Collarbone cock

by BRK   

Nick’s new Picthread page is nothing but pictures of guys whose cocks reach up to their collarbones. Funny thing is, they’re not morphs at all, despite what Nick’s roommate thinks. Or, rather, used to think.

“Hey, did I tell you, I started a new Picthread.” Nick didn’t turn around from his supercharged MacBook but just kept typing. He was dressed in a loose dark olive tee shirt and blue jeans that hid his tall, lanky frame, but his big feet were bare.

Terry looked up from where he was lounging on his bed in his boxers, reading a mystery novel, killing time before he met up with Loren at the campus gym. He scratched his hairless eight-pack abs and favored his new roommate’s back with shrewd glance. “Is it about dick?”

“Yeah.” Nick looked over his shoulder at him for a minute, his too-bright blue eyes meeting Terry’s. Terry looked back down at his paperback, his cheeks coloring slightly at the plumping of his cock that just sharing a glance with Nick always evoked in him.

“Of course it is,” Terry said. “You’re obsessed with Picthread dick. And also, dick.” He hadn’t gotten to know his farmboy roommate all that well yet over two short weeks, especially as Nick’s courseload was even heavier than Terry’s even with Terry’s gym workouts factored in. But there was one thing that had quickly become clear from their conversations and occasional glances over Nick’s shoulder at his computer screen.

“Hey, we can’t all be growing muscle at the gym like you.”

“Well, actually—” Terry started to object; he’d urged Nick to work out with him before, somehow sensing that he’d grow muscle almost as easily as Terry did, but Nick had just smiled at him. It was at times like that that Terry wondered if Nick were as innocent as he seemed.

Nick was still typing—code of some kind, from what Terry could see of he screen around him. “Anyway, you can’t argue with loving dick. Dick is awesome.”

“Fair enough. What’s your new Picthread?”

“It’s called Collarbone Cock.”

Terry frowned at Nick’s back. “Collarbone—?”

“It’s all pics of guys whose boners are so huge that they come up to their collarbones!” Nick said proudly. He stopped typing, losing himself in his vision. “Or higher,” he added with reverence. “Cocks so big and beautiful that other guys love to just gently stroke them no matter what’s going on… Cocks so big that when all that caressing makes you cum, you just reach down with your mouth and shoot down your own throat… Cocks that stand up hard and horny all the time, never getting soft… “

“So—it’s all morphs then,” Terry said, losing a bit of his interest. “Photoshop jobs.” He liked really big cocks as much as the next guy, but it distracted him to know a cock he wanted to wrap his hands around was just so many digital manipulations. Not that he hadn’t blown his load looking at a few of those, or more than a few. He became aware his own cock was swelling in his boxers and reached down to adjust it, glad Nick was preoccupied with his work.

“Nope!” Nick replied brightly, choosing that moment to turn around from his coding and grin impishly. “It says right on the front page, all 100% natural collarbone cocks.”

“Uh…” Terry’s brows were raised almost into the loose sandy mop of curls that fell on his forehead and down his neck, but Nick didn’t see it—his eyes had drifted down Terry’s oversized pecs and tight waist to his growing bulge. Nick had been doing that a lot in the two weeks since they’d moved into their shared dorm room, and Terry had decided to find Nick’s distractability amusing.

“What?” said Nick, distracted. He belatedly flicked his eyes back up to Terry’s and Terry drew a breath. It was as if he wasn’t just beautiful, he exuded beauty somehow.

Terry held Nick’s intense gaze, willing himself to think rationally and clearly. He felt his cock finish hardening and figured he would just have to ignore his boner. This, also, was not the first time. “Dude where do the pictures come from? Because no one has a cock that big.”

“Sure they do. You’ll see. Here, just go to the site.”

“Now? I got to get to the gym, Nick.”

“You’re beautiful, you can lay off for one morning. Go to the site. It’s—”

“Collarbonecocks dot picthread dot com, I got it.” He sat up, his back straight against the painted cinder block wall, and reached for his laptop on his desk next to the bed. As he did so his thick cock quickly worked its way out of the fly of his boxers to stand proud, close to vertical, out of his crotch. He pretended it wasn’t there and opened his own laptop on his legs, on the other side of his irrepressible boner. He typed in the URL and watched a string of pictures come up.

“Holy shit!” he said, leaning forward. It was a new feed, only up a couple of days, but there was already a patchwork of at least a dozen pictures of shirtless, built young guys with massive fat cocks that towered way up out of their groin and topped out right at their collarbones! The looks on their faces were priceless, too—they all looked amazed and just a bit surprised.

Even as Terry stared, wide-eyed, at the amazing mosaic of towering cock the page suddenly refreshed. Terry, afraid the page and all those amazing images were about to vanish, reached for the trackpad, but the page reloaded—with a new picture dominating the top left of the design. A new one! Terry thought excitedly, staring at the new monolith, even wider than the others with a cobra flare in the upper third. He couldn’t help but notice it was pressed hard against enormous pecs, below which was a narrow waist so tight the monster boner obscured most of the guys’ obviously fine abs. His eyes drifted up the cock, past the broad, bulging shoulders resting against a pale cinderblock wall to the face a few inches above it, a cute, surprised face surrounded by a mop of sandy curls—

What the—?

Terry looked down, a thrill of alarm shooting up his erect spine. There, trying to shove down between his heavy melon pecs, was a boner so huge it was wider than his wrist and in easy reach of his suddenly salivating mouth. A huge tear of clear precum was slipping out of a slit the size of a coin slot.

