Description The quaint health food shop sells supplements that are remarkably effective—if used as directed.
|Updated||21 Apr 2017|
Across the street from the gas station that I have been going to for years, on Sunset Blvd, two doors down from the convenience store, is an odd little vitamin store. It almost looks like it has gone out of business. The sign above the display window is faded. The posters in the window are so sun bleached they’re tinted blue. The products advertised are thirty years out of date—things like wheat germ, yeast pills, and soy protein. Even the name of the store seems antiquated—”Vitality Health Foods”. How many years has it been since we called them health food stores? Every time I saw the place I was tempted to go in, but I never felt like I had the time. Too much bother to make a U-turn on Sunset and find a parking place nearby. But last week I finally did go in, and, boy, am I glad I did.
It looked like it was closed from outside, the lights inside were so dim, but I twisted the doorknob and pushed. The door stuck, but it opened. A shop bell tinkled. Behind a counter to the side of the entry stood a guy I recognized from the gym. He was younger than me, could have been in college. Only about 5’ 10”, but pretty beefy—the kind of honest beef you know comes from heavy lifting, basic good-eating, and clean living. He wore black bone frame glasses that made him look studious in an old-fashioned way.
When I walked in he said, hi. He remembered seeing me and we introduced ourselves. I was honored a guy like me even registered on the radar screen of a guy like him, and frankly a little aroused by it. The store looked so boring inside that I would have walked right back out if a friendly hunk like him hadn’t greeted me. I was eager to continue the conversation with him—Kevin was his name—because it gave me an excuse to look into his pale blue eyes and make an occasional survey of all the delights below his neck that filled out the polo shirt and sweat pants. I asked him how long he’d been working there, and where he went to school. I don’t even remember the answers, because I wasn’t listening. I was thinking about what he’d look like without his shirt. “What kind of supplements do you sell here, Kevin?” I asked.
“Our specialty is herbal supplements.”
“Things like Ma Huang and Yohimbe?”
“No, more exotic herbs than that.”
“You wouldn’t even recognize the names,” he told me.
“If no one has heard of these herbs before, how do people know what to buy?”
“I can help you with that,” he said. “What are your goals?”
I hadn’t even considered buying any of them, but when he put it like that I felt obligated to. “I’ve always had trouble losing weight,” I said. Like a lot of guys who went to the gym all the time, I had always had a waist about five inches bigger than optimum. “I’ve got several herbs for that.” Kevin turned to the shelf behind the counter and searched among the tiny glass bottles with hand-printed labels. He pulled out three and put them on the counter. “This one suppresses your appetite. This one speeds up your metabolism, but this other one is the best. I don’t know how it works, but most people can lose about ten pounds over night with it.”
Kevin’s sales pitch had me completely turned off. I’d tried thousands of these things in the last twenty years and every one of them had been a bust. I should have pushed them away and walked right out, but I didn’t want to leave him so soon.
“How much are they?” I asked.
“The first two are ten bucks a piece. The third one is $75.”
Seventy-five dollars! That was outrageous! They had plainly priced it high to get all their profits out of that first bottle people bought, because no one would ever buy two. And plenty of suckers would take the high price to mean the product must be really good.
“I’ll take the third one,” I said.
What, was I crazy? Obviously richer than I was smart! But somehow buying that little bottle of tiny herb pills from this studious looking stud made me feel affiliated with him. “You should start out slow with these, just to make sure you don’t have an adverse reaction to them. If you do, we’ll refund your money, of course, but don’t take more than one the first night. If you lose a couple pounds by morning, take two or three the next night. That should be enough to make you drop five pounds easy. Whatever you do, don’t take more than five at a time. If you have any questions, just call us.”
I made a mental note of all his instructions, for what they were worth. I really didn’t expect to get anything out of those things. Except maybe a return visit with him when I got my refund, if I had enough nerve to ask for one.
