Bigger
- Thread starter GJackN
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going_bigger
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Any chance this story will come back? 
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another great one.. would love to see more of this story!
going_bigger
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MuscCanon
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love this story. cant wait for more
going_bigger
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Right???? Do you or anyone else know any similar stories worth reading?
I still hope this story might get another instalment. It was truly one of the best things I've read on the site.
going_bigger
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The residual pain from his “ball-buster” therapy tended to recede quickly, but even so, Owen was walking gingerly as we made our way inside our apartment building, taking a wide-legged stance as he climbed the stairs. As we reached my landing, he pushed me against my apartment door, trapping me in a prolonged kiss. “Thank you,” he growled in my ear, and as if reading the question on my mind, continued, “For convincing me to do this. I never would have had the courage to do it on my own, even if I wanted to. You’ve been so wonderful.”
“I mean, it has its perks,” I said, and pulled his waist closer to mine.
If either of us should’ve been offering thanks, it was me. For weeks, I felt as if I’d been moving through a whirlwind dream, one that I half-expected to crumble at any moment. Not only had I scored a quiet, handsome boyfriend, but one that was endowed like a donkey. As if that slice of life wasn’t sweet enough, we had then stumbled upon an experimental clinical trial that aimed to make him even more endowed—and was actually succeeding in doing so, adding several inches to his already enormous dick. Were it not that I had the privilege of a front row seat to the whole spectacle, I would have easily chalked it up to some sort of sex-crazed fever dream, the sort written about on adult internet forums. But there he stood before me: living, breathing, growing proof.
We traded another kiss, Owen promising he’d be back shortly for our dinner with my friends, Katherine and Aaron. While he darted upstairs to his apartment for a shower and change of clothes, I escaped inside to start dinner. Thirty minutes later, I heard my door open again and his familiar footsteps coming down the hall.
“They should be here any minute!” I called from the kitchen.
“About that,” Owen called back. “We may have a little problem.”
There was, I found as I walked into the living room, nothing little about the situation. Freshly shaven and showered, Owen looked every bit the quintessential boyfriend ready to impress my oldest friends, even if that meant he’d opted for a pinstriped shirt tucked into pleated Dockers. I gave him a quick once over, reminding myself to update his wardrobe—and quickly pinpointed the problem. Although his pants were a dark navy, they did nothing to conceal the fat bulge snaking down his left leg, a bulge made all the more prominent by the large lump of his balls thrusting it forward. Someone might have as well shoved a stick of salami down his pants. Here we go again, I thought. Of all the odd and surreal circumstances that accompanied Owen’s penis enlargement process, one of the most unpredictable factors was the impulsivity of his cock itself. We had learned early on that the endless tugging and prodding and stretching would sometimes leave his dick worn and limp with fatigue. In recent weeks, however, his horse-prick seemed increasingly galvanized by all the attention, rebounding with extra vigor as if to prove that it could not be best and would always rise to the occasion.
“You did take a cold shower, right?”
He looked up at me like a lost puppy. “What’re we going to do?”
“Normally, I’d say we should give the beast what it wants.” I sidled up to him, gripping the enormous log through his pants that was hot to the touch even through the starched fabric; I could feel it throbbing in time with this quickening, panicked pulse. “But we don’t have time for that obviously.”
“I’m serious. I can’t meet your friends like this. Maybe you should say I’m ill?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “Do you have any idea how stupidly head over heels I am for you? I wake up every day convinced that you’re something I dreamed up and astounded that you’re not. Every single thing I feel toward you only gets stronger every second I’m with, including and especially how proud I am of you and I can’t wait to show you off to my friends—every last inch of you.” As I spoke, I could see the resolve softening the worry lines in his face, the last of which vanished completely as I prodded his prodigious bulge. “Besides, the way I see it, this fantastic fuckstick of yours is only going to get harder to hide the bigger it gets, so we might as well begin to find a way to live with it, right?”
Owen chewed the inside of his cheek, considering my words. I could see practically see the tiny cogs and spokes of his brain turning. Finally, the corner of his mouth pulled up into a reluctant smirk.
“Fine, but I blame you. I was fine with just having ten inch dick until you came along.”
“You think they make a shirt that says that?”
Before he could answer, and right on cue, there were three sharp raps at my door. Owen’s hands instantly fell away from my waist and he stepped back, smoothing his hair and straightening his cufflinks in a last ditch effort to present the best package possible. And what a package it is, I thought.
