my nips, which I guess isn’t so weird. And also under my arms and behind my knees, for some reason. Fingertips, like you said. But, like, I can just rub my fingers together and get hard, if I want to. But, you know, there’s compensations for that and I’ve learned to sort of adjust to it.”
“How does one adjust to the entire body being as sensitive as a penis?”
He tilted his handsome face and his eyebrows arched over his deeply blue eyes. “Can you just say cock or dick or something? Penis sounds weird. I mean, I know that’s what it’s called but…”
“Which do you prefer?”
“Anything but penis. And these,” he said, moving his prick aside—again without touching himself, “are my balls. They’re not testes. They’re balls.”
I marveled at his control over his penis…his cock. “That’s amazing,” I said.
“Yeah,” he agreed, looking down, “these are some pretty low-hangers.”
“No, I meant how your cock works.”
“Oh! Yeah.” He shrugged again. “I don’t even think about it. Well, I mean, I think about it all the times but, like, people always seemed freaked out by that the most, even though….” He lifted up his arms and tensed his muscles into full bloom, swelling them hard and huge, driving all his muscles into sharp relief. “I mean, look at all this!”
But it was true. The idea of a dick he could control at will was…enthralling. I looked down at it, jutting outward so forcefully. “What can you do with it?”
He laughed. “What do you mean?”
“Does it just move around like that or…?”
“Oh! Oh, no. It’s pretty handy, I gotta admit, especially considering how big it is. So, I mean, it’s called a boner but there’s no bones, right? So I can do this,” he said, and I watched his cock stretch itself forward even longer, growing thinner in the process, “or this,” and then his prick grew incredibly fat, “and this.” Then his prick tied itself into a knot, curling its neck around and pushing its head through the resulting hole where he made himself flex and swell.
Then he…untied himself and seemingly released his control over his cock, allowing it once again to throb upwards and push its glistening head towards the deep indent between his pectoral globes.
“Mind if I sit back down?” he asked. “Kinda getting super turned-on what with all this dick-play.”
It seemed like such a weird, commonplace question after what I had been witnessing, but I simply nodded and took a seat, myself.
He sat down in the leather chair again, hiking that one leg over the chair arm and stretching the other one forward. Even his feet looked larger. Then he was watching me as he easily and lingeringly petted his snake. It twisted and writhed in obvious bliss under his attention. A sudden guzzle of honey weeped from its mouth and he gathered it onto his palm and rubbed the ejaculate all over the swollen head.
“So,” he said, “that’s why I’m here.” He was rubbing the shaft and glans of his penis continually, almost like someone would caress a pet.
“Oh,” I said.
“Yeah, so, I mean, personally? I don’t think this is my problem.”
“Nope. Look at it from my perspective, Doc.” He looked up, “Can I call you Doc?”
“If you like.”
He smiled and licked his lips again. “Yeah, I like. Anyway, my whole body feels like a dick, or so I’m told. I mean, to me, it just feels like…me. And I guess if the other stuff—like, growing and swelling and stuff—if that didn’t happen, too, no one would give a shit.”
“But they do give a shit.”
He sighed and nodded. “Yeah. And also, the other thing.”
“I told you that once I start I have to finish.”
“Yeah, so…I kinda need to do that.”
“What do you mean?”
He gave me a perplexed look, grimacing and furrowing his brow. “What do you think I mean? What happens to you when you get a hard-on?”
“Oh,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said. “Oh.” His cock flexed hard, stretching and swelling, apparently displaying for me his eagerness for release. “I should explain the other other thing, which is that when I get going—not like…this…not just hard, but when I get going, it…affects people.”
“How does it affect people?”
“I think I’ll just let you experience it yourself. It’s just easier to show than to tell, right?” His stroked gained speed and effort, sliding his grip along every inch of his monstrous erection. “Don’t worry, dude, I won’t make a mess. I got this down to a fine science.” As he spoke, his cock continued flexing and moving, its actions growing more agitated. He looked up, and asked, “You wanna watch?”
“Only if it doesn’t embarrass or inhibit you.”
“Inhibit me?” He stretched his arms wide and bent his elbows, forcing his biceps into softballs and making his shoulders and traps harden and swell. “Dude, do I look like I have inhibitions?”
“Not particularly,” I admitted.
“Nah, I like it when someone is watching.” He tilted his head. “You can even come over here for a closer look, if you wanted to. You don’t have to stay behind your desk. I won’t bite.”
My own raging erection was unabated. “I’m fine here.”
“Got a hard-on dude?” I blushed. “Ah, dude, don’t be embarrassed. Happens all the fucking time.” He pulled in a slow, deep breath. “You smell it, dude?”
He lifted his arm and pushed his nostrils deep into the dank hairy pit, closed his eyes and drew in another deep breath. Then he stuck out what looked like an extraordinarily long tongue (making me wonder—was that like a dick, too?) and licked the sweat from his body. “Fuck dude, it’s like I’m leaking sex or something.” He looked sideways at me, his lips wet with his own sweaty juice. “You smell it?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Smells good, right?”
I nodded silently.
“Fuck yeah, I do.” He licked his biceps and closed his eyes, swallowing his own masculine tang. It made his cock swell and lengthen, the muscles inside his odd but beautiful erection tensing and flexing, almost undulating. He closed his eyes and licked his lips and his mouth fell slack as what I can only assume were powerful erotic pulses of sexual excitement radiated through his body.
He began to caress himself with his other hand, moving his palm all over his skin, lingering at certain points and gasping or groaning, and I realized that he was also now jerking off his…whole body. He was stroking his chest, his belly, his arm, his leg, moving his touch everywhere and then he took his other hand off his writing, pulsing hard-on and was loving himself everywhere, moving to reach every part of himself, spreading the sensation of sex everywhere he touched.
His cock remained hard and weeping a stream of pre-cum that drained down his long, thick shaft and glistened in his pubic bush. He was obviously in the throes of something strong and deep, like no sexual experience I had ever seen.
And that was when I felt it. Something…tugging…at me. Something like heat or wetness, like a warm front had entered the room, only instead of rain it was filled with sweat and cum, and John’s scent was strong within it, and it coated my skin—or felt like it, anyway—and my cock jumped in my shorts and pushed painfully against my crotch for release, both physical release and sexual release.
This went on for some minutes, and then he closed his eyes and moaned and I watch his erection plump and stiffen and he started pumping thick eruptions of cum all over his massive chest and cobblestone belly. His body jerked and his cock spasmed and he shoved several huge streams of cream that splattered on his skin.
And then he sat forward and opened his mouth.
His massive, magic cock aimed itself—or, more likely, he aimed his cock—at his open mouth and another fat, thick, lengthy eruption of sperm exploded from the gaping tip and shot inside his mouth, filling it nearly to overflowing.
I gasped at what I was watching.
He swallowed that load quickly and opened his mouth and shot another long ejaculation between his pouty lips, and swallowed that load as well. His long tongue stretched out to lick the droplets of pearlescent cream that drooled from his prick.
He grabbed his cock again and stroked himself and groaned and pushed another huge flood of cum out of his balls and up the fat inches of his massive prick and into his own mouth.
Then his cock was stretching itself longer, pulling itself thinner, arching itself between his lips and he was sucking on himself, his throat bulging and swelling as he continued pumping God knows how many pints of cream inside his mouth, his eyes rolling up in their sockets and groans of animalistic pleasure erupting from his chest.
I could see his cock pumping cum. I could see him swallowing load after load—even after the capacious flood he’d shoved all over his massive chest and rippled belly. His fingers gripped the arms of the chair and the muscles lining his arms bulged fiercely. I could only begin to imagine the depth of his current sexual bliss, erupting stream after stream of cum up the fat inches of his muscled cock and down his throat, as he gulped his own heavy load over and over, almost in constant ejaculation.
And then, almost as quickly as he had begun, his cock pulled itself from his mouth and fattened and shortened as it returned to its original mass, no longer stretching its own mouth into his. It was still pulsing with regular beats, pumped hard and full, but he seemed finished with the eruptions.
He was breathing hard now that his mouth was free of his prick, gulping air into his lungs as he came down from the sexual high he had given to himself. He licked his lips and opened his eyes and looked at me. He sighed and said, simply, “Better.”
I swallowed dryly and blinked. The room was still saturated with—him. His scent. His heat. His sex. His cock pulsed with hard, dull beats against his body, extending itself up from his groin with its head pushing towards his chest. It swam in the cooling load of cream that sat on his torso, perhaps warming it with its own heat.
But he was not growing limp.
“Does that happen frequently?”
He smiled and ran his fingers through the load on his skin, gathering up the sticky cream and pushing his fingers between his full lips, sucking them clean. “Not frequently enough,” he said gruffly, before gathering up more cum to pull inside his mouth.
He arched an eyebrow, his sticky fingers stuck inside his mouth.
“You’re still erect.”
He pulled his wet fingers from his mouth and furrowed his brow. “Remember what I said?”
“I’m always horny, dude. Always. Which part of that didn’t you get?”
“Wait, even after…?”
He nodded, and spoke each word distinctly. “I. Am. Always. Horny.” He licked his lips and wrapped his grip around his hard-on and scraped it clean of cum, licking the residue from his fingers. “Always.”
After our first session, I like to assign my patients homework. These are simple steps or tasks that help them understand their problems or fears, and to treat them as manageable. Often, people are so preoccupied with their perceived problems that they feel overwhelmed by them. Offering some simple tasks to recognize triggers or understand the source of their problem helps build a plan to manage or overcome them.
John told me his biggest problem was his libido. “I’m always horny,” he had stressed more than once, and that—in his mind, anyway—was the biggest obstacle in his life. Whether it was true was beside the point. It was what he identified as the thing that most troubled him, or at least as the thing that stood in the way of feeling emotionally healthy.
The homework I assigned was simple; John would keep a diary and record the things that made him horny. Being “always horny” was a hard thing to tackle, but if we could identify the things that seemed to drive his libido, we might start to understand how to control those feelings.
Again, whether he actually was horny all the time was not at issue. If he felt that he was, then he was, and even if there were physical or bodily reasons to account for it—a higher-than-normal rate of testosterone production, his diet could be feeding him certain amino acids that increase blood flow to all his erogenous zones, even the color red has been measured to have an effect—we needed to tackle the emotional aspects of his problem.
And it could be that he’s just a teenager, and teenagers are horny by nature.
He arrived a week later for his second appointment looking just like he did when he arrived for his first one—not yet in his fully aroused, fully-muscled, fully-erect state. But that changed almost as soon as he entered the office, perhaps sensing he was in a safe space again and allowed to be “himself.” He greeted me with a hug—a sign of trust—and I could again feel the innate heat of his body and only moments later he was again naked and swelling with size and muscle.
I had somehow forgotten what his metamorphosis looked like, and it was as mesmerizing and amazing the second time as it was the first. Watching his body inflate with muscle, watching his frame stretch—growing wider and taller in equal measure, just to accommodate all the added mass—was as erotic as it was impossible. But there he was, swelling like a giant cock, stroking himself with loving attention as his entire body became erect.
He had the diary I had given him for homework and he laid that on my desk as he sprawled his tall, wide, powerful frame in that same wingback chair, hiking one leg over an arm as his prick nearly sprang to attention, throbbing with deep, hard pulses and sending out that palpable sense of heat and his...energizing scent.
John sat naked in the chair opposite my desk, his gaze drifting back and forth between watching me watching him, and looking at the huge length of sex rising from his loins as he slowly and continuously stroked himself. It was a mesmerizing scene. His dick remained ramrod straight and visibly throbbing, drooling a slow, constant stream of honey as he leisurely and without any seeming shame or self-consciousness caressed and fondled himself, his grip changing occasionally to massage the entire length of his cock, or rubbing the head, or running his thumb along the ridge, as his muscular body pulsed in kind, the veins that appeared under his skin swelling with every beat of his heart.
He did, more and more, now that I considered him, look like a large cock, so smooth and pink, his skin ruddy and pumped. His scent was stronger than ever in the small room, which made the space seem like a sauna heated only by his overwhelming sexual capacity.
“Did you do the homework I assigned?” He nodded, watching his hand moving up and down his cock. “What did you discover?”
He didn’t look up. “Everything makes me horny, and writing it all down makes me even hornier.”
I picked up his diary and flipped it open. His handwriting was hard and angular, but also careful. He stayed within the lines and methodically crossed every t and dotted every i. And his writing was florid and sensual, describing not just what he saw or smelled or felt or tasted that made him feel aroused, but also the type of arousal and where he felt it keenly.
It did seem that nearly every part of his body was a pleasure receptor. Each of his senses was keen and amplified, so that when someone touched him, he described exactly how it made him feel, and his reaction to it. Which scents he liked, and what he saw that made his body-cock pulse and swell.
I only looked at a few pages—he had written down dozens of observations of sensual delight and filled pages with words and illustrations—but it seemed like I was holding in my hands a tome akin to some of the most erotic, sensual, sexual, and pornographic words and images set to paper.
The book was practically sweating in my hands. Sex was dripping from its pages as he described a girl’s neck, or a guy’s hands, or a flower, or a scent. He seemed to find something erotic in nearly every waking moment, and in nearly everything his senses could encounter.
He really was always hornyMy own cock was plumping and throbbing hard once again as I read his words, and when I finally looked up John was watching me and smiling, his strokes along the length of his monster erection slow and precise and focused, as if he could feel my arousal as well as his own and was passing that understanding into his prick through his spit-slicked grip.
“Do you know what a super-taster is, John?”
“I can guess,” he said softly. His voice was low and gruff.
“Super-tasters have receptors on their tongue that allow them to perceive and understand flavors that most of us don’t. Similarly, there are super-smellers employed by perfumeries who can distinguish minute difference in scents. Based on the few pages I’ve looked at, it would seem you’re a super…everything. Your senses are picking up small, sometimes infinitesimally small characteristics and aspects in everything you encounter, and you’re interpreting them all as being attractive and erotic.”
“Uh huh,” he said, rubbing his palm over the swollen tip of his hard-on.
“It’s quite remarkable, and would account for the sensation of always feeling stimulated.”
“Uh huh,” he said again. He licked his lips and pulled in a slow, deep breath.
“How do you feel right now?”
“Horny as fuck.”
“Any idea why?”
“You smell amazing.”
“Scent is one of the most powerful senses.”
“You’re telling me.” He closed his eyes and took another deep breath.
“Do I smell different today than yesterday?”
“You smell different now than a few minutes ago.”
“You smell like sex.”
I realized that a few minutes ago I hadn’t been reading his diary, and now my cock was throbbing hotly in my shorts and my own libido was rising. “That’s interesting,” I said. “Can you describe it to me in words?”
“You smell…sexy. Like…sex.” He closed his eyes and ran his hand the length of his shiny, throbbing, drooling cock and sucked in another deep breath of…me.
I realized then also that as he was growing more aroused, so was I. The heat in the room, that sense of sex and stimulation and eroticism was swelling like his dick, and so was I. My cock was rock-hard, almost painfully so. Was it another physical manifestation that John produced?
“When did you realize that…?”
He looked up. “That I was like a giant prick?” He continued stroking his meat as he spoke. “Well, the first time it happened—the first time I grew—I was just lying in bed doing this,” he said, nodding at his hand slowly pleasuring himself, “and obviously I could feel myself doing something. But nobody ever really talks about jerking off, you know? When you’re that young, and I was maybe nine.”
“Very young, then.”
He nodded and shrugged. “I guess. Anyway, I mean, you’re a dude, you know how it is. After I discovered what my dick could do when I rubbed it, I was doing it all the time. Not, like, all the time. I wasn’t sitting at my desk in school and, like, jerking off. But I’d go to the bathroom and stroke it, and I wasn’t getting as big as I am now, of course. I was littler then and I wasn’t working out or anything. More like I was just sort of swelling, getting tighter in my clothes.”
“How did you deal with it?”
He shrugged again. “Nothing much to deal with back then. It wasn’t until I was, like, twelve? Or thirteen, more like. That was when I started working out more, because I was on the football team and doing gymnastics. Didn’t know about the tendon stuff back then, but like I said I get really flexible so a lot of that stuff was easy, and then I started working out and that was when things got crazy.”
“Well, so, I guess I’m kinda just flooded with androgen. You know what that is?”
“It’s a steroid hormone. Men usually have it as testosterone and women as estrogen.”
“Right. So, like, you know what it does, right? If you’re low on it, you can have little balls and little dick and your muscles don’t grow or something. But I had the opposite thing, so my balls are…you know.” He moved his hand down his prick and cupped his balls in his hand. They were huge, each as large as a plum. “I mean, these bad boys are flooding me with it all the time, and having too much is just as bad as not having enough, but in my case there was a reason for it.”
“You said androgen.”
“Yeah, so, you know guys need estrogen too. Just not as much as girls. In guys, estrogen accelerates metabolism, makes spermies, adds to a healthy libido, all kinds of stuff, and I’m getting pumped full of that, too. So when I started at the gym, my body kind of…really liked it. But because of the erectile tissue all over me, and how it works, I was getting stronger and bigger but it’s when I’m, like, bigger-bigger that it all shows up.”
He nodded and bent his arm and pushed his muscles into power. The cables and fibers pressed against his skin and I caught a fresh whiff of his scent as he opened his underarm towards me.
“You say you’re always horny and if that’s true I would expect you to always look like you are now.”
“Are you always hard when you’re horny?”
“Same here. And if I could I’d look like this all the time, only it’s kind of weird to most people so I try to rein it in, most times.”
“You said at first you didn’t get this big.” He nodded. “Are you getting bigger as you get older?”
“Of course. I mean, tall-wise. The muscles are all from working out. Which I fucking love.”
I was curious. “Does your strength increase as the size of your muscles grow?”
“Yeah, of course. I mean, they’re bigger aren’t they?”
“I’m considering how muscle works, which is normally due to density and size, but in your case the size increase isn’t strictly due to muscle increase.” He shrugged. “How much stronger are you now?”
He shrugged again. “Dunno. Never, like, measured it.”
“When you work out, are you smaller or bigger?”
He smiled. “Depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“Depends on who’s around.”
Something else occurred to me so I asked, “Do you have a girlfriend?”
He shook his head and continued stroking his drooling python.
He smiled and shook his head again.
“Have you had sex?”
His gaze shifted to my face and he sort of pouted and slowly shook his head a third time.
“You’re a virgin?”
“I haven’t made love to anyone. I mean, I make out. Kissing and stuff. But then I start swelling up and they get sort of freaked out, so….”
“That’s interesting,” I said.
“Is it?” He was looking at me intently as he jerked himself off. “It’s just easier getting myself off, I guess. I mean, dudes don’t normally blast as much cum as I do. Or so I’m told. Not a lot of opportunities to, you know, get off with someone else.”
“But someone has seen you get off?”
“Oh, sure. One time in the showers after P.E. I was shooting my load—I was all worked up, right? Sweaty from the workout, smelling my funk, my balls were heavy, my load was thick and hot, my dick was screaming like a missile. So I jerked off in there—I thought I was alone and then this other guy came in, Charlie—and so I came and, like, Charlie was all, like, his eyes were bugging out and…”
“Charlie had already seen you grow?”
He nodded. “Oh, yeah, Charlie’s cool. So, anyway I blow my load, I’m doing what I do, y’know, pumping it out like an ice cream machine, splattering it all over the place, it felt so good, y’know? The hot water and being naked and feeling myself just pumping over and over and I didn’t hear him come in or anything and only when I turned around, and I see him standing there and he’s got a woody, too, and his eyes are big and he’s, like, stroking himself watching me.”
“He was aroused watching you?”
“I guess so. I mean…aren’t you?”
I dodged the question. “Go on.”
“So, he’s like, ‘I’ve never seen someone come so much!’ and I kind of shrug or whatever, because that’s how I always come, right? And how do I know what other dudes do? It doesn’t come up over burgers or whatever, like, ‘hey, how much do you come?’“
“I suppose not.”
“So we started making out and then he was stroking me, stroking my skin, stroking my cock, and I started coming again and I was sort of, like, shoving a huge load all over him, all over me, I mean, he got me super turned-on and like I said, once I get started I have to finish.”
“Was he aware of what he was doing?”
“What, kissing me?”
“Did he know of your circumstances, that your entire body is sensitive?”
“Well, I mean, I didn’t say anything like that. He just started, like, rubbing me and stuff and we were standing in the showers so it was all hot and steamy, anyway, and my skin was wet and I was, you know, like I am now. Hard and everything.” He shrugged. “It felt good. Why wouldn’t I want him to do it?”
“Does that happen often?”
“Sure, I come a few times every….”
“No, I mean, when you’re with someone, do they engage with you?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes. Sometimes not. Mostly, I guess. But I try to be kind of careful about it. It’s safer when I’m alone.”
“But with Charlie you let it happen.”
“He wanted to. It felt good.”
“And when you were coming on him?”
John’s face lit up. “He fucking loved it! He was egging me on, jerking me off, watching my dick explode.”
“Did he swallow any?”
“Nah. Well, I mean, probably some. Accidentally. I was pumping that shit everywhere.”
“And has that sort of experience happened with anyone else?”
“Not…like that, exactly. But other stuff. A few times.”
“But never actual sex.”
He turned his gaze back to his prick. “Yeah, so, anyway. I haven’t…had the opportunity.”
“To have sex with someone.” He shook his shaggy head. “Do you want to?” He shrugged. “Does it scare you?” He shrugged again. “I don’t mean to judge, John, but you seem otherwise quite sexually active and at ease with yourself. One would think that just out of curiosity you would have experienced sex by now.”
“I want to make love with someone,” he said, slowly. I marked his use of words—’make love’ instead of ‘fuck.’ “I guess I want it to be….”
“To be what?”
“Special or something.” His whole body turned red, and I realized he was blushing. It was hard to remember sometimes that he was still only sixteen. I realized that even though he looked like a musclebound man filled with machismo, he was tenderhearted and maybe a bit shy, regardless of his feelings regarding overt nudity.
I decided to pursue that avenue and see what it yielded. “That’s a very mature attitude to adopt, John. One’s first sexual experience is one of the strongest memories we take with us, and it can color how we feel about ourselves and others for a long time.”
He looked at me. “What was your first time like?”
I hadn’t expected that question, though I suppose I should have, having opened this can of worms. “To be honest, it was quite awkward and a little bit frightening.”
His head tilted and his soft, full lips parted. “Like how?”
I thought back and wondered how honest I should be with John, and whether my experience would be helpful. “I was struggling with my sexuality when I was your age. And younger. I had feelings for men, desires for other men, and I felt that this was wrong, and hoped that it would pass. That maybe if I found the right woman I could…fix myself.”
I shook me head. “There was nothing to fix. I’m a gay man, but where I grew up, surrounded with the opinion that such things are wrong, I tried to adjust and conform.”
“So your first time was with another dude?”
“No, it was with a girl. And it was the fact that I didn’t enjoy it—that it felt forced and awkward—that I knew who I was.”
“And it was frightening?”
I needed to be careful, here. “Sex can be a lot of things. At its core, it is an intimacy like nothing else. You are…opening yourself to someone else, showing them yourself in a unique and personal way. That can be scary, to expose yourself to someone else.” He looked dubious and frightened himself, so I quickly added, “But it is also wonderful and beautiful and even spiritual, in a way. Sometimes you’re with someone and everything just works, you have an unspoken bond with them, you find your way to a place of freedom and understanding and…well…when it’s good, when it works, there is no other feeling like it.”
“Love is important, but love is different. You can have sex without love, and love without sex.”
He drew his gaze away from my face and arched an eyebrow. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Not at the moment.”
“But you had one?”
“A few, in fact.”
“And making love with them was good?” His blue gaze flickered up to meet mine.
“It was frequently amazing, to be honest.”
His chin lifted and he looked at me more directly. “What’s it like?”
“Amazing sex?” He nodded, even as he continued stroking his dick. It was, I admit, a bit odd to be speaking of my own sexual history as he jerked off in front of me, but my hope was that my own honesty would increase his trust in me. “It takes time, usually. It’s rare that you can meet someone and go to bed with them and it’s great the first time. It happens, but it’s rare.”
“But…what’s it like?”
“It’s different for different people. Which is I guess why I have a job.”
He was looking at his dick as he paused in his strokes, now grasping it by its neck and rubbing the helmet, spreading the warm pre he was leaking all over the swollen head, making it glisten. “What about…butt stuff?”
“What about it?”
He looked up at me. “Do you like it?”
“Yes, but not everyone enjoys it. Some people find it….”
“Does it feel good?”
“Most of the time, for me, it does. Sometimes it doesn’t.”
“But isn’t it…gross?”
“I’m not sure how much of the engineering aspects of sex are going to help you, John.” I noticed that his hand was moving under his balls, and he was hiking his leg higher on the chair’s arm. “Are you curious about anal sex?”
He shrugged. “I mean, I guess.”
“May I ask why?” He shrugged. “It’s not something you have to do. When it comes to sex, you have complete control over what you want to do with your own body—or what you don’t want to do.” I was now wondering if he was struggling with his own sexuality and desires. After all, if he were showing curiosity and interest in anal sex, it was obviously something that interested him. “Have you explored this on your own?”
“What? No! Gross!”
“Before you…plunge in, as it were, doing some exploration on your own might help clarify for you if it’s something you want to explore further.”
“Or deeper,” he said, laughing gently. “What do you…what do I do?”
“It’s probably self-evident. You start carefully, and gently. Inside your anus—the tight entrance—is the rectum, which is about five inches long. Your anus is going to resist penetration naturally, so….”
“Can you…show me?”
“I don’t have any illustrations handy, I’m afraid.”
“No, I mean…” He moved his leg higher and pushed his butt forward on the seat. His huge balls were covering his butt hole, but he pivoted his pelvis and moved himself to the edge of the chair, exposing a smooth, clean crack and his tight, rosy hole. “…show me.”
“I don’t generally encourage my patients to.…”
He moved his hand under his scrotum and pushed the tip of his middle finger against the pucker, rubbing himself gently. “What do I do?”
I swallowed dryly. “Does that feel nice?”
He was meeting my gaze directly. “Uh huh.”
“Do you want to continue?”
“Push against yourself. Just gently. Not to penetrate. Your natural reaction will be to….” His finger disappeared inside him to the second knuckle. He didn’t appear to grimace or feel discomfort. “Still okay?”
“What does it feel like?”
“Soft,” he said. “Hot.”
“Your rectum is hollow, between five and eight inches long. Your sphincter may be gripping your finger and….” He nudged his index finger inside as well, now pushed inside him to the third knuckle. “Uhhh, okay. Men generally get the most pleasure from applying pressure to the prostate.”
He twisted his head back on his neck, and a soft, low groan emerged from his throat.
“You seem to have located it.”
He nodded slowly.
“Does it feel good?”
“Your balls produce sperm. The sperm travel through the prostate before ejaculation. When you’re pre-cumming, that’s the secretions of the prostate, so when you’re….”
“You’re really trying to cool my jets, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Sorry,” I said.
“Oh shit, why didn’t anyone tell me about this before?” He was really in there, now, with three fingers inside his ass as he pushed against his own prostate and groaned.
His muscular prick was weeping a stream of pre, and writhing and twisting in glorious pleasure. And knowing now how his dick worked, and his control of it, a thought occurred to me, a ludicrous impossible thought.
Could John literally fuck himself?
But then, almost before I finished my thought, John had gripped his cock with his free hand and was guiding the tip under his balls toward his hole.
He was going to do it! He was actually going to try to fuck himselfHe lifted his other leg onto the other arm of the chair, shoving his butt towards me and opening himself to his own erotic penetration. His cock began to stretch, drawing its fat, engorged neck thinner as he withdrew his fingers and pushed his own prick towards his hole.
The tip of his cock was drooling pre and he painted a glistening trail over his butt as he tried to blindly guide himself inside. Then he moved his hand along the writhing neck of his cock and found the head and fed his dick into his own ass.
