But as anyone who dates regularly knows, a nonstop diet of safe and steady is smart but boring. You gotta shake things up every once in a while—tear up the town with a night you’ll never forget, even if you’ve gone back to the stability of what’s good for you in the long run.
The universe has stuff like that, too. Little trips and triggers strewn through the cosmos that create scary little vacations from the safe and steady, in lots of different and random ways.
One of these … is the blue banana.
Mike trudged up out of the subway two blocks from his apartment almost unbearably hung over, wondering how much he could have drunk last night at Drew’s birthday shindig to get himself this messed up. Though the sky was still dark with only a meager trace of dawn behind the buildings to the east, Mike had his sunglasses securely in place, his eyes even less able to cope with the damned stimulus-intense Chelsea morning than his apparently oatmeal-encrusted brain, or what were surely his cement-shoed feet.
Finally alighting from the subways stairwell onto street level, Mike found himself face to face with the corner bodega, what he could see of it through his dark glasses. All at once he felt a wave of both intense hunger and another, more overpowering, of appetite-erasing nausea. He stood unsteadily before the bodega entrance, unsure how to deal with these conflicting sensations, until his eyes fell on the pile of bag-clad banana bunches among the other produce displays out front on the sidewalk. Bananas and milk. He’d always been able to get that down when he was sick.
He grabbed a random bunch and headed into the store, failing to see—thanks to his sunglasses and generally impaired state—that it contained, in the midst of all the normal bananas with the usual yellow-verging-into-green coloring, one that verged from yellow not into green but into a pale cyan. Nor did he notice, as he collapsed onto his sofa in his apartment a while later, his sunglasses still on, that the banana he’d wrenched off the bunch in his haste for stomach-calming comfort food was the blue one. He stretched out on the couch and ate it distractedly as he waited for the room to stop spinning, swigged a few too-big swallows of milk straight from the half-gallon jug, and allowed himself to drift off into sleep as he sat, open milk on the floor, empty banana skin still in his hand, not knowing that the blue banana had already opened up one of those vacations from the normal the universe occasionally craves.
Whether the universe accounts for smart-asses in such cases is an open question.
He snapped awake a few hours later to the loud techno ringtone of his iPhone. He sat up slightly, disoriented in the dark room but aware he was feeling slightly more competent, and wondered where that loud phone was. He eventually realized must still stowed in his front jeans pocket. He looked down from where he lay on the couch and frowned, spotting the banana skin draped across his jeans (from where it had fallen out of his hand). He brushed the peel aside and hauled the phone out with clumsy hands, almost knocking over the carton of milk on the floor next to the couch as he did so, and answered gruffly, “Hello?”
A cheery voice answered, “Wow, someone had a rough night. Meet anyone hot at Drew’s party?”
“No,” Mike answered, falling back to one side so that he could lie on the couch properly. “That’s why it was rough.”
“C’mon,” Ed said warmly. “They’re all losing out. You’re one sexy man.”
“Oh, for sure,” Mike said sarcastically. “I’m unbelievably hot. I’m a total hunk and I never even noticed,” he added with a dry laugh. He sighed, sliding, as he had a habit of doing lately, from sarcasm into a bit of defeatism. “The problem is, everyone I meet is so much hotter than I am.”
Of course, if Mike had known that the effect of this particular reality-vacation-trigger, the blue banana, was to render its ingester’s words literally true (for as long as the banana was still in his system, anyway), he’d never have said all that. But then, if the agent knew about the trigger’s power, he’d be tempted into balance-destructive greed and who knows what else. Not knowing, oddly enough, things tend to balance out in a new equilibrium. The agent’s changes are, consequently, preordained to always be seamless and invisible.
As in the case of this command that rendered all the people that Mike had ever met or would meet significantly more physically attractive than Mike—a dramatic change, considering that the formerly kinda cute, ordinary-build Mike was now a super-cute-faced, floppy-blond-haired, classically proportioned and diligently gym-groomed, 21-year-old Mike—not only himself magnetically, breath-catchingly attractive, but on top of that oblivious to how hot he was, compared to how everyone else really was that much hotter even than him.
