This is a work of gay fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely unintentional. This story's main themes are dominance, mind- control/ manipulation and reluctance. Please do not take this more seriously than it is intended.
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CHAPTER 6: JOSH
Today is the day. If I succeed, my housemate Travis will become my personal Human Growth Hormone donor.
Travis and I are at opposite ends of the island in the middle of our enormous kitchen. Taylor, who was here for most of the day, left just a few minutes ago. I told Travis earlier today that I had something important to ask him. He agreed to meet with me, but told me he wasn't available until late afternoon. As a result, I have spent the entire day going back and forth on whether I am going to make my big ask. I have changed my mind a million times at this point. In fact, as I watch Travis sit down on one of the barstools, looking relaxed and cocky as ever, I still find myself going back and forth on whether I am going to bring up my "real" topic with him.
Travis looks at me with curiosity. As always, he is wearing shorts and flip flops only. His large muscular arms are resting on the smooth surface of the island. His tan skin forms a stark contrast with the light color of the kitchen island surface. True to form, he seems completely chill.
Chill is something that I am not. My heart is racing, my palms are sweaty, and I am pretty sure that my nervousness shows in my face as well. I take a deep breath, but instead of starting my story, I hear myself asking Travis whether he wants something to drink. He answers that he will take just a water and asks me whether I am ok. Wow, this is front page news. Travis just asked me whether I am ok. Is there a chance that he has empathy after all? Does this mean he is going to say yes to my request?
I grab a glass and walk to the fridge to fill it. I feel Travis's eyes burning into the backside of my body. My mind is racing. Half of my brain is reciting the lines that the Small No More team taught me. The other half of my brain is going back and forth on whether I am going to say what I need to say, or whether I am going to chicken out.
The odds that today's conversation will go well are not great. In the months that I have lived here, I have not witnessed Travis showing any kind of care for or interest in me. He has mostly seemed to be annoyed with my presence.
Surprisingly, right now in the moment, he seems genuinely interested in what I have to say. He is looking at me expectantly. In fact, as I hand him the glass of water, the overall vibe I am getting from him is, well, friendly.
I take a deep breath, and decide it is time to rip the band aid off. Unfortunately, when I try to remember my opening line, I am unable to recall a single word of the speech I rehearsed. Travis looks at me with his head tilted slightly to one side. I decide to stall again, buying myself some time so I can remember my lines.
"Hey man, give me just one second. I wanna grab a water for myself as well."
I turn my back towards him again and reach up into the cabinet to grab a glass for myself. I can feel Travis staring at me. I am sure he sees how nervous I am. I step over to the fridge and start filling my glass. I push the glass against the spout as hard as I can to stop my hand from trembling.
My mind is racing. I see images of my life continuing the way that it is now. Dick-less. Nutt-less. Unable to satisfy a girl. Then I see an image of myself, naked, with a beautiful huge six incher, hard as a rock, admired by my girlfriend. As my mind flashes back to the here and now, I sense Travis behind me, staring at my back, getting impatient.
My biggest fear of asking Travis to be my donor is that he will share my unusual request with Taylor and their group of buddies and that after a few weeks, everyone in our school will know that little Josh goes around asking people for their jizz.
The Small No More team has urged me to only approach people who I can trust with my sensitive request. They shared several horror stories from guys like me who hunt for Human Growth Hormone on dating apps like Grindr. Those apps are for people who want gay sex. People on there are not looking to donate their semen to someone who's cock can only be seen with the use of a magnifying glass.
Small No More's research shows that hopeful growers like me have much higher success rates when they approach straight guys for donations. Straight guys might request return favors such as running their errands or doing their homework, or even a small fee for a donation. While those kinds of favors could be mildly annoying or time consuming, it's a lot better than having to endure gay sex to score a Human Growth Hormone donation.
I am startled by cold water hitting my hand. I am so lost in thought that I have overfilled my glass. I remove it from the spout and pour a bit of it in the sink so that I can take a sip without spilling all over my face and chest.
When I turn back around, I notice that Travis's expression has gone from curious to "wtf is going on dude?" I cannot wait any longer. I take the deepest, longest inhale I have ever taken in my life and start talking.
I start by telling Travis that I have something to discuss with him that is extremely confidential, and I ask him to promise me that today's conversation will stay between the two of us. Travis has an immediate reply.
"Dude, as long as you are not confessing to being a serial killer or rapist, I will gladly keep your secret."