My skepticism led me to disregard his instructions. Instead of taking one, I took ten. Never mind the words about not exceeding five. It wasn’t going to work anyway, and if I was going to fail, I was going to fail big.
As I lay in bed that night, just after turning the lights out, I began to feel a little restless. My skin began to itch and my face felt flushed. Without even thinking about anything sexual, my dick began to get hard. I decided to roll with the punches and reached into my shorts. Up till then I had always been a disappointment to my dates in the dick department, but suddenly I was double my usual size and still filling out. By the time I was fully hard, I had enough dick flesh to occupy three hands. I got out of bed and turned on the lights. I could see in the dresser mirror that I now had an easy ten inches. I was thick as a bat, and my nuts were the size of a couple baseballs. The sight of it only made me more excited. I sat down on the edge of the bed and twisted my fists around it and watched it squirm and strain in the mirror. I dropped some spit on the silver-dollar-sized head of it and worked that down a few inches of its length. With my newfound endowment bobbing ahead of me I walked to the bathroom to get some hand lotion to masturbate with. Standing sideways in the bathroom mirror I held my dick straight out and marveled at the sight of such a thing attached to my groin. Hell, even if these herbs did nothing else, growing a foot long prick made them worth the expense! I squeezed out a generous amount of lotion and slathered it down my cock, amazed at how much better even masturbating felt with so much more dick flesh to feel it with. I could hardly wait for someone to share it with, to see the delight in someone’s eyes when they saw it. As I worked both my hands up and down it, I imagined the tremendous feeling of power I would have fucking someone with it, watching them writhe with mixed pleasure and pain. For hours I leaned on the bathroom counter, pulling and stroking it as I watched it in the mirror. Eventually I reached the limit of my patience and allowed myself to cum. The jism shot out of it like rifle blasts, splattering on the ceiling. When I woke up the next morning I felt oddly vacate, empty. I touched my waist. It was smaller. In fact, I could feel stomach muscles under my skin! The mirror and the bathroom scale confirmed it. I was thin. I weighed 170 pounds, and looked like an underwear model! The only casualty was my dick. It was back to its normal size.
When the doors to the health food store opened, I was there. “Man you look great! You’re swimming in those pants! You must have taken more than one of those things last night!” “Maybe one or two more,” I said.
“Well, whatever you did, it sure seems to have worked. You have any side effects?” he asked.
“No,” I said. Should I have told him about the erection? Did he want to know? Or was that too personal? He was friendly with me, but still slightly formal. Yesterday I knew I didn’t have a chance with him. Today was different. He might prefer someone beefy like himself, but maybe he liked leaner guys like me who were willing to do whatever it took to please him.
“What can I get for you today?” Kevin asked. “What do you have?”
“I’ve got some potent anabolics, if you’re interested. I’ve tried one or two of them myself, so I can vouch for their effectiveness. I don’t use them too often, though. I like to get strong the old fashioned way.” Kevin put five small bottles on the counter. I lost myself for a minute watching his biceps tense and roll as he turned and reached for them. Maybe Kevin thought I was too thin. Maybe if I put on a few pounds of muscle he would find me more attractive.
“This one is the strongest,” Kevin said. “Some guys put on forty pounds with just one bottle. The returns diminish, though. After a while your body doesn’t respond to it any more. You don’t lose your size, but you don’t get any bigger.”
“How much is it?”
“Two hundred dollars.”
“Two hundred dollars!”
“There’s a money back guarantee. We guarantee you’ll put on at least twenty pounds.”
“Yeah, but $200!” I said.
“The last bottle worked, didn’t it?”
My eyes riveted on his breastbone and the deep depression between his pecs that was obvious even through his loose T-shirt. The clean fresh smell of his body and his strong, slightly hairy arms and well-manicured nails made my head spin. I wanted so badly to be in his arms and to have liberty to explore his body with my hands and mouth. I put my credit card on the counter.
