The Insatiable Cock

Chapter One:

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!

Brett rolled over and turned off his alarm clock. His eyes flew open. Something was wrong. In a panic he reached under his covers and patted at the sheets underneath him. Wet. Sticky. Horrified, he pulled his hand away and looked at it, turning it over once, twice. White fluid covered his fingers. Semen? His heart thumped wildly against his chest.

For the first time in his life, Brett had a wet dream. This must have meant that his mind conjured up some sexual fantasy while he was sleeping. But he was a Christian and never exposed himself to sex at all. He barely even had the nerve to go to the beach and see all the exposed women in their bikinis. In fact, he only rarely had erections at all and they were always in the morning when he had to pee. How could something so sickening happen to him?

When he sat up, he cringed feeling the cold fluid on his skin. As he glanced over at the night stand, Brett saw the purity ring his girlfriend Taylor had given to him after school just the day before. It was a plain silver band that reflected the neon green light of the numbers on his digital alarm clock. He'd given Taylor one, too: a large cubic zirconia and an engraved heart on the gold band. She looked radiant there in the school yard, gazing at her new ring. Brett slid his on, too.

"I got your ring from the Christian Book Store downtown," she said. "They had a new employee there named Rachael. She told me her testimony - all about how she had converted to Christianity from Paganism and it was so moving! She said she got her boyfriend one of these rings, too, and their relationship has improved ever since."

"That's funny," Brett had said. "I got your ring from the same place and Rachael told me the same thing!"

Taylor beamed. "I'm so glad we could exchange these," she said, slipping hers onto her ring finger. It fit perfectly. "It's a sign of our commitment to each other and to God."

And Brett was committed. This whole sex thing wasn't going to happen at all until he and Taylor had signed that piece of paper and made their promises before God - "til death do us part." Brett snatched up the ring and put it on his finger, determined to never again have this happen. As he bunched up his sticky sheets and blanket, he prayed silently to himself:

"God, forgive me for my lustful thoughts!"

He threw his bedding into the washer, hoping this wouldn't make him too late for his first class of the day. Explaining to his mom why his bedding was in the wash didn't have to mean admitting he had ejaculated all over the sheets. He was too ashamed to tell his mom what had really happened, so a half-truth would have to do. She was sitting at the kitchen table pouring over her leather-bound planner as he rushed across the laminate floor, around the kitchen island, and toward the front door.

"I spilled something on my sheets, so they're in the wash," he said hurriedly. Thankfully, she didn't question him, she was too busy with her nose in a calendar.

"Okay, sweetie! Have a great day. Oh, and don't forget that your father and I are coming home late tonight. We have that couple's Bible study that we're going to," she said.

"Alright." Brett closed the door behind him with a sigh of relief and drove down the street toward Legion High School.

Taylor was mingling with a group of her girlfriends in front of the school doors. She had on a modest denim jumper, and long dirty blonde hair pulled back into a frizzy french braid.

"Hi, Brett!" She called when she saw him and waved exaggeratedly. Brett could see her new purity ring glistening on her finger in the morning sunshine.

"Sorry I can't talk right now, Taylor," he said as he approached the group of girls. "I'm going to be late for social studies." He reached out to squeeze Taylor's hand. It was a loving gesture meant to assure her that they were okay and would meet up later, but the mere touch of Brett's fingers against Taylor's skin made something stir in his pants. His penis quickly hardened and pressed against his zipper, and his cheeks began to grow hot with embarrassment. He couldn't let Taylor see how flustered he was!

Brett spun away with his back to the group and swung off his backpack. He held it in front of his crotch as he walked into the school and down the hall toward the social studies classroom. What had gotten into him? He shook his head slightly, breathed deep, tensed his shoulders, anything to shake this sickening sexual thing that his body was doing. But he still had a raging erection as he walked into the classroom and took his seat at a desk in the back.

Ashley Meyers was getting ready at her desk, too. She tossed her long blonde hair and bent over as she arranged her books on the surface of her desk. Her breasts hung and swayed as she tucked her hair behind her ear. Brett could feel his manhood get even harder. He re-adjusted his thighs to ease the discomfort, but his balls felt swollen and everything between his legs seemed so pinched and confined.

