Envy for big dick

[wildfire1106]

My name’s Ethan Carver, a lanky 19-year-old with shaggy brown hair and a quiet demeanor, the kind of guy who blends into the background of a crowded college dorm. I’d just started my freshman year at Westbridge University, a sprawling campus with red-brick buildings and too many people to keep track of. I wasn’t much to look at—average height, pale skin, and a dick that barely clocked in at four inches hard. It wasn’t something I advertised, but it gnawed at me. Every time I showered in the communal bathrooms, I’d catch myself sneaking glances at the other guys—their thick, swinging cocks, heavy and confident, everything mine wasn’t. I envied them. No, it was more than envy—it was a deep, aching hunger I couldn’t shake.
My roommate, Jace Maddox, was the worst of them. Or the best, depending on how you looked at it. He was a junior, 21, with a chiseled jaw, jet-black hair, and a body carved from hours at the gym—broad shoulders, a tight waist, and legs that looked like they could crush me if he wanted. But it wasn’t just his build that got me. It was what he was packing below the belt. The first time I saw it, I nearly choked on my own spit. We’d been in our cramped dorm room, a mess of textbooks and dirty laundry, when he’d stripped down after a late-night workout. His sweat-soaked briefs clung to him for a second before he peeled them off, and there it was—eight inches soft, thick as a beer can, hanging low between his thighs like a goddamn trophy. He caught me staring, my mouth half-open, and smirked.
“What’s up, Ethan? Never seen a real dick before?” he teased, tossing his briefs into the hamper. His voice was deep, cocky, the kind that made my stomach flip. I stammered something incoherent and turned away, my face burning. But that image stuck with me. Every night after that, I’d lie in my bunk, listening to him breathe across the room, imagining that monster of a cock. I’d touch myself under the sheets, my small dick twitching in my hand, picturing Jace towering over me, using it on me. It was a fantasy I couldn’t admit out loud—not yet.
Weeks passed, and my obsession grew. Jace was shameless about his size, strutting around in tight boxers or nothing at all, letting me steal glances. I’d catch him adjusting himself absentmindedly, his hand lingering just long enough to make me squirm. He started dropping hints, too—little comments that made my pulse race. “You’re always so quiet, Ethan. What’s going on in that head of yours?” he’d say, his hazel eyes glinting with something I couldn’t place. I’d shrug it off, but inside, I was unraveling.
One night, everything shifted. It was late, maybe 2 a.m., and the dorm was dead quiet. I’d been scrolling on my phone, headphones in, when I stumbled across a porn clip—some hung top railing a whimpering bottom, the kind of scene that hit every button I didn’t know I had. My dick was hard in seconds, tenting my pajama pants, and I couldn’t stop myself. I slipped a hand under the waistband, stroking myself fast and sloppy, my breath hitching as I imagined it was me on that screen, taking a cock like Jace’s. I was so lost in it that I didn’t hear the creak of his bunk.
“Caught you,” Jace’s voice cut through the dark, low and amused. I froze, yanking my hand out, my phone clattering to the floor. The screen was still glowing, the moans from the video faint but unmistakable. He leaned over the edge of his bunk, shirtless, his hair tousled from sleep, grinning like he’d just won something. “Don’t stop on my account, man. Looked like you were enjoying yourself.”
“I—I wasn’t—” I stammered, but he hopped down, all six-foot-two of him, and snatched my phone before I could grab it. He watched the clip for a second, his grin widening.
“Big dicks, huh? That’s your thing?” He glanced at me, then down at his own crotch, where his boxers were already straining against what I knew was underneath. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve been eye-fucking me since day one.”
I couldn’t speak. My throat was dry, my dick still half-hard and traitorously obvious. He stepped closer, towering over me, and I could smell him—sweat and musk and something primal that made my head spin. “Tell me, Ethan,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You ever wonder what it’d feel like? Something like this”—he grabbed his bulge, giving it a slow, deliberate squeeze—“fucking you senseless?”
I should’ve said no. I should’ve laughed it off. But I didn’t. I just sat there, trembling, my small dick throbbing, and nodded. That was all he needed.

