Tom decided to call the ambulance, and had just picked up his phone when he found himself putting it down. Confused, he tried picking it up, before hearing his own voice say out loud "Maybe I don't need to call an ambulance." He thought about his own proposal. Of course he didn't have to call an ambulance, Jace would be over it in the morning. "Yes," he said softly, "he will have to wait." The big guy seemed calmer now, anyway, even with a fever. People had fevers all the time, surely it would pass. Yes. It would pass.
After a second, he said out loud: "No, I don't think it will pa-".
His jaw clamped shut, biting his tongue in the process. He winced from the pain, punching the wall as he felt the taste of blood. Okay. He didn't understand what was going on, but he knew exactly one person who could do strange things like turning a fat zitty eighteen-year-old with a massive inferiority complex and runny light eyes into a hairy, ripped, hung hunk slaying pussy every day. Guillaume. He would have to visit him in the morning, if Guillaume let him.
He woke after a few hours to Jace yelling.
Startled and sleepy, he darted from his small broom closet of a room, through the halls and into Jace's master bedroom. Jace was lying on the bed, writhing on top of the blankets. He didn't seem bigger than when Tom left him, though, and Tom soon saw why Jace was making noise.
He wasn't yelling, he was moaning. Sweating and moaning, eyes looking down between his legs, Jace saw Tom coming into his room.
"Tom! It's tearing! Gawd!" He writhed and closed his eyes, groaning with an even deeper voice than usual.
Tom looked towards Jace's crotch, and saw that no-nylon cotton underwear maybe hadn't been the best idea. The gigantic bulge was straining the boxer-briefs, the waistband lifted several inches above the rock-hard abs. Jace wasn't even hard - the sheer flesh was barely contained. The resulting bulge was something resembling a soccerball, the seams begnning to rip apart.
As Tom watched, transfixed in awe and horror, the seams gave in, the tan flesh bursting through. Jace gave a relieved sigh and moan, as he opened his eyes, looking down on his pride. And what a pride it was.
His fat penis was as long as Tom forearm from the pit of his elbow to his wrist, and as thick around as a baseball bat. His great balls of flesh were each the size of an orange, sitting behind the huge cock in their tan sack, it being streched smooth and sitting directly behind the penis, barely moving. Jace straddled himself onto his arms, his wide eyes fixated onto his monstrous genitalia. "Holy mother of all pussies." He reached out, prodding his penis, as if to verify that it was all him. "This is the granddaddy of all dicks!"
He saw Tom standing there, completely silent, frozen. He sisn't gaze lustily after it, not that Jace would expect it, but rather looked sorrowful. As if Jace had said that they could no longer be friends. Of course, Jace thought, he's sad that he'll have to move out of here.
Because Tom would have to move out. Jace expected that he would have at least two girls in his bedroom each night, and maybe some staying in the spare? He'd figure it out. For now, though, all he could think about was his fantastic monstroustic amazingistic COCK.
He lifted it in one hand, and caressed it, gently squeezing the beast, letting his foreskin glide back and forth. Sweet Lord Pussy, that felt good! Simply touching his dick was as delicious as an orgasm had been with his smaller one, and slowly but surely, the fat sausage stiffened, and grew.
He had gotten pretty good at estimating size in his high school years - though he never had thought about it sexually, it always made him feel good knowing he was the most man in his grade - and he estimated that, goddammit, that was GOOD! He couldn't think, as his member pulsed, becoming iron-levelled erect, and he felt his balls swelling and contracting as he orgasmed and came.
This is worth dying for, he thought, before the world went black.
*****
Tom saw Jace jerking off slowly, with his new, bigger, cooler toy. Not a boy's toy, not a man's toy; this was a god's toy. He tried to talk to Jace while he was at it: "Bro, you can't jack off with that thing, we don't know how it got that way!" Guillaume, he thought. "Jace, dude! Stop!" It was like talking to a rock. A tall, superhumanly muscled, angelically beautiful, divinely hung rock. He watched as Jace moaned deeper and deeper, louder and louder, his head falling backwards and his eyes rolloing back into his head as he came. And he came.
