It all started on a Sunday night. Right before school. Right before, everything…
The gang and I stayed at mine to watch the finale of SuperTeam: Go! Squad. We’d been fans of that show for years and, at 18 and 19 years old, we hadn’t grown out of it. Every week it was on they’d sleep over in my room and we’d all huddle by my TV. Mike even wore his branded pyjamas. Loser.
Oh, right, I should introduce the gang. Well, there’s me. The youngest, and probably the least interesting. I was pretty skinny, Dad always said I needed to eat more, even though I was plowing through bags of just-microwaved popcorn throughout the evening. Must’ve had a fast metabolism I guess.
Then there’s Mike. A bit taller, a bit older, a lot more confident. He and I first met when he stood up to those thugs on the rugby squad that were bullying me again. Always had my back since. When I came out to him, he just gave me a big hug. He was my closest friend. He was the only one of us who had a partner, and actually had sex. He boasted about it daily, and liked to keep us updated on any new goings-on much to our chagrin.
Carlos was always the one hogging all the blankets. He was a bit bigger than us, with a good bit of muscle. The next Michael Phelps he’d always call himself when he’d run off to his swimming practices. Mind you, with broad shoulders like his, it was no wonder he was fast in the water. His chosen eveningwear was often a small vest and shorts which, for someone who was cold all the time, seemed like an odd choice, especially for the winter. I didn’t mind it however, as it gave me plenty of chances to catch a cheeky glimpse at his toned biceps and thighs. I always thought the dude was handsome too, with smooth cocoa skin and a sharp jawline. If he wasn’t a total nerd he’d be a jock, easily. Had I secretly fantasised him throwing me onto my bed and ripping all his clothes off in a display of primal, lust-filled masculinity? Well, that’s a secret I’ll take with me to the grave.
And finally there’s Stevie. Now we were all nerds, but Stevie was beyond help. His comic book collection was like the Mecca for us virgins. I always thought his posture was crooked though, and I imagined him hunched over his books every night reading every page with great intensity right through to the early hours of the morning.
None of us were spectacular, mentally or physically really, except Carlos I guess. We were just average teenagers. Watching a kids show. In a Sunday. In branded pyjamas. Kinda childish actually when you think about it
“Hey! Shaming will get you nowhere,” said Mike, responding to a playful jibe Carlos made about his pyjamas. The two were doing a tug-of-war with one of the blankets at the foot of my bed. I sat over them on my mattress. Stevie sat a few feet away, reading the current issue of SuperTeam!.
“Why do they have to be such a bold red?” laughed Carlos, winning the tug-of-war, “they could’ve made them brown, or blue—“
“Actually,” interjected Stevie, not even looking up from his comic, “SuperTeam’s main colour has been red since issue #15. A brown would make them look too much like the MoshPukers.”
MoshPukers we’re a rival team that debuted about 20 years after…you know, it’s not important.
“Whatever,” said Carlos as he yanked the blanket from Mike and wrapped it around his broad shoulders. As he did, I glanced again at his arms. His strong arms. Arms I wished would fling me around like a—
There was a knock at my bedroom door. It was my Dad, wielding a tray full of snacks. It knocked me right out of the daydream I was having.
“Thought you boys might like a top-up,” he said with his usual warm voice.
His thick white moustache hid his thin lips, but I could always tell when he was smiling. With his shining bald head and wrinkled face, he looked a bit like the Monopoly Man. Don’t tell him I said that. Unlike me, he was rather portly, and always seemed to wear a white button-up shirt and dark brown khakis. He was a teacher at my college, the kind everyone loved, but not as much as I loved him. He was the best dad in the world.
“Thanks Dad,” I said, trying to sound cool in front of my friends as I stood up to grab the tray.
“No problemo Kevin, but you all need to be in bed by midnight. It’s exam week and you need to keep up your revision!”
My name’s Kevin by the way, and Dad was right. We’d been studying for those exams for months, and weren’t going to let insomnia get the better of us right at the end.
“Will do Mr. Blakely! The episode’s almost over anyway,” said Mike, trying to restart his tug-of-war with Carlos. Dad and I exchanged a smile as he left the room and I joined the gang.
***
A few hours later, everyone had gotten ready for bed and quickly went to sleep, the alarm clock glaring the harsh reality of 1am. Because it was my room, I got to sleep in my bed, whilst the gang slept in sleeping bags around me. I felt weirdly like a King looking down on his subjects. It didn’t help that Mike kept jokingly calling me Your Highness.
That was when it all began. I remember waking up in the middle of the night, the alarm clock shining a bright 3am right into my cortexes. I sighed and turned on my bed, trying to get back to sleep. Stevie’s incessant snoring was certainly going to make it a long night.
And then it happened. A bright pink flash by my window, as if something whooshed past without making a sound. The pink light filled the room, shrouding all of us in its vibrant hue. It dissipated as quickly as it appeared. I jumped up and carefully stepped off the bed, leaning towards the window for a better look. But there was nothing, just the view of the empty, quiet street. I blinked. What was that? I thought, must’ve been a glitch with the streetlight or something.
Turning back to the bed my attention was quickly diverted downwards, to my crotch. I could feel my dick coming to life. I always released some pressure every night before bed, but with the gang in my room I couldn’t do it discreetly, and Mike’s sodding sleeping bag was blocking the bedroom door shut so I couldn’t leave. Also knowing Carlos was in my room was sending my hormones crazy.
I sighed again, slinking back into bed as I rapidly grew a hardon. Five inches, nothing crazy. No one’s seen it, as I haven’t seen any other, except for those pornstars with crazy 10” monsters, so it wasn’t a realistic comparison.
I thought about jerking off, but one of the boys catching me in the act was not a risk I was willing to take. Instead I reached into my trousers and tried to adjust so it’s be comfortable when I sleep on my stomach.
Ans then, under my loose grip, I felt a strong shudder and a tingling sensation just above my balls. I almost gasped aloud when I felt my cock grow under my palm. Just an inch, or two, and a little bit thicker. Now, like any man, I know my dick well. I’d know if my dick was longer, or thicker, and it was both.
I immediately hoisted down my trousers to get a better look of it. The alarm clock illuminated my new length. It must’ve been 6, maybe 7 inches now. Not a huge difference to some, but for me it was life-changing. It was the only thing about me that was above average.
“Holy shit!” I whispered to myself. I had never felt so turned on, like all my urges were compacted tightly into that 7-inch shaft. I needed release. It needed release.
Fuck it, I thought, the risk was worth it. I quickly scrambled to get one of my socks off and wrapped it around my cock. I then had the quietest, but most amazing wank of my life. The urge to let out a blissful moan or an “Oh God” was tantalising. It felt a lot more sensitive, with a weird sense of pent-up tension, as if I haven’t jacked off in days. It didn’t take long to cum, and the climax was one for the books.
I exhaled sharply as I felt my cum fill the sock. There was a lot more of it than last time, and it felt hot like magma to the skin. In that moment, I didn’t care what was causing all of this, I laid back and enjoyed it amidst Stevie’s snoring. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that feeling.
I laid breathless, staring as my cock as it slowly softened in the now wet sock. Even soft, it looked bigger than usual. I remember thinking something stupid like was this puberty? as I stared out of the window, into the starless night sky. I had no explanation for it, but I didn’t need one. What’s the harm in a bigger dick?
Little did I know how wrong I was, and how much worse it was going to get.