I watched Mike wolf down the remains of dinner enviously. He could eat as if we were still in college and not show the slightest change. I would eat a brownie and be in the gym for a week trying to get it off. “That was great” said Mike, licking his teeth. “You caught it” I replied, dumping the pan into the wash water. It was the first night of our yearly fishing trip, and I wanted to get the chores done fast.
Mike and I met in college. He was a sophomore when I was a freshman, and we were the closest to opposites you could get. He was tall and sinewy, I was shorter and bulkier. He was tennis and track, I was wrestling and lifting. I was the kid of an ironworker and insecure as hell, he came from money and had an easy manner that was amazingly disarming. This meant that Mike got what he wanted more often than not. I was a scared kid, and Mike was my hero, for about a week. Being his roommate had advantages; instant popularity and a free pass to every cool party. The disadvantage was that I saw Mike without his self-assured mask on. At first it was very disturbing, seeing the real Mike, but then I realized that he mastered something early we all learn later in life. He was just as scared and insecure as I was, the difference was that he could wrap it up and tuck it away whenever he wanted to. We became friends partly because he took me under his wing and partly because I knew the real Mike, a sort of secret pact between us. He dated the hottest girls, and by default, I dated their hot friends. I found out the first semester that Mike’s easy approach to things extended way past school and sports. Sex with him was a natural extension of our friendship, an addendum to our secret pact, just another thing we did for each other.
After graduation, Mike started work as an anthropologist. I got married and settled down, but Mike traveled the world. I don’t know when it started, exactly, but it became a tradition that he’d come home to the states in September. He’d catch up with his friends, then we’d go fishing together in the mountains for a week. Once a year, we reconnected, figuratively, and literally. Now well into middle age, Mike hadn’t changed much physically. He was still sinewy, although his chest had grown furrier over the years. Our days were spent fishing and cooking. Mike would regale me with stories from his adventures over the past year. Nights we’d curl up in the tent and talk about the old days, eventually making our way into each other’s arms and reinforcing the bond between us.
This year, he’d been distracted. Usually he’d spend a night or two at the house winding down from wherever he’d come from, enjoying the boring routine of suburban life with us. Come Saturday morning, we’d pack the pickup and head out, Mike providing the running narrative of stories and adventures that passed the time better than any radio station. But this time he’d sat quietly the whole way, lost in his own thoughts. The fishing had been good, but again, very quiet. I didn’t mind, just being out in the woods and relaxing was enough. He’d been more normal at dinner, describing his weeks in a remote Andean village. I loved listening to his stories, it was a vicarious adventure for me. He talked as I finished the dishes and as the fire died down and the night closed in. I took a seat across the fire from him. Even after all these years, I still waited for him to make the first move.
“Paul” he said, not looking up from the embers, “I don’t know that we can be together tonight” He poked at the fire and it leapt up, showing an angry scowl on his face. “It’s not us” he said at last. The thing is, when you’ve been friends for as long as we have, you speak in shorthand. I knew he meant that whatever was bothering him wasn’t related to our friendship. I knew that before he said it, but this was part of his process. He poked the fire again, stirring the embers back to a small flame. “Something happened to me in the Andes” he said, the words starting to spill out of him: “The tribe I was studying, one of the taboos, I thought it was a typical cultural taboo, but…”
“Mike” I said, getting up to sit beside him, “It’s ok” I said, putting my arm over his shoulders. This was my role, the sidekick role vanished, the protector emerged. Mike could let go now. “Paul it wasn’t a cultural taboo” he said, leaning into me. I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but he’d get around to it in time. “It was physiological” he was saying, “I should have suspected something was different, so isolated, so biologically different.” He looked at my face in the flicker of the firelight, “I’m not making sense” he said, shaking his head. This was bad, even for Mike.
