Body To Match The Package

[musclesmoker]

Body to Match the Package, part 6

As I walked into the mall, I was 100% conscious of my looks and the confidence and pure sex that my new body exuded. I could feel eyes lingering on my well-muscled jock body, covered in hot Underarmour that would drive any gay wild. I had one store in mind, Nick's, which was a blend of sports equipment, workout gear, and casual-to-semiformal clothes for men only. Part of the appeal was that every one of the employees was a hot, hunky stud, some of them swimmers, some wrestlers, some bodybuilders -- a wide array of eye candy. Just before I walked through the doors, I caught sight of Jake, my fantasy crush (but also total homophobic douchebag) from school standing outside a store a few doors down. He briefly glanced at me, did a good once-over that jocks so often do to judge where they sit on the ladder of body status, and then glanced at my face. I was moving pretty quickly, although I caught a brief look of curiosity in his eyes, like he recognized me from somewhere but couldn't place it. I then caught his eyes trail down to my glutes, straining the fabric of my gym shorts, and noticed as he subconsciously stratched (or maybe even adjusted) his junk in his own somewhat-tented cargo shorts. That was the first time I had ever seen any kind of display of male interest from him, and it triggered a feeling of desire and curiosity in my testosterone-filled mind. Maybe he was into guys after all? But only well-built, model-faced guys? I digress.

I walked into Nick's and looked around at the large store, divided more or less into workout gear, sports gear, casual wear like shorts and t-shirts, a large underwear section, and semi-formal wear including some nice dress pants, shirts and ties. I got a bit distracted by the long, high wall of underwear nearest me, proudly displaying everything from compression shorts, to jocks, to briefs and thongs, some of which were clearly made with larger-than-life pouches for overly-endowed men. Truly a perfect store for guys like me. I then caught sight of movement out of the corner of my eye as a deep, sexy voice with a slight southern twang said, "Hey dude, I'm Ben. Looking for anything in particular?" While he spoke, I turned to face him, and my vision was assaulted by a true adonis. Ben had a build somewhere between mine and a junior bodybuilder, with more muscle than me but a harsher face. He was wearing the standard Nick's uniform -- a tight black stretch Nike polo, and even tighter light grey jeans, which beautiful brown Italian leather slip-on shoes. His entire body was pulsing, and each muscle was nicely visible through the uniform, including his heavy pecs that pointed straight down, teasing me to glance downward to his eight pack that was outlined through the fabric of the tight shirt, to a hot extra large silver belt buckle that sat above a round, plump bulge in his skintight jeans. I couldn't help but stare at it, imagining what beautiful junk must be contained inside it, and I automatically licked my lips at the thought. Beyond his package were his two monster quads that were threatening to tear through the grey fabric. Jesus fucking christ.

I glanced back up to his face and into his eyes, which were a deep brown. He was grinning broadly, displaying perfectly straight white teeth. He reached out and grabbed my shoulder, saying "Ha, dude, glad you like what you see. You're not so bad yourself," as he peered behind me and gave my ass a good jock smack. "Damn - that's quite a rump. What can I do for you, stud?"

I felt my dick pulse in my compression shorts, pumping a steady stream of precum through the fabric, pooling slightly and threatening to start running down my leg. Ben noticed the tent in my shorts, despite the best effort of the tight yellow compression shorts, and grinned even more devilishly, obviously intrigued by the monster hiding there. "Well, Ben, I'm Jamie and I just moved to town a few days ago and I wasn't able to bring too much with me. I need a full new wardrobe, more or less, and definitely lots of gym gear." I knew he wouldn't catch the lie, since he didn't know be from the next guy. "Mind giving me a hand picking some stuff out?" He reached out and grabbed my right bicep through the tight red fabric of my UA shirt, giving is a playful squeeze. Then he looked at my left arm quizzicaly, noticing the square pack of cigs held tightly there by the fabric against my swollen bicep. "Dude, we shouldn't have a problem finding some hot stuff for your to strut around in. Follow me and we'll get you set up with a fitting room and I'll start throwing some stuff your way. Or, you could pick some things out yourself, but I find my way works pretty well." I chuckled a bit in my newly deepened voice, and winked at Ben, replying "I think your way sounds perfect." He turned and started walking towards the back of the store where a couple banks of fitting rooms were, and I got to watch his bulbous ass push him forward in his wonderfully tight pants. Honestly, I think my ass was as muscled if not more than his, and the thought made my dick pulse even more.

