Big-dick Bottom Pt. 04

"You callin' me fat, P?" Mario said, but he was laughing, too.

I pulled my pants down and I saw Mario's eyes go to my crotch. I looked down and saw that my wet underwear had gone almost completely transparent and my soft cock was clearly visible, angled up and across my thigh, the way I usually positioned it in order to make it less conspicuous. Mario's eyebrows went up and he let out a sigh, shaking his head. But he didn't say anything. Earlier this afternoon, when I got to work, we had greeted each other as if everything were normal, neither of us acknowledging what had happened the night before.

"OK, I'll, uh... I'll let you get dressed," Mario said, setting down the pants. As he passed me on his way out of the office, he put his hand on the bare skin of my shoulder, and his hand lingered for a beat, giving me a squeeze. But then he was gone and I stripped completely naked and toweled myself off before putting on the clothes he'd found for me. I debated putting my wet underwear back on, but in the end I didn't. I wrung them out as best I could and stuffed them into a pocket. I looked at myself in the reflection of the glass window of the office. I looked ridiculous, like a clown, but it was better than nothing, I supposed.

Stacy was on the phone, but she snorted when she saw me emerge from the office. She handed me a list of addresses and mouthed, "Nice pants."

~

It was 10:25 when I pulled back into the Pizza Hut lot on what I thought was my last delivery run of the night. When I walked in, though, Stacy pulled me aside and handed me another address.

"Hey, it's those assholes again," she said.

"What assholes?" I said.

"The ones that pushed you into the water," she said.

I started to protest, that no, I really did fall, but she cut me off.

"Don't bullshit me, Paulie," she said. "They called again and ordered breadsticks. Just a single order of breadsticks. And they asked for you do deliver it."

"Oh," I said, feeling my heart rate tick up.

"You don't have to go. They can go fuck themselves."

I looked down at my shoes, which were still wet. I heard Mario's loud singing from the front of the restaurant. I thought about the ginger and Zach, how they'd laughed at me, how all the kids at the pool party had laughed at me. The humiliation swirled in my guts and rose to constrict my throat. And it swirled in my groin, too. I felt my cock start to thicken.

"No," I said, grabbing the address from Stacy. "I'll take it. I need to get my hat back anyway."

Stacy gave me a hard look. "Fine," she said. "Whatever. Just don't say I wasn't looking out for you."

I nodded and grabbed the hotbag with the breadsticks and headed back out to my truck.

~

When I got back to Zach's house, it was dark and quiet. The loud voices I'd heard earlier were gone, replaced by loud buzzing of summer cicadas roosting in the large oaks that surrounded the property. My stomach was in knots as I walked around to the back of the house, holding the bag of greasy breadsticks. In my oversize shirt and pants I knew I cut an absurd figure, and I steeled myself to encounter the group of kids again, tried to make myself impervious to their ridicule.

But when I rounded the corner to the pool deck, there was nobody in sight. The surface of the pool was ruffled by a slight breeze, sending the reflection of the moon skittering across the water in a thousand different directions. There were four subsurface lights on, casting a muted, golden light that illuminated the pool deck from below. The lights in the house were off.

"Hello?" I called, walking tentatively among the lounge chairs on the deck. There were red cups and pizza boxes strewn everywhere.

"Zach?" I called again. "I have your breadsti..."

I felt the impact on the back of my head and my vision went out as I crashed to the ground, sending the bag of breadsticks flying. I managed to get my arm up in time to protect my head from hitting the concrete, but my knees were scraped up pretty bad. I turned to look up and saw two looming figures standing over me. In the pale moonlight, I saw them -- Zach and the ginger.

"Hey pussy boy," the ginger hissed at me.

He and Zach were wearing swim trunks but nothing else, and I could see the bulging muscles in their legs, chests, and arms. Fear and adrenaline shot through me. I thought about making a run for it, trying to get away from them. But in tandem with the fear came a red hot flame of lust that coiled first in my balls and then shot up through my body and into my head. Like an iron clamp, I felt the fear-lust encase my brain and send a surge of energy through me.

"I want my hat back," I said, through clenched teeth.

"What did you say, faggot?" Zach said.

"I said I want my hat back... you overgrown fuck." I spoke louder, pushing myself up to stand.

I could see the effect of my words on their bodies, both of them filling with rage.

Yes.

"You motherfucking bitch," Zach said. His fist connected with my stomach. I doubled over in pain.

Yes.

"You faggot piece of shit!" the ginger yelled, and then his hands were around my neck.