David's dreams that night were a mix of the bizarre and the erotic. His subconscious mind constantly replayed the encounter with Tony. Details changed from moment to moment though. Sometimes Tony's cock was ten inches long, sometimes a foot, sometimes it seemed utterly enormous, bigger than a horse's. Tony's muscles grew and receded, he gained and lost extra limbs, horns sprouted from his head, then disappeared. His skin changed colors and shades rapidly, and his face wore variations on handsome. But Tony's eyes were always the same: that intense, piercing green that had stabbed into David and lain the smaller man's desires bare.
David awoke with a dry mouth and a raging case of morning wood. He could taste a faint hint of Tony's spunk; he had forgotten to brush his teeth. He got up out of bed, and staggered into the bathroom, his bobbing seven-incher leading the way. He looked up at his reflection in the mirror, and sighed. Still plain old David, skinny as ever. He looked down at his friend between his legs, and sighed again. "What are you so excited about?" he asked his erect manhood, his voice cross. His mind flashed back to the night before, and to how he had gobbled down Tony's cock - he hadn't been eager, he had been desperate. It made his stomach churn in outrage just to think of how he had humiliated himself, giving out a blow job just because some big brute bothered to demand one, with a ridiculous fairy tale promise thrown in. He grabbed toothbrush and toothpaste and brushed with vigor, determined to rid himself of Tony's aftertaste.
He wondered if Tony had then gone back to his friends, to boast of the conquest. The thought made David turn pale. He turned on the shower, then staggered into his closet and grabbed some clean underwear. His mind was still a fog. Tuesday. He didn't have to be in at work until 10:30, to start setting up tables for the lunch crowd.
Yawning, he put the underwear aside, and stepped into the shower. He enjoyed the hot water as it coursed down his skinny body. At least he had this one luxury: a nice hot shower. His cock danced in it, and he reached down, stroking its length. Seven inches wasn't bad, he'd heard. At the higher end of average, even. But on a six-foot, three-inch body, it was hardly impressive. As he rubbed himself, he flashed back to the night before, back to Tony's big tool. Shame rushed back, and David pulled his hands back in anger. Just as quickly, he grabbed his cock again, with both hands now, and began to pump it vigorously. Determined to assert his manhood, to get release, to bury the memory of Tony tricking him... something. Yet no matter how hard he pumped his arms, and no matter how fiercely his cock throbbed, he would not cum. He kept at it until he was starting to rub himself raw, when he finally conceded defeat. He turned off the water, and looked down at his cock through the steam. Red, hard, and covered in veins, it seemed to taunt him. As if he wasn't worthy of it. It enraged him, even as he surrendered in defeat. He stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, drying off, treating his still-hard cock gingerly.
David was tempted to give in to despair on the spot. His first sexual experience had been giving a blow job in a restroom. His own cock would not cum at his touch. He was just a skinny waiter who's life was going nowhere.
He might have called in sick, except he knew that no work meant no pay, and no pay would get very tricky, very quickly. The rent check he'd turned in the day before had all but depleted his bank account, and he needed to work today. With slumped shoulders, he turned to the underwear, and slowly pulled them on. He winced as he struggled to shove his hard, raw cock into them, but he managed. He absentmindedly wondered if this pair had shrunk a bit, as it seemed a bit tighter around the butt than he remembered. On a lark, he stepped onto the scale in the closet.
165 pounds.
"Huh," David grunted. He rubbed his stomach. Maybe his lousy diet was catching up with him? But his stomach felt as flat as ever. While being skinny was no blessing, at least he didn't have a ton of pudge to lose. He looked up in the mirror. Still thin. Lean, small muscles visible under the skin, due more to his lack of fat, rather than to any particular qualities of the muscle. Still, better than nothing.
Feeling a tad less depressed about the state of his life than before, David pulled on the rest of his work clothing. It was one of life's small blessings that David worked at a fairly nice restaurant; they were allowed to buy their own clothes, as long as they were black and work-appropriate. Even on his modest budget, he was able to find a few items that took advantage of his long frame, emphasizing his height and leanness without highlighting his thinness too much. He gave himself a quick once-over in the mirror as he finished dressing. Everything was in place. The clothes looked good. Maybe he'd even get some decent tips; it happened, on rare occasions. He noted the bulge in his crotch, and reached down, adjusting it to be less noticeable. "Damn. Get down, dammit. Can't have you making trouble at work." Once he was satisfied it had been hidden as best as could be, he headed out, hoping for a better day at work than had been the norm, of late.