He led me to one of the more private rooms, around a corner and facing the very back wall of the store. "We'll stick you here in number three," he said, unlocking the door. Go on in and strip down to your trunks and I'll be back before you know it. He turned back towards the main part of the store, jogging to grab me my first set of new clothes. I hung my hat on a hook and quickly hauled off my shirt and took a quick look at my torso in the full-room mirrors, admiring my heavy chest, thick biceps, and wide back all at the same time. It was a beautiful sight to see. "I wonder what these nips would look like pierced?" I thought, also wondering where the thought came from. Then I pulled down my shorts, revealing my thick quads fighting slightly for space, and, most impressively, my pulsing package that was clearly framed by the yellow compression shorts, capped off by a nice pool of precum leaking through near the leg opening, courtesy of my 11 inches of half-hard cock threatening to escape towards my knee. I could also clearly see my two kiwi-sized balls, hanging low down my left quad behind my thick cock. "I wonder how he'll react to this monster junk?" I thought as I heard a light knock at the door.

"Hey Jay, stud, let me in. Got your first set of gear here to try on for size." "Well, here goes nothing," I thought, and turned and opened the door, pulling it fully open. I dropped my hands to my sides and stood as if to say "well, what do you think?" and I watched as Ben's eyes wandered from my eyes, to my perfectly square jaw, down over my broad shoulders and heavy pecs, lingering slightly on my tight abs, and then his eyes widening and jaw dropping slightly as his brain processed the thick, bulging package he was seeing for the first time. He caught himself after a few seconds, looked back at my face, and said, "Well shit, dude, this might be more tricky than I'd thought. You got some serious man meat there. You'll definitely need some underwear from our 'blessed' section...but not a problem... fuck, dude, how do you walk around with that monster?" I chuckled, and said, "Well, I've had it since I was 11 when it just kind of grew all of a sudden. I've had a few years to get used to walking around it." I reached down with my left hand and squeezed the shaft for good measure, making it pretty obvious for him that it was real, and just how hefty it really is. I pulled it away from my leg, stretching the tight yellow fabric further, and then let it snap back, making a tight thwack sound against my muscled thigh.

"Well fuck. Okay. Here, try these jeans, and good luck stuffing that monster into them. I'm gonna go swap the underwear I picked out for whatever stuff we have with the biggest pouches. Oh, and here's a couple shirts to try too." He handed the armful of clothes to me and I looked into his eyes, said a sincere "thanks," and he replied quietly, "Jesus christ, you're a wet dream" before turning and heading back out into the store.

I admit the interaction boosted my confidence to the bursting point, my ego swelling substantially along with my cock. A wet dream? Did that fucking muscle jock really just say that about me? I was in ecstasy at the further confirmation that I was truly beautiful and desirable.

I focussed back on the task at hand and decided to try the jeans commando, figuring that the compression shorts would really just get in the way considering how tight the jeans looked, and I wanted to get a real feel for the fabric and how it worked with my new muscle. I dropped the yellow compression shorts, hauling them down over my pulsing quads, and pulled the jeans up over my calves, admiring how they looked in the mirror, nice diamond muscles coated in the well-fitted stretch denim. Next came the quads, which the jeans accommodated well by stretching over the veiny muscle. They were tight but comfortable and really showed how thick my wheels had gotten. And, next, my junk. I grabbed my dick mid-way down the shaft in one hand, admiring its weight, and my two mammoth nuts in the other hand, and simultaneously stuffed them down the left leg of the jeans -- more or less, anyway -- though the overall thickness of my dick, especially at its base, would cause a real nice full bulge up front. I took a few seconds to adjust my package, making sure my dick and nuts were hanging as far down the leg of the jeans as possible so they wouldn't feel cramped, hauled hard to get the fabric to stretch up over my round, meaty ass, and then did up the five button fly. Thank god the denim was blended with spandex or lycra or something.  I glanced in the mirror to my right, and was blown away by the look. Between the bulge protruding out in front of me and my ass sitting like a shelf behind me, I had a very impressive, bordering on obscene, and threatening profile. The button fly really helped show off how much meat I had between my legs, which themselves looked incredible in the tight fabric. I looked back to my face and grinned, when I heard "Alright, horse, I'm back with more." I quickly grabbed a dark blue button-up shirt from the pile Ben had brought earlier, pulled it on over my thick arms, and buttoned the cotton-like stretch fabric over my abs and chest. After one more glance to verify that I was truly a wet dream, I swung the door open.

