Long time reader of p/e stories on here. Thought I'd start one of my own. Enjoy!
Part One
‘’Oh…fuck.’’
Tom tried once again to do up the front of his flies. No matter how hard he tried to stretch it, both sides of the zip failed to meet in the middle. He looked at his watch, he was running out of time. He tensed and strained, trying desperately to bring the zipper into contact. But it was no use. His dick and balls had expanded too much. The zipper could not contain the meat now packed into Tom’s over-stuffed boxers as it overflowed the crotch of his trousers.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door. ‘’Your 5 minute call Sir. Your 5 minute call!’’
Fuck! Why had he not waited? Tom was due on stage any minute now. How could he go out there like this? It looked like he had stuffed a salami and two oranges down there!
Why couldn’t he have been patient? 1 pill per 24 hours. That’s what the guy online had said. The effect was only meant to be temporary, it would wear off a few hours after it had reached its new size. Go back to normal. Like nothing had happened.
But that was the problem. Nothing *had* happened. He’d taken the pill hours ago and nothing. Not even a wiggle! Not even a vaguely impressive semi!
Tom had gotten worried. It had reached the half hour call before he was due on stage – and naked for gods sake! - and nothing had happened. Maybe the pills were fake? Well, if it was, what could 2, maybe 3 more pills do? And if it wasn’t – maybe they’d just give it a little boost and speed up the process?
Tom cursed his vanity. None of this would have happened if Charlie hadn’t had a bigger dick than him!
Charlie – his co-star in ‘The Weekend House’. A revival of a controversial 1960’s play previously banned due to its homosexual content. The then controversial content referred to the Act 1 finale where the two male co-stars slowly undressed in front of each other and stood naked as the curtain closed, taking in the beauty of each other’s male form.
When they had gotten to the scene in the final rehearsals, the director suggested that, for the sake of getting used to it, the two stars should have one go at the scene in the nude. Tom had no objections. He was doing averagely in that department. A perfectly normal 3.5” softie. And besides, every great actor at some point or another had dropped his trousers for the sake of art. It was a rite of passage, as it were.
As the finale approached, Charlie and Tom began to remove their clothes, as directed. Tom felt good in the moment, looking at Charlie – or his character at least, with a lustful gaze. Which wasn’t all that hard. Charlie was quite attractive as it goes. Blonde hair, smooth skin and RADA cheekbones. Tom by contrast was the ‘dark and brooding’ of the pair. Black hair, a decent pair of pecs and a treasure trail heading down to his underwear.
Tom had just gone to reach for the elastic of his pants when he looked up and saw that Charlie had already removed his underwear, and there, flopped out of his pants was a thick, 7” cock. Completely soft. And a pair of egg-szed balls propping up the impressive package.
Tom had stammered and looked down at his own crotch. He could feel his now inferior dick shrivel up at the sight of Charlie’s superior man-meat. How could he compete with that night after night on stage?! He was meant to be ‘the man’! The dominant character who seduced Charlie’s character and corrupted him for a love of cock. (or at least a 1960’s play alluding to a love of cock.) How was he meant to do that when Charlie had him beat by 3.5 inches! Soft!
Tom had stopped the rehearsal – proclaiming he has just remembered some old stage superstition that no actor should remove their clothes until opening night for fear of the show becoming ‘a right balls up’ (theatrical types will believe anything – particularly if it contains a pun.) and managed to hold off the embarrassment of revealing his now lowly excuse for a dick.
Tom had left the rehearsal in a state. What was worse was that he knew he had not convinced Charlie, his co-star with his bizarre, improvised old wives tale. As he’d headed for the door of the rehearsal room that evening he heard Charlie remark as he passed ‘Don’t worry pal. You wouldn’t be the first guy to get stage fright .’ Tom had quickly turned and saw Charlie wink at him, then look down at his crotch, then saunter off in front of him like the cat who had got the genetic cream.
Tom had cursed him all the way home under his breath. I’ll show you, you stuck up little twink! Tom had jumped online and searched desperately to find some sort of way to improve the size of his member. Jelquing would take too much time, pumping would look too fake on stage – there was nothing! Until, late into the night, on some bizarre little known chatroom, Tom began talking to a guy who claimed he had found, for a temporary time at least, the solution to Tom’s problem.
‘’it’s a pill. Basically.’’ Typed the mystery man in the chat bar. ‘’Pop one in. Wait a while, and your dick and balls will grow a few inches. It won’t last, mind. A few hours, tops. But long enough to have some fun with it eh? ‘
Tom was overjoyed! He only needed to have a bigger dick for 90 minutes! Well…90 minutes plus a 15 minute interval.
‘’How much?’’ Tom had typed.
‘’The price of postage. And you let me watch you grow one time on webcam ;p’’
This all seemed a little too good to be true. But, every guy had a fetish Tom supposed. He had agreed to the terms and given his address.
