As my vision came into focus, and I licked the last drops of cum off my lips, Larry turned to look at the newcomer, the voice I hadn't heard before.
"I'm spent, take the kid if you want him," he said gruffly, pulling up his pants and giving me one last snide glare. As he walked away, I turned to the newcomer. This was the first time I really got a good look at him.
He wasn't tall — I was only 5'9", and I'd guess he was an inch or two shorter than me. He had mousy brown hair, dark eyes, and freckles. It was the kind of face people didn't tend to take that seriously, one that could disappear in a crowd. Now, though, with the new changes Greg had made, I found my eyes almost automatically drifting away from his face towards his crotch. Was the fabric straining? How big was he? I couldn't tell...
I blinked, and looked back up. The man was giving me a lopsided grin.
"You wanna come inside?"
I noticed he was standing in front of his open apartment door, only a few doors down from my own. I braced myself for a moment, waiting to feel the usual desperate, almost out-of-body experience type of feeling I'd gotten when Larry and this new guy had spoken to me just minutes ago. It didn't come. It took me a moment to register why: his words weren't an order. If for nothing but curiosity's sake, I nodded.
"S-sure," I said, wiping the last traces of Larry's climax off my face, "C-can I grab a chance of clothes first?"
"Yeah, go ahead," the man said, "Just hurry up."
His words hadn't sounded like a command, but it didn't matter. I quickly grabbed the clothes Larry had made me strip out of off the floor, and darted into my own apartment to grab new ones. Where before I'd tried to find the baggiest clothes I had, now I knew it was pointless. Everyone had already seen my dick. Instead, I dressed like I had before the change. I put on a pair of plain black boxer briefs, some dark gray knit shorts that I privately thought showed off my legs, and a teal T shirt. With all the chaos and commotion of the day I'd forgotten about the heat, but the summer sun was still beating down, and the AC unit in my apartment had been broken since the week after I'd moved in. At the last minute (and maybe with the command to "hurry up" still ringing in my ears), I opted against shoes and socks. Finished dressing, I walked out, closed my door behind me, was met with a wry smile from the still-waiting man.
"D-did I take too long?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. I felt blood rush to my cheeks as his eyes casually swept over my new clothes. Just minutes ago he'd seen me naked, but something about hiding my shrunken endowment made the whole situation seem...erotic.
He shook his head. "Not at all. You ready to come in?"
I nodded, but something about the idea sent a shiver down my spine. He seemed nice enough, so I wasn't about to refuse — he could make me obey if he wanted, anyway — but...what exactly did he want with me? Was he going to just "take his turn," like Larry had suggested?
He turned away, then, and began fumbling with his keys, and I was grateful for the moment of silence. When he opened the door he turned back to me and smiled.
"After you."
Now, I knew plenty of lib arts students who could write dissertations on this type of interaction, who could problematize the hetero-something or other in this situation. But, in that moment, I honestly didn't care. I was unbalanced and overwhelmed by the events of the day, and now even a condescendingly kind word meant lot to me.
I gave the man a shy smile, and walked into his apartment.