There were twenty-five tiny pills in the bottle under a big wad of cotton. The directions said to take two a day with a meal that was heavy in protein. I took two with a protein shake at the gym. Two more with another one when I got home, two with lunch, two with dinner, two with a protein bar at eight, and four more with another shake as I settled down for the night. All through the day I felt a little tight, like I had a great pump that just kept getting larger. I had a heightened sense of my muscles as I went about the day. Occasionally I cupped my pec or my shoulder or my arm with my hand, just to feel how firm and full it felt. When I undressed for bed I noticed how much better muscle definition I had just since the morning. I could see muscles then, but now they just stuck out more, and the veins and striations were completely visible. I was getting hard looking at myself. Then I felt my heart begin to race and saw my face flushing. I got a little scared, which took the spring out of my dick. I lay down on the bed and held my forehead. I felt faint. My head spun. I began to feel the sheets on the unmade bed sliding along my back, thighs and arms. I spread my arms out and gripped the bed. The sensation continued, but I wasn’t sliding off. I was growing. I cupped my pec again. My hand couldn’t cover half of it. As I did, my arms twitched and bulged. My biceps was so big it looked like it would burst. I let my hand drop along my chest to my stomach and felt the deep ridges between my abs. My thighs were pushing against each other and spread apart. My cock and balls were being pushed up, and I was getting hard again. I squeezed myself and gave it a couple of strokes.
In the mirror I could see how big I had grown. I was much larger than Kevin was. I was bigger than anyone I had ever seen in person. I was as big as any pictures I had seen of professional bodybuilders. I thrummed my dick with my hand. It was hard and full mast. It didn’t seem any larger, but as I examined it between muscle poses, it seemed like it was still growing. Hell, even if I had had NO dick I would have had to get out and show this body off! Some of the sweats I had when I was fat still fit, even if the way they laid on me was dramatically different than two days ago. I got dressed and went to the Spike. I knew I could probably have had any guy there. I just hoped the pickings were good. Lurking in the shadows behind the pool table I saw a tall, dark, muscular man. He wasn’t as big as I was now, but what he lacked in size he made up for in swarthiness. He had one of those lantern jaws, and it was covered with a dense goatee. His nose was broad and strong, and his eyebrows were about a half-inch thick. He had black hair, cut short on the sides, with a thick, curly shock on top. His dark eyes opened wide when he saw me walk in, but the rest of his face betrayed no emotion. His attempt to remain stoic excited me. I smiled broadly in his direction. He nodded and took a drink from his beer bottle. I stood on the other side of the pool table a few minutes and watched the players. I glanced around the room. I watched other men walk between the bar and the patio. With my hands in my sweat pants pockets I adjusted my hard-on. It must have been about a five inches longer than before, almost nine inches. Pointed straight up and pinned down by the elastic in my pants it wasn’t too obscene. It kept my dark-haired friend’s attention, though. When I wasn’t looking straight at him, I could see him in the mirrors watching my crotch. When the pool game finished I walked over to introduce myself. He had been leaning against a small shelf along the wall. He stood up straight when I got near. Up close I realized he was just a couple inches shorter than I was. We shook beefy hands. His eyes wandered up and down my chest as I looked straight into his eyes. I set the beer bottle he had in his hand on the shelf behind him. I drew him against me with my other hand and kissed him. His mouth opened and our rough tongues rubbed against each other. I took the hand he’d been holding his beer with and stuck it down the front of my pants. He wrapped it around my dick, not much thinner now than the bottle I had taken away from him, and squeezed. I forced my tongue deeper into his mouth and sucked on his face. I felt his hard dick through his jeans pointing out to his hip. I pulled along the sides of it with my fingers as we kissed. Our hard pecs were jammed up against each other’s. I slide my forefinger down the crack of his ass. As I pulled up tight along the seam of his jeans, his mouth went slack with pleasure, breaking our kiss.
Through the mirrors I could see about half the bar staring at us. The other half was trying not to.
“What’s your name?” I asked him, with a sly grin, considering the advanced state of our physical intimacy in relation to the remedial phase of our social intimacy.
