Them

"You have no control over it?"

"Not zero-nada-none. There's some predictability, but there are also some surprises, so there are times when it's like it has a mind of its own."

"How so? Explain that to me."

The steam rose around us with a quiet hiss. I said, "Unexplainable erections. Shrinking when it isn't even cold. Things like that."

"How much does it shrink?"

"Depends on the dick, I guess."

"What about balls? What are they like?"

"Annoying. I don't know if you're aware of this, but the scrotum kind of moves on its own, tightening or expanding. Because your nuts are in there, it moves your balls around. Plus, we're talking about two super-sensitive parts of the body, and they're out there, hanging and exposed. I think it's a bit of a design flaw."

She laughed. "What?"

"Should have been inside the body and protected. Think about the rib cage protecting the heart and lungs, the cranium protecting the brain, and our sole means of reproducing the species is hanging out there like a target? Come on!"

"So, you don't like having a cock and balls?"

"No-no-no-no-no. I didn't say that."

"So what's to like? Everything you've said has been negative."

"Pissing's easy. Sex is great. I can't speak to the female side, but it's nice to have the tool that plugs in."

"Is it--," she paused, thinking about her words. "Is it better to have a big one?"

"Big when soft or big erect or big both?"

She shrugged. "You tell me."

"Have you ever heard the little saying 'show-er or grower?'"

She shook her head. "What does it mean?"

"It means some people think there are two types of cocks--ones that show and ones that grow. Show-ers are biggish when they're not hard, and according to this stereotype, they don't grow much when they get hard. Growers aren't much to look at when they're soft, but they grow a lot when they become erect."

"Which do you prefer?"

I grimaced. "Hunter, the phrasing of your question suggests that I have preferences about other men's dicks, and I absolutely do not. I could not care less."

Rolling her eyes, she said, "I mean, what are the advantages and disadvantages?"

"Better," I acknowledged with a sigh. "I suppose the advantage to being a show-er is that, for anyone interested in checking you out down there, you can wear clothing tight in the crotch--speedos or tight jeans or whatever--and onlookers might be impressed."

"Any disadvantage?"

"I suppose if you're a show-er, you don't grow all that much. So, what you see is basically what you get."

"What about growers?"

I said, "Can't wear tight clothes unless you don't care, but like I said, once you get hard, then your woman--partner--sees that big difference, maybe like an exciting secret."

"Which one should I do?"

"Do you get a choice?"

She shrugged. "Maybe."

"I guess I would be a grower--."

"Because that's what you are," Hunter said without an inkling of self-doubt.

I stared at her, blinking.

She saw my reaction, and her confidence vanished. She hurriedly said, "I'm sorry. It's none of my business. I didn't mean to--."

"Forget it, Hunter. It's okay."

"I'm so sorry. It was an invasion of your privacy--."

"Whatever," I interrupted. "So what? So, I'm a grower. Yes."

"Forgive me?" she asked.

I nodded. "Did you--check me out or something when I didn't know?"

"No!" she about hollered. "No. I just guessed because most people tend to like what they already are."

"Ah."

"But, why should I be a grower, too? I want to know."

"Well," I said, "it's kind of the element of surprise. I'm not interested in wearing clothes that are tight in the crotch. Doesn't work for my balls, and it's not my style. So, it's kind of nice to see a woman's reaction to the growth--their delighted surprise. She thinks she knows, and then, suddenly, she seems pleased and--and excited, let's say--at the growth, the difference."

"Are you really big?"

"Hunter--."

"I don't mean to--I'm just curious, and you're being so honest right now. I love it."

I said, "I'm not really big; I'm not really small. I don't know."

She nodded, understanding, I guessed. Then, she asked, "Why don't you like tight clothes on your balls?"

"Mine are bigger. I won't lie about it. If I could change something about myself without affecting anything else, I would make my balls smaller--so long as it didn't change my sex drive and testosterone and so on. I would."

"How big are your balls?"

I raised my eyebrows.

"I mean--should I get small ones?" she asked.

"There's trade-offs, Hunter. Big ones get in the way. They're a big, super-sensitive target. Small ones, I imagine, hide nicely. And it never seemed to me that women--people, sorry--were ever that interested in balls. Maybe some people are. I've never gotten with a chick who was super into balls. They're always an afterthought."

"I hear they're soft. Is that what they feel like?"