Once he had managed to penetrate himself, I watched his muscular prick flex and swell as he pushed himself inside deeper and deeper, and I think I stopped breathing as I watched this progression.
Then his cock was…pulsing. He was doing it! He was fucking himself, pushing his muscled cock against his own prostate over and over, and his mouth fell slack and his eyes rolled up and that heat increased, a powerfully sexual invisible fog shoving itself at me as he fucked himself in front of me.
His whole body shook and shifted, he gasped and groaned and his breath caught, and he was again gripping the arms of the chair hard in his grasp as his dick visibly slid in and out of his asshole, and then it pulled itself free and he was licking his hands and sliding them all over his cock, slicking up the surface before pushing himself back inside himself and going to town.
If I thought this young man was in the throes of some sexual supernova before, it was nothing compared with what I was witnessing now. He had effectively doubled down on his own erotic abilities, now experiencing the sensation of fucking—and being fucked at the same time, and all on his own.
His breath grew ragged and stuttering and I realized he was coming again, erupting fat streams of cum inside his own ass, painting his guts with cream. It was evidently another huge load and I watched it begin to squirt and drool from his hole as his fucking continued non-stop, plunging his erupting cock inside his own ass again and again.
He was now writhing and jerking and spasming with hard erotic shocks as his cock pumped out his load and he fucked himself, pushing himself past some human level of erotic bliss and discovering something probably no other person had ever managed.
“John,” I said, softly.
His knuckles were white as he grasped the chair’s arms, All his stark muscles were tense and hard, bulging out and swollen with power. His balls looked…inflated. Fatter than usual, but that was likely due to his scrotum losing some elasticity. His cock was shoving itself inside his hole again and again, with every hard thrust echoed in John’s writhing or jerking, his whole body shaking with some intense erotic stimulation.
“John.” I repeated it more forcefully.
He continued fucking and coming, the white sticky sex dripping and now gushing as a result of every hard thrust of his prick. His whole body was shaking and writhing with intense sexual bliss.
“Holy fuck,” he managed to say, “holy fuck!”
“Are you all right?”
“Holy fuck, Doc. Holy fuck!” He was not stopping. His cock was shoving itself inside his ass and gushing fat fountains of cum.
I knew that, practically speaking, he had to run out of cum at some point. Although having seen his fat muscular dick pump fountains of cream all over his massive chest and then follow up by sucking down who knew how much more in our first session—and his balls were looking like balloons inflated with cum—I wondered how long he could keep this up.
He appeared lost in the throes of some insanely intense sexual experience. The room was saturated with that heat and scent that his naked body produced, heightened now and filling the space like an oven. He was squirming and shaking and spasming with absolute physical bliss, his entire body reacting to this unstoppable self-fuck.
I…had to unzip myself and pry my own rock-hard joint from my shorts. I had leaked a flood of pre all over the white cotton and my dick was pushing painfully for release, and as I could no longer withstand that intense sexual heat and smell radiating outward from the naked 16-year-old cock-body in front me fucking himself with his own pliable, muscular cock, I worked it free and looked down to watch myself swell and lengthen and it was throbbing and tingling and engorged with hot blood.
I watched myself throbbing and weeping a stream of pre and I had barely touched myself when I exploded cum all over my dress shirt and tie. My cock shoved an overwhelming flood of warm, sticky cream in a messy fountain and I gasped and swallowed and tensed up and shoved out another amazing load, all while John was groaning and sighing and writhing in absolute pleasure in front of me.
My hand was coated in cum and I stroked myself and coxed a third blast from my dick, a load so copious and violent that it struck my lips and face and I licked the salty tang of cum inside my mouth and came again, a fourth delivery almost as powerful and full as my first.
“Yeah,” I heard John say, and I looked up and he was looking at me. His cock was no longer shoving itself inside his ass, he held it now in his hand, a fat, lengthy stalk of sex shiny with ass juice and sweat and cum and spit, and he was stroking himself as he watched me come. “Do it, Doc.”
His cock stretched itself towards his full lips. “Show me.”
“Show me what you can do.” He leaned forward and kissed the drooling tip of his own dick.
Over and over.
Before my next session with John, I had to make a few…adjustments.
There are some conflicting views in the medical community concerning the diagnosis of “sex addiction,” or hypersexuality—the increased need or pressure for sexual gratification. My own views are that unless it is related to a biological condition, for example if one’s brain starts to oversupply the hormones that raise the libido, it doesn’t exist. Some people merely have a more active sex drive than others, and vice versa. And I had never heard of nor encountered any case where hypersexuality could be manifested by one person into another.
In other words, horniness isn’t communicative.
But it certainly felt like it was.
I went to see my own MD to have him check me out, just to see if I broke anything after the absolute cum-explosion I managed. It felt like that orgasm was being pulled out of me—like John had somehow reached over and wrapped his grip around my balls and squeezed, turning my equipment into a kind of turkey-baster filled with semen and he was gonna squirt it all out of me at onceI had never come so hard in my life! It was like experiencing an orgasm wrapped inside an orgasm topped with chocolate-coated orgasm sauce. I couldn’t not come. And once I started, it felt as though I wasn’t going to be able to stopAfterwards I felt worn out. I think I slept for fourteen hours that night and my balls were still humming like someone set a live wire to them for three days afterwards.
Not mention that I found my dick throbbing and swelling like I was back in high school myself. It made a few of my other sessions quite uncomfortable.
I had to replace that chair he was so fond of, too. He fucked himself so much and pumped so much cream from his own balls that he left a puddle of himself behind, not to mention that the poor thing smelled like the inside of someone’s well-fucked ass. He practically burned a hole in the cushion.
I went to IKEA and just got something comfortable and easily cleaned, figuring that if that was how things went on Session Two, where were we going to find ourselves in a month?
I gave John a second Diary to keep track of his arousal states, and I kept the first one to catch up on everything he’d written down during his first week of tracking his libido’s limitless needs.
I shouldn’t admit this, but John’s diary became any own wanking material every night. I just kept finding another passage that made me gasp in shock and arousal and made my dick swell like someone’s lips were applied to it.
Here, let me give you just one example of his prowess and erotic adventures. These are his words as he related just one of his experiences at school:
Was in Biology class and we were discussing sex, like that’s going to help me, and there’s a cross-section of a cock and balls on the front wall and if even that is getting me hard I figure I’m in serious trouble today.
You know what it feels like, right? You start to be aware of your cock, it feels tight and heavy, starts to throb, you reach down to adjust yourself, it feels hot against your hand, likes that you’re paying any attention to it, the head starts pushing hard against your jeans, it’s throbbing even harder than the rest now, and your butthole starts to join in.
But for me it doesn’t stop there. It just keeps going. It spreads, that feeling of tightness and throbbing and sensitivity, it spreads along my thighs and over my butt and up my stomach. I can feel myself start to stretch and that’s when I know I need to take care of this or things are going to turn embarrassing pretty fucking fast.
Like I told you, I’m not embarrassed by it, and I like people watching me, but it’s a distraction to say the least and no matter how often they see it happen some dopes freak out like it’s not something they’re dealing with—only, you know, not all over like me—and it’s just how your body reacts. No big deal, but whatever, I realize it’s time to raise my hand and ask to be excused again.
Anyway, cutting to the chase, as I’m making my way to the bathroom the feeling of me getting hard is increasing the rate at which I’m getting hard, which is kind of par for the course actually. When I start swelling, it’s like some switch got thrown and the more I swell the hornier I get and the hornier I get the more I swell, plus everything is starting to rub against something else, it all feels totally awesome and I can feel me start to pre—I feel it really distinctly, like this shining kind of vibrating feeling and then it sizzle up my cock and it’s like a mini-orgasm or something, like I’m priming the pumps and I know a big explosion is on its way.
So I’m trying to hurry and I get inside and I look in the mirror over the sinks and I can see how my arms are turning my shirt sleeves into sausage casings and my dick is like this giant swollen balloon in my jeans and I’m already getting taller and I start trying to get my clothes off before I rip my way out of them like the Hulk or something and then in walks this dude I’ve never seen before and he stops dead in the middle of unzipping and looks up at me, half-naked and expanding in every direction and I go, “Hey,” and he goes “Hey,” and by then I’m stripping my pants off and hauling my cock out and the fucking thing is going nuclear, oozing pre like it’s being squeezed out and I can smell myself good and strong now and you know that only makes things worse and I look at him and he’s like getting his own impressive hard-on looking at me.
So I start stroking and that amplifies everything and I really start growing now, I can feel my arms and my legs and my chest growing thicker and heavier and suddenly this little dude is like salivating or something and I raise my arm and make a muscle and he fucking slams into me and he’s licking my pit and rubbing his hands all over my skin and you know that fucking drives me wild and I can feel the load coming on strong now, I’m gonna blow any second and I say something like “Watch out” or something and he’s like in this other world just rubbing up against me and I pull his mouth to mine and shove my tongue inside and start blasting cum like some fucking fountain, like pumping and pumping, trying to kiss this dude’s mouth and aim my dick so my load lands in the sink but I’m still growing bigger even as I’m shoving cum out of my balls and it’s so fucking hot.
I’m like painting him with cum now, just pumping over and over as he strokes and we kiss and I’m holding my dick and feeling it swell and throb and I start to think this isn’t going to stop because it just keeps getting hotter and hotter and now finally I’m fully grown, everything is swollen and hard and I pull him to me and my dick is between us just exploding with cum and holy fuck it was amazing!!
Sometimes I turn myself on. You know what that’s like, Doc? When you’re naked and looking at yourself in the mirror and that dude in the mirror makes you hard? Only in my case, of course, when I get turned on my whole body starts growing.
And when that happens it’s like a kind of circle that closes on itself, or something. As I start growing, I start to stroke myself, and that feeling is so intense, and it gets stronger and stronger as I grow bigger and bigger.
I watch myself in the mirror, Doc, and my dick is visibly throbbing and swelling and getting longer and longer. I can see my muscles swelling up under the skin, I’m growing taller as I get bigger and my dick keeps getting bigger and bigger, and I’m almost afraid to tough it, like if I do I’m going to explode and I want this feeling to go on and on, I want to feel like this, my whole body swelling and throbbing and twitching with the feeling of sex and I rub my nips and I slap my ass and caress my chest and keep growing and growing and now my whole cock is red and shiny and throbbing in time with my heart, and the head has bloomed and the little mouth of my huge dick is drooling that clear honey and now I can hardly breathe, I’m so close, I’m so so close, and I haven’t even touched my dick and I can feel it all hot against me and finally I grab it and fucking explodeLike, I can’t stop it! It’s like my balls are being squeezed and all the cum is being shoved up my dick and I can feel it! I can feel my cum shooting up every inch of my prick and then I look down and it comes out like a fountain, like a hydrant, like a volcano, and I pump out fat streams of cum over and over and it splatters on me all hot and wet and it feels so good, Doc, it feels so, so good
And there’s pages and pages of that stuff. John is like some super cum factory and he’s getting off a half-dozen times a day. I’ve never heard of anything like thisI was looking forward to his next visit maybe more than I should have been. I was here to help him, but my body was aching for that feeling again, that amazing sexual sensation that I had never experienced before and hadn’t managed to recapture since.
He was in my head. Nearly all the time. Even when I was with other patients I would think of his suddenly, his face or his body or his dick, the view of him fucking himself, looking at me and telling me to come.
Do you know about obsession? It’s another psychological term, but its depth varies. When you’re truly obsessed, you’re preoccupied with something constantly. Not frequently, but constantly. I wasn’t there…yet. But I could see myself becoming obsessed with John, with John’s face and body, with his overwhelming sexuality and with what he could do—or seem to do to me.
It felt at the time—at that moment when he simply said “Come,” and I found myself doing as he instructed, seemingly without self-control. But perhaps it was all coincidence, and I was simply ready to do it having witnessed what I had witnessed, my own libido driven to a level of overstimulation by John’s overt and powerful erotic presence. A beautiful naked young man engaged in a sort of self-love that no one, as far as I know, had ever achieved before.
Perhaps that sensation of heat and sex was my own projection, and not some physical manifestation of John’s no matter how much it seemed to be.
After all, sexuality and eroticism are mental conditions, not physical ones. You literally feel sexy, and it’s not something a person projects. Someone else may have felt…absolutely nothing watching John sitting in my chair naked, his body bulging with muscle, his cock swollen and hard and red, using his unique physical abilities to fuck his own ass again and again and again.
I would have to somehow separate my own attraction to John from my job.
Still, my anticipation of his weekly visit reached a fever pitch and I nearly came in my pants when he knocked on my office door.
I opened it and he was fully cloted, as usual—but unusually his body was already swollen with sex and muscle. His usually over-sized clothing was skin-tight on his tumescent frame, testing the seams of his shirt and his pants, and I only needed to glance down to see his huge erection outlined against the crotch of his pants.
“Hi,” he said, smiling. Once again that heat he projected, that singular combination of physical warmth and the scent that always seemed to surround him like musk and the sensation of pure erotic power was radiating from him, wrapping me in a heady, beautiful fog of invisible sex.
“Are you all right?”
His eyes narrowed, and then he laughed gently and nodded. “Oh, yeah. There was a dude outside, skater, shirtless, sweaty. Dude was practicing some moves in the parking lot, not bad really, but as I watched him, watched his body twist and turn, watched his arms fly like wings to steady his balance, I just started to feel….” He let out a full exhale and looked down at his body, swollen and barely contained in his tight clothes.
“Okay,” I said. My cock was throbbing hard and hot and the smell of him, that intense and powerful masculine perfume that always seemed to pump from him in thick clouds as he became more aroused, pushed itself inside my head and started to lick and massage my own libido.
“Have a seat,” I said, stepping aside to let him in.
He started managing his torso out of the shirt that so tightly encased his enormous body and I watch the intricate and deeply-defined muscles on his back swell and flex, and then he stood there with the shirt in his hand, naked from the waist up, and he turns around and I am struck like a hand across my face by the incredible beauty and power of his face and body and he asked, “Hey, where’s the chair?”
I think my mouth was hanging open and I explained, “I had to replace it.”
His handsome head tilts and a lock of hair falls across his gaze as he smiled, then he lifts his arm to brush his hair from his eyes and I witness the insane swell of his upper arm as the biceps bulges and swells and he says, “Because of me?”
“It was old,” I explain, not wishing to assign blame. “Do you like this one?”
He glanced back and shrugged, causing his traps to rise and swell. “I guess.”
“Give it a shot,” I say, crossing behind my desk and sitting down. My prick is fully aroused and pushed against my pants painfully, but he misses my wince of discomfort.
He tosses his shit onto the back of the new chair and starts to undo his pants, pushing them off his hips with some difficulty. This is the first time I’ve seen him in his aroused state wearing clothes, and it seems to me that he might need to go another size bigger. “How often does it happen?”
He’s kicking at his pants to free them from his feet and his cock is pulsing and rising quickly now, freed from its cage, and he asks, “What?”
“Do you get aroused like this while fully clothed?”
“Of course,” he says, matter-of-factly. “It’s why I need big clothes.” He gathers up his pants and they join his shirt on the back of the Danish-modern chair and then he starts to stretch and bend and flex, freed at last from his clothing.
I have rarely witnessed a more sensual display of a man’s body, and he didn’t appear to be trying to be sexual at all. But watching the muscle moving beneath his skin, watching his powerful male form bulge and flex, the two heavy globes of his massive chest pressing against each other, his six-pack flexing and swelling, his cock now hard and glassy, his heavy balls moving like pumps, and I pretend to look at something on my desk to draw my gaze away.
I finally hear him settle into the chair and I look up and he has assumed his usual seated position—one leg thrown over the arm of the chair, the other stretched before him, one hand stroking his throbbing cock while the other explores his body, caressing his chest and his arms and his belly and sometimes turning his head to smell his own armpit. His fat balls are lying between his legs, as big as hen’s eggs.
“How was your week?” I ask.
“Fucking amazing, Doc.” His grin glows into a toothy smile and he announces, “I had sex.”
My eyebrows rise. “Oh?”
“Fuck yeah,” he says, looking at his enormous sexual tool. He pauses stroking and rubs his thumb over the spongy head, drawing away a gossamer string of pre-cum that he gathers on the pad of his thumb before pushing his glistening thumb between his full, soft lips and sucking the salty spunk off.
“How was it?”
His head tilts again and he continues to watch himself stroking his cock as he answers. “Kind of awkward at first. I mean, I didn’t know what I was doing but then I kind of found my rhythm and then it was awesome.”
“May I ask who it was with?”
“Dude I met online.”
“You went online?”
He looked up and smiled. “Don’t worry, nothing bad happened.”
“I hope that you were careful, John. Not everyone online is looking out for your best interests.”
He bent his arm and made the biceps swell into a fat softball. “I think I can handle myself.” He brought the muscles to his face and kissed himself, then lifted his arm and stuck his nostrils deeply into the dank, musky pit and sucked in a long breath. A resulting heavy pump of honey emerged from his prick. “But we had to meat at his place, obviously. And I was careful about things. I just figured it was the most, like, efficient way to get it done, right? Find someone who wants to fuck and go fuck.” He stroked the length of his cock, covering it in a glistening coat.
“I’m not sure that efficiency is the best measure of a satisfying relationship, John.”
“Who said anything about a relationship? I wanted a fuck, he wanted to fuck, it’s a match!”
“I assume you lied about your age.”
“Naturally. But he didn’t seem exactly worried about that, once he saw me.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well, I started with using Grindr but the dudes on it weren’t exactly….”
“You started with a gay sex app?”
“Sure! I mean, I like dick, I like sucking my dick and I like getting fucked by my dick so it made the most sense. Anyway, I looked through it but it wasn’t exactly what I wanted, so I downloaded a different one called Scruff.”
I was familiar with it. Its clientele was a bit rougher than Grindr, but at the same time there was little doubt about its users’ intentions. Most of the profile pics were overt and the the men on it were very up-front about their needs. I merely nodded and tried looking interested rather than turned on. The thought of opening up Scruff on my own phone and seeing John’s face looking back at me—who wouldn’t issue an invitation?
“I was looking for a type, I guess.”
He glanced up and met my eyes and smiled. “Yeah. I had something in mind and I wanted to, I guess, fulfill that fantasy.” He licked his lips slowly and then went back to watching his hand slowly stroking the length of his throbbing monster. “So I flipped through a few dudes and then this one came up who was, like, right there for what I wanted.”
“You approached him?”
“Is that weird?”
“It’s…surprising, considering this is your first real sexual encounter.”
He shrugged those muscled shoulders. “Anyway, the dude’s interested, we sext a little, I send him some more pics of my bod and my cock, he reciprocates, and we’re off to the races.”
“How did you feel about that?”
“Hooking up? I mean, yeah, I was a little scared or whatever. But you know me, Doc, I’m horny like a stag on steroids and I was already stroking to the pictures he sent and he was really hot and everything, so I was excited and fucking horny and ready for another dick in my butt besides mine.”
“You’ve been…doing that a lot?”
“Oh, fuck, doc. ‘A lot’ doesn’t even cover it! I mean, I thought jerking off was amazing but now I can jerk off with my own butt leaving my hands free to explore everywhere else! It’s crazy! I mean, I can’t even thank you enough for urging me on like you did!”
That wasn’t how I remembered things, but rather than interrupt and correct him, I merely nodded.
“So, I show up at this dude’s place, apartment building a few blocks from me as it happens, and by the time I get there I am fully hard and fully ready! I mean, I felt like my body was gonna explode with cum just pushing the button on his apartment number and hearing his voice!”
“Anticipation is actually a lot of the enjoyment that many people have about sex.”
“No shit! So, yeah, I go inside and I practically run up the stairs because I can’t fucking wait for the elevator and I get to his floor and run to his apartment and I’m standing there and suddenly—I can’t move.”
“You can’t move?”
“I’m, like, frozen or something. Like, all the sudden I’m like, should I do this? Do I want to do this?”
“But then the door opens and he’s like standing there and he’s not wearing a fucking thing! The dude is totally naked! Like—naked naked! And my eyes are looking him up and down and I feel like I’m gonna pop any second, my dick hurts it’s so hard, and everything is tingling and throbbing and just before I think I’m gonna explode he reaches his hand out and grabs my neck and pulls my face towards his and we are suddenly kissing right there in the hallway, him all naked and handsome and me all fucking horny as shit and his hands are on my pants and he’s pulling them open and my hands are all over his body, and the dude has a nice body, Doc! A really nice, really firm, really beautiful body and then he’s pulling me into his place and his mouth is already on my cock and I can hardly stand it!”
“Did you come?”
“Fuck yeah, I fucking came! I was a fucking fountain! I’m blasting a fat load and he’s got this shocked look on his face but I am coming all over him, all over his lips and neck and chest, blasting pump after pump and gasping for air and feeling hot and hard and ten he plunges his mouth back over my dick and he’s sucking down as much as he can, fucking choking on how much I’m pushing up my cock and then he sits back on his haunches, his hard-on sticking straight up, his body coated in cum, his hands exploring my belly and my butt and he goes, I shit you not, he goes, ‘Hi!’“
I had to laugh, picturing the scene. I wonder if I would have behaved any differently.
“And I’m all embarrassed and shit because like I barely set foot inside and I came all over him but he’s totally cool about it. ‘That was amazing,’ he says, and he reached up and grabs my cock—I’m still hard, obviously.”
“And I said ‘Sorry’ or something lame like that and he asks me if Im okay and I go ‘Fuck yeah, I’m okay,’ and he grins and leans up and sets his tongue against my prick and fucking liiiiiicks it all the way from my balls to the tip and then he’s kissing my belly and licking the cum off my joint and finally he stands up and starts to kiss me again, like, deep, soft, hot kisses and I can feel another load start building because this dude is so fucking hot!”
“It sounds like you had a good first time.”
“Oh, fuck, Doc, I’m just getting started, because he’s stroking me and kissing me and in between kisses he goes, ‘you’re still hard,’ and I say something dumb like ‘hard for you,’ which just sounds lame but he laughs anyway and he goes ‘you think you can stay hard?’ and I go, ‘you have no fucking idea, dude.’“
At this point my own dick is begging for release, of course. As John has been relating his first sexual encounter, the heat in the room and that masculine musk his body pumps out has grown impossibly strong. His cock is throbbing with hard, rough jerks and weeping a stream of honey, he’s playing with his nipples and sniffing up his own randy stink and I can tell his libido is off the charts.
“I gather, then, that you had a good time.”
John smiled and sighed wistfully and pushed two fingers into his butt. “Fuck, yeah, Doc.”
“Do you want to tell me about the sex?”
“What the fuck have I been doing?”
“Well, technically, that’s all foreplay. Yes, you came, but you were looking for penetration. Right?”
He nodded vigorously. “I wanted to get fucked.”
“Tell me about that.”
“Oh, shit, Doc. So, I told you I was looking for someone specific, and he fit the mold perfectly. I wanted an older dude, someone who knew how to fuck and had fucked plenty. I wanted someone with a nice body, a hard body like mine because I love feeling all the muscle as I stroke, right? And I wanted someone with a big dick, like mine, because I wanted to really feel him as he fucked me, I wanted to know I was being fucked, like really fucked. And this dude checked off all those boxes. So that got me turned on. And then when we started going to town, after I had my clothes off finally and he had my legs up in the fucking air and pushed himself inside and started fucking me, I mean, I guess I’m a good fuck because I made him scream.”
“You made him scream?”
“Or yell. Shout. Anyway he was like…his eyes were really big and he was looking at me like he’d never felt anything like that, like my ass, and I mean, like, how do I know that my ass works differently? Right? But I guess it does because I started, I dunno, kind of stroking and squeezing and sucking on his dick.”
“With your ass?”
“You were sucking his dick with your ass?”
He shrugged. “I mean, that’s what he told me. All’s I know was when he was in me it just felt so good that I started, I dunno, doing whatever, and he said it felt like I was sucking his dick with my ass. So he’s like shaking and whatever and he’s fucking me and I want it to go on and on because, like, I have never felt anything like this before and I guess neither had this dude because like I said he’s like screaming over and over ‘Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!’ just over and over and that turns me on, too, but I’m kinda worried his neighbors or whatever are gonna get mad so I told him to come and I can feel him just, like, painting my guts with cum, like he’s fucking exploding cum inside me and that feels good, too and I start to come and I’m blasting these giant loads from my balls and he’s filling me up inside and, like…yeah.”
I sort of stop listening when John said ‘I told him to come.’ Was that usual, I wondered, now? Did every man he was with only come when he told them to? I wanted to ask but it felt silly at the same time. Obviously that wasn’t how this worked. No one could control someone else’s climax. Hadn’t I been holding back just to spare John from seeing his therapist ejaculate? And then his words had allowed me to do so.
But my cock was like an undeniable monster in my pants. It physically hurt, and if I didn’t relieve the pressure soon there was a change I’d hurt myself.
These thoughts all swam around my head in the silence after John related his first sexual experience with another person and I finally looked up and realized he was looking at me, stroking his enormous hard-on, and smiling. “You okay, Doc?”
I nodded. “That’s…an interesting story.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You know, I told you I was looking for a particular partner for my first time, right?”
“That’s not unusual.”
“So, this dude I hooked up with. He was older.”
“You mentioned that.”
“Like you. And he had a beard. Like you. And brown eyes. Like you. And a nice body, like you. And a big dick. Like you.”
My cock throbbed hard. I winced involuntarily. “It’s called transference,” I explained calmly. “Sometimes…”
“I wanted to be with you my first time, Doc,” John said. “I wanted your cock to fuck me. I wanted to feel your load inside me. I wanted to watch you…”
“John, it’s not….”
“I wanted to watch you come.”
I gasped and grabbed the arm of my chair and squeezed my eyes shut as I was suddenly hit with the biggest orgasmic explosion I had ever experienced. My cock plumped and my balls sizzled and I felt the warm, wet release of cum flooding my underwear and pants. I came hard and full and then I came again.
I was shoving out fat fountains of warm, sticky cream over and over—a dozen times, at least.
I almost screamed with intense bliss and absolute release.
John licked his lips and smiled.
It took me 10 minutes to get cleaned up and I had to throw my boxers away. They were absolutely drenched with my load and when I finally emerged from the bathroom my dick was still throbbing and hard and my balls hurt.
It was exactly the same as had happened with my previous session with John, only this time my cock never calmed down for a second and we’d only been speaking for a few minutes before his presence and his story had driven me over the edge.
I went back to my office and paused at the door, trying to gather myself for the rest of our session. I closed my eyes and tried thinking of non-sexual images. I took in deep cooling breaths and steadied my heart, but my cock—now loose in my pants and pressing urgently against the material—would not calm down.
Opening the door again, John was now standing at the window with his back to me. His butt looked amazing, like two round balls stuck to his backside, jutting outwards towards me like an invitation. They were practically glowing in the afternoon light, sleek and proud and strong. Was he sticking it out towards me, or was is simply so powerful and pronounced that it always projected its power?
He had an absurd taper to his body that I could see more clearly from behind. He had a narrow waist, maybe 28 inches, with distinct pillars of muscle lining his spinal column. Then, nothing but muscle in hard, bulging lobes spreading across his widening back and leading up to those mountainous shoulders. His shaggy head of hair hung loosely across his traps and I could tell that he was slowly, methodically stroking himself as he watched out my window.
“He’s still there,” he said, not turning around. His voice was deep and sensual.
“That skateboarder dude. Jesus I’d like to fuck that ass. I bet it’s fucking tight.”
My dick throbbed hard and I closed my eyes, trying fruitlessly to compose myself. “I…I apologize for that,” I said. “It was very unprofessional.”
He turned his head towards me, allowing me to gaze both at his perfect ass and his handsome face. “What was?”
He smiled and shrugged. “No big deal,” he said. His gaze dropped down to my groin and he bit his bottom lip.
I covered myself with a hand as I maneuvered back to my desk, sitting down gingerly as my erection shoved against the crotch of my pants. “Shall we continue?” I asked. “I can understand if you’d rather….”
