The power of suggestion: The coffee shop

by NBCK99

Having the power of suggestion leads you into a lot of temptation, but nothing compared to meeting Clay in line at the coffee shop.

Power of Suggestion, #5 3,055 words Added Aug 2016 16k views 4.6 stars (22 votes)

You may be looking for the following similarly named story: Power by R o T ca.

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I won’t say I was reckless with my ability, but I wasn’t exactly as responsible as I probably should have been. Granted, a few times it had been completely accidental. The first time I discovered my ability, I had been talking with my best friend about jacking off. We were horny high schoolers, and he’d just confessed that he jacked off every morning and evening as if that was really weird or something. I jokingly corrected him, saying, “You mean you suck yourself off every morning and evening, right?”

He got all quiet and nodded. “I didn’t think anyone realized I was big enough to do that,” he told me. I glanced down at his bulge and it looked huge. Then all of a sudden I remembered that it had always been huge. I remembered all the guys staring in the locker room before gym class. It was the craziest thing. I got freaked out after that, and I didn’t dare say anything else. Well, until that time I joked that his blow jobs were the best since he’d practiced on his own cock. He’d never given me a blow job before that. Except I suddenly remembered that it was a sort of weekly ritual that we had on Friday afternoons after school was out for the week.

There were other little things, times when I tested the bounds of reality. Telling a gym rat how amazing his four muscular arms look, telling that cute guy at the bar he’s a dead ringer for Chris Pine, telling a hot date he’s the best kisser in the world. Okay, so that last one was a complete accident, and I had no idea he’d become a porn star because of his ability to make guys cum just by making out with them. Anyway, I wasn’t as careful as I could have been, but I never let myself go too deep down the rabbit hole of escalating suggestions. Until I met Clay.

Clay was the very cute, very sweet guy who always ended up at the coffee shop at the same time as me. Several times I ended up in line just behind him, and I listened as he ordered with an adorable slight southern drawl. I noticed that he was invariably friendly with the staff and they all knew him by name. And I noticed his lovely strawberry blond hair and pale, slightly freckled skin, his deep blue eyes, and his long body with shoulders, pecs, and arms that always showed nicely under his shirt. One day I finally struck up a conversation with him after he turned suddenly and nearly collided with me. He apologized profusely, and something about his sweet sincerity combined with his extra cute boy next door looks just hooked me.

It turned out we worked across the street from each other, and we both came into the shop for coffee every morning right before heading up to the office. After that conversation, I couldn’t stop thinking of him. We talked a couple more times before he worked up the courage to tell me I looked really handsome in my shirt and tie. I responded before I could think. “You look great too, although your shirt doesn’t seem to do a very good job of containing your pecs.” His pale green shirt, which had been buttoned all the way up, had the top two buttons undone, and the next two buttons were straining badly over a pair of huge, heavy pecs. Clay blushed.

“I don’t try to cause a scene,” he told me with that slight drawl. “I just can’t seem to find shirts that fit right. The ones that fit over my pecs are too big for the rest of me.”

“It looks great,” I assured him. “But you don’t bother wearing shirts at all when you don’t have to, right?” Already I could tell I was getting way too into this, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

“I hardly own any shirts besides my dress shirts for work,” he confided. “They just seem... useless to me. You must feel the same way, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m shirtless whenever I can be,” I said. And I knew it was true. I literally never wore a shirt in my apartment. This was new territory. I’d never tried suggesting anything about myself. I’d never even imagined that possibility. But now I wanted to become whatever Clay wanted. And I felt certain that he was suggestible enough that it would come true. It was not lost on me that his name meant something to be molded and sculpted, and now I was doing exactly that.

“It’s just so freeing not having to wear a shirt, right?” Clay said. “I hate when my pecs are confined.”

“Me too. My pecs aren’t quite as big as yours, but they’re pretty close.” Actually, while I did have some decent pecs thanks to consistent workouts, they weren’t nearly the size of Clay’s. Except they were. I reached a hand up to my chest where my tie had disappeared and my top buttons were undone. “It seems your chest isn’t the only part of you that wants to escape its confines,” I told Clay, glancing down at his bulge. “How do you keep your cocks comfortable in your dress slacks?”

“It’s a bit of a challenge,” he admitted. “Having two cocks—”

“Three.”

“Having three cocks can be a bit unwieldy. I like to just let them hang loose when I can.”

“And you get your work slacks specially tailored. That’s the only way you can fit your four sixteen inch cocks in there, right?”

Clay’s eyes widened. “How’d you guess the exact length? Are you psychic or something?”