When Ashley sat down, her tight shirt rode up and the crack of her butt was hanging out of her light wash shorts. An image of his penis buried between her round, fleshy butt cheeks flashed into Brett's mind. His hips jostled, his penis suddenly lurched, and a warm, sticky fluid pooled in his underwear.

"Oh, no," Brett whispered.

He glanced around the room to see if anybody noticed. The other students were minding their own business, unpacking their backpacks, sharpening pencils. Nobody had paid any attention. Brett breathed a sigh of relief, but he felt sick to his stomach and had to get out of class as quickly as possible. He looked around the room a few times, then jumped out of his seat, placed his backpack in front of his crotch once again, and rushed awkwardly down the hall to the nearest bathroom as semen dripped slowly down his leg.

When Brett locked himself in a stall, he pulled down his pants to see his small, softened penis covered with thick white fluid. A quick prayer of forgiveness crossed his mind as he grabbed some toilet paper to dry his genitals and underwear.

"God, forgive me. I'll never look at Ashley Meyer again!"

But by the time he was done getting himself dried up, his penis had already started to stand erect again, inching out to what had to be a full six inches.

"What gives?" He groaned. Eighteen years old and he had never had a lustful wet dream, rarely had an erection, and how he'd ejaculated twice and was on his third erection of the day! Brett hadn't really seen his penis fully erect before and the sight of it sticking out of his body, veiny and throbbing like it was reaching out for something... well, it sickened him. This function was only to be seen and enjoyed by his future wife in the marriage bed. Now? Now it stood up in all its glory in the stall of the boy's bathroom. It seemed so big. Had he always been this size?

The longer he stood there looking at it, the harder it seemed to get until he found himself with the unconscious desire to thrust, and thrust, and thrust. He needed to bury his penis somewhere... anywhere. Ashley Meyer's breasts suddenly popped into his mind and he tried to fight the image off. He tried to think of God instead, of purity, of his promise to Taylor, hoping that it would quell the sexual need. It didn't seem to work. His penis throbbed harder than ever and he continued to thrust, his breathing became heavier, faster. Suddenly, without even touching his penis, it began to spurt again. Brett frantically bent over the toilet and pointed his penis down as ropy sprays of semen spewed out of the tip and splattered into the toilet water. Countless waves of pleasure had broken over him, each one producing a seemingly impossible amount of semen that floated in the toilet bowl. It was much more than he'd found in his bed that morning.

Panting and sweating, Brett rocked back onto his feet and peered down at his penis which relaxed with the rest of him. It softened and hung limp, but to Brett's horror, it didn't shrink. What had been a six inch long erection, was now a six inch long flaccid penis and a pair of swollen testicles. He held a hand over his mouth, looking at it wide-eyed with tears stinging at the backs of his eyes.

"God, I don't know what's happening but please deliver me from these sinful thoughts!"

Waiting for his penis to shrink proved futile. After ten minutes of silent and frantic prayer, he hadn't lost a single centimeter of mass. His penis was still long and hefty. All he could do now was pray some more and return to class. Brett flushed his ejaculation down the toilet and pulled his pants back on, carefully stuffing his large penis down the left leg of his underwear. He took a deep breath and unlocked the stall door, but the moment he stepped out his penis jerked.

"No," Brett muttered, refusing to let this continue. His penis was having none of it, though. It pushed out against his jeans, twitching with need, and the bad thoughts began to creep back into his mind. Thoughts of how good it would feel to put his penis somewhere wet and warm, but Brett shoved them out of his head. No way was he going to let his body cause him to sin like this. Sex was only meant for marriage and he was saving himself for Taylor! He touched his purity ring as a reminder and stepped forward to leave the bathroom. Maybe if he went back to social studies his erection would go down. The distraction might work, right? But as soon as he pushed open the bathroom door, he felt a strong urge to thrust his hips and penetrate something. In a panic, Brett ran right back into the bathroom, shut himself into the stall, yanked down his pants, and leaned with his palms against the back wall. His throbbing seven inch erection was completely untouched as it spurt a load of semen into the toilet.

Brett moaned softly once, but put a hand over his mouth to silence himself. His stomach twisted at what was coming out of his mouth. How could he let himself give in? His penis settled and softened, hanging a good seven inches limp and jiggling as it dripped its last drops of semen. Still leaning against the wall over the toilet that was full of even more ejaculate than his last orgasm produced, Brett teared up in shame.