Two familiar, beaming faces greeted me through the peephole of my door. The first belonged to a stunning blonde woman in cable-knit sweater and black leggings. Behind her, an unshaven redhead with a backwards-turned baseball cap was excitedly giving me a double thumbs up. Both of them pounced on the second the door was open, the three of us melting into a familiar and over due group hug that pulled me back in time. The last time we’d shared such an embrace was on the steps of a church in downtown Chicago. Katherine had been in a white wedding gown then, Aaron in a customary tuxedo, the three of us pretending not to see the limousine expectantly waiting for them to finish their tearful parting words with me. “We’ll get together again soon,” she’d said. “Soon as we get back from Fiji,” Aaron had promised. I had merely nodded, knowing even then that I shouldn’t hold them to it given that they were entering a different trajectory of adulthood than I was. That had been three years ago, nearly to the day, but here the three of us all were again, finally reunited.
“I figured it was B-Y-O-B,” Katherine said, brandishing a bottle of wine.
“She means Bring Your Own Boyfriend,” Aaron whispered. “So where’re you hiding him?”
Before I could reply, the two of them were pushing past me and sailing down the hall and toward the living room. I followed them tentatively, unsure of what would be awaiting me, but as I rejoined them it was to find Owen shaking each of their hands in turn, brandishing his brilliantly disarming grin that could persuade anyone to do just about anything. Katherine and Aaron, however, were stock still, their arms limply pumping up and down as Owen introduced himself with all the warmth and welcome of a church deacon. Stepping to Owen’s side, I saw the unmistakable flit of their eyes to his crotch and back again.
“N-Nice to meet you,” Katherine said. Aaron continued staring wordlessly.
Owen cleared his throat. “Pleasure’s all mine.”
“Hope you guys like homemade pizza!” I said, clapping my hands together suddenly. Startled back to the present, Aaron jerked his head upright and cleared his throat. “Why don’t we open that wine? Help me grab some glasses, babe?”
Tugging Owen by his elbow into the kitchen, I informed our guests to grab a seat at the table. “I’m embarrassing you with this,” he hissed the moment we were out of earshot, gesturing at his tenting erection that, if anything, had only gotten larger in the last few minutes. Doesn’t matter if he’s excited, scared, or contented, I thought. That thing will use any excuse to grow.
“I promise you that you’re not. Just go take a seat and try to enjoy yourself.”
Groaning, Owen grabbed a dishtowel and slung it over one arm like a maître d' in a feeble attempt at disguising his overstuffed crotch. I followed promptly with the pizza, catching the abrupt end of a whispered conversation between our guests as I joined them at the table.
“Hope you guys like arugula and goat cheese,” I said.
“Not meat-lovers?” Aaron said.
That earned him an elbow to the ribs from his wife, but thankfully for Owen’s sake, no further quips followed. Nevertheless, each of our first glasses of wine disappeared in record time and was hastily followed by a second. Soon enough however the awkward, anxious silence melted away as the alcohol took hold and we eased into polite relaxation, swapping college memories and catching upon on our respective goings-on. As the night wore, I would glance over the rim of my glass to find Owen’s blue eyes already trained upon me, checking on me checking on him. He and Katherine seemed to hit it off in particular, swapping jokes and laughing loudly, but a faint grimace of discomfort lingered at the corner of his mouth whenever he shifted in his seat. As surreptitiously as he could manage, his hand would fall into his lap to grab his napkin and shift his package to give himself momentary relief.
This was a historic erection for him it seemed, one that refused to depart or dissipate. It’s like his monster cock knows there’s an audience waiting, I thought amusedly. Reaching for another glass of wine, I thought back to the first time I had ever laid eyes on his humongous prick. It was like seeing a grandiose feat of nature: it stirred something in you, reminded you of your relative insignificance by comparison, and made you want to encounter it even more intimately. Witnessing Owen reveal himself to Dr. Stiles for the first time and seeing how it affected him had been even more thrilling. What would it be like to watch Owen do it again, I wondered, now that he was even thicker and longer and larger? My boyfriend had size and influence unmatched hanging from his crotch and in that moment I felt like the gatekeeper to that power. The temptation to wield it recklessly was alluring. What would happen if Owen unleashed his monster meat in front of our dinner guests?
“So tell me something about yourself that no one else knows,” Katherine said.
Owen thought for a moment, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.
“Um, well…darn. I don’t know what to say. I’m not very good at talking about myself,” he said. “What’s something you want to know?”
“I’ll go,” Aaron said loudly. “Is what you’re packing real?”