The first volley of thick, white sperm torrented out of Jace's oversized limb, splashing against the wide glass windows facing the ocean, the contents like that of a bucket of milk. The second also hit the windows, slightly lower, and the next nine (!) volleys of cum hit the floor, the produce of each eventually diminishing to that of a glass of water. The huge rod pumped still, sperm oozing out of its slit, as it pulsed, softening to its massive size.
Tom was awestruck. What he had witnessed was the weirdest experience of his lifetime, he had no doubt about it, because even with that gigantically sized package, no one - NO ONE - should be able to shoot this amount of... matter. He just stared at the windows, at the pool that was gathering where they met the floor, at the trail that went on the stone floor from the windows, in a wide line to the bed, and from the edge of the bed between two muscled, ripped thighs, leading to a fat sausage that lay on drenched bedsheets. He stood for what seemed like minutes, not capable of coherent thought, before he realised that Jace lay there unconscious.
Hurrying to his big bud's side, Tom tried to wake up Jace, to no success. I have to wake him up, he thought, just so that he can walk himself. I can't lift him.
It was true. Even though Jace hadn't grown much bigger since yesterday, he was a lot heavier, inexplicably enough. Jace wasn't much bigger himself, but his muscles had swollen and taken their toll at his fat. He had a minimal coating of fat on his muscles - just enough that it wasn't off-putting. His pecs had to be what, five inches thick? Six? He was in possession of what appeared to be a ten-pack, and his wide shoulders tapered down in a broad V to his narrow hips. Further down his ass was two globes of bronze tan, and his massive thighs were each wider than the average woman at the parties they attended. Perfect calves lead down to large feet, though they did seem a bit small for the body... had they shrunk? No, Tom realised. Jace had gotten taller. He had to be six and a half foot now, his shoulders three and a half foot wide.
Tom, looking at the god passed out beneath him, drool seeping out of Jace's mouth, one hand reaching towards his massive genitalia still dripping with sperm, the other laying on top of his right pec, had never felt so jealous in his life. The thought that had hit him earlier whispered seductively. He began to think.
*****
Jace woke suddenly, with the feeling of being tossed into a lake in winter. Tom stood over him with a bucket, pouring its contents - freezing cold water - on top of him. "What the fuck?!" he groaned, starting up in bed, rubbing his eyes. Tom just walked out of the room. His bedroom. The bedroom in which he started each day, looking out of the wide windows onto the se- what the hell was that that at the windows?
Then the events before his blackout came back to him. He looked down on his body. He could have come right then, had he not just received a cold shower. His body was a physical splendour. His muscles were divine, his deep, musical voice angelic, and his cock...
He looked at his boy. His cock lay soft between his legs, a huge fat sausage, its base resting upon two huge balls each the size of an orange, the outer half resting on the wet bedsheets. It was gorgeous. He noticed that he was wearing what seemed to be the tattered remains of his white boxer-briefs - he remembered how his big boy had exploded through them and torn them apart. "No one stands in your way," he told his boy with his new, melodical bass voice. Standing up, he hit his head on the chandelier in the middle of the room. After a few moments of confusion, he realised that he had grown in more than just muscle and junk. Speaking of growth... He looked towards his bathroom.
After looking through the bathroom drawer, he found what he was looking for.
"Oui, vous may come zis afternoon," Guillaume's squeaky voice said in the other end. "Great," Tom responded, before he hung up. It seemed that Guillaume was finished with his work.
"TOM! Bro, you're never gonna believe this!" Jace came thundering into the kitchen, actually bothering to put on clothes for a change - even if it were just a bathrobe that nowdid not fit his shoulders or arms - the seams were torn around his arms and around his shoulders.
"What am I not gonna believe, bro?" Tom said, almost casually. I won't stare at him, Tom thought to himself, it will only make me feel worse.
"My size! My, my dick I mean. My huge, fat cock!" The excitement in Jace's voice could have come from a thirteen-year-old telling everyone about how he had fucked a highschool girl last night, but unlike most times, Jace had indeed fucked a highschool girl at age thirteen, and he had a gigantic cock. "Let's hear it, stud." Tom braced himself.
"Ehrm," Jace coughed, trying to sound serious, "In flaccid state, Jason Ericsson Junior, at nine and a half long and ten around!" Tom did not make a sound. "And, in steel-hard, rock solid blood pumping erect state, Jason Ericsson Junior, at thirteen inches long and eleven and a half around!"
Tom only thought one thing. I'll do it.