He turned back around, facing the skateboarder, his naked body fully framed in the glass to anyone who only looked up, and placed an arm at the top edge of the window. John was leaning forward as he continued to stroke his ever-ready hard-on. “After he came he was kind of done,” he said.
“Uh huh. Which was kind of disappointing. I mean…I wasn’t. Not by a long shot. And he could tell because he pulled himself out of my butt and was looking at me kind of like in shock or something. So I asked ‘what?’ and he was looking at my body, looking at me face, looking at my cock. I was covered in cum. Drenched in it. Like, I’d shot a fat wad all over me and maybe he’d never seen something like that? Anyway, he goes, ‘that was amazing,’ and I’m all like, was it? Because it was my first time, and how do I know what’s supposed to happen, or if I was any good? But I just smile and whatever, because I’m thinking we only just got started and he’d talking like we’re done, right?” He leaned forward and said, “Man, that dude is so fine.” He lifted his hand to his face and spat into his palm before re-applying his grip to his erection. Slick, wet sounds now accompanied his strokes. “I could stand here and watch him forever.”
“So…what happened then?”
“Oh. So, I asked him if I could fuck him, because I wanted to know what that was like, fucking someone other than me.” He continued to speak s if this were all normal as hell, that everyone’s first sexual experience resulted in their partner screaming in utter bliss. “I mean, like, he was acting all amazed and shit at what we did, but he didn’t even know my dick had muscles of its own, right? So if he was screaming when he fucked me, what was he gonna do when I pushed this inside his butt and started having a little fun with him?”
“What do you mean by fun?”
He leaned towards the window and rested his head against it. “Ah, damn, he’s packing his shit up.”
He turned again, just his head. “Skateboarder dude.” He straightened his muscular frame and put his hand on the window. It was coated with ejaculate and he left a thick smear of pre-cum on the glass. “Buh bye, skateboarder dude. See you in my dreams.”
John turned around and his prick was massive, a hard, shiny, red shank of pure sex glistening with pre. His balls looked fat and heavy, and his body was shiny with sweat. He slowly stroked the length of his massive meaty cock as he looked at me, standing naked in my office. “So I asked him if I could fuck him because I was still hard and his face was all, ‘what the fuck?’ like ‘what the fuck is going on with this dude?’ Right? And I sit up and reach out and start stroking myself and I ask him, ‘Don’t you want to feel this inside you?’“
I looked down at that massive length of fat cock and a shudder passed through me. John had to be ten or eleven inches long and thicker than any dick I’d ever managed. But I also knew what he could do with it, and I ached myself to feel him inside. “And he said yes?”
“Not at first, no. I think he was scared. But he was also excited. But he was also worn out.” he looked down at his hard-on and pursed his lips and drooled a fresh supply of spit that oozed down the fat, hard inches of his erection. “The dude had just fucked me for like an hour and…”
“An hour? An actual hour?”
John looked up and his brow rose. “Yeah, sure! I mean, that’s about average, right? I can usually keep going just on my own for a couple of hours if I want to. But anyway he said, ‘I’m not sure I can handle you,’ which I took as a compliment and kind of a challenge. I mean, I’d just given the dude quite a ride, and shouldn’t he be willing to do the same for me? I mean, it’s only fair.”
“You understand that you shouldn’t make anyone do anything they don’t want to, right?”
“Sure, yeah. Of course.” He looked down at his cock again, rubbing his palm around the swollen, spongy head. “But he wanted to.”
“How could you tell?”
He shrugged. “Like I can always tell.”
John strode forward and resumed his seat in front of me. This time he moved his legs wider and began to feed his cock towards his asshole, massaging himself with his fingers and then I watched his hole open itself wide and his cock seemed to zero in on that target with practiced ease. After almost no preamble John was fucking himself again. He began to slowly writhe in absolute sexual bliss, moving his hands all over his naked body, rubbing and pinching his nipples, inhaling the funky musk of his armpits, caressing his chest and his legs and looking altogether lost in a deep haze of pure erotic pleasure.
He was silent for a for minutes as he sank more deeply into this insane form of self-pleasure. John could self-suck and self-fuck himself and I wondered if anyone else would ever be able to deliver the same depth of sexual pleasure that he could bring himself.
He was moaning and sighing and groaning and I watched this for a few moments as the heat in the room increased. With his eyes still closed, I unzipped my pants and pulled my own hard dick out as carefully and secretly as I could. It looked angry, pulsing with hard throbs, and was hot to the touch.
I looked up and he was watching me, and then he smiled and said, “Feel better?”
“Jesus Doc, if I can do this you don’t have to get all worried about having your prick out.” He stretched and licked his biceps and his cock pushed deep inside his ass.
“You can stroke it, Doc. It’s okay.”
I tried to ignore his admonishments. “You said you can always tell.” He nodded and smiled and sighed.
He licked his full, soft, pillowy lips and nodded. “You know what I man.”
“I mean, there are obvious signs when one is trying to initiate. Eye contact. Lingering and repeated glances. Non-verbal-invitations.”
He nodded. “And that thing in your head.”
He tilted his face and narrowed his eyes. “You know. That thing. It’s like a...a feeling. Like a sense or something. Like...hearing.”
“I’m not sure...”
“Like with you,” he said as he rubbed both nipples with both thumbs. “Like how I know you want to fuck me right now.”
I did. Very much. “I don’t….”
“How you want to come over here right now, with your dick out, hard and thick, and push it inside my butt and feel what I can do for you, how I can make you feel, how I can make you scream.”
“It’s okay, Doc. I want you to, you know. I’ve wanted you to since the first day.”
I’d been propositioned before by patients. It’s not all that uncommon as a sex therapist. Sometimes they do it as a challenge. Sometimes they do it as a test. Sometimes they do it as a power move, trying to wrest control of an uncomfortable situation back in their own hands using the only weapon they can think of.
I admit that I wanted to do exactly what John said I did.
Instead, I said, “How would that help you, John? With your problem?”
“My problem is that you’re not over here fucking me.”
“You came to me for a reason. You came to me because you wanted help.”
“Yeah. I want your help getting me off.”
He had never been this forward before, and with every statement I could feel him drawing me to him stronger. It wasn’t just my imagination, it felt as if every word he spoke to me was overwhelming my own feelings of reticence about what he proposed. He was a patient, and a minor, but wither every passing moment I could feel my reluctance fading.
“I can’t, John.”
“Yes,” he said, “you can.” Each word struck me harder than the last, as if he were aiming them at me like sex bullets and shooting them into my desire for him.
“Please stop, John.”
“Stop what? It feels good. It feels so, so good, Doc.” His cock-body squirmed with bliss as his cock pushed itself inside his ass. “Don’t you want to feel it?”
“You know what I mean.”
His face shadowed for a moment and he looked honestly doubtful. “No,” he said, “I don’t.”
“What you’re doing.”
“I’ll stop fucking myself if you come over here and fuck me, instead.”
“Fuck me.” The two words struck me hard, and my cock responded as if it had a mind of its own. I could feel myself physically drawn to him, undeniably.
I rose from my chair. His eyes met mine and his handsome head tilted. I reached down to grasp myself, to wrap my hand around my hard dick. My cock jumped forward. It felt like it was pulling itself from my loins toward him, steel to his magnet.
“Yeah,” he growled. “Come over here.”
I obeyed, pushing my pants off my hips. My cock was throbbing hard, it felt heavy and hot and huge. I circled around my desk and stood next to him. Heat and sex was pouring off his naked body in waves that bathed me in his desire. My own climbed higher in response, driven past the red line now that I was close to him.
His dick pulled itself from his ass, a strong stalk of sex, and he wrapped his hand around himself and stroked the throbbing meat. I could smell him strongly, now, and he smelled like fucking.
I sank to my knees and leaned in towards his open ass and pushed my tongue inside him. He groaned and opened himself to me. I could taste him, taste his sweet, tangy ass and his salty, musky pre-cum. I bathed his hole with spit and my cock hurt from its hardness.
May hands crawled along his long, muscular legs. Each one felt like a massive cock I was stroking, throbbing with sex. He groaned and sighed and I head him cum, heard his cock deliver a thick wet fountain that splattered on his belly and his chest. I squeezed his legs like I was squeezing his cock. When he came his whole body swelled and trembled.
“Fuck me,” I heard him say. The words swam through my head like a kiss on my lips. “Fuck my ass.”
My dick was undeniable. It was so hard it hurt. I stood on shaky legs, gripped my hot inches and pointed my dick towards his asshole, watching it open for me and shiver with intense need.
I slid inside him, surrounded by wet heat, and he clamped his ass around my cock like a rough grip and I could feel him massaging and rubbing me with his ass.
I couldn’t come. I wanted to come but I couldn’t come. My load was sizzling in my balls and tingling along my dick, held at the edge of explosion as he sucked on my dick with his ass.
“Fuck me,” he said again.
I pushed myself inside him fully, pressing my groin to his taint and nudging his prostate with the head of my steel-hard dick. He moaned and shook, setting his legs against my body. I looked down at his torso, at his rippled belly and magnificent chest and long, thick, gleaming cock. His whole body was throbbing, gently swelling and receding, the veins that crawled over every inch of his cock-body feeding more blood into his muscles.
He was fully swollen, fully aroused, fully engorged. His eyes were closed and his mouth lolled open and his chest and belly rose and fell as he breathed.
I began to try pulling myself free of him and start to fuck his ass, but his hole was a vice that held me fast. Then he opened his eyes and smiled and allowed me to fuck him.
Slowly, achingly slowly, I tugged myself from the mouth of his ass, my balls burning and my cock on fire. My load was a shining, staggering burden that I couldn’t release, a huge, heavy, over-inflated flood of cream that kept growing larger and stronger and heavier with every inch of cock I pulled from his butt.
As I neared the limit of my prick, as the head approached the tight exit of his hole, I shifted my hips and shoved myself home and he came again. I watched his cock push out a fat flood of cum that sprayed across the throbbing mountains of muscle all over his body.
“Gotta cum,” I pleaded. “Gotta cum.”
He opened his eyes and reached forward and placed his hand against me. It was hot and he pressed it against my skin like a five-fingered dick. “Keep going,” he told me. “Fuck me.”
His words were powerful and undeniable. I started fucking him, shifting my hips and pushing my cock in and out, nudging his prostate, feeling every firm inch if his ass surrounding my dick. My balls felt like balloons, swollen and firm.
He groaned and twisted his head on his neck and shook and trembled. His whole body was a cock. He looked at me, his eyes meeting mine, and he reached his arms out and said, “Kiss me.”
I leaned into his embrace and kept pistoning my hips, plunging my hot, hard prick in and out of his ass and pressed my body against his. He was hot and hard and pulsing with hard jolts of sex. He came again as our skin connected, splattering another fat load between us, and he lifted his head and pressed his mouth to mine.
His lips were soft and warm and his tongue was long and hungry. He wrapped his arms around me, strong arms, thick and hard with muscle, squeezing me against him. I shoved inside and he came again. My body was shaking, sweating, I had to come. I had to.
He kissed me. “Feels so good,” he whispered. He kissed me. He came again. “You feel so good.”
I whimpered. I moaned. I kissed him back. His body was throbbing and hard and slick. I fucked him and moved my hands all over his cock-body, stroking him, caressing him, loving him.
He pulled his face away and looked at me. He smiled and said, “Come.”
I exploded. I threw my head back and arched my spine and pushed myself in to the hilt of my sword and felt my balls empty and my load shoving up my dick inside John’s ass. He clamped down on me with his muscular power and held me inside as I emptied what felt like a gallon of cum.
I came and came. I came without end. I wasn’t shooting small pumps, I was unleashing myself as if I had opened a major vein and was uncontrolled and overwhelmed.
John was groaning and tugging me, sucking me, draining me with his talented ass. I could feel him squeeze the length of my cock like he was squeezing a tube of toothpaste, wanting every drop I had to give. He shook and throbbed and twitched like a huge cock, and he pumped loads of cum all over his thickly muscled body.
I looked up and he smiled and folded his huge arms, placing his hands behind his head and tensing his collection of muscles into stark development. He posed and flexed for me as I came in his ass and he bit his lower lipped and nodded and closed his eyes and shook with intense orgasmic power.
He squeezed me dry and my balls ached and my cock was throbbing and I felt physically drained by the experience. I collapsed onto him and he surrounded me with his strong arms and held me against his hot, slick, throbbing body.
“Now,” he said, leaning his soft lips to my ear and speaking in a gruff, throaty voice, “it’s my turn.”
If I said I couldn’t help myself, would you believe me? I am not sure I believe me, in retrospect. Looking back a week at that day in my office and what we did together, it was at the least a breach of ethics between a doctor and his patient. He was above the age of consent for my particular state, and our age difference was not extreme, but the fact that he had come to me for help and now we had….
I make it a practice not to contact my patients outside the office. They have my number and may call if they need help of any sort, of course, but I want to keep our sessions private and allow them to define this safe space without expanding that relationship outside the walls of my office.
I cannot tell you, though, how often I took my phone out and pulled up John’s number and hovered my thumb over the call button. I ached to hear his voice again. I wanted to hear him speak anything, because it all sounded filthy and sexual to me now.
When I dreamed, I dreamed of him. When I jerked off—which was an increasing amount—it was his face and his body I saw in my head. It was his voice and his words whispered in my ear.
“Fuck me. Fuck my ass. You feel so good. So good.”
I’m hard right now. My dick is a monster in my shorts wanting out. It weeps pre and coats my underwear with musky honey. My balls pulse and throb and ache.
All for him.
I look down at my desk and I think of what we did on it—what he did to me, and for me. A fuck so pure and deep and true that no one else will ever be able to fuck me again. I can feel his dick inside me right now, a fat muscular limb reaching into me and stroking my sex until I couldn’t stand it anymore. A sensation of bliss so immense and incredible that I felt I might go mad.
And John over me, John’s handsome face, John’s strong body, John’s enormous power shoving inside me over and over, his lips pressed against mine, my hands stroking his slick, hard body, his growls and groans and hisses of absolute animalistic pleasure as he fucked me like no one else ever had or ever could.
I would tell you what it was like but now it all seems like a dream or a fantasy. Could anyone feel that way in real life? When he pushed me backwards onto my desk and pulled my pants off my legs and pushed them apart to open my ass to his desires, could I even begin to realize what was going to happen?
I was delirious. I must have been. I was in some elevated state of ecstatic bliss, drunk on him, intoxicated. He made me come buckets of cream over a period of minutes and then he was on top of me and inside me and the world disappeared for…how long? How long did it last? How could I withstand what was happening to me?
I’d had very good sex before. At least I thought I had. Maybe all the blood had rushed from my brain and I felt dizzy and lost because of it. How can I explain it otherwise?
His hot, hard, slick body rubbing against me like a giant prick, throbbing with sex and power, pulsing with hard shocks of pure masculine sex, his musky scent overwhelming my senses, his mouth on mine, his long, pliant tongue inside, his cock stretching and bulging and shuddering, driving me insane.
Literally, while he was inside me, and above me, I was insane. Insane with delight and insane with pleasure and insane with sex.
He was made of sex.
His hands were everywhere. Did he have six hands? Eight? His mouth kissing mine, then sucking my nipples, then licking my armpit. He bathed me in sex. He showered me with it. We were an orgy of two, would up inside each other and exploding with cum again and again.
I was…well, “curious” would be an understatement regarding my feelings about what happened between John and me. It wasn’t just sex. I felt compelled, in a way. I mean, I’m not saying I didn’t want to fuck him, because I did. He’s an extraordinarily beautiful man with an extraordinarily beautiful body and an extraordinarily talented dick. He is both super sexual and super sensual and seemed to know exactly how I liked having sex. He knew what I wanted before I wanted it. I didn’t have to say or do anything. His hands where there, or his lips or his tongue or his cock. Rubbing against his body is like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
But it was more than that. I couldn’t help myself. And when he said ‘come,’ when he allowed me to do it, it was like my whole body had been filling up with hot, sticky cum and he was pulling it all out of me in the biggest, hardest, deepest orgasmic explosion of my entire life.
I didn’t ask him about it and he didn’t volunteer anything. If he was actually doing…something, either he didn’t realize it or he didn’t think it was unusual.
I got his medical files and did some research about his unusual condition, but there had never been anything like him before—at least, no one had ever recorded anything about a man whose body was suffused with erectile tissue and whose cock was infused with muscle that allowed him to flex it and bend it and extend it like some prehensile tail.
When he puts that dick inside you—you fucking know it, too! It was unlike anything else I’d ever felt. Not like a vibrator or a toy or fingers or a tongue or anything else.
His brain was also manufacturing an absurd amount of dopamine and oxytocin. One is related to happiness and elation, and the other is naturally released during touching and cuddling and high temperatures. Dopamine makes us literally feel good, and oxytocin is the thing that, for lack of a better word, makes us love someone. It’s also released in high amounts during sex, which makes us drawn to anyone we’re having sex with.
But John is feeling that all the time. Happiness and love all the fucking timeHe had mentioned that he knew how others were feeling—what they desired—like he was hearing it. Could he have some other sense? Was his brain literally built differently from mine? And how far did that sense extend? If he could know how I felt and what I wanted, could he also plant those desires?
I glanced at my watch. Five minutes to go.
What would happen? How would I manage this?
I wanted him. I wanted him so badly it was a physical pain in my chest.
My cock throbbed and my balls buzzed and my ass tingled. I looked at the chair where all my other patients also sat and wondered if they could feel him when they sat there. Did he leave some of himself behind? Was he so sexy that he saturated the room with that smell, and did his heat and power resonate even when he wasn’t here?
I stood up and crossed around my desk and looked at the chair. There was no obvious sign of him, no butt-shaped dent in the seat, no sign of his copious loads. I sank to me knees beside it and ran my hand around the vinyl and brought my hand to my face to see if there was a lingering scent of his balls and ass.
Nothing. No discernible sign of John was there.
Three minutes to go.
I stood up and went to the window. I looked outside at the world where he wandered and wondered how other people handled him. How did they see him approaching and not strip themselves naked and invite him to fuck them? Why wasn’t he allowed to exist in his erect state all the time, leaking sex like a fog and stroking that huge, hard dick until he exploded cum all over the streets?
I heard him approaching. He was on time as usual, anxious to start our session.
Anxious to see me.
Anxious to fuck me.
I opened the office door and there he was, standing there, looking like a huge, hard cock ready to pump gallons of cream inside my ass. “Doc!”
He fell against me and pushed his lips against mine and kissed me passionately. I tried to hold myself back, I tried to remember that I was his doctor and he was my patient, but he overwhelmed me again, the sensation of his hard, hot body pressed against mine, the cascade of pure sex he emanated like a storefront, his hungry, eager mouth kissing me with deep and lingering desire. His arms, thick with muscle and hard as iron, wrapped around me and crushed me within their undeniable strength.
I kissed him back. God, I needed him. I needed him like air.
He pulled his mouth from mine and he was smiling and he said, “What a fucking amazing week, Doc! I could hardly wait to come back to you!”
He passed around me into the office and was filled with energy and obvious excitement. Something big must have happened, and he couldn’t wait to tell me about it. He tossed his sex diary onto my desk and flopped his big body into the chair without even disrobing. He was somewhere between his “limp” state and his “erect” state, his body swollen larger than usual but not approaching the enormity of his fully-aroused stature.
I took in a long, deep breath to try to calm myself and then I caught a strong whiff of him all over. He had rubbed himself against me and left an imprint on my clothes and skin. I smelled like he did, now, and my dick—already hard in anticipation of seeing John again—pumped up a wet gob of pre-cum.
I swallowed drily and turned around. He had been looking at my ass and his gaze rose now to look into my eyes. “You sound excited,” I remarked as calmly as I could. My ass twitched and throbbed in memory of his magic muscle-cock inside me.
He wiggled his eyebrows and looked like the teenaged boy he was, even though his sculpted chin and cheeks were dusted with a heavy shadow of the beginnings of a beard and he looked like a man ten years older than his age, a man who spent a good deal of time at the gym perfecting his amazing body.
He was swelling. I could see it now. His muscles were slowly, continuously growing as he became increasingly aroused. “Fuck yeah, Doc! I marked it for you!” He swung a leg over the arm of the chair. I could see his cock inching its way along his thigh under his pants.
I looked at him with confusion and he jutted his chin at the sex diary sitting on my desk. There was a small slip of paper sticking out of the top edge.
“Should I read it now? We only have an hour and….”
“Yeah, I was wondering about that. I think we need to spend more time together, Doc. I mean, you can’t believe how much these sessions are helping me. And only an hour a week seems so short! Is there any way we can stretch this out?”
“Well, normally you’re my last patient of the day so I guess….”
“Sweet! Excellent. Read what I wrote, then. I mean, I could tell you about it but I took some time writing it. I wanted you too read it all. And I wanted to be here when you did.” He was stroking his growing dick, squeezing himself.
“You’re not going to disrobe?”
I love working out. I love everything about it. I love the feeling of my muscles burning. I love watching my muscles work. I love feeling the sweat pouring out. I love feeling my heart pumping blood everywhere. I love everything about it.
Except one thing. I hate working out with clothes on.
I know that’s weird but I’m weird, right? Who else has a body that swells up like mine does? And when I start working out I get even bigger. Not sure I told you that, but you know how when you work out you get that pump, right? Things get bigger and tighter and harder. Well, on me, that pump is pretty amazing.
I know you work out. You have a great body. Fuck, I’m getting hard just thinking about you naked.
Okay, stroked one out and calmed down. Gotta not think about you naked, Doc.
I’m at the gym and I’m in the back room. There’s like this smaller room in the back that’s all mirrors and it’s usually empty. I think they do classes back there or something. Yoga or something. Anyway, I usually work out back there because when I work out in the main gym I keep getting distracted by all the dudes in their tight workout togs and their hard bodies slick with sweat and they’re all grunting and wincing like they’re trying to push their dicks in my tight hole. So I take the weights in the back and work out there.
Well, so the dude who I guess owns the gym or something stopped me when I was coming in for my workout and tells me I’m not allowed to do that. So I go why not? And he gets this weird look and pauses and whatever, I mean he’s a good looking dude, nice face, great body obviously so I don’t mind standing there waiting at all because I can check him out. So eventually he says that I stink up the room and I go “What?” and he goes “Yeah, when the class comes in after you’re in there they say it smells weird” and I’m all “So I’m not supposed to sweat or something?” and he goes “It’s not that it’s something else” and I go “What is it, dude?” and he leans in and I think he’s gonna kiss me or something but instead he goes “It makes everyone horny.”
And I’m all like, whoa, what the fuck? How is that my fault? And then I notice he’s, like, smelling me or something and I’m all “Dude, what the fuck?” and he’s all like “Yeah, you make everyone horny and when you’re in that little room it’s like concentrated fuck juice or something.”
So, okay, whatever, nothing I can do about that I guess. So I ask him “What am I supposed to do then?” and he goes “You can work out out here like everyone else” and I’m thinking yeah but then I’m gonna get all hard and if you think you have a problem now just wait, but like it’s his gym and everything so I go “Okay,” and he smiles and he’s checking me out and I mark him down for maybe some later fun together and I go to the locker room to change like usual.
But I’m kind of worried about what’s going to happen because like I said I get distracted and I decide I better just start out hard and see what happens so I don’t freak anyone out. So I’m back there and I’m stroking my dick and feeling myself start to swell and you know it’s the locker room so like it’s not exactly private so I’m jerking off and this other dude comes in and he’s kind of surprised and he stops dead and he’s watching me and I look up and kind of shrug because dude, we’re both dudes, it’s not like he’s not gonna be doing this in an hour or so. Anyway, I keep on stroking and then he comes over and he grabs my dick and he starts jerking me offI’m thinking this is awesome! So I just lie back and let him go for it and I’m leaking pre like a faucet and he’s moaning and squeezing and stroking and then I feel his mouth on my cock and he’s sucking my joint right there in the locker room and it feels mighty fine and I’m still getting bigger, right?
So I start pinching my nips and I’m swelling up and out and he’s practically gagging on me because my dick is swelling longer and thicker but this dude is determined and then I hear another dude come in and he’s got this look on his face like dude, what the fuck?
But then this other kind of look comes over his face and he’s stripping his clothes off as fast as he can and he’s suddenly right in there with his face pushed into the other dude’s butt and I can hear him lapping up the workout sweat like he’s super thirsty and the first dude is groaning on my cock and I can feel it everywhere and I start shooting.
So now I’m coming in this dude’s mouth and my growth takes off, like muscle fucking everywhere, cock as big as a fucking house, dude pulls his mouth off my dick because I am exploding like a fucking fountain and I’m spurting all over his face and he’s still got my dick in his hand and he’s fucking aiming my cock at his mouth and trying to swallow these fat pumps of cum and then the other dude stands up and shoves his cock in this dude’s ass and he’d getting fucked while I’m filling his guts with cum and it’s so awesome.
I looked up and John was watching me. Still clothed, but now swollen even bigger, he was squeezing the fat length of cock threatening to split the seam of his pants. His chest had swollen into two huge globes of power pressing against his shirt, his nipples hard and prominent. “Get to the good part yet?”
“You’re in the locker room with two other guys and one is giving you a blow job while the other guy is fucking his ass.”
“So you’re not to the good part yet.” He smiled and my cock pulsed hard and shoved painfully against my pants. “You need to let your dick out.”
It wasn’t a question, and again the words entered my brain like a command or a consent, as if John speaking them allowed me to overcome my own chains and surrender to my desires. I reached down and unbuckled my belt and unzipped my pants and pushed my shorts down, allowing my cock to pop free and slap its glossy, wet head against my belly.
“Yeah,” he said. “stroke it.”
“The good part is coming up. Keep reading while you jerk off.”
I wanted to ask him why he was still dressed, why his own massive shank of sex was caged up and why he wasn’t stroking his own cock-body like I was now stroking my dick, but instead I turned my gaze back to the open pages of John’s sex diary and kept reading.
So I now I’m massive, just super pumped. I can hardly fit into my workout clothes and my cock is as hard as a rock, just this huge hard salami and two fat balls bulging in my jock. I walk out onto the floor of the gym and I swear to god the whole place just slams to a halt. Every pair of eyes in the place turns toward me as I walk out of the locker room leaving those two guys on the floor in some sex daze and covered in my cum.
I can feel it, Doc. I can feel this tide of sex like an ocean washing up over me. Waves of sex, everyone in that space wants me, wants to be with me, wants me to be naked, wants to see my dick and suck my dick and feel my dick inside them.
It’s like I know what everyone wants or something. I can look at the dude on the chest machine and when our eyes meet I know he wants to lick my ass hole, he wants to rub it and stick his tongue inside and lap up my stink.
I look over on the other side and there’s a dude in the leg machine and he wants me to fuck him hard. He wants to feel my dick pressed against his asshole and he wants to feel the intense pain and the intense pleasure of my foot-long, rock-hard, muscular cock sliding inside him and nudging his prostate again and again and again.
There’s a dude getting a drink of water—he’s just stuck there bent over in awe of me—and he wants to kiss me and feel my strong arms around him, squeezing him against all my muscles while our mouths are kissing deep and wet and hot. He wants to feel my hard muscles and my hard cock pressed against his smaller body. He wants to feel overwhelmed by me.
And then I realize that they’re all frozen. They’re all looking at me and waiting for me. They need me to release them, to sort of allow them to do what they want to.
I strip off my shirt and I can feel the waves of sex increase. It’s like heat against me. I rub my thumbs against my nipples and feel that awesome cascade of pleasure all through me and as I do it it’s like I send out an invitation or something, like I’m another ocean of sex and my waves go out and strike those guys and they respond with stronger waves in return, like me feeling pleasure is making them feel it too.
It’s like a dream or something and I start to caress my body, so I can feel that pure fucking pleasure and my waves of sex grow stronger and spread out and when they hit those other guys they can feel it too.
I’m so hard I think my dick is gonna break off. I’m insanely turned on and I look up at John and he’s watching me and he nods and smiles. “Yeah,” he says. “Do you want to feel it?”
