I was a Teenage Sex God Ch. 07

THREE DAYS LATER

The school bell rang. Teens flooded the hallway. Students had five minutes to get to their next class. Lance dialed the combination to his locker. There were no textbooks inside. In fact, the shelves were empty except for an empty box of condoms that contained a dime bag of weed. Lance shut the door to reveal Luna standing just a couple feet away. The emo babe looked good. She wore a bright red, low-cut crop top that spelled out SAVAGE in gold letters. Very ironic and even sexier.

"Hello there," she beamed.

"You stalking me again?" he joked. "I thought I gave you my phone number."

"I texted you three times today. You never wrote me back."

Lance pulled out his mobile and scrolled the touchscreen. Since that morning, he had 57 unanswered text messages, 19 missed calls, and 4 voicemails. He didn't recognize all the numbers but the list included a lot of previous hookups and a couple prospects.

"Sorry, babe. I sort of got a backlog here."

"Well, let's cut to the chase. What are you doing for Prom?"

"Nothing. I hate that shit."

Lance found the dance to be a sore subject. Despite all the hoopla about the prom, he felt a bit weird about asking out one of his friends with benefits. Lance was not the sort of guy that girls took home to their parents. Of course, he wasn't the only student that felt left out at Peoria Tech that week. Luna might have looked hot but her status as the 'school slut' made the emo fox an untouchable for certain social events. She was not popular so much as notorious.

"Aw, c'mon," she coaxed him. "I'll make it worth your while."

"I don't need a fucking limo and corsage to get laid."

"Well, you sort of would be going on a double-date."

"I ain't sharing a limo with some dude."

"Who said anything about a dude? I meant that Raven also needs a date to the prom. Remember her?"

"You spoke to Raven?" asked Lance, barely able to contain his excitement. Rumors abounded that Luna and Raven were bi and had been getting horizontal on a regular basis. A deleted Instagram post with the pair in a liplock added grist to the mill. More than intrigued, Lance casually mentioned the possibility of a threeway the last time he hooked up with Luna. She didn't commit at the time but whatevs... It was ON!

"Between you and me, Raven is looking for a friend with a large benefit package" Luna whispered in his ear as her hand traveled down his thigh. "A really large one." She grabbed Lance's junk through his sweatpants and gave it a firm squeeze. YOW!

Lance had to use every last ounce of his very limited teenage willpower to stay calm. Even though Samson maintained a low profile as of late, Lance always felt his alter ego lurking in the background. Personally, Lance found the barbarian sex god to be a 1st class badass. However, his manner was, to put it mildly, uncouth. That dude might have had game in 10,000 BC but not in 2022.

On top of that, Lance had gone commando that day. After making love to Nicole all morning, the stoner was running late. With only ten minutes before first period, he had to dress, hop on his Harley, and speed off to class. The horny teen knew the risks. Like any young man, he experienced spontaneous erections. But his tool grew A LOT bigger and harder than other guys. He had nowhere to hide it.

"Lance?" giggled Luna. "Are you high or something?"

"Oh, sorry," Lance finally answered. He had zoned out with all this Samson business.

"Anyway, Raven's parents are going to be out of town next weekend," she continued. "We'll have her place to ourselves."

"I'll think about it," he said, trying to keep a straight face.

"I can tell you're thinking about it already," smiled Luna. Lance played it cool but his excitement was palpable below the belt. His tool started jutting out from the leg of his sweatpants with the subtlety of a lead pipe. Lance had wanted to up his game to threesomes but hadn't found the right opportunity yet. Instead, the opportunity had just found him.

The school bell rang.

"Gotta go," she told him and walked off. FUCK! Luna left him high and dry.

Lance could feel a major episode coming on. He had only seconds to get out of sight before Samson took over. With his prick tenting his sweats, the horny teen shuffled into a nearby bathroom. He locked the door behind him and checked it twice. Lance could not afford another run-in with Steve Knight or his lackeys. Ripping a sink out of the wall had been fun but he could not make a habit out of it. Officer Sanchez already had the heavy metal hoodlum on her radar.

Suddenly, he felt the barbarian's voice exploding from his mouth in a ferocious roar: "BOW DOWN TO THE HERCULES OF SEX!!!" His pole violently lurched upward in his sweatpants, tenting the fabric with obscene exuberance. The organ began to pulsate as if it were on the verge of ejaculating. Lance had just enough presence of mind to pull down his sweats in case he blew.

