Be Careful What You Jelq For Ch. 02

The day started out as so many had so far that summer: me standing in my bathroom, flexing for myself and inspecting the progress of all the hard work I had been putting in to achieve my goal of a full self-improvement make-over before heading off to freshman year of college. My biceps had grown significantly, as had my pec muscles, abs, and quads, but what I was most proud of was the growth between those quads. Even before I reached down to rub myself through the soft material of my gym shorts, I could already see the faint outline of my head as it strained for the bottom hem of the leg hole for a glimpse of daylight.

When I reached a hand inside the top of the elastic waistline and flopped my soft cock over the band, it fell with a loud thud against the sink. Much like a puppy who is oblivious to his wagging tail, it appeared I had still not fully gotten used to my flailing appendage's new radius. I grabbed it back up and stroked it gently in admiration. The reflection in the mirror still astounded me, as if I was watching a porn star getting warmed up before a scene instead of an 18-year-old kid, who had never even kissed a girl let alone pounded her senseless as it seemed so many of the videos portrayed.

The loud buzzing noise of my phone on the bathroom counter finally snapped me back to reality, and I was taken aback at the fact that both my hands were tightly wrapped around my meaty manhood which was now rock hard. I quickly stuffed my erection back into my shorts and grabbed my phone to check the notification.

"Pool party at Dana's tonight"!

My eyes darted back to the mirror. Shock. Awe. Excitement. A myriad of emotions ran through me all at once. At first, I was ecstatic to finally have a legitimate reason to show off my hard-earned new physique, but then I glanced down and was overwhelmed with a rash of panic. In my - heightened state - my friend was a little too anxious for attention and instead of the normal small tent in the front of my shorts that would have been embarrassing enough to deal with, I was now faced with a fully outstretched leg hole that had been strained upwards until not only the head, but about an inch of shaft was proudly bestowed.

"Can't wait," I replied, and snuck to my room to see if the netting in my bathing suits would tame the one-eyed beast lurking beneath.

Of the three options presented, only one seemed truly plausible. The first of my swimsuits was from several years prior, and I remembered them being tight even then. Before I even pulled the trunks past my knees, I felt the material scrunch around my thighs. Sure enough, I wasn't even able to get the waistline in place before needing to adjust the semi-hard eel I had ensnared in the tight fisher's net lining. Once I had wrestled it into submission, I confirmed my suspicions in the mirror on the opposite side of my bed and nearly burst out in laughter at the ridiculous bulge in the crotch in what looked like an overstuffed kielbasa sausage folded over itself.

I peeled those off, tossed them on my bed, and picked up the second option. Just holding it up to my body made me scoff. I remember my mother forcing me to buy the skimpy speedo swim trunks on a vacation to England a summer ago, and me hating them even then. As if my scrawny frame needed any help to get me picked on and ridiculed at the beach, the tight material left very little to the imagination. Figuring it would at least be worth a laugh, I stepped my legs through the holes and yanked the spandex up. The coil of my now flaccid member piled on top of the squished sack beneath it created a softball sized bean bag tumor to jut out in front, which was only made more ridiculous by the fact that on either side were googly eyed testicles.

By default, a modest pair of loose-fitting board shorts that came about mid-thigh won out. The originally bright shorts had faded through years of use to a dull, pastel orange, and the elastic netting inside them had long since given up the tug of war battle. Regardless, the drawstring still tied tight in front and held them in place on my hips. I turned to inspect my reflection from all angles and was pleased that there was no comical bulge in the crotch or other immediately apparent fashion faux pas. With my decision made, I stripped them off again and went about my morning routine.

My mid-morning workout went extra well, as I had the added motivation of getting a nice body pump in order to present the best possible body at the party. After my usual circuit, my body still craved more, so I decided to go for a run in order to burn off some of the extra energy. I threw on my shoes and was out the door in a flash.

The first two blocks of my usual route are mostly through quiet side streets with very little traffic, so I am able to run in the street instead of up on the uneven sidewalks. When I checked my smart watch, I was shocked to see I was on pace to beat my personal best by over a whole minute. I attributed my quicker time to the slight breeze I felt to my back, but couldn't help but feel an extra bounce in my step as I made the turn toward the slight uphill stretch that opened to a large public park.