I nod back, stunned and aroused in equal measure.
He slips his hand up under his shirt and he move his fingers over the huge muscular globe of his pectoral mound and finds his nipple and start to gently rub it. He bites his lip and pulls in a slow, deep breath and then I feel it. I can feel it.
I can feel my nipple being rubbed. I can feel a deep flow of bliss throb outward and cascade through my body. I can feel a large, rough finger rubbing my nipple and shocks of pure erotic bliss erupt and zero in on my dick.
I gasp and groan and sigh and John starts to remove his shirt and I am allowed a reprieve from the strange but welcome sensation of his hand on my nipple. He tosses his shirt aside—his upper body is massive. Muscle everywhere, thick and hard and bulging, and then he rubs his thumbs against his bare nipples and I gasp sharply and squeeze my eyes shut as the sensation of sex doubles and throbs and zeroes in on my hard cock throbbing in my hand.
“Keep reading.” he orders quietly.
The sensation of his hands on my body continue sending hard pulses of sexual power through me as my eyes fall to his pages again. My eyes open and look down at his handwriting in the pages of the diary that feels hot and sweaty in my hands.
You never told it would be like this, Doc. Maybe you were sparing my from how intense it was going to be. You said it was important to have empathy for my partners, to try to understand things from their perspective.
Doc, I not only understood everyone’s perspective, I was feeling it! I was hearing itDude to my left, little dude, wiry, maybe 19 or 20, he’s broadcasting this strong desire to suck my dick, and then I listen and, no, not my dick, this other dude’s dick! I look over and I see the other dude, hairy fucker, Doc. Like a beast or something. Giant dude with arm muscles like hams and a chest built out of two barrels and this little dude wants him so, so, bad and then I hear the other dude, the big hairy dude, and all he wants is to be fucked, to be overwhelmed, to be commanded by—get this, Doc—to be commanded by a little dudeHe’s this huge, HUGE hairy muscle beast and he wants to be somebody’s bitch. So I look at the dude on the left and say “Take him,” and they’re together so fast it’s like I can feel them slamming into each other and the big dude is like a foot taller and he’s kissing the little dude’s face and whispering “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” in-between and so I know they’re gonna be good.
So I like open myself up to the other dudes in there, like a dozen other dudes, and I can hear what they want. I can hear their desires, and who they want, and what they want to do!
It’s so fucking awesome. All that sex is pouring into me and I am hard as a rock! I am hard as steel! I am a ramrod filled with cum and I need to fucking get fucking off right fucking nowThree guys want me. They want me bad. One guy is just like staring at my dick. It’s practically tearing itself out of my jock and then I do something that I swear I didn’t even think anyone would be turned on by cock like this but I just use my dick to push itself out of my jock.
Because I can do that, Doc. Did you know I can do that? You’d be amazed at what my cock can do! Or maybe you wouldn’t.
So I just stand there, arms folded across my chest, grinning and I watch him watching me and I use my cock to strip itself out of its jock and then I’m freeMy dick stretches and bulges and throbs and I start leaking like this steading stream of pre and it’s coating my dick in a slick honey. I can smell myself really strong, like super strong, and then that dude comes over and wraps his hands around my slick, hard dick and pushes his mouth over the head and starts sucking me like I’m his personal water bottle.
Fuck, it feels amazing but I don’t wanna come, yet. I have more work to do. I want to watch what happens in here.
I look over and this dude is so into my muscles! He wants to see me flex, wants to watch my muscles swell and my veins pop and the look on my face as I show myself off to him. So while this dude is giving me a professional-strength blowjob I start showing myself off, and I’m not like a pro bodybuilder or anything, like I don’t know the moves but I show off for myself in the mirror and I know what turns me on so I start pumping up my guns and pushing my biceps hard and the veins are popping and blood is flooding into the muscle making it bulge like a motherfucker and hard as a rock and I keep pumping and pumping and swelling and swelling and swear to god this dude blows his wad without ever touching himselfI didn’t even know that was possible! Just me swelling up with muscles as this dude sucks my wang and the other dude just comes and I can feel it! I can feel him come like this thing that hits me and it makes me pump a fat flood of my own cum inside this dude’s mouth and he starts gagging because it’s a fucking flood but I couldn’t help myself!
I looked up at John again and I’m sure my face registered my astonishment at what he had written. Could it possibly be true? Was he just pulling my leg?
He smiled and says, “What?” and then he’s twisting his nips hard and he winces and I wince because it’s pain and pleasure and I suck in a sudden breath and realize it’s all true, all of it, because I can feel what he’s doing.
He twists harder.
“No! No, I meant can you stop that for….”
“Oh, fuck! Sorry, doc, you were into it so I thought you wanted more.”
My nipples sting and throb and I never touched them. I can feel John’s big, rough thumbs still torturing them. “This is impossible,” I say softly.
John rubs the edge of his thumb gently against his peanut-sized nipple and that constant, throbbing sexual sensation returns. “Clearly,” he says, “not.”
He shrugs those huge shoulders and smirks, then he sits up and stops caressing his magnificent body. “Like I know? Maybe I could always do it but until I had sex I just didn’t know it. I mean, I could tell when someone was interested in me. Right? But I just thought that felt the same to everyone. I didn’t know that you can’t feel what someone else wants with, like, clarity.”
He narrows his eyes and starts moving his hands over his torso, massaging and caressing himself. I can feel his hands moving over my skin, I can feel the warmth of his hands, the pressure of his fingers, as if he is right there. My dick is so hard it hurts and John smiles and closes his eyes and moans. “Yeah, Doc. Fuck yeah, I can feel everything.”
I have no idea how this is possible but it obviously is. John seems to be broadcasting his sensations to me, and my body is reacting now as if his hands are on my skin, on my belly, on my chest.
“Does it…?” He opens his eyes and looks at me. “Does it work both ways?”
He shakes his head. “I can’t feel what you’re doing. But I can feel what you want to do. Like, I know right now that you want me to do this.”
He rises from his chair. His body is sleek and strong and powerful and he moves with a sensuality that intoxicates me. He circles around my desk and jerks my chair towards him. And then I watch something I will never forget and can never see enough of.
As he stands there, young and handsome and powerful, I look down and notice that there is movement in his crotch. A swelling. Pressure against his pants from the inside. The bulge swells larger and larger until his pants pop open and unzip themselves.
His prick pushes its way from his jeans without aid or touch. He used the muscles of his cock to unleash himself and then his massive prick swells and throbs and rises before me. The skin turns glossy as it fills with mass and inches higher and higher, the swollen head moving towards my lips as a thin, gloomy string of honey drools from its mouth. He shifts his hips and his pants fall from his body and he’s naked now. He’s naked and he straddles me in my chair and slowly lowers himself onto me and somehow, some way, I feel my hard-on slipping inside his ass and he sits on my lap with my dick up his butt and he’s using that magical, magnificent ass of his to stroke and suck my hard dick.
I am mesmerized. I’m incapacitated. My brain is turning summersaults as his cock continues to swell and stretch and push itself towards my mouth and then I feel him rub himself against my lips, his cock moving like a snake, wetting my mouth with the musky warmth of his pre-cum, kissing me with his cock. Mine is inside him, swollen and hot, and he shifts his hips and squeezes me.
I push out my tongue and lick the soft, warm helmet of his amazing and talent cock and he pushes himself inside and edges towards the back of my throat, filling my mouth with his massive, hard meat and forcing my jaw open.
“Yeah,” he says softly, “take it all. Take that dick. Suck me, Doc. Suck me until I explode.”
My eyes roll up in their sockets and I reach forward and grab the long, heavy shank of his sex. He is hard as a rock, pulsing with hard thuds, hot as the sun. I start to suck and stroke him, drooling spit and pre down the fat inches of his muscular cock and feel him swell and recede as if it is a living, breathing thing of its own. I fuck him and suck him and hard spasms of pure sex wash over me.
He groans and I feel hard pinches on my nipples and realize he is pinching himself and broadcasting to me again. Then his hands are moving all over his body as he pleasures himself and I can feel his hands all over my body, too. I suck and he swells and a sudden gushing fountain of wet heat fills my mouth and I swallow hungrily and hurriedly knowing more is coming.
He starts to buck on my lap, fucking my dick, and push his cock down my throat and lets loose torrents of hot cum that I swallow like cream, feeling him filling my belly. And I start to cum, throbbing and swelling and pushing gouts of cum inside his butt.
And he cums and he strokes and he caresses and I swallow and I stroke and I drown in bliss.
I was in serious trouble. Not just professionally, but personally as well.
I was addicted to John. That was how I needed to confront the situation. I had to think of this in terms of a medical condition in order to treat it, but since I was the one addicted to him and he was certainly not in any way concerned about this, it meant that my access to the thing—or, in this case, the person—I was addicted to was unfettered and all-encompassing.
His presence was like a drug. I could feel him coming—and I mean that with both connotations. Sometimes I could literally feel him on my body, as our connection seemed to strengthen and proximity to me became less important for him. He teased me with his power over me during the week when we were not together, and I’d find myself being caressed and even jerked off as I sat fully clothed trying to speak to another patient, or sitting on the subway, or lying alone in my bed.
I could feel his hands on my body. I could feel his mouth on my cock as he sucked on his own and allowed me to feel that sensation. I could feel his dick in my ass as he fucked himself again and again and I could experience fucking and being fucked simultaneously.
I was…overwhelmed by these sensations. And John was insatiable. A sexual master who was never fully satisfied and constantly aroused.
“I’m always horny,” I heard his voice in my head. “Always.”
How could I keep up?
The longer we were together, the stronger his power over me seemed to grow. And although I would object to his intrusions—sending him texts or calling him up—he knew that I loved it. He knew, because he knew what I liked, and what I wanted.
His texts became sexts and sexts that not simply told me what he would do, but he would do it as he typed. “You can feel my lips on the tip of your cock” and I could. “You can feel me swallow your hard dick down my throat.” And I could. “I’m fucking your ass.”
And he was.
Occasionally he would include me in on his other sexual encounters, which grew more frequent and increasingly powerful on a nearly daily basis. Did John even sleep? Or was he just constantly fucking and being fucked—that is, when he wasn’t pleasuring himself.
He had a veritable buffet of lovers at his beck and call, and why wouldn’t he? Being with John was…like nothing you could eve dream of. He was a real live wet dream, a literal walking hard-on, a man with an unlimited sex drive—and one so powerful that it would leak out from his own body and encompass yours!
I was with another patient when my phone buzzed in my pocket and suddenly I could feel something pushing against the tip of my cock. Something warm and wet and tender. Then the head of my cock was surrounded by heat and something was squeezing me. I knew what it was instinctively. I knew what it was from memory. I could feel John’s strong, tight, perfect ass squeezing my dick. I could feel my cock being pulled inside John’s velvet vice and then he was massaging me and milking me with his muscular butt, my entire cock surrounded with the sensation of being inside his hot, tight hole as he started to fuck me, sliding along my dick and stroking me with his ass.
I started breathing harshly as the sensation of being fucked by John grew stronger and stronger. My phone buzzed again, and I knew it was him, and I knew he wanted to know if I could feel him, feel his ass, feel him fucking me.
I licked my lips and my mouth went slack and my dick was throbbing and tingling and shaking with hard, forceful shocks of sex. I sat there in my chair behind my desk trying to concentrate on the voice of my patient as John’s butt slid up and down on my cock and my balls started to tingle and my cock ached and I could feel a load of cream building.
My phone again, and my patient asked if I should get that, and maybe it was another one of my patients who needed something, if they were being that persistent.
I apologized and took out my phone and unlocked the screen and immediately there were the three messages from John and each one had a picture of him on it, of his face and his cock and his ass, and he was asking me “can you feel that?” and “does it feel good?” and then as I was looking at these images of him a fourth one came up.
It was a selfie. He held the camera out from himself and his dick was pushed inside his ass and he was smiling and biting his lip and then a text came through.
“gonna make you cum so hard”
I pulled in a sharp, shuddering breath as the sensation grew even stronger and I swear I could smell him now, smell his funk and his sweat and his ass and I said something to my patient, some apology again or something and I got up and staggered from my office and tried to make it to the bathroom.
My phone throbbed again in my hand and I lifted it and looked at the screen. John was holding his phone in one hand. His other hand was now stroking the portion of his prodigious prick that wasn’t shoved inside his ass and I could feel it all, oh Jesus, I could feel him jerking me off as I fucked his ass.
And my load was a shining hard bomb waiting to explode. My load was inside a volcano that was going to erupt any second.
“gonna make you scream”
I scrambled to the bathroom and locked the door and pulled my jeans open and my dick sprang out, red and hard and angry, throbbing and jerking and drooling pre-cum as John stroked me and fucked me and then my phone again, vibrating just like my dick, and I look at it and it’s his handsome face, his gorgeous face, and just one word:
Holy fuck I exploded! I shoved the heel of my hand into my mouth to stifle the scream of absolute, overwhelming bliss as my balls seized up and my cock swelled and stream after stream of cum was shoved from my dick over and over and over! I fell to my knees and threw back my head and shoved my dick up and came so fucking hard! And no one, not even me, even touched it.
I came thick and hard and then my phone buzzed again. I had dropped it to the floor in the middle of John’s sexual onslaught and I looked at the screen and it was another sexy selfie. John’s cock occupied most of the screen. It was coated in cum, like thick frosting, it drooled down the side and erupted from the tip and I could see John’s unfocused face beyond it. He snapped this just as he came—as we came—showing me his own explosive orgasm timed to go off with mine.
“did it work?”
Another time, at the gym. I go early, before I get to the office, and before almost anyone else shows up there. Waking at 5am and at the gym by 6, get in a good workout, sweat, raise the heart level, feel a good pump, then a hot shower and I’m ready for work.
I was remembering the story John told me, about him and Charlie, John in the showers after his own workout, stroking his dick in the pouring water, Charlie walks in, sees him come, watched his monster swell up and explode, pumping out his wealth of hot, musky spunk and he gets turned on watching this, comes over….
I can feel a hand on my cock. I can feel it gently squeezing. I can feel it coaxing me to erection. A broad, rough thumb rubs against the tip. fingers grip my dick and tug and stroke.
I recognize that hand. I recognize that touch.
Another set of fingers on my nipple, plucking at the rubbery head, making small circles around and around it.
I lean forward into the stream and put my arm on the tiles and I reach down and start to stroke myself.
Now there are two hands pleasuring me, mine and John’s. Simultaneously teasing me until I’m hard, then stroking me, rubbing me, and John’s hand leaves my dick and he is caressing my naked body, his hands on my chest, on my belly, on my butt. His rough, strong hands moving around my naked skin as I stand in the water jerking off.
Then I feel him at my butthole. I feel him rubbing himself against me, the warm—hot—spongey head of his cock kissing the tenderness of my hole, wanting inside. I feel him pushing against me. I am standing in a shower at the gym at 6:48 in the AM and John is starting to fuck me, standing up, in the shower.
The experience is…weird. And amazing. And almost frightening in its intensity. His hands are caressing my body and his dick is sliding inside my butt and I’m standing there alone jerking off but I can feel him there with me, sense him there in every way but the actual one.
I miss his mouth. I miss his kiss. It’s the only thing he can’t do in this magical, strange visit. He cannot kiss me, because that takes the two of us.
The water pours over me, my muscles are hard and aching from my workout, I’m hot and wet and John is fucking me at the gym.
I gasp and groan and simply stand there, while John makes love to me by making love to himself. His hands roam all over my body. He strokes me and caresses me and prods me and pinches me. His dick, strong and thick and firm, pushes itself again and again inside me and he nudges that place inside, the perfect place where explosions of pleasure radiate out and I gasp and my dick bulges and throbs and I start pumping fat fountains of cream against the tile, over and over, again and again.
Later this week, I’m in bed, asleep, and I start having the most erotic dream about John.
We’re naked, together, and his hands travel all over my body, in the most intimate fashion. There is no place left unexplored, no erogenous zone he doesn’t find and pleasure, no erotic act he doesn’t mine for all its worth. He pushes his fingers inside my ass and then I feel them, warm and wet, travel over my naked skin and they push inside my mouth. I can taste myself, funky and musky, my own wet manliness on his fingers in my mouth.
I taste like him.
His dick is huge, kissing its fat blossom of a head against my lips, spreading a warm smear of pre-cum before pushing inside, forcing my jaw wider and wider to accommodate its superhuman girth. Is he growing even bigger? Is his cock swelling larger than ever?
I feel it push inside my mouth, rubbing its hot, hard shank against my tongue, leaking salty honey down the back of my throat. He fills my mouth with his meat and I wrap my hand around the thick inches he can’t fit inside and stroke him, may hand can’t even fully grip his huge cock and he suddenly swells even fatter and a sudden hot gush of cum erupts from his prick, bathing my whole mouth with the taste of his spunk, and I feel him swell again and deliver another creamy load and again and again, pumping thick deliveries into my mouth, directly down my throat, and I feel his ample and exquisite load warm me from the inside.
I wake because I feel hot wet splatters on my belly and chest and I have come all over myself, sweating atop my sheets, my dick hard as a rock and pulsing with dull thuds as it calms down, the tip still drooling pearlescent cum onto my belly.
I am breathing hard and gripping my sheets and I can still taste him in my mouth.
I turn over and grab at my phone and send him a text, because I know he is up.
“Come in tomorrow. I need to see you.”
He responds with a series of emoji kisses followed by an eggplant and a small splash.
I am not sure what I will say to him when he shows up. In truth, I’m not angry or upset with him at all, I merely want to voice my…frustration with his timing. But somewhere in the back of my head I also wonder how much he is controlling me, now. Should I be angry? Should I be upset? Should I be the “dad” here and explain to him that he cannot simply do whatever he wishes?
A new sensation washes over me suddenly as I await John’s arrival. Not the physical sensation of his hands on me, or his mouth on my dick, or his cock in my ass. It is something both more subtle and more overwhelming. It is like warmth, like moving inside on a cold day and being surrounded by the heat of a home, but it is less tactile and more…emotional. More sensual.
The sensation is immediately perceptible and it surrounds me completely. Like a hug or an embrace or being wrapped in a blanket—but the blanket is made of sex.
That’s what it is! Sex! A deeply sexual sensation that washes over me and makes my skin hot. I is exactly that sensation, but separated from the activity, a sensation I had never realized before now because my body is caught up in all the physical sensation that I don’t—can’t—separate the emotional ones.
But here they are, all of them, and I feel immediately hot and hard and sexy myself.
John opens my door. I didn’t even hear him approach.
“Hi, Doc,” he says. The sensation of sex swells and I gasp and shake and come. “Nice to see you, too.”
I am overcome. “What…?”
“Yeah. Feels good, right? I was wondering what it would do.”
I am gasping for breath. My pants are filled with hot cum. “What…what would do?”
He circles around and stands in front of my desk. “I wanted to see what happens if I don’t do anything.” His handsome, gorgeous, beautiful face tilts slightly and he smiles. Locks of his silken hair fall over his eyes and he pushes them back behind his ear. His hair is long and luscious and thick, now. A shaggy wealth of silky strands that lies along his shoulders and is starting to drape down his wide, thick, muscular back.
“I don’t…I don’t understand.”
“You know. No, like, stroking or fucking or sucking. Just…this.”
He is simply standing there. He does not move, his hands at his sides, his demeanor calm, and I am suddenly—again—awash in sex. The sensation of sex. Pure, magnified, perfect sex.
I rise in my chair and my cock swells and I explode again, shoving another huge delivery of cum from my balls. John’s full, kissable lips smile and he his eyes twinkle like gems.
What is he doing? How is he doing this? What is this sensation?
“Dude,” he says, watching me experience an overwhelming orgasm, his eyes wide and excited, “that is amazing.” He smiles and another flow of sex washes over my entire body.
I am gasping and can’t speak. My sense are flooded with flawless, unfiltered, 100% solid sex. I smell it and taste it. My ears are ringing.
John is swelling now. I watch him growing teller and wider and thicker as his own arousal kicks in. He starts to slowly unbutton his shirt before he tears through it. His cock is extending by the inch in his jeans, inflating like a balloon, shoving sideways towards his hip.
“It’s something I discovered by accident,” he says, his eyes glued to me as he strips himself naked and his muscles bulge fatter and thicker and harder, his head rises towards the ceiling, his chest swells forward. He shrugs his shoulders to strip off his shirt and I watch his abs pop and his Adonis belt magnify and his nipples blossom like inky stains on the two massive globes of his pecs.
“It just sort of happened.” He undoes his belt and pops the button fly of his jeans and shoves his pants off his hips. Still growing. Bigger and bigger. Swelling with power. He shoves his hand inside his crotch and grabs his cock and starts to pull himself from the denim cage, grimacing with the effort. It is a snake, a fat serpent with a hissing head, and he extracts himself and the fat shank of it hangs forward with its own weight as the blood continues to pump into every inch of his cock-body.
“I was in class,” he says. “I sit in back. Less of a distraction that way, y’know? And I’m sort of thinking about you, Doc. I think about you a lot.” I know this to be true. Because I can feel him when he does. “And I was remembering that first time we fucked. That first time here, when you licked my hole and made me squirm, when you stroked my legs and kissed my butt and squeezed me and stroked me and fucked me.”
His prick is rising, throbbing with hard pulses. His arms are immense and swelling even bigger. Veins pop everywhere, all over his muscles, and his chest looks like two massive globes with cables of power stretched across them, inflating with strength. He wiggles his butt and his jeans fall from his body and he kicks them away, now naked and glorious and beautiful—and still swelling larger and larger.
“That’s all I was doing, Doc. Just thinking about that time. It was…amazing. Right, Doc? You felt it, too. I know you did. Fucking me. Kissing me. Feeling this body, feeling these muscles.” He raises his arms and flexes, making his muscles bulge into fat balls and cables under his thin skin.
That sensation again. Like warmth, but deeper. An embrace. Surrounded by sex.
He lowers his arms and moves his hands over his naked flash. He’s still growing. “I was daydreaming, because class was boring, and when you fuck me it’s never boring.” He turns around and my gaze falls to his ass. His perfect ass. Two marvelous muscular mounds jutting out inches from his narrow, tall frame. I have never seen another butt to match his. No other butt looks that good. How does he manage those two massive globes of muscle into his pants? John walks away from me, he knows I am looking at his ass, he knows I am watching those two mounds rise and fall as he walks towards the window.
The sex grows hot again and I come again, though this time I don’t know if it is because John is doing something—or just because of John’s butt. Hard mounds of beautiful strength he uses to shove that giant cock inside me.
“You like my ass, don’t you, Doc?” He turns his head slightly. “I’ve been working my glutes for you, Doc. I know you like a big ol’ booty.” He bends over and shoves his ass towards me and opens his crack, wiggles himself at me, shows me his pink, perfect pucker. “It’s all I’ve been doing lately. Squats and shit.” He moves his hand over the broad, thick perfection of his cheeks. “Gettin’ big and strong for you.” His hand moves towards his crack and he slides his middle finger towards his hole and he rubes himself.
And I can feel it. I feel his rough digit rubbing my asshole, circling and pushing and playing with me. It’s a weird and wonderful experience, seeing him doing it and feeling him doing it at the same time.
He straightens and lifts his arms and swells his shoulders and biceps and triceps into full bloom, again. My god, he is massive! “Or, bigger and stronger, I should say.”
Then he lowers his arms and continues his slow walk to the window, his ass bouncing and swaying.
“Anyway, I’m in class, thinking about us—thinking about you. Not paying attention. Then all the sudden I hear this noise and I kind of wake up or come out of it and, like, every dude in class is moaning and squirming and sort of gasping. Like, every dude in there, even the teacher.”
He stands at the window at full bloom. His body swollen to erection. His muscles pressing outward against his smooth, silky skin. His hair falls down his back, his shoulders stretch out a mile, his butt is fat and form and thick.
“Nobody knows it was me,” he said. “I mean, most of them. Probably a couple knew, the dudes I had sex with. Or, I guess I should say a few of them, not a couple.” He pulls in a long, deep breath and as he exhales, the wash of pure sex comes over me again and I shake and gasp and stifle a groan of pleasure. “So at first I don’t know what happened. But then Charlie,” he turns his head towards me, but doesn’t look at me, “You remember Charlie, Doc? Charlie tells me later that it was like an explosion in the room. A silent, powerful sex explosion.” He returned his gaze out the window and laughs softly, a deep rumble in that huge chest. “Of course I was all like, what the fuck? Right? What the fuck does that even mean, a sex explosion.”
He sighed and he started playing with one nipple, plucking it with his thumb, and I can feel it on my nipple, distinctly.
“Charlie said it felt like this heatwave in the room, and it felt like it came from me, like I was a fan or something sending out waves of hot air, only it wasn’t air, it was sex. And he asks me to try it on him. Just on him.” He pauses and another wave of sex envelopes me. It is just like he describes. He is a warm blast of sex in the room, palpable and distinct.
“And I made him come, like, hard! I mean, he, like, exploded! So he says—he’s like, gasping and shit, he’s like…shaken—he asks me to tone it down, whatever it is. So I do.” Another wave hits me. More subtle. More controlled. A gentle stroke of sex, not a bath or a shower of it. Like a whiff of the most gorgeous cologne—that smells exactly like John.
“I’ve been practicing a lot, Doc. I wanted to surprise you.”
The sex wave increases intensity. It wraps around me and clings to me and grasps my dick and sucks me and strokes me and fucks me, hotter and hotter.
“I practiced on Charlie. I practiced in class, seeing if I can, like, focus it, just down to one guy at a time. Then two. Can I, like, send it out to two dudes at opposite ends of the room? Can I make one dude come hard and not the other dude? Can I do it outside? How far away can I do it? And I practice and practice.
“Because you know what, Doc? It feels so good. It feels amazing. I guess it feels to me like it feels to you, maybe? At least, the way Charlie described it. And I can, like, combine it with the other thing, too. The thing where what I feel I can allow you to feel. So you can feel what it feels like when I fuck myself. Or suck my dick. Or stroke myself for hours until I finally explode.”
He turns toward me again, an eyebrow raised, some of that long, soft hair hanging across his handsome face.
“I think I’m getting pretty good at it.”
I grip the arms of my chair and throw my head back and my cock explodes, filling my pants with my load of cum, a fat thick flood coaxed from my balls and erupting like a volcano.
“Don’t you think so?”
“Oh, fuck,” I say.
He chuckles. “Yeah.” John is stroking his cock, fucking his hand, shifting his hips and flexing his ass, sliding his long, hard meat along his firm grip, squeezing himself and growing harder in reaction. I feel it on mine, his strokes, the strong tingles of sex. I’ve come hard already, but he’s not done. He’s not even started.
“You probably wonder how it works.” His mountainous shoulders shrug. “Not sure it matters. It’s like anything else you do, you know? It’s like breathing or thinking or…fucking.” A hard, sudden shock of sex erupts and I shoot another load. “Take your dick out, Doc.” Another wave of sex hits me. I come again. I’m pulling my pants open and my cock pops out and flings cum at my face. It strikes my lips and I like it inside.
“Yeah, Doc,” John praises. I feel a soothing sexual warmth all over. “We’re just getting started.”
It was dark. John was sitting in his usual chair, naked, stroking his thick inches. I was behind him, my hands on his shoulders, trying to massage the firmness of his muscles.
He was ridiculously hard, but his skin was slick and smooth. He was moaning and twisting his muscular neck and I could feel his strokes on my own dick. “Feels good, Doc.”
I wanted to talk to John about…us. About what was happening. About what he was doing to me.
Was he controlling me? Or did I want this—all this—and he was just fulfilling my desires? Who wouldn’t want this?
The sex was literally insane. I’m a psychologist, so I know! Insanity is a state of mind that prevents normal perception. It changes your behavior and has no logic. To be insane is to lose control of your mind, and that was certainly part of what John was doing to me.