Ben, momentarily distracted by a coworker, turned to face me and actually dropped the pile of clothes he was holding. "Mother of fucking god," he said, his voice weakening. He kicked the clothes into the dressing room and then put both hands to my chest, pushing me against the back mirror. He slammed the door shut and began kissing me fiercely while his hands wandered over my wrestler body, admiring how my muscle stretched every ounce of the fabric of my pants and shirt, and then dropping to his knees to study my package. He ran his hands along the shaft of my dick, feeling the heat emanating from it as it stretched the tight denim, and then cupped my balls, one in each hand, as he began to bite and lick my dickhead through the denim. I leaned against the mirror, my eyes rolling back in my head as I experienced my first ever real life sex. He continued rubbing my package and reached behind me, trying to grab at my glutes but having trouble getting the massive amount of meat into his hand despite its large size. "I need this fucking third leg of yours," he said with overwhelming desire, and ripped my jeans open with brute jock force, one of the buttons actually flying off and hitting the door. He pulled them down quickly, struggling a bit to get them down over my ass and quads, and my rock-hard 14 inches of cock shot to full attention, slapping his cheek with incredible force. He stretched his mouth open wide and forced his teeth apart, and managed to get my full dick head inside his gaping mouth, massaging its underside with his tongue. Feeling his thick lips and his hot breath on my shaft was driving me wild, as he looked up at me pleadingly, begging me for my load as he stared deeply into my piercing blue eyes.

Something clicked in my head and I felt an overwhelming craving, my brain knowing exactly what it needed to make the situation absolutely perfect. I bent towards the bench beside me and rummaged through the pile of clothes for my pack of Luckies and zippo, finally finding it and quickly, fiercely lighting a cig, taking a monster drag hard into my lungs and holding it there. Ben momentarily pulled off my dick, saying "uh dude, you probably shouldn't..." but I pulled his head back down my on cock, forcing it into his throat, which was stretching desperately and maybe a little painfully to accommodate my girth. His eyes began to water heavily as I pulled his head closer and closer to my crotch, while he choked but obviously enjoyed the feeling of his throat being stuffed with my pulsing, hot horse cock. I continued hauling fiercely on my cig, flooding my system once again with precious nicotine, feeling my lungs tighten ever so slightly from the dose of tar. He kept sucking on my dick as I smoked, managing to take a good 8 of my inches, teasing the head and shaft with his tongue and teeth. As I took my last heavy drag from the cig, I felt a massive buildup of cum start to flow up from my nuts, hanging well below his pecs as he kneeled in front of me, and travelling up the sack and out through my 14 inch shaft. My knees buckled as I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him further down my cock, past the eight inch mark he had gotten used to taking, and fell back hard against the mirror as my nuts unleashed a monster volley of cum into his gut. I came more than ever before in my life, and it trickled out the sides of his mouth and even some out of his nose, as he choked on my seed but worshipped it too. I threw the spent butt of my cig to the floor and exhaled my final drag hard down towards his face, surrounding him in smoke as he struggled to swallow the last bit of my cum.

"Good work, Ben. Let's grab a coffee sometime." He pulled back off my dick slowly, apparently amazed by just how many inches had been down his stretched throat. He stood up to look into my eyes again, coughed a bit in an attempt to dislodge some of the cum coating his throat, and replied, "Coffee? Fuck, I want to move in with you."