Mike didn’t know anything had changed. He just … knew that what he’d said was pretty much true—everyone he’d ever been introduced to, become acquaintances with, or gotten to know as a friend or coworker was boner-inducing gorgeous. He was an 8 in a world of 12s, he thought. Even the Union Square restaurant where he worked (for now), with its reputation as a tourist magnet, seemed to draw, sometimes frustratingly for Mike’s ego if not his libido, only the kind of built, gorgeous tourists that made Mike want to rip their clothes off and fuck them on the salad bar. Even the women were so hot they could get him hard if he was horny enough, and that despite the fact that Mike was and always had been solidly into guys.
And all of his waitstaff coworkers, even his best buddy Ed, were jack-off-material-level smoking hot.
“It’s like ‘hot’ has become the new average. Like you, Ed,” he went on wistfully. “Fuck, you’re the hottest guy I know, and that’s saying something. Your amazing body, your perfect face—god. Just talking to you turns me on.” He let Ed’s image seep through his mind. “You’re so beautiful,” he said.
“Stop,” Ed said with a laugh, though he was used to the admiration others gave him because of his uncanny beauty. He’d always thought of himself as being modest and humble, but his one worry was that all this love people gave him constantly would grow his ego out of control sooner or later. “You’re gonna give me a big head,” he warned half-seriously.
“Naw man, that’s the best part,” Mike said. “You don’t even care how gorgeous you are, you stay humble. That’s why I can talk to you about all this. You’re so hot you make all the guys hard … and you don’t even realize.” Mike paused to remember the first time he’d spring a sudden, rock-hard boner just from being introduced to Mike. And he knew his superhot fellow waiters, not to mention all the suddenly flustered customers, were the same way. “Fuck, I think your gorgeousness rubs off on ‘em. And that body—shit, you must work out every day. It’s like you’re a walking wet dream, man.” Mike realized he was hard again just from hearing Ed’s voice, picturing his firm, chiseled, gorgeous face, his softly sweeping blond hair falling on perfectly muscled shoulders … He sighed.
Ed started to object, but he realized he had been hitting the gym daily the last few weeks. His hand drifted idly over his physique through his tee shirt. “C’mon, all you need is some confidence-building,” Ed said. “Repeat after me: ‘I am gorgeous’.”
“You’re gorgeous,” Mike replied playfully, slowly stroking his meat.
“C’mon, do it right,” Ed teased. “Say ‘I am gorgeous’.” When Mike hesitated he added, “If you say it properly I’ll let you kiss me again.”
“I am gorgeous!” Mike said immediately.
“Say ‘I am just as gorgeous as Ed’.”
“I’m not though.”
“Remember what your prize is?” Ed taunted him.
Mike hesitated for a moment, then said hesitantly, “I’m…just as gorgeous as Ed?”
“Good. You are, by the way. That’s the point. If anything you’re hotter than me.”
“Fuck no. You’re the hottest guy I know.”
“Besides yourself!” He heard Mike’s steady breathing and smiled. “Geez, you’re boned again, right?” Ed said, sounding slightly amused. He’d known Mike long enough to know that he was stimulated pretty much all the time, especially when he was with Ed.
Mike resorted to his regular defense mechanism—sarcastic exaggeration. Making other people grin helped him distract himself from his maddening fate of being surrounded by dozens of men of heart-pounding, boner-achingly superior beauty. “It’s ridiculous,” he said with a disarming laugh. “I must be the only dude in New York who’s got a big hard boner 24/7.” And unfortunately for Mike his permanent hard-on, born of being surrounded by the constant stimulus of heart-pounding beauty, was now no longer a colorful exaggeration but the actual, literal truth.
“At least you got a healthy peace of meat there,” Ed said, both sympathetic and intrigued. Ed had seen the up-angled outline of Mike’s perma-boner in his work slacks, but the occasion to see the Iron Rod (as it was nicknamed affectionately behind Mike’s back) in all its up-front, in-person glory had never, well, arisen.
Mike heard the liquid sex in his buddy’s voice and rolled his eyes, knowing that Ed was out of his league. “Yeah, it’s huge,” he said, resorting as ever to sexy banter, overcompensating—as usual—for everyone else being so painfully hot. “I’ll tell you a secret—being hard all the time makes it grow,” he joked.