Unsurprisingly, the park was packed with people since it was a moderate, sunny day. Several elderly women donning coordinated track suits power walked around the all-weather track, a large group of people played a game of pick-up volleyball, as well as a large number of smaller groups and individuals sporadically spaced out in the park who laid on blankets or the grass to tan or simply take in the lovely day. As I approached the group of women on the track, I smiled and waved.

One of the women said something and another gave her a playful slap on the arm and then waved at me. With my headphones in, I couldn't make out what she had said, but continued on my way. As I rounded the corner of the track, I saw a group of girls who graduated last year and must've come home from college seated in a circle on the inside of the track in the opposite corner. From my peripheral, I noticed one of them nudge another and nod my way. My insides were a flutter, but I did my best to focus on my breath and pretend I hadn't noticed them.

Since I knew I had an audience, I increased my gate even further and felt my heart pumping in my chest...and not just because of the running. A quick check of my watch confirmed both my pulse and pace were elevated past my normal levels. The glance to my watch, of course, was a thinly veiled attempt to sneak another peek to the girls, who were now all turned to me. I heard what I thought were cat calls followed by giggles and strained not to look.

Once I was past the girls, I slowed to my normal stride. The change in step caused an awkward shift of weight and I nearly stumbled. I felt a rush of embarrassment, as I was sure the girls had all just seen me almost tumble, but that anxiety was instantly replaced when the shuffle also drew something else to my attention.

I glanced down, and noticed that, in my haste to get out the door, I had forgotten to put on my loose gym shorts over my compression boxers that I typically work out in. My face must have turned into a crimson red, as I came to terms with the reality that I was a thin, stretched out, spandex fabric away from frolicking in public bottomless. To make matters worse, the attention from the girls had made an unmistakable and completely obvious impact on me as the limits of the tight compression shorts were further tested.

Whether it was my own paranoia or reality, I felt the eye of every park-goer on me as I made a concerted effort to not jiggle; the only problem was, that in doing so, I also slowed my pace and shortened my gate which would only mean longer exposure. After a quick internal weighing of the pros and cons, I reasoned that I would shortly be wearing even less clothing at a pool party and this was a good way to get comfortable with any nerves I may have.

No sooner had the decision been made than I was confronted with the repercussions of it. The group of older women were turning the corner to approach me and I swore I could see their heads bounce in unison as their eyes were locked in on my crotch.

My wrist lifted to my face, I opened my stride to a light sprint, and I could actually feel my cock beat against my thighs as it drummed back and forth with each step. Curiosity got the better of me, and I quickly touched the screen of my watch to pause the music in my headphones just in time to overhear the women as I passed by them.

"If I was only twenty years younger, I might be getting a different workout," one of them snickered.

"Oh Julie, you wouldn't know what to do with all that," another jabbed back. "Besides, you've got Frank at home. If anyone needs a workout like that, it's Bev. It's probably been twenty years since she's even seen one. Let alone felt it".

The group continued to barb back and forth, the whole time staring directly at my bouncing baton. I couldn't believe these women who could easily be my grandmother were so openly discussing this. What was even more bewildering though, was my body's reaction to their shameless advances.

As I passed them and made the turn to the other side of the field, I slowed my pace again to a quick jog and reached a hand down to adjust my crotch. When my hand reached the front of my compression shorts, I recoiled as I hadn't fully grasped my predicament. Despite being folded over itself, my half-engorged member was aching for attention and relief of the incredibly tight wrapping it was engulfed in.

It quickly became obvious that my run for the day was doomed for disaster, and I decided to cut it short and head home to relieve some tension. The only problem was, in order to do so, I would need to run directly past the group of girls that were already anticipating my approach.

A gazelle prancing in front of lionesses. The hunger in their eyes was apparent, and one literally was licking her lips as I jogged past. Somehow, I was able to escape unscathed and was on my way out of the park toward home.