He was able to…push sexual sensations into my head without any logical means, either physical or mental. The stimulation was purely external and didn’t stem from, for example, touching me, or showing me erotic images, or speaking words meant to arouse my libido.
It simply…happened. Sex poured from him into me, and it didn’t seem to need any stimulus whatsoever.
He claimed he didn’t know how it worked, but he obviously knew what he was doing. Maybe it was a new sixth sense, only instead of reading minds he was feeding minds. Instead of moving objects he was inflaming libidos.
And since he could already feel my own sensations and emotions, it was easy as pie for him to continually adjust and alter the sensations to keep me at the pinnacle of sexual stimulation.
“You’re thinking again,” he said. His voice was a deep growl, rough with desire.
“Mm hmm,” I agreed.
“I can tell when you’re thinking, because you don’t come through as clearly.”
“As clearly as what?”
“As when you’re feeling.”
“Is it just me?”
“That you feel.”
“Keep going,” he said, as I paused in my massaging. I started trying to knead his hard muscles again and he groaned, sending out a soothing wash of sex that wrapped around me. “No, but you’re the strongest. For sure. It might be….”
“It might be what?”
“No. Tell me.”
“So…I don’t want you to feel like you need to…what I mean is if I tell you something, it’s like I’m trying to get you to say something…but I kind of feel like….”
“You’re being circumspect.”
“I…kind of…I dunno...have feelings? For you? And, like, I know? You said that it sometimes happens between patients and doctors and whatever, and maybe the feelings are all, sort of, tangled up and shit, like, around mine because…I can…feel you? Like…really, really strong.”
He paused and was looking at the floor. I was still standing behind him, where he couldn’t see me. “Strongly,” I said.
“Strong is an adjective. The adverb is strongly.”
He chuckled and I felt his huge muscular body shaking. “Always teaching me new shit, aren’t you, Doc?”
I literally didn’t know what to say. Was John in love with me? Was I in love with John? Were my strong feelings for him—and I had them, deeply—were they, in his words, tangled up? Where did my feelings end and his begin? “It’s…confusing.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, “I get that.”
He twisted around to look at me. There was hope and desire and need in his gaze. “But?”
“I have feelings for you too, and….”
Before I could get another word out, he pushed himself up and pressed his lips against mine. A sudden, fulfilling, massive rush of what I can only describe as love washed over me.
Whether it was his or mine didn’t matter.
Because it was ours.
Obviously, some ground rules needed to be set. While I enjoyed when John was having his way with me (while he was having his way with himself) it was highly…inconvenient for me to feel like he was sucking my cock while I was with another patient, or on the subway, or walking to the corner for bread.
Ever spring a boner while you’re just walking along the sidewalk? Okay, but have you ever felt like you were receiving a very deep, very thorough, very eager blowjob while you were walking along the sidewalk? Feel a warm, firm hand surrounding your hard-on, feel it squeezing and milking you, feel it caressing your balls? Then, distinctly, you feel the warm wet kiss of lips against your cock head and a moment later half your dick is inside a sucking mouth, and you can feel his tongue bathing your cock with spit and he starts to jerk you off while sucking your dick?
Well, I have, and suffice it to say that the experience—while undoubtedly agreeable—is quite inconvenient, particularly when your dick gets so hard its outline is clearly visible through your pants and it’s throbbing and swelling and right on the verge of coming for, like, fifteen minutes.
John’s stamina is amazing. And also somewhat tiring! I was only human! I wasn’t granted the overload of chemical and hormonal gifts that John was born with, and that allowed him to sustain his sexual liaisons for almost unbelievable lengths.
I mean, he could just go and go and go…and go! And then go some more! I’m not sure sex was meant to last for an hour, let alone two! And I’m not talking the foreplay and the afterglow and the teasing and the prodding. No, I’m saying that John could fuck you for two hours! And he could do it while coming several times—or not coming at all and then exploding with so much cum it would leave you wondering if his whole body was just filled up with the stuff.
I started worrying about my own physical well-being. How could my body keep up with this near-constant sexual stimulation? I saw my MD and he reported that things were not only looking great, things were looking amazing. My blood pressure was down, my heart rate was low (expect when, during the examination, I could suddenly feel John’s hand moving up and down my torso, his fingers rubbing and pinching my nipples, his other hand cupping my balls and then rubbing against my taint before making small circles around my butt hole and gently finger-fucking me—I sprang a huge boner but the doctor only commented that it, too, looked “unusually healthy”) and overall he said I had never been healthier and that “whatever it is you’re doing, keep it up!”
He then glanced at my over-exuberant erection, throbbing with hard pulses and turning beet-red and shiny as John’s invisible hands continued to stimulate me, and I think he even winkedI determined, though, that at our next session, I would definitely put my foot down! Or my dick away. Or something.
John was still sending me filthy selfies and sexts that left absolutely nothing to my imagination—as if I needed my imagination to know what he was doing. He clearly enjoyed that he could manipulate me so thoroughly, and I have to admit that I enjoyed receiving these pornographic messages as much as he enjoyed sending them to me.
But, fuck! I was getting worn outThen, suddenly, something changed. John was still sending me his sexual signals, but there was a sudden tapering a couple of days prior to our next session and I have to say I missed having him around me all the time, even if he technically wasn’t around me at all.
Had something happened? Was John okay? I tapped at my phone and sent him a message, simply asking if everything at his end was all right and I was worried that I hadn’t “heard from you in a while.”
He answered back almost immediately, and his response was accompanied by a new sensation even more profound than anything he’s demonstrated so far.
“sorry” he texted. “been busy”
Holy fuck! It was like…like…like I was suddenly in an orgy or something! I mean, I’d never actually participated in an orgy but I have to assume that what I was feeling then had to approach the sensation of several people all having sex with you at the same timeClearly John was busy with someone—or several someones—and he’s managed to take his phone in hand while paused in the action and now I nearly fainted or swooned from the dramatic upswing in sexual sensations that were occurring…everywhereI felt the unmistakable thick, hot splatter of cum on my face. I felt a dick in my ass. Or was it two? Or one HUGE one? I could recognize John’s cock easily, but this was like someone had slipped a whole salami up my butt, and I could feel every vein on its shaft and the flaring ridge of its fat, helmeted head as it nudged and rubbed against my prostate. Kisses on my lips and on my cock and on my belly. A thick, rough thumb rubbing the head of my dick, back and forth, over and over. A tongue bathing my butt hole in warm spit. Hands fucking everywhereIt was a good thing I was already sitting down or I might have collapsed right there. It was even better than I was alone in my office because I practically tore my clothes off my suddenly overheated body and sank deeply into this overwhelming sensation of sex.
Our next session approached and I could feel him coming, feels that now-familiar sensation of sex like a wave of heat as he approached. He was giving it off like a fog around him, he was pulsing with it, and I wondered if everyone could feel it or just me?
It was faint at first, and perhaps it was because he wasn’t pointing it directly at me. Maybe he just gave it off constantly now, a pulsing sensation of sex that emanated from him in subtle waves until he concentrated his power on a target. He was overflowing with sex, he simply could not contain it or didn’t want to.
I opened the door and he smiled and wrapped his strong, muscular arms around me and pushed his mouth against mine and used his tongue to pry my lips apart and wrestled with my own. The warmth of sex surged inside me and that sensation of his, that feeling of love, wrapped me up in its power.
His hands were already undoing my belt and unzipping my pants and he dug inside and his rough hands found my dick and he squeezed me. “Wanna feel my new trick?” he asked, pausing our passionate kiss, his voice deep and gruff and sexy.
I nodded, because of course I did.
And then it started up. It started up everywhere. My body was being pleasured in ways I never knew it could be. John’s hand was on my dick and I swelled and hardened as he kissed me, and I felt my cock bulge and throb and lengthen in record time.
And I felt someone’s tongue bathing my asshole. I could feel it distinctly. I could feel the wet warmth and the pliant muscle of the tongue licking and poking me, coating my tender hole with spit.
I felt a prick pushing its head at my butt, wanting inside, and then broaching my tightness and sliding up my ass deeper and deeper.
I felt teeth against my nipple, a different tongue playing with the rubbery nub. Someone slapped my ass and caressed it at the same time.
Someone pulled my hair. Someone nibbled my earlobe. Someone licked my inner thigh. Someone came on my belly.
It was all happening simultaneously and all John did was stand there and kiss me.
How was he doing this? I had no doubt it was him. And then I could feel him start to swell, to rise, to enlarge, I could feel his muscles engorging with power, pushing outward and testing the limits of his clothes.
He broke the kiss and moved his lips to my ear. “You like this, don’t you?” he asked. “You like to feel me growing. You like to feel my muscles swell. You like to feel me getting bigger and bigger, stronger and stronger.”
I couldn’t answer him. I was overwhelmed with sensations. No part of my body was left untouched by whatever he was doing—could do now.
“This is all for you, Doc. All for you. Everything I ever felt. Everything I ever did. I have it all now, and I can give it to you whenever I want to. Or whenever you want to. All it takes is a memory, Doc. And I keep it all. And give it all away.”
The sensations redoubled. The cock in my ass swelled. It was a different cock from a different lover, rougher and harder and deeper, thrusting inside me. The mouth on my dick suddenly plunged all the way to my pubes, swallowing me utterly. I could feel the weight of a man’s body—feel the hard plated of his prominent pecs, the cobblestone perfection of his abs, the warmth of the fur on his torso—against my body. My cock was inside a tight, wet, hot butt, and inside a talented, eager mouth, fucked and sucked simultaneously.
His arms were wrapped around me, swelling with more muscle. He squeezed me against his body as he grew harder and thicker, inflating like a cock engorged with sex. His stubbled cheek moved against mine, his lips brushing my ear, his breath warm on my neck.
“I practiced,” John whispered, “I wanted this to be perfect.”
His clothes ripped from his body. He was pulsing with heat and sex. His mighty and majestic cock was pushing itself between us, rising higher and higher. It was hot and hard and getting bigger and bigger.
My hand reached down and found his perfect ass. He was even bigger than before, two huge muscular mounds and I could feel them enlarging as I held them, caressed them, kneaded them.
He moaned and kissed me hard and hungrily, shoving his tongue inside my mouth. A dick came inside me, shoving thick deliveries of hot cum in my guts, swelling even larger as it came.
It was insane. It was overwhelming. Every act of sexual bliss occurring simultaneously, bathing my with hot, sticky cum, pushing itself inside me, stroking me, kissing me, sucking me.
He was unleashed and wild and unstoppable.
He was still swelling and growing, his arms growing bigger, his chest inflating and pushing against me, his ass pushing my hands apart, expanding my grip as he continued growing towards his ultimate power.
He kissed me again and again, pouring his passion into each one, sending cascades of warm sex that shook me to my core.
I felt myself surrendering to his sexual mastery. It was too strong, too big, too powerful. I shook with perfect bliss, submitting entirely to John.
He squeezed me in his strong embrace. His cock was a hot, hard rod of sex pulsing and throbbing with need and lust, drooling streams of pre-cum that heated our embrace, scented with the gorgeous masculine tang of his powerful musk.
“Gonna come,” he groaned. “Gonna come so fucking hard. Gonna explode….”
John was sitting in his chair in his usual relaxed position, one leg thrown over the chair’s arm and the other extended before him. His majestic and awe-inspiring cock, a huge veiny stalk of sex bulging and throbbing, weeping streams of honey, pulsed like a tower rising from his loins as he slowly stroked himself, the slick sound of his grip sliding along the fat inches the only sound in the room.
He was looking at me and smiling, his handsome face tilted slightly.
I was…exhausted. Spent. Worn out. The office was growing dark and the lights in the parking lot outside the windows were blinking into life. I was naked, too, like John, and my prick was throbbing from the subtle, constant waves of pure sex that John was still releasing. I’m sure I would’ve been feeling randy just looking at his perfectly beautiful naked body, anyway, but it seemed like now he was simply always pulsing with sex, it was just part of him.
I was coated with cum—both his and mine. It was on my chest and belly and shoulders and neck and face. I could still taste it on my lips and tongue where I had licked it off his body.
I was trying to just…deal with what just happened. Trying to sort out the wealth of emotions and sensations I had experienced in the course of John’s influence over my brain and my body. Fleeting memories were erupting like fires all over me, of the dicks I felt in my ass, of my dick inside so many other asses, the mouths on my cock and my balls and my body, the hands stroking me, squeezing me, caressing me.
I tried forming questions or just words, but I was still overwhelmed.
And John just sat there, looking at me, stroking his ever-ready hard-on, smiling.
“What does it feel like?” I finally said, my words rough and quiet.
John’s brow furrowed. “What does what feel like?”
I leaned up. “When you’re doing it. Doing all of it. For you, what does it feel like?”
“Probably the same as for you? I guess?” He looked at his monster prick, grasping the fat shank in one hand while the other started rubbing the helmet, drawing forth new, copious streams of warm pre-cum. “It feels good. I can feel it all, and I just…let you feel it, too.”
“So all of that, it was all real?”
“What do you mean?”
“Those were all…other guys? Other guys’ asses and other guy’s cocks and….”
He was nodding. “And other guy’s mouths and other guy’s hands.” He shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”
“Dudes? I dunno. Like…twenty? Thirty?” He shrugged again.
In only a week? John was having sex at least four times a day—or with four different lovers a day. He truly was insatiable. A walking erection, indeed.
“I mean, it’s not like I forgot their names or anything. If you wanted me to I could, like, tell you that this…” He looked at me and I felt a dick pushing against my hole, again, rubbing its warm tip against me and then pushing inside all at once. “That’s Jeremy’s dick. While this…” Another cock. A different cock. A fatter cock, sliding in and out of my hole. “That’s Carl. Big fat dick. Soft lips.”
The sensation of someone fucking me suddenly dissipated. I swallowed drily and my head was spinning. It was so easy for him to do that, and it felt so real and satisfying. I couldn’t tell the difference between getting fucked by Carl or having John provide it to me through his…whatever it was he was now capable of doing.
“I only gave you the very best, Doc. Like, picked out the best cocks and the best asses and the best kisses. The more I fuck, the bigger my…like…database, right? By next week, who knows? Might have some all-new and better fucks to give.” He looked at his towering dick again, “That is, as long as I don’t get too big. Some dudes, they can’t take me. Probably need to, like, spread out my targets more. Advertise for some more talented bottoms online, show ‘em a picture of this and see who wants it most.” He wagged his giant dick at me, flinging drops of honey around the office.
My curiosity got the best of me. “Who’d the best lover you’ve been with?”
He smiled and his eyes lit up. “Really? I thought that was obvious.”
He released his grip from his erection and stood up. He was at his full power now. His muscles were swollen and bulging. Fat veins, thick as pencils, pulsed and throbbed over the hard mountains of power. His cock was red and shiny, hard as steel. His whole body, a towering bronze statue of masculine perfection, throbbed with desire.
He came around my desk and sank to his knees and pushed his lips against mine.
All I felt was John, this time. No other bodies or dicks or asses interfered with the sensation of my lips pressed to his.
He put his hand around my neck—his palm was warm and strong—and pulled me to him. An overwhelming heat and passion cascaded through my whole body. It grew and swelled like he did, and my dick was painfully hard again.
“It’s you, Doc,” he said, looking into my eyes. “Nobody else feels as good as you do.” Then John went down and swallowed my hard-on. And then I had another cock, with another mouth on it. And another. And another. And another….
I didn’t want to, but Spring Break and a psychiatric conference kept John and me apart for three weeks. I didn’t feel from him for that entire time, though I was unsure whether that was because the unusual distance separating us was too far for his connection to me to work, or if he was busy doing more…research.
I told him, honestly, that I wanted him to be with others. I encouraged it, as long as he was safe. There was no way that an ordinary man like me was ever going to be physically capable of satisfying his overwhelming and seemingly endless sexual appetite, and it was beneficial to both of us for him to, as he put it, “expand his fuck database” by gathering as many examples of other men’s bodies and asses and cocks that he could insert into his ever-growing repertoire of erotic powers.
I was almost frightened by the possibilities of John’s hold and control over me, but I was excited and curious at the same time. Who would not enjoy the sensation—one that felt as real as if it were truly happening—of owning multiple cocks all being sucked and fucked and stroked and squeezed at the same time? I’m sure you can try to imagine what that might feel like, if you suddenly had not one but a dozen fat, long, thick, hard pricks extending from your groin and each of them was capable delivering the pure sensations of bliss as they were simultaneously stimulated and pumping endless streams of cum.
And that was all happening as you merely sat there, in your room, in your chair, suddenly delivered to the heights of sensual and sexual bliss by your superhuman lover’s incredible mental powers.
Even so, I ached for us to be together again, because even with the enormous satisfaction that John’s sex vibes delivered, there was simply nothing better than actually being with him.
He sent me sexts as usual. At first he kept up his usual pace, issuing a dozen a day. I had to turn my phone off at night or the images and videos he sent me non-stop of his body and his cock and his ass and him sucking his own dick or stroking its fat inches or pumping thick loads of cum would never stop. He’d talk filthy to me about his butt or his cock or my ass or my cock and I would have to try getting off for the fourth time in a day or my hard-on would never abate. My balls were pumped dry, but it feltso good.
Did he sleep? Was he just a non-stop fuck machine on a constant search for the next butt to fuck or mouth to feed his monster into? It certainly seemed like it, though it was probably more that he took these pictures of his escapades and saved them up for me, trying his damnedest to keep my own cock throbbing and leaking pre.
For those three weeks, it seemed like John was expanding his sexual dictionary by chapters, at least judging by the images and videos he was sending me. Black men, white men, Asian men, Hispanic men, tall men, short men, muscular men, fat men, thin men, hairy men, hairless men. It was probably not surprising that someone with John’s looks, and with John’s cock, and with John’s body was able to attract pretty much anyone and everyone. And I was a little bit proud that he seemed so open-minded about his choice of partners. Then about a week and half into our mutual break, the sexts stopped and I wondered what was going on at his end. Had he found someone knew that had captured his interests? Was it possible that there was another man on the planet capable of keeping up with his quickly inflating sexual powers and appetites?
It turned out that there was much more going on, and I would find out soon after returning to our sessions.
My heart was racing in anticipation of seeing John again. I was sitting in my office and I was already sweating, even though it wasn’t particularly warm. I still hadn’t heard from him in any of the usual methods (texts or sexts or sexual sensations he could beam into my head) so I didn’t even know if he’d turn up. Patients do that sometimes, though rarely, and I doubted John would simply vanish. I believed that his feelings for me were as deep as mine ran for him.
But love is fickle and when you’re young, your head can turn so easily.
At last I heard the heavy thump of footfalls in the hallway, but they seemed without his usual rhythm. I realized, then, that what I was hearing were two sets of feet approaching my door, and my heart sped up even faster.
Was he coming in to introduce his new lover? Was that why he had grown so silent, and now he wanted to show off the new man in his life to the old one he was going to discard?
I closed my eyes and tried to remain calm. It was scary to feel this way about him, and I knew very clearly that I loved him very much, and I didn’t want to lose him. I didn’t care, as these fears grabbed me tightly, that he was my patient and I was his doctor. I needed him, now, and not just for the sexual aspects of our relationship.
Even though, truthfully, sex with others after having John show me what sex with him was like was bound to be a letdown.
There was a tap at the door and I said, “Come in, John.”
The door opened and I could smell him. His scent was strong and musky and redolent of sex. It washed over me like heat and I sucked it inside my lungs and my dick swelled and throbbed. Then his strong, large hands were on my shoulders and he leaned down and the heat of his body grew intense and powerful and he said, “Long time, no see,” and he kissed my cheek.
I turned towards him and my heart nearly exploded with joy and lust and need. How could I have forgotten how beautiful he was? Or had he grown even more handsome in only three weeks’ time? His eyes sparkled and his skin was silky and smooth. His strong, masculine jawline was now featuring a thick, handsome beard that seemed to further accentuate his masculine beauty, and it looked as if he’d been tanning along with whatever else he had occupied his three weeks with.
He leaned in again and pressed his lips to mine and pushed his tongue inside my mouth and I moaned and swooned and my cock surged and lengthened with incredible speed.
He smiled into the kiss, perhaps recognizing my unsubtle reaction to him, and he put his warm hand behind my neck and pulled my mouth to his and the kiss deepened further, and I could hardly breathe from the intensity.
Then someone else cleared their throat and a male voice, higher than John’s, said, “If you two want to be alone, just say so,” and John laughed softly and pulled his gorgeous face from mine, smiling. “I seem to have forgotten my manners in my haste to say hello to my doctor.”
He straightened and I looked up at him. His clothes were skin-tight against his muscular frame, signaling that his unique sexually-stimulated growth was kicking in. He wore a white Oxford shirt and the sleeves were swollen with muscles, the seams already starting to pull themselves apart. The buttons on his chest were threatening to burst free as his pecs engorged with power and swelled forward, deepening the crevasse between the mountains of raw brawn. I could see his frame slowly growing taller, and his shoulders were spreading wider and higher.
“Have I ever mentioned my friend Ray?” I could hardly discern the words he was saying. His voice was like a cock pushing into my libido, dripping with cum. Each words was licking my sex drive and my cock was now painful erect in my trousers. He started to disrobe, plucking the buttons on his shirt open and revealing his godlike perfection in slow motion.
He had gotten a tan, and it made him look like he had been dipped in bronze. His blue eyes looked brighter against his darker skin, more turquoise now, and his teeth were blindingly white when he smiled. While his skin had grown darker, his hair had grown lighter, and longer still, a cascade of gold with silver highlights that he tossed behind his broadening shoulders with familiar ease. His broad, magnificent chest was furrier than before, with a trail of manly curls sitting in the center of his six-pack and then spreading wider and thicker above his loins.
No one had a right to be as beautiful as John was, and now that he was swelling with muscle and his head was rising towards the ceiling as his erectile tissue performed its magic all over his body, it seemed like his beauty and masculinity was swelling with equal speed. The extra fur on his body made me want to run my fingers through that warm, soft forest, and stick my nose into the deepening cleft between his pecs and breathe him inside me.
I pulled my gaze from this magically beautiful creature and looked behind me. There was another young man, stunning in his own way, standing in the open doorway. He had chocolate skin and liquid brown eyes surrounded by long dark lashes and a closely-shaven scalp. His lips were full and kissable and he was wearing a white cotton tank top and a pair of tight, indigo jeans. I tried not to look at his crotch but those pants seemed almost designed to frame what was obviously an ample prick, long and thick, with a prominent mushroom head. It was curled like a crescent moon in the bulge of his jeans and as I gazed at it for a heartbeat, it pulsed and swelled.
I raised my eyes again and he was looking at me very confidently, his hands in his back pockets and a half-smile on those full, soft lips. “Hello, Dr. Lawrence,” he said, and he pushed his hand forward, “I’m Rafiq. But you can call me Ray, if you want.” The muscles on his arm bulged and flexed and I leaned forward and started to get up, when my hard cock complained painfully in my own groin and I winced.
He laughed slightly, said, “I know the feeling,” and walked forward to shake my hand. His grip was firm, powerful, and as confident as his demeanor.
“I’m happy to meet you,” I said.
He glanced down at the tent in my pants and said, “Obviously.”
“No worries,” he replied, and then he walked around my desk and stood behind John, who was still stripping off his clothes as his body continued its wonderful, impossible evolution to his fully aroused state. Rafiq stood behind John and was watching his friend swelling with size and muscle. John’s engorging body blocked my view, which I regretted because I was wondering about that snake in Rafiq’s pants, but then John was pulling his zipper open and hauling out his own monster and I forgot all about his dark-skinned friend as I watched John’s mammoth appendage lengthen and thicken with mind-bending speed.
“Are you…bigger?” I asked, dumbfounded. Because it looked like his prick was surpassing my memories of his size and taking on all-new impossible dimensions.
John smiled and shrugged his mountainous shoulders. “Maybe. Haven’t had a lot of time to measure lately.” He reached down and wrapped his huge paw around the swelling neck of his python, rubbing his thumb against its veiny surface as it pushed his fingers wider. Now that he was naked, it was obvious that John’s new tan was all over his body, and even his dick looked golden.
He pulled in a long, slow breath and his mammoth chest expanded—and then just kept right on expanding.
“I’ll never get tired of watching that,” Rafiq said with a sexual growl. I heard a slap and realized that Rafiq had attached his hand to John’s backside and was kneading his friend’s ass with easy and obvious familiarity.
That explained one thing, at least. Now I knew who John had been keeping time with, particularly when John pivoted around (my god, his ass! His ass is so, so beautiful) and wrapped Rafiq in his swelling arms and bent his head on his muscular neck and started to kiss him passionately.
Did I feel jealous? Of course! I wanted to be that man! It had been weeks since he held me in his muscular arms and pulled me against his powerful body and I felt the intense heat and powerful firmness of his cock pulsing against me. His strong, virile scent was now even more intense, filling the room with his redolent, masculine aroma and I was about to say something myself when something else caught my eye over his expanding shoulder muscles and my breath caught in my throat and I think my heart stopped.
Because within his embrace, in the middle of that kiss, I could see Rafiq’s head slowly, very slowly, rising.
I assumed at first that John was simply lifting him into his arms to make the kiss easier, but it became clear that what was actually happening was that Rafiq was growing, tooI heard a deep, masculine moan, and then another. The two young men were obviously enjoying each other. But I had questions, and it was my turn to clear my throat and draw some attention to the fact that someone else was in the room. Otherwise I had no doubt at all that some serious fucking was going to get underway immediately, and it wouldn’t involve me.
It was with obvious reluctance that John drew his lips from Rafiq’s, and then he stepped back and turned, throwing his swelling arm across his friend’s shoulders and now I was looking at two human males both swelling taller and thicker and more muscular by the second. John’s growth was pronounced and obvious, his muscles blooming like rising bread dough under his tanned skin with pencil-thick veins popping up to feed his development.
Rafiq’s was much less pronounced but obvious nonetheless. He had not taken the time to strip himself from his outfit, and the ribbed cotton athletic shirt was pulling its hem free from the waistband of his jeans as his height increased little by little. His bare arms were swelling with increasing muscular power, and his chest slowly but continually inflated forward. He was smiling, too, and he lowered his hand to adjust himself in his jeans, drawing my attention to the growth that was simultaneously occurring down there, as well.
John looked over and at his growing pal and said, “Aw, you spoiled the surprise.” Then he kissed him on the cheek, playfully.
Rafiq’s brow furrowed and he said, “I literally couldn’t help myself.”
“Hold on,” I said, standing up. My dick was trying to burst my zipper open and a delivered a shock of pain that made me wince. I looked at the two of them, watching John swelling at probably four times the speed and size of Rafiq, who was also still getting bigger.
“Yeah,” John said, his hand hanging down onto Rafiq’s expanding pec and plucking his friend’s prominent nipple, “he’s growing, too.”
“How…? When…? Why…?”
John shrugged. “You’re the doctor,” he said, his voice deepening as his vocal chords stretched, “you tell us.”
John was grinning like a little boy who had a secret, and his huge cock throbbed and inflated larger and larger, pushing its dripping head over his six…, no, his eight-pack abs and towards the deepening fold between his mammoth and still-swelling pecs. He was still playing with Rafiq’s nipple—causing his friend’s prick to lengthen and thicken inside its jeans-clad cage, and set his other hand to start stroking his own cock, making slick wet sounds as he coated its thick inches in his ample supply of musky, lubricating pre-cum.
This was…beyond belief. I mean, at this point I’d grown comfortable with what John’s body and brain were capable of, having experienced his physical and mental powers firsthand, but for some reason watching another young man growing left me dumbfounded.
Rafiq was looking pained and said, “Does anyone mind if I get naked? Things are getting kinda…tight.”
John looked over, kissed him, and said, “I think we’d both prefer if you were naked, Ray. In fact, lemme help you.”