“I thought your bulge was bigger than when you first started,” Ed laughed, even as he was finally able to express something he’d wondered about over the year they’d worked together. He’d never been really been that much into cock, though since he’d become more or less aware that every guy he met was unfailingly into him he’d figured, what the fuck, and taken up quite a few incredibly hot guys on their offers to sell him on the joys of a big hard dick. He was more appreciative than he’d used to be, and Mike’s was obviously something impressive.
“Yup, definitely,” Mike said. Unaware, he’d slid right into the new reality. He had become aware as far back as puberty that his cock had in fact been slowly bit steadily growing, but he decided to tease Ed and embellish a bit. “It grows like a whole inch a year, dude.”
“Fuck, dude, that’s hot.” Ed didn’t have to lie—not that he was actually getting aroused, but still, every guy appreciated cocks enough to be intrigued by a boner that kept creeping upward in size and girth. And he knew he could fluster his buddy by egging him on a bit, which was always fun.
Mike looked down at the obscene monster shaft thrusting straight up out of his jeans as he lay on the couch. “Yeah, it sure is. Fuck, I’m turning you on, aren’t I? I know I am.”
“Fuck yeah,” Ed found himself saying. Cocks getting bigger? Fuck. He was turned on. “I’ve been meaning to ask you to let me see it,” he confided. He let what Mike said sink in. “So if you hit puberty with a 6-incher at, say, age 10? So that means you have—what, 17 inches?”
In reality it was only 15 (a big improvement, if only he’d been aware of it, on the 9 inches it had been before Mike had hugely accelerated the annual growth; but that reality had dropped away into the void already, forgotten), but Mike was having fun getting his super-fuckable best friend riled up with his wild tales. His ever-expanding cock, he realized, gave him some leverage against all his friends’ radiant beauty, especially Ed’s. “Yeah—actually it’s up to 18 inches. And it gets wider, too, so now it’s super-thick. I know you love them super-thick,” he added teasingly. “That’s why you wanted to see it, right?”
“Dude,” Ed breathed. “I wanted to see it cause it’s huge.”
“Fuck yeah. I’m so hard right now.”
“You know I am.” Mike knew he had only to lean forward and lift up his monster perma-hard cock to start sucking himself, just as he normally spent a few hours of his day, everyday. He thought wryly that he and Ed had very different daily workout regimens.
He remembered having realized recently that his fat monster extra-wide cock fit perfectly in his mouth, like it belonged there, and lately he’d actually been hoping it wouldn’t grow too much more. He stared at his cock, licking his lips, and it stared back at him, looking thick and warm and juicy.
But it would be rude to do it while he was on the phone. Instead he watched a dollop of thick precum start to ooze out of his slit, and as it was just about to drip he drew his finger along it and brought the tasty dollop to his mouth. It tasted strong and just a little sweet. “I’m tasting my cum right now,” he said, just to tease Ed a little further.
“How is it?” Ed asked. He was trying to sound playful but was unable to keep a note of huskiness out of his voice.
“Amazing,” Mike said saucily, unable to resist leaning forward just enough to lick up another thick dollop with his tongue. He added expansively, “It’s the only food you’d ever need.” It did taste amazing, actually, and unexpectedly satisfying.
“Yeah?” came Ed’s reply. His breathing was audible over the phone.
“Oh yeah,” Mike said. “You could totally live off this stuff if you wanted to.” He bent forward for another lick of the thick salty fluid and thought he wouldn’t mind trying.
Ed managed a breathy laugh. “I bet,” he said. “Can you imagine?”
“Yeah,” Mike said. He was now actively stroking his extra-wide 18-incher with his free hand, making it drool a constant copious supply of thick precum. “I can imagine, actually. I got plenty. I probably leak more pre in a day than you cum all week. And my cum, man. It’s not like it’s ordinary cum.”
Ed was just able to hear Mike’s stroking over phone. His couldn’t believe how much his normally reserved buddy was unbending tonight. It was startlingly arousing. “I almost wish I were on that diet,” he breathed, still trying to keep a joking edge in his voice.
Mike snorted. “Well, then, I should let you in on a secret,” he teased. “You know how you always have that large-sized house salad for your dinner break?”
“Yeah?” Ed replied, very intrigued.
“What do you think that new salad dressing is that you’ve been loving the last two months?”