 

[wildfire1106]

Jace didn’t waste a second after my shaky nod. The air in our dorm room felt thick, charged with something I couldn’t name but could damn well feel. He stood over me, his broad frame blocking out the dim light from the window, his boxers stretched tight across that obscene bulge. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it’d break a rib. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband and slid them down, slow and deliberate, letting his cock spring free. It slapped against his thigh, already half-hard, thick veins snaking along its length, the head glistening faintly in the dark. Nine inches, maybe more now that it was waking up, and so fat I couldn’t imagine it fitting anywhere. My small dick twitched in my pajama pants, pathetic by comparison, and I hated how much that turned me on.
“Get on your knees,” he said, not asking, just telling. His voice was rough, commanding, and it hit me like a punch to the gut. I slid off the bed, my legs wobbly, and dropped to the worn carpet. Up close, his cock was even more intimidating—hot and heavy, radiating heat as it bobbed inches from my face. He grabbed the base with one hand, stroking himself lazily, letting it swell to full size. “You’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you? Go on, touch it.”
I hesitated, my hands trembling, but the ache in my core was louder than my nerves. I reached out, wrapping my fingers around him—or trying to. My hand barely closed halfway around his girth, and the weight of it, the pulsing warmth, made my breath catch. He was rock-hard now, the skin silky-smooth over a core like steel, and I could feel every throb as I slid my hand up and down, mimicking what I’d seen in those videos. A bead of precum leaked from the tip, shiny and slick, and I licked my lips without thinking.
“Fuck, you’re eager,” Jace chuckled, low and dirty. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, not hard but firm, guiding my head closer. “Open your mouth, Ethan. Let’s see what you can do.”
I did, my jaw stretching wide as he fed me the head. It was salty, musky, overwhelming—my tongue flattened under its weight as I tried to take more. I gagged almost instantly, my throat clenching as he pushed past my lips, but he didn’t pull back. “Relax,” he growled, his grip tightening. “Breathe through your nose. You’re gonna learn to love this.”
I tried, tears prickling my eyes as I adjusted to the invasion. He rocked his hips, slow at first, sliding in and out, coating my tongue with his taste. My small dick was leaking now, a wet spot spreading across my pants, but I didn’t care. All I could focus on was him—his thick shaft stretching my mouth, the way it pulsed against my palate, the grunts he let out every time I hollowed my cheeks. I bobbed my head, sloppy and inexperienced, spit dribbling down my chin as I worshipped him. He was so hung, so dominant, and I was nothing next to him—just a small-dicked freshman melting under his control.
“Shit, you’re a natural,” he muttered, thrusting deeper. The head hit the back of my throat, and I choked, but he held me there, his balls brushing my chin, heavy and full. “Look at you, gagging on it. Bet you’ve jerked off thinking about this every night.”
He wasn’t wrong. My hands gripped his thighs, thick with muscle, as he fucked my face, each thrust harder than the last. My jaw ached, my throat burned, but the humiliation only fueled me. I wanted more—needed it. He pulled out suddenly, a wet pop echoing in the quiet room, and I gasped for air, my lips swollen and slick. His cock loomed over me, glistening with my spit, and he stroked it fast, smirking down at me.
“Strip,” he ordered. “I’m not done with you.”
I scrambled to obey, peeling off my shirt and pants, my small dick bobbing free—hard, pitiful, nothing compared to his. He laughed, a dark sound that made my skin prickle, and shoved me back onto my bunk. I landed on my back, legs splayed, and he climbed over me, his weight pinning me down. His cock rested heavy on my stomach, stretching past my navel, a stark reminder of the gap between us. He ground against me, the slick underside dragging over my skin, and I whimpered, my own dick trapped beneath his.
“Feel that?” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. “That’s what a real man’s cock feels like. And you’re gonna take every inch.”
He grabbed a bottle of lube from his nightstand—guess he’d been ready for this—and slicked himself up, his hand gliding over his shaft with a wet squelch. Then he lifted my legs, pushing my knees to my chest, exposing me completely. I felt small, vulnerable, but the anticipation drowned out any shame. He pressed the head against my hole, huge and blunt, and I tensed.
“Relax, slut,” he said, slapping my ass lightly. “You’re mine now.”
And with that, he pushed in.