The heating element hissed again. Steam rose around us.

I stood and pulled down my shorts and underwear, slipping them over my feet and completely off. I was naked.

"What are you--? Wait!"

"Too late. They're gone," I said.

She had turned away.

I said, "Have a look. I don't care. Check out the product before you buy."

Her eyes came back--not to my crotch but my face. They were big and surprised and, I felt, excited. She said, "You should put on your shorts. My dad--."

"--Won't ever know," I interrupted. "Is it helpful seeing it in real life?"

She looked while I stood. She seemed terrified and transported at the same time. It was almost as if she were inside a lion's cage, and the magnificent beast was stirring in its sleep. Her big eyes riveted to my cock. Her lower lip hung open.

She scooted forward on the bench. She gulped and looked at me. "It's amazing," she whispered, and then her gaze returned to my cock.

Just then, it occurred to me that I could make a kind of this-for-that deal with her by asking her to take off her robe and maybe even whatever was underneath it. I wanted to see her body. But, something stopped me--something about her that I'd learned but couldn't quite name.

Still, she was so transfixed by my nakedness that I decided to push in a different direction. "You haven't seen one like this before?" I asked.

She shook her head silently.

I thought, There it is--the answer. She's never been with a man.

More hissing steam filled the room, and I realized we had been in the sauna plenty long enough. I said, "Hunter, if you want to see it change on its own, we can shut this off and go into the air conditioning. The cool air will make it--adjust itself."

"Can we?"

I nodded. "I've been in here long enough."

"Yeah."

I grabbed my towel and wiped my brow.

As I began to bend down to get my shorts and underwear, Hunter said, "Let me." She picked them up. We left the sauna together.

She was behind me, and as we walked to the patio door, I glanced back. Hunter had just then sniffed my underwear.

She saw me. Stopping, she snatched down the wad of clothes and said, "I didn't--." She couldn't finish. Her face went pink.

Smiling gently, I said, "I don't care, Hunter. You're only learning. Nothing wrong or embarrassing about that, but if you're really interested, you can smell the real thing when we get inside."

"You'd let me--?"

"Come on."

She followed me inside.

I dried my body with the towel, laid it on the couch, and sat down. "It doesn't," I said, "take long for it to start reacting to air temperature. Come closer and watch."

"You really don't care?"

I shrugged. "If it helps you, why should I care?"

"Maria and my Dad--."

"They'll only find out if you--."

She cut me off with a gasp. Her eyes fixed on my cock. I watched it, too. The cool air was tightening things up. Without taking her eyes from my crotch, Hunter sat on the coffee table across from me. "Do you feel that--the changes?" she asked in a low murmur.

"A little bit. You kind of get used to it to where you might not notice--like living near a train crossing and not noticing the horn blasts after a while."

"It was so loose and--and floppy--in the sauna and now it's becoming--I don't know--not hard, but--."

"Not hard."

"No," she said, looking at me. When her eyes returned to my cock, she asked if it was finished.

"I think so."

"Could it scrunch up even more?"

I nodded. "Make it colder, and yes."

Hunter moved closer a fraction. She swallowed and said, "Outside you said you wouldn't mind if I--."

"Go ahead."

"I know it's weird. I'm weird."

"It's cool, Hunter. I'm not judging."

She knelt on the floor, put her hands on my knees, leaned between them, and took a long whiff as she pushed herself away.

Smiling, I said, "Did that actually work?"

"No," she said, smiling shyly.

"You can get closer."

Scooting between my legs, she bent down to my cock.

Instantly I turned away. I tried to ignore how her little hands softly alighted on my thighs and how locks of her long, silky hair fell into my lap. I needed to forget how close her face was to my cock and balls. I denied that the tiny rushes of air, back and forth, over my crotch was Hunter's breath, taking in my scent. I did not want to get hard.

But, my eyes bent down. I had to see. And it looked exactly like oral sex.

Hunter murmured, "It smells so cool." A touch of nervous laughter escaped her. She pushed herself back, glancing at me.

I was torn. Part of me wanted to grow erect in front of her, wanted her to see it, and wanted to feel the thrumming power I always experienced when I was hard. Another part reminded me that she was learning, that I wasn't interested in her that way, and that the reason I had not yet gotten hard--as I knew I long ago would have in such an intimate moment with a beautiful young woman--was because I was genuinely trying to help her.