“I mean, it has its perks,” I said, and pulled his waist closer to mine.
If either of us should’ve been offering thanks, it was me. For weeks, I felt as if I’d been moving through a whirlwind dream, one that I half-expected to crumble at any moment. Not only had I scored a quiet, handsome boyfriend, but one that was endowed like a donkey. As if that slice of life wasn’t sweet enough, we had then stumbled upon an experimental clinical trial that aimed to make him even more endowed—and was actually succeeding in doing so, adding several inches to his already enormous dick. Were it not that I had the privilege of a front row seat to the whole spectacle, I would have easily chalked it up to some sort of sex-crazed fever dream, the sort written about on adult internet forums. But there he stood before me: living, breathing, growing proof.
We traded another kiss, Owen promising he’d be back shortly for our dinner with my friends, Katherine and Aaron. While he darted upstairs to his apartment for a shower and change of clothes, I escaped inside to start dinner. Thirty minutes later, I heard my door open again and his familiar footsteps coming down the hall.
“They should be here any minute!” I called from the kitchen.
“About that,” Owen called back. “We may have a little problem.”
There was, I found as I walked into the living room, nothing little about the situation. Freshly shaven and showered, Owen looked every bit the quintessential boyfriend ready to impress my oldest friends, even if that meant he’d opted for a pinstriped shirt tucked into pleated Dockers. I gave him a quick once over, reminding myself to update his wardrobe—and quickly pinpointed the problem. Although his pants were a dark navy, they did nothing to conceal the fat bulge snaking down his left leg, a bulge made all the more prominent by the large lump of his balls thrusting it forward. Someone might have as well shoved a stick of salami down his pants. Here we go again, I thought. Of all the odd and surreal circumstances that accompanied Owen’s penis enlargement process, one of the most unpredictable factors was the impulsivity of his cock itself. We had learned early on that the endless tugging and prodding and stretching would sometimes leave his dick worn and limp with fatigue. In recent weeks, however, his horse-prick seemed increasingly galvanized by all the attention, rebounding with extra vigor as if to prove that it could not be best and would always rise to the occasion.
“You did take a cold shower, right?”
He looked up at me like a lost puppy. “What’re we going to do?”
“Normally, I’d say we should give the beast what it wants.” I sidled up to him, gripping the enormous log through his pants that was hot to the touch even through the starched fabric; I could feel it throbbing in time with this quickening, panicked pulse. “But we don’t have time for that obviously.”
“I’m serious. I can’t meet your friends like this. Maybe you should say I’m ill?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “Do you have any idea how stupidly head over heels I am for you? I wake up every day convinced that you’re something I dreamed up and astounded that you’re not. Every single thing I feel toward you only gets stronger every second I’m with, including and especially how proud I am of you and I can’t wait to show you off to my friends—every last inch of you.” As I spoke, I could see the resolve softening the worry lines in his face, the last of which vanished completely as I prodded his prodigious bulge. “Besides, the way I see it, this fantastic fuckstick of yours is only going to get harder to hide the bigger it gets, so we might as well begin to find a way to live with it, right?”
Owen chewed the inside of his cheek, considering my words. I could see practically see the tiny cogs and spokes of his brain turning. Finally, the corner of his mouth pulled up into a reluctant smirk.
“Fine, but I blame you. I was fine with just having ten inch dick until you came along.”
“You think they make a shirt that says that?”
Before he could answer, and right on cue, there were three sharp raps at my door. Owen’s hands instantly fell away from my waist and he stepped back, smoothing his hair and straightening his cufflinks in a last ditch effort to present the best package possible. And what a package it is, I thought.
Two familiar, beaming faces greeted me through the peephole of my door. The first belonged to a stunning blonde woman in cable-knit sweater and black leggings. Behind her, an unshaven redhead with a backwards-turned baseball cap was excitedly giving me a double thumbs up. Both of them pounced on the second the door was open, the three of us melting into a familiar and over due group hug that pulled me back in time. The last time we’d shared such an embrace was on the steps of a church in downtown Chicago. Katherine had been in a white wedding gown then, Aaron in a customary tuxedo, the three of us pretending not to see the limousine expectantly waiting for them to finish their tearful parting words with me. “We’ll get together again soon,” she’d said. “Soon as we get back from Fiji,” Aaron had promised. I had merely nodded, knowing even then that I shouldn’t hold them to it given that they were entering a different trajectory of adulthood than I was. That had been three years ago, nearly to the day, but here the three of us all were again, finally reunited.