Me being a rapist. Wouldn't that be something? My tiny frame on top of a girl, trying to put my little micro peep inside her. I imagine her asking me whether I am going to actually enter her, or whether I have some weird fetish where I just lie down on top of women without any actual penetration. Ugh.
I get myself back to the present and continue. I tell Travis that I will not be making such confessions today. I share that I have recently been diagnosed with a medical condition that can be treated with natural means.
Travis, being true to the person he is, does not ask me whether I am ok, or what my prognosis is. He responds by asking me whether this condition is contagious, and whether he should be concerned for his health. Such a caring person.
His lack of empathy upsets me, but I decide to go on.
"No, it's nothing like that. I have low levels of certain hmm, chemicals in my blood, and I just learned that there are natural ways I can supplement them, so that's why I am asking you whether you would consider helping me out by being a donor."
I feel awkward using the term donor, but I am following the advice of the Small No More team. They sent me a script for this conversation. One of their messages urged me to use "medical, non-sexualized terminology" so that my future donor will not think that I am making a sexual pass at him.
Travis looks at me inquisitively. When he speaks up, his voice sounds a bit more hesitant than the usual confident dude-bro vibe he is known for.
"Dude, are you asking me to donate my blood?"
He picks up his water and takes a large swig. I decide I have been beating around the bush long enough and decide it is time to go for it.
"No, blood donations are not beneficial for this condition. The chemicals that my body needs occur naturally in human seminal fluid."
I should have waited for Travis to swallow his water, because upon hearing the words "human seminal fluid" he does a literal spit-take that leaves the kitchen island covered in water. I have no idea what to say or do. This is what I feared would happen, and I am certain I made a huge mistake saying what I just said.
Travis wipes the water off his face and mouth and regains his ability to speak.
"Dude! Human seminal Fluid? Can we agree to speak English please? You mean jizz, spooge, a big load of cum?"
Wow, Travis is really leaning in on the cum synonyms. I guess this is his way of freaking out. He keeps going, clearly fired up.
"Are you saying that you have a medical condition that is going to go away as soon you can get your little hands on my spunk?"
That's low. As much as I want to stay calm and focused on my medical needs, I am offended by him making fun of me with the "little hands" comment. I decide to go off-script, since this Small No More cryptic language is getting me nowhere.
"Look Travis, here's the deal. Yea, I have smaller hands than you. Oh, and guess what, I am a foot shorter than you as well. And that is the whole reason I am talking to you right now. I have been diagnosed recently as someone who has extremely low levels of Human Growth Hormone. Our insurance doesn't pay for the medications that are on the market for it. I am asking you to donate your semen because it is known to have really high concentrations of Human Growth Hormone. If my body responds to these natural supplements, I could gain several inches of height. This is why I am trying to get my "little hands" on your spunk."
I stop talking, surprised at my outburst. Travis looks at me with a weird expression, almost like he is holding back a smile, which would be super fucked up if that were true, given that I am sitting here pouring my heart out. I don't see any anger or shock. Actually, he looks at me like he feels kinda proud of me. Is this what it takes to get through to him?
After what seems like an hour, but in real time is probably five or six seconds, Travis gets up and walks towards the fridge to refill his ice water. As he turns around from the fridge and walks back to his barstool, I find my eyes drawn to his shorts. I catch myself guessing where in those baggy shorts his nuts are hiding, and how much spunk, I mean, how many units of Human Growth Hormone are saved up in there. I wish I could teleport his load from his nuts directly into my bloodstream without having to go through this humiliating conversation.
Travis finally breaks the silence.
"I am glad that you decided to level with me Josh. The way you just explained it makes sense to me. Everybody knows that cum is full of Human Growth Hormone. Me being an athlete and young probably means that I have higher levels of it than the average population."
Travis being Travis. Within five seconds of me asking him for his jizz, he literally finds a way to turn this into a "Speaking of my jizz, I am pretty sure my jizz is the best jizz." What a cocky bastard.
The worst part about this of course is that he is right on all three counts. According to Small No More's research, he ticks the three boxes that are most correlated with high Human Growth Hormone levels. Age, height and a muscular build. As Small No More puts it, "The three factors most predictive for high concentrations of Human Growth Hormone per milliliter of donor fluid."
I try to think of something to say back to him, but he goes on before I speak up.
"So if I agreed to hmmm, make a donation, how would you go about collecting this, hmm, medication you are after?"
