Date: Wed, 06 Sep 2023 14:59:49 +0000 From: troythewriter Subject: Boy with the sexy neck: part 2 _________ This is the next chapter in the story of Eric and Tim. There is more story and less sex this time, please stay tuned for future chapters. As always, all characters and places are completely fictitious. I do hope you enjoy- please provide any feedback to troythewriter@proton.me. _____________ It is just getting dark outside. We cleaned ourselves up, and it was that awkward time after you've met and fucked and you weren't quite sure what to say to each other. We are both still naked. Tim has returned to his normal flaccid state but I am still heavy, causing my dick to swing pendulously when I walked or moved. "So.... I guess we should...." "Umm, yeah... I guess I should get going, I don't want Sebastian to get worried and call the cops or something" he says. "He's really protective of you, isn't he? I wish I'd had a friend like that when I was a freshman. Heck, I wish I had friend like that now." I recalled Sebastian's protective glare back at the bar, like he was guessing just how big/what kind of asshole I was likely to be, and whether he should entrust me with his best friend. "Look, Tim, this was so completely amazing. YOU are completely amazing. I don't want this to be a one-time thing. If that's what YOU want, of course..." I was trying not to gush, but I guess mind blowing orgasms tend to do that to me. He looked down to floor for a bit, thinking. "We'll see. It's going to have to be a minute before I can do- well, THAT- again any time soon", nodding in the direction of the bedroom. I blushed a little at that. "You're OK, right?" "No damage but I'm gonna be sore whenever I try to sit down tomorrow." Ok, awkward. What do you say after that? How do you just blurt out 'Im sorry my dick was so big and fat that it tore up your asshole.' "I told you, no one has ever really done that for me before. I wasn't sure it would ever really happen. It was even better that I could have hoped for." "Hmmm. Wow. I guess you must have dated some real pussies then." He looked at me sideways, about to speak some kind of embarrassing truth. "You have the biggest dick I've ever seen in real life. I'm amazed you don't have girls and guys both stalking you for a crack at it. " That made me blush all over again, but also left me dumbstruck. This kid was much less innocent than I had expected. "Jesus, Tim! I'm just not like that! I'm usually just embarrassed by it. Usually it's just in the way." He gives me that sideways look again, grins, and lets out a snicker which he immediate tries to suppress. "I bet it does. God, how do you even walk around without knocking over the lamp!" This cracks him up a little and he doesn't even pretend not to laugh. Slightly offended, I say "hey, don't treat me like a freak! I'm really self conscious about it." I cover myself with my hands as best I am able and turn away slightly. Look, I know it's big, but I've never really known how to feel about the fact. Growing up, I got teased in the showers after gym class. In college, I avoided most sports that could potentially involve nudity or revealing clothing. Golf, mostly. Consequently, my anxiety over other people's possible reaction to my size fed upon itself until I basically became a celibate. More or less, until today. He could see I was genuinely dismayed. "Oh shit, Eric, man don't be like that. If I had a package like that, the whole world would know about it and I'd be out there using it." He turned me back to face him, and moved my hands away from my crotch. He lifted my dick up and draped it over the back of his hand, dropping it with a slight slap against his skin. It completely covered his hand and hung over by at least a couple of inches. "You look so huge compared to my hand." "You have pretty small hands...." "Not the point, silly. Wow, I still can't believe I got that whole thing inside of me" he says as much to himself as to me. His manipulations were starting to have an effect on both of us, and I was chubbing up. He shook off the moment and said "Look, I really do have to get going. I've got Econ homework due Monday, and this was not on my schedule." He goes to the living room and gathers his clothes, dressing quickly. I find my boxers and cover myself as well. I said, "can I give you my phone number? Just in case you want to get in touch?" "Yeah, please do. Here, just put it straight in my phone. " I enter the info, and as I was doing so a text message popped up. It was from Sebastian. "Bitch let me know u r still alive!" I handed back the phone and Tim smiled as he read the message. "Yeah, he's kind of protective I guess. Look, I'll text you. Friend me on Insta? Okay, bye!" With that he gives me a peck on the cheek- WTF?!