Little Red Pill Ch. 01

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the Hispanic heartthrob gracefully pull himself free of the bench and climb down to his feet. I kept my eyes diverted and tried desperately to look normal and just intent on my work out.

My heart thudded as I could see him walking closer in my peripheral vision. All thought of inhaling and exhaling properly left me as I went through the motions of chest pressing, yet held my breath.

I kept staring straight ahead as he finally walked past me.

"I am working up a SWEAT today! I'm going to hit the showers." He commented in a deep and, dare I say, sultry voice, a little too loudly for him to be talking just to himself.

My heart hammered almost out my chest, but I finally exhaled as he kept walking past me towards the locker room, not looking back.

The second he was out of sight, I leaped off the machine I was on, fumbled a quick adjustment of my hard-on in my shorts and grabbed my stuff off a nearby bench before making a bee-line for the door.

In my car, I tried to breathe deep and let my racing heart slow down. What the Hell had happened in there? Why had I fixated so hard on that incline sit-up guy? I mean, I've always been able to objectively recognize a good looking guy when I saw one, and Latin Lover in there was definitely a good looking guy, but never before had I found myself personally attracted to a guy like that. Attracted? I was downright enamored with him. Here I was sitting in my car still thinking about him, with my cock still rock hard and ready to go in my shorts.

Almost sick with confusion, I started the car up and fled the gym parking lot. I spent half the ride home thinking about the strange attraction, and then the other half trying to think about anything but. My boner persisted through the entire drive.

When I arrived home, I resisted the strong urge to shed my shorts as soon as I made it through the door for a desperate wack-off session. Even if I told myself I was just getting rid of my stiffy, in the back of my head I knew what the erection was from, and I refused to indulge it.

Through some tough perseverance and a lot of mind numbing daytime TV, I let the stubborn boner fade away naturally. Judge Judy has that effect on me, apparently.

Through the rest of the day I managed to distract myself enough to remain mostly hard-on free, minus a close call or two. I was also ravenous, and tore through three helpings of the pork chop dinner my mom made after work. And after raiding the kitchen for a towering sandwich, some pickles, a bag of chips, and an entire sleeve of crackers smeared with peanut butter, I turned in for the night. But I didn't forget to pop a Little Red Pill before turning off the bedside lamp and crashing down onto my pillow.

I slept and had one of the most vivid and confusing dreams I've ever had. I was at a giant gym with rows upon rows of various exercise machines. At every machine worked out a sweat glistened completely naked man, each one more perfectly chiseled and featured than the next.

I told my dream-self not to just stand there and stare, but I didn't listen to myself. Eventually one of the nude Adonises looked up from their workout. It was the Latino hunk from this past afternoon. His eyes immediately locked on mine, and unlike in real life, I was unable to look away. He smiled and got off the bench he was working out on and approached me. I was rooted where I stood.

"You're a little overdressed for the party." He chided, with a devilish smirk.

I looked down at my dream-self and noticed I was wearing one of my typical workout outfits. I also noticed that my dream-self was sporting a bulge in my shorts that was much larger than anything I was capable of in real life. When I looked back up, Latin Bae was also looking down at my impossibly huge bulge and licking his lips.

"Let's see what you're hiding in there, big guy." He cooed.

I made no move to stop him and just watched as he reached out and into my shorts. I was stunned when he pulled out the thickest and longest cock I'd ever seen. And it was attached to me.

"Oh my God, you're so huge!" He exclaimed as he began stroking my unbelievable monster cock. I knew I was dreaming, but somehow I could feel every stroke. The Hispanic stranger needed to wrap both hands around my cock just to be able to adequately stroke it.

Dream-me couldn't believe I was getting a hand job in public, and self consciously looked around to make sure no one had noticed. That's when I saw that all the other naked men in the gym were now watching me being serviced. And they were all the same person. Hundreds of naked and chiseled Dr. Grants watched me being jerked off by the Latino gym guy. All of these Dr. Grants also had impossibly massive cocks that they had begun stroking.

"That's right, Noah. Cum with us!" They said in unison.

I looked down again to see my caramel skinned crush now absurdly trying to fit the bulbous head of my mammoth cock in his mouth. He could barely jam it in, his tongue sticking out and lapping around my tip. It felt glorious.

