The Insatiable Cock

Chapter Three:

Crying with relief and embarrassment in the front seat, Brett pulled down his pants and tugged out inch after inch of his enormous penis until at last the large head popped out. His hand couldn't wrap all the way around the thing, and the act of tugging it out left it hardening in his grasp, stretching out even further. It wanted desperately to be thrust into a hole and it made that known by sticking out straight and proud between his legs, the head poking past his knees and pointing straight at the gas and brake pedals.

"Oh my word," Brett gasped at the sheer size and throbbing power of the thing. "What am I going to do? What am I going to do! Wha - what?" He held a hand over his mouth in shock.

A warmth of pleasure began to spread through his pelvis and he knew what was coming. Brett didn't even have time to open the condoms before his penis started to jump up and down. He grabbed an old coffee can he had in his passenger seat for motion sick passengers and dropped it on the floor below him, kicking it with his foot until it was lined up beneath the tip of his penis, perfectly positioned to catch the endless globs of semen that dripped out of him.

He leaned forward and gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white with tension. Images of Ashley's ass crack flashed into his head as his penis flexed and jerked. At first he moaned in satisfaction, but then he came to his senses.

"No! I won't!" He shouted. "I'm not, I'm not, I'm not going to do it!"

His mind spun with how good it felt to cum, but also how sinful all of this was. He would never be seen modest again. There were no pants that could hide a beast of a penis. His sex organ would be in full view of everyone, bulging out of his pants, falling out of his gym shorts. That's assuming he could ever get it to stop ejaculating and growing. Was he going to be known as the boy who's only good for sex? Sex was the very thing he'd avoided his entire life so far, but no one would believe it. No one would believe a walking penis with a purity ring! How could he go to church? Everyone would be covering their children's eyes from the obscenity of it all. And how on earth would Taylor take this? Tears streamed down Brett's face and sweat slicked his forehead as he leaned it against the steering wheel, closed his eyes, and sobbed.

"God, don't let this happen," he whispered.

By the time he felt his penis settle down, Brett blinked open his eyes and noticed that the coffee can on the floor was more than half full of pearly white semen. His mass of meat was resting soft, warm, and pink against his leg, bending limp over the edge of the driver seat. Gathering his wits, Brett broke into the condoms and thought back on Mrs. Stockett's sex ed class from a few years ago. She'd demonstrated how to use a condom, and he vaguely remembered how she unfurled the clear sleeve over a curved banana. He copied her motions on his own penis, but was only able to get the condom stretched over the tip and a couple inches of his shaft. It would only be able to catch one of his massive loads before needing to be changed, but it was better than a coffee can.

The only plan Brett had now was to go home. His parents would still be at work, allowing him to go into his room without answering any prying questions like: "why are you walking that way?" and "what do you have in your pants?" and "why are you soaking wet?" In the quiet privacy of his room, he might even be able to distract himself long enough to stop his penis from ejaculating. When he was a block away from home, Brett felt a new tingling sensation. Glancing down between his legs, he saw his balls swell up and spread across the seat beneath him. He widened his legs with a horrified scream, inching them wider and wider as his testicles blew up.

"No! Please don't get bigger!" But nothing could stop them. They were each bigger than a tennis ball before they stopped growing. They swelled and shrank slightly, rolling in his hairy, wrinkled sack. Against his will, he imagined Ashley fondling and kissing his big fat nuts and they suddenly clenched. His penis responded in earnest, pumping thick and hard as a rock. A fountain of semen spewed out of the tip. Brett tried to ignore it and keep his eyes on the road. The condom will catch it, the condom will catch it, he repeated to himself. The latex filled and filled until a large orb of white semen hung off the end of his penis like a big white bubble.

"I'm wearing a condom, it's okay. I'm wearing a condom..." Brett's mind went back to Mrs. Stockett's hand slipping down the banana and he imagined her hand skimming down the full length of his giant meat.

"No! Stop, stop, stop thinking about it, stop thinking," Brett said to himself.

Guilty and sickened by how desperately his penis wanted to feel just a touch, he began to tear up again. The condom was barely hanging on and it would need to be changed before he had another ejaculation which could happen at any moment. Gambling on his quick driving skills, Brett spend down the last few blocks toward home, fighting Mrs. Stockett out of his mind. But it didn't matter how much he prayed, or forced himself to think about God, or Jesus, or his commitment to Taylor - his mind wouldn't let him forget about sex with anyone and anything, and once again, his penis sprayed a fountain of white goo.