“There were so many unique things about this culture, that this was just another feature. I didn’t give it importance, I was an observer. But then I found out something Paul, something I should have thought of.” He pulled away from me, a first for him. He kicked a stick into the fire and scowled again, hunching over his knees. “I figured it out too late. It’s not just a cultural thing, it’s a by-product of their local diet, a particular combination of unique plants that grow on the mountaintop. I wasn’t looking for it. I lived with them Paul, I lived with them for eight months.” I took my cue and put my arm around him again, but he pushed me off. “No Paul, I can’t” he said apologetically, but there was anger. “Mike” I started, “Whatever you caught, it doesn’t affect our friendship. I understand.”
“No you don’t” he said, throwing his poking stick in the fire, “My whole life Paul, everything…” “So use protection” I said, regretting it the moment it left my mouth. I sounded like an overeager slut. Mike laughed. “It’s not communicable.” I scratched my head. “So what’s the problem?” I asked. Mike shook his head, “It’s a chemical thing. It changes you, physiologically. It’s linked to hormones, that I know. Just being here, with you, tonight, its doing a number on me.” My head was spinning. My best friend was suffering, his whole life had changed and I hadn’t noticed until now, and I had no clue what I could do for him. I looked up at him, “Let’s go home” I said slowly, “I don’t completely understand this, but I’m not going to hurt you. Let’s pack up first light and head back…” “No” he said firmly, “It doesn’t help. I don’t even know how to explain Paul.” “Try” I said, just as firmly. If this was the end of our friendship, I had a right to understand. He kicked dirt around with his heel, then gathered himself up. “What I understand so far is this: There’s a chemical in the local plants that everyone consumes, but it reacts differently in the presence of hormones, in a man, it creates one marker, in the woman another. Everything’s cool until the male marker and female marker interact. The male marker changes the female marker and they become compatible. Husbands and wives go on their merry way, nothing out of the ordinary. Now if a wife decides to go down to the valley and have a little fun with a local out of her village, her body rejects the intruder, as it were. Only the man that marked her can ever have her again, and a man can’t take another man’s wife, just can’t be done, physically.”
“How does he take a wife then?” I asked, fascinated despite myself. “That’s where the problem lies” he said, kicking the dirt again, “When a man’s chemical marker encounters a ‘neutral’ marker, or no marker, he undergoes a physiological change. The shaman called it the marriage bonding. It happens only once, when the man first takes his wife.”
The implications of this sunk in slowly. In the silence that followed, I stared at the embers a long time. “So” I said, trying not to sound stupid, “If a guy from the village goes down to the valley, what happens?” Mike nodded, “That’s exactly the scenario I gave the shaman. She responded that every night would be a wedding night. Apparently the wedding night isn’t fun for the bride.” I sat quietly for another moment, then decided to ask the question that had been hanging in the air. “And if the man takes another man?” Mike looked dolefully at me, “I have no idea. The shaman said that if such things were done, they weren’t reported, certainly not to her.”
“So how does just being with me cause problems?” I asked, not really wanting to know the answer. Mike shook his head, “Remember, this whole thing is about propagation. When a man with the marker encounters a woman that arouses him and she doesn’t have the marker, well, it’s like a fire inside.” I started to get the picture. I looked at my friend, miserable and dejected, as I had never seen him before. “So you can’t allow yourself to be attracted to any woman” I said, “or man” I added. “I don’t know what will happen, that’s the worst of it.” He said quietly.
I took his hand and stood up. “Let’s find out” I said, and pulled him up. I put my arms around him, bear hug style. A lot of guys would have kissed right then, but part of this embrace was to let him know that I was with him, no matter how bad it got. It was about friendship only. He needed to know that this wasn’t just an erotic thrill, it was a buddy helping a buddy. “Whatever happens” I said, then kissed him. I felt him relax in my arms and return the kiss, long as slow, as if coming up for air after a lifetime under water.