“I figured it was B-Y-O-B,” Katherine said, brandishing a bottle of wine.
“She means Bring Your Own Boyfriend,” Aaron whispered. “So where’re you hiding him?”
Before I could reply, the two of them were pushing past me and sailing down the hall and toward the living room. I followed them tentatively, unsure of what would be awaiting me, but as I rejoined them it was to find Owen shaking each of their hands in turn, brandishing his brilliantly disarming grin that could persuade anyone to do just about anything. Katherine and Aaron, however, were stock still, their arms limply pumping up and down as Owen introduced himself with all the warmth and welcome of a church deacon. Stepping to Owen’s side, I saw the unmistakable flit of their eyes to his crotch and back again.
“N-Nice to meet you,” Katherine said. Aaron continued staring wordlessly.
Owen cleared his throat. “Pleasure’s all mine.”
“Hope you guys like homemade pizza!” I said, clapping my hands together suddenly. Startled back to the present, Aaron jerked his head upright and cleared his throat. “Why don’t we open that wine? Help me grab some glasses, babe?”
Tugging Owen by his elbow into the kitchen, I informed our guests to grab a seat at the table. “I’m embarrassing you with this,” he hissed the moment we were out of earshot, gesturing at his tenting erection that, if anything, had only gotten larger in the last few minutes. Doesn’t matter if he’s excited, scared, or contented, I thought. That thing will use any excuse to grow.
“I promise you that you’re not. Just go take a seat and try to enjoy yourself.”
Groaning, Owen grabbed a dishtowel and slung it over one arm like a maître d' in a feeble attempt at disguising his overstuffed crotch. I followed promptly with the pizza, catching the abrupt end of a whispered conversation between our guests as I joined them at the table.
“Hope you guys like arugula and goat cheese,” I said.
“Not meat-lovers?” Aaron said.
That earned him an elbow to the ribs from his wife, but thankfully for Owen’s sake, no further quips followed. Nevertheless, each of our first glasses of wine disappeared in record time and was hastily followed by a second. Soon enough however the awkward, anxious silence melted away as the alcohol took hold and we eased into polite relaxation, swapping college memories and catching upon on our respective goings-on. As the night wore, I would glance over the rim of my glass to find Owen’s blue eyes already trained upon me, checking on me checking on him. He and Katherine seemed to hit it off in particular, swapping jokes and laughing loudly, but a faint grimace of discomfort lingered at the corner of his mouth whenever he shifted in his seat. As surreptitiously as he could manage, his hand would fall into his lap to grab his napkin and shift his package to give himself momentary relief.
This was a historic erection for him it seemed, one that refused to depart or dissipate. It’s like his monster cock knows there’s an audience waiting, I thought amusedly. Reaching for another glass of wine, I thought back to the first time I had ever laid eyes on his humongous prick. It was like seeing a grandiose feat of nature: it stirred something in you, reminded you of your relative insignificance by comparison, and made you want to encounter it even more intimately. Witnessing Owen reveal himself to Dr. Stiles for the first time and seeing how it affected him had been even more thrilling. What would it be like to watch Owen do it again, I wondered, now that he was even thicker and longer and larger? My boyfriend had size and influence unmatched hanging from his crotch and in that moment I felt like the gatekeeper to that power. The temptation to wield it recklessly was alluring. What would happen if Owen unleashed his monster meat in front of our dinner guests?
“So tell me something about yourself that no one else knows,” Katherine said.
Owen thought for a moment, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.
“Um, well…darn. I don’t know what to say. I’m not very good at talking about myself,” he said. “What’s something you want to know?”
“I’ll go,” Aaron said loudly. “Is what you’re packing real?”
A deafening stillness blanketed the room.
Katherine and I sat in stunned silence, eyes darting back and forth between our two dinner companions. At one end of the table sat Aaron, arms smugly crossed over his chest and eyebrow cocked, seemingly proud of his confidence and handiwork at having taken command of the conversation. At the other end of the table, which might as well have been a football field’s length away, sat Owen. The color had drained from his face, everywhere except for his cheeks, which were turning a brighter shade of red by the second. Slowly, ever so slowly, his eyes fell, his shoulder slumped, and he shrank in his seat, looking like a child that had just been reprimanded.
“I am so sorry,” Katherine said, finding her voice again. “W-We should go.”
“What? Why?” Aaron countered. “It’s just a simple question. Is it real or not?”
Eyes still downturned, Owen cleared his throat.