We were still standing in the middle of the coffee shop talking about Clay’s huge cocks, but we were both too lost in the conversation to care. I was completely wrapped up in changing my hot man in front of me. It was becoming like a game, which I knew was dangerous, but I was already way beyond caring. “I’m not psychic, but I can see through your pants. If I really concentrate.”

Clay grinned. “I wish I had a power like that.”

“You know, I didn’t discover that power until right after I started coming to this coffee shop.”

“Wait, you aren’t saying...”

“This coffee does seem extra special. And have you noticed how all the baristas seem to stare really hard at us?” Clay nodded slowly. “I’m pretty sure the coffee here is what lets me see through clothes. There’s one way to test that theory though.”

Clay fixed a very intent gaze on my body. “You’ve got very nice abs,” he said. “Wow, this is amazing!”

“They’re not as defined as yours.”

“Your cock looks great too. Am I really making you that hard?”

“My cocks are usually hard. But your attention is definitely adding to that.”

“Good. Those two beautiful cocks should always be hard.” Before I could start suggesting anything else, he leaned in and kissed me. Right there in the middle of the coffee shop. Not that I cared. I thought we’d shared a strong connection before, but the kiss amplified it tenfold. I wanted him, needed him, so bad.

“You are such an amazing kisser,” I breathed. I knew better than to tell him he was the best kisser in the world. I did tell him, “I love how your tongue seems to lengthen as we kiss.”

“It gets more sensitive too.”

“I think I read something about that. It’s a rare condition. And when you kiss someone, they temporarily gain the effects of that condition.” I allowed my elongated tongue to roll out of my mouth, and I smiled seductively. In moments Clay and I were entwining our enhanced tongues. I could feel my tongue still lengthening, and I broke off the kiss before my tongue would impede my speech too much. “It’s a good thing we both have such good control of our tongues when they start lengthening. We can lengthen or retract them at will.”

“I wish that applied to my cocks too.” He kissed me again before I could respond.

Eventually I pulled away from the kiss and said, “You and I both have that ability. Your cocks are usually sixteen inches soft, but in their natural state they hang down to your ankles. Mine are usually—”

“A foot long.”

I could swear I already felt my cocks growing. “Mine are usually a foot long, but their full length is—”

“Six feet. Soft.”

“Six feet soft.” Shit, what was I saying? “They naturally stay a foot long when I’m wearing pants, though, and I have to will them up to full size even when I’m naked.”

“But you’re naked whenever possible.”

“Yeah, I’m naked whenever possible, but at least I own shirts. I don’t think you own any.”

Clay rubbed a hand over his bare chest and I was tempted to do the same. “I gotta show these puppies off,” he said.

“Well, having four arms probably makes it hard for you to find shirts to wear anyway.”

“It makes a fine excuse for why I don’t wear shirts. Who’s gonna make me a custom four-armed shirt?”

“I own plenty,” I told him. I couldn’t stop talking, although the weight of two new arms hanging at my sides was a definite distraction. “You could just borrow one of mine. If you weren’t so much taller than me.”

“I’m not that tall.”

“You’re 9’2”. You’re literally the tallest person ever.”

“You’re, what, a foot shorter than me?”

“I’m 8’3”.” I felt myself suddenly jump up in height.

“See, you’re still head and shoulders above everyone else here.”

Suddenly I couldn’t take it anymore. Everything about the situation was just too hot. “I need to get out of here,” I breathed.

Clay put two of his hands on my wide shoulders and stared into my eyes. “I’m sure you can come up with something.” How aware was he of what I was doing? I really had no idea.

“I’ve heard... when two four-armed guys press their hands together...” Within moments Clay was pressing all four of his palms into mine. “They can connect their minds and... and... teleport.”

I kept fearing that eventually I would say something so outrageous that Clay would be surprised and it would break the spell. But it never happened. He simply nodded and said, “Let’s try it. Where to?”

“My apartment. Connect your mind with mine, and I’ll take the lead.” I could actually feel Clay’s mind somewhere deep in my consciousness. And I knew I could teleport us effortlessly. “Close your eyes,” I instructed. I closed mine too, and I knew when I opened them we’d be in my apartment. The moment I opened my eyes, I hardly had a chance to confirm that we were in my apartment before Clay was kissing me passionately. Before long he was frantically unbuttoning my shirt as if he just couldn’t bear to leave my pecs in their confines. Before I knew it we both had our pants off and I was letting my dicks grow out toward their natural length. I wondered just how huge they’d get. I’d always been more of a grower than a shower, so if I was six feet soft... shit. I knew I had gotten way too carried away, but it was far too late to turn back.

I started getting lost in the sensation of my two cocks swelling up and up and up, but Clay’s voice brought me back to reality. “You can control the size of your cocks,” he said, echoing what I had said earlier. I nodded. He had an intensity in his eyes, an earnestness and eagerness. “Can you control the number?”

