"S-sorry," Greg muttered, reluctantly taking a step away from the man, "I have to take this."
The stranger didn't protest — they were in public, after all — but he gave Greg a dangerous look. He shivered. Maybe he should have let this guy take things farther...
Before he could continue the thought, however, a familiar voice was yelling in his ear.
"What the fuck did you do to the book!?"
Greg winced, and quickly lowered the volume a few notches. He recognized the speaker. It was Jason — how had the boy gotten his number?
"Quiet down," he whispered, "I'm on the bus."
"I don't care!" the voice went on, no softer, "Tell me where you are, I'm coming to get you. You need to give it back."
"Give what back– I mean, how did you even get my number?"
There was a short pause on the other end of the line as Jason composed himself before continuing, in a quiet but icy tone.
"I got it from Larry, by doing him a favor I am NOT going to repeat to you. I noticed you took it and I went out to the hall to look for you, but one look from Larry and I– fuck..." the boy's voice was hoarse suddenly, and Greg's eyes widened as he realized that the Jason sounded aroused.
"What did you do?" he whispered, half-inch cocklet rising back up to full mast as he began to imagine the details of what had gone on.
"It doesn't matter — I just knew something was off. And I got your number. And now, you are going to get off at the next stop and I'm going to come get my fucking book back."
Jason's words were so authoritative that, if Greg hadn't seen how tiny his dick was in person, his knees would have buckled at the thought of giving in and doing what he said. Instead, his head was clear. Even for a baby-dick, Jason was small. Greg hadn't met anyone before who was as small as he was — barely half an inch hard, and uncut so that his shy pink cockhead all but disappeared even with a raging erection, dwarfed by even his tiny marble sized balls. Greg remembered how his crotch had stirred when he'd followed the kid's lead and written about their sizes in the diary — both in the 1st percentile, smaller than 99% of other baby-dicked men. He never knew just writing something down could be so hot. It didn't really make sense, when he thought about it. And now the kid wanted his book back?