“You don’t have to—” I started to say. He raised a hand, cutting me short.
“It’s fine,” he said. “What kind of host would I be if I didn’t oblige your friends?”
Head still bowed, Owen placidly wiped his mouth with the napkin in his lap, before slowly folding it and gingerly depositing it onto his plate. Gathering a deep breath, he took a moment to compose himself before exhaling with a deliberate slowness. When he finished, he placed both his palms flat on the table, pushed back his chair, and rose to his feet. Katherine’s hand suddenly flew out and gripped my forearm, her fingernails digging deep into my flesh as the first hint of my boyfriend’s remarkable bulge came into view. It occurred to me later how very much it must have been like witnessing a sea monster rise from the depths. Three glasses of wine had done absolutely nothing to diminish Owen’s ferocious, Godzillian erection. If anything, it looks even bigger than before. How the fuck? It was if his digestive system had circumvented his stomach and redirected the entirety of our dinner straight to his manhood. Nearly every square inch of available space in his trousers was taut with his enormous, furious hard-on, which seemed determined to prove itself. A tiny sound escaped Katherine’s lips as the formidable shape jumped in his pants, punching at the material that only tenuously contained it. Once, twice, three times Owen flexed his herculean horse-cock and with each contraction it seemed to expand more, until it was hideously overgrown. All the while his arms remained stoically at his side, eyes trained on his challenger across the table, his face expressionless. Most men would’ve worn masks of arrogant pride, but true confidence needed no expression to announce itself and Owen was not like other men. And his robust, growing penis spoke for itself, marked by a swollen cockhead was as close to his kneecap as I had ever seen it. My god I can see the outline of his fucking corona through those pants. I’ve never seen him this large before. Not even after jelqing session.
“So,” Owen said when finally it seemed he could get no bigger. “What’s the verdict?”
With all the willpower I could muster, I forced myself to look away from that egotistically enormous erection and at my oldest friend seated across from me. The smug grin on Aaron’s face had dissolved, replaced by a slack-jawed expression. Hot tears had visibly welled up in the corner of his eyes and his Adam’s apple was bouncing fruitlessly around in his throat as he struggled to find words. But there would be no mercy. Aaron had cast his lot and now had to face the consequences; we all did. I had come to know my boyfriend’s stallion schlong intimately by now and could read its mood. Properly, gloriously hard and larger than ever before, his dick demanded it’s reward. There’s no ignoring that. It won’t go down without a fight. It needs attention. It requires it. If some sort of relief was not lavished upon his pulsing prick soon, I alone would be at the receiving end of a self-indulgent wrecking.
“This is the largest I’ve ever been,” Owen said plainly.
Katherine started to speak, but her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and tried again.
“Just how, um, b-big is it?” she said—before quickly adding: “If you don’t mind my asking.”
Owen’s gaze was still ruthlessly trained upon the far end of the table.
“How big do you think I am, Aaron?”
Across from me, my friend winced at the sound of his own name, as if being literally stung by the direct address of his ostensible superior. There was something almost cruel about watching a man come to terms with his own comparable inadequacy, but who was I to speak on his behalf when he himself had invited this? There was a lesson to be learned in tempting fate and now he had to learn it. Shrugging weakly, Aaron mumbled something beneath his breath, but in the deafening quiet his words were clear: “I don’t know, man.”
His tone sounded more like a plea than anything else, but Owen seemed unmoved.
“Let me help you,” he said. “Katherine, would you be so kind as to pass the wine?”
Aaron dared to lift his eyes to watch as his wife dutifully and without pause reached for the empty wine bottle at the direction of another man. As if realizing the betrayal a second too late, her eyes flew to her husband and she paused, hand outstretched. But the damage had been done. Owen reached out and took the bottle from her, holding it aloft. “The average wine bottle is somewhere between twelve and eighteen inches long,” he said to Aaron alone. “Should we see how I measure up?”
Three heads nodded in silent, robotic unison.
With a steadied hand, Owen unfastened his belt buckle and unbuttoned his pants, his zipper immediately pulling open an inch or so as it struggled to maintain closure the bucking bronco of an erection. Then began the slow descent of his poor, brutalized pants as they slid toward his ankles, revealing to the room that he had foregone underwear altogether. The first thing to emerge was his neatly trimmed patch of dark, pubic hair; I could practically smell the aroma of his musk emanating from it. And there, protruding from beneath the patch was the absurdly wide and pronounced base of his magnificent meat. I nearly gasped myself at the sight of it: the base was an incensed red, nearly purple, with protuberant veins standing out against his skin like iron cords. It looks so painfully trapped when all it wants to do is stand tall, I thought. Come on, babe, quit torturing yourself for the sake of this fool and just let it out! But Owen was deliberate and measured as he pulled his pants lower, the first inches emerging, each just as thick and inflamed as the last. Two inches. Five inches. Eight inches. Ten inches. And still there was more to uncover, more upon which to marvel.