- and walks out the door. I watch him through the window, and he is clearly grinning as he types out his reply to Sebastian. There is an extra something to his walk that I hadn't noticed when following him earlier today- I realized he is skipping. My head is buzzing with a million thoughts at once. I didn't know quite what to make of this. I think this guy, 7 years my junior, just gave me a serious lesson in sex. More than that, he gave me permission to be myself without embarrassment. I clean up the kitchen, change the sheets, do laundry, and generally distract myself for a few hours until it's dark. I totally forget about eating, and go to bed early hoping to just get a few hours of oblivion during which I didn't have to think about anything. I am asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. **************** I wake early the next morning. Obviously, I have morning wood. I think again about Tim, and remember the feeling of my cock- the great big one now in my right hand- filling him up and stretching him wide open. I find my lube in the nightstand, get a good glob in my hand, and proceeded to use it to stroke out a quick one. I close my eyes and remember the look on Tim's face when he first got me all the way inside of him: determination, fear, pain, triumph. I suddenly feel proud that I was the object of such feeling. I feel powerful all over again. That does it for me, and I shoot my load into my left hand. I take a shower and get things to deflate a little, then decide to go for a run. Now, I love to run, but I usually do it after dark. Given my "situation," I prefer the cover of night when wearing running shorts. Today, however, was a new day. I pull on a jock strap, nylon running shorts, tank top, shoes and sunglasses, and head out. It seemed especially nice today, and I started laying down 8 minute miles. I head over to the track on campus, which is part of my 5 mile loop. The men's intramural soccer team was working out, and I was checking out the hot bodies, surreptitiously I hope. I did notice a couple of heads glance my way, and more than one double take. Uh oh- suddenly self conscious again. I check myself- my crotch was about as normal as I ever get, so I said to myself fuck it- let 'em look if they want. In fact, I decide to just take a break and stretch, right there on the track straightaway. Quad stretches, shoulder stretches, lunging stretches. Check, feels good. Standing up out of my last lunge, I look over and catch one guy's eye. He gives me a lingering smirk then looks away. It seems like I recognize him- one of my concrete lab students? Around the dorms and campus? What to make of that look? He is attractive in that latin soccer player way- floppy black hair and muscular thighs. In any event, I resume my run and head home. Second shower of the day and it's only 9:00 am. Boxers and cargo pants again with shirt tails outs. Old habits die hard, I guess. It was a pretty routine Sunday morning and I get lost in working on my thesis. I am pulled back to reality when a I get a text message from Tim. "What r u doing 2nite? Want 2 hang out?" I immediately thrill at the prospect of seeing Tim again, but I was surprised he messaged me so soon. "I'm free after about four o'clock. What's up?" "Sebbie and the guys want to get to know you better. They thought you were cool at the bar the other day." So the friends from the Twinkie Four Pack want to hang out with me? I start imagining what Tim told them about last night, and started a mental filmstrip of where this could go. "What did you have in mind?" I reply. "How about that Mexican place where they don't card? Cheap burritos and margaritas sounds good for dinner." Burrito Jalisco was a popular campus spot, and it was just a few blocks from my apartment. They were notoriously lax enforcing the drinking age, and the quantity of food per dollar was very high. Not to say the quality was great, earning it the nickname `Burrito Hell'. This was feeling off, but I was obsessed with seeing Tim's neck again- and maybe more. "OK, sure. How does 6:00 sound?" "Perfect! C U there!" I hate the shorthand people use for text messages. Is it really that hard to type four more letters? But I recognized I was sounding like the old man yelling at the kids to get off his lawn at this point, so I swallowed my contempt and replied "Cool! C U at Burrito Hell" "Would it be cool if we stopped at your place after?" OK, this definitely was sounding off. But whatever this was, I wouldn't be the one to pull the plug. "No problem! I'll clean the place up and pick up more beer :-)" "Cool!" And with that the date was set. I had already cleaned, but there was still laundry to fold, and the shared laundry facility gets busy on Sundays. Shit- who knew silicone lube stained sheets like that! (But also, soooo worth it!) Then I started obsessing about what to wear. I wanted to keep it cool and not seem like I was trying too hard, but Tim's words about how if he were me, the whole world