Magic Cock Pt. 01

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Doug's coworker has a new tool to get exactly what he wants.
2k words
4.18
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Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 08/03/2019
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"You asked to see me, Sam?"

"I did, Doug, come on in."

Samson Berkeley doesn't technically outrank me, but his office has always been bigger than mine, and, well, he sure likes to act like my supervisor sometimes. He'd recently moved into a corner office, and I assumed he just wanted to gloat. The sunshine streaming in the floor-to-ceiling windows illuminated the mahogany of his walls, and the cherry wood of his desk, some 10 feet away from me. Like I said, big office.

"And close the door."

He was leaning against his desk in a dark suit, and I tried to read his expression. He wasn't angry. Kind of ... smug?

After a moment, I shut the door. "Is - is everything all right?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, just a precaution. This is a secret. I want to show you something."

He stood, and without warning, started to pull down his zipper. My eyebrows went up in shock but before I had managed more than "Wh—" he had reached in, fumbled around in his pants, and pulled out his cock.

It flopped out, like a tube sock full of sand. It was at least 10 inches long and it was almost impossibly thick, even in its semi-limp form. It lay along his pant leg like the trunk of a baby elephant. My noises of disbelief or protest died away in my throat as I stared at it.

"Well I'll be damned, it works on you too ..."

His voice seemed to come from far away. My focus was fully on this cock. His phallus was ... majestic, it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Its skin was darker than I would have expected - several shades darker than Sam's hands or face. I'd never given a thought to another man's cock, but now, this incredible piece of meat filled my vision, making everything else in my periphery fade.

*... just the weirdest thing buddy just last week i was walking through the flower district ... *

I was barely listening. All I could see, all I could hear, all I could feel was that magnificent cock. It was eclipsing all my senses, so that hearing was fading away, and my heart thudding in my chest was all I could feel and somehow, god help me, I could almost taste it on my tongue.

*... super suggestible too supposedly so of course i had to try it out ...*

As I watched, fascinated, it grew, thickening and hardening and rising up to greet me. I was entranced. I couldn't take my eyes off the bulbous head emerging from the foreskin. With my eyes, I traced the veins throbbing along its length, licking my lips.

*... absolute horse cock and well you can see for yourself ...*

Horse cock? Yes omigod I'd visited a farm once on some school trip and seen a horse cock. It was ridiculous and I was a little grossed out, and we kids all laughed about it. But I wasn't laughing now.

"Why don't you get on your knees, you'll be able to look at it better."

I sank to my knees, grateful for the suggestion, for the permission. I inched closer, staring at it, captivated. I realized distantly that my mouth had been hanging open for a while, when I felt the collected drool starting to spill over my lips.

He put a hand under it, gently caressing the taut skin along the undershaft, and pointing it at me.

"You want to touch it?"

I nodded, raptly, without taking my eyes off it. I'd been thinking exactly that, watching his hand stroking it. What warm velvet must it feel like?

"You want to kiss it?"

I licked my lips. Took a deep breath. But my hesitation was really all in the deepest part of my mind, something holding me back, or wishing it could hold me back. But that tiny spark was powerless - my mouth, my heart, my entire body, was primed for nothing else.

I nodded.

"Well come and get it."

The thick, fat head touched my lips, and I swooned, my eyes closed. My mind stilled. It pressed into my mouth, and my tongue touched its sensitive dark skin, tasted its nectar. I had never had something so wonderful in my mouth. I had never been happier, or more at peace.

Time had no meaning. I knelt there in my suit and tie, the miraculous cock moving slowly in and out of my mouth, for I don't know how long. I didn't care. I was lost in worship. My cock hardened in my pants, throbbed without my touch. I wrapped one hand around Samson's shaft, then both, stroking and squeezing, silently begging to take more into my throat, beyond my throat. His pleasure was my pleasure. He moaned, and I came in my shorts. Pulse after pulse, my cock exploded, drained, but it was happening far away. My entire mind, my entire being, was focused on this incredible piece of meat and this amazing man who owned it. Who, for the moment, owned me.

He held my head in his hands and pressed into me, his ass cheeks squeezing, and he flooded his essence into me. I swallowed, and swallowed again, then choked, and as it continued to throb and spurt, his cum ran out of my mouth, tangling in my beard and dripping onto the carpet.

The magic cock softened, and I sucked every last drop out of it that I could, until I fell back on the office floor, exhausted. I had a belly full of his delicious cum, and I knew I would never be the same again.

I was still mesmerized by the sight of his dusky thick cock, dripping, shrinking, but still long and powerful. He had left it dangling outside of his dress pants, and I watched it, as I had stared at nothing else since it appeared.

"One more thing, buddy," said Sam. "You're going to invite me over for dinner tomorrow night. I can't wait to properly meet your wife. Say yes sir."

"Yes sir," I whispered dazedly to the cock.

"Excellent. OK, stand up."

I stood again, and Samson gripped his sausage, giving it one last squeeze, and stuffed it back into his pants.

I blinked. What were we talking about?