Yes, I thought, I'm helping her see what it would be like to have a cock. Then, an idea struck me like a jolt of electricity. I spoke before I had even thought it through. I said, "I could help you see what it's like to have a cock--one of your own--between your legs."

Her face warped into fear.

I said, "Not--I didn't mean sex. Your bottoms can stay on."

The panic I saw vanished, but wariness remained. Those dark, intelligent eyes fixed on me and she asked, "Okay, how?"

I said, "Can you trust me--that I'm not going to make you do something you don't want to do?"

She nodded.

"I think it might look kind of real," I offered.

Interested now, she quickly asked, "What is it? How?"

"Here. Stand up."

She did.

I scooted forward on the couch and, taking her waist, I turned her around. Spreading wide my knees, I drew her closer to the edge of the couch. Then, I laid back and said, "You don't have to take the robe off, but open it and sit down on me--just behind it."

Hunter didn't say a word. She moved like she saw what I had in mind. I saw her hands work in front of her. The ends of the belt fell away. She opened the robe, and as she lowered herself, she flung out the back like a pianist's coattails.

I caught a glimpse of black bikini bottoms barely covering a tiny, beautiful ass. Then, I felt her almost negligible body weight upon me along with smooth, warm, and silky skin-on-skin contact. I held her waist, and it was so slight that I wondered how, if I squeezed my hands together there, I might be able to touch my finger and thumb tips together.

I saw her head tilt down, and she caught a breath in her throat. She adjusted herself forward, and I felt the crotch of her bottoms wiggle into my pubic hairs, settling just behind the base of my cock.

Hunter didn't move. She stared down between her legs and murmured, "Holy fuck."

I watched her back rise and fall with each deep breath. Still, she stared down.

"Did it work?" I quietly asked.

She nodded, looking down fixedly.

I said, "If you want to make it look more realistic--. As long as you're comfortable, I won't mind."

She rose a split-second later. I could not see what she was doing, but I knew. Her arms tucked inside the robe. I heard a swish as she bent over. She kicked her feet a little, and then she backed into me and repeated her sitting process.

Only this time, when she swept up the tail of her bathrobe, I saw a beautiful little bare ass for a fleeting moment. I felt a wet pussy on my pubic hairs.

She scooted into position, smearing my crotch with her fluids. Settling into place, she took a deep breath and looked down. "Oh, fuck, it's perfect," she uttered breathlessly.

I felt myself stirring down there.

"Can I please touch it?" she urgently whispered

"You know what will happen if you do?"

I watched the back of her head nod up and down. Then I saw her arm move. Then, I felt her fingertips. I covered my mouth to stop the string of gasps and curse words from escaping, trying to remain absolutely still and silent underneath her.

Her little hand cupped my scrotum and gently squeezed. Hunter moaned. I felt the head of my cock begin rising, pressing against her arm. She did, too. She let my balls go. "Holy shit," she whispered.

Her fingertips traced along the new, but incomplete length.

"Holy shit," she gasped.

It kept growing.

"Oh, my--fuck, look at that!"

And growing.

She grasped and squeezed it. My cock surged in her tiny grip. She caught her breath.

It was complete.

She let go, stared down at it for a moment, and then uttered, "I want one like this."

I was on fire. I continued to clutch her little waist with one hand. The smooth skin of Hunter's thighs pressed against the insides of mine. Her little ass was squashed into the flesh of my pelvis; I felt its warmth and the pressure of each half as well as the crease down the middle. Beyond all of that, her pussy sopped my pubic hairs in sweetly fragrant fluids. My free hand continued to muffle a reckless string of swears and grunts the variety of sensations urged from me.

I drew the hand away from my mouth long enough to swallow down another curse and reply, "You can imagine it's yours."

I suppose it looked fairly real to her. She was sitting upright, and her crotch was snug against the base of my erection. At that angle, it probably looked to her like she had a fucking hard-on between her legs and a big set of nuts underneath them.

I choked back a gasp when she grabbed it. I pinched my eyes shut when she slowly began to stroke it. It felt so good that I flexed my cock. Hunter's voice caught in her throat when she felt it. A moment later, a low, sexy laugh came from her. "Do that again," she cooed.

I did.

She gasped, saying how much she loved the feel of a cock in her hand. Her grip grew in fierceness. She stroked faster.

I was unable to suppress the grunt of pleasure it drew from me.