“No way!” Ed erupted, quickening the pace slightly on his own cock. “You’ve been cumming on my salad?!”
“Well,” Mike said, fleshing out his story gleefully, “I did it one time, two months ago, cause you kept saying you were sick of the dressings we had, so I was like, ‘fuck it’ and took it into the walk-in and, well, invented a new dressing. But then you loved it, so I did it every day. You almost caught me, you know, making it a couple times!”
“I wish I had.” Ed gasped as his own cock seemed to harden some more at the idea he’d been eating Mike’s “not ordinary” cum. He knew somehow that there really was something about the jizz he’d been regularly, if unknowingly, imbibing. “Fuck, I think your cum did something to me.”
“Yeah, it’s really powerful,” said Mike. Suddenly he felt an urgent desire to cum in his own mouth again. He needed to blast soon, very soon.
Ed was panting. “I bet it grew my cock a little,” he breathed.
“I know it did,” Mike said, no longer just idly spinning a tale. He was getting off on his own banter, diving deeper into the fantasy version of Ed he was imagining in his mind. “It grew everything, dude. Haven’t you noticed you’re bigger all over?”
“Yeah, but—” Ed lost track of what he was saying, letting go of his huge hard cock so he could hear the satisfying thwack of it slapping against his hard six-pack abs.
“You’ve gotten so jacked lately, man,” Mike said, really getting off on the realization that he had actually grown his friend. “I thought you’d been hitting the gym a lot, but now, fuck, I know it was my cum.”
“Yeah? You sure?” Ed said, just as excited as Mike. He knew he’d gotten bigger, but he really had thought the twenty pounds he’d suddenly put on were all from his daily workouts.
“Had to be,” Mike said. He put his phone on speaker and laid it on his chest so he could jack himself with both hands. He decided to lay it on thick, hoping Ed would play along with the exaggeration. “Who puts on 50 pounds of muscle in a couple months, man?” he said. “Who has to go from an L to an XXL in a month just because of his pecs?”
Ed sucked in his breath, watching his beautiful, thick pecs rise in front of him. He loved how huge his pecs were now, and now that he’d found out he loved the way he’d gotten them even more. “Only the guy eating your cum salad every day man,” Ed whispered.
“Not even mentioning how you’ve gotten taller, dude,” Mike said, no longer able to stop his fantasy sex talk. He didn’t even care if Ed played along now.
“I thought it was just this weird growth spurt,” Ed said aghast. “That was your cum too?!”
“Fuck yeah!” Mike said, delighted. He felt a flood of new arousal course through his entire body and settle in his enormous cock. “I grew you, dude! I grew you a foot taller! And you fucking love it!”
“Fuuuuck,” Ed moaned. He shifted his perfect, thickly muscled 7-foot-6 bod where he lay sprawled on his too-small sofa. He kept meaning to get a longer one, but ever time he thought about it he got side-tracked into thinking how deeply arousing it was that he’d gotten so tall.
“And your cock, dude. Fuck, your cock!” Mike went on.
Ed dutifully focused his attention on his hard, heavy rod. “It’s big,” he said appreciatively, grasping it in his fist, thinking about how awesome it was that his boner had gotten a few inches bigger too. “Maybe too big,” he added.
“Fuck, man, you love having a huge cock,” Mike said.
“Yeah,” Ed admitted. “I totally do.”
“It’s gotten so huge, dude,” Mike said, stroking his enormous boner rapidly. “It’s in your mouth even more than mine is in mine. Cause it’s right in your face whenever you’re boned.”
“I know, man,” agreed Ed. He was staring at the head, inches from his face.
“Dude, I’m sorry, I gotta—!” Mike said abruptly.
Hearing that Mike was about to cum pushed instantly Ed over the edge. “Me too!!” Eagerly, Ed wrapped his mouth around his impossibly huge cock even as Mike, back in his apartment, did the same.
After a few minutes of blowing their massive loads down their own throats they both lay back, panting. After a few pounding heartbeats Mike rasped into the phone, “One of these days we need to meet up and do that in person.”
“Absolutely,” Ed agreed, loving the taste of his own cum in his mouth. It tasted just slightly sweet and… sustaining. “I’ll tell you what else we need to do,” he panted.
“What?” asked Mike, intrigued.
“We need to put that new dressing on the menu.”
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