We crawled into the tent and shed our clothes quickly. Mike was nearly panting as he pulled off his boots. Considering the shape he was in, it wasn’t the exertion; it must be the fire he’d described. I couldn’t make out his face in the darkness, but I could feel his body. Every muscle was taunt and he was sweating profusely despite the chill of the night. I pulled him to me, and he responded ferociously, his hunger now evident in every fiber of his being. We’d had some wild sessions, particularly as we honed our skills for the women we encountered, but those paled in comparison now. His hands groped me, gently, but urgently, his mouth roamed my body, always returning to my lips to devour. There was no question who was in charge tonight, and I gave in to him. I reached down to feel his body, and he was the same old Mike I’d always known and loved, right down to the rock hard eight-incher that now demanded satisfaction. I started to make my way down, and he countered with a guttural “no” and climbed on top of me. Chest to chest I could feel his ragged breathing, feel his heat. He stopped suddenly, “Paul, I can’t” he said, his voice gruff and raspy, as if he were struggling to keep control. I didn’t say a word, but instead opened my legs slightly and positioned myself under him. He let out a growl and entered me.
Mike was always a bit of a rough top man. The first time he took me was the only time he’d been exceptionally gentle from start to finish. In fairness, I was pretty aggressive when it was my turn on top. Payback’s a bitch sometimes. He was the only guy I played with, and our sessions were a full year apart, so he was usually gentle to start. This time it was a different Mike. His raw need was intoxicating, and I wanted him badly. I wanted to guide him in, but didn’t get the chance. The head of his straining cock pushed hard at my perineum, then slid down to the mark. I consciously relaxed, wanting him inside, wanting to satisfy the lusting animal he had become. The first thrust sent a searing pain through me. It felt as if he’d put a hot iron in me, and he was driving to the hilt without pausing. I gasped and bit my lip to keep from screaming. I couldn’t let him know how much it hurt. I knew it would feel better in a minute. He withdrew enough to reposition, then back in. I pulled my cheeks apart to ease the strain on my aching sphincter, and this aroused him even more. His thrusts were curling me up, driving my shoulders into the ground. I countered his force, providing a firm platform for his drilling. My movements met his, muscle to muscle, raw power at play. Sweat drenched both of us, and our hands slipped over each other crazily. He was pounding me so hard my balls were aching from the abuse, but I took it quietly. I wanted desperately to change positions, but he would not be deterred in his mission. I grabbed my ankles and used my abs to keep the angle constant, meeting his needs.
I felt him stiffen a bit and pick up the pace and I knew it was time. I was actually relieved that he’d be done soon; the session was fantastic, but I wanted gentle Mike back for a while to give my ass a rest. I clamped down on him, knowing his tells as he approached orgasm, another happy result of a long friendship. He let out a deep guttural sound and I felt him explode deep inside me. If this was the result of those Andean chemicals, get me some! His rod pulsed repeatedly, I felt the surge through my abused sphincter, surge after surge. It had been a while for Mike, and I felt happy that I could do this for him. He collapsed on my chest, panting. I ran my hands over his back, his head. He looked up and kissed me.
“You OK?” I asked. He nodded, grunting a little, still unable to catch his breath. My legs were sore from being in the same position, and I started to lower them to stretch out. That’s when I felt it.
Mike and I rarely used condoms. Part of the routine of his travels were regular tests and inoculations. I never asked who he’d slept with, he never offered, but he had to undergo regular and intensive testing every time he returned. If he brought a condom, it meant that the test results weren’t back yet. That said, I was somewhat used to him depositing a load and easing out as he softened up. This time he didn’t. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, just an odd one. As I lowered my leg, instead of feeling him gently ease out of me, I felt a tug on my ass. Mike felt the same thing and changed position, this time the tug was more pronounced. We looked at each other and I fought off a moment of panic.