Dang! He is asking about collecting his cum. Holy cow. Travis is going for it. I guess this is boosting his already enormous ego, I mean, which jock doesn't wanna have his spunk desired like this? Such powerful medicine. I try to calm myself down, but my voice is trembling with excitement as I answer his question.
"Maybe you could jack off and shoot your load in a cup or a glass?"
Oops, I knew this was going to happen. I totally slipped just now. I should have said donation, not load. Keep it medical. Keep it non-sexual. Not easy to do when your heart is thumping and your blood is racing because you are finally inching towards a solution for your genetic malformation. Wow, "inching towards." The puns just keep coming...
I try not to show the enormous sense of joy and excitement I am feeling. I wanna be calm and collected about this. Not easy to do, as Travis's response give me a literal new lease on life!
While I am bursting with excitement, Travis sounds about as laid back as I have ever heard him.
"Yea dude, I can definitely shoot my load into a cup. Just out of curiosity, did they tell you how to hmm, administer this eh, medication? I mean, dude, are you gonna eh, swallow my load?"
Wow, this is the second time in about two minutes that the Small No More people predicted almost word for word what my donor would ask. I roll out my carefully memorized response.
"The Small No More specialists are recommending that I administer my Human Growth Hormone donations orally, so yea, that means by mouth. They advise people who do not "genetically" enjoy the taste of semen to mix it with yogurt or a protein shake, which they believe will effectively mask the taste."
I don't love the word "genetically" in that sentence. Why not just use the word "gay"? We are obviously all getting the hint.
Travis has that strange expression on his face again. He seems amused about something. I am not sure what it was in that last sentence that was so amusing to him.
"Well, let's get this done. You wanna grab me a cup?"
I am astonished. And confused. Is he offering to give his first donation right here right now, with me a few feet away? I can barely breathe processing this very unexpected development. My voice sounds hoarse when I speak.
"Wait. You are going to jack off right here in front of me?"
Darn. Don's say "jack off", see "donate", or "make a deposit." My heart is pounding and my palms are getting sweaty from nervousness and excitement. This is what I have been hoping would happen. This could be the start of a whole new life for me. I want this so bad. I need this. I cannot believe this is actually happening.
Travis seems completely chill and relaxed about the whole thing.
"Yea dude, let's get this taken care of. As long as you stay right there where you are, and I lower my barstool a bit, there is no way you can see my junk, right?"
He moves his right hand down below the kitchen island counter and lowers his seat. All I see is his chest down to the top part of his stomach, well above the spot where his picture-perfect treasure trail starts. There is no way I will see his cock with his seat lowered like this.
"Hand me a cup or something dude, I am ready to get this done."
As I turn my back towards him to grab a cup from the cabinet behind me, I feel my tiny willy come to life inside my shorts. I throw boners all the time, often for no reason at all, so this is not surprising. That said, I feel self-conscious about boning right now. I don't wanna be boning while watching a dude wank himself to orgasm. I hope I will be more in control of these poorly timed erections once my cock grows to its future size.
I grab a cup from the cabinet where uncle Steve dumps usable "swag" that he collects at all the conventions he attends for his business. I grab a purple cup. I don't recognize the company's name or logo, but I do notice their tag line; in bright yellow letters, it says "Your trusted partner in growth". Wow. This is either a great sign, or the universe is really messing with me at this point.
I turn back around to hand Travis the cup. I can tell by his arm movements that he has already pulled his dick out of his shorts. He is openly stroking his pole and he is not at all concerned about me being just a few feet from him.
While he is massaging his cock with his right hand, he is fiddling with his phone with his left hand. He pushes his water glass away from him a little bit and places his phone against it. He pushes something on the screen, and immediately the kitchen is filled with porn sounds.
He starts stroking and by the amount of movement I see his arm making up and down, it is clear to me how much bigger his cock is than mine. I have no idea what to do with myself, or where to look. My dicklet is throbbing inside my briefs, begging me to take it out (not gonna happen obviously) as it gets harder and harder due to the sounds coming from Travis's phone.
After less than a minute, Travis' arm stops moving. He pauses the movie and looks up at me. I am mortified. Is he not going to donate after all? Or maybe he has decided he needs to go upstairs and do this in the privacy of his room? Neither one of my guesses is even close to being on the mark.
"Hey dude, would you mind turning around? I wanna get you this load but it's kinda hard when it feels like you're, you know, staring at me. Maybe you can just get on your phone for a couple of minutes so that I can complete this mission."