“Jake. What’s yours?”
“Gordon,” I said. “Let’s get out of here. Can we go to your place?”
He nodded. Just inside the door of his apartment I pulled my sweatshirt over my head to expose what he had only been able to imagine before. I let it fall at my feet. Even with my muscles relaxed, my arms couldn’t fall straight to my sides. My lats pushed my biceps out to the sides, my elbows out, my forearms dangling in. My abs were a stack of thickly mortared bricks that supported a chest as broad as a Buick. The top half of my dick was poking out over the top of my sweat pants. It must have been over a foot long by then! Jake gasped. I pulled at the elastic on the front of my sweats and let my dick drop away from my waist and point at him. He dropped to his knees and sucked it in his mouth. It was one of those incredible if-my-friends-could-see-me- now moments that happen once it a lifetime. There I was with a body so muscular most men would cream in their pants just dreaming about it, with a hot man’s lips wrapped around the beefy head of my foot long fuck pole. And all indications were that this dark, hairy stud was dying for me to fuck him clear into tomorrow
I grasped both sides of his head with my ham-sized hands and fucked his face. Only half of my dick fit inside without hitting the back of his mouth. After a couple strokes he lifted my hands from his face. Jake looked up at me and smiled wanly, as if to say, “leave this to me.” He hunkered down, tilted his chin up and pointed my dick down, drawing it deeply down his throat in a series of dry sucking sounds reminiscent of that saliva sucking tube at the dentist. With his lips wrapped tight around the base of my dick and my balls resting on his broad, bristly chin, I at last had satisfaction. He drew his lips a few more times long and slow along the length of my prick before my dick got too hard to point straight down anymore. When he let it slip from his mouth it jumped up to my stomach again, past my navel.
Jake stood. He pulled off his T-shirt over his head. He turned his back to me and removed his shoes. Then he slid his tight jeans slowly down over his round sinewy ass, down his thickly muscled hairy thighs and over his bulging calves, pausing at his ankles, bent over so I could look into his bunghole. Pre cum streamed out the tip of my dick. I grasped the base of my prick with my fist and gasped at the sight. He stepped out of his jeans, stood, and faced me. His chest was buried under a thicket of dense black hair. His own dick was about eight inches long, but thicker than mine was even now. He slipped up next to me. As our hard dicks squirmed next to each other, we locked lips again. He drubbed his thick thumbs down firmly on my nipples, making me salivate more as we kissed. I grabbed his thickly muscled ass cheeks with my hands and pulled them apart. I worked my fingers over them to his asshole and wiggled one of my wide index fingers inside. By now my dick was soaked with pre-cum. Jake was milking it from my prick to rub into my nipples. I felt hot and tingly and the tiny hairs were standing up all over my body. I had never been this sexually excited before in my life
“I need to fuck you, Jake,” I said in a low voice. “Now!”
Jake lowered himself to the floor and tugged on my wrist. I knelt at his feet, raised his ankles to my shoulders, and pointed my dick at his asshole. I had no patience to go slow! The foreplay was over! I buried my entire cock in his ass on the first stroke and ground my groin into Jake’s butt, barely noticing as Jake writhed. I pulled out halfway and pounded into him again, hard. I ground against his butt, then started driving into him fast, like a jackhammer. Jake grabbed his dick with both his hands and jerked it. As much as I wanted the fuck to last, I was way past being able to control my fucking or the feelings in my prick. In an instant I was over the brink and shooting load after load of cum up Jake’s ass. Jake pulled vigorously on his dick, trying to catch up. But when the spasms subsided I was still hard, and still horny! I grinned. I took Jake’s hands from his dick and wrapped my own thickly muscled, sweat-soaked hand around it. I pulled my entire dick out of Jake’s ass, then pushed all the way back in as I jacked his dick. Jake let his arms fall to his sides. I timed my dick strokes up his ass with my hand strokes down his dick. He dug his fingers into the carpet, closed his eyes, and moaned. He was hard as stone, and the ridge of his cock head was fully flared. This time I prolonged the pleasure. I stroked us both just enough to keep the tension high and let it build just a bit each time. When either one of us tensed too much, I stopped for a few seconds. Long past the point either one of us cared about cumming, I relaxed my control and let Jake shoot. Watching him fire thick gobs of cum all over his chest pulled me over the edge too. Bucking wildly I dumped another load up his ass.