The episode lasted about twenty seconds. It was short but intense. All his muscles clenched at once. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Then this electric feeling of POWER began to surge through his body. He felt like he could lift 1000 pounds or bang 20 girls in a row. Somehow, Lance knew this feeling was how Samson felt all the time. That concept blew his mind. How could anyone experience so much pleasure? It was his last thought before blacking out...

A few seconds later, Lance found himself standing in the middle of the bathroom with his sweatpants pooled around his feet. He had gotten lucky this time. Samson didn't break anything. However, he left the teen with a huge hard-on. Lance stared down at his endowment. Dayum! His cock looked bigger than ever. Last month, Lance measured ten-and-a-half inches. Today, his erection probably cracked eleven at full-mast. The doctors warned him he might still grow but no one knew for sure. Well, now he knew...

His gaze still fixed upon his tool, Lance could not resist touching it. His heart began to speed up. Since his transformation, the teen developed all sorts of new turn-ons. Among the craziest, he got turned on by the size of his erect penis. Feeling its weight pulling down on his pelvic muscles, enjoying the pulse of blood through its jugular-thick veins, watching the organ grow inch after inch... And, most of all, knowing he was bigger than any other teen in America. That got his dick hard.

Unfortunately, his turn-on presented a dilemma. Becoming aroused by your own erection sustained your erection. You ended up in a state of perpetual claw-at-the-turf lust. And there was only one way to break that fever.

Lance never jacked himself off in a public place before. Sure, he had banged a couple cheerleaders in the girls' locker room but those acts seemed more edgy than taboo. Masturbating at school felt downright perverted. Couldn't he keep it in his pants? But, as images of Raven and Luna flashed through his mind, he instinctively began to stroke his shaft in both hands...

The horny teen thought about all the positions he would try out with two girls and how hard they would come on his supersized schlong. Suddenly, his tool began to vibrate. He could feel his balls rumbling. Going for broke, he gripped his shaft and aimed the knob at a sink.

It was a powerful orgasm, almost as good as when he banged a chick. Boasting an average of three or four hookups per day, Lance had forgotten the joy of masturbation. And the volume of his cumshot blew his mind. He filled half the sink with hot creamy spunk! While his ejaculations always proved unusually robust, this load seemed impressive even for the ultra-virile megastud.

After running the sink to drain his discharge, Lance pulled up his sweats and tried his best to make himself presentable. Tumescent or no, he retained the dopey expression of a dude who just enjoyed a very satisfying wank. Unlocking the door, Lance tiptoed into the back of his language arts class. To his dismay, his priapic pole began to grow erect with each step until it tented the front of his sweats once more. Mr. Lynn tried to ignore it but not a few girls began to snicker quietly. Normally, Lance would have been embarrassed but his mind had drifted elsewhere. Just the thought of those bi-babes together got him hot and bothered. He didn't know how he could wait until Saturday for the dance.

A WEEK LATER

Back home, Nicole helped Lance get dressed for the big night. They stood before the large mirror mounted on top of her vanity. The bare-chested Adonis struck a pose. Lance looked strong and dominant with arms akimbo. The teen bodybuilder could have modeled for Calvin Klein had it not been for the obscene bulge in his underwear. A guy like him clearly required specialty apparel.

"I hope you're not jealous," he told the foxy cougar as she handed him the dress slacks for his tuxedo.

"Don't give yourself too much credit, kid," she laughed.

Lance had been hooking up with Nicole a lot lately but the two of them agreed to keep things casual. Neither wanted things to get incestuous so to speak. While they shared a bond, Nikki was nobody's fool. She knew better than to crowd him. Lance was a bad boy with a big cock. Not a soul mate. To her credit, his stepmother discouraged him from stealing cars and doing hard drugs. She re-directed his aggressive tendencies into productive pursuits like football and bodybuilding.

Coach Walker had spoken to Nicole yesterday for the first time. Apparently, her stepson had demonstrated so much potential on the gridiron that he could get an athletic scholarship virtually anywhere. If he didn't get expelled. Unfortunately, that was hardly a given.