Out of all the options we have, number one of them being me leaving this kitchen so that I can wait for this donation upstairs in the comfort of my room, Travis picks the option called "stay here in the kitchen and listen to the porno that I am jacking off to less than six feet away from you.". While I want to protest, disagreeing with Travis right now is not an option. I turn around and grab my phone. I lean my elbows on the counter next to the sink to get comfortable and open my Tik Tok app. I feel kinda funny and on display. If I were a girl, I know Travis would be perving on my bubble butt right now. As I start scrolling, I hear the porn sound again, signaling that Travis has resumed the donation process.
After what seems like two or three minutes, the sounds behind me stop again. Travis's voice sounds a bit strained, like he is panting from the effort. Dang, did he cum this quickly?
"Hey dude, can you do me a favor? Can you run up to my room and bring me the jar of lotion from my nightstand?"
Wow. I did not see that one coming. The Small No More team did not prepare me for this request. I guess they didn't realize that my first donation would include being Travis's lotion-delivery-boy. What is next? Will he need me to hold the donation cup?
As I open my mouth to tell him that I will "gladly" run upstairs to get his wank lotion, I realize that we have a logistical problem. To leave the kitchen and go upstairs, I am going to have to walk past him, and I know for a fact that he has his junk out. I do not need to see any body parts belonging to him that are below the waist. Especially not the body part he continues to stroke as I turn back around. I already know it's huge and seeing it will only make me feel worse about my tiny toy. I asked for a cup of jizz, not for a jack-off show by my cocky housemate. I decide to use a bit of humor to reduce the awkwardness of the moment.
"Sure, I can go and grab that. Are you gonna put that snake back inside your shorts so I can pass by there without seeing something I won't be able to unsee for the rest of my life?"
I guess Travis and I have different senses of humor. No smile. Not even a tiny grin. His hand travels back down below the kitchen island, and I am 100% sure he is grabbing his dick again.
"Neh dude, I don't wanna lose my boner. I am just gonna keep stroking it, but slowly, until you get back with the lotion. I will turn my back towards you, so you won't see anything."
Travis turns his barstool 90 degrees to the right. This means I will only see his back when I pass by. While the whole thing still feels pretty awkward, this is progress. Also, I need his load, so I am going to have to find ways to deal with a bit of unease.
I head to the stairs, keeping my gaze to the right, away from Travis. I run up the stairs, feeling my mini peep rub against my briefs. It's begging for attention, and I decide to give it a quick squeeze. Dang, it's as hard as it's ever been. I can tell that I have a bit of precum leaking into my briefs. I am tempted to run into my room instead of Travis's to rub one out real quick but decide against it. I have got to score this load as soon as possible!
I enter Travis's room. I have never been inside his bedroom, even though I have been living here for several months. The smell that hits me reminds me of a locker room, but not in an overpowering way. Just a hint of sweat and testosterone. I quickly grab the (enormous) bottle of lotion from his nightstand.
As I head down the stairs, I feel both nervous and excited. Halfway down I notice the sound of his porn movie. I guess he resumed watching it even before his lotion delivery boy got back with his giant tub of spooge helper.
I re-enter the living area and see Travis straight ahead of me. I am relieved to see that he didn't move back to face the island. From here, his junk is safely hidden behind his massive muscular back. I see his right arm moving, clearly he is stroking his tool. It looks like he has pulled his shorts down an inch or two because the top of his butt is spilling out of his shorts.
I place the tub on the island just behind my semen donor. I give it a push and it slides forward, landing right next to his phone. I quickly walk back in the direction of the fridge, back to where I left my phone on the sink. I am relieved to be back in my safe spot, or at least safe-ish spot. At least the kitchen island is now back between the two of us, offering an excellent visual barrier.
Travis swivels his chair back towards the island.
"Perfect dude, that's the magic potion I need to make this, hmm, what did you call this again? Oh yea, donation."
He squirts a big glob of lotion into his right hand. As he lowers his hand down to his dick, I decide to turn my back towards him again so that he can get this deposit made without me staring at him. As I turn around, my eyes catch an unexpected movement on my right, the side of the kitchen where the stove and the two massive convection ovens are located. I focus my gaze and realize what's happening. The dark glass of the ovens functions as a perfect, high-resolution mirror. They are located about six feet to Travis's right. My eyes quickly dart up and down. In the top oven, I have a perfect view of Travis's upper body. I briefly glance down, and to my horror, confirm that the bottom oven gives me a clear view of Travis's crotch.