“Are you okay?” he asked, gently rising to his elbows, careful to keep his hips still. “I think so” I said. He moaned a little. “you sure you’re OK?” he asked again. Whatever was going on, felt good to him at least. I clenched my ass a little and the panic welled up again. Mike’s root was as hard as a rock and pulsing gently with each heartbeat. He moaned again. “Mike” I said, raising myself up on my elbows, “I think it’s growing.” “I think so too” he said, and he pulled back a little, moving to his back and extending his legs at my sides. Now I felt it full on, his cock was filling me up, physically. The sensation was a mixture of pleasure with a hint of soreness as his cock grew. I wiggled a little to get comfortable and felt a heaviness inside, pushing hard against my belly. I decided that it was a good time to bear down and get him the hell out of me right now.
The pain was like a wave crashing on me. I think I yelled, but I don’t know. I drew up my legs instinctively which put even more pressure on the swelling inside, causing me even more pain. I could hear Mike saying something, but it was all moot. I wanted him out of me now, I pulled despite the pain, but it only increased and Mike added his howls of pain to the night. I felt him grab my legs and pull them down, sliding under me and actually driving the base of his cock to the very entrance of my ass. The move made the pain subside considerably, but the feeling of being inflated continued. It was uncomfortable and scary.
Mike sat up and gently ran his hands down his crotch and to the base of his cock. “Paul I’m so sorry” he said, “I’m so sorry” I eased my legs over his and felt immediate relief, the pressure on my ass easing to tolerable. “Mike” I gasped, “it’s fucking huge man” I managed. There was no describing the feeling. I could feel every heartbeat through his shaft into the massive thing now inside me. “Are you OK?” Mike asked again. I was gasping a little, “Stop asking me that” I snapped, “I’ve got a fucking basketball in my ass, what do you think?” To make matters worse, the growing cock was over stimulating my prostate and my own cock was leaking.
“How big’s it going to get” I asked, clenching my teeth. The feeling of being filled up was overwhelming. Every movement Mike made echoed inside me. “I don’t know” he said, “I told you I didn’t know what would happen” He’d caught his breath now, but he could feel what was happening as much as I was. “I’m a little light-headed” he said, laying back a little. The movement sent another wave of pain through me and I grunted. I felt a part of Mike now, an extension of him. Even his breathing I could feel from the inside out. I couldn’t venture a guess as to how big his member now was, but a quick pat down my abdomen told me that it was pretty damned huge. I lay back and tried my hardest not to panic. I figured that eventually it would stop swelling since Mike had a finite amount of blood to feed it. My major concern was my internal organs. Unlike a woman, there wasn’t a whole lot of room in there to expand. Moving, in any direction, hurt like hell, like I was being punched from the inside out. Fortunately for me, the base of his cock was only marginally thicker than normal, so my ass wasn’t in jeopardy. Then a very unpleasant thought occurred to me.
“Mike” I said softly, “What if it doesn’t get smaller?” Mike sighed. “It’s got to, or else how the hell would they survive? Are you…” “Don’t ask” I interrupted. I felt around my ass, probing gently inwards. “What are you doing?” asked Mike. I’d almost forgotten that it belonged to him. “Just trying to feel it” I replied, not really sure what the hell I was saying. My cock was pounding out a ton of pre-cum, so it was easy to lube a finger and probe. I felt along Mike’s member as it entered me, wincing in pain as I slid my finger past the ring. His cock felt the same, until the furthest edge of my reach, where I felt it flaring out markedly. I withdrew my finger. Mike sighed again. “I’m so sorry” he said. I sat up a little, actually around my own distended belly. For a freakish moment I felt the way a pregnant woman must feel. “Mike” I said, “I told you, whatever happens. It’s not your fault”
Of all the incongruous things he could have done, chuckling wasn’t on my list. “I’m sorry” he said again, “It just feels so damned good” and he moaned a little. I started laughing, but caught myself as the contraction of my stomach cause me a sharp crack of pain. Wow, this thing was huge. I felt my belly again, and realized that the swelling sensation had stopped, or at least I wasn’t feeling it as much anymore. “Mike, you OK over there?” I said. He was laying down, legs splayed to either side of me, my ass on his hips. “Yeah” he said, “I’m feeling stoned” “That’s because all your blood’s in your cock man,” I put my hand on his calf, “You’re as cold as ice. Don’t pass out on me man” The idea of being attached this way to an unconscious Mike scared me more than anything. “MIKE!” I shouted. He jerked, and I felt him move inside me. It wasn’t painful this time, more like a wave. My cock shot off unexpectedly, landing cum all over Mike’s chest. “mmmm” he managed, “see that it’s good for you too.” “No it’s not” I said, “That was involuntary” although I had to admit, it did feel great. He was coming around now. “Paul” he said, “I gotta move man” “Oh shit” I replied, “Let’s do it together, OK? To my right” I said, and started to roll. Mike, in his somewhat diminished capacity, went the other way. It felt as though I were being disemboweled through my rectum and I quickly rotated the other way. What had been pain turned to instant pleasure and I felt my cock reload. On my side now, Mike’s enormous cock settled more comfortably inside me. I experienced a wave of absolute bliss as my cock shot off round after round. Mike moaned, “Oh man, I can feel you” was all he said, and in a moment I felt him, impossibly, unload into me.