Aaron’s lips quivered as the final stretch of Owen’s merciless erection was finally revealed, his nearly fist-sized cockhead at long last exposed. Finally unburdened by the confines of clothing, his brutal dong wasted no time in trying to rise upward, but whether it was simply now too large or had become too beleaguered, it remained stubbornly parallel to the floor; a veritable cum cannon waiting to unleash the load roiling in the fattened balls suspended beneath it. Grabbing it around the neck, Owen hoisted his enormous cock vertical and placed the wine bottle alongside it so that we all might appreciate his ludicrous size and bear witness to what he had become—and was becoming. If there was any difference in length between the two at all, it was less than a quarter of an inch.
“Look real enough to you, Aaron?”
A wordless, defeated nod from across the table was his reply. Lips still pursed into a thin line, Owen nevertheless seemed appeased and released his cock. It thudded heavily against the table before rising horizontal again, cum-filled nuts shaking. Setting aside the wine bottle, Owen reached for his pants around his knees and began to hike them back up.
“Wait,” Katherine said suddenly. “Can we see it in action?” Owen paused in an odd sort of half-squat, his throbbing cock waiting expectantly. Katherine, whose fingernails were near to drawing blood they were so deeply embedded in my forearm, slowly released her grip and did her best to gather her composure. “I just mean…if you’re not…I think we’re both curious to know. Right, honey?”
To Aaron’s credit, he had not yet dissolved into a blubbering mess, but it was difficult to believe that it was not on the horizon for him. Any resolve and dignity he had maintained was crumbling fast before our eyes though; it didn’t even seem to occur to him to object to his wife’s request. He had clearly resigned himself to whatever was about to unfold, in part, to the deepening influence Owen’s raging erection was clearly foisting upon him. His eyes were glued to the nearly foot-long cock only an arm’s length away, glazed over and empty.
Sensing no objection, Owen reversed course. He kicked off his pants, sending them across the room, and uttered a soft sigh as he adopted a more comfortable, wide-legged stances. His full, heavy ball sack swayed weightily in the new space offered to it, practically roiling like magma. As if on command thick, glistening precum immediately began bubbling up from deep in his groin, dribbling into his awaiting palm, where Owen slathered it along the length of his vein-snaked shaft. A deep groan of satisfaction escaped his lips and his hand began stroking from the base upward. Each pass earned a new gob of precum to the already heavy flow, so much so that Owen’s second hand joined the fun to more evenly distribute it. Within seconds he was double-fisting his engorged prick in earnest, adding in luxurious twists of his wrist and thrusting into his own grip. He could go for hours when he wanted to, I knew, but even in the months since we’d begun dating he had developed a more practiced mastery of his anatomy such that he could practically cum on demand. Evidently this was one of those occasions. In just a matter of minutes, he was reaching for the nearest wine glass and steadying it beneath his swollen cockhead.
“CHRIST!” Aaron cried.
The first jet of jizz rocketed in the glass—“Hnh!”—with audible force, splashing against the side of the glass. Subsequent blasts followed, each punctuated by another powerful grunt. The thick, creamy load continued to climb higher within the glass, each spurt nearly as large as any other man’s entire load and then some. After what must’ve been a dozen gushing squirts, his cock began to slow its release, until finally it stopped altogether. Reaching way down to the thick base, Owen choked it hard and squeezed out the last remnants, tapping his drooling cockhead on the rim of the glass. With a contented sigh, he set the glass on the table proudly, and placed his hands on his hips.
“Anyone care for dessert?”
Katherine and I sat in stunned silence, eyes darting back and forth between our two dinner companions. At one end of the table sat Aaron, arms smugly crossed over his chest and eyebrow cocked, seemingly proud of his confidence and handiwork at having taken command of the conversation. At the other end of the table, which might as well have been a football field’s length away, sat Owen. The color had drained from his face, everywhere except for his cheeks, which were turning a brighter shade of red by the second. Slowly, ever so slowly, his eyes fell, his shoulder slumped, and he shrank in his seat, looking like a child that had just been reprimanded.
