The chores in the kitchen stained Timothy’s clothes. And not to mention, he’s sweating like a hog in the heat inside the caravan. His pits are crying and when he raised to smell them, Timothy irked at the smell. He knew it’s time for a bath.
Despite having only a floor on the outside, the caravan consists of multiple floors and even more rooms. Timothy searched for the bathroom. In his search, he found the wardrobe first than the bathroom itself. The wardrobe is no bigger than a two-story clothing store - and it smells like one too. The clothes are arranged depending on gender and what type of clothes they are. Timothy grabbed a loose green T-shirt and equally loose shorts to combat this summer heat. He didn’t forget to grab a piece of boxers that he thinks would fit snuggly in his groin. Once done, he went outside on his search for the bathroom.
It took him another three minutes of checking every door in the third-floor hallway. Some rooms were locked and others don’t even have doors at all. But at last, he found a white door with a frosted glass window. He pushed the brass handle and found the bathroom.
Calling it a bathroom would be an understatement. It’s more of a bathhouse with a large square showerhead at the ceiling. Amidst the growing mist, Timothy found the knob that controls the water pressure. He looked for another knob that controlled the temperature but his search was for naught. Nevertheless, he turned on the only knob, and out came the water in the ceiling. Water fell like rain. Timothy reached in and the water was immediately in a temperature that his current body likes. With that did and done, he undressed and dove in at the shower.
A pristine glass decorates the eastern wall. It’s a magical thing. Water droplets don’t stick in the surface nor do any glass fogs form. Timothy could see himself, bare naked, filled with life unlike the first look in the warehouse. There are remnants - figments of memories that seemed he’s done this before. This is his face but he knew it’s not. His eyes were a great contrast to his body. Blue, icy and fresh - you’d feel safe under its watchful gaze. Timothy could not help but smile at the predicament he’s gotten into. One day he’s running for his life, the other he’s bathing in a body unlike his own.
On the northern end of the room lies a cabinet of porcelain where Pickle keeps his bathroom essential. He nabbed a dollop of liquid soap and lathered it all over his skin. His fingers caressed like silk on a trail of bubbles. His bare torso shone as his hands passed through it on the way to soaping his face. Timothy remembered to clean behind his ear and the sides of his nose. He cusped his arms scrubbed it from shoulder blades to hands and did the same on the other. His arms sang a different tune than what he was used to. They are a little bit longer with a bit more flesh in it. There are no scars from scrounging in the trash for food. They are unblemished like the rest of his body, except for the peppercorn of freckles that adorned his cheeks.
Was it the eyes that made Timothy choose this husk? Or was it the freckles or the somewhat familiar look of his body? No. Timothy chose this body because of his happy aura surrounding his look. It’s not a concrete description. More like a personal truth he convinced himself. An illusion that told him this body smiled despite the blank sullen look. Or how he looked active and inviting among the array of blank bodies with a similar look. He chose this body because of what it is. And now, he’s got the privilege of controlling it from top to bottom.
While Timothy was busy scrubbing away, his eyes did not falter on the rod that dangled between his legs. It’s a monstrosity by his standard, but Timothy knew there are dicks thrice bigger than this. Nonetheless, he’s amused and equally annoyed at the weight his groin is giving him. He grabbed the shaft and pulled the uncircumcised skin - revealing a surprisingly sensitive tip that felt tickled by the patter of the shower. Timothy was taken aback that he unfurled the flesh to its previous state. His heartbeat spiked and excitement washed over him. A thought brewed on his head. A naughty thought that leads him to more thoughts of guilt and naughty fun.
It’s okay to do it right? No one would notice. Unless Pickle has some sort of mind-reading powers. And besides, why should he feel guilt in the first place? He has this body and he could do anything he wants, masturbation included. There’s no shame in this.
With a smirk, Timothy peeled back his 7-inch dick once more, revealing a welcome pink tip that sent tingles every time drops touched it. Timothy huffed. He looked at his reflection - a pale white boy that grows pinker and harder the more he looked at himself. It’s undeniable. He’s attracted to himself.
With one hand, Timothy fondled with his nipples. They are as sensitive as the tip that he’s currently caressing with his thumb. He played on them between his index and thumb, where it sent deep tantalizing jolts within his body. His palm rested on his shaft and began to pump his dick slowly. Up and down, deep and intimated. His dick grew harder and extended half an inch. It gave a slight curve, a quality not previously with his previous dick. He fumbled because of the said curve and the added length of his dick that has now grown over 8-inch and he thought he’s reached his limit. But the more Timothy jerked off the more it continued to grow.
As for his other hand, he ditched the nipples to help with his dick. He can’t masturbate with only one hand anymore. He needs all the fingers grasping every inch of his meat as he came closer and closer to that sweet release.
Timothy’s heartbeat ramped up. His spine shook as electricity coursed through it. Sparks flew off at the surface of his skin, racking his head in a cloud of euphoria intensified by the pitter-patter of the water coursing through the crevices of his skin. Pressure bellowed on his groin and his dams could not hold on for any longer. He grits his teeth, trying to hold on to that deep unsaturated sensation, but he failed nonetheless. He opened his mouth in an O and an E and out came
“Hnngggg… Oaaaaahhhh…” He moaned, his voice reverberating around the bathroom. He couldn’t still get used to the voice. It’s foreign-sounding but he knows it’s his. Nevertheless, hearing that trailing moan sounded like it came from another. It filled Timothy with glee that he could moan like this. He moaned another and another, gritting as the pressure continued to build on his dick.
Timothy flashed his eyes, looking at the cadence of drops hitting his body.
This is the life, he thought. Handsome and free with a big, pink and throbbing dick.
All at once, his seed exploded in the air. Being stuck in that warehouse meant that this guy has a massive load inside of him. That split-second release felt like an eternity. Timothy moaned at the top of his lungs, that’s so loud that people might hear it next door. When he thought his climax is already finished, more of his seed came sputtering to the floor. He came out a mug worth of cum, sending a one huge and long electrifying energy that rocked him to his core. It continued until it ended on spurts and beads.
Timothy heaved. That - that was the best jizz he has done his entire life. It was as if this is his first time releasing a load.
Timothy finished his bath and wore his new clothes. Just as he was coming downstairs, he saw Pickle already arranging the groceries he bought.