When my convulsions stopped. I balanced my weight on one of my thickly muscled arms and brushed some of the sweat off my chest with the other. “That was incredible!” I said, breathlessly.
“I don’t ever want you to take that dick of yours out of my ass,” Jake said with a grin.
“Sorry, but I need to lay down on a real bed.” I backed out of him, put my arms under his knees and back and lifted him up. I laid him down on his unmade bed and collapsed next to him on my back. Jake lay on his side and propped his head up with his hand. “If I didn’t know better I’d say it was bigger than it was when we first undressed,” he said looking down at my cock, which was pointing up toward my chest, still hard. It was so stiff it didn’t actually touch my stomach; it throbbed about an inch above it. And it was bigger. It practically reached my breast bone. It almost scared me, until Jake slowly wrapped his fist around as much of the huge head as he could and twisted around it, using my own sweat and cum as a super lubricant for a post coital hand job, and making me gasp with ecstasy. I braced myself with my hands outstretched on the mattress and flopped my head from side to side. Jake sat up and put his other hand on the shaft, just below the head and slowly jacked up and down about an inch as he continued to twist his other hand around the head. My heart began to pound like a trip hammer. The muscles all over my body began to spasm. Jake slid both his hands down my shaft and sucked my dick head in his mouth. As soon as his lower hand reached my groin I exploded again. Jake sucked hard on my dick head and slowly vacuumed inch after inch of my cock into his mouth and down his throat as it pumped cum inside of him. He held it deep inside of him until it stopped its spasms. But when he slipped it out of his mouth, it was still rock hard. Jake was hard again too. His fat dick bobbed in my face as he straddled my hips, rose to his knees, positioned my dick head at his asshole, and worked it inside his ass. Cumming three times so quickly had finally taken some of the edge off my lust. As Jake eased my steely dick up his butt hole the pleasure was intense, but not as excruciating as the first time. I could relax enough to let him keep control. He used me like a dildo and I grinned at his strained expression as he worked the whole thing around inside his ass. He was so absorbed in feeling it fill him, he ignored me completely, except for that part of me he couldn’t ignore. When I reached for his dick, he pushed my hand away. Instead he let it bob untouched as he raised himself up and down with his thighs, slowly, frantically, slowly. He rubbed his pecs and his iron abs with his hands and arched his back. The tension in my dick was rising again. I wanted to pin his butt down and fuck him, but I held back from the occasional urge to thrust and savored the slow, thickening feeling in my cock and the mad humming of my dick flesh, like the best part of a great, long, blow job. I closed my eyes too, and rubbed my thick hands over my huge arms, around my cannonball shoulders, and down the great, bulging pecs. My forefingers found my thick teats. My eyes opened wide. My dick swelled. Jake gasped and his dick jerked. One, two, three dry heaves, then a gush of foamy, thick cum that splattered from the pillow above my head down to my stomach. I grabbed the iron-stiff cheeks of his ass with my hands and pumped into him, dumping long, hard blasts of dick juice high up inside of him. Our thick squirts went on and on, sometimes synchronized, sometimes in alternation, until my chest was drenched and his ass was dripping. Jake grabbed a spare pillow and wiped off my chest, but he stopped me from pulling out of him. Still in coitus he rolled us on our sides and wrapped his arms around my chest. His tight sphincter, like a cock ring, kept my dick engorged with blood while we feel asleep.