Once I was out of eyeshot, I again reached down to adjust myself and felt the base of my swollen appendage leading down my right leg of the shorts. While I kept stride, my hand ventured further down my leg until it reached the enflamed head that was testing the tensile strength of the band at the bottom of the leg hole.

Before I could control myself, my finger reflexively dragged along the underside of the mushroom head which sent a shiver up my spine and an additional surge of blood to meet my hand. Just as I was beginning to enjoy myself, my world came crashing down again. Suddenly, I remembered the volleyball game that was going on and I turned my head with a glimmer of hope that no one had noticed me fondling myself through my shorts.

Of course, that was a wasted wish as I was greeted by an entire group of people staring wide-eyed at me, their ball rolling slowly toward me. I attempted to play it off as having an itch, and tugged again at the thin material of my shorts before I bent over, grabbed the ball, and tossed it back to the closest player without breaking step.

It seemed odd at first that the player didn't catch the ball, but just let it hit him in the chest and roll to his feet again. I quickly understood why as I took my next step and felt a sharp thwap on my right thigh. I couldn't dare look or readjust and figured the damage had been done, plus it would only be worse if I drew further attention to it. With a quick wave and smile to the thirty something looking man who just stood, slack-jawed, I darted off before he or anyone else could react.

Once out of the park, I quickly stuffed my hand down the front of my shorts and retrieved my arrent friend and wrapped my semi-hard dick around my hip to ensure it didn't continue its barrage of strikes on my thigh. I swiftly made my way home without further incident and was barely inside my bedroom door before I ripped my shorts down my thighs and saw a clear red mark from the assault.

Never in my life did I expect that some grandmas and a wardrobe malfunction in front of a stranger in a park would have me so hot and bothered, but in no time at all my two fists were a blur of impassioned, piston-like force. I had turned on the shower already and stood in front of the mirror admiring my own show.

My left hand stroked furiously up and down my shaft while my right hand reached up to my mouth to gather a quick mouth full of spit. Once the saliva covered the head it started to drip down and threatened to fall to the ground. I slightly tilted my cock back upwards and dropped my hips down to keep the lubricant where I needed it.

My gaze drifted back to the mirror and I was amazed to see that, in my slightly hunched position, the tip of my head was a mere inch away from my lips. I had noticed my cock sliding up my belly toward my chest in a bizarre dick-growth-chart, but had thought nothing of it. Originally starting just under my belly button, it now proudly rested under my pecs. I pulled back and let loose with a wet smack against the middle of my chest.

Once again admiring the cloudy reflection in the mirror, I took on both roles in my own porno and grabbed the base of my fleshy crop whip and playfully smacked my nipples until they were both fully erect. The sharp sting felt oddly nice, and I instantly understood why so many of the videos I'd watched over the years featured this staple move before initial insertion.

My newfound sexual awakening was pitifully brought to an abrupt end as there came a sharp knock on the door and I heard a very annoyed, "Don't use up all the hot water, you've been in there forever," from my father on the ither side of the door.

Once my temporary paralysis wore off, I hopped in the shower and wrestled my indignant boner every step of the way as I tried to wash myself and it tried to finish what we had started. As I was rinsing the conditioner from my hair, my erection had finally given up the struggle and subsided enough for me to tuck it between my legs and wrap a towel around my waist to make the trek to my room to get dressed for the party.

Luckily, when I emerged from my room, my family was settled in for family movie night. I made a dash for the door and was on my bike and pedaling for Dana's pool party before the garage door had even fully closed behind me. I was one of about twenty or so students left without their own car which further ostracized me in school but I liked the exercise of my bike, or so I told myself to numb the sting of not having one.

Loud music could be heard from about four houses down, and I recognized a few cars as I rode up. I figured it wasn't even worth knocking on the door, and once my bike had sufficiently been hidden on the side of the house. I walked right in and tossed my backpack with my wallet, keys, and phone on the couch in the living room. As I made my way through the kitchen to the back door, I stopped dead in my tracks as I turned and saw the congregation outside.