 

[wildfire1106]

The first push was brutal. Jace’s cockhead breached me, thick and unrelenting, stretching my hole beyond anything I’d ever felt. I gasped, my hands clawing at the sheets, my small dick twitching helplessly as pain and heat flooded my body. He didn’t stop—just kept sliding in, slow but steady, the lube easing the way but doing little to dull the sheer size of him. I could feel every inch, every vein, as he split me open, my tight ring clenching around him like it was trying to fight back. It didn’t matter. He was too strong, too hung, and I was too far gone to want him to stop.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” Jace groaned, his voice thick with lust. He gripped my hips, fingers digging into my skin, and thrust deeper, burying half his length inside me. My breath hitched, a high-pitched whine escaping my throat as my body adjusted—or tried to. The pressure was insane, a burning ache that morphed into something else, something raw and electric. He paused, letting me feel him, his cock pulsing hot and alive inside me, and smirked down at my flushed, wrecked face. “Look at you, taking it like a good little bitch. Bet you’ve been dying for this.”
I couldn’t answer. My mind was a haze, my small dick leaking onto my stomach, a pitiful dribble next to the monster claiming me. He pulled back, the drag of his shaft sending shivers up my spine, then slammed back in, harder this time. I yelped, my legs trembling in his grip, but he didn’t care. He started fucking me in earnest—long, deep strokes that made my bunk creak, his balls slapping against my ass with every thrust. The sound was obscene—wet, rhythmic, filling the dorm room like a drumbeat. My hole stretched wide, molding to him, and the pain faded into a throbbing pleasure I couldn’t deny.
“Goddamn, you’re made for this,” he growled, picking up the pace. His hips snapped forward, driving his cock so deep I swore I could feel it in my gut. My insides churned, rearranged by his size, and I moaned, loud and shameless, my voice cracking as he pounded me. Sweat dripped from his brow onto my chest, his muscles flexing under the strain, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him—his power, his dominance, the way his huge dick owned me completely. My own cock bounced uselessly, small and forgotten, but I didn’t need to touch it. The pressure building inside me was enough.
He shifted, hooking my legs over his shoulders, folding me in half. The new angle let him hit something—a spot that made my vision blur and my toes curl. I cried out, my hands scrabbling at his arms, and he laughed, dark and triumphant. “There it is. You’re gonna cum from this, aren’t you? Just from my dick wrecking you.”
He was right. He hammered that spot relentlessly, his thick shaft grinding against it, and I felt it—the coil tightening, the heat exploding. My small dick spasmed, untouched, spurting weak ropes of cum across my stomach as I shook beneath him. My hole clenched around him, milking his cock, and he groaned, slamming in balls-deep. “Fuck yeah, that’s it. Cum for me, slut.”
I was still reeling, dazed and panting, when he pulled out, leaving me empty and gaping. But he wasn’t done. He flipped me onto my stomach, yanking my hips up so my ass was in the air, my face pressed into the mattress. “Round two,” he said, smacking my cheek hard enough to sting. He didn’t bother with more lube—just spit into his hand, slicked himself up, and shoved back in. I screamed into the pillow, muffled but desperate, as he filled me again, his girth stretching me to the limit. This time, he didn’t hold back. He fucked me like an animal—fast, brutal, his hands bruising my hips as he chased his own release.
The bed rocked, the frame groaning under us, and I lost myself in it—the slap of skin, the wet squelch of my wrecked hole, the way his cock dominated every inch of me. He gripped my hair, pulling my head back, and leaned down to hiss in my ear. “You’re my bitch now, Ethan. This ass belongs to me. Say it.”
“Y-yours,” I choked out, my voice wrecked, my body trembling. “It’s yours.”
“Good boy.” He thrust harder, deeper, his rhythm faltering as he got close. I could feel him swelling, stretching me even more, and then he roared, burying himself to the hilt. Hot cum flooded me, pulse after pulse, so much it leaked out around his cock, dripping down my thighs. He held me there, impaled, as he rode it out, his breath ragged against my neck.
When he finally pulled out, I collapsed, my ass throbbing, my mind blank. He slapped my cheek again, lighter this time, and chuckled. “Not bad for your first time. But don’t get too comfortable. I’ve got plans for you.”
I didn’t know what he meant—not yet. But as I lay there, leaking his load, my small dick soft and spent, I knew one thing: I was hooked. And he knew it too.