End of Part One
Part One
‘’Oh…fuck.’’
Tom tried once again to do up the front of his flies. No matter how hard he tried to stretch it, both sides of the zip failed to meet in the middle. He looked at his watch, he was running out of time. He tensed and strained, trying desperately to bring the zipper into contact. But it was no use. His dick and balls had expanded too much. The zipper could not contain the meat now packed into Tom’s over-stuffed boxers as it overflowed the crotch of his trousers.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door. ‘’Your 5 minute call Sir. Your 5 minute call!’’
Fuck! Why had he not waited? Tom was due on stage any minute now. How could he go out there like this? It looked like he had stuffed a salami and two oranges down there!
Why couldn’t he have been patient? 1 pill per 24 hours. That’s what the guy online had said. The effect was only meant to be temporary, it would wear off a few hours after it had reached its new size. Go back to normal. Like nothing had happened.
But that was the problem. Nothing *had* happened. He’d taken the pill hours ago and nothing. Not even a wiggle! Not even a vaguely impressive semi!
Tom had gotten worried. It had reached the half hour call before he was due on stage – and naked for gods sake! - and nothing had happened. Maybe the pills were fake? Well, if it was, what could 2, maybe 3 more pills do? And if it wasn’t – maybe they’d just give it a little boost and speed up the process?
Tom cursed his vanity. None of this would have happened if Charlie hadn’t had a bigger dick than him!
Charlie – his co-star in ‘The Weekend House’. A revival of a controversial 1960’s play previously banned due to its homosexual content. The then controversial content referred to the Act 1 finale where the two male co-stars slowly undressed in front of each other and stood naked as the curtain closed, taking in the beauty of each other’s male form.
When they had gotten to the scene in the final rehearsals, the director suggested that, for the sake of getting used to it, the two stars should have one go at the scene in the nude. Tom had no objections. He was doing averagely in that department. A perfectly normal 3.5” softie. And besides, every great actor at some point or another had dropped his trousers for the sake of art. It was a rite of passage, as it were.
As the finale approached, Charlie and Tom began to remove their clothes, as directed. Tom felt good in the moment, looking at Charlie – or his character at least, with a lustful gaze. Which wasn’t all that hard. Charlie was quite attractive as it goes. Blonde hair, smooth skin and RADA cheekbones. Tom by contrast was the ‘dark and brooding’ of the pair. Black hair, a decent pair of pecs and a treasure trail heading down to his underwear.
Tom had just gone to reach for the elastic of his pants when he looked up and saw that Charlie had already removed his underwear, and there, flopped out of his pants was a thick, 7” cock. Completely soft. And a pair of egg-szed balls propping up the impressive package.
Tom had stammered and looked down at his own crotch. He could feel his now inferior dick shrivel up at the sight of Charlie’s superior man-meat. How could he compete with that night after night on stage?! He was meant to be ‘the man’! The dominant character who seduced Charlie’s character and corrupted him for a love of cock. (or at least a 1960’s play alluding to a love of cock.) How was he meant to do that when Charlie had him beat by 3.5 inches! Soft!
Tom had stopped the rehearsal – proclaiming he has just remembered some old stage superstition that no actor should remove their clothes until opening night for fear of the show becoming ‘a right balls up’ (theatrical types will believe anything – particularly if it contains a pun.) and managed to hold off the embarrassment of revealing his now lowly excuse for a dick.
Tom had left the rehearsal in a state. What was worse was that he knew he had not convinced Charlie, his co-star with his bizarre, improvised old wives tale. As he’d headed for the door of the rehearsal room that evening he heard Charlie remark as he passed ‘Don’t worry pal. You wouldn’t be the first guy to get stage fright .’ Tom had quickly turned and saw Charlie wink at him, then look down at his crotch, then saunter off in front of him like the cat who had got the genetic cream.
Tom had cursed him all the way home under his breath. I’ll show you, you stuck up little twink! Tom had jumped online and searched desperately to find some sort of way to improve the size of his member. Jelquing would take too much time, pumping would look too fake on stage – there was nothing! Until, late into the night, on some bizarre little known chatroom, Tom began talking to a guy who claimed he had found, for a temporary time at least, the solution to Tom’s problem.
‘’it’s a pill. Basically.’’ Typed the mystery man in the chat bar. ‘’Pop one in. Wait a while, and your dick and balls will grow a few inches. It won’t last, mind. A few hours, tops. But long enough to have some fun with it eh? ‘
Tom was overjoyed! He only needed to have a bigger dick for 90 minutes! Well…90 minutes plus a 15 minute interval.
‘’How much?’’ Tom had typed.
‘’The price of postage. And you let me watch you grow one time on webcam ;p’’
This all seemed a little too good to be true. But, every guy had a fetish Tom supposed. He had agreed to the terms and given his address.
End of Part One