Brett moaned with every jolt as he pulled into the driveway. His condom overfilled and dropped from the end of his penis, splatting into the coffee can beneath him. A few more waves passed over him, bringing the contents of the can to the top edge, threatening to spill over as the last remaining drops plinked in. Brett wiped some sweat from his forehead and pulled out another condom. Nudging the clear sleeve down his shaft as far as he could was a feat in and of itself. Then came the task of shoving his jiggling meat into his jeans that had to remain unzipped. When he was satisfied, Brett opened the car door and hobbled bow-legged to the front door as quick as he could before any neighbors could see.

He wasn't fast enough, and before he could reach the front door his penis awoke again. The beastly organ became so impossibly hard and thick that it tore right through his pants. The tip and at least twelve inches of his veiny shaft stuck straight out in the morning air and began to rock with orgasm. Within seconds the condom filled and dropped off, splashing semen across the sidewalk. Each wave brought a sharp thrust of Brett's hips and a surprised

"Oh!" Thrust. "Oh!" Thrust. "Oh!"

Brett stumbled forward with legs like jelly and knees knocking together, each step splattered large droplets of semen as he went. He put a hand on the rail along the front steps and stopped to breathe as his penis calmed, dropping loose and limp in front of him. He looked around to be sure no one saw and cautiously waddled up the steps and into the house with his penis in hand, steadying it as he walked.

Brett snuck into the bathroom and pulled down his pants so that he could breathe. His poor aching balls dropped heavy between his legs hanging halfway down his thighs. He turned this way and that way in the mirror, looking at how far his erection stuck out. It swayed to and fro as he moved, his heavy balls wobbling along with it. The feeling of air rushing across his skin sent another load through his cannon. He turned quickly and pointed his penis into the shower as thick semen unloaded over the drain. Breathing heavily with the effort, he wiped a hand across his sweaty forehead. His penis had to be at least two feet long, and Brett felt like he had a useless third leg. His eyelids drooped with fatigue. Every orgasm was taking more and more energy and even at half mast his penis was insanely heavy. He waddled to his room and collapsed on his bed, exhausted.

Chapter Four:

Brett stared up at the ceiling from his bed as he laid sprawled out on his freshly washed bedding. His balls ached. His penis ached. He wanted to lay down and sleep but as soon as he closed his eyes, his penis twitched. It sprang up and he moaned a desperate plea.

"Jesus, please! Stop this!" But nothing helped. His penis, red and hard as a rock, sprayed its load soaking the clean bed sheets. Brett could hold it back no longer. He covered his face with his hands and cried as his penis relaxed again between his legs.

"DING!" A notification on his phone brought Brett out of his stupor. It was a text from Taylor.

"Where are you? Everyone is saying you left!"

"I'm at home," Brett sniffed away his tears as he tapped away a response.

A few seconds later, Taylor replied.

"Ashley stopped me in the hallway and said you had an orgasm in class."

Brett's heart leapt into his throat and he blushed. Taylor had used the word "orgasm." Of course it wouldn't take long for word to get around the school about what happened. Everyone knew he and Taylor were celibate. News that he had grown an enormous penis and spurted a pint of semen on the social studies floor would be hot gossip. He wondered if Ashley had told Taylor because she was drawn to his penis. Did she like it? The thought of it sent Brett's penis leaping up for another round. He spread his legs wider on the bed as his penis lifted up and puked out more semen. He thought about Taylor having her own orgasm and his body tingled with pleasure. But would he be able to fit any of his penis into her pristine vagina? When his penis was done spurting, it cooled down and softened on the comforter.

"Forgive me, Lord," Brett prayed. Then, he grabbed his phone and responded to Taylor.

"Yeah. It was embarrassing."

"Maybe you should do what the other boys do and masturbate," Taylor replied.

Brett was shocked. Masturbate? But that was a sin! It was a sin to have lustful thoughts, it was a sin to touch your own penis sexually.

"You think that's okay? The Bible says it's a sin," Brett replied.

"Maybe then you wouldn't have had an orgasm in class. It's better to do it in privacy than to shame yourself in public, right?"