And then there was his audacious womanizing. His relentless libido knew no bounds. In addition to their daily hookup, he usually bedded two or three more girls with seductive ease. His promiscuity did not thrill her but what could she do? The MILF had even less of an excuse to sleep with the teen than girls his own age. After all, she was supposed to be the responsible one. But a woman wanted what a woman wanted. So she bought her charge a lifetime supply of Magnum XL condoms and warned him to behave discreetly.

Lance shimmied into his slacks. After struggling to secure the top button, he yanked up the zipper. It got caught halfway up.

"These pants don't fit," he complained.

"I ordered a 34 inch waist just as you requested."

"Well, I also got an eleven-inch cock."

"Ten," she countered.

"Eleven and counting. I measured it this morning. You know what the doctors said. I haven't stopped growing."

"Ten and a half."

"Eleven."

"Whatever," muttered Jane as she carefully lowered, then pulled his zipper all the way up. "Just needed a woman's touch."

"Sure does," he smiled seductively while reaching for his bow tie. "How does this thing work?" "Let me show you," answered Jane before tying it around his neck. "Of course, you probably want to wear a shirt with that. Lance admired himself in the mirror. For a moment, he pondered going shirtless to Prom.

"Don't even think about it," laughed Jane. "Put on your dress shirt. You look like a Chippendale with that stupid bow tie."

"Huh?"

"A male stripper."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

The doorbell rang.

"Oh, shit!" he muttered. "Luna showed up on time for once."

As Luna rang the doorbell over and over again, Lance quickly slipped on his dress shirt while Jane did his cuff links and fixed his tie. She ran downstairs to open the front door. Luna looked great in her strapless black gown. It showed off her enviable curves and provided more than eyeful of cleavage. Lance bolted into the living room. The sight of her stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Nicole, this is Luna," Lance announced with a bit more excitement in his voice than normal.

Another figure emerged from the stretch limo in the driveway: "And this is...Raven."

The next few seconds unfolded like a slow-motion dream. Raven wore a form-fitting vintage dress that accentuated her slender frame. In heels, she stood six feet. Luna's girlfriend glided to the door with the practiced walk of a genuine runway model. Lance had never seen her in person before. She had just come from Fashion Week in New York.

"Entrez," Nicole told the girls with an amused expression. Lance hadn't told her about their "double-date" but it didn't surprise her. She found it curious when the ladykiller bought two corsages at the florist. Lance explained lamely that his date wanted to wear them on both wrists.

The next few minutes passed awkwardly. Nicole hadn't exactly prohibited Lance from dating but he stopped taking chicks back to his pool house. She seemed like the jealous type. To his relief, Nicole proved a gracious hostess. The three of them posed for some PG-rated photographs.

"OK, smile," Jane told them before squeezing off a few snaps on her smartphone.

The playboy draped his arms over their shoulders and pulled them in close for a group shot. He bore a very mischievous grin. In a flash, the sexual tension in the room grew palpable. Every girl in that room wanted to fuck Lance. And while all of them knew that, protocol dictated that this elephant should be left unmentioned.

"Oh, darn," said Luna at last after looking at her watch. "I think we're late."

The girls gave Jane a firm handshake and headed to the door with Lance.

"Don't forget," Jane told him. "Curfew is at ten."

"Eleven!" he retorted.

"Ten and a half."

"Whatever."

"What was that all about?" asked Luna.

"Don't ask," he muttered.

The three of them piled into the limo. Luna and Raven took one seat. Lance tried to wedge himself in between them but they pushed him away affectionately. He had to take the opposite seat.

"Not so fast," Raven told him. "You know the deal."

'The deal' was that Luna and Raven began to mess around that semester. They planned to use the prom as their 'coming out' party generally fuck around with the squares. While the school would not have made a fuss about a lesbian couple, the two of them wanted their date to be a surprise. Accordingly, both of them listed Lance as their companion when signing up for the dance and no one noticed the stoner was escorting two chicks to prom.

"If you play your cards right," grinned Luna as she pulled a big joint out of her purse. "You might get lucky tonight. Maybe."

Raven took out a silver-plated lighter and lit up her girlfriend. They both took a toke and passed it across to Lance. He took a long drag and watched his companions lock lips. Their bodies melted together. They held their kiss for a long, luscious time. Lance's slacks felt uncomfortably tight. The garment had not been designed for a hung stud like him. He took a deep breath and counted to ten. Tonight's dance was going to redefine the meaning of eternity. He checked his watch. If the prom ended at midnight, Lance had to endure at least six more hours of teasing before he got a moment alone with these foxes.