“Yeah, I can control the number. I’ve had as many as—”

“Eight.”

“I’ve had as many as eight, but two feels much more manageable.” My head started to hurt as I developed memories of mind-blowing octuple orgasms.

Clay stared at my cocks, which were already longer than my legs. His four were all longer than his torso and still growing. “But sometimes isn’t just one better?” He laid all four of his hands on one of my massive boners. I gasped in pleasure.

“Just push them together,” I said. “Start at the base. When you push them together they’ll become one extra thick cock.” I almost stopped there, but I just couldn’t help myself. “And if you rub my precum on your cocks... you’ll be able to do the same thing to your cocks... or split them apart.”

Clay was clearly excited by that prospect, but he focused on my towering cocks. He put two hands on the base of each of my cocks and pushed. The sensation of feeling my two cocks merged into one was nearly enough to make me blow right then. Clay moved away from me, pushing feet and feet of my cocks together. Shit, I felt like I took up the whole room. I was fully boned and probably a more than eight feet long. Hell, my cock was at least as long as my newly enhanced body was tall. Clay finally pushed my extra sensitive cockheads together, and while I managed not to cum, a flood of pre flowed out of my impossibly enormous cock. I felt four hands rubbing the slick head of my cock, and I instantly realized what Clay was doing. I had produced more than enough pre for him to rub all over his four four-foot-plus cocks. I watched as he pulled them apart until he had eight thin but perfect, beautifully long cocks.

Clay looked down at himself and then at my ridiculously huge boner. “Well, this is all amazingly hot, but it’ll be pretty hard to fuck in this state.”

I smirked, thinking of my ability to change reality with a couple words. “I’m sure I could think of something.”

Clay mirrored my smirk. He heart leapt. I realized that somewhere amidst the sexiness and the changing I’d completely fallen for him. “I could too.”

I was so enamored in that moment that I didn’t think before speaking. I just said, “Suggest something.”

Clay took a few steps, making his way from my gigantic cockhead toward my body. His eyes twinkled. “Well, I really love when a guy fucks me with his tongue.”

“Like a rim job?”

“No, when his tongue turns into an actual cock ‘cause he’s so turned on. You know, like yours is right now.”

My eyes widened. I was going to say something, suggest something else... but I could barely move my lips around the thick boner protruding from my mouth. As I tried to speak, every movement of my lips just turned me on more. Clay stepped closer, and since I couldn’t speak I told him everything he needed to know with my eyes. I felt only desperate need and desire.

“Fuck my mouth,” Clay commanded, and he wrapped his lips around my cocktongue and kissed me. My cocktongue seemed to engorge even more as his tongue lapped at it. I moaned, which seemed to be the only sound I was capable of. It was the strangest sensation, thrusting my cocktongue into Clay’s mouth, but it was utterly amazing. It was like the most mind-blowing kiss combined with an expert blowjob. And Clay was certainly an expert. He took my whole length easily, and his tongue continuously found the most sensitive parts of my cocktongue. I didn’t want Clay to be left out of the intense pleasure, so I grabbed one of his ultra-long cocks with each of my four hands. His four hands migrated to the other four. We stroked his eight cocks in rhythm with the thrusting of my cocktongue, and my giant, engorged boner swelled and pulsed too.

I got so lost in all the overwhelming sensations that I almost didn’t realize when I was passing the point of no return. I grunted just in time to warn Clay that I was about to cum. As the huge, sensitive cock in my mouth exploded into Clay’s mouth, I was completely overwhelmed with bliss. I felt Clay’s cocks erupt in my hands. I came and came into Clay’s mouth, and somehow he was able to keep swallowing. The pleasure was so intense that my nine foot cock began to erupt without any stimulation. Wave after wave of cum flowed through me like I was a firehose. Finally the orgasm subsided, leaving me in a state of blissed out contentment. Clay was still kissing me, playing with my soft cocktongue. Finally he broke away.

“You have a cock for a tongue,” he said, as if realizing for the first time. “It’s only a cock when you’re turned on,” he added. “Like, really, really turned on. Oh, and for a couple minutes after you cum. So I can kiss your soft cock like this.” And with that he leaned in to kiss my soft cocktongue, which already felt a little more like a tongue and less like a cock. I wondered why he was stating all of that, though. It was simple fact. My cock had always been like that, right? Something tickled at the back of my mind, but I dismissed it. Clay became more serious. “You’re mine.”

“And you’re mine.”

And we kissed and kissed. And then I felt my tongue boning up again, and I was in heaven.

Power of Suggestion, #5 3,055 words Added Aug 2016 16k views 4.6 stars (22 votes)

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