Ben and I locked eyes and I kissed him hard, trying desperately to thank him for the incredible service he'd given my dick. I reached into his tight pants, tore open his belt, and pulled out his own impressive meat, a heavy 10 inches of steel. I jacked it a few times, and watched his eyes roll back as the orgasm he had clearly been waiting for overcame him, and he shot a thick, creamy load onto my abs. There wasn't nearly as much cum as I'd shot down his throat, but still a respectable load. I scooped it off my abs and brought it to my lips, sucking every drop of the hot seed into my mouth before pulling his face back to mine, swapping his load with him before swallowing it. We collapsed to the bench, me sitting on his lap briefly before he asked, "Stand up for a sec and let me get a good look at your ass." I did as he asked, and looked back as he reached out and grabbed both of my glutes with his big hands, kneading them and admiring the meat they contained before pulling them apart and getting a good look at my tight virgin hole. "Honestly, Jay, this is the most impressive ass I've ever seen, bodybuilders and powerlifters included. What the fuck did you do to build glutes like this?"

I turned back to face him, chuckled, and said, "Squats, lunges, deadlifts... anything to build a bigger ass." Another lie, but he wouldn't have believed the truth. I pulled Ben up from the bench, and said, "That was fucking incredible, but I really do need some clothes. Let's get this show on the road." He quickly zipped his pants back up over his half-hard cock, showing a nice hefty bulge, threw a speedo with a massive pouch at me, and said, "here, stuff yourself into this and those tan chinos and I'll be back in a minute with some more gear." He cracked the door to make sure the coast as clear, and bumped right into his swimmer coworker who apparently had been listening to the scene inside. I peered around Ben's impressive back and noticed the swimmer, wearing a nametag that said Darren, had a full, painfully bulging package in his tight grey pants, complete with a nice wet spot. "Uh, sorry dudes, couldn't help but hear what was going on... fucking unreal. Invite me in, next time." He unzipped his pants and pulled them off to reveal a tight pair of blue knee-length swim jammers, bulging beautifully both in the front and to accommodate his nicely muscled but tight butt, and jogged into the back room where the employee lockers must have been.

"Fucking hot perv," Ben said, turning to me and winking before jogging back off into the store to find me some more tight clothes.

To be continued...

[graniteknighte]

Woof, wow, the story keeps getting hotter and hotter

[Ro20316]

Great story so far. Darren surely wants to join the fun

[cutlerfan]

I'm not an advocate for smoking but this story has excellent details. The descriptions of body parts is wonderful. You paint an easy to imagine scene. Wonderful writing! I strongly hope that you continue this story!

[Mdlftr]

This is amazing for a "first try".  The descriptions of the growth and the pacing are very well done.  You really do a good job describing the mental changes as well.  For fantasy, it's very convincing.  

 

For all the anti-smokers (and I count myself among them), i appreciate their and your positions: it's your fetish and your story.  One interesting point you raised - the narrator is clearly aware of the destructive potential in smoking cigarettes " as the tar coated my lungs."  I wonder if this would be taken to a logical extreme -- that which we love and are erotically stimulated by, will eventually kill us.  

 

Parallels to disease, unprotected sex, running with scissors....!

 

Thanks for taking the time to contribute!

 

Mdlftr 

[musclesmoker]

Body to match the package, part 7

 

It was a successful shopping trip.  Got everything picked out, from spandex workout gear, to some nice tight stretch jeans and t-shirts to accommodate my growing build, to a couple more formal shirts and dress pants.  My favourite of it all was the large-pouched trunks, briefs, jocks, a couple speedos, and a pair of swim jammers with a pouch so big they'd accommodate my junk but probably never be able to be seen in a pool.  Despite Ben's insistence that I get everything very well-fitted, even a bit tight, I bought it all a size up because I knew I'd need some more room to grow...and wouldn't want to need to make another trip to the store too soon.

