Jake Walhurst woke up late, as every other Saturday's morning he could remember. He'd been the designated driver last night, only being allowed one light beer, but the eighteen-year old still required nine hours of sleep to function as a normal human being. Getting out of bed, yawning, his lanky legs tried to maintain balance as he stumbled to the bathroom wearing nothing but his grey boxer-briefs. Any guy who wore any other type of underwear was an idiot, that's what Will always said. Jake tended to agree - he was reasonably well-endowed, and boxer-briefs were comfortable and nice.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, he looked at his reflection. A tall, gangly youth who certainly didn't look eighteen looked back. A big mop of blonde wavy hair, a prominent chin but with round cheeks, grey eyes that were far too feminine. And that was just his head. Downwards, he saw a scrawny boy, with twigs for arms, visible ribs and narrow shoulders. He had some measure of abs, but that was only because of his low BMI. A skinnypack, as Elijah liked to say. Which he did a lot. Will, on the other hand, never commented on it. Jake could not stop his envy. To be like Will.
To be just tall enough to be remarked upon, but muscular and athletic. With obedient, dark hair, not unruly blond straws. To have had sex at age thirteen, not be a virgin at eighteen. Will was the paragon of young masculinity in their area. Even as he remained the most popular guy, he had friends in all social groups, and he invited Jake and Pete along with him on various parties.
And not to mention, his girlfriend was the hottest girl in school. And Thalia was friendly to Jake, as well, friendly enough that he always wondered. Ah fuck. There he'd begun thinking again.
He kicked off his underwear, a boner quickly hardening. This, this was the only part of his body that he was proud of. Eight proud inches, slightly bent to the left, six full inches around. Two plump balls hanging below. It almost seemed absurd as he looked in the mirror, his skinny frame supporting a very large dick. He reached for the lube and let the foreskin glide as he imagined Thalia sitting on his big dick, moaning as he thrust into her. He finished in the toilet, big squirts of cum hitting the water.
As he ascended into his post-nut clarity, though, he thought that Thalia may be disappointed to see what he was packing. It was only last week that his delusion about being the biggest in their gang was destroyed, as he, Will, Elijah, Pete and Mark were having a friendly circle-jerk late at night. This happened when they all were drunk as hell, watching the hottest porn any of them had seen in a while, each eyeing the others, comparing in their mind, and after a while, with tape measures. Will, Jake had figured, probably didn't have as big a dick as he had himself, nor did any of the others. He'd gotten quite the surprise when Pete's dick was, per Pete's measurement, just as long as his own, and Will's fat sausage was half an inch longer, and a full fucking inch thicker around, his balls the size of eggs in their shaved sack. The worst part? Will seemed almost apologetic, like he knew that this was important to Jake. It didn't matter that Elijah and Mark both were smaller, though Mark was the only one under seven inches, or that Jake was the tallest. Will was perfect. His life was perfect. His body was perfect. His girlfriend was perfect. Why did Jake always have to think such depressing thoughts?
He put on a fresh pair of underwear, and ate in the garden, wearing nothing else. His parents and siblings were out of town for the weekend, anyway, and the tall hedges protected the poolside from any prying eyes. As he ate, he got a message from Elijah, the little fucker.
'meet in 2hrs?'
'sure, ur place?'
'no, ur. sisters are home'
He got on to doing the daily requirements. Watering the plants, feeding the dog, taking out the trash, and a short, ten-minute run, followed by a cooling down in the pool. Today, however, the water looked weird. It was darker than usual, a darker, deeper, more intense shade of blue. Maybe it was because he'd forgotten to put the cover over the pool last night? It was only lucky that no leaves had found their way in, but the water looked fine otherwise. Taking a dive, he relished the feeling of the cool water. His feet and hands were somewhat large in proportion to his arms and legs, so swimming had always been easy. The sensation ended, however, when he felt a strange pricking on his skin, and especially on his lips. Fuck, he thought, what's wrong? It has to be the blue color!
Quickly swimming to the side and pulling himself out of the water, he hurriedly toweled, hoping to put and end to the itch. It did, eventually, but not before it'd spread to his nether regions, and he imagined that this must be what chlamydia felt like. As he looked back on the pool, he did a double take. The water was as pure as ever, a perfectly common pool-colored blue. "The fuck?" He forced the suspicion into the back of his mind - it did nothing good to worry about that, now - and went back inside. He was suddenly feeling very, very hungry.