When I woke up the next morning, we were separated. Jake was still on his side, facing me, but I was on my back. I stretched my giant arms out in front of me. I flexed and felt my huge pecs. I rolled to my side to face Jake. Even in full morning light with his hair all mussed he was gorgeous, especially with thick morning stubble on his face and neck. My dick started to swell. I wondered how big it would be by now. Then something about it felt odd. I reached down to touch it and discovered why. It was back to its normal size! Once again the growth had been only temporary! I slid slowly to the floor and out to the hall to get my clothes before Jake woke up. If he saw me like this, how could I explain? Even if he liked me the way I was now, I couldn’t bear to see disappointment on his face when he saw my dick the way it really was
I had one leg of my sweats on and was balancing on it, trying to get my other leg in, when I heard Jake stir in the bedroom. “Gordon? Are you going, Gordon?”
“I got to get to work early!” I said from the hall. I pulled my sweats up.
“Come here and say goodbye!”
I stood just inside the bedroom door a second, looking at Jake, rising up from the covers, his sleep-relaxed muscles tensing and flexing as he pushed himself up and ran his fingers through his hair. I sat next to him on the edge of the bed. Jake put his hand on my triceps and squeezed as I flexed it for him. He twisted me to face him and drew my tongue into a deep kiss. His other hand slipped down my side to the outside of my thigh. It was on its way to my groin when I grabbed and held it. “I’m afraid I don’t have time.”
“Don’t you even want to shower or shave?” he asked.
“It’s easier if I do it at home,” I said.
I stood, and he got up. “Let me give you my phone number,” he said.
As I pulled my sweatshirt on, he wrote on a piece of scrap paper and handed it to me.
I was inside the door as soon as the health food store opened that morning. I was ready to lay into Kevin, but his utter astonishment at my transformation completely sucked the wind out of my sails. “Good Lord! You’re gargantuan! I’ve never seen anyone so big.” “You said the stuff worked,” I said nonchalantly, eager to get back to my complaints.
“How many of those things did you take? The whole bottle?”
“Of course not!”
“More than the two I told you to take!”
“More than two.”
“Take off your shirt,” Kevin said.
I hesitated. I wanted to yell at him for the damned transient side effects his pills had on my dick. But there was no way I was going to miss the chance to blow away this little closet case after all the Clark Kent attitude he’d thrown my way the last two times we’d seen each other. I gripped the bottom of my sweatshirt and pulled it over my head. “Holy shit! You’re even bigger than I thought! What do you weigh? Three hundred? More?”
I threw a double biceps shot at him, flexed my pecs, and scrunched down hard on my abs. “Your arms are huge!”
“Want to feel ‘em?” I asked.
It was his turn to hesitate. His face was flushed. His eyes were hugely dilated. His breathing was short and heavy. But he ignored my offer.
“So what can I get you today?” he asked. His impersonal approach deflated my graphic complaints, but didn’t derail my plan.
“What do you have to make other parts of me big?” I asked.
He looked me in the eye a second.
“I hear you,” he said, and he pulled a medium-sized bottle from the shelf under the counter. He unscrewed the cap and poured a few tablets out. They were so big I wasn’t sure I could swallow them. “This stuff is experimental—which is not to say it won’t work—but I can’t predict how well it will work. And it’s expensive.”
“Five hundred dollars for the bottle.” “You’re crazy!”
“It’s not like you haven’t had good results with the other things I’ve sold you,” he said.
“Good results! Yeah, except for the side effects!” I complained.
“What side effects? Last time you told me you didn’t have any side effects!”
“Well, I lied. I was embarrassed. The first pills made my dick swell like a balloon. The last ones made it even bigger! The problem is, both times it shrunk back to normal!”
“I tell you what. I’ll let you buy the bottle for $375. Or I’ll make you an even better deal. You take the whole bottle now for free. If it doesn’t work to your satisfaction you don’t owe me a thing. But if it works, you owe me the full $500.”
“Double my dick or my money back, eh?” I said.
I took the bottle and said, “You’re on!”