“I am so sorry,” Katherine said, finding her voice again. “W-We should go.”
“What? Why?” Aaron countered. “It’s just a simple question. Is it real or not?”
Eyes still downturned, Owen cleared his throat.
“You don’t have to—” I started to say. He raised a hand, cutting me short.
“It’s fine,” he said. “What kind of host would I be if I didn’t oblige your friends?”
Head still bowed, Owen placidly wiped his mouth with the napkin in his lap, before slowly folding it and gingerly depositing it onto his plate. Gathering a deep breath, he took a moment to compose himself before exhaling with a deliberate slowness. When he finished, he placed both his palms flat on the table, pushed back his chair, and rose to his feet. Katherine’s hand suddenly flew out and gripped my forearm, her fingernails digging deep into my flesh as the first hint of my boyfriend’s remarkable bulge came into view. It occurred to me later how very much it must have been like witnessing a sea monster rise from the depths. Three glasses of wine had done absolutely nothing to diminish Owen’s ferocious, Godzillian erection. If anything, it looks even bigger than before. How the fuck? It was if his digestive system had circumvented his stomach and redirected the entirety of our dinner straight to his manhood. Nearly every square inch of available space in his trousers was taut with his enormous, furious hard-on, which seemed determined to prove itself. A tiny sound escaped Katherine’s lips as the formidable shape jumped in his pants, punching at the material that only tenuously contained it. Once, twice, three times Owen flexed his herculean horse-cock and with each contraction it seemed to expand more, until it was hideously overgrown. All the while his arms remained stoically at his side, eyes trained on his challenger across the table, his face expressionless. Most men would’ve worn masks of arrogant pride, but true confidence needed no expression to announce itself and Owen was not like other men. And his robust, growing penis spoke for itself, marked by a swollen cockhead was as close to his kneecap as I had ever seen it. My god I can see the outline of his fucking corona through those pants. I’ve never seen him this large before. Not even after jelqing session.
“So,” Owen said when finally it seemed he could get no bigger. “What’s the verdict?”
With all the willpower I could muster, I forced myself to look away from that egotistically enormous erection and at my oldest friend seated across from me. The smug grin on Aaron’s face had dissolved, replaced by a slack-jawed expression. Hot tears had visibly welled up in the corner of his eyes and his Adam’s apple was bouncing fruitlessly around in his throat as he struggled to find words. But there would be no mercy. Aaron had cast his lot and now had to face the consequences; we all did. I had come to know my boyfriend’s stallion schlong intimately by now and could read its mood. Properly, gloriously hard and larger than ever before, his dick demanded it’s reward. There’s no ignoring that. It won’t go down without a fight. It needs attention. It requires it. If some sort of relief was not lavished upon his pulsing prick soon, I alone would be at the receiving end of a self-indulgent wrecking.
“This is the largest I’ve ever been,” Owen said plainly.
Katherine started to speak, but her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and tried again.
“Just how, um, b-big is it?” she said—before quickly adding: “If you don’t mind my asking.”
Owen’s gaze was still ruthlessly trained upon the far end of the table.
“How big do you think I am, Aaron?”
Across from me, my friend winced at the sound of his own name, as if being literally stung by the direct address of his ostensible superior. There was something almost cruel about watching a man come to terms with his own comparable inadequacy, but who was I to speak on his behalf when he himself had invited this? There was a lesson to be learned in tempting fate and now he had to learn it. Shrugging weakly, Aaron mumbled something beneath his breath, but in the deafening quiet his words were clear: “I don’t know, man.”
His tone sounded more like a plea than anything else, but Owen seemed unmoved.
“Let me help you,” he said. “Katherine, would you be so kind as to pass the wine?”
Aaron dared to lift his eyes to watch as his wife dutifully and without pause reached for the empty wine bottle at the direction of another man. As if realizing the betrayal a second too late, her eyes flew to her husband and she paused, hand outstretched. But the damage had been done. Owen reached out and took the bottle from her, holding it aloft. “The average wine bottle is somewhere between twelve and eighteen inches long,” he said to Aaron alone. “Should we see how I measure up?”
Three heads nodded in silent, robotic unison.