would know and he'd be out there using it. Could I be that person? What would it be like not caring what people thought? I remembered the teasing from high school, but that was more than 10 years ago. I was a grown ass man. Time to get over yourself Eric! I have this one pair of jeans that I hardly ever wear. They're tight. I remembered the look that soccer player shot me when I was running- I admit to myself I liked the feeling of being admired. Maybe I could go bold tonight, and give the boys some of the show I think they're looking for. I pull on a clean jock strap then pack myself into my jeans. I look in the mirror and just laugh. NO way I can go out like this! I'm just not that bold (yet). But I compromise: I keep the jock strap on but find a looser fitting pair of jeans. I like the effect. My bulge is obvious without seeming like I'm trying. I add a tight fitting vintage concert tee shirt and cowboy boots to complete the outfit. I'm proud of the results. I decide to try the look out in public, so I run to the corner store to buy more beer. No one points and laughs or runs away in fear, so I figure I must at least be passable. Standing at the beer cooler considering what the Twinkie Four Pack might like, I hear the bell over the door jingle. I catch him out of the corner of my eye- I think it's the soccer player from earlier today. Time to see if I imagined what I saw earlier was real. "Hey there- you were out playing soccer this morning right? I knew you looked familiar- you must also live around here? Can I ask your advice? I'm having company over later and I'm not sure what kind of beer to get. What do you like?" "Are your guests men or women? Men like dark beer, women like light beer." He has a heavy Spanish accent to go with his dark hair and full eyebrows. "They're a group of young men. I think I'll go with the Stella. They don't seem like the dark beer kind of crew." "Aye, que bastardo fortunato! Sounds like a fun party. Maybe you get to play with el polla mostruosa, eh?" He grins, looks at my crotch and waggles his abundant eyebrows in a knowing way. I have just enough Spanish to be completely embarrassed at this point. But I realize I don't know this guy other than the few knowing looks we exchanged earlier this morning. Time to try out my new (fake) confidence. "Maybe" I reply, "we'll see if the beer works its magic!" We laugh together at this as we head to the checkout counter. As we make our way outside and head off in different directions he says "Hasta luego amigo, y buena suerte! Maybe we can get our own beers some time and you can tell me about your little fiesta!" That felt good. Another gay guy, close to my own age, and someone who sees me, who understands my "situation" and encourages me without judgement. I should have gotten his phone number- I'll have to watch out for him in the `hood. I head home, install the beer in the fridge, and head out to the restaurant on foot. I wonder again what these guys are up to, where I want them to go, and what I want from Tim? Was yesterday just a great hookup, or do I want more? I'm not sure I'd say no to a fuck buddy at this point, but what does he want? I arrive before the others. I've been to this place plenty over my 7 years of school, and I am at least familiar with most of the staff. They smile and waive and the hostess flirts a bit. I get us a table for five and order a beer, chips and guacamole while I wait. The Four Pack walk in and find me in the back. They sit down, all grins and laughs. Tim is smiling also but a bit less exuberant. "Hi guys, how's it going?" I ask. "I started without you- what do you want?" I wave over the server, a hispanic guy in his mid 20's. "Hola, welcome to Burrito Jalisco! What can I get you gentlemen?" They all want margaritas, which are widely known to be made with Everclear and just a touch of tequila for flavor. This might be fun to watch as their inhibitions fall away. "So, I was surprised when Tim said you wanted to get together. I'm glad to have a chance to get to know his friends better." "Well he said you were a really nice guy" added, Steve. There were a knowing smirk among them, and the color on Tim's sexy neck and cheeks began to rise. "So I take it Tim gave all you a full de-brief," fully intending the pun and earning a guffaw from the boys. Sebastian confirmed. "Yes, Tim can't keep a secret from us. Especially not a really big one!" More guffaws from Michael and Steve, and Tim looks like he wants to crawl under the table. The waiter conveniently returns with drinks (no ID required), giving everyone a chance to compose themselves. We place our food orders, and enter an awkward silence. I try to make small talk, asking more about their classes, where they're from, thus usual get-to-know-you stuff. I learn that Sebastian is joining the Theatre program, which I find fascinating. "Do you want to be an