 

My hefty, pulsing arms had no problem carrying the six large bags as I walked back out to the parking lot.  As I neared the mall doors, my lungs started craving another dose of nicotine, so I set the bags down and grabbed my pack of cigs from inside my short sleeve, crushed slightly between the tight fabric and my left bicep.  I popped a smoke into my lips and lit it, then grabbed the bags again and headed out across the parking lot, hauling hard on it, dangling it from my lips as I flooded my lungs with a good heavy dose of tarry Lucky smoke.  The nic calmed my nerves and I could feel it pulsing through my veins, each drag pushing my addiction to grow bit by bit.  

 

I decided to walk the few blocks to the garage where my poor old Civic was being worked on, hoping it would be ready and that it wouldn't cost me a fortune.  As I walked, I was again conscious of my thick build straining against the fabric of the underarmour, my pecs pushing outward and monstrous muscle ass stretching the shorts out behind me.  My dick was leaking once again, a steady thick flow of precum slowly soaking the yellow UA compression shorts I was still wearing.  I grinned devilishly at every hot guy I met on the sidwalk, as I continued hauling hard on my cig, the nic causing my dick to pulse outward with each step, showing a nice heavy bulge.  One guy in particular caught my eyes.  I recognized him from school.  Lance, I think.  I stared at him up and down as he approached me in front of a pharmacy, his hot wrestler build just a bit smaller and leaner than mine, wearing a tight blue Hollister t-shirt and pair of tan chino shorts that did nothing to conceal his own heavy package, displayed proudly, likely with the help of a cockring by the looks of it.  We made delicious eye contact and he stopped directly in front of me, saying "Sup, Jamie?  Quite a load you got there," referring to the bags, but looking directly down at my bulging member.  "Give me your phone for a sec."  I dropped the bags and grabbed my phone from my pocket, handed it to him, and watched as he created a contact called "Lance ;)".  He handed the phone back to me, said "Gimme a shout sometime you wanna have some fun," slapped my hard ass, and jogged down the street behind me.  "How the fuck does he even know who I am?" I wondered, "and why didn't he comment on my size?"  Just more mystery for the day.

 

When I got to the garage, I didn't see my Civic in the lot so figured it must still be up on the hoist.  I crushed my third spent cig just outside the door and heaved the heavy bags inside, meeting the gaze of Walter, the 50-something owner of the place.  He was wearing his usual mechanic outfit, covered in grease, but nonetheless a hot sight to see, his hefty build stretching the sleeves of his shirt and legs of the dark blue pants.  "Hey Jamie," he said, smiling at me as I walked toward the counter.  He gave me a quick once-over, his eyes locking quickly on my pecs and then again on my bulging junk, as he reached behind him to grab my keys from the wall rack.  "Your truck's all ready, oil change is on the house."  

 

I gave him a puzzled look, and replied, "My truck? You mean the crap Civic, right?"  He chuckled and said, "Dunno about a crap Civic, but your F150's good to go."  I was confused, but decided to just go with it, urged on a bit by the red liquid still present in my veins.  "Here's the keys, just sign this receipt and you're good to go."  I dropped the three bags from my right hand and signed, then grabbed the keys and picked the bags back up, and noticed as he watched my bicep bulge through my red UA shirt under the strain of my purchases.  "Come back again soon, bud... or swing by my place sometime.  Got a few things I could show you about the bed of that truck."  He winked, and I turned back towards the door.  "Jesus, kid, I could bounce a quarter off that rump of yours.  Actually, I could bounce a wrench off it."  I ignored the comment, but again felt a boost of confidence as my glutes flexed with each step, pushing me forward.