"God, please don't let this keep happening!" He prayed in a whisper.

How could he become aroused out of nowhere for no reason? How was he supposed to control this? Standing straight once again, Brett hiked up his pants, carefully packing his extra-large penis into his jeans. He cringed as he struggled to zip them up around his fleshy bulge. The denim squeezed tight and unforgiving against his genitals. When he opened the stall door he saw in the mirror that his bulge was obscenely large. It was obvious that the mound between his legs was struggling to be contained. Everyone was going to think he was stuffing his pants! Sure, all of the other boys in the school would be envious of a sudden growth spurt like this, but Brett was a modest boy. He never wanted a big penis, what was the point? So long as his wife was happy with it, that's what mattered, right? He was sworn to celibacy until marriage, he didn't need a penis that would have been fitting on a porn star or something. Although, I guess that's what he had now and he would have to live with it. He only hoped that it wouldn't grow any bigger.

Chapter Two:

Brett walked slowly and carefully back to social studies, determined to keep his penis from getting hard. He took his seat at his desk and noticed that his big, low-hanging testicles sat down before his butt did. He spread his thighs a bit wider than usual to accommodate their size, but tried not to dwell on the sensation of them resting on the chair beneath him.

Ashley leaned back and pulled her hair into a ponytail, but Brett refused to look at her. Instead, he focused intensely on the whiteboard and Mrs. Sherill who crossed back and forth in front of it. As she reached up to write something on the board, and then let her arm drop loose, Mrs. Sherill's small breasts bounced once.

Brett felt his penis suddenly fill out and swell up, straining against his jeans. No, no, no! He pleaded with his mind not to think of Mrs. Sherill's breasts, with his penis not to grow any more, and he begged his balls not to empty right then and there. But the tide of sexual desire was quickly rising and he couldn't fight against it. A vivid fantasy of his dick between Mrs. Sherill's tits flooded into his mind, and all Brett could do is put a hand over the inside leg of his jeans where the tip of his penis was protruding and prepare to stop up the semen that was about to spill out. The soft touch of his hand sent him over the edge. He closed his eyes and winced as his penis bucked and twitched in his pants, releasing spray after spray of gooey white semen that soaked through the denim and poured down his leg. Brett held his breath, holding back a barrage of pleasurable moans that wanted to escape his lips.

When the fog in his mind cleared, Brett self consciously blinked open his eyes and looked around, once again hoping that nobody noticed his predicament. A couple of students sitting parallel to him eyed him curiously, but most of the class seemed to be oblivious. He wiped his damp hand on his shirt and could feel his penis settling, but it didn't shrink. In fact, it seemed thicker than ever and nearly reached his knee. Forget stuffing with a rolled sock, everyone at school was going to think he had a shoved a summer sausage in his pants!

"I'm sorry, Lord," he prayed silently, "Please forgive me for my lust, I didn't mean to think of Mrs. Sherill like that!"

When would the growing stop? Was it hormones? A growth spurt? Maybe it was because he had never masturbated before in his life and it was all coming out at once. Regardless, it felt to Brett like his penis had a mind of its own, and it was apparently out for revenge, trying to get attention after years of neglect. Well, he was paying attention now, and so would everyone else. Wait... Brett touched his purity ring that he had just gotten yesterday. Could there be something to this? Maybe it's a test from God to see if he can stay strong in the face of temptation?

"No," Brett thought. "That's ridiculous."

But even if he could abstain, what would Taylor think on their wedding night when they both make love for the first time in the sight of God? He imagined that night in the future, dropping his underwear and a monster penis springing out - so much meat that it couldn't even be squeezed into Taylor's perfect virgin vagina. Would she throw up at the sight of it?

Suddenly, his penis sprung back to life and Brett was ripped out of the fantasy. Mrs. Sherill was tell the class to: "open to page 453" as Brett's penis grew another inch and eeked out a few more spurts of semen. He rolled his eyes back and made a sexual moan under his breath, but quieted himself. Thankfully, the other students were too busy flipping pages to hear him.