Hunter echoed me, issuing an airy moan.

Her body began to move on mine--nothing major. It was little gyrations of her pelvis. I pinched my eyes shut and snatched a breath. The very root of my cock felt her lubrication.

She was grinding on me, rubbing her pussy over my pubes and up to the base of my cock. She liked it. Several iterations in, she began to moan with each pass.

I felt her little clit against the shaft, and she began to mash against me such that it wiggled side-to-side a few times before it rolled down into my pubic hairs, and then the process repeated.

"Fuck," I growled, casting aside my self-imposed muzzle and letting go of her waist. I slid my hands underneath her bathrobe and took hold of her missile tits through her bikini top.

Her head fell back and she muttered, "Yes."

Stroking her tits, I felt the top's latch pin on the front, between the cups. I quickly drew it free, yanked down the top, and clutched her breasts as firmly as she gripped my cock.

Grinding and panting, she told me she wanted to cum. I groaned in agreement because I was so charged by the shocking firmness of her tits.

Hunter began to moan louder and longer.

"Fuck!" I grunted.

Her little hand stroked me wildly.

"Hunter--!"

I watched her head tilt downward. She wanted to see it happen.

Her back curled and the back of her head vanished from view. She wanted to be close to the action.

It was happening. I felt the churning surges commence. My strength peaked, and I felt cum jettisoning through the shaft and out the knob.

Hunter let out a cry of wonder and delight.

I cursed, wondering if I had ever cum so hard in my life.

Without warning, she let go of my cock. Her body tilted back against mine, and her gyrations upon me ceased to cycle through my pubic hairs and remained completely on my still-ejaculating cock. Her pussy slid back and forth over the topside of the shaft, coating it in slick fluids, but never as high as the tip.

I stroked those tits, feeling her nipples in the pockets of both palms.

Hunter let loose cry after cry. Between, she gasped that she was cumming, and she swore with throaty amazement.

I caught a view of her face--so beautifully feminine in her moment of climax--that made me wild with desire.

I let go of a breast and snatched a wad of her long hair. Pulling it back, her face turned up towards mine, and I bent to it and kissed her lips. She sang the rest of her orgasm through my lips.

Her grinding ended with a few jerking gyrations, and then she stopped altogether.

But our kiss did not.

I took her opposite waist with my free hand, and Hunter read my mind. She rolled her front on top of mine, breaking the kiss for only a fraction of a second. Below, the knob of my still erect, semen-soaked cock nestled between her ass cheeks. I took a globe in each hand, and the still-throbbing head of my erection landed on her asshole, disgorging a final seeping glob there.

Above, our tongues met and danced. We panted through our nostrils, chuffing wafts of air onto one another's faces. We moaned and grunted, twisting our faces and meeting one another turn-for-turn as if feeding upon one another's tongues.

That kiss lasted longer than our combined climaxes.

We broke away at the same time, and our eyes met. Both of us chuffed air. Her eyes were fiery spheres. I uttered, "That was fucking incredible."

Hunter nodded as if astonished, but suddenly, she stopped.

I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong, but she was already moving, pushing off of me. She sat on the coffee table, spread-eagled, and surveyed her crotch.

It was my first look at her body without any clothing. I saw it all, but two things stood out. Hunter's spectacular breasts were capped with two chai-colored, perfectly circular, and very large areolae. In their centers protruded nipples the size of Hershey's kisses--sharply sloping to a rounded rather than pointed end.

The second feature I noticed on Hunter's body was that she kept a little wedge of hot pink pubic hairs.

Seeing her compact, beautiful little body on lurid display was so thrilling as to be almost painful. Adding to the excitement of the view was that her crotch--both the inside of her thigh and that tangle of pink pubic hairs--held spots, lines, and sagging gobs of my semen. It seemed it was my cum that had captured Hunter's interest.

Without a word, she swept her middle finger through the fluid on her thigh and brought it to her mouth. She took in the scent. An instant later, Hunter fed the finger into that tiny mouth and looked at me.

The finger remained in her lips. Her head tilted to the side as if she were scrutinizing and evaluating the new flavor on her fingertip. When she pulled it out, she asked, "What if I like it?"

She didn't wait for me to respond, her middle finger scooped and gathered what was left on her thigh. She sucked it down, and then she pinched and drew the cum from her little hairs, feeding it to herself until it was all gone.