The Quadruped Society

by TreborNawoc

 Josh is accepted into the ancient and prestigious University of St. Eligius where he learns that amid all of the various student clubs and societies is one devoted to members of the university community with certain differences from the rest of the student body.

Added: Apr 2023 Updated: 29 Apr 2023 6,010 words 907 views 4.9 stars (16 votes)


I remember the day I got my letter...

It was a warm day (for March, anyway) and the daffodils were blooming, announcing the arrival of Spring. I had been at school and came home to find both my mother and father sitting in the living room, waiting on me getting home. In my father’s hand was a letter.

“Proud of you, son,” he beamed at me, as he handed me the letter.

I looked at it carefully. It looked like any other letter, with the exception of a small red logo in the bottom right corner. I recognised it straight away—it was the badge of The University of St Eligius. St Eligius, or St El’s for short, was one of the oldest Universities in the world, with a global reputation. That all mattered, naturally, but the main reason I wanted to go was more personal than that—my mother and father met at St El’s, my two grandfathers both studied at St El’s and I even think a great-grandfather was there as Fellow. I could see why both my mother and father were bursting with pride at the letter.

“Open it,” my mother said, gently.

I opened it carefully, not wanting to ruin the magic. It was difficult to get into St El’s and I didn’t want to end up disappointed by receiving a rejection. I lifted the letter out, slowly opening it:

To Joshua Andrew MacNeill esq,

I am pleased, on behalf of The University of St Eligius, to offer you a place for admission to read Military History...

I leapt forward and hugged my mother and father.

“I got in!” I shouted with excitement...

Fast forward a few months and I’m standing in the quadrangle of the great hall, gazing in wonder at the ancient building stood before me. My eyes wander, looking at all the new students milling around, waiting to enter. Beyond our group there were a few other students, in the distinctive red undergraduate gowns of an Ancient University, who had arrived to get settled in before the rest of the student body arrived next week. Something seemed different about some of them, but in my excitement I hardly pay attention.

The doors to the hall open, and I follow the rest of the ‘freshers’ as we head into our orientation.

“Good morning,” a strong, confident voice echoes from the raised platform at the end of the hall. “My name is Professor Dame Sarah Carter-Brookes and I have the privilege to be the Principal and Vice-Chancellor of this great and ancient institution. St Eligius is one of the world-leading Universities, consistently ranking within the top 10 places worldwide since academic tables began. You are the latest generation of students to come into these halls, and I welcome you on behalf of the entire faculty.”

Dame Sarah continued her speech, but I was lost, mesmerised by the grandeur of the hall. Eventually she stopped, and we broke into applause. At the podium, she was replaced by the Student President—my eyes went wide as I gazed upon such beauty taking in his handsome face before noticing something odd about him, that I couldn’t quite put my finger on...

He spoke at length about student life, encouraging us not to go to wild on Freshers’ week, to remember to work hard and to also play hard, and to try to join some of the University Societies, such as the Music Society, Rugby Team, Rambling Club, or the Quadruped Society. As he finished—with another round of applause—I noticed that he had more feet poking out of his gown than normal. Is he really playing a prank on all of us newbies? I thought to myself. It was only then that I noticed that he wasn’t the only one on the platform with extra feet—at least two of the Fellows and one of the Administrators were also joining in with the prank. I just smirked at the almost immature sense of humour of the four men to play such a prank at such a serious occasion.

At the end of the orientation, we were taken to our halls and advised to spend the rest of the day unpacking and getting to know our room-mates. Tomorrow would be the Freshers’ Fayre where the different societies would gather in the great hall to try to recruit new members from the first years.

And so, I found myself sitting in my room, staring at my gorgeous new room-mate, trying to find the right words to break the ice. Thankfully, he did it for me...

“Hey, dude,” he said, in a distinctive Californian accent. “I’m Jacob Summers.”

He extended a tanned hand, confidently, which I shook, gingerly.

“I’m Josh,” I said, in my distinctive non-Californian accent. “Josh MacNeill.”

“Cool accent, bro,” he replied through his perfect lips. “So, what’s your major?”

“I’m reading Military History. How about you?”

“Oh, I forget you guys say ‘reading’,” he laughed, showing perfect teeth. “I’m ‘reading’ Math.”

I ignored the urge to say ‘maths’, instead taking in his golden hair, golden skin, shapely body, bubble butt and prodigious bulge in the front of his shorts.

“Hey dude, up here,” he laughed again.

I panicked, but he stopped me.

“Don’t worry, I get it all the time. And if we’re roomies then you’re going to see it a lot more than most people...”