Enough was enough. He couldn't keep orgasming in the middle of social studies or it wouldn't be long before all the semen running down his leg puddled up under his desk. Placing his backpack over his crotch, he maneuvered around the desks on his way toward the door. His legs were splayed a bit wider than usual, and he walked with an awkward waddle.

"Excuse me, Brett?" Mrs. Sherill asked.

Brett turned to find all eyes on him. His cheeks flushed bright red.

"Yes?"

"Are you leaving?"

"I... I need to go get something out of my locker," he said.

"And why are you taking your backpack with you?"

Brett peered down at his hands grasping onto the handle of his backpack: the only thing that was covering his huge wet bulge. He had no answer for her.

"Leave the backpack here," she said, pointing to his desk. "Go get what you need, but I need to be sure that you're going to come back to class. Too many students playing hookey lately!" She said sternly, eyeing the rest of the class over her glasses.

The other students shifted in their seats nervously.

Brett was so mortified he thought his heart would give out! How could he walk out of here with a bulging penis hanging to his knee, barely being contained in his pants? Not to mention the semen stain seeping through his jeans in plain view. Mrs. Sherill raised an eyebrow at him as he contemplated what to do.

"Brett? Leave the backpack here!" Mrs. Sherill ordered. Seeing no other option, Brett waddled back to his desk, dropped his backpack on the floor, and quickly turned to walk out with his hands cautiously held in front of his crotch. His penis had definitely outgrown his "crotch area," and his hands were too small to cover all of it. Mrs. Sherill began once again writing on the white board, and Brett was nearly free! Almost there, almost there. Out of the corner of his eye, Brett caught sight of Mrs. Sherill's breast bouncing once more as she scribbled something. Oh, no. His penis jolted so suddenly that it brought him to his knees. The spongey head of it was pinched between the floor and his knee as he fell, and he rolled onto his butt with a pained "OUCH!"

Everyone was looking at him now. Ashley even scooted her chair back and jumped up to help, until she noticed the enormous, pulsating phallus that was pressing against Brett's jeans. It was squeezed in so tight that it looked as though it would rip out at any given moment! Brett squirmed on the floor, feeling the heat of his penis emanating against his leg, his testicles inflating. He reached out to rub the hurt out of his aching tip, but the touch sent his penis clenching and releasing a series of waves that spewed enough semen to fill a Big Gulp. It oozed out of his already saturated jeans and spilled out of his pant leg and into his shoes, dripping onto the floor. He closed his eyes and moaned, breathing heavily through the orgasm.

The onlookers burst into a horrified chorus.

"Oh my god!"

"Ew!"

"Gross!"

"What is that?"

"That's disgusting!"

They were right. Brett knew it was gross, it sickened him as much as it did them. His manhood had grown disgustingly huge and all it wanted was sex. Worst of all, he couldn't control his sexual thoughts. As the orgasm subsided his penis once again softened, but it didn't shrink. The head was as big as an apple and a small tear in the knee of his jeans began to form as the denim stretched around his manhood. The deep reddish-purple of his penis flesh pushed through and he winced with pain. Ashley was flabbergasted as she stared at the spectacle, hand over her mouth. They say that girls like big penises, right? Brett assumed every boy wanted a big one, but the girls in the class looked like they wanted to throw up.

"Get to the nurse, Brett!" Mrs. Sherill shrieked. Brett couldn't bear to face the school nurse with this problem, but a brilliant idea crept into his head. Charlie was sitting at the nearest desk, trying to look away from Brett and the mess of ejaculate he had dribbled on the floor. He was the school jock, the biggest sleazeball of all the guys here. Brett sighed, then reached out and snatched up Charlie's backpack.

"Hey, man, get your grubby paws off my shit!" Charlie called. He jumped up and tried to yank the backpack out of Brett's grasp, but Brett jammed his hand into the pocket and began fishing around.

"I said get your cum-covered freakazoid-dicked hands out of my backpack, Brett!"

At last Brett found what he was looking for: a pack of condoms. He grabbed them, left the backpack and bolted out the door as fast as he could, which wasn't very fast. The size of his penis was nearly crippling him as every step caused his pants to squeeze and pinch his junk. It took a great deal of waddling and adjusting to finally make it out to the parking lot and into the privacy of his car.