I felt my orgasm subside, but then the feeling of pleasure returned. It was like riding a roller coaster, the climb, the edge, then whoosh, down again. Each time drained strength from me, and each time, I felt Mike joining me in the wonderful ecstasy of the plunge. I lost track of the time, languishing in a post and pre orgasmic stupor. I must have drifted off to sleep because the next thing I knew, Mike was calling my name, loudly: “PAUL!” he shouted, bringing me around just as my cock oozed out another weak load. “Paul, are you with me man?” he implored. “Uh huh” I managed, trying to focus. “Listen to me Paul” he was saying, “Listen to me” I tried to listen, but another orgasm was starting it’s climb. Click click click click… “PAUL!” my eyes shot open and it took me a moment to get oriented. I could see Mike now, sprawled on his right side with his left leg draped over me. My right leg draped over him. My brain processed the fact that I could actually see him in pre-dawn light, which meant we’d been locked together and ejaculating the better part of seven hours. I looked down at my distended and engorged belly, flopping onto the ground in front of me and gasped. “Holy shit” I said, looking down at myself. “I thought I lost you there” said Mike, relief spreading across his face, “You scared me. How do you feel?” I gave him a fulminating stare. He rolled his eyes, “No, I mean do you feel different? I’ve been feeling like it’s going down for a couple of hours now, little by little.”
I contracted my abs and felt different somehow. The fullness was still there, but it wasn’t the hard feeling from before, as if I were contracting against a full bladder. Despite the circumstances, I willed my ass to relax and pushed gently. I felt a squirt of fluid shoot past Mike’s impalement and the pressure eased. “Sorry” I said, a little embarrassed at what I was doing. Mike chuckled, “You’re washing the sleeping bags” he said. His laughter jiggled his cock and I felt it again, but it was definitely smaller, well, relative to last night. I relaxed again and squeezed gently, rewarded with another ease in pressure. “Um, Mike?” he was chuckling to himself at the other end of the tent, “Yeah” he said. “Is that cum?” I asked meekly. “I ain’t gonna touch it if it isn’t” he replied, but he reached down and I felt him exploring the area. He sniffed his hand, then gave it a taste. “Yep” he said. I squeezed again, and another jet of Mike’s juice shot out.