"Cum on Noah! Cum for us!" They begged at once. And I was about to grant their wish, whether I liked it or not. I could no longer hold it in. My cock began pulsing as I positively erupted into the hunk's mouth-

-And I jerked awake in bed, my cock still pulsing. Frantically I flung the covers off of my body as I felt myself coming down from one hell of an orgasm, a warm wetness spreading in my boxer briefs.

I lay there shocked and disoriented. I couldn't believe how real it had felt, and that I'd actually just had a wet dream. I had heard tales of them in Health Class in high school, but had never experienced one myself. The shock faded and was replaced by embarrassment as I recalled in vivid detail the content of my dream.

Suddenly disgusted with myself, I peeled off my soiled underwear and used them to wipe off my wet and sticky pubic area and penis. Annoyingly, I still somehow had a raging hard-on.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

I was about to try to Judge-Judy-think it away when an idea struck me, and I clicked on my nightstand lamp and fished the tape measure out of the drawer.

Using my tried and true technique, I took a fresh measurement while my dick was still standing at attention.

4 and 1/2 inches. In disbelief, I triple checked. Amazingly, I had grown almost another half of an inch since the previous morning.

In celebration, as well as out of necessity to relieve the pressure of a still painfully stiff erection, I hastily beat off. I tried keeping my mind a blank slate, but somewhat disconcertingly found my mind replaying snippets of my bizarrely homoerotic dream. I came a surprisingly large amount once again, and cleaned it up with the already soiled underwear I'd nocturnally emission-ed into. I collapsed naked and sweaty back down onto my tangled sheets. I practically passed out and woke up with a start later that morning, blessedly hard-on free.

When I finally got up and moving, I realized I was quite restless. I actually had a summer job that I'd started in high school as a stock clerk at the local grocery store that I had purposely called in and told that I would be returning from college for the summer a week later than I actually was. My plan had been to give myself a little break to enjoy the summer before I had to work five days a week until it was time to go back to school. Now I realized that I really had nothing else going on to occupy myself until my first shift scheduled for next week.

I instantly thought 'workout,' but then my stomach started feeling tipsy-turny as I thought about the possibility of running into the Hispanic dude I'd made eyes with yesterday. I wasn't yet willing to risk another run in with him at the gym.

I popped my morning magic pill, ate an exorbitantly large breakfast, chugged almost an entire carton of OJ and got dressed. I went for a surprisingly long jog, not usually one for doing straight cardio. I had earbuds in and tried to keep my head down, focused on nothing but the run. I did a serpentine route through the neighborhood and nearly made it back home without incident until a few streets away when a noise louder than the music in my ears caused my gaze to stray in search of the source.

In a nearby yard across the street someone was mowing their front lawn on an impressive looking standing riding mower that kind of reminded me of a bulkier more industrial looking Segway. More impressive than the mowing equipment, was the specimen riding it; a sandy haired, tall, tanned hunk, shirtless to combat the rising heat of the day, showing off sweat glistened chest and ab muscles, wearing nothing but grass stained khaki shorts, sagging enough to make me question if he had any underwear on beneath.

With an embarrassing and painful thud, my jog came to a crashing halt as I collided with the tailgate of an open bed trailer attached to a red pickup truck. I almost toppled over, but righted myself. I was so busy staring at the shirtless mower that I'd literally jogged into a parked vehicle. Embarrassed and hoping no one had noticed, I adjusted my course and, wincing through the slight pain, attempted to continue jogging on past the truck and keep going.

My heart sank as I heard the mower cut off.

"Hey, are you alright, dude?"

Too mortified to look back at the guy, I waved a hand to signal I was fine and kept on trucking. As I went by, looking anywhere but towards where the shout had come from, I noticed the open-bed trailer I ran into was full of various lawn care equipment. Then I noted that the side of the red pickup had a logo stenciled across the door and side. "Michael's Lawn Care Service." I'd run into the dude's company truck. Wanting to shrivel up and die, I picked up speed and heard the lawnmower start back up as I got a few houses away.

I ran straight home, cursing myself the whole way, internally berating myself about how strange I'd been acting. Everywhere I went, now, it seemed like I was awkwardly staring at dudes. I was even seeing them naked in my sleep.