actor? I bet you'd be great Sebastian." "Oh god no. Even if I could act worth a damn, I have no interest in submitting myself to that kind of public scrutiny. I want to go into makeup and special effects. Nobody cares what you look like behind the scenes." The margaritas are drained quickly. Tim is quiet, but I make discreet eye contact with him across the table and shoot him a smile. He smiles and looks down at his hands. Something is definitely up here. "So you guys are all roommates, right? How did the University end up putting four cute gay guys in the same dorm, much less the same room?" The group looks to Tim who answers for the group. "We all put on our housing questionnaire that we only wanted to room with other gay guys, and we had enough other things in common that they matched us up in a quad. Me and Sebbie in one room, and Mike and Steve in the other. It's been great, and after we got to know each other we came to find that we actually have more in common than we thought." He left that last cryptic comment hanging. The food arrives and we all tuck in. I, of course, demolish my steak burrito, but nobody else can finish more than half their meal before calling it quits. We settle up the check and head back to my place. The boys are clearly feeling the effects of their alcohol as we step inside. "I have beer if you'd like. Stella OK?" I pass the bottles around and wait for the next shoe to drop. Clearly, Sebastian had been nominated spokesman. "This is a cool place, Eric. It must be great to have your own place and complete freedom here." "Thanks Sebastian- yeah, it's kind of nice to have my own place, but let's be honest, this place is kind of a dump. I'm a poor grad student and most of the furniture is second hand junk." We all look around and acknowledge what is objectively true. "OK guys, I have a sneaking feeling you didn't just want to hang out and talk about interior design. Want to let me in on the plan?" The guys look at each other, and Tim nods at Sebastian to proceed. "You're right, we have some... ulterior motives tonight. So we have a competition going, and we're going to need you help us decide if we've found a winner. At the beginning of the year, we got a little tipsy and started talking about our prior sexual experiences. I doubt you will be astonished to find we're all committed bottoms. We started comparing the guys we'd been with, and from there it turned into a competition of who had been with the guy with the biggest dick. It clearly could not be objectively verified, so we decided that at the end of the semester, the one who had bottomed for the guy with the biggest dick would be declared the winner and given bragging rights, a tiara, and a sash declaring "Size Queen." I can't help myself and bust into hysterical laughter. "This morning, Tim claimed that he'd already won the competition and we should simply declare him the winner. He provided a very GRAPHIC description to support his claim. Clearly, this controversial claim needs to be verified, which is where you come in." I try to stop laughing and pull myself together enough to ask "so what exactly did you have in mind?" "Well clearly we all need to see your dick. Preferably fully erect." Whoa, holy shit! He just put that out there! Putting on my serious face, I say "Might I ask, what is the current standard against which I am to be compared? I want to make sure I at least have a fighting chance to validate Tim's claim." I look over at Tim, who seems to be careening between complete mortification and the taste of victory. He can't hold eye contact but has a sheepish grin he weakly tries to hide. "The only verified contender measured just shy of eight inches long and five and half inches around." "So, you measured him? And he let you?" I ask. "Quite frankly he couldn't wait to show us- he almost insisted we measure him. He was a bit of an exhibitionist. Straight frat boys may actually be more cock-obsessed than this pervy lot." "I'm so going to win!" Tim chortles. I find this situation absurd, but I am just shocked enough that I think I might go through with it. But now I'm second guessing Tim's motivations. Does he want me for more than my dick, and winning his silly game? And what do I want from him? Time for a bit of a test, maybe combined with a bit of fun. Let's see how serious Timmy is about his competition. "OK Tim, I think you need to earn your victory. Come over here convince the guys you were telling the truth." Tim cycles through fear, shame, and embarrassment. His throat and face are turning a lovely shade of scarlet. "Come on guys, just look at that fucking bulge! He's huge!" he protests. The group is quiet, clearly unmoved by his logic. "What, you want me to pull it out?" "Yeah, pull it out and make it hard. I mean, the claim has to be verified, right Sebbie?" Sebastian pulls a wicked grin and plays along. "Tim, I