“Hmmm... is that a threat or a promise?” I hummed, before realising what I had said. I was rewarded by a hearty belly laugh from Jacob.

“I like you, dude,” he said, before returning to his unpacking.

Afterwards, we chatted all night about home, future plans, hobbies, favourite films. I knew then that I was going to enjoy sharing a room with my new American friend.

Freshers’ Fayre was chaos. Over 100 different societies with their stalls set up, trying to recruit new members.

“Hey newbie, do you want to join the St Eligius Chess Club?”

“You look like you want to sing in the choir, so join the Music Club?”

“Ever played badminton?”

“Join the Student Socialist Club, comrade!”

“Take up yoga/swimming/tap/crochet/woodturning”… and so on and so forth.

I put my name down for the Battlefield Studies group—hey, I’m doing Military History, of course I’m joining a Battlefield Studies group!—but just wandered around after that listening to everyone jostling for students. That was until I came across a table with two guys sat behind it...

The sign said ‘Quadruped Society’, and I remembered the Student President mentioning yesterday at the orientation. The two guys weren’t shouting at any of the newbies—in fact they weren’t doing anything to encourage anyone to join their group. Being the curious type, I went over and asked them about it.

“Well,” the one on the right said, “to be honest, we don’t need to tout for members. Guys tend to join after the first few months anyway.”

“Yep,” the other one said, lifting his glasses to scratch the bridge of his nose, “we automatically gain members, but we still need to show face at the fayre.”

“So, what is it that’s so special about your society that makes it irresistible to join?” I asked, intrigued.

“It’s simple,” the first one said, standing up. “As soon as a guy gets his extra pair, they join us.”

I look down at where he gestures with his hands and see that the four men were not playing a prank at orientation. This guy in front of me had four legs—in very well-tailored jeans too, I thought. My mouth fell open.

“Bu.. bu... bu...,” I stuttered. “How? How is that possible?”

“Nobody knows,” he sighed, sitting down. “You explain, James. You’re better at it than me.”

The guy with glasses cleared his throat. “It’s true,” James said. “Nobody knows. Countless studies have been done over the centuries, and there has never been any hard evidence of anything that causes some males to grow an extra pair of legs. All we know is that it has happened since this University opened 422 years ago, and it will happen to some of the guys in your year too.”

I stared, dumbfounded, at the realisation. It had always been one of my fantasies to be a centaur, and here were guys who were basically a human version.

“So,” I ask, nervously, “do you have to have four legs to join?”

“Oh no,” said James. “We have two different types of membership: full membership for Quads and associate membership for friends. Some guys even sign up for associate membership and have to switch to full membership if they go through the change, like Taylor here.”

“Yip,” Taylor said. “I joined because my roommate became a quad and told me how much fun the society was. A few months later I went through the change myself.”

“How does it feel?” I asked.

“It’s difficult to describe,” Taylor replied. “It feels amazing, but I would struggle putting it into words.”

“What it does do,” James added, “is open up a small group of people who share a common bond that stays with you all your life. We still get Old Quads coming back to guide and mentor the younger Quads, especially when we have finished our studies and move on to the big bad world.”

My brain was almost broken at the thought that throughout the world, there are men out there with four legs—that I hadn’t ever noticed—and it left me with no choice.

“So, how do I sign up?”

“That’s it!” I said, “that’s the shirt.”

Jacob stood opposite me in a tight white shirt. It caressed his body, highlighting his big arms, pillow pecs, and taut waist.

“Well, dude,” he said, “looks like you do have an eye for fashion.”

He turned around, letting me see his bubble butt in his equally tight jeans. The bulge in his crotch leaving almost nothing to the imagination. I could feel my own, rather average bulge start to tent slightly.

“C’mon Jacob,” I said, standing up and trying to move around so he wouldn’t see it, “better get going or we’ll be late.”

We both rushed out of the door, into the warm, late Summer’s evening.

It was an old tradition that freshers at St Eligius first went down to the beach, picked up a smooth pebble, etched our name on it, and then took it to make a pile on the dunes. These piles would stand as long as we were students and it was good luck if you found your pebble on graduation day. After this little ceremony, the festivities would start by heading down to the ‘Old Centaur’, a pub run by an Old Eligiusian that was big enough—just—to fit in all the freshers. The locals knew about the tradition, and also knew to avoid the pub for that one night a year!

I sat with Jacob as I didn’t know anyone else and I wasn’t outgoing enough to make friends quickly. Jacob on the other hand had attracted a group already, and they joined the two of us at our table.

“So, this is my roomie, Josh,” Jacob said to the group. “Josh, this is Adam, Gemma, Fraser, Steff, Chrissie and—God I love your name, dude—Torquil.”