By the time I made it to my door, I felt the beginnings of a boner stirring in my shorts as my mind kept going back to the grass cutter. Frustrated, I diligently worked the rest of the afternoon to get rid of the boner with boring daytime Judge shows and other mind numbing and wholly unsexy distractions.

I put forth a solid effort, made it through lunch and dinner and well into the evening without incident. With nothing left to bide my time I found myself plopping down on my bed, ready to turn in, when I realized it was barely even 9 o'clock and I wasn't even tired.

I made the mistake of thinking back on what I had used to do back in High School when I knew it was time to go to bed, but was still wired. Unfortunately the answer, more often than not, was masturbating.

It's like my dick read my thoughts before I'd finished thinking them, as I felt a stirring in my jockeys. With a sigh, I thought, 'if you can't beat 'em, beat it,' smirked at my own joke, and went to work.

I decided that rather than let my mind wonder while I pleasured myself, as I had been doing the last couple days, I would give myself something to focus on. That way, I could keep all the thoughts of disturbing penis dreams, hunky gym dudes, and shirtless landscapers out of my head.

I yanked my underwear partway down my thighs, exposing my little, although not quite as little as a few days ago, hard-on and brought up Pornhub incognito on my phone.

Absentmindedly stroking with one hand, I scrolled through my usual categories with the other; Amateur, Babe, College, Teen, nothing was jumping out at me and I found myself backing out of videos 10 seconds after they had started. I went to my 'in case of emergency' categories and looked for more intense scenes under Hardcore and Creampie. Glancing away from the screen for a moment, I was dismayed to see I was actually softening in my hand.

I didn't get it. I was definitely horny and strung out needing a release. Hell, it seemed like I had perpetually been that way for days now, yet nothing was grabbing my attention.

I focused back on my phone screen, and my thumb started moving and clicking things seemingly without my brain even registering the thought process. Before I even realized what was happening, I was suddenly staring again at my now rock-hard cock in my hand, moving with such speed and force that my hand was a blur and my fist was audibly smacking down into my pelvis and balls with each stroke. Wondering where the lost time had gone and how long I'd been in a haze, I took my eyes off my hand mercilessly beating my meat, and glanced back at the phone screen still in my face.

On it, two buff sweaty guys, one hairy, one smooth, were going at it like ferocious animals. The smooth hunk was on his back on an ottoman, his legs flung up in the air, one resting on the hairy dude's shoulder the other grasped in one of the beefcake's hands, while the hairy guy absolutely pounded his thick veiny cock into his hairless ass.

I was under Pornhub's Gay category without remembering how I'd wound up there. Rather than throw my phone aside in revulsion, I kept my eyes glued to it, and my hand remained a blur in my crotch. I realized the volume was on dangerously loud. If my mother wasn't all the way downstairs in her own room with the door shut, she might be able to hear as the smooth guy begged to be fucked harder.

I turned the volume down a few notches but left it on high enough to hear the hairy dude coaxing the sweaty smooth one to cum for him as he reached between the guys legs and grabbed hold of his bouncing hard cock and began jerking it even as he continued ramming into him.

I took the hairy guys invitation to cum for him as if it were directed towards me, just as the twink on the screen began squirming and moaning and shooting his load out onto his own chest and abs, I too boiled over and began spurting onto myself as my cock pulsed deliciously in my grasp.

It took me a moment to calm down. When I did, I lay panting with my spent cock in my hands, a mess on my midsection, and hardcore gay pornography playing on my phone. Suddenly disgusted with myself, I closed the browser and tossed my phone away.

I tried to make sense of how I'd gone from my usual porn standby to the uncharted territory of the gay section, but ultimately I had no explanation, and was suddenly too tired to think of one. I barely had enough energy left to clean up and pop my night time pill before I was conking out on top of my sheets.

The next morning I went through my routine, which now apparently involved scarfing down a giant breakfast, and measuring my dick. I was incredulous to come up with a measurement of 5 inches on the button. I checked it twice and then dressed for a workout.

I was so preoccupied with my excitement over apparently growing another half of an inch, that I went into the gym not even worrying about chancing a meeting with the Latin hunk I was caught ogling a few days prior. It was leg day, and I had quite a routine set and was powering through it.