"Your mom is hot," Luna said out of the blue.

"She's not my mom."

"Your stepmom."

"She's not that either."

Raven and Luna exchanged looks. Lance suspected he just knocked over a large pail of grist into the rumor mill. Then again, who cared? His companions for the night hardly seemed to have a problem with courting controversy. The girls exited the limo arm-in-arm as a couple flashbulbs popped. Lance trailed behind a couple paces and enjoyed the stunned reactions of the student body. Luna seemed to be enjoying the attention. While nice girls called her a 'slut,' the jezebel wore the title proudly. She commanded a lot of influence in the high school pecking order by employing her forbidden sexuality as a form of power over men. In that regard, Luna also staged her sapphic debut on her own terms. The girls ruled and the guys drooled. At the same time, the foxy teen's proud ownership of her identity had silenced the homophobes as well.

Lance couldn't help but admire Luna as she led her companion on the dance floor. She didn't give a shit any more than he did. Raven also made a perfect companion for her. The Goth had dressed to kill: black dress, black gloves, black lace, black choker, black lipstick and a red rose in her hair to placate her parents. Raven seemed to play the femme to her butch as they glided gracefully across the dance floor. Dozens of flashbulbs lit up the room like a fireworks display. Instagram would soon be flooded with the hash tag #LunaAndRavenForever.

"Fuckin' lesbos," grumbled the captain of the football team to his lackeys. Steve Knight never liked Luna since she refused to put out on a date with him. "Hey," he heckled the girls. "Why don't you chicks get a room?" Steve felt a firm hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see Lance: "They will get a room... with me." The moment grew tense. Steve's toadies backed off a couple paces. Even his friends knew the jock would be no match for the alpha thug. The two of them looked ready to rumble. Finally, Lance walked away. He made his point.

Lance headed toward the punch bowl. He checked his watch. The dance still had five hours left.

"Going stag?" asked a voice flirtatiously. Lance met eyes with Jen. He hooked up with the svelte rock chick all the time. She looked particularly hot that night in vintage Chanel.

"Nah. Not tonight, babe," he told her. Lance held up two fingers and pointed them directly toward Raven and Luna.

"Not bad. Still care to dance?"

Lance looked over at his dates. They seemed quite enraptured with each other for the moment.

"Sure," he told her. "Lead the way."

Thankfully, the band had just struck up an up-tempo number. Lance didn't think he would have been able to control himself if they played a ballad with a slow dance. Even so, Jen hip-checked his crotch early and often as they swung about the floor. Lance felt his phone vibrate in his pocket over and over again. His surprise appearance at the prom had piqued the curiosity of his girlfriends and not a few amused texts were being sent his way. Everywhere he looked, Lance saw his many lovers dressed to the nines. Most of them met his leer with hungry looks of their own.

"Jesus, Lance!" she giggled. "Can't you keep it in your pants?" Technically, it was still in his pants but the bulge jutted out at an odd angle.

"I am what I am, babe," he replied coolly. Lance did not feel any embarrassment. He loved having a big cock. The well-hung Casanova owned a skeleton key to the pussy of any girl he desired. As the two of them spun around the dance floor, Lance counted off at least 40 conquests. While the other guys had to imagine what the popular girls looked like beneath their fancy dresses, Lance knew them intimately from memory. His girlfriends came in tall and short, zaftig and petite, blonde and brunette. He knew their birthmarks, if they shaved their pussies, and what their faces looked like when they came.

In the last few months, chicks of every clique had shared his bed. He seduced cheerleaders, emo girls, scenesters, princesses, and any other female that excited him. Though the Midwestern school skewed white, Lance celebrated diversity with lovers of every race. The teenage Lothario lacked the inhibitions that restricted most students to their peer group. To him, a girl shed her social trappings as soon as he undressed her. Lance didn't care whether she hung out with the 'in' crowd, listened to boy bands, or made the school honor roll. Stripped of her clothing, she simply became a goddess to be worshipped with his tongue and cock.

"Hey," Jen whispered in his ear. "You want to go outside for a cigarette?"

"I don't smoke."

"I know that, silly."

"May I cut in?" asked a voice from behind. Lance turned around to find Luna. She wasn't upset. Just amused. In the movies, the man usually chose to cut in but Luna did not show much interest in convention. Lance bade Jen adieu.