I nodded to each as Jacob pointed them out. They all sat down at the table and started chatting away. Jacob sat opposite me, which I inwardly appreciated as I could stare at his beautiful face all night long. Gemma took the seat to my right, chatting loudly—and annoyingly—to the others in the group, while Torquil took the seat to my left. He extended his hand in welcome.

“Hi, I’m Torquil,” he said, “but my friends call me Quil.”

“Hi, Quil,” I said, returning the welcome. “I’m Josh.”

We started to chat and it seemed that both our fathers knew each other through work so I knew we’d get on like a house on fire. Before I got to some serious chatting, a voice came over the speaker system...

“Welcome, ‘Freshers’, to the ‘Old Centaur’. Please feel welcome to treat this place as a second home from your halls. If anyone ever needs someone to talk to, then I’m here every day. Now, as a welcome to make you really feel at home, drinks are free all night.”

A big cheer went up and I volunteered to get the first round in. To be honest, I was glad to get away from Gemma and her inane drivel. I passed my order over to the bar lady who started pouring the drinks and setting them out on a tray. As I stood, ignoring everything going on, an older gentleman came up and stood opposite me behind the bar.

“Ah, now there is a face that I recognise,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “You’re most definitely a MacNeill.”

“What?” I asked, being dragged back to reality. “How did you know that?”

“I knew it!” he laughed. “So tell me, are you Robin’s or Stewart’s son?”

“Robin is my grandfather and Stewart is my great-uncle. How do you know them?”

“Your grandfather?!” he blurted. “Christ, it’s been longer than I thought!”

I saw the man for the first time. He looked no older than my father, and yet here he knew my grandfather and great-uncle. There was something about him that seemed almost ethereal. Then I looked and saw that he was standing on four legs. I obviously stared for longer than I realised...

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat. “Your first time meeting a Quad?”

“Oh no, no, em, no,” I stuttered, embarrassed at being caught staring.

“Don’t be embarrassed, lad,” he laughed, heartily. “there are only a few thousand of us around so we get used to all the double takes!”

“Actually, I met two... quads... earlier today at the Fayre,” I said, gingerly trying the word in case I crossed a line, but he didn’t react. “I actually signed up for associate membership of the Society.”

“Good man,” he gave me a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Your grandfather and great-uncle were both associates too. Anyway, I better get back to serving, before Brenda throws something at me.” He gestured at the bar lady who had finished with our drinks.

I nodded my thanks to both and headed back to the table.

“Oh, finally,” Gemma called out. I had decided that I didn’t like her when I first met her, and that just confirmed it.

“Wait,” Jacob said, looking at the drink, “are those beers?”

I nodded.

“Are we allowed to drink beer?” Jacob asked.

“Sure thing, sexy,” Gemma replied—I had figured out her game—”we’re all over 18 here.”

“Holy cow,” Jacob said, grabbing a pint.

I finished another bottle of beer and added it to the collection of empties in the centre of the table. I had never had as much to drink in my life, and clearly neither had Jacob.

“You know, dude, I still can’t believe that you’re allowed to drink at 18 over here,” he chuckled, his face showing a state of relaxation whilst his eyes showed that he was drunk.

I looked at my hot roommate and mustered up the strength to respond.

“Yeah,” I said, utilising my superior vocabulary skills.

It was almost 3 a.m., the bar having had an ancient exemption for closing time due to the old tradition of Freshers. The rest of the group had broken away—Gemma had been the first to go, taking Fraser to the bathroom to fuck, then taking Steff to suck off. It was clear that she’d had one thing in mind that night.

Adam and Torquil, trying to show some chivalry, offered to walk Chrissie home to her halls. That left Jacob and me as the last ones standing.

“Now... now... c’mon I drink we’ve had foo much to thunk...” I said, standing up. Jacob nodded his agreement and stood up.

We started to make our way back, leaning on each other. As we passed the landlord, Jacob waved our goodbyes. “Bye Mr Centaur!” he hicced.

The landlord smiled and shook his head. “Goodnight, boys,” he said. “Try to drink plenty of water before you sleep.”

“We made it,” Jacob said, unbuttoning his tight shirt as we reached out room door.

I found my key and opened the door, letting us both spill into the room. Jacob headed to the bathroom, his clothes dropping off as he made his way. I sat down on my bed and just thought about the landlord with four legs. He talked about my grandfather and great-uncle like he knew them well, and yet he looked about the same age as my father. I know some people look younger than they actually are, but the 42 years difference between my father and grandfather seemed a stretch. Maybe his father owned the ‘Old Centaur’ and that’s how he knew them...