It wasn't until halfway through my last set at the leg press machine that a voice next to me brought me out of my intense focus. As I wooshed out a breath and pressed my legs up, lifting the weighted bar on the machine, I glanced over towards the voice, and almost lost my concentration and barely kept myself from letting my legs give out and having the weights come crashing down.

"That's a lot of weights on there. Impressive," a deep voice grunted from the machine next to mine.

It was the hunky Latino. He wore a sleeveless tight red Under Armour training shirt and rather short blue Nike shorts that rode up even further due to his position at the leg press with his legs in the air, falling to reveal nearly all of his toned caramel thighs. He grunted as he apparently finished his set and let the weights gingerly come down to their resting position. He remained reclined back in the machine, staring over at me.

I felt my cheeks redden and looked away, pushing through the last few reps, all the while feeling his stare burn a hole through me. When I finished and let the weights come to a safe rest, I turned my head to see if I was imagining the stare that bore a hole through me. I was not. He was still looking.

"I've seen you around before... I'm Lorenzo. My friends usually call me Renzo for short."

His smile, and the dimples that were visible through his short dark stubble of a beard, made my heart flutter in my chest. I blinked dumbly back at him. He smirked and let out a soft chuckle.

"Now you're supposed to tell me your name."

"Ehrm," I cleared my throat. "N-Noah... But my friends usually call me Noah for short."

He let out another intoxicating chuckle at my lame joke, and then began getting up out of the leg press machine.

"Well, Noah, I think I'm gonna go hit the showers." He very obviously winked at me before walking off. I sat there for a moment, dumb founded.

I shook myself out of my trance and told myself to focus on finishing my workout. I spent the next several minutes wondering around the gym looking at all the equipment like it was my first time there, trying to remember what I'd meant to do next. Finally, I gave up, and found myself heading for the locker room.

I don't know if I was relieved or disappointed when Lorenzo wasn't there when I entered the locker room. The only other person in the main locker area was an old guy sitting on the bench in front of an open locker finishing tying his shoes. He finished, gathered his stuff and headed for the exit. I asked myself one more time what exactly I was expecting to find in here, and decided to quickly change out of my sweaty workout clothes and get out of there.

I had gotten my locker open, pulled my change of clothes out and pulled off my shirt when I was startled by a voice behind me.

"I wasn't sure if you were joining me or not."

My heart leaped in my throat as I turned around. Standing across the main locker room floor from me, just inside the opening into the showers area, was Lorenzo. He wore nothing but a little white towel wrapped low enough around his waist to show off the tantalizing V at his pelvis. His short hair was wet and tousled and the rest of his tanned tone skin glistened as he had apparently just finished showering off. He had a shortly trimmed patch of hair between his pecs that ran a trail down over his defined abs and disappeared into the towel. I stared for long moments, eventually reminding myself to swallow the buildup of saliva in my mouth. He smiled a devilish smirk.

"You coming or what?" And then he turned and headed back around the corner into the shower area.

It was as if I had lost control of my own body as I left my locker hanging open and my shirt and change of clothes strewn about on the bench, and followed Lorenzo around the corner without a thought. The shower area was sectioned off into separate little curtained off shower compartments. Just inside each curtain was a small area with a bench, and then beyond that, a small tiled shower stall. It was in one of these, just beyond an open curtain, that Renzo waited for me.

Still feeling not-in-control of my own movements, I stepped inside the stall with him, and he reached over and pulled the curtain closed behind us. We stood mere inches apart. I gulped again and found my eyes roving up and down his glistening body.

"See anything you like?" He asked.

Without responding, suddenly I was reaching out and rubbing a hand over one of his hard pecs. Jesus Christ, what was I doing? I ran my hand down through the short wet hair trail and let my fingers run over his 6 pack. Why couldn't I stop myself?

I started running my hand back up towards his chest when he reached up and grabbed my wrist, stopping my hand's ascent. We locked eyes and he guided my hand back down over his abs, past them, and then down into the towel. My invading hand broke the loose knot holding it in place, and the towel dropped to the floor. He guided my hand over very shortly trimmed pubic hair and then I was touching his semi-hard and rapidly growing cock.