Maybe Taylor had a point. Still. She didn't know how large Brett's penis had grown, how he would always be shamed in public, how nobody could look at him without noticing the third leg in his pants. But the prospect of satisfying his needs enough to get himself to stop ejaculating made masturbation very tempting. So, Brett reached down between his legs, and touched his soft penis.

Immediately it hardened in his grasp and Brett was blown away by how thick it was and how hard it throbbed. How could he help but go all in? He reached out and grasped his bucking organ with one hand, then the other, and furiously began pumping his hands up and down. Jerking off. Taylor's tits flashed in his mind. What would it feel like to put his cock between those boobs? Within seconds, his penis began to bubble and squirt ropes of semen that dripped like candle wax down the length of his shaft, and over his hands that continued stroking up and down.

When the flow of semen began to slow, Brett released his hands and let his arms fall limp at his sides. His penis fell limp across his body, too, the apple-red head of it looking directly at him between his pecs, slit still seeping droplets. He sighed.

"God, I need your help," he whispered, peering up at the ceiling as if Jesus would come through the roof and magically make his penis go back to its original size.

Or maybe a busty goddess would reach down and jack him off. Brett imagined her gently stroking his cock with a curled finger and he moaned with need, hands drawn to his penis like a magnet. He splayed them across the soft under-belly of his meat. The touch and warmth of his fingers sent his sensitive penis standing upright again, twitching. He began to jerk it up and down, his sweaty cum-coated chest heaving with every breath as the semen sprayed out of him once more. It was beginning to pool in the bed sheets, but Brett didn't have the energy to care. He had lost the will to fight. Whatever this was, it was taking over him, body and mind. He waited for his penis to settle limp again, but it refused and stubbornly stayed erect instead, begging to be touched.

"Gah!" Brett grumbled in frustration and exhaustion as he wrapped his hands around his insatiable cock and began to stroke it... again. The cum flowed quickly, gathering in the wrinkles of his giant nutsack. He squeezed his thighs gently against his large, warm balls, thinking that it might suppress the cum machine attached to him. It didn't.

For hours Brett laid in bed jacking off his enormous cock, lost in a flurry of sexual fantasies. After every burst of semen, his dick remained erect, begging for more. Frustrated and sobbing, even screaming at times, he would reach out again and give it what it wanted: long, smooth strokes.

Taylor had planned to visit Brett after school in an attempt to cheer him up and talk about the incident in social studies. When she parked in his driveway and walked up to the house, she noticed something curious on the sidewalk: a little bit of plastic-looking stuff and a thick, white substance. Taylor had been sheltered most of her childhood, and only vaguely knew about sex and what it entailed. She had never seen a real condom before, nor had she ever seen semen. She shuddered, a bit unnerved by the sight of the gooey stuff and followed the puddles and splatters of it to the front door. When she entered the house, she heard loud moaning coming from Brett's bedroom...

Chapter Four:

Taylor let her footsteps fall softly as she snuck up to the door and held her breath, curious about what was going on inside. Was he masturbating like she had suggested? After a few seconds, Brett's moans subsided and Taylor breathed, letting her shoulders relax. She planned to give her boyfriend a moment to get dressed and compose himself before she opened the door, but her plan was interrupted by a loud, painted scream:

"GOD! Not again. Please! I can't stop, I can't stop! Someone help me!"

Disturbed by his plea for help, Taylor burst through the door to find Brett sitting in bed, his legs splayed out on the comforter. A large, wrinkled sack sat between them - and he was holding his enormous penis in both hands, stroking it up and down as it dribbled the white substance she had seen on the sidewalk. The shaft was as thick as a pop can and covered with veins. It was so hard it looked beet-red and the purple tip of it could have sat snugly between his pecs.

"Taylor! You shouldn't be here!" Brett's reddened face looked exhausted, his hands lazily pumped up and down until his penis jerked. "Oh, God, I'm cumming again!" He held back its movement, squeezing a little tighter so that it didn't buck out of his hands as it sprayed a fountain of white goo. All around him were pools and splatters of the stuff. His penis stopped its orgasm, but he didn't stop his hands, they continued to stroke as he sobbed and moaned in agony.

"I can't stop, I can't stop," he cried.

Taylor ran to the side of the bed. "What should I do? Should I call 911? It's all so... swollen." Her eyes scanned up and down the length of Brett's penis.

"Please, just get out, Taylor, you're going to make it worse!"