I quickly turn my head away and force my gaze towards my phone. I sense my face turning beet red from the shock. This is so crazy on so many levels. Travis, this straight uber-jock, who always thinks of himself as the smartest person in the room, is giving a live peepshow to his male housemate. This is too much to take in. If he knew he was putting himself on display like this, he would probably never donate again.
I try to make myself focus on my phone, but I can tell I am fighting a losing battle. I am about to get my first Human Growth Hormone donation and I wanna see the tool it comes out of. I wanna know how big it is. I wanna know whether his nuts, where this badly needed hormone supplement is stored, are as large as I hope they are. The Small No More team hasn't said this explicitly, but I am pretty sure that the bigger the donating dick and balls are, the more I will benefit.
Also, going forward, Travis will certainly be jacking off in the privacy and comfort of his bedroom, so this will likely be the one shot I am ever going to get at seeing his junk.
I move my phone slightly to my right, making sure that from where Travis is seated, it looks like I am focused solely on my Tik Tok vids. I glance at the oven and am speechless.
My eyes are drawn to the top oven first. Travis's upper body in silhouette. His right arm is really going to town right now, his biceps and shoulder muscles bulging as he is stroking his cock. I notice the enormous contrast between his massive chest muscles and his thin stomach. The reflection of the oven door is so clear, I can see the definition of his abs and the muscles around his rib cage.
My eyes don't stay focused on the top oven door for very long though. When I look down to the bottom one, I make a soft but audible gasp. Thank God he has his phone going loudly, there is no way he can hear me over the sound of the multiple ladies who apparently all are simultaneously in need of "daddy's big pole inside my pussy RIGHT NOW!"
Travis' dick is large, thick and hard as a rock. It curves upwards slightly, and it is easily eight to nine inches long. This is a dick that any dude would give their life savings for. A dick that gay guys lust over, and straight guys simply admire for its sheer beauty.
I am both jealous and in awe. I cannot look away from it, I wonder whether this is what people experience when they are looking at a piece of art. "Adults only" art in this case.
Travis is stroking his tool while watching his phone, on which by the sound of it, several women are either pleasuring each other, or getting axe murdered. I am going to assume the former for now. Now that he has added the lotion, I can both see and hear his hand sliding up and down on his cock. The squishy sounds added to the sounds of his phone are making my mini pecker leak into my briefs. I can feel a serious wet spot forming.
I quickly glance back to the top oven. Travis's face has an intense expression. His face looks hyper focused, almost angry. From the sounds of the porno, he is watching a sex scene that is significantly rougher than the porn I usually watch. The ladies in the porno are either experiencing intense pleasure from being pounded or they are being sliced in lots of pieces at this point. I guess Travis likes rough sex.
My eyes change back to the bottom oven. The intensity of the movie is making Travis speed up. I can see and hear that both his pace and the force he is applying to his perfect tool are increasing. He is going to take care of business. OMG, I am about to receive my first legit donation!
My micro is screaming for attention. Since I have my back towards Travis, I don't think he will notice if I lower my hand down to my crotch. I move my left hand down and carefully rub my little dick. It is screaming for more. AHHH, I wanna run out of here and rub one out in my room so badly.
Travis is jacking off really fast now. His breathing is getting heavier. The dialogue on his screen is getting crazier and louder. In addition to the women panting and moaning and screaming, there are two male voices who are getting louder. The dudes are uttering extremely short sentences, and every single one of them ends in the word "bitch." "Yea bitch", "take daddy's big fat cock, bitch", "you like daddy's dick in your twat bitch?"
Travis is eating it up. He seems to have forgotten that I am here. His focus on his phone gives me a chance to caress my tiny sausage a little longer. I feel funny pleasuring myself watching Travis, but the excitement of this moment and the sounds of the porno have me rock hard. I give my baby carrot two more quick squeezes and feel chills going through my entire body. I put my hand back on the sink, longing for my next cum and hoping that Travis will climax soon.
Travis' stroking is getting faster and faster. I think he is timing his orgasm to the movie he is watching, because the sounds on the screen are becoming insane. The female voices are screaming at the top of their lungs. No words are coming out, just moans and screams. The men are apparently both getting close. The pounding sounds are getting faster and faster and the dialogue, if you can call it that, is now all about daddy's jizz, daddy's babies and daddy's spunk that they are about to release inside the women's pussies.