I was stopped in my thoughts as my heart skipped a beat—Jacob was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, completely naked. For the first time, I got to see him in all his glory. His skin was tanned all the way, no light patches at all. His abs numbered nine, with that hot offset style that some guys have. His pecs were like pillows that I just wanted to lay my head on. But the thing that took my breath away was his cock. I had seen plenty of cocks, mostly watching internet porn, but to see something this big in real life was unbelievable.

“You like that, dude?” Jacob asked. “Don’t be shy, I know you’ve been staring at me all night.”

He walked over, cock swinging left and right, it’s head gently brushing his thighs. He sat down beside me, his strong leg brushing mine.

“Wanna feel it?” he asked, his breath betraying his drunken state.

Yes! my mind screamed internally. “Em... look... em... Jacob... you’re drunk, and I... em... don’t want to... you know... take advantage,” I sheepishly replied, turning away slightly and feeling like I was suddenly sobering up.

I turn back, to see him lying down, suggestively tugging at his cock, teasing me. He slides up onto the bed, letting his big feet up off the floor and into my lap. My own cock is at full mast, but I don’t want to end a friendship before it’s even started. As his feet move around my lap, something catches my eye.

“Ummm... Jacob... you didn’t tell me you had 11 toes,” I ask, looking at his right foot with six long beautiful toes.

“Don’t be silly, dude,” he said, his eyes starting to droop into a slumber. “I’ve got ten toes, same as ev’rybody else...”

He started snoring, his big chest rising and falling as he inhaled. I can’t take my eyes of his foot. Drunk as I am, I can definitely count six toes...

The rest of Freshers’ week went without incident, and Jacob doesn’t seem to remember our ‘almost’ sexual encounter. Sadly, he didn’t seem to feel the need to be naked in front of me either, which meant I couldn’t tell him I knew about his feet.

As the other students started to arrive, I noticed more and more four-legged guys in the crowd. They walked around the grounds as though they were no different to the rest of the students. They certainly seemed to come in the same variety of shapes and sizes as the rest of us, from the nerdy/geeky types to the bodybuilders, the emos/goths to the straight-laced posh boys and everything in between. One thing did stand out, though: where were the four-legged girls?

I decided to ask that question when I bumped into James in the corridor between lectures.

“That’s one of the many mysteries about the whole thing,” he replied. I stared at his four legs as he spoke, although he didn’t seem to take any notice.

“Of the nearly twelve thousand quads that have been recorded, not a single one has been female,” he continued. “Every single one has passed through St Eligius’s University though, either as a student, faculty member, administrator, groundskeeper, you name it. I think if people knew the ‘how’ then it would be a huge commercial enterprise.”

“You can say that again,” I laughed. “I know plenty of people who would love to be in your position.”

“Huh,” he said. “I’ve never really thought I was that different. Then again, my father and uncle were full members of the Society, so I grew up around quads all my life. It almost seemed natural when I transformed last year.”

“Really? Only last year?” I blurted out. “But I thought you were in your honours year?”

“I am,” he replied, with an almost bored tone. “Another of the mysteries is that you never know when a quad will transform. I was here for two and a half years before I noticed the start of the changes. Thankfully, being the son of a quad I knew what to look out for.”

“Wait,” I queried, “there are signs? So, it doesn’t just happen overnight?”

“Oh no,” his eyes lit up. “It’s actually a fascinating process, and whilst each quad has the same obvious characteristics—the four legs—” . He pointed down. “—there are a few other things that we all share in common. These tend to manifest first. The legs are actually the last thing to appear. Well, the legs and, um, well, some other, um, things...”

He trailed off, his cheeks brightening with slight embarrassment.

“So, what are the early signs, if you don’t mind me asking?” I probed.

“Well,” he resumed his enthusiastic talk, “all quads have an extra digit on each hand and foot. See?” He waved a six-fingered hand in front of my face. “It’s these extra digits which tend to manifest first. They are certainly the tell-tale sign of a quad about to transform in the next week or so.”

“Oh wow!” I said, my eyes going wide. “Thanks, James! Sorry to be rude, but I need to run to my next class. Before you go though, do you know when the first meeting of the Society will be?”

“Oh, sure,” he looks at his watch, “we usually meet at the ‘Old Centaur’. The first formal meeting where we welcome new members will be next Wednesday night, but after that there are usually informal meet ups every evening.”

“Cool,” I said, starting to run to class. “See you at the meeting!”

I turn and wave as I break into a sprit and smile as James returns the wave with his now-obviously six fingered hand.