Dimly, he heard Nick’s voice. “Nice,” he said, the awe clear in his tone.

Terry snapped his gaze up to bore into Nick’s. “What did you do?!” he shouted.

Nick was looking at him steadily, his stare so intense now that Terry felt Nick’s potent beauty focused on him, suffusing and energizing him, especially his enormous cock. He realized he was painfully horny.

“What do you mean?” Nick said evenly. Terry, staring into his bright blue eyes, was astonished to realize that his farmboy innocence was real and profound, that Nick’s boundless enthusiasm was all an almost giddy excitement for a better and more beautiful world.

Terry was gasping, having trouble holding onto his thought. “You! You made it so—”

Nick leaned forward, his eyes glinting with fascination. “What?” he asked calmly.

Terry gasped again. “So—so public,” he finished. He frowned. Was that what he had been trying to say? It was kind of silly, now that he’s said it out loud.

Sure enough, Nick laughed. “Geez, Terry,” he scoffed good-naturedly. “Even if you wore shirts everyone would know about that thing,” he said, nodding toward Terry’s monolithic cock with his chin. “If that thing got soft some day you’d need an extra pants leg for it!” Nick was joking, but his eyes were fixed on Terry’s beautiful hyper cock with rapt attention.

“Har har,” Terry said. He sighed. “I know, but so far it’s just been people who actually know me that know about it. Now everybody on the internet can see it.”

“See what?” said a sweet tenor voice. They looked up to see Terry’s workout buddy Loren standing in what Terry was startled to realize was the open door. He smiled, though, to see his friend. Loren was dressed for the gym, in a yellow tank top and loose gray sweat pants that totally failed to do justice to his gorgeously defined legs.

“Hey, I thought I was meeting you.”

Loren, who had longish blond hair and was built like a gymnast but a bit bigger in certain strategic muscles, made a beeline for the spot on the bed on Terry’s left and, in a well-practiced move that had already started to become unconscious habit, wrapped his big right hand around Terry’s iron-hard monster boner and began gently caressing it before he was even fully seated against the cinderblock wall. Terry sighed contentedly—Loren had a warm, strong grip.

“Naw,” Loren said. “I like hanging out with you.” He leaned over a bit, overlapping his broad shoulders with Terry’s a little. “What are we looking at—geez!”

“I know, it’s—”

“Fuck, man!” Loren cried. “Guys with cocks like you? I thought you were the only one! Here, let me see.” He reached over and pulled the laptop onto his sweats-clad thighs with his free hand. “Yours is definitely the biggest out of all these. And the most beautiful,” he said, still idly stroking Terry’s cock. Terry leaned forward and lapped up some of the precum that was accumulating on the cockhead, as he often had to do when hanging out with Loren.

Without warning, the page blanked and started reloading. “Hey!” Loren objected, but the images were rapidly reloading—Loren’s now at the top left, his massive shoulder-high boner literally overshadowing Loren’s well-developed bare torso.

“Sorry, I think I come second in both categories,” Terry said. His strong left hand was already gently wrapped around Loren’s permanently hard pole.

Loren grinned wickedly. “You never come second,” he said with a saucy smirk. For emphasis he momentarily tightened his grip on Terry’s huge cock—which, Loren thought appraisingly, might be an inch or two shorter but was definitely considerably wider. Terry huffed, taken aback, and they watched a generous dollop of pre ooze out of Terry’s slit.

“You gonna get that or should I?” Loren said playfully.

Terry suddenly remembered they weren’t alone. “We’re, uh, gonna distract Nick,” he said bashfully.

Nick had been watching them with dancing eyes. “Like you guys don’t love putting on a show for me,” he said. “But I know your buddy Miguel is on front desk today, and he’ll be disappointed not to see you two hunks.” Nick turned for a moment, letting the two friends playfully stroke each other and grin as if they were sharing a joke. He rattled his keyboard a minute and then swiveled back to them. “I just sent him the link to the picthread site, by the way,” he said with a coy twist of his lips. “Just to show him how famous you are.”

Terry grinned. Miguel wasn’t a musclehead—he was built tall and lanky like Nick, though he was proud of his bod and always dressed in tight tee shirts and tighter jeans; but he worked at the gym to stay toned and to admire the guys like Terry wgo couldn’t help growing their muscles.

Loren barked at Terry’s laptop screen in front of him. “Yeah, I don’t think he’s that intimidated,” Loren said. “Look,” he added, nudging Terry, “he already posted himself.”

Terry boggled at the picture now at the top of the mosaic—Miguel, standing behind the desk at the gym, shirtless as usual and grinning inanely as he leaned his head around a cock that had to top out somewhere around Miguel’s eyebrows. “Holy shit!” Terry shouted. “I know I see it every day but that looks amazing.”

Intrigued, Nick got up and peered over the top of the laptop, trying to see the screen. “Fuck,” Nick muttered in amazement. “I knew he was big before, but…” he tailed off, captivated even with the image upside down.

“Wanna come work out with us?” Loren said, waggling his brows up at Nick even as Terry started lapping up steady stream of pre from his own cockhead, his eyes fixed on Miguel’s Washington Monument of a boner.

“You guys go,” standing back as the two gorgeous muscle hunks stood, Terry still sucking pre out of his spurting slit. “Maybe I’ll join you later.” He watched the shirtless muscle gods turn and head eagerly for the hallway, watching their asses and adding quietly to himself, “I have websites to build.”

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