Matt took out his cellphone. He was tempted to take dick-pics of his equine package, right then and there. The thought alone of sending them to Wayne, wondering what he would think... But waiting to surprise him in person would be worth the wait. The pure, unadulterated ecstasy that would follow...
He recognized that his thoughts were clouded and greedy with sex and lust. But he shrugged it off; it should’ve been criminal to allow such power in a simple device. This was a mere program that someone (like him) could abuse for power, let alone self-pleasure. The rumors were not over-exaggerating one bit about this thing, and you can’t say that about everything you find online!
Matt began to plan the rest of his evening. First, he texted Wayne that he wanted to see him at his apartment tonight in a few hours for a ‘surprise’. Nothing less than a minute later, he got a confirmed ‘Yes’ with a winky-face emoji. They both knew each other well enough that the inferred response was understood: this was more than just ‘hanging out’.
He smiled. Impure thoughts returned, and his fleshy horse meat began to salute for service.
'Damn. I can’t tame this thing at all… better get prepared…'
He shuffled into the bathroom and through the shower stall, his balls and cock swinging to and fro. He washed his face, then his hands, and lowered his boxers to the floor.
Matt exhaled. It was amazing. He had fallen in love with his dick all over again. His neck was starting to ache because he kept looking down at it. He just couldn’t get over it, and who in their right mind could? Thoughts ran amok in his head: part of him still stupefied with the understanding that --this-- was his real dick and balls; part incredulous at how natural and real it felt; another part doing his best to keep calm and collected. For when Wayne arrived, he’d no doubt be at risk of letting go immediately.
There was so much weight to them, so much girth and virility. Part of the reality modification must’ve helped to satiate his memory, because a part of him struggled to remember exactly what it was like to be without.
It was… incredible. Everything about this was the best.
As he awoke from the daydream, he was writhing it about, holding it with both hands, and unloading on the shower walls. So much for staying clean, he thought. It took a few more minutes of showering (and managing the thick mess) before he was fully clean and ready again.
Waddling back to the bedroom, he looked for a pleasant shirt and the baggiest pair of boxers he could find. That’s when he noticed that his entire wardrobe of boxer briefs were much, much… much wider than he remembered them being... He didn’t even struggle to put them on. These weren’t his new boxers, did they get stretched out in the wash? Whether it made sense was still up for debate when he heard a clicking sound at his front door.
It was Wayne! He didn’t get a text before-hand. He wasn’t ready!
But love never waits. The door opened.
“Heyyyyy… mister Matty, where are ye?”
Matt emerged from his back bedroom, slipping on a shirt and trying to keep his composure.
“Y-you’re early!”
“Yeah, a little bit. No big deal, hopefully?”
He felt it twitch. Matt quickly brushed off the feeling; he ran up and gave him a kiss. He was conscious not to get too close, as he didn’t want to give anything away. “No, ‘course not. Missed you a lot.”
“Me too!”
Matt sensed Wayne leaning in for another long, intimate kiss. But if he felt him up, he might discover…
“H-hold up! I wanna…”
“Yeah?”
He backed up a couple steps, looking around at nothing but as though someone else was watching them. This wasn’t how he planned it to go!
Okay, he’d have to improvise. “I wanna... well, you know how… when you say to me sometimes that I’m hung like a horse?”
Wayne chuckled. “Right. Aren’t we all?”
“Okay, well... “ he started, grabbing the waistband of his shorts. “There’s something I want to show you, babe...”
He yanked them down, and they fell to the floor. And then he grabbed his navy boxers with his right hand and slipped them down. And out it flopped: semi-engorged, maybe sixteen inches, thick as a beer can and packaged with orange-sized balls. They were lightly pressing against the fabric, attempting to escape the cage in which they were held. The inconspicuously large rod he began to sport for his boyfriend: he was hung like a horse.
And in those first few moments, Wayne stood there motionless, and it was beautiful.. Then he said, in a rather sultry voice...
“I see someone’s happy to see me.”
Matt’s anxiousness was broken by Wayne pushing against Matt, walking him backwards into his bedroom and down to the front of his bed. He anticipated possibly fear or disgust, but it was going surprisingly well, and this unexpected reaction was really horning him up.
“... and I’m getting pretty damn happy to see you too.”
But then Wayne took off his pants and boxers.
And out *his* flopped.
…
All sixteen inches of horse dick.
Matt’s breath escaped his throat. He stared wide-eyed...
Yes. It looked just like a horse dick. It looked just like his dick. Balls, sheath, everything. It was a horse dick and balls. Just… like his.
Wayne went in to kiss him, but Matt couldn't even open his mouth, so he just kind of took it. He began to notice Matt’s lack of engagement and backed off after a couple of seconds.
“... What's wrong?”
Matt continued to stare intensely at his own cock, and back up at him.
“Why are you looking at me weird like that… ?” Wayne asked.
“Wh… how did you…” Matt stammered.
“... huh?”
“How did you also... get your… ?!”
Wayne blinked. “I don’t know what you’re asking. Just say it.”
“...”
“Just say whatever it is, I won't get mad!!”
“You have a … a horse cock!”
Wayne looked at Matt incredulously, like this was a half-baked joke and the punch line was still coming.
“I… don’t know if that’s a compliment or not, but thanks.”
He stood up from the bed, knocking Wayne off-stance.
“You… wha...”
Matt was pushing past impulsive sexual thoughts in his mind, but ultimately failing. Every passing moment made him hornier. Forget about his own sexual growth; Wayne’s cock was somehow also a horse cock and he didn’t notice or care and it was the most intense sexual fantasy shrouded in shock therapy he could ever ask for. He was yearning for it.
“Babe, is this a really bad joke or--”
Matt grabbed Wayne’s shoulder, pulled his shirt off from the collar, and pushed him down onto the bed, climbing over him as they scrambled around the top of his bed sheets. The landing was rough but so was his need to kiss him, to bring him in, to feel the impressive rod pressed up against his skin, against his own… to have his body with him and near him.
As they made out, Matt got lost in his own ecstasy. They usually shared roles in bed but tonight it was so mindlessly unplanned and inspired that he wasn't even thinking straight. He just wanted to be connected to him, to be touched, to feel the ample warmth. That warmth spread around the room, swirling and sinking over them, making them sweat intensely. Wayne loved it, too, finding time to rip off whatever clothing was left and toss it aside.
Who knew how long they were at it, but there was a moment of release; Matt’s back arched and lurched; instinctive actions took over his entire body and he just let himself go. It lasted an eternity. Then he collapsed into bed, exhausted but happy, and that was the last thing Matt remembered happening before drifting to sleep.