think it's only fair. I mean the story you told was quite a whopper." Again, pun intended, with all the guys laughing at Tim's discomfort (including me). Tim slugs his beer and crawls over to me on his knees. He starts rubbing my crotch and I start plumping up. My bulge expands and it's getting uncomfortable. I've never had an audience for my boner before, but I think I have a group of connoisseurs to impress. Tim proceeds to remove my cowboy boots, then unbuttons my fly. I can tell the boys are enjoying the show, and I am enjoy watching Tim. I lace my fingers behind my head and allow him to do all the work. He opens the fly and pulls down my jeans, and sees my jockstrap underneath. He looks up at me mildly shocked- he clearly expected boxers. I raise my butt so he can continue pulling down my jeans, and with some effort he finally gets them off. I spread my legs for everyone to get a good view. The pouch of the jockstrap is straining and no longer completely covering my scrotum. "Holy shit, he wasn't kidding" exclaims Steve. "That a monster." "So fucking hot!" exclaims Michael. Sebastian is quiet but does not blink while staring at me and Tim. Tim strokes my shaft through the fabric, then chews on my cock. That accelerates the blood flow and I'm hardening rapidly. "You might want to let it out at this point, Tim. It's starting to hurt." He pulls down the waistband of the jock strap, slowly revealing my entire length. He gets to the tip of my rising member, then lifts the fabric away to release it. It jumps up and slaps my belly with a heavy *smack*. No longer sequestered in their prison, my balls sag down under their own weight. I give a sigh of relief and look at Tim. He is staring at my penis again like he did yesterday, studying it. I look over at the others, who are also transfixed. "Well, what do you think. Does Tim win?" I ask Sebastian clears his throat and reaches into his pocket, retrieving a small tape measure. "Tim, will you do the honors?" Tim catches the tossed tape measure and asks me "can I?" "Go ahead- I've never done it." He bends my dick forward a bit and stretches the tape along the top of the shaft until it reaches just past the tip. He notes the result mentally, then proceeds to wrap it around my shaft just behind the head, where I am widest. "Ten and half inches long and six and three quarters inches around" he declares. Michael gives a low whistle. "Eric, did Tim really take all of that?" He asks me. I reach over to Tim and grasp him behind his beautiful neck. I pull him in for a kiss before I say "yeah, he had all of it inside him. It was the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen. He made me cum like a cannon." Tim makes eye contact again and smiles. He drops his head as I knead the back of his neck, acknowledging the particular erogenous zone I was first so smitten by. "So does that settle it guys? Does Tim win your little contest?" The group nods but they're quiet. I look at the guys and notice they are all sporting their own little bulges in their chino shorts. I need to mess with them at this point. What they did is not OK, although I actually kind of enjoyed it. "I don't know. It only seems fair that now you've seen mine I get to see yours. Maybe I Tim should take your pants down too!" That gets their attention and suddenly they all have homework they need to finish, Tim included. I stand, and act like it's the most natural thing in the world to be naked from the waist down and half hard in nothing but a Nirvana tee shirt. "Oh no, leaving so soon? How are we going to get to know each other better! Why don't you stay for just one more beer!" I plead in my most insincere voice. "No? Well OK, maybe next time" I pout. I pull on a pair of basketball shorts and my bulge seems even bigger, as the nylon tent I'm pitching is exaggerated by the extra fabric. I see them out, and grab Tim's hand to hold him back for a quick word. "Congratulations Mr. Size Queen!" I say in a low voice. "I'm glad you won. I'm wondering if you'd like to stay over and we could celebrate your victory?" There is both challenge and lust in my question. Tim reaches down and grabs my fat dick through the fabric. He clearly is thinking about it seriously, which gives me about two thirds of the answer I'm looking for. He looks me in the eye, but can't hold it. "Fuck you're hot Eric. I'd ride that dick all the time if I could, but I can barely walk today. Maybe another time? I really do need to finish that Econ homework." I lean in for a kiss and he reciprocates, causing the tent between us to grow even larger. I have my answer, so I release him to his friends. "Ok, go be a good student and let me know when you'd like to get together again." I smile and send him away, and he smiles as he walks backwards towards his friends. He turns, and see his beautiful, sexy, pervy neck again as he rejoins his friends.