Dylan stretched his neck until his head pancaked on the ceiling and stretched his arms and legs to reach the opposite walls. It felt so. Oh, oh. He couldn't hold it. Snap! His elastic body snapped back burying his head, arms and legs in his torso.
"Mmft!" Said Dylan from deep inside his chest.
Brent howled with laughter.
The torso wobbled back and forth on the wrestling mat until Dylan's head popped out like a turtle from his shell.
"Whoa! Brent, go get Jimmy and find out what's happening to me! Wait, I don't want him - er anyone to see me like this."
Pop. His right leg shot out of his torso, and he flexed it. Being. Out popped his left arm. Then his right arm, and left leg popped out. He struggled to his wobbly legs. Dylan collapsed in a chair with his rubbery legs twisted impossibly in front of him. His hands covered his massive boner.
"Whoa, Dyl, are you okay?" Asked Brent.
"Just go find Jimmy," said Dylan, as he tried to stand, but fell back into the chair.
Brent ran off carrying the duplicate singlet. Dylan was alone in Brent's basement.
When he was alone, Dylan imagined himself naked. It felt so good, and he was naked. He looked at his boner, it was still rock hard. What Brent said about it stretching too stuck in his mind. He started jerking, and damn was it stretchy. Before he knew it, Brent was blowing his load, and he couldn't stop, he kept erupting. Strings of sticky white cum puddled on the floor. A huge pile of cum, and it kept growing. Dylan had never cum that much in his life. It felt so good, but he couldn't stop.