Sprawled out on beach loungers, jumping around in the pool, or otherwise galivanting in the bright floodlights was every one of the cutest girls from school; not more than a skimpy bikini on any of them. There were five or six guys sprinkled in the mix as well, but they were white noise comparatively.

"I know, right. Crazy!" a voice said from behind before a hand slapped me on the shoulder.

My friend since second grade, Bill, and I stood behind the glass door and watched in amazement as all the girls we grew up yearning for and secretly crushing on our entire lives now all stood in their enclosure of some perverted zoo concocted in our wettest of dreams.

"Damn dude. You been working out or something?" Bill continued as he now rubbed the shoulder he was still clasping. I shook off his arm and he looked insulted for a nanosecond before rambling on. "You know how Dana tutors Tiffany's little brother? Well, she was over at their house and told him that her parents were out of town. Anyway, Tiffany hears them, and all of a sudden, her and all her friends want to come over for a little end-of-summer party".

"Let me get this straight. The girl you know I've had a crush on since as long as we've known each other invited herself over to our friend's house and you just send me a 'pool party at Dana's' text?" I scolded him and drew his attention to my old swimming trunks and ill-fitting t-shirt. "If I would've known Tiffany-Fucking-Finnigan was going to be here-"

"You would've freaked out and not come," Bill interjected. I would've been more upset if I didn't know he was 100 percent right. "Besides, your suit is fine, and it's a pool party so just take your shirt off and you're good".

Some times our best friends know us better than ourselves. Bill was not going to let me slip into the spiral of self-doubt, or worse yet, run for my bike like I was planning in my head. The glass door whooshed open in a loud, clumsy clammer and Bill shoved me through it and into the lit back yard.

Dana was already visibly tipsy as she threw her arms high above her head and ran up to greet us. She wrapped me in her arms and her wet hair smacked me in the face as she tightly squeezed me in a full bear hug. I could feel my shirt instantly soak and even heard the squish of water as her swimsuit rung out the moisture as our bodies crammed against each other.

She finally pulled back from our long embrace and took an exaggerated hop back. "Do you like my new suit," she sang and twirled with her hands above her head. "Tiffy and I got it when we went shopping today".

Though I had been friends with Dana for our entire high school careers, I had somehow never noticed just how well-endowed she was. Maybe I wasn't the only one who had gone through some changes over the summer. Her tiny 5'1" frame was usually covered in loose fitting hoodies and over-sized t-shirts. Even when we had gone swimming over the years, she always wore one-piece suits and left her shirt on even after going in the water. Tonight however, the dark brown curls of her wet hair were thicker than the slinky bikini strings that tied back behind her head and middle of her back. Those flimsy strings, in turn, did little to hold the teeny triangles of soft blue material in place as Dana continued to jump and dance in place. The mix of excitement, cold pool water, and intoxication had the normal effect on Dana and I couldn't help but notice the subtle hint of her nipples straining against the thin material as her grapefruit sized breasts swayed with her.

Dana's face took a pouty expression before I could answer her evidently rhetorical question. "Oh no, look at you. I got your shirt all wet. Let's just get that off of you," she ordered and clutched the bottom of my shirt before I could refute.

In a blur, my shirt was ripped up my torso, and Dana clumsily fumbled as she drunkenly tip-toed and tried to get my shirt over my head. My arms were tangled, so I was largely unable to help her for what must have been comical to look at for all the other party goers. My assumptions were half correct as I was met with snickers and some bewildering scowls once I was relieved of my soaked shirt.

"Perfect!" Dana exclaimed and took my hand and lead me toward the pool. "You're actually just in time. I need a partner for chicken. Tiffany and Brian have been putting on a clinic, so we gotta take them down," she drunkenly stammered.

Dana continued to pull me through the crowd of fellow students, not allowing me to say hi or even acknowledge anyone along the way. I gave slight head nods and awkward waves with my free hand as I was drawn along. Before I knew it, we were standing along the edge of her massive inground pool. I hadn't had a chance to gather my thoughts before I looked down and saw Tiffany propped on Brian's shoulders, her arms triumphantly raised in a giant V.