John took his arm off of Rafiq’s shoulders and dropped to his knees, moving in front of his friend and starting to undo his jeans. All I could see was John’s expanding back, the mind-bending array of muscles all swelling and expanding and growing larger and larger as his fingers pulled down Rafiq’s zipper. It was like watching puppies under a blanket, as his magnificent and powerful muscles all flexed and danced under his bronzed skin. His shining mane of thick, beautiful hair hung like a curtain nearly to his ass, cascading down his back like a waterfall.
John was shoving Rafiq’s jeans off his hips and then pushing his boxers off his body and though I still couldn’t see what was going on, the wet sounds of sucking and John’s bobbing head told me all I needed to know.
“Fuck,” Rafiq said softly. His eyes rolled up in their sockets and he was biting his pillowy lower lip. His hands settled onto John’s still swelling shoulders and it looked like he was hanging on for dear life as John began to deliver one of his patented and super-effective blow jobs.
Rafiq’s growth looked like it was finally subsiding, and he was filling out that white tank top like it had been designed for a small child. He was probably six inches taller than when he’d walked in, and it looked like his body had packed on a good twenty or thirty extra pounds of rock-solid brawn. He couldn’t compare at all to John’s staggering development, and though he was on his knees while sucking Rafiq’s cock, it seemed to me as though he was already bigger than ever,and still growing.
Rafiq took his hands from John’s shoulders—it must have been like trying to squeeze rocks—and started to pull his top off, but it was so tight on his body now that out of frustration or annoyance or lust, he simple ripped it off his body and let it drop to the carpet. He then applied his fingers to two of the biggest, fattest, supplest nipples I’d ever seen and began to twist and pinch himself, driving his libido into orbit and causing his body to jerk and spasm with intense sexual bliss.
He sucked in a sudden breath and swallowed hard and announced. “I’m gonna come. Oh fuck, I’m gonna fucking come!”
John never stopped. He set one large hand against Rafiq’s rippled abdominals, petting his body with slow, loving strokes, and continued to suck and suck and suck on what I could only imagine was a hard-on of epic proportions. His other hand was reaching under and between Rafiq’s legs and he was either massaging his nuts to draw forth every drop of cum he had in him, or pushing one fat finger inside Rafiq’s asshole and nudging his prostate with shocks of pleasure.
Knowing John’s large talented hands, it was probably both.
“Fuck,” Rafiq said, again. “Holy fuck.” Then his whole body shuddered and he stretched his head on his neck, opening his mouth and gulping in air as he apparently delivered several fat gushes of cream directly to John’s eager and hunger mouth. John sucked and slurped and moaned as he swallowed it all, even drawing his mouth from Rafiq’s prick and allowing his friend to squirt his load like a fountain. I swear I could hear two or three wet jets of cream splash against the back of John’s throat, making me gasp in wonder at the power of Rafiq’s delivery.
Then John was licking off his friend’s prick, cleaning up every drop of cum he could get before rising to his feet, bending his mouth to his friend’s lips and offering Rafiq a taste of his own cum with a deep, wet, passionate kiss.
At some point during their engagement I had unzipped my pants and allowed my aching prick free, even though I had no memory of doing it. I had become so engaged with what I was watching that my own actions were like a dream.
I was hard as a rock and weeping pre. My strokes were wet and slick and drew John’s attention from Rafiq’s mouth. He twisted his head around and looked at me, standing behind my desk with my dick in my hand. “You need some help with that, Doc?”
I was speechless and said nothing. I may have nodded.
“Looks like Doc could use a hand, Ray.” Rafiq licked his lips and nodded. “Why don’t you show him what you can do?”
“You don’t wanna…?”
“Oh, don’t worry. We have hours ahead of us and if there’s one thing I know about the Doc, it’s that he has enormous staying power when I help him along.”
Then I felt John’s familiar power swelling inside my head. God, how I missed this feeling, when John took control and somehow managed to keep me right on the edge of explosion while he did whatever he wanted to with me.
As John stepped aside, I got my first full look at Rafiq’s naked body.
I would have come then and there if John wasn’t holding me in his sexual grasp. He was not as huge and overwhelmingly muscular as John, who was, in fact, still growing! But his body was athletic and muscular and his skin was like chocolate milk, shiny and lickable.
And his prick! My god! It was…enormous! A thick stalk of dark brown topped with a pink head cloaked in a tight foreskin that allowed just the small, supple mouth to peek through. He was still erect, and throbbing, and it reached at least a foot high and as thick as a Coke bottle. His balls were fat, as large as hen’s eggs, and dangled long in his scrotum.
His upper body was an insane taper, because his waist was absurdly narrow but his shoulders and lats were absurdly wide. He was built like a gymnast, sleek and powerful, and as he walked towards me he looked like a starving man.
He was probably six inches taller than I was, and I looked at his handsome face as he looked down at my throbbing cock. He licked his thick, soft lips and then he met my gaze and smiled. “Hello, Doctor Lawrence,” he said.
He reached forward and wrapped his hand around my dick and squeezed. “May I suck your cock, Doctor Lawrence?”
“Ray’s very polite,” John remarked. My patient moved towards his usual seat and sat his fine, perfect ass down, throwing one long, muscular leg over one arm and then his dick was bending itself over like a snake, with its drooling, bulbous head moving unerringly toward his own asshole. John was going to fuck himself while watching his friend Rafiq suck on his doctor’s throbbing prick. John started to fill my head with his sexual power, and I felt his dick pushing against my own hole and I felt his lips on my lips and his hands on my body and the strong, constant, unrelenting sensation of sex everywhere.
“Yes,” I answered to both of them. Rafiq smiled and reached for my cock, wrapping his warm grip around me and stroking me slowly. He leaned forward and pushed his mouth against mine. His lips were also warm, but soft, and agile, and his tongue was long and wet and powerful. His put his other hand behind my neck and held my lips to his, as he continued to slowly, purposely, lovingly stroke my hardness, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the helmet of my prick and rubbing my pre all over. I could smell him, now, his natural earthy funk different than John’s and competing for my attention.
He moved his hand from my neck and began to undo the buttons of my shirt. Then his mouth was moving down my body, his soft lips kissing my neck, my shoulder, my chest, my nipple, my belly, by pelvis, my cock.
Soft kisses on my cock as he stroked my hardness. His warm, wet tongue dragging along every inch of my prick, base to tip, stem to stern, then he plunged his mouth over my cockhead and I pushed inside, grasping his head with my hands and fucking his face with long-repressed urgency.
He was…very good. Very, very good. Maybe having gone down on John’s enormous meaty tool with regularity, mine was just an appetizer. But he was eager and hungry and talented, and I felt my load building almost from the moment he swallowed me, but John would have none of that. He used his unusual psychic sexual talent to keep me edging for minutes on end as Rafiq tried his damnedest to make me explode inside his mouth.
My toes curled and I broke out in a sweat and I gasped and groaned and squeezed with unabated delight as Rafiq’s mouth and hands urged me towards filling his mouth with hot cream.
And suddenly I was in heaven, again.
John finally allowed me to come after Rafiq worked up a good sweat, and it felt like I hadn’t come in weeks. Or months. It felt like I was shoving ropes of cum inside Rafiq’s mouth, fat gouts of thick, hot cream he squeezed from my aching balls in long, thick ropes I pumped directly down his throat and into his belly. He gulped and swallowed and licked it all up like a man starving for it, squeezing and teasing my cock until I had nothing left to give him.
I was shaking and gasping, nearly wiped out from the intensity of the sexual pleasure that these two young men delivered in conjunction—Rafiq’s real physical manifestations concentrated on my cock and balls and taint and butt, and John sending his continual stream of sexual sensations and images to my brain. The real and the unreal combined to pretty much wipe me out and as Rafiq stood back up, wiped his lips, kissed me, and turned towards where John was fucking himself. I collapsed into my chair, physically and mentally exhausted.
But Rafiq wasn’t. His prick was still a rock hard column of sex, throbbing with need and desire, drooling thick rivers of honey. He needed his own pent-up cargo, bulging in his low-hanging balls, to be relieved again. I’d watched him pump his load into John’s eager mouth once aleady, but it was plain to see that he was more than ready for round two.
I sat in my chair and watched Rafiq slowly circle around my desk and move towards where John’s massive muscular bulk was sitting. By now, John had reached his fully aroused physical form, and he looked gigantic.
He had to have been working out steadily since I left, because now his fully engorged body would easily outclass any bodybuilder on the planet, both in size and perfection of development. His dick, a magical and pliable length of flexing muscle, was busy pushing itself in and out of his ass with long strokes, making wet sucking noises as he fucked himself. His eyes were heavy as he watched the naked dark-skinned form of his smaller friend’s athletic body approach.
“Yeah,” he growled. “I’m ready for you.”
Rafiq stood in front of John and moved towards him, stroking his own hard-on. Rafiq’s ass was mesmerizing, two thick globes of power that flexed as he walked, smooth and dark, jutting outward like two bowls attached to his backside. He lifted one leg and straddled John in the chair, pushing his erection forward and pointing it towards John’s mouth.
I watched John fuck himself as he welcomed Rafiq’s long, thick dick between his lips and began to suck his friend’s cock for the second time today.
And then I could feel it, too. I could feel Rafiq’s hot, thick, veiny, steel-hard prick sliding into my mouth. I could feel John’s enormous, muscular cock pushing inside my ass and nudging my prostate over and over and over.
I closed my eyes and relaxed into my chair as the sensations of pure male sex that John was broadcasting washed over my senses, and then I could feel my own cock coming inside my own ass, and I could feel Rafiq’s cock nudging the back of my throat. I could taste the saltiness of his pre on my tongue. I could feel the heat and hardness of his cock pressing against the palms of my hands. I could feel Rafiq’s fingers on my fat, sensitive nipples.
I was John. John was me. He was delivering everything he was feeling to me as if I were him. What it felt like to fuck myself. What Rafiq’s cock tasted like. What it felt like for Rafiq to tease and twist and torture my nipples, sending direct shocks of bliss at my cock like an electrical circuit.
Then as John sucked Rafiq’s dick, he pulled his prick from his own ass and using his unique and amazing cock’s flexibly muscular capabilities, he pushed the fat head between Rafiq’s muscular ass cheeks and kissed his hole with the drooling tip.
I opened my eyes to watch this. It seemed incredible, but I watched as Rafiq arched his back and pushed his ass towards me, opening himself up for John’s cock to rub itself against his hole, teasing and begging for entry.
Rafiq reached behind him and grabbed his own ass and pulled his cheeks apart, exposing the dark, dank pit of his hole. It quivered and moved as John pushed ever more urgently for entry.
John’s hands replaced Rafiq’s, so he could continue to have his sensitive nips tortured, and he stretched his friend’s butt wide and John began to shove his drooling, hard monster inside.
I could feel Rafiq’s ass grabbing my cock. I could feel my cock inch its way inside his tight, wet heat. I could feel him shiver and quiver as I moved my fat, long, muscular cock inside him deeper and deeper.
God, it was wonderful and amazing and I could hardly withstand the intensity of pleasure that was flooding my whole being. I felt my arms wrapping around Rafiq’s slick, sweaty, athletic body, pulling his cock down my throat. I could feel my cock moving farther and farther inside his delicious, sexy heat as I fucked his ass. I could feel intense throbbing shocks of bliss along every millimeter of my think and lengthy cock as I fucked him. My balls were bulging with cum and aching to release it. I gasped and sighed and started to play with my own cock and balls, finding I was hard again even though I had just exploded the biggest the load of my life inside Rafiq’s mouth.
I wanted John to stop because I could hardly stand this level of bliss, but I wanted John to go on forever and feel like this as long as I could.
I heard his deep, sexy voice say, “You ready, Ray?” And then Rafiq moaned or groaned, and John said, “Here it comes.”
Holy fuck. If I thought I’d exploded with cum before, that was barely a trickle to the sudden gushing onslaught of the flood that John began pumping inside Rafiq’s ass, and I could feel that familiar sensation of orgasmic explosion with sudden fury along every millimeter of my prick.
John groaned and Rafiq squeezed his ass tightly against us but John just kept coming and coming and coming.
“Doc,” John said. “Doc. Watch this.” Then he opened his lips and pulled Rafiq’s prick back down our throat.
I looked at the two young men in my office, the two gorgeous and muscular young men naked and perfect engaged in the hottest fuck I’d ever witnessed.
John shoved his thick hot flood of cum inside Rafiq, and Rafiq wiggled his ass to pull him inside, and then he raised his arms and began flexing his muscles, making his biceps and triceps bulge and his lats to spread.
And with every flex, his muscles grew larger.
Rafiq was growing, in front of my eyes.
He would bend his arms at the elbows and tighten his fists and drive his arms to swell to their largest, most muscular state, and when he released the flex, keeping his arms bent, his muscles retained their size until he tightened his fists again and tightly flexed his muscles, pushing them to bulge even larger.
And they stayed there.
Rafiq was slowly pumping and flexing his muscles a dozen times or more as John kept pumping cum into his body, and the muscles of his arms and shoulders and back kept swelling bigger and bigger. Blood flooded into his brawn and a network of throbbing veins broke out, winding over his swelling brawn like rivers over mountains. He moved his arms down and began to flex his chest. Slow, repeated tensing that made his shoulders and back muscles swell, too.
He groaned and sighed and flexed over and over, getting slightly bigger each time, literally pumping his muscles larger.
John was watching him grow, too, his eyes unblinking and focused on the brown-skinned man’s beautiful body, emptying his balls of their magic cargo and gushing it inside him in a series of long, thick bursts that I could feel traveling up my own dick.
He came for several seconds, maybe half-a-minute, and then Rafiq relaxed again, lowering his arms and breathing hard. Then he was running his hands all over his body, feeling the new size and power of his freshly developed muscles, moaning in delight and pleasure.
“Dude,” John said, almost growling it as he looked at the more muscular man straddling his body. “That was the best one yet!”
“Feels so fucking awesome,” Rafiq agreed. “So fucking awesome.”
The sensation of feeling John’s body and sex drained from me, and I felt oddly alone and small. The connection with him was powerful and incredibly real, as if those things were happening to me instead of to him. I watched him pull his softening dick out of Rafiq’s ass like he was pulling an electrical cord from a socket. He was moving his large hands along Rafiq’s flaring lats and over his bulging back muscles, sensually caressing his friend’s nude body with obvious delight and lust.
Rafiq slowly lifted himself off of John and stood up. I couldn’t tell if he was taller as well as bigger, and I wondered as well if the effects were temporary—like a really good pump at the gym—or permanent. “What the fuck?” I asked, sitting up.
Rafiq turned around. His magnificent prick was still semi-hard, but drooping under its own weight, and his beautiful dark skin was coated in a sheen of sweat all over. He had a fairly large bush of tight dark curls crowning his dick but he was otherwise smooth and hairless, and he was glistening like liquid chocolate and smelled raw and randy. He was smiling and breathing hard, and indeed his chest was also bigger, fuller, more rounded. Even his nipples looked larger. He scrubbed his hand over his scalp, making his biceps swell like a baseball, and shrugged. “That’s kinda what we were hoping you could answer,” he said.
“How would I know?”
“Well, between the three of us, you’re the dude with the Ph.D. on his wall.”
“I’m a doctor of psychology, not….”
“But,” interrupted John, “you’re the one who kinda put all the stuff together about what’s going on with me. Chemical something and brain other thing and libido juice and enhanced hormone whatever.” He slapped Rafiq on his ass, hard, and asked, “So what is this? Am I like a virus or something? And why is it happening to Ray and not to you? I mean, I must have pumped gallons of cum inside your fine sweet butt, and no offense Doc but Ray looks like some Roman statue and keeps getting bigger every time I fuck him. And you….”
“Don’t.” Which was undeniably true. “Well, let’s look at it logically.”
“Start with what we know and maybe that’ll fill in what we don’t.”
Rafiq was rubbing his butt where John slapped him. “Well then, what do we know?”
“We know that…sorry, that’s sort of distracting.” I was looking at his cock, which was still slick and wet from John’s mouth, and arching over his fat ballsack like a snake with one eye. Like his muscles, it looked to me like his cock had stretched itself and had no intention of going back to its old size.
He attempted to cover it with one hand. Then with both hands. Then he started stroking himself and said, “Sorry, but this just feels so fucking fine!” He looked down and tightened his six-pack and moved his hands up and down the length of his monster, licking his lips and sinking deeply into what was obviously a very satisfying sensation.
He looked up. “Can I what?”
“Do the thing that John does?”
I tapped my head. “Sending me what you’re feeling?”
“Oh, that? Nah, can’t do that. All I can do is get bigger.” He lifted his arm again and bent it, swelling his new larger brawn into glorious power. “And bigger.”
I looked at John. “Are you…?”
“Getting bigger too? Seems like it, don’t it? I haven’t, like, measured anything but…maybe?”
“You definitely look bigger to me.”
He hefted the fat length of his dick into his large grip and wagged it at me. “Do I, Doc?”
Yes, he definitely did. “When did this start?”
They looked at each other. “Not sure,” Rafiq answered. He moved around behind where John was sitting and started to massage the giant young man’s colossal shoulders and thick neck. John’s traps were enormous bulwarks now and his shoulders were thickly piled with heavy lobes of brawn. “I mean, the first time Superman here fucked me, my whole body felt wrecked. Like…like have you ever gone waterskiing?”
I shook my head. “More of a mountain man than a beach man. Long hikes and camping, that sort of thing.”
I shrugged. “Once or twice.”
“Well, the first time I went waterskiing, the next day, like, everything hurt. I guess you use all your muscles to, like, keep your balance and stay on the things. Anyway, I felt like that, kinda. Everything hurt.”
“I see,” I said.
“And that was all. But, like, sex with this dude is…well, you know.” I did. “So I went back for more. And more. It’s like I was addicted to him or something.” I also knew that sensation. “Anyway, I only started to notice getting bigger when my dick started growing. A dude tends to know how he feels in his own hand, and then when I could start sucking myself off I…”
“You can…suck yourself off?”
He shrugged. “Sure.” Then he lifted his cock in his hand, bent down, and welcomed the first two inches into his own mouth, licking and sucking himself with evident ease. Then he straightened again. “Used to be I could only manage the tip, licking it at first and then kissing myself. After a while I could get the head inside, and now it’s a few inches. More if I really assert myself.”
“Okay,” I answered slowly. “So, not just muscular size and physical height but also more flexible, too.”
“Well, I mean I can’t fuck myself like Superman, here.”
“Not that you haven’t tried,” John pointed out.
“Superman?” I asked, incredulously.
“Well, I mean, look at this dude!” He ran his hands over John’s impressive and superhuman muscles. I could see his point. John smiled and winked at me. “Yeah, so, my dick still works like…a dick. Not like some weird fucking snake with a mind of its own,” he answered.
“You’re just jealous,” John answered with a broad smile. His dick wound itself around his hand and he moved it down towards his hole and watched himself easily slide inside his own ass again.
“Show off,” Rafiq said.
“Anyway, that’s why I brought Ray along.”
“Rafiq,” I corrected. Rafiq smiled broadly at me. It increased the beauty of his face immensely.
“Yeah, whatever,” John said, dismissively.
“Fine, then. I’ll start calling you Juh.”
“The fuck?” he said, twisting his features.
“Well, one’s my name and the other one isn’t.” I just stared at him. “Oh. Sorry, Rafiq.”
The dark-skinned beauty shrugged his newly enlarged shoulders. “It’s okay.”
“Let me guess,” I said. “Before all this started happening, you were a lot…fatter?”
Rafiq shook his head. “Skinnier.”
“Like a beanpole!” John added.
“And shorter.” Rafiq went to where his jeans sat in a pile and fished his phone from the pocket, Then he came over and showed me a picture, a selfie of someone standing next to John. “That’s me,” he said.
“Uh huh. First day we met. He’s already pumped and shit, of course. I think we just fucked.” The Rafiq in the image had similar facial features of the Rafiq standing next to me, but otherwise these were two different young men. “See? Skinny fucker, huh?” Then he tossed his phone at his pile of clothes and lifted his arms again, watching his new muscle swell. “Not so skinny anymore.”
“You always had a nice, long dick, though,” John mentioned, helpfully.
I nodded. “And I don’t suppose there’s a lot of other Arabs at school?”
Rafiq frowned. “Not so much.”
“So to fit in, you went along with people calling you Ray.”
“It’s just easier.”
“Well, I’m not your therapist, but if I were my advice to you is start going by your real name.” Rafiq looked doubtful. “As I said, it’s only my advice. But you have a beautiful name and you should be proud of it. And yourself. Don’t let anyone else define you, okay?”
He straightened up and looked prouder already. “Okay,” he said.
“Wait. You’re Arab?” John asked. Rafiq nodded. “I thought you were African-American.” Rafiq shook his head. “Well, holy fuck, why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“You never asked,” he replied, returning back to where John was. Then he twisted John’s nipple. Hard.
“You like it,” Rafiq replied, smiling evilly.
“So…Rafiq. You said it hurt at first, and then you noticed your penis was growing.”
He nodded, and resumed massaging and moving his hands over John’s naked body. “Yeah, so, like, I obviously knew what John could do. Everyone does. He used to hide it, I think, or at least be more careful, but lately he just…goes for it.”
“Yeah, my clothing expenses are through the roof! I’m ripping through shirts and pants like paper.”
“The larger clothes don’t work anymore?”
He tilted his head and his face took on an incredulous expression. He moved his hands down the insanely muscular bulges of his torso. “Do I look like I’m gonna fit inside an XL T-shirt?”
“You came in wearing a button-down Oxford and those grey slacks.”
He beamed. “I wanted to look nice for you, Doc! We’ve been apart for so long and I wanted to make a good impression.” He buffed his fingernails against his bare chest and grinned. “I mean, what if you forgot all about me?”
“As a matter of fact I had forgotten that we had our appointment today,” I replied with a straight face. “I was going to do some paperwork.”
“The fuck you were,” he said, pulling his dick from his ass and pointing it directly at me. “You couldn’t wait for this to plug into your sweet, tight butt and start fucking you like no one has ever fucked you.”
I looked at Rafiq and said, “He’s quite the charmer, isn’t he?”
“Sure, but I’m easily impressed.”
“Fuck both of you,” John said.
“You probably could,” Rafiq observed, and he was probably right.
“But getting back to what’s going on,” I said, though having these two beautiful young naked men in front of me was making it very hard to concentrate, “you haven’t noticed this happening to anyone else you’ve been with?”
John shook his head, causing strands of his golden mane to fall across his turquoise gaze. He flipped his head with practiced ease but his hair was adamant, so he pushed it behind his ears. Fuck, even his ears were handsome. “Nah, only Ray…Rafiq…damn it!”
“You can call me Ray if you want to.”
John turned and looked at him. “What do you want me to call you?”
John turned in his seat and punched him on the arm, playfully. “Well, fucker, just say so! Don’t let anyone give you any shit. Even me!”
“Okay,” he answered, but I could tell that would be an adjustment. The young man I saw before me was tall, muscular, athletic, and handsome, someone who would grab attention and cause people to swoon in desire in any room he entered. But apparently these physical changes had all taken place in a week or two, and inside he was still small, thin, shy, self-conscious Ray. It would take some time to adjust—particularly if he kept growing at the rate he seemed to be.
On the other hand, any guy who looked like he did, but didn’t act like he knew that he looked like he did, was going to be impossibly attractive to anyone he met. He was polite, and kind, and gentle—almost a polar opposite to John’s brash, self-assured, outgoing, monumental personality. I kind of hoped Rafiq would be able to retain those aspects of himself.
“Great,” I said, drawing their attentions back to me. “Now that we all know Rafiq’s name—and will respect him by using it….”
“Look, he never…”
“John, this isn’t a him thing, this is a you thing. Let me be your therapist a second and say you’re probably used to everyone paying attention to you, so you may not understand what it’s like to be ignored, or disrespected. It’s not Rafiq’s responsibility to tell you how to behave, but thankfully it’s mine. So take this lesson about respecting other people to heart, and don’t deflect it back on others.”
“Jeez, Doc, I was just….”
“This is an important lesson that you need to learn now, while you’re still young and…growing.” He smirked. “You may have no idea how…overwhelming you are to others. How much your simple presence in a room is like a flood of sex that buries everyone and everything else. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, or something you need to control. What I’m saying is that you should be aware of your power and your effect on other people. You’ll need to make an extra effort to be…polite. Because everyone is going to go out of their way to please you, just to be the object of some of that attention.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m incredible.” Then he smiled and laughed. “Okay, okay, Doc. Mental note to self: Don’t be an asshole.”
“I mean, you’re not an asshole, John. You’re a kind, decent, loving, pretty well-balanced individual. All I’m saying is to be aware of what others want or need.”
“So…my dick in your ass isn’t what you want or need?”
He started laughing, a deep, sexy rumble in that broad, impossibly powerful chest. “I get it, Doc, I get it. I’m just fucking with you.” He started to stroke his huge cock again, and I wasn’t sure if he was doing it for my benefit or his own. “So…what about Rafiq? Why’s he growing?”
“Well, one thing that was easy to notice—and I think you realized this as well, based on your statements—is that he didn’t start growing until you were…until you and he…until….”
“Until I was pumping cum inside his tight little butt is what I think you’re searching for.”
“Or words to that effect, yes,” I agreed.
“So it’s in my cum?”
“It makes a bit of sense, if you think about the properties of sperm and how it works.”
“Which properties in particular? How delicious it is? Or how warm and creamy it feels splashing against your chest and neck? Or how amazing it feels rushing up your dick and spraying out like a fountain?”
“I was referring more to its physical properties than its more sensual ones.”
“Like, you mean, how it’s like a protein shake?” Rafiq asked.
“Say what, now?”
I nodded. “Rafiq is essentially correct.”
John turned towards him. “How did you get so smart?”
“I pity attention to what the teacher is saying in biology, instead of playing with my own nipples and basically trying to seduce the entire class.”
“How do you fucking pay attention to anything Mr. McAllister is saying when the dude is built like a brick shithouse?” He blew air out of his lips and rolled his eyes. “ I mean, that dude is stacked.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” Rafiq said.
“You fucking liar. McAllister spends two fucking hours a day at the gym, and the guy has 18-inch guns and a tight, slim waist and an ass that feels like two balloons filled with muscle.”
“Wait…you fucked Mr. McAllister?”
John’s face reddened. “N..n..no? I mean, it would be very, very bad if anyone ever found out that a teacher and a student were going to the locker room after school and stripping naked and fucking each other until they were both sweaty and breathless and their balls were aching from coming so much. Wouldn’t it?” He smiled and continued to stroke his monumental erection.
“Anyway,” I said, loudly, “basic semen contains protein and enzymes and even vitamins.”
“You fucked Mr. McAllister.”
“Dude. How could I not?” John looked at me for support. “McAllister is our biology teacher, but also a P.E. teacher. So he’s, like, smart? But also super, like, super buff! And he wears these little shorts that cling to his mammoth butt like he’s an orangutan in heat or something, like they cling to each of his cheeks and you can practically feel how tight he’s gonna be. And he’s got red hair all fucking over his body, like swirls and tufts and rivers of red hair, and grey eyes, and this fucking pornstache and…McAllister has got it going on, I’m telling you.”
“You fucked Mr. McAllister.”
“You keep saying that and it keeps being true, though he also fucked me if I’m being honest. And let me tell you, once that dude finally got over his guilt or whatever, that is one amazing ride.”
“Dude. Yes. I fucked Mr. McAllister. I fucked our biology teacher. I went up to him and I told him I needed some extra help with some biology stuff which, technically, was not a lie, and then I maybe sort of started sending him some, you know, mental suggestions concerning, like, having sex with me and what it felt like to have this,” he wagged his enormous meat, “thrusting inside his ass over and over and how it felt to feel me pumping fat, warm, full gushes of cum inside his guts while I was chewing on his nips and stroking his dick and licking his neck and kissing his lips and, yes, I fucked Mr. McAllister. So can we move on already? Sheesh!”
I watched Rafiq take all that in—which, by the looks of things, was only making him horny all over again—before I continued. “Perhaps due to your enhanced biology, your sperm contains other properties or elements that can work on certain individuals in unique ways.”
