The guy said it was a curse. I mean, it’s wild that it came true, sure. And the guy—he’s just this short, messy-haired Croatian twunk gofer from my dad’s law firm stuck schlepping docs out to the house. I’ve seen dozens of ‘em. I open the door in just my trunks (‘cause I like to make an impression on the randos who come to the house—c’mon, why not?) and this one stomps past me like I’m not there and drops a thick stack-o’-files the big foyer table, muttering to himself the whole time about how my dad’s running him ragged with one stupid errand after another. I’m thinking, dude, you probably see ten times more of him than I do. So I joke that he should be thankful my dad kept him busy—I’m so bored I got nothing better to do than lie by the pool all day sucking my own dick. Okay, I mean it as a joke, but he probably sees it as heinous bragging. My bad.
And he’s so pissed, he must mean it as a curse when he suddenly rakes those crazy blue eyes over me and hisses “Sudjenica make it true,” whoever that is. Then he gets all mad at himself and he spins around and storms out in a huff, bitching under his breath about how he’d used up his one family curse for the year on the “wastrel heir” when he should’ve saved it for my dad. So, definite intent there, for sure.
But honestly, how could it be a curse? I mean, I can actually do it now. It’s so easy, it’s a joke.
I kind of could before. I’m pretty flexible from all the wrestling at school—we have to be able to twist around and contort ourselves like muscley rubber or something, and I’ve always been really good at getting my body to do stuff. And I was decently big before down there, but… okay, I have to tell you about my new dick. It’s huge! So huge. I’m sitting here naked in one of the deck chairs by the pool out back, and my giant boner is so big it, like, tops out at my fucking collarbone! I’m serious, all I have to do is look down at it and the slit is just staring at me, all messy with jizz and pre-jizz, and the head is, like, an inch from my mouth! So you can probably guess what I’ve been doing all day.
And it’s not just long, either. It’s crazy thick. I’m extremely girthy, guys. I can’t even get one hand around it, not even close. In the middle it’s, like, four, five inches across easy. Any bigger and I’d have trouble getting it in my mouth, to be honest. It totally hides my washboard six-pack, too, which is a damn shame ‘cause I worked hard to make my abs astonishingly awesome and now you can’t see ‘em. Hey, maybe that’s the curse! Heh.
It’s heavy, too. It’s like this pillar of concrete jutting out of my groin—I can feel the weight of it in my crotch, though I guess whatever made me big boosted my groin muscles too because I feel strong down there, like I could carry a dude around on my giant dick all day. Heh, now I’m picturing that muscle-twink intern hanging from my pole while I walk around. Him doing pull-ups on my dick, wearing nothing but those charcoal slacks, that hard, cut body of his starting to get sweaty as he exerts himself, and… fuck, I’m gonna cum again, hold on.
Unh, shit, that was a big one. The truth is I’ve been cumming all day. Like, constantly. It’s weird, I think my balls got an upgrade too because they won’t stop making jizz. It’s like, I blow this massive load, barely getting all my spunk gulped down ‘cause there’s so much of it, and even as I’m swallowing the last bit I can feel it welling up again. The next orgasm is coming before I’m even done with the last one. I’m like a cum machine. At first I was like, am I ever going to get soft again? And I was kind of laughing about it because it feels so good to be hard when your dick is this fucking massive, I almost didn’t care if I had to walk around like this forever. Honestly, just being raging hard, it’s like that high you get after a workout, only ten times better, and constant, nonstop. But it wasn’t just being crazy boned all the time. It’s like I have an infinite number of orgasms stacked up, all waiting to pounce on me as soon as I’m done with the one I’m already working on. I finish one, slurping up as much of my amped-up jizz-bounty as I can while the euphoria washes over me, and the next one hits. I don’t even have stroke myself, though of course stroking myself pushes the whole pleasure thing to eleven. Just a stroke from one finger along my spunk-slippery furnace-hot dick and I’m ready to shoot.
But, seriously, it starts again every time. Every time! I pull my mouth off my dick, panting and sweaty, my chin and chest slick with cum, and I feel it welling up—a new orgasm, shivering my spine and curling my toes, and I can only hold off a minute or two before I have to feel that delicious doubly-pleasant sensation as I wrap my mouth around the head again, or else the precum will start sloshing over my whole damn torso and pooling on the concrete. It’s not like it’s a hardship really—my mouth loves, loves, loves having my enormous hot dick shoved in it as deep as it will go, and my enormous dick… well, it literally can’t get enough of being sucked, especially by me.
I don’t think it’s going to stop. It doesn’t… it doesn’t feel like it’s ever going to stop.
Okay, maybe there’s a bit of a curse in there.
It’s been three or four hours—the sun’s dropping and it’s getting toward dinnertime, though I’m not really hungry, I guess ‘cause my stomach’s full of jizz—and I’m building up to another big one when I hear the doorbell ring. I freeze with my mouth wrapped around my dick, twenty seconds tops from blowing the most massive load down my throat. I breathe through my nose, trying to steady myself. The doorbell rings again. I sigh through my nose. I get up, releasing my tool for the moment with a wet plop, and go to the door. My dick is staying straight up like it’s a natural law of the universe my dickhead has to be as close as possible to my mouth at all times. I don’t even think about clothes—what would be the point?
So I open the door and there’s the twunky intern in his tight white shirt and dark tie. He’s all hunched and guilty, only I can see there’s more than just regret in those crazy lit-up eyes. He looks up and me and says, “So, you… need a hand with that thing?”
I feel a crooked smile twisting my mouth as I imagine not just his hand but every single glistening cum-slick square inch of this hard young dude being rubbed and mashed against my oversized cock. Shit. Without warning I start spitting hot jizz all over my face. I get my mouth over it just a few seconds too late. As I guzzle down the last bit of my latest climax, warm and flushed all over, buzzed and glassy-eyed from the wild, unabated pleasure, my face wet with cum and sweat, I see an impressively long pink tongue sneak out of the muscle-twink’s mouth as he takes in the sight of me having just my blown my colossal wad.
So I grab him and drag him inside, thinking that the only thing hotter than a giant-cock-with-unending-super-oragasm curse has got to be sharing it with the guy who gave it to you.
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