 

I got out to the lot and looked around, noticing two F150s -- one older grey one, looking like it needed some bodywork, and another shined up red one... on monster wheels, lifted... a truck that would make any stud drool.  I started walking towards the grey one, figuring there was no way the red one was mine, and pushed the unlock button on the remote in my right hand.  To my surprise, the lights on the red monster flashed in response, and I heard the solid clunk of the four doors unlocking.  "What in the actual fuck is going on?" I wondered, as I grabbed the back door, pulled it open, and breathed in the hot scent of new leather and new car smell mixed with stale smoke.  The smell caused my dick to start leaking even more, and I felt a gob of thick precum slip through the fabric of my shorts and run down my leg, settling on my left foot.  I threw the bags on the back seat, slammed the door, and climbed in the front, noticing that the seat, mirrors, and steering wheel were all perfectly adjusted for my height.  "Honest to Christ, WHAT is in those pills?!" I thought, as I hit the start button and threw the truck into drive.  

 

I pulled out of the lot, and was perfectly comfortable driving the larger-than-life truck, enjoying the steady vibration of the mud tires against the hard pavement, causing my dick to pulse even more, bulging proudly in my lap, snaked all the way down to my knee.  I reached into the centre console and pulled out one of half a dozen packs of Marlboro Reds, apparently my cig of choice, and expertly lit one up, filling my chest and the cabin with smoke as I bathed my lungs in yet another dose of nic and tar.  I sat back in the seat and watched my pecs rise and fall with each drag, my right bicep pulsing through the tight red fabric as I raised the cig to my mouth.  I enjoyed the feeling of looking down on every car I passed, able to stare right into the crotches of the guys I passed.  "Whatever's in those pills, I fucking love it," I thought, as I steered towards home.

 

When I pulled into the driveway, I noticed dad's own beat-up Ram, and pulled in beside it.  "Fuck, how am I gonna get past him or explain this new muscle?" I wondered, as I climbed out of the truck after crushing the spent butt of my second cig into the ashtray of the dash.  I adjusted my package so it was pointing downward again, pulled close to my left quad by the yellow compression shorts, and grabbed the bags of clothes from the back seat.  Just as I opened the front door, I remembered the pack of cigs held tightly against my left bicep, but didn't have time to hide it before I heard "Hey bud, glad you're home. Just got the steaks finished.  Clean yourself up and take a seat."  I gazed at dad as he walked two mammoth plates of steak, potatoes, and yellow beans to the table, a half-spent Lucky dangling from his mouth as he exhaled a powerful drag in front of him.  He glanced up at me, set the food down, and said, "Jesus, boy, I hope those bags are full of new clothes because you're too big now to keep wearing my gear.  Fuckin jealous of the way you're packin on muscle lately.  Must be that double testosterone the doc told us about a few years back.  Your arms look like they're gonna split the spandex of that shirt."  I was dumbfounded, no - shocked - at the comment, dad oblivious to the fact that I had grown into a wrestler/junior bodybuilder just this morning -- after just a couple of pills.  Obviously whatever that red liquid was, it had rewired his brain into thinking that I had already been muscled.  This was gonna be easier than I'd thought.

 

I jogged up the stairs to my bedroom, my veiny quads and thick glutes pushing me upward with each quick step.  I threw the bags on my bed, sauntered into the bathroom, each quad rolling around the other as I walked, and dropped my shorts to take a piss.  I unravelled my long dick from the yellow spandex shots and enjoyed the weight of my heavy growing nuts as they fell towards the toilet, nearly hitting the seat, as my dick started letting out a powerful, thick stream of yellow piss that lasted at least a minute.  When my bladder finally emptied, I stuffed my dick and balls back into the shorts and washed my hands, then walked back down the hall to get a bite of the delicious smelling meal dad had cooked.  

 

