You’ve heard it before. Everyone’s heard it before. How college is supposed to be the time for experimentation, when you put forward your best effort to know who you are and the things that you like. But you’ve never been the most outgoing person, preferring to stay at home with a good book instead of going out with friends who are more rambunctious and noisy than you would like. Joining the swim team was probably the most social thing you ever did in college, but then again you’d been swimming since you could remember so it only felt right to make at least a nominal effort to get on the team.

You were accepted. You did well. You were celebrated. Somewhere deep down you had hoped that your athletic success would get you laid at least once, but your introversion, your nervousness, your overthinking, it all made it difficult to get along with any of the guys you got involved with. And they were all too eager to move on from you once it became clear that you weren’t going to come around to having sex with them. Studying and training got in the way, too, but to all those guys, they just sounded like excuses. Eventually, you graduated, none the wiser to the pleasure of dick. Well, other than your own dick and the occasional dick that you jerked off behind the bleachers before freaking out and ruining the entire mood.

This whole Pink Fairy business is a crapshoot. You’ve never really believed in fairies or anything supernatural, but having seen all the testimonies online from guys that had apparently been “helped” by the Pink Fairy made you think that it might be worth it to ask for his help. So you dug around and found an email address. You spent a good week debating whether to go through with this, but last night you finally managed. Other than a weird dream of standing in front of a sex shop while getting pelted by ice-cold rain, nothing really happened overnight.

It frustrates you. More than you want it to. You knew from the start that this might not work, but you can’t quite figure out why you’re so disappointed all of a sudden. You tell yourself that all you need is a quick swim to clear your head. So you do it. You put on a speedo. You pack your bags. You head to the local swimming pool. And you go for a few laps around the pool. It’s a few minutes into this workout that you begin to feel strange. You feel hot despite the temperature of the water, and your speedo feels incredibly tight around your junk.

With a grunt you force yourself out of the pool and into the showers. It’s late enough at night that hardly anyone else is around, but the people who are there don’t seem to notice your predicament. You look down and the bulge in your speedos is much bigger than it should have been. You groan, a wave of arousal washing over you as the bulge swells again and you feel your cock twitch. It presses up obscenely against the soaked fabric of your speedo, feeling much better than it has any right to be.

You fight down the urge to moan, not wanting to debase yourself in front of all of these people, but it’s a losing battle. Your speedos tighten again and this time you can’t hold back your noises. You strip off your trunks and your cock springs into the air. Your balls flop out between your legs. They’re bigger. Your cock is longer. Thicker. IT feels so good you nearly lose your load right then and there, but you’re frozen in place as you watch your cock grow, extending out from your body, harder that you ever recall it being, getting bigger and bigger until it can’t hold its own weight up anymore and it sags toward your knees.

You grab the base of your cock and pleasure surges up your spine, obliterating any doubts you might have about this whole thing. You can feel the blood rushing to the monster between your legs and as it does you can feel your brain starving. You know that’s bad, but your cock feels so good that you can’t stop playing with it, sliding your hands up and down the formidable length. It feels good. So good. You don’t even care that your IQ is dropping by the second.

Licking your lips, you pull your cock up toward your body and you realize that if you just sit on the floor you could suck yourself off. You waste no time in doing it. The feeling of your lips wrapping around the head of your cock makes you moan in mindless bliss. But more importantly the sensation of a thick cock in your mouth sends shockwaves of pleasure reverberating through your being. You don’t know how long you spend there, on the floor of the showers, deep-throating your own cock and attracting an audience, but it isn’t until someone pipes up and says, “Good luck fitting that into your speedo” that you finally blow your load.

Your cum spurts out of you in a veritable geyser, blasting into your mouth and sliding down your throat. The taste is heavenly. Divine. As you gulp it down you feel your mind melting away and by the end of it, as your cock slips out of your mouth with a lewd, wet pop, the only thing you can think of is sucking more cock.

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