I turn my head a few degrees further to the right and take a quick glance over the kitchen island. Travis's upper body is glistening with sweat. There are small veins in his face that I have never noticed before, apparently popping up as a result of this epic wank off. I can tell he is about to blow. I hope he will remember to grab the cup and aim his dick inside it.
Apparently, my wish is Travis's command. Without warning, Travis jumps up from his stool, sending it flying several feet behind him. He grabs the cup with his left hand and bends over his upper body. I hope he is capturing every single drop of this valuable donation.
His orgasm is in perfect synch with the movie on his phone. All of the male and female actors are apparently cumming at the same time. The loudest male actor screams "TAKE THIS FUCKING LOAD YOU NASTY CUNT" as Travis blows his load into the cup. I feel a tad awkward, in a super weird way, it feels like that porn actor dude just called me the C-word.
As the loud orgasm sounds from the movie start to die down, Travis's upper body stops convulsing. I only see the back of his body in the oven glass. When he jumped up and grabbed the "partners in growth" cup, he turned to the left. The bottom oven shows an almost full view of his muscle butt. His shorts cover just the bottom of his butt cheeks. He pulled his shorts down just enough to free his junk.
I refocus my gaze on my phone, as I expect Travis to refocus on me now that he is done shooting his load.
I am glad I did because I hear his voice about five or six seconds later.
"Well dude, here's your very first, extra-large serving of first grade, certified organic Human Growth Hormone. I sure hope this will help you achieve your growth goals."
I turn around and look across the island. Travis looks at me with a huge grin on his face. I assume he has made a rather large deposit because he is visibly proud. He leans over the island and puts the cup down on my side of it. I don't know whether to reach for it immediately, or to wait until Travis tells me to. What is the protocol when someone hands you a cup full of jizz?
Travis pulls up his shorts and seems ready to leave the kitchen. Yes please! He looks at me and speaks up.
"Ok dude. I am going to hit the shower. I hope you enjoy your snack."
He grins as he says this. It's not a cruel grin, just Travis being a big fan of Travis jokes.
He starts to head to the stairs. His muscular back and shoulders are shiny with beads of sweat.
As soon as Travis disappears out of sight, I grab the cup and inspect my first donation. I am in awe of the amount of cum that is in there. Holy cow, Travis cums like a firehose. It is more than double the amount that I normally cum, in fact, it may be three times as much. I guess that in addition to having a tiny dicklet and baby balls, I also shoot mini loads.
I open the fridge and scan the shelf where we store the yogurt. My options include blueberry, banana, "mixed fruit" and peach. Hmmm, which flavor will be best at masking the taste of cum? I grab an individual serving of the peach flavored one. After adding the yogurt to the cup, I take my time to make sure that I thoroughly mix the two together. Before I take my first bite, I mumble a one sentence prayer. "Please God, please let this natural Human Growth Hormone work inside me and make me whole."
I start gobbling up the cum-fortified yogurt and finish the entire serving in less than a minute. Thankfully, the yogurt tastes completely normal. I make a mental note to make sure that we never run out of peach flavored yoghurt. I finish the entire serving, using the spoon and then my fingers to clean the inside of the cup. Before I place the cup in the dishwasher, I decide to give it a good rinse in the sink. It feels necessary, making sure to remove trace amounts of DNA that would still be in there.
As I head up the stairs, I sense an enormous feeling of hope and joy. Who would have thought that after years of feeling like I would literally never share any kind of physical intimacy with another human being, I might be on my way to growing a real dick?
I grab my tiny worm through my shorts as I walk by Travis's room and whisper softly to myself.
"Just you wait little fellow. Josh and Travis have BIG plans. Be patient for just a few more months and you'll finally get that growth spurt you have been waiting for".
I close my door, lock it, and pull my pants down. I grab my willie, squeeze it and rub. The towel I used when I showered earlier today is lying on the corner of the bed. I stop towards it, and stroke my cock. After just seven or eight strokes, I blow the biggest load of my life. I have never blown a load this quickly. I watch the white shots of cum land on the dark blue towel. While this is a very big load for me, I realize that this is not even close to the amount of cum that Travis produced. I squeeze the final drops out of my little pecker and fall on my back on the bed, next to the cum soaked towel.
This has been the best day of my life, and I can sense that my new life has only just begun.