 

[wildfire1106]

The next morning, I woke up sore and sticky, the memory of Jace’s cock still branded into my body. My ass ached, a dull throb that pulsed every time I shifted on the bunk, and my small dick twitched at the thought despite myself. He’d fucked me twice more after that first round—once against the wall, my legs barely holding me up as he pinned me there, and again on his bunk, slow and deliberate, making me beg for it. I’d said things I couldn’t take back, whimpering “please” and “harder” like some desperate slut, and he’d delivered, leaving me a trembling mess leaking his cum. Now, sunlight streamed through the dorm window, and he was already up, pulling on a tank top like nothing had happened.
“Morning, princess,” he said, smirking as he caught me staring. “Sleep well?”
I mumbled something incoherent, my face burning. He sauntered over, all swagger and muscle, and ruffled my hair like I was a kid—or a pet. “Don’t look so wrecked. You loved it. And we’re just getting started.” Before I could ask what he meant, he grabbed his gym bag and headed out, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and the damp spot on my sheets.
That night, he came back with company. I was sprawled on my bunk, scrolling my phone, when the door banged open. Jace strode in, followed by two guys I vaguely recognized from campus. The first was Travis, a blond linebacker with a square jaw and a reputation for breaking hearts—and beds. The second was Kyle, leaner but still ripped, with dark skin and a quiet intensity that made me nervous. Both were juniors, both oozed confidence, and both were eyeing me like they knew something I didn’t.
“Guys, this is Ethan,” Jace said, dropping his bag with a thud. “My new roommate. Told you he’s a freak for big dicks.” He grinned, and my stomach dropped. Travis laughed, a deep, booming sound, while Kyle just raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking to my crotch like he could see right through my shorts.
“Seriously?” Travis said, stepping closer. “You weren’t kidding, Jace. He’s got that look.”
“What look?” I croaked, but Jace cut me off, slinging an arm around my shoulders.
“The ‘I’ll do anything for a hung top’ look. Right, Ethan?” He squeezed, his grip firm, and I couldn’t deny it—not after last night. My silence was answer enough. Travis smirked, adjusting himself through his jeans, and I caught a glimpse of the outline—thick, long, another monster I couldn’t compete with. Kyle stayed quiet, but his eyes never left me.
“Show ‘em,” Jace said, nudging me toward the center of the room. “Strip.”
I froze. “What?”
“You heard me. They don’t believe me. Prove it.” His tone was casual, but there was steel underneath. My hands shook as I stood, peeling off my shirt, then my shorts, until I was naked, my small dick soft and exposed. Travis whistled, low and mocking, while Kyle’s lips twitched into a faint smile.
“Damn, Jace, you weren’t lying. He’s tiny,” Travis said, stepping closer. He unzipped his jeans, pulling out his cock—eight inches, girthy, with a slight curve—and waved it at me. “This what you’re into, huh?”
Before I could answer, Jace grabbed my arm, pushing me to my knees. “Show ‘em how good you are with your mouth. Like you did for me.”
My heart raced, but my body obeyed. Travis stepped up, his cock hardening in front of my face, and I opened my mouth, taking him in. He was different from Jace—saltier, muskier, the curve hitting the roof of my mouth as I sucked. I gagged as he pushed deeper, his hand on my head, but I kept going, my small dick stiffening despite the humiliation. Jace watched, stroking himself through his pants, while Kyle circled behind me, his presence a quiet threat.
“Fuck, he’s eager,” Travis grunted, thrusting into my throat. Spit dripped down my chin, my jaw aching, but I didn’t stop. Then I felt hands on my hips—Kyle’s, rough and sure. He’d stripped silently, and now his cock—longer than Jace’s, maybe ten inches, but slimmer—pressed against my ass. No warning, just a quick squirt of lube from a bottle Jace tossed him, and he slid in.
I moaned around Travis’s dick, the sound muffled as Kyle filled me, stretching me again. He was relentless, his thrusts deep and precise, hitting that spot Jace had found last night. My body rocked between them, impaled on both ends, and I couldn’t think—just feel. Travis fucked my face, his balls smacking my chin, while Kyle pounded my ass, his hands bruising my hips. Jace stood over us, fully hard now, jerking himself as he watched.
“Look at you,” Jace said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Taking two at once. Told you you’re a slut for big cocks.”
They didn’t stop until they finished—Travis first, groaning as he shot down my throat, thick and bitter, forcing me to swallow. Kyle followed, pulling out to cum across my back, hot streaks painting my skin. I collapsed, gasping, my own small dick leaking a weak dribble onto the floor. Jace stepped up last, finishing himself off over my face, his load dripping down my cheeks.
“Perfect,” he said, wiping his hand on my hair. “You’re ours now, Ethan. All of us.”
As they laughed and high-fived, I realized what he’d done. He’d shared my secret—my envy, my fantasies—and turned me into their toy. And the worst part? I didn’t want it to stop.