As I flew down the stairs, I felt my dick and heavy nuts swinging inside my shorts, gravity doing its job well to pull them down...and down...and down.  I turned the corner to the kitchen and grabbed a seat at the table, my new weight causing the wood of the chair to groan as I picked up a fork and knife and cut into the steak.  "How was your afternoon?" dad asked.  "Hit the gym, I expect?"  I nodded as I stuffed a forkful of steak into my mouth, the sweet, rare meat tasting more delicious than anything I'd ever eaten before.  "Yeah," I said after swallowing, "Had a good leg and ass day," I lied, to which dad replied with a laugh "Jesus, boy, keep having 'good leg and ass days' and you're gonna be busting out of every pair of pants you own."  I choked on my next bite, still surprised that dad seemed aware that I was a muscle hunk, but decided to just roll with it.  "Aren't you gonna have a smoke while you eat?" he asked.  "You always chain hard after the gym, and I know the feeling."  Again, I choked slightly, pretended to just be clearing my throat, and said, "Uh, yeah, guess I was so hungry I forgot I needed a smoke."  He looked up from his food, pulled his lit Lucky from his lips, exhaled a powerful dose of smoke towards me, and chuckled, saying "Forgot?!  Fuck, you're so hooked I can't believe you ever forget anymore."  I couldn't believe it, my dad having always forbade me from smoking, telling me the horror stories of lung cancer, and about how he had tried to quit a dozen times but always failed.  "Stand up for a sec and lose the shirt," he said, "I want to see what kind of chest progress you've been making."  Unable to resist my father's masculine command, and slightly horny at the thought of flexing for my linebacker of a dad, I pushed back from the table and stood up, and started to peel the tight red UA shirt up over my abs, then pecs, then my head, having to pull hard to get the sleeves over my thick biceps.  "Looks like you're definitely a bit bigger than last week," he said, as he stood and walked over to my side of the table.  He reached up and cupped my left pec, then my right, as I involuntarily flexed them.  It felt incredible -- his big calloused hands massaging the meat of my chest.  He grazed my left nipple with a fingernail and I was so surprised that I for some reason started to cough.  He dropped his hands and looked into my eyes, and said, "Son, for the love of god, light a cig and calm those poor lungs of yours," as he returned to his seat, an obvious bulge having formed in his tight, worn Levis.

 

I sat back down, realized how badly I actually was craving another dose of nicotine, and grabbed the pack of Luckies from under my red shirt on the table.  "Uh dad," I said, "hope you don't mind, but I ran outta Reds this morning and had to grab a pack of your cigs from your night stand."  He hauled hard on his own cig, breathed the smoke in deeply, and said, as he exhaled slowly, "No prob - you know where to find em when you need em.  I figured you were probably running low so I grabbed you a carton of Reds today and left em in your top drawer next to those three monster dildos of yours," he said with a grin, focussed again on his own plate of steak.  

 

"Monster dildos?" What the fuck was he talking about?  And since when does he buy me cigs?  And since when does he go in my room?!" I thought.  I anxiously grabbed a cig from the pack and lit it, hauling two full drags deep into my chest, and held it there, letting the tar settle in my lungs as the nic washed over my brain and calmed my nerves once again.  "Uh... thanks, dad," I replied through a thick exhale.  He looked back up at me and said, "Honestly, I don't know how your ass can take those things.  They're thicker than beercans and longer than any dick I've ever been able to take.  But I guess that's what the boys are into nowadays, taking larger than life shit up their butts.  And you've got a damn nice meaty ass to do it."

 

I relaxed back into my chair and subconsciously flexed my glutes, hard as steel against the wood, like two concrete cushions holding me upright.  "Uh, yeah... well... I've been practicing" I said back to him, still unsure about the whole situation.  

 

I finished my plate and stood up, accidentally tripping over my own height as I walked towards the sink, falling against my dad's shoulder.  He reached up and quickly squeezed my oversized donkey cock through my shorts, prompting a thick glob of precum to push out through the fabric.  He pulled my crotch towards his face and licked the precum of my shorts, licking his lips as he savored the taste.  "Boy, you're one horny fucker," he said with a sigh, making no effort to hide the growing bulge in his jeans as he adjusted it.  "Your buddies are damn lucky to have you to play with."

 

I brought my dishes to the sink, my mind swimming in nic and confusion at what has just happened.  I decided to head back up to my room, thanked him for the food, and ran back up the stairs, my dripping cock bulging in my shorts and leading the way.

 

To be continued ... 

[GrowingGeek]

Great hot new chapter, I'm interested to see where this is going!

[graniteknighte]

Any updates for us?

[smkmuscleboi]

I'm looking forward the next part of this story, good job!

[Rugbyjock92]

I love this story and hope it continues. Great work man.