I stopped and waited a while to be sure that his dick wouldn’t re-expand to fill the space. After a few minutes, when we were both sure that this wasn’t happening, Mike suggested we roll over one more time, this time with me on the bottom. The move brought us to the edge of the tent, but it was amazingly more comfortable for both of us. My side was sore and numb in places, and I knew Mike must feel the same. “I’m going to try to pull out” he said. “Hell no!” I yelled, still feeling the large mass of his cock inside me. Mike gently eased up and I felt his shaft slowly passing out of me. Under normal circumstances, he would have flopped out nearly instantly, but these weren’t normal circumstances. The slow extraction stopped when I felt a tug at the inner ring of my ass. “Ouch” I said, but he’d already backed off and the tug eased. Out of morbid curiosity, I reached back to feel Mike. The shaft was still firmly planted, but a good ten inches was now out of me. It felt flaccid, but still somewhat rigid. Mike hissed at my touch. “It’s a little sensitive” he said through clenched teeth. “I guess” I said, letting him go. The elongated member gave us a bit of mobility and we adjusted ourselves accordingly. We moved to our sides again, and Mike pulled a little to withdraw another two or three inches.
“I’ve been thinking” he said, “This does have a physiological purpose. I can see how the engorgement would separate the pelvic bone in preparation of childbearing, particularly if you copulate young.” I stared down at him. “You do realize that you still have your dick in my ass, right?” I asked him sarcastically, “How about figuring out how to get the rest of it out Professor?” Mike chuckled. “I’ve been thinking about that too. If the purpose of the engorgement it to prepare the pelvis for childbirth, it’s possible that the last stage of the process is, um…” he trailed off and I began to see where he was going. “No fucking way” I said. “Expand the cervix” he said simply. “In a woman, the engorgement would have penetrated the cervix and invaded the womb itself. That explains the way it grew and now the way it’s shrinking.” “Dude” I said, “In case you didn’t learn this in school, I don’t have a cervix or a uterus.” “And that’s why it’s emerging this way. If you had a cervix, the head would be firmly implanted beyond it, but there’s nothing to keep the head in place.”
The demystification of our circumstance wasn’t a comfort, nor was thinking that I had to actually push out a head-sized cockhead if I were ever to leave this tent. He tugged a little more and another two inches eased out. “Then again, it may just shrink down and slip right out” he said, distractedly playing with the massive shaft that bound us. “You want to play jump rope with that thing?” I asked, watching him. “I hope to hell it shrinks length wise too” he answered, “Or else I’m gonna be able to pee in my sock.” It may seem odd to be so glib, but in the back of my mind all I could think of was to avoid the obvious sexuality of the situation. If he should get aroused again…
The sun finally broke over the mountain and the tent started to heat up. Although it was late September, it was going to be a hot day. Mike had extracted about 16 inches of cock, but the thickest part remained. We both knew it was time to take action. Mike eased back until I felt the now familiar tug inside. I pulled up my legs, and with a nod, began to push as Mike winced in pain and pulled. The first try left us both gasping in pain, and to my horror, the Mike’s exposed cock was growing more rigid. This lent an urgency to the situation, so I pushed again, this time Mike cried out in pain, but I kept pushing. I could feel my ring opening, searing hot pain focusing my attention. I ran out of air and stopped, and Mike’s angry plug surged back into me. My own cock sprang to life with this new stimulus, but I was determined. Mike had a look of fear on his face as I took a deep breath and went for it again. He clenched his eyes closed and I felt him pull. Seconds passed like hours, pain on pain as my ass expanded to expel Mike’s monstrous member. This time when I ran out of breath, the engorged section remained in place, held there by Mike. I pushed again, feeling inch after inch of massive cock sliding out of me. I couldn’t bear to look down, only gasp and push. On the fourth push, I felt Mike surging out of me rapidly. Mike reeled back as the head audibly popped out of me, followed by a gush of fluid. My hole felt on fire, and I could only lay back and gasp for air.
“Holy shit” said Mike, bringing me back to the moment. He was sitting across from me, staring down between his legs. His cock reached nearly to his calf, the lower eight or so inches swollen to the thickness of my arm. We watched it gradually deflate to normal girth as if it were a foreign object that belonged to neither of us. My hole felt stretched beyond repair, but it was gradually contracting. I felt oddly empty, as if I were missing a part of me, and I leaned across the tent and gave Mike a long, hard kiss. “So what happens when we do it again?” I asked, only about half kidding…