 

[wildfire1106]

After that night with Travis and Kyle, something in me broke—or maybe it finally clicked. The shame I’d carried about my small dick, the envy that had gnawed at me for years, it all melted into a twisted kind of freedom. Jace had seen it in me from the start, and now he’d unleashed it. I wasn’t just his anymore—I was theirs, a sub bottom for any hung top who wanted me. And I craved it, every bruising thrust, every smug grin, every moment they made me feel small and used. My dorm room became a revolving door of cocks, and I lost track of the names, the faces, just drowned in the sensation.
It started slow. Jace brought Travis and Kyle back a few nights later, and they took turns again—Travis sprawled on my bunk, his thick eight inches stretching my throat while Kyle railed me from behind, his long, slim cock spearing me deep. Jace watched, directing them like a goddamn maestro, telling them where to grab, how hard to go. “Make him scream,” he’d say, and they did. My hole was raw by the end, leaking their cum, my voice hoarse from moaning into the pillow. But it didn’t stop there. Word spread—Jace made sure of it.
By mid-semester, I was a campus secret, a whispered name among the jocks and frat guys with big dicks and bigger egos. They’d show up unannounced, sometimes alone, sometimes in pairs. There was Ryan, a redheaded wrestler with a seven-inch beast, uncut and brutal, who liked me on all fours, his hands yanking my hair as he pounded me until I saw stars. Then Malik, a basketball player with nine inches of smooth, dark meat, who’d sit back and make me ride him, my thighs burning as I impaled myself, his deep grunts filling the room. Each one was different—thick, long, curved, straight—but they all had one thing in common: they dwarfed me, and I worshipped them for it.
One night stood out, a blurry peak of my new life. Jace had thrown a “party”—just me and five guys from the football team, all hung like horses. The room stank of sweat and sex, the air thick with their laughter and my gasps. They stripped me down, tossing my clothes aside, and bent me over the desk. First was Connor, the quarterback, his ten-inch cock a battering ram that split me open, his thrusts so hard the desk scraped across the floor. I clawed at the wood, my small dick dripping as he fucked me, his balls slapping my thighs with every slam. “Tight little slut,” he growled, unloading inside me, hot and thick, before stepping back.
Next was Diego, a lineman with a fat eight-incher, who flipped me onto my back and spread my legs wide. He went slow at first, teasing my wrecked hole with the head, then plunged in, stretching me until I whimpered. His rhythm was relentless, a wet squelch every time he bottomed out, and I came without touching myself, a weak spurt across my stomach as he grinned down at me. The others took their turns—two at a time sometimes, one in my mouth, one in my ass—until I was a mess of cum and spit, my body trembling, my mind blank.
Jace always finished me off. That night, he waited until they were done, then climbed over me, his nine-inch cock hard and dripping. He didn’t bother with lube—just used the mess they’d left, sliding into my gaping hole with a groan. “Look at you,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “Fucked out and still begging for it.” He fucked me hard, his hips snapping, his shaft grinding against every sensitive spot until I was sobbing, my small dick twitching uselessly. When he came, it was deep, a flood that mixed with the others, marking me as his.
After, they’d leave me there—sore, leaking, satisfied—and I’d lie in the dark, replaying it all. My envy had become my reality. I didn’t just admire huge cocks anymore—I served them, lived for them. Jace had enslaved me, sure, but I’d handed him the chains. College wasn’t about classes or grades now—it was about this, my sub bottom slut life, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
One morning, as I limped to the shower, Jace caught my eye and smirked. “You’re a legend, Ethan. Every hung top on campus knows your name.” I smiled back, weak but proud, my small dick hidden under a towel, my ass still throbbing from the night before. I’d found my place—under them, beneath them, taking them—and I was never going back.