“Unique, he says.” Rafiq laughed and moved his hands over his chest and belly and prick. “I’d say it was pretty unique.”
“Wait, so…cum is good for you?”
“Well, I’m not sure it could replace a good taco, but there are studies that show that it has a beneficial effect not only physically, but emotionally as well, particularly on women. Perhaps that’s because women are usually the receptors of sperm, rather than men, but you seem to have found your own beneficial effects.”
“But why just me?” Rafiq aasked. “I mean, why aren’t you growing? Why isn’t Mr. McAllister growing? Why aren’t the literally hundreds of dudes this guy has been fucking….”
“Hey! It’s not hundreds of dudes! Dozens, maybe, but not hundreds.”
“Only because there’s only 24 hours in a day.”
“Fair,” John agreed.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “Maybe, like John, there are some unique properties about your biology or metabolism as well. Maybe all you needed was a trigger to set them off, and you just happened upon the most powerful trigger in the world, thanks to John.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty amazing,” he said. Rafiq slapped him across the head and John winced. “Kidding! I’m just kidding!”
“Well, you are pretty amazing,” I agreed, “there’s no debate about that.”
“So, am I gonna continue growing, then?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably nobody knows for sure. As far as I know no one like John ever existed before, so there’s no historical data about what he can do, or how he can do it. Do you want to continue growing?”
Rafiq looked down at himself and paused as he thought about it. John looked a little bit tense, and I wondered if he was afraid of the answer, as if he was responsible for something that someone else didn’t want, like maybe he was hurting someone else instead of providing pleasure. He stopped stroking himself and bit his lip, suddenly looking again like a 16-year-old instead of a strong, powerful, muscular, handsome, furry, bearded man. After a few seconds of silence, John’s rugged brow furrowed and he said, “What are you fucking doing, writing a novel?”
Rafiq grinned. He’d been stalling on purpose. He already knew how to push John’s buttons, and I realized that he was in love, just like I was. I decided not to dwell on that particular point right now, though a twinge of jealousy and fear did strike at my heart. Had John replaced me since we’d been apart? Or was he just expanding his attentions to more than one lover?
I looked up at Rafiq again and he met my gaze and winked, verifying my assumption. He smiled then as he looked at me and I decided that if I had to share John’s love with another man, I could do worse than this brown-skinned Adonis. “Yeah,” he said at last, “I think I kinda like getting bigger.”
“Fuck yeah, you do,” John said softly, but he was smiling now, too.
Rafiq leaned down and pulled John’s face around, pushing their lips together in a slow, soft, passionate kiss. John opened himself to me and suddenly I was kissing Rafiq, too, feeling those warm, pillowy lips pressed to mine. Was he saying that we were now all of us together in the same relationship? That whatever he felt, I would still feel it, too? Or was it an accident, a loss of control when his handsome friend gifted him with such an amazing kiss?
Rafiq pulled his mouth from John’s and straightened again, looking at me and asking, “So, who’s gonna fuck who?”
“Whom,” I corrected, before I could stop myself.
John laughed. “See? I just have a thing for intelligent, hot dudes.”
Then he was standing up, taller and taller, blocking my view of Rafiq entirely. He was a massive mountain of muscular might, every inch of his huge frame bulging with fat balls and thick cables of raw brawn. His cock was a towering limb of hot, hard meat, with a fat mushroom head drooling an unending supply of warm honey. His hair drifted in front of his gaze, again, a cascade of soft gold that covered half his insanely gorgeous face and fell across one massive shoulder. He dipped his head down towards his own cock, stuck out his long slick tongue, and lapped at the flow of pre-cum pouring from the mouth of that magnificent and powerful tool.
When he smiled, it was an expression of lust and desire and pure sex. “Let’s you and me show him how it’s done, Doc.”
My boner sprang up as if he had summoned it, and maybe he did. A cascade of warm sex flowed across my skin like water, tingling like an orgasm and throbbing like a cock. He’d taken control of me, and I welcomed it, both wanting and needing him to help me manage what he was about to deliver. We both knew there was no way for me to withstand everything he could do without his mind in control, and I was excited and scared to discover how much deeper and wider his well of erotic power had grown since we were last together.
I would detail what happened for the next hour involving John, Rafiq and me but…frankly, it’s all something of a blur.
I mean, I can immediately remember the sensations of our tryst, and I know that the three of us were all involved in the sexual escapades, and I know that whatever actually happened was both athletic and energetic (based on the disarranged office furniture that resulted) but the actual…actions involved are all muddled up in a collection of images and sensations of just plain…bliss.
Absolute, perfect, insane, sexual, erotic bliss.
Maybe my brain wasn’t prepared for it. Maybe John’s influences delved a little too deeply inside my head and he touched parts of me that he hadn’t touched before. Maybe it was too much for my body and mind and libido to withstand or process, which is, I imagine, a shame, for I have no doubt that whatever we got up to was…incredible.
I do remember the aftermath, of coming back to myself as if emerging from a sweaty sex-jungle or pulling myself out of a warm, beautiful, tingling ocean of sex, and my body being covered in sweat and the intoxicating scent of John and Rafiq, and Rafiq’s soft, warm lips against mine, and John’s amazing prehensile monster-cock buried deep inside my ass, wriggling and throbbing and shooting streaming jets of hot cum I could feel exploding inside me.
But how we got into that position—me with my legs on John’s shoulders, John over me with a grin on his handsome face and that mane of golden hair plastered to his bronze skin with sweat and cum, and Rafiq straddling my belly with my cock up his ass as he kissed me with the world’s most amazing tongue, long and hot and wet, as if someone had planted John’s muscular dick inside my mouth—I could not relate to you.
I was…exhausted, but everything, and I mean everything was tingling and quivering and throbbing like my whole body was a cock ready to explode. I gasped and gulped in air and Rafiq licked my neck and groaned and I was coming inside him as John was coming inside me.
I mean, I had no idea that such a position was even possible, to fuck and be fucked simultaneously, John’s strong arms manhandling me like a ragdoll, his marvelous hard prick buried inside me, filling me up with hot meat. I swear I could feel every vein on his cock, and the ridge of his fat, spongey head, and the hot, wet stream of cum he was shooting like a hydrant inside me. Rafiq sat up and arched his back and bent his arms and pushed his muscles into bulging relief, riding my dick like a cowboy on a bull, sucking my cock with his ass.
I felt like I was returning from having been blind or something and suddenly everything that was happening was crystallized and focused and diamond-hard.
How did John’s monster cock even mange to fit inside me? Then I remembered his unique and impossible control over its shape and size, able to vary it from a short, squat, barrel of a prick to a long, thin snake, and I felt he must have used all his talents to join us so tightly together.
Cum was splashing out of my ass onto the wooden floor. He was still coming, and I could hear him groaning and grunting as his prick slowly slid in and out, his hips pistoning slightly and thrusting to the base of his monster over and over.
Rafiq’s beautiful dark liquid eyes met my wondering gaze and he smiled and wiggled his ass against my dick. “Fuck yeah,” he said. “You feel so good inside me. You feel like heaven.”
I had no words to give back to him. I could barely even smile. I licked my lips and tried to say something, but he pushed his mouth on mine again and all thoughts vacated my brain as new cascades of pleasure assaulted my libido.
It all felt so good. So, so, so good.
He was kissing me so sensually, so soft and wet and warm. His kisses were sweet and passionate and when he pushed that long, thick tongue inside I wanted to suck it until it came inside my mouth.
The next time he pulled his mouth from mine, kissing my neck instead, I gasped for air and said, “I can’t…I can’t…”
“You can’t what, baby? What can’t you do? What can I do for you, baby? What do you need?”
“I can’t…I gotta…gotta tale a…take a break.”
Rafiq kissed me gently. “Yeah? You worn out from too much loving?” I nodded. “Ease up on our boy here, John. I think maybe we broke him.”
“Huh?” John’s handsome face loomed over Rafiq’s shoulder but he kept fucking my ass and coming inside me. “Oh, shit, I…”
He started to help me along again, sending me some control so I could keep going, but I waved my hand at him. He may not have been satisfied, yet (and probably never would be) but I was worn the fuck out. I needed a timeout from all the nonstop sex.
John smiled and wiped his hand through the long wet strands of his hair, pushing it all behind his head. “Okay, okay, Doc. I get the message.” He wrapped his insanely muscled arms around Rafiq and put his mouth next to his friend’s ear. “Let’s give the old man a rest. He can’t take it like you can.”
I wasn’t offended in the least, because it was undoubtedly true. It was darker in the room now, meaning we’d been going at it for at least a couple of hours. I didn’t think I was keeping up too poorly if we’d managed to keep going this long, the three of us together.
Though I did wonder if I had been more than just a kind of tool for their pleasure. I mean, either one of them could easily manhandle me to do whatever they wanted, particularly when John was in control. I wondered what we had been doing, and how much I had managed to get in my own…requests.
John stopped coming on command and I felt him pulling that thick, hot prick from my body. I gasped and cringed and tightened against him involuntarily, and he laughed slightly and asked, “Are you sure you need to stop, because your ass is doing an awesome job of trying not to let go of me.”
I tried to relax but it was impossible. There was a wrist-thick, 14-inch-long cock inside my ass, but the sheer volume of John’s load acted like a thick lubricant and he came free with an audible pop. John and Rafiq both laughed at that. I moaned deeply, feeling suddenly empty without John inside of me.
Rafiq bent down and pressed his lips to mine and pulled his butt of my cock as he did so, and even that friction sent thick waves of erotic bliss through my body. I was nowhere near as big as either of these magical young men, so I came free fairly easily.
He was still kissing me and then his lips were moving up and down and I opened my eyes and around his head, as he twisted his soft lips against my mouth, I could see that John had taken up where I left off, pushing this still drooling cock inside Rafiq’s stretched hole and fucking away.
Rafiq cringed and winced as that huge prick fed itself inside him, and I ran my hands over his rippled back to soothe him as John fucked him deeper and deeper. I wondered if he would grow again, straddling my body, and I would feel his body growing hot and heavy as new muscle developed all over as if by magic.
John was fucking him hard. His whole body was jerking as John shoved himself home again and again, and soon Rafiq’s whimpers turned into groans of absolute pleasure. Maybe John was flooding his head with the same sensations he flooded mine with, or maybe once Rafiq’s tortured ass had stretched to accommodate John’s monster cock, he felt as I had and wanted nothing more than to experience the sensation of that huge dick inside him, pumping fat fountains of hot cum.
John was now torturing his nipples with his thick fingers as he continued fucking Rafiq. I was more or less just a fucking platform at this stage and started trying to extract myself but Rafiq realized what I was attempting and he squeezed his legs together like a vice and fell upon me and started kissing me again and again and again, moaning and groaning at the same time.
Then John suddenly stopped in his machine-like thrusting and turned his head towards the windows. “Oh, fuck,” he said, and then he was pulling his dick out of Rafiq and standing up (Jesus, he’s so fucking big!) and jogging to the window, his towering hard-on flinging threads of cum around as it emptied its long, thick throat of his excess load.
“Oh, dude,” he said, putting his arm on the sash and gazing down from my third-floor office. “Rafiq! C’mere! You gotta see this dude!”
Rafiq had collapsed on top of me and was breathing hard. “What the fuck, John?”
“Just c’mere! Skater Boy is back!”
Rafiq exhaled a long, dramatic sigh, kissed me once more, and pushed himself off my sweaty naked form to stand up. He stretched his body, seemingly flexing every muscle into vivid relief, and then turned toward where John was standing and said, “This better be worth it, dude.”
“It so is, dude. It so is.”
I knew who John was speaking of, and now that he said something I could hear the telltale sounds of grinding and ollies that had called John’s attention in the first place. He’d seen him in the parking lot before and spoke in glowing terms about what he wanted to do to that skateborder’s “tight, pretty little butt.”
Rafiq stood next to John, emphasizing the other young man’s enormous dimensions and incredible muscular development in doing so, and looked down at where John was already looking.
“Holy shit,” he said quietly.
“Who is he?”
John’s mountain range of traps and shoulders shrugged. He was stroking his magnificent cock again while watching whatever was happening in my parking lot. I took the opportunity to get up off the floor. My legs wobbled and tingled from lack of blood flow, and I stumbled back around my desk and flopped in my chair, catching my breath and watching the two boys watching the third boy.
“Well?” Rafiq said finally, “what are you waiting for?”
“Turn on that patented charm and go down there and get him! We can give the good doctor a well-deserved break and keep going with our friend down there.”
“Dude, no one can resist you when you turn on and plug in.” He cast his gaze up and down John’s fully-engorged body, and added, “but maybe tone yourself down a notch or two,” he recommended, rubbing his knuckles against the hot, hard surface of that monster cock John owned. “Don’t want to scare him off before we even get started.”
John’s head tilted, sending his cascade of gold flowing across his wide back. “Maybe you should do it.”
John looked at him. “Yes, you! No way I’m gonna cool my jets, now. Between you and the Doc I am primed with a huge load and ready to pump.”
“But you’ve been pumping….” John smiled and shrugged. “Holy shit, are your balls limitless?”
John reached under and tried cupping his fat nuts in one hand, and failed. “One way to find out. Let’s see if we can find another dude like you and make him grow, too!”
“Oh, right, like you’ve been fucking the whole high school including the teachers and this is the dude that….”
“Okay, look. I just…I want to fuck him.”
“Well, you want to fuck everyone.”
John looked outside. “Not like I want to fuck him.”
“Like you want to fuck me?”
John turned his head and smiled. “Nah, you’re special.” He twisted his head on his thick neck and looked at me. “You, too, Doc! You dudes are special.” Then he looked back into the parking lost. “With that dude, it’s just plain fucking horniness. The way he moves, the way he looks, I just think fucking him would be…fun.”
Rafiq looked back down and sighed. “Fine. I’ll give it a shot.”
“No, don’t ‘give it a shot,’ dude. Go get him!”
I kind of wanted to witness that myself. It was another step on Rafiq’s new path of self-assurance and growing at ease with who he was. Plus, handling rejection was an important part of learning as well, so even if he couldn’t seduce or persuade the skateboarder inside, he might learn some valuable lessons anyway.
Rafiq looked at me and asked, “Should I?”
I said, “Only if you want to.”
He looked back down. “I kinda do.”
“I’d suggest putting some pants on, at least. There’s cameras out there in the parking lot and a nude man wandering around trying to proposition other men might…raise a few questions from the building owners.”
Rafiq grinned and went over and grabbed his jeans, slipping his legs inside and working them up his body. He was definitely bigger than he was when he walked in, because he could hardly fit his new, more muscled butt and that length of fat cock inside and still zip up. But once he did they looked painted on his body and sexy as fuck. The bulge in front was obvious and suggestive, and the bulges behind suggested that this guy’s naked ass would be something to behold.
“What about the shirt?”
John glanced down again, “Well, he ain’t wearing one so I don’t think he’ll object.”
“Okay,” Rafiq said, dropping his tank top and taking a deep breath. “Wish me luck!”
“Good luck,” I said.
“If he doesn’t want to come, kiss him. One of your kisses would convince Jesus into hell.”
“Sacrilegious but thanks,” he answered.
John and I stood naked at the window to observe Rafiq’s first attempt at seduction. The skateboarder was, in fact, very beautiful. He had a ripped, athletic body that gleamed with sweat, and watching him on the board was like watching a gymnast or a ballet dancer. He was obviously very practiced at it, and even when he fell he looked sexy.
It was difficult to make out details of his face from this distance, plus it was dark outside. He wore a baseball cap backwards on his head and a pair of knee length shorts, like a basketball player would wear. He was shirtless, as John pointed out, and his skin was pale and pink. I could make out two flat plates of muscle mounted on his chest, and a very prominent and well-developed six-pack, no doubt a result of endless skateboarding and other athletic activities. He looked like he could easily scale a rock cliff or surf huge waves.
After a minute or two, we watched Rafiq emerge and stride somewhat slowly towards the skateboarder. “How do you think he’ll do?” John asked me.
“Poorly,” I said, honestly, “except that he looks like that and if that young man has any interest in sex with other men at all—even a mild curiosity—I doubt Rafiq will even need to open his mouth to speak.”
John was still, as usual, in heat, and as I stood next to him he began to stroke and caress my naked body. It felt good so I didn’t object, and then I felt that hot, hard cock of his pressing itself between my ass cheeks and I knew he wanted more.
“You’re just going to have to wait,” I admonished him.
“Fuck, I’m so horny, Doc. Holy fuck.”
“More than usual?” I asked.
“Doc, I could fuck a hole in a brick wall. I could come a gallon and still keep going. I could….”
“I get the picture.”
“Fuck,” he groaned. “You really think he’s gonna strike out his first time at bat?”
“Yeah, didn’t I mention? Rafiq was a virgin when I met him and I was still calling him Ray. I guess in a way getting a new name kinda fits.”
“It’s not his new name,” I said, “It’s his name.”
“Well, I know that now. Jeez, are you ever gonna let that…?”
“I don’t think Rafiq is going to strike out.”
“What makes you say that?” He turned his gaze back towards the parking lot.
“I’m not an expert, of course,” I said, “but it seems to me that if the person you’re interested in has his hand on your crotch and his lips on your mouth, you’re probably doing okay.”
Because that was, indeed, the scene that met our mutual gazes as we watched the two young shirtless men more or less making out under one of the parking lot lights, which cast a perfect circular puddle of brightness on them as if they were on stage.
Rafiq’s hand moved down the back of the skateboarder’s body until it rested on his ass, and then he started kneading his partner’s butt with what looked like rather a practiced hand. “Atta boy,” John said, and I chuckled.
It was like a game, like a sport, and here was John cheering on his protege as he watched the man he (also) loved passionately making out with…yet another man. “Fuck,” he said, “that is so fucking hot.” He licked the tip of his dick with a wet slurp before continuing his long, slow, slippery strokes of his mammoth erection.
They were making out—do people still use that term? They made out under the light and I said “I should put something on.”
John asked, “Should I?”
I looked at his mammoth stature. “Could you?”
He looked down at himself and said, “I suppose not.” I started to move away and he reached out and grabbed my hand saying, “Don’t go too far, I’m not done with you,” which made me swoon and shiver with lust and desire. He squeezed my hand with his and then released me, and I put on my pants and shirt. My ass hurt and I was walking funny, after all there are some sensations that even John can’t mask. Then I returned to his massive, muscular form and leaned against him, allowing his heat and scent to surround me as he wrapped me up in his strong, form arms.
I considered the two young man as I leaned on John and watched Rafiq kissing and stroking the skateboarder, thinking about their differences. John was aggressive, boastful, self-assured, an overwhelming personality whether he was as he looked now or at his less imposing dimensions. Rafiq was tender, kind-hearted, passionate, and loving. John was loving in his way, and I loved him most assuredly, but I could see why he would want to be with Rafiq, because I did too.
We watched as the two of them pulled their lips apart and I could almost hear the skateboarder ask where they could go, and then Rafiq was nodding towards the building and took his hand and led him towards us.
“Holy fuck,” John said. “He actually did it.” He looked down at me. “Should I hide or something? I mean, I’m kinda overwhelming.”
“You’ll be overwhelming one way or the other. Either he’s into it or he’s not, and there’s nothing you can do about that.”
“Actually, there’s a lot I can do about that.” He tapped his temple and grinned.
“Do you think that’s fair?” It was a simple question with deeper currents of meaning. He was an extremely powerful individual in every sense of the word. Was he going to decide to be Peter Parker and become Spider-man and use his powers for good? Or would he be Norman Osborn and use his powers to became an asshole?
Again, only he could decide.
John paused before answering. At least he was considering things, and that was a good sign. After a while he said, “You know Mr. McAllister? My biology teacher?”
“I recall his name, yes,” I said, smiling.
“He said he didn’t want to fuck me. Not at first.” John’s voice was soft, a deep rumble in the darkened room. “I mean, that’s not how he put it. He said, ‘It wouldn’t be right, John,’ and I said, ‘Why not?’ And he said ‘You’re my student. I’m your teacher.’ And I said—you’re gonna fucking love this—I said, ‘Well, I’m asking you to teach me.’” John laughed. “Fucking cheesy, I know. And…I knew I could just…nudge him. You know? Just, like, go in there and turn a no into a yes. But that felt…no, it was wrong. And I started to turn around and leave, because I’m not gonna, like, attack him no matter how fucking hot he is. And McAllister is a definitely positively a 10. Did I mention that man’s butt?” He sucked in a breath and blew out a whistle. “So, I was leaving and his hand was on my shoulder and he kind of squeezes it, right? And I heard him say ‘Nobody can know.’ So of course I knew I was in there.
“He wanted to do it. And if I had pushed him, it wouldn’t have been his voice saying that, it wouldn’t have been his desire holding me, and I always would’ve wondered. I mean, I wanted to be with him really bad.”
“Badly,” I corrected.
“But the thing is, I said, and I’m not even sure why, but I want to blame you, Doc. I said, ‘No, I’m not going to lie anymore. I won’t blast it all over, but if someone asks I’m gonna say, yeah, we fucked. And it was my idea.’ And he sort of smiled, and then nodded, and then his mouth was on my dick.”
He laughed slightly, probably at the memory. “So I get your point, Doc.”
He made a joke out of it, but I was proud of him.
“Why do I feel nervous?” he asked.
“That’s probably not nerves, that’s just your throbbing dick. It’s so big it’s making the rest of you shake.”
“I love you,” he said, squeezing me tighter within his powerful embrace.
“I love you, too.”
We heard the footsteps approaching outside in the hallway and two voices speaking. One was easily recognizable as Rafiq, so the other—using far coarser language with a surprising talent at vulgarity—had to be Skateboarder.
I could practically smell him before the door even opened. By now I was probably immune to John’s scent, like one forgets a bouquet of flowers in a room after a while, and I could recognize Rafiq, but this one was…funky. Dirty. Randy. Musky. And sexy.
The door opened and the skateboarder said, “Awfully dark for a forgy.” He had his arm slung over Rafiq’s shoulders is a friendly manner, and his board in his other hand at his hip. His hair was long, but not as flowing and beautiful as John’s, and pulled back from his face, behind his ears which stuck out in an attractive fashion.
“A what?” Rafiq asked.
“You know. Two people fucking is a date. Three people fucking is a party. Four people fucking is a forgy.” He dropped his skateboard and it rolled away, stopped by the far wall. He took something from his back pocket—which turned out to be his shirt—and started mopping down his sweaty skin. He was practically glowing in the faint dusk light. “Holy fucking fuck,” he said with something like delight, gazing at John’s outline against the window, “you’re fucking huge!”
John said, “You noticed.” I think he lowered his voice for good measure.
“Dude, you’re a fucking house over there. How big are you?”
“Doc here says fourteen inches, but I think he’s shortchanging me.”
“No, I meant…You’re…Fourtee…fucking fuck, I’m gonna like it here.” He strode forward up to John and looked him up and down. “Dude, you are fucking stacked! What’s your secret, I mean besides genetics?” He reached his grip up around John’s left biceps and squeezed. “Holy fuck! You’re fucking hard as a fucking rock!”
John pressed his towering muscular body at the smaller man, and the head of his dick practically rubbed the guy under his chin. “Better fucking believe it.”
“What’s your name,” I asked. He seemed shocked there was anyone else in the room.
“Whoa. Hey, I didn’t see you…the name’s Q.”
“Cue? Like the ball?”
“Like the letter. Q.” It was evident he wasn’t going to explain further. He scratched at a spot on his chest. He had some hair there, not much but enough, and two flat plates of well-defined muscle. His six-pack was absurdly defined, which I guess comes with the territory if you spend your time twisting your body and dancing along the rims of swimming pools while maintaining your balance on a two-foot long board on wheels. His hips were narrow and he had a distinct and thick Apollo’s belt that disappeared into his shorts like an arrow. His hair was shaggy and unkempt, his body was rangy and athletic, and he smelled to high heaven of rank sweat.
He kept his gaze on John’s body, letting his eyes drift over and around all the muscle packed on his frame, and then he moved his hand off John’s arm and onto John’s prick, grasping it near the weeping helmet and squeezing again. “Fuck, this thing is almost as hard as your fucking arm!”
“Almost?” John tensed his butt or something because Q giggled and moved his grip down John’s enormity.
“Q was looking for some fun,” Rafiq reported, “and I told him that we were fun.”
“Frankly I meant weed, you know? But…fuck.” He kept slowly stroking John’s cock, his grip moving up and down its absurd and awesome shank, and drinking in the sight of the huge muscular Superman like he was burning him into memory. “Never seen a cock this big.”
“That’s nice of you to say,” John said. “What did you want to do with it?”
“Fucking everything. For a start.” Since Q was having some fun with John’s cock, John decided to reach around him and grab his butt. His hand was nearly as large as one of the skater’s cheeks, and he grabbed him rather forcefully by my reckoning.
Q went up on the balls of his feet and John took advantage of his additional height by bending forward and pushing his mouth over Q’s, then putting his other hand behind the skater’s neck as Q’s strokes slowed and he moved his palm to cup the portion of John’s cock just below the glans and moving his thumb over and around the drooling tip, making a deep, loud groan emerge from John’s chest.
Things were moving quickly, as I suppose I should have guessed, and I looked at Rafiq and he looked back at me and shrugged.
I shook my head and motioned at the other pair and mouthed, “get in there!” And he shook his head back at me and mouthed, “no” and I nodded and mouthed, “get your ass in there” and his brow furrowed and he mouthed again, “no,” and that was when we both looked over and John and Q were both looking at us.
“I don’t know if you noticed,” Q said, his dark brows raised, “but you’re still wearing your pants.”
“I…had noticed that,” Rafiq replied.
“Oh.” Rafiq began to remove his pants. Q shifted his gaze to me and lowered one eyebrow.
“Oh,” I said.
I knew pretty quickly that, though he looked only a little older than John and Rafiq, Q was probably several years older. Either that, or he’d been having sex since he was eight—which wasn’t out of the question.
When Q said he wanted to do “fucking everything” with John’s magic dick, he wasn’t just telling tales. I was, at turns, awed, amazed, and shocked at the things Q wanted to (and managed to) do, and his stamina, and his…appetites. I don’t think John even had to help him along, for a change, and maybe even had a hard time keeping upQ loved sex. All of it. Every single drop of it. He loved bodies, all of them, all parts and sizes, and stroking his hands across them, putting his mouth on those parts and sticking his tongue inside them and rubbing his body against them.
It’s like he had absolutely no filters at all. Nothing was out of bounds. I knew I was outclassed as far as being something of a mentor in these cases, because Q had a Master’s Degree in fucking. And kissing. And stroking.
He was also very verbal, which none of the rest of us tended to be. I’m usually so far into the depths of bliss that John delivered that even thinking up words was a nearly impossible feat, but Q told you exactly what he wanted to do, or how something felt, or how someone looked, and then he was back to what he wanted to do again.
I must confess that my sexual encounters up to this point had been exclusively monogamous. Me and one other person. Occasionally someone might watch (okay, but who hasn’t had sex in a steam room?) but it was always just me and him, not me and him and him and him.
Again, Agent Q to the rescue! It was like he was somehow tuned in to all of us, tangled up together on the floor of my office in the darkness with only a spill of light from the parking lot coming through the window. He knew when someone needed attention, he knew where someone’s cock was and could reach it and stroke it and suck on it, groaning with pleasure and mouthing those filthy instructions or explaining exactly how much he wanted it in his ass.
And, above all, he was extremely giving. One might have thought that someone that…aggressive and confident would tend to want to run everything, like the captain of a ship on a sea of sex.
But he wasn’t stingy or selfish about himself or what was going on, one time catching my eye and grinning as he sucked on John’s big cock and he’d pull his mouth off it and say, “Dude, you gotta fucking get a piece of this sweet, sweet cock meat.” And I’d grab John and Q would switch to Rafiq’s butthole, prying his dark, sweaty cheeks apart and pushing his tongue deep inside.