There were only ten pills in the bottle, but they were so big they filled half of it. The handprinted instructions said to take 1 to 2 pills once a day. I took two as soon as I got home. Nothing happened. I took two more in the afternoon, two more at dinner, and two more after dinner and the final two at bedtime. At six in the morning something hit me in the face when I rolled on my back. I brushed at my face with my hand and felt my hand hit my dick. That woke me up enough to realize I had a raging hard-on, and my dick was so long that it had hit me on the chin. The head was about as big as an orange. Squeezing it took the breath out of me. With my other hand I worked my way back down to the root. About half way down it got thicker. At its base, it took both my hands to get completely around it. My giant balls lay loose in my purse of a scrotum. I hefted one in each hand like cantaloupes. Pre-cum dribbled out of my dick on my mouth. I raised myself up and leaned on the headboard. I threw back the covers. In the closet door mirror beside the bed I could see myself. My broad, muscled chest and huge, round shoulders practically spanned the width of my king-size bed. Each of my arms was almost half as thick as my chest. With one hand around the base of my dick and the other just under the head, I put it in my distended mouth and sucked. I had always wondered what it was like to be able to suck your own dick. Let me tell you, the feeling of your own hot mouth and tender tongue on your own dick head is incredible! It makes sucking ten times as erotic. I was so excited that I was gushing saliva. I rubbed the excess down my dick with my hands. Without much effort, I worked my dick to the back of my mouth. The sensations my mouth was making on my dick were so intense I had no problem at all relaxing my gag reflex and pushing it a few inches down my throat. As my throat slipped over the head of it, I twisted both my hands at the root and came. It took about ten spasms and at least a minute for the cum to work its way up the length of my monster. Once it started coming out, it kept coming for at least another five. When it deflated it was still a foot and a half long and as thick as it had been when it was hard. I tried about a half dozen ways of packing it in my sweat pants, but all of them gave me a damn cartoonish looking bulge. Instead of packing it, I decided to stuff it down one of the leggings. Even that was not without peril. When I walked my other leg rubbed against it, making it swell a little. And it practically reached my knee.
Kevin was not behind the counter at the health food store. As I walked down an aisle looking for someone, I heard his voice from the storage room in the back. He was rearranging boxes. For once he was wearing something revealing. He was dressed in a tank, not tight all around, but tight in the right places. He wasn’t as big as I was, but he was very well shaped and damn solid. “How’d it go?” without looking directly at me.
“Well, it worked, but—” “But what?”
“You can have too much of a good thing,” I said.
He stood and faced me. His eyes tracked the bulge down the length of my thigh. I reached inside my sweats and hauled it up. It arced out from my groin about a half-foot before drooping down. “I know what you mean,” he said. “I tried those myself a while back.” Kevin pushed his sweat pants down to his ankles. When he stood he showed me a dick even bigger than mine. It dangled down below his knees, and it was getting longer and thicker with every heartbeat. Watching it made me get hard too. I stepped out of my pants and pulled my sweatshirt off. Kevin took off his tank. Chest hair covered both his pectoral muscles clear to his breastbone, but nothing else. Kevin’s dick went above his nose, but by standing a few inches apart we were able to fit each other’s dick heads in our mouths. Kevin had an easier time with my dick than I did with his. After sucking his own, mine probably seemed manageable. But with lots of enthusiasm, plenty of herbal lubricant, and some vigorous dick and chest rubs we both shot high over our heads. That morning pretty much sealed a relationship between Kevin and I. It’s not that we were so compatible. The only time Kevin wasn’t stoic was in the heat of sex. He was ten years into a four-year liberal arts degree, and about as ambitious as a sloth. The only entertainment he was interested was television, preferably a ball game. He thought the only men interested in literature and art were queers, and he didn’t even consider himself gay, even though he wasn’t interested in women. But we were the only ones we could have sex with. Although we excited plenty of guys, not many had the courage to do anything with us.