"I'm not going anywhere-"

"If you stay, I won't be able to stop thinking about your fat tits and your tight pussy. God you're so sssssexy." The offensive words came out lower than he normally would have spoken, raspier, too. It was as if it wasn't his voice at all. His penis oozed more semen and his hips thrust up and down as he squeezed his eyes closed. Taylor was horrified at the language Brett used. She felt the whole thing was inappropriate, but what could she do? Just being there to look at him naked seemed like a sin the Lord would never forgive her for.

"I'm sorry I said that, it just came out and I couldn't help it. I can't stop thinking about how goddamn sexy you are!" The word rumbled from his chest like a deep, guttural growl and his eyes widened with horror.

Taylor was in shock, too. But Brett was obviously in need of help. "I told you, I'm not going anywhere," she announced.

"But your TITS are right there in front of me and... and your pu-pu-pussy!" In his mind's eye, Brett saw the giant head of his cock emerge from between her soft boobs and he cried out, wracked with another orgasm. He tilted his head back and moaned until the semen stopped flowing, his exhausted hands continuing to beat up and down on his shaft.

"I'm so tired, Taylor, my hands can't go anymore." He dropped his weakened arms onto the bed, penis still hard and sticking straight up in front of him. Taylor stood self consciously for a moment and rubbed her purity ring deep in thought and contemplating what to do next as Brett writhed on the soaking bed sheets. He was wearing his ring, too, although it was covered in slippery semen now. Was it a coincidence that this was happening the day after they exchanged purity rings? Taylor shook the thought from her mind. It was too strange to consider, wasn't it?

Brett continued to twist against the sheets in agony with his erection bobbing tall above him. She could hardly bear to see him like this, so she immediately jumped into action.

"Like this?" She said and reached out, grabbing tightly onto Brett's penis with one hand. Brett gasped, feeling how small her hands felt against his thick and throbbing meat. He sprayed his largest load yet! Brett squirmed and screamed as the semen flowed down and joined the puddles of spunk around him. The stream slowed to a stop with Taylor wide eyed and shocked. She shyly began to move her hand up and down, blushing as she did.

"Both hands! Both hands!" Brett ordered and Taylor obeyed as he thrust up and down in her grip.

"Oh, oh, yes, keep going! I'm going to cum again!" Brett orgasmed. Again. As much as he was cumming, hands clearly weren't enough to satisfy his cock. He knew that Taylor's mouth, wet and warm wouldn't be able to take enough to satisfy him either. All he could think about was Taylor's tight, virgin pussy. That's what his dick had been craving all this time and it was right here in the room with him. When his flow slowed down, he spoke:

"Taylor, I know I gave you that purity ring," Brett said between breaths, nodding toward her finger as she beat him off some more. "But please, I'm begging you-hoooo hnng!" He arched his back as more semen dribbled out of his slit.

"No!" Taylor shook her head. "We can't have sex, we just can't."

"Taylor, it's the only thing that might stop this!"

"We made a promise, Brett. To each other and to God. What if the Lord is testing us? What if..." she paused and exhaled. "What if we're being tempted and-"

"Is this tempting you?" Brett asked, narrowing his eyes with a glazed over look. "Is my monster cock sexy to you?" His voice had lowered dramatically.

Taylor was taken aback. "No! I - I - I mean..." She watched her own hands moving up and down his veiny shaft. Nothing about it was appealing to her. "N-n-not exactly."

"What about my big balls?" He moved his thighs, jiggling his ballsack between his legs. "Do you want to suck on them?"

Taylor winced and looked away. He wasn't himself! Was this a demon? Had he been possessed?

"Oh, GOD!" Brett suddenly cried and bucked his hips as his penis leaked some more. "I'm so sorry... Taylor... I'm... sorry. I didn't mean that, I really didn't."

"It's okay, Brett. We'll figure this out -"

"Having sex is the only thing that might satisfy my penis," Brett panted.

Taylor continued tugging at his phallus as he reached out and gently touched her arm.

"It's so hard and my balls are so swollen they won't stop!" He cried.

Taylor glanced down at the balls resting on the bed. They were at least soft ball sized and she could see that beneath the wiry black hair, his flesh was reddened with all of this effort. If she didn't do this, his poor penis and balls could burst! But what about their purity? She would be marred forever and the Lord would be so displeased with them. Then again, maybe He would understand and forgive their sin... their well-intentioned sin.