This time I remembered everything that we did. John’s influence over me was either subdivided between all of us, so he couldn’t send a concentrated dose of his sexual power at my brain, or he was so overcome with what was going on and all of Q’s interactions that he himself was simply sinking deep inside the tangle of our bodies together and not worried about being the Master of Ceremonies.
Of course, that meant that my engines were running out of gas a lot sooner than when John did take charge, and when I came inside…someone’s mouth, I plucked my limbs and body free of the sexual liaison, breathing hard and feeling giddy, and sat in the dark with my back against the wall watching the kids play.
I’m not even sure they realized I was no longer in the game, and play continued, though the acrobatics had subsided somewhat and there was a lot more kissing and licking and stroking than energetic thrusting and pumping. I was a sweaty mess and smelled like Q, now—and I kind of liked it, but it was a rather…distinctive scent, so I grabbed my clothes and wandered into the restroom at the end of the hall to wash some of it off.
I looked into the mirror and felt momentarily aghast. I was a fucking mess! My body was sweaty, my hair was a rat’s nest, I was grimy from Q’s parking lot filth and now that I wasn’t inside the overheated sex sauna that my office had become, I really did stink.
I bent over the sink and splashed water on my face and under my arms. I grabbed a handful of paper towels and wiped my naked body all over, feeling a bit refreshed and reinvigorated as a result.
I put my shirt and pants back on, tucking the shirt in my waist and rolling up the sleeves. My hair was wet and I had no comb, so I tried pushing it all into something like a part and then regarded myself in the mirror.
I wasn’t growing. I wasn’t given Rafiq’s…whatever Rafiq had that made him grow. But I looked good. Better, in fact, than I’d looked in a long time.
I guess all this sex was good for me.
Back in the office, Rafiq was sitting in my chair behind my desk watching John and Q in front of him. He looked over at me, his brow furrowed, nodded toward the pair and mouthed, “whoa.”
Whoa, indeed. Because even though there were only two bodies left in our forgy, they were making the most of it.
I can’t even describe…well, I’ll try anyway. John was on his shoulders with his ass in the air, looking almost as if he intended to suck his own dick. His legs were thrown over his head with his toes planted behind him.
Q was posed above him lying against his legs facing the opposite direction shoving his dick all the way inside John’s butthole, his feet planted on the carpet and his legs spread wide apart—because John’s prehensile muscular cock was simultaneously fucking Q.
They were fucking each other at the same time. I didn’t even realize that was possible, but apparently when your erection can point in any direction and stretch and bend itself however you want it to….
Rafiq was playing with his own prick—not exactly erect but plump and firm. He was as sweaty and smelly and cummy as I had been, and for a moment I was afraid my chair would hold the smell of sex and sweat and ass for a long time, and then I decided I didn’t actually care.
John was leaving his cock in a more or less pointed position which meant that when Q was deepest inside him, his cock was shallowest in Q’s ass, and when Q pulled himself out, John’s cock was thrust in his butt. In a sense, Q was fucking John and fucking himself using John’s cock.
On the one hand it was a bit like stunt-sex, I suppose, but on the other we had probably tried and accomplished every other position that men with ordinary cocks could do, so as long as one of us had a cock like John’s that would perform acts like that, why wouldn’t we?
At this point it appeared that Q’s vocabulary had met its match in the sheer amount of sexual pleasure he was experiencing. Also at this point I realized that we had all come so much over the hour or so that we’d been enjoying each other that I doubted he had any cum left in his balls, even though his cock was full and hard and slick with sweat and spit and pre. I knew that John’s unusual sexual prowess over other men was powerful, but he had been managing to support all three of our libidos and heighten our mutual arousal and bodily capacities and he was still goingHis voice was in my head at that moment; “I am always horny. Always.”
Were there truly no limits to his sexual appetites? How many other men could he possibly sustain in this manner?
And he was only growing stronger.
It was probably safe for me to assume that John and Rafiq were together quite often between our sessions, because the next time I saw them together in my office a week later, Rafiq was…remarkably bigger.
I nearly didn’t recognize him, and a number of questions popped into my head immediately. For example, how were his parents or friends or teachers reacting to his incredible and unmistakable physical improvements? There was nothing ‘normal’ about the rate and degree of his muscular and…sexual development.
Everything was bigger, and dramatically so. Perhaps his growth was now exponential, and the larger he grew, the faster his growth manifested. He wasn’t bodybuilder big, with fat bulges of brawn inflated under his dark skin, and he wouldn’t best another man on stage at a competition. He was nowhere near as large as John was, but he was noticeably bulkier and more muscular.
When he followed John in, his clothing was so tight on his body that there was little left to the imagination concerning almost any of his physical properties, from his larger pectoral plates to the dramatic six-pack bulging from his belly to the fat lengthy bulge of cock pressing insistently against his zipper. John was no longer bothering to wear ludicrously loose clothing either, and the two of them together were breathtaking to see.
Rafiq was growing taller as well, obviously, because his shirt refused to be tucked into his jeans, revealing his navel and a trail of tight little curls that lead under his waistband and undoubtedly crowned his bigger, fatter, longer prick with a thick bush of dark pubic curls.
His arms were thick and vascular, and his shoulders were now showing off distinct and massive lobes of striated muscle. It was remarkable that his shirt even stayed in one piece, although he had torn the sleeves off to allow his newly bulging biceps and triceps room.
He greeted me with a firm, tight, all-encompassing hug and I could feel the hardness and size of his new musculature pressing against me like moving rocks. His scent was stronger, too, as if his new body needed to advertise its heightened sexual prowess by pumping male pheromones into the environment like a clarion call to anyone who wanted sex right now.
“Yeah,” he said, smiling (and his voice was deeper now as well), “I’m still growing.” Then he started to pose and flex and show off exactly how much bigger he was.
My heart flipped in my chest and my cock surged and throbbed watching him display his godlike masculine beauty for me, as John stripped himself of his clothing and began to swell to full power behind him. I was almost used to John by now, used to his size and power and that huge prick that rose and inflated almost like magic, but seeing this new Rafiq and his more masculine face and those perfectly developed muscles was literally mind-blowing.
He had been a good-looking young man before, but the added muscle and height and masculine properties that John somehow delivered to his body had created a man that would take anyone’s breath away. He was physically gorgeous and I had to restrain myself from leaping towards him and ripping his clothes from his body. There was an almost palpable sexuality to his presence.
I don’t mean that jokingly, I could literally feel myself drawn to him and my libido was swelling like bread in a hot oven. His scent, his face, his body, and that bulge in his pants were all working in unison to drive me insane with desire.
And from the look on his face and the smile on his full, kissable lips, he knew it, too.
Then he started to strip off his clothes and it was like a kind of madness, watching him reveal his new, larger dimensions. His dark skin looked like milk chocolate silk that was draped over his perfect muscular development. His shirt was so tight that he had trouble extracting his torso from it, and it caught on his massive new chest before coming loose suddenly and revealing two thick muscular plates and two fat, chewable nipples. He breathed and his six-pack swelled and receded, growing absurdly defined on his tight, flat stomach.
Once he was shirtless he started flexing again, pushing his biceps into fat, vascular balls and allowing his lats to flare out like wings. He was literally taking my breath away. I was feeling faint—probably because all the blood was rushing to my dick.
Rafiq set his fingers to his pants and slowly pulled apart the crotch, undoing each button of his fly one by one. He wasn’t wearing shorts and I watched him reveal that the treasure trail he had grown was, indeed, only a taste of the thick bush in his loins.
Pluck. Pluck. Pluck. Each button gave way as he pulled his pants open and then there was the thick root of his tool, glistening with sweat. I looked down and he was growing, his caged-up prick swelling like a balloon and its head pushing along his thigh as he swelled to erection.
My god! My god! How big was he? Surely not as huge as John!
And yet, he continued to swell with size, obviously as turned on by my reaction as I was by his body.
He had undone the buttons on his jeans but his massive meat was still lodged inside the tight confines of denim. He reached in and grabbed himself, tugging his cock out of its cage as inch by thick, swollen inch came free.
“Might as well just push those jeans off, Rafiq,” John advised. “Otherwise you’re gonna get too big and we’ll have to cut you out of them.” He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. “Besides, it’s been an hour since I’ve seen your ass and I miss it.”
“I’m trying to be all sexy and shit,” he complained. Again, his deep, masculine voice seemed to reach forward and stroke my cock.
John laughed slightly. “I don’t think it’s possible for you to not be sexy, Raf. Just strip already.”
Rafiq smiled and shrugged and hooked his thumbs into the waistband at his hips and shoved his jeans off.
I think I gasped, or maybe whimpered.
When Rafiq straightened again, kicking the jeans off his feet, his cock wagged and swung and swayed like a heavy limb before coming to a rest, hanging thick and beautiful between his muscled thighs. It was visibly throbbing and pumping full of blood, finally released from its confines, and rising quickly towards erection.
It was…massive. A fat shank of sex with its head cowled in a wealth of foreskin that began to strip itself back as it grew even longer. He looked down at himself and wiggled his hips, making his quickly swelling monster wag like a puppy’s tail. His balls looked like two eggs in a tight sack that hung low, and a strong whiff of his scent, thick with sex, assaulted me.
I swallowed dryly and John stepped forward, hanging his heavily muscled and now fully-swollen arm across Rafiq’s wider and more powerful shoulders, looking down as Rafiq shook his dick. “I do good work, don’t you think, Doc?”
“Holy fuck,” I responded.
The both of them laughed and John pulled Rafiq’s face around and planted a kiss on his mouth. Rafiq’s cock responded visibly, throbbing and emitting a thick drool of pre that swelled at its mouth and began to flow down its long, thick shaft.
They ended the deep, passionate kiss with several smaller ones. “My bud here has put on over twenty pounds, all of it muscle,” John announced proudly before slapping Rafiq soundly on his butt. “And he’s three inches taller.”
“And an extra inch-and-a-half longer,” Rafiq added, looking down at himself and wagging his dick again. “Kinda impractical to be honest. Like, it’s gonna start hanging down into the toilet water if this keeps up.”
“But you’ll be able to take a piss standing at the sink and still make it in the urinal!” John added helpfully.
“How…? How…?” Clearly I was at a loss for words.
“We’ve been…kinda going at it steady for a week,” Rafiq explained.
“Going at it?”
“Fucking,” John clarified.
“And it’s now pretty much guaranteed that I get bigger. After.”
“After I fuck him,” John added helpfully.
“Jesus,” I said. I couldn’t take my eyes off his prick. It was beautiful. It was gorgeous. It was perfect. I wanted to put my mouth on him and suck him until he came and swallow every drop and then suck him some more. I wanted to feel him sliding down my throat, and pushing in my ass. I wanted to stroke him until he gasped and cried and shouted and watch him explode with cream like a fountain. He was oozing sex. He was broadcasting it like a fucking radio. I could feel the heat of sex coming off him like the sun.
I had questions, but all I wanted to do—and I wanted to do it very badly—was have Rafiq fuck me. His cock was hard and throbbing and wet with pre that he was now leaking copiously, coating his massive meat like a glistening popsicle I wanted to lick.
But John had other ideas. “Wanna watch?” he asked me, grinning.
He moved behind Rafiq and put his thick, muscular arms around the smaller young man, setting his chin on Rafiq’s shoulder and absently playing with his friend’s nipples. “Gotta load and a half in my balls all primed and ready for pumping. Wanna see how big I can make Rafiq? Wanna watch him swell? Wanna watch his cock stretch another inch longer and another inch thicker? Wanna see his arms get bigger, and his chest get more massive, and his butt pushing out with fuck power?”
I really, really did. So I nodded with my mouth hanging open and sat back on the edge of my desk.
“Cool,” said John, straightening to his full, amazing height. Rafiq smiled as well, and then he turned around (Jesus! That ass! Jesus! It’s like…two bowls mounted on his backside!) and John wrapped him in his embrace and they kissed passionately for about a minute as John’s hands roamed Rafiq’s body and Rafiq’s hands roamed John’s body and they were groaning and grunting and moaning and then John lowered Rafiq to the carpet and Rafiq lifted his legs and placed them on John’s mountainous shoulders and John dipped his shaggy head down and lapped noisily at Rafiq’s ass with absolute gusto as Rafiq squirmed and squealed and whimpered.
And then John opened Rafiq’s hole and pointed his talented, muscular cock at it and pushed himself inside, inch by inch by massive inch, groaning as his eyes rolled back in his head.
He was coming immediately, almost before he was even inside him. I knew he was coming because he connected to me and I was experiencing the sensation of his extended and powerful orgasmic release. He was pumping cum inside Rafiq’s ass again and again, thrusting his hips and shoving a fat load of muscle cream with every thrust.
I could feel it. I could feel cum in my heavy balls, aching with their glorious load. I could feel my asshole squeeze as I sent a fat stream up the inches of my massive meat being held so tightly inside Rafiq’s tight hole.
He came over and over, again and again, with absolute control over what he was doing. He was a giant cock, throbbing with sexual energy, coming thick fountains of cream from his endless supply.
And then John sped up, holding Rafiq’s ankles as he fucked him, pumping inside his guts and watching his face and body for the results to begin. He pushed in all the way, every thick muscular inch of his cock gripped by Rafiq’s butthole, and unleashed a torrent of cum until it was gushing out against his groin, overflowing from Rafiq’s body and splattering thick and hot against his naked skin.
I got up off my desk to get a better look, to watch these two young men fucking as the bigger one’s cum grew the other one. It was difficult to walk. I was still being gifted with John’s fuck-connection. My whole body throbbed and tingled and shook with the strength of his orgasms, the power of his fuck, the godlike, superhuman, overwhelming dominance of his sexual capacity.
But I had to see it. I had to watch it. Not through his eyes, but through my own.
It started off slowly, and at first I wasn’t sure I was seeing what I was seeing. Rafiq’s body—his muscles—were incredibly defined. His body fat had to be very low for me to be able to see every muscle so distinctly. He was ripped to shreds, but not so much that he looked like he was ready to step into a bodybuilding competition.
His cock was hard and thick and veiny, waving across his six-pack as John fucked him, painting a glistening trail of pre-cum on his dark skin. He was groaning and gasping, clearly in the throes of a deep and overwhelming sexual experience himself. He ran his hands over his chest and torso, feeling the pleasure of hands on his body even if they were his. He would brush against his erection but didn’t grasp himself or stroke himself, even as his cock drooled a continual stream of warm honey, almost as if he were afraid of its power and what would happen if he did.
I noticed the development on his belly, first. He was writhing in absolute bliss so it wasn’t distinct at first, but then it was unmistakable. Each of the six balls of abdominal power was swelling under his skin, rising like bread dough.
Then the two plates of power mounted on his chest joined in, and his arms and shoulders. John said, “Fuck, yeah, grow for me, bro, get bigger and bigger.”
It was fucking incredible to witness. I remembered the first time I witnessed John doing this to Rafiq, and how the slim young man started flexing to force his muscles to swell. This time, Rafiq did nothing like that, his body—his muscles—were simply developing on their own, as if being inflated with strength and power directly from John’s massive dick.
He fucked him for two or three minutes, pumping a continual supply of cum from his swollen balls. Rafiq’s dark, silken skin stretched thinner and thinner across his growing muscles and then the two of them slowed, John’s thrusts drawing out and Rafiq whimpering and cooing with bliss each time John pushed himself all the way in and released a thick, hot blast of muscle-building cream.
Finally, John pulled himself out of Rafiq’s ass, his cock drooling and glistening, and he looked down at the other young man and smiled. “Okay,” he said, “time for the real growth to happen.”
Rafiq opened his eyes and drew in a deep breath and smiled. “Fuck yeah,” he moaned, and he struggled unsteadily to his feet.
“The real growth?” I repeated, probably looking perplexed. The room smelled like sex and sweat and cum and my cock was hard as a rock.
“Yeah, Doc. The real growth.”
Rafiq stretched his tall frame as if warming up for something, and then he fell to the carpet and began performing pushups.
“See, he’s gotta, like, push the power into his body like this. Working out. The harder he works out, the bigger he gets.”
“Why?” I asked.
John shrugged, reaching down and stroking his semi-firm cock as usual and watching his friend on the floor. “Dunno. Kind of discovered it by accident one day. Rafiq and me, we were fucking at the gym and….”
“At the gym? Like, out on the floor of the gym?”
John looked at me like I was insane. “Who fucks out on the floor at the gym? No, dude, we were in the showers, naked and hot and wet, horny as fuck, and I pushed a nice thick load inside him and he was all, ‘I feel like working out,’ and I was all, ‘we just did, dude,’ and he was all, ‘nah, like, a real workout!’ So I’m all, sure whatever, and then….”
“And then this happened.” He gestured towards Rafiq doing his seemingly endless pushups and…I blinked and felt my mouth go dry. “Yeah, see? You can watch it happening. It’s so awesome, dude.”
His muscles were growing. At first it was hard to discern, because he was pressing himself up and down, up and down, and his butt was distracting (he has a really amazing butt) and John was standing there stroking his cock as it throbbed and shook with need, but by watching Rafiq it became slowly evident that he was literally bodybuilding in real time.
A weird thought occurred to me. “Won’t his chest and shoulders and arms get outsized if that’s….”
John chuckled in his deep-throated way and as if my own curiosity were some catalyst, Rafiq jumped up (I noticed that his erection was in full bloom and appeared hard and shiny, wrapped in veins and throbbing hard) and looked around before grabbing one of the office end tables and, using that as a kind of makeshift weight, began doing deep knee-bends over and over. “Yeah, he has to do a full workout in order to get the full effect. Not that I think anyone would mind if he just worked out his chest until he has some massive slabs of muscle hanging off him, but he likes looking balanced.”
Rafiq had a bright smile on his face and his cock was bobbing and waving as he went up and down, pushing growth into his legs and ass as he had done with his upper body.
He worked out for around ten minutes or so and then set the table down and stood there, naked, breathing hard and grinning. He set his hands on his hips and looked down at himself, waving his erection at us playfully.
His six-pack was absurdly defined. Everything was. It was like he had inflated his muscles under his dark skin. He was slightly bigger—slightly more defined—everywhere.
“Holy shit,” I said, because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. This defied logic and everything I knew about the human body. That much growth in so little time—he should be in pain, or starving. Muscles can’t grow that quickly, the process should take weeks or months to achieve those results.
But there he was, standing there—bigger and more muscular in a matter of minutes.
He looked frankly amazing, like a gymnast at peak form or a male model who spends all his off-time at the gym. His body was…perfect. Aesthetically he was the most beautiful young man I had ever seen. John went over to him to kiss him and wrap him in his muscular embrace, and John looked enormous next to him, of course, putting Rafiq’s appearance in a sort of perspective.
John looked like a super heavyweight bodybuilder, his muscles were massive everywhere, thick and hard and bulging outward, pressing against each other for room. His chest was two enormous rounded plates jutting forward by inches with a deep cleavage and fat nipples aimed at the floor. Rafiq’s chest wasn’t nearly as massive or mountainous, and he had yet to develop that valley between his pectoral mounds, but his chest was keenly defined and striated with cables of obvious brawn.
His dark skin was coated in sweat and he seemed almost to be glowing. I could understand now how he had been able to change his body so dramatically in a week, if I could tell the difference between what he looked like now versus what he looked like only minutes earlier.
I’d seen a “good pump” on guys before, but this wasn’t that. It wasn’t that he’d pushed blood into his muscles—the muscles themselves were physically larger.
It was beyond belief.
I reached towards him without even thinking, and he moved so I could touch him. His skin was slick and warm and his muscles were thick and hard. His cock jumped as I moved my touch across his chest and he closed his eyes and breathed slowly and deeply as if my gentle, curious stroking were the most passionate embrace.
He swallowed hard and opened his mouth, gulping in air as my hand moved onto his rippled six-pack. His dick jumped again, rubbing itself against my forearm and leaving a string of warm pre-cum on my own flesh.
I moved my hand over his skin and purposely avoided touching his raging, throbbing hard-on. Heat was pouring off his naked body and his breathing grew harsh and shaky. “Touch it,” he said very softly.
“Touch what?” I asked teasingly, knowing what he meant.
“Touch my prick,” he said. “Please.”
I hovered my hand around the shaft of his cock, but didn’t touch him. He opened his eyes and looked down at what I was doing. “Touch it,” he repeated.
I move my open grip down the inches of his thick cock, but refused to do as he asked. I moved my hand back up, open-palmed, still not touching him directly. His belly tightened and he licked his lips and his jock jumped and swelled and a thick release of honey erupted at its mouth and drooled down its length.
I hovered my hand just above the throbbing tip of his eager, hungry cock and moved it in little circles, still not touching him directly. “Ah, fuck,” he said, moaning. “Gonna cum.”
I moved my hand back down him, along the hot surface of his meat, and his cock flexed again, swollen and hard, and pumped another thick delivery of pre-cum. I still wasn’t touching him, but it was evident that something was happening.
“Gonna fucking cum,” he repeated. I looked up and he was watching me hovering my hand around his hard-on, biting his bottom lip and visibly tense and anxious. His muscles were stark and bulging and his whole body looked hard.
Spontaneous ejaculation isn’t entirely unusual, but it often requires some form of direct stimulation to the body. Some nipple pinching or butt hole teasing, for example. I wasn’t even touching him but I could see the effect I was having on his libido. His cock turned nearly purple with the blood supply suddenly feeding into it and the veins along its thick neck bulged and throbbed. The helmet seemed to bloom, inflating and extending and suddenly he gasped and shot forth a fat stream of pearlescent cream, erupting from his throbbing meat like a fountain.
His cum shot forth in a thick, profound flood as he gasped and shook and moaned with obvious orgasmic bliss. It landed on my arm and cheek and, startled, I grabbed him suddenly and then he really let go, and I felt his cock swell in my grip and grow even hotter as he pushed a second fat delivery up the hard inches of his throbbing meat and showered me in a second gushing delivery.
I held on as he came over and over, his whole body seemingly suffused in an overwhelming rush of sexual pleasure, pumping fat torrents of hot cum as if he had no control over it, almost like a victim of his own uncontrollable masculine power. I heard a deep, guttural growl and glanced at John and he was coming, as well, his monster prick engorged to its unbelievably massive extents, a towering pole of meat, thick and beautiful, engorged with sex, that was erupting fat fountains of pearlescent cream that splattered against his enormous pectoral globes and all over his cobblestone belly.
He was watching Rafiq’s cock spitting cream and he was groaning—a deep, primitive rumble from his enormous muscular chest—and gulping in air as his mammoth body sent out thick waves of his sexually powerful scent and his sexually powerful brain broadcast the sensation of the world’s most potent orgasm to whomever was in proximity to feel it, as if its power was too much to contain or control.
The two young men were exploding with cum and sex and I was at the focal point of it, like a storm of purest intense fuck. I was drowning in something I can not name, overwhelmed by its power and unable to withstand its command. My cock ripped free, seemingly swelling by new inches and throbbing as hard as steel, and my balls seized up and I began pumping my own delivery of rich, hot cream. I gasped for air and every inhalation was saturated with John’s male perfume, as gorgeous as a Greek god and just as powerful.
I am not aware of how long this lasted, our mutual explosion of masculine sex, and I’m not sure I was entirely lucid for every second of it, either. It felt like it would never end, like I was going to be living inside that moment of complete ecstasy forever, with my erection pumping an endless stream of cum as my balls bulged with my load and my prick throbbed and swelled and shot fountains of endless cream.
Needless to say, my office, when we recovered, was a fucking cum swamp. Practically everything had some on it, because between the three of us (though mostly, of course, due to John’s unending supply) pints of thick pearlescent cum were splattered like a Pollock all over the place. Some of it even got all the way to the ceiling—again, the most likely culprit there is John. The man has a cannon attached to his balls.
“Holy fuck,” John said, in his deepest growl. He pushed sweaty locks of hair from his face and then reached forward and drew the end of his monster towards his mouth and licked and sucked the cum off it like cleaning frosting off a cupcake. I watched him swallow it and then begin to clean several inches of his prick with his long, slick tongue. He noticed me watching, smiled, winked, and then sent the sensation of his hot, warm tongue wrapping around my cock, too.
Rafiq was breathing hard and his newly grown muscles were coated in sweat and cum. His cock had delivered a mighty load as well, and his broad smooth chest and cobblestone belly were washed with his load. It was dripping along his glistening skin and he moved his fingers into it and gathered some up, bringing his cream to his lips and sucking it off his digits.
My cock was still throbbing. It had somehow actually managed to bust through the zipper on my pants with its strength and need and shoved its way out, but before that it had pumped a thick, warm pool of pre inside my shorts that was now growing cold. I stood up and my cock felt incredibly heavy, as if it were made from iron, and retained most of its superhuman hardness. Thick veins wound around its long neck and a drool of cum was hanging from the tip.
“I’m gonna attempt to get cleaned up,” I announced. Rafiq looked up at the sound of my voice, then looked down at my still-firm cock and took the remaining cream off my tip and sucked than inside his mouth, as well. I throbbed and shook when he touched me, realizing that I was still incredibly sensitive. Cleaning myself up might prove interesting.
John was just licking the cum off his body, his incredible flexibility helping him manage to reach nearly everywhere he’s splattered, and then Rafiq joined in with his talented lips and tongue and together they were bathing John’s muscles of the wealth of cum he’d exploded. I walked awkwardly from my office to the hallway bathroom, my dick pointing before me like a dousing rod.
The lights in the restroom turned themselves on and without warning I was looking at my naked self in the mirror. My skin was glistening with sweat and cum and I was skill breathing hard, making my chest inflate and rise and my belly to extend and recede.
If you’re waiting for me to tell you that I, too, had grown, such was not the case. No miraculous physical changes seemed to have manifested, other than the still-throbbing monster erection rising from my loins as if I hadn’t just exploded with cum. I stood there looking at myself, looking at my nude body, looking at my cock, and I could feel my libido begin to swell anew.
I smiled, imagining coming again, wanting to feel that perfect pleasure as I built towards eruption, feeling my balls sizzling and my mouth grow dry and my nipples tingling. I focused my attention on my cock in my reflection, and I squeezed my ass hole to watch it swell and rise.
It did, as expected, but then it remained there, as if I had pumped growth into it by squeezing my hole. I tried again, watching the blood-gorged shaft grow even darker and the helmet to flare and bloom and the small lips of my cock parted and a guzzle of pre swelled there and drained down my hard-on.
I could feel it like sudden heat. I ached to grasp my dick and start stroking it, feeling its hardness and heat in my palm, slowly pulsing and swelling ever larger as I felt myself start to pump more pre, like a natural lube that made my cock look as it it were made of glass.
My breathing slowed and my gaze narrowed as all my concentration and attention became focussed on my cock. I gazed upon it like a miracle or a wonder, so huge and beautiful, throbbing with sex. It felt ponderous and hot, as if it was growing heavier as I watched, thicker and harder.
I was leaking pre-cum copiously now, almost constantly. It made me feel even hornier. Like a beast feeding upon itself, my libido was growing stronger in the sensation of feeling so horny, looking at myself in the mirror, and specifically at my mouth-watering cock.
I behaved as I had done with Rafiq, moving my hand near my prick but not onto it, moving my hand near my cock but not stroking it, hovering my thumb over the soft, pliant tip of my raging erection but not dipping my touch into the warm reservoir of sex constantly leaking from its mouth.
My load was building like a flood against a dam. I was practically coming with pre, producing a constant stream of honey that continued to drape down the throbbing red surface of my thick and steel-hard cock. And all I was doing was standing there, looking at my reflection in the mirror.
And I suddenly realized how sexy I was. I could not seem in the moment to turn away from myself. That man in my reflection was radiating sex against me, like a wet heat suffusing my skin. If I were to open my mouth I would feel it on my tongue and swallow it whole. I could feel it leaking from my hand, held so close to my prick, as if trailing threads of pure masculine power were attaching themselves to my cock from that hand, and feeding it sex.
I gasped, hard.
I closed my eyes.
I exploded with cum.