"It's a hell of an office," I said.

"Well, you know," he said, and he grinned. "I've been having a good month."

Man, my knees were suddenly achey. Was I getting old? I resisted the impulse to massage them - I'd wait til I got back to my desk. I turned to go, but there was the nagging feeling I was forgetting something ...

Oh yeah!

"Listen, Sam, I was just wondering - what are you doing tomorrow night? I was hoping to have you over sometime to share my wife's cooking."

"That would be terrific, Doug, I appreciate that. I'd love to." I nodded, and smiled. "Oh, and Doug?"

"Yeah?"

"You got something in your beard." He gestured to me, then touched his face to indicate where. "You saving that for later?" he chuckled.

"Haha, I guess so."

"Better go wash up," Samson said. "OK, thanks for coming by."

I headed to the bathroom, tasting my tongue, smacking my lips thoughtfully. Better brush my teeth while I was at it. What the heck had I had for lunch?

***

That evening, I told my wife we were having company the next night. She wasn't thrilled about it, but she wasn't against it either. We just rarely invited people over.

"I guess I can do the roast. I've been meaning to cook that up anyway, and it should be enough for 4. No, just three, because I don't think Aaron will be home..."

"Yeah, I was just gonna ask. He's not home for dinner tonight either, is he?"

"Nope, just the two of us," she said, as I set the table. "It's this new job of his, they've got him working the late shift too many nights. It's not good for a boy his age."

"He is 19 ..."

"That's what I mean, he's only 19!"

I shrugged. We didn't need to rehash that conversation.

The microwave dinged with the leftovers while I got the plates. "... Wait," she said. "Samson. I remember him, right? Met him at the company Christmas party."

"You did! That's the guy."

"He seemed kinda smarmy. Nice enough guy, though, I guess. He was friendly."

"He was friendly to *you*," I kidded her. "As I recall, he couldn't take his eyes off you."

"Oh stop," she giggled, as I cornered her between the sink and the stove.

I held her in my arms. "And I can't say I blame him. You were the most beautiful woman there."

We kissed. She smiled at me, a sparkle in her eye. I was getting lucky tonight.

Then her brow creased. "Wait, so ... why did you invite him for dinner?"

I opened my mouth, then just blinked at her for a moment. "I don't, uh ..." I started, then shrugged. "I just wanted to get to know him better. And show off my wife's cooking."

"Uh huh," she said.

"Sam has a bigger office and a better car than me, and he's always showing off in little ways," I said. "I've really only got one way to show off to him, one thing I can brag about."

I kissed her nose.

"I've only got one thing that he wishes he had ... and that's you."

***

The next evening, the table was set for company, with the good plates and an actual tablecloth and everything, by the time Sam and I walked in.

"Hi honey," my wife called from the kitchen, and I heard the oven door slam. "The roast will be ready in a few minutes. Would you guys like a drink?" she added, coming into the living room.

"I'll get it," I said. "You remember Samson Berkeley?"

"Mrs. Banning," he nodded, a twinkle in his eye, as he took her hand.

"Oh, please, call me Marilyn."

He smiled at her, a somewhat wolfish smile, a little ... smug? And I suddenly got prickles on the back of my neck. I finished mixing the drinks, but I was suddenly feeling ... nervous, for some reason.

Dinner was pleasant, and somewhat uneventful. Sam regaled us with stories about fishing trips and business conquests, usually involving him being the hero or "winning" in some way, because that was important to him ... but he told them in a funny way, so it was all right. He complimented my wife's cooking three times, and complimented her looks five times. Not that I was counting or anything.

We adjourned to the living room with another round of drinks. We were feeling a little loose, a little tipsy, and Sam was making Marilyn laugh quite a bit. Leaning into her, giving her a wink - just paying her a lot of attention. It was fine, though. Just fine. I laughed along, too, but I watched them like a hawk.

"Oh that reminds me," he suddenly said, springing to his feet. "I wanted to show you something."

"What?"

"A magic trick!"

We hooted and jeered. Oh, we were having a great time.

"No really ... watch this. First, it involves my belt." He unbuckled his belt, then whipped it through the belt loops with a flourish. We applauded.

"Then ... I take down my pants ... like this ..." He unbuttoned, unzipped, then held his waistband - and dropped.

His pants fell to his ankles.

We cheered, and laughed, then ... my wife and I both fell silent.

He wasn't wearing any underwear. His long, thick, beautiful cock dangled between his legs like a kielbasa hanging in a shop window. I could feel my mind slowing down as my focus zoomed in on that sausage and everything else blurred out. I could hear my wife's giggling dying away as she, too, stared.

"Man," came Sam's voice from somewhere above, "I never get tired of that."

***

To be continued!

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2 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 4 years ago
Hmmm ....

Are you into big cocks, Chloe? If you are kind of hopelessly fixated on that, it’s hot. Otherwise, I kind of agree with the previous reviewer.

SugarDaddyDomSugarDaddyDomover 4 years ago

Having an asshole magically abuse people just isn't my thing. Not nearly as hot as your other work.

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