With a steadied hand, Owen unfastened his belt buckle and unbuttoned his pants, his zipper immediately pulling open an inch or so as it struggled to maintain closure the bucking bronco of an erection. Then began the slow descent of his poor, brutalized pants as they slid toward his ankles, revealing to the room that he had foregone underwear altogether. The first thing to emerge was his neatly trimmed patch of dark, pubic hair; I could practically smell the aroma of his musk emanating from it. And there, protruding from beneath the patch was the absurdly wide and pronounced base of his magnificent meat. I nearly gasped myself at the sight of it: the base was an incensed red, nearly purple, with protuberant veins standing out against his skin like iron cords. It looks so painfully trapped when all it wants to do is stand tall, I thought. Come on, babe, quit torturing yourself for the sake of this fool and just let it out! But Owen was deliberate and measured as he pulled his pants lower, the first inches emerging, each just as thick and inflamed as the last. Two inches. Five inches. Eight inches. Ten inches. And still there was more to uncover, more upon which to marvel.
Aaron’s lips quivered as the final stretch of Owen’s merciless erection was finally revealed, his nearly fist-sized cockhead at long last exposed. Finally unburdened by the confines of clothing, his brutal dong wasted no time in trying to rise upward, but whether it was simply now too large or had become too beleaguered, it remained stubbornly parallel to the floor; a veritable cum cannon waiting to unleash the load roiling in the fattened balls suspended beneath it. Grabbing it around the neck, Owen hoisted his enormous cock vertical and placed the wine bottle alongside it so that we all might appreciate his ludicrous size and bear witness to what he had become—and was becoming. If there was any difference in length between the two at all, it was less than a quarter of an inch.
“Look real enough to you, Aaron?”
A wordless, defeated nod from across the table was his reply. Lips still pursed into a thin line, Owen nevertheless seemed appeased and released his cock. It thudded heavily against the table before rising horizontal again, cum-filled nuts shaking. Setting aside the wine bottle, Owen reached for his pants around his knees and began to hike them back up.
“Wait,” Katherine said suddenly. “Can we see it in action?” Owen paused in an odd sort of half-squat, his throbbing cock waiting expectantly. Katherine, whose fingernails were near to drawing blood they were so deeply embedded in my forearm, slowly released her grip and did her best to gather her composure. “I just mean…if you’re not…I think we’re both curious to know. Right, honey?”
To Aaron’s credit, he had not yet dissolved into a blubbering mess, but it was difficult to believe that it was not on the horizon for him. Any resolve and dignity he had maintained was crumbling fast before our eyes though; it didn’t even seem to occur to him to object to his wife’s request. He had clearly resigned himself to whatever was about to unfold, in part, to the deepening influence Owen’s raging erection was clearly foisting upon him. His eyes were glued to the nearly foot-long cock only an arm’s length away, glazed over and empty.
Sensing no objection, Owen reversed course. He kicked off his pants, sending them across the room, and uttered a soft sigh as he adopted a more comfortable, wide-legged stances. His full, heavy ball sack swayed weightily in the new space offered to it, practically roiling like magma. As if on command thick, glistening precum immediately began bubbling up from deep in his groin, dribbling into his awaiting palm, where Owen slathered it along the length of his vein-snaked shaft. A deep groan of satisfaction escaped his lips and his hand began stroking from the base upward. Each pass earned a new gob of precum to the already heavy flow, so much so that Owen’s second hand joined the fun to more evenly distribute it. Within seconds he was double-fisting his engorged prick in earnest, adding in luxurious twists of his wrist and thrusting into his own grip. He could go for hours when he wanted to, I knew, but even in the months since we’d begun dating he had developed a more practiced mastery of his anatomy such that he could practically cum on demand. Evidently this was one of those occasions. In just a matter of minutes, he was reaching for the nearest wine glass and steadying it beneath his swollen cockhead.
“CHRIST!” Aaron cried.
The first jet of jizz rocketed in the glass—“Hnh!”—with audible force, splashing against the side of the glass. Subsequent blasts followed, each punctuated by another powerful grunt. The thick, creamy load continued to climb higher within the glass, each spurt nearly as large as any other man’s entire load and then some. After what must’ve been a dozen gushing squirts, his cock began to slow its release, until finally it stopped altogether. Reaching way down to the thick base, Owen choked it hard and squeezed out the last remnants, tapping his drooling cockhead on the rim of the glass. With a contented sigh, he set the glass on the table proudly, and placed his hands on his hips.
“Anyone care for dessert?”
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Wow. That was incredibly hot. Thank you so much for the update. I can’t wait to see how big he gets
Absolutely worth the wait, thanks GJackN! Looking forward to the next installment already!
As always, thank you very much for the kind words. They truly mean the world to me.
Merry Christmas!
Merry Christmas!
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