Incredible thoughts race through my head about the transformation into a quad, especially about the completely oblivious Jacob and his new-found extra toe...

“Greetings Quads and soon-to-be Quads,” Taylor’s voice boomed out through the sound system. “Welcome to the first meeting of the new Academic Year. Welcome back to all our returning Quads, and a warm welcome to our new joiners. The Quadruped Society is as old as St Eligius itself, with our founding members being 4 of the first 28 students. We are a truly equal society, for the change knows no barriers. Lords and Commoners, Rich and Poor, Student or Faculty, regardless of race or sexuality—anyone who has walked within these hallowed halls can go through what is known as the ‘taurification’ process and become a full Quadruped.”

The ‘Old Centaur’ was filled with students. Those of us who were new joiners were stood in a section at the back, getting ready to be inducted into this most unique of societies. We gazed around in wonder, staring in amazement at the assembled company before us. There must have been at least 60 or 70 people, of all shapes and sizes, some with two legs and some with four. I looked at Jacob, his eyes were wide—he had started to realise that there were people with four legs at the University but didn’t realise there were so many. I was glad that he took me up on the offer to come along tonight, especially as I believed, or at least hoped, that he might be about to become a ‘full’ member himself...

“Can I ask those who wish to join us to step forward.”

We all start walking to the front and stand, slightly nervous about the formality of the occasion.

“As members of the Quadruped Society, do you promise to uphold the rules and constitution of the society at all times?” Taylor asked.

“We do!” we all replied.

“Right, that’s the formal bit done then. Welcome to the club!” Taylor laughed. “My god, you all looked so nervous. Relax, this isn’t the Stonecutters or some sort of secret cult!”

A warm laugh rippled through the assembled members as they all mingled and welcomed the new members.

“So, welcome to the society,” James said, extending a six-fingered hand. I took it eagerly, enjoying the strange feeling of his fingers surrounding mine. He then did the same to Jacob, whose usual confidence had abandoned him in the company of so many four-legged people.

“Is that all the formal bits done then?” I asked.

“Yip,” James nodded. “We don’t go in for pomp and ceremony. We’re a support society rather than anything academic, so it’s all about bringing people together to help one another. As you can imagine, the change can be quite stressful. Especially with the speed that some people go through it. A few of us are lucky and it can be spread over a few months, or even years, but there are a significant proportion of Quads who emerge over the space of a week.”

“Wow,” I said, “and you said that some people don’t even realise that they are going through the change?”

“Correct,” James replied, “about a third of all Quads don’t realise that they have grown extra parts until their legs come in. Something in the brain just makes them switch off to the changes like extra fingers and toes. It’s all fascinating really. Like Tom here. Tom? Tom?”

A large, tall four-legged giant came over. His entire demeanour appeared intimidating to such a small creature as I, and when he extended his hand and shook mine I felt like my hand was in a vice.

“Tom here,” James pointed, “went through winter last year trying to figure out why his gloves wouldn’t fit his hands. All because our brains try to make sense of the change, and in some cases try to deny it all together.”

“Yeah,” Tom’s deep voice boomed. “James kept telling me that I was changing, but I genuinely couldn’t see it. It was only when the final change started, and my legs appeared that I finally registered everything. Believe me, that was a lot to take in. But it feels amazing now.”

Tom made his goodbyes and went off to mingle in another part of the group. Taylor signalled over to James.

“Sorry Josh,” he said, “duty calls. Nice meeting you, Jacob.”

Jacob nodded, still in slightly stunned silence. I led him to the bar to get a drink. A familiar face greeted me.

“Ah, young MacNeill,” the four-legged owner said, warmly, “what’ll it be?”

“Two pints of Irn-Bru please,” I replied.

As he poured the drinks, I listened to some of the chatter going on in the room...

“...Andrew has managed to secure quite a few good speakers this year, including Sir Julian Carter-Jones, Admiral Lord Trelawny and Robert Craig.”

“...Sir Julian? He must be a good age now?”

“...yeah, didn’t we send him a card for his 150th last year?”

“...I’m telling you; it was an extra finger I saw on both his hands...”

“ can’t be, he’s already got 12 fingers...”

“...I’m just telling you what I saw...”

“...that was some night you had at the weekend...”

“...oh yeah, those two guys were amazing...”

“...they looked it. How did they react to seeing ‘everything’?...”

“...oh, they loved it. I love being able to do two at the same time...”

“There you go lads,” the owner said, handing us our pints. I passed one to Jacob, who still hadn’t said a word.

“Is your friend okay?” the owner asked.

“I think so,” I replied. I handed him his pint. He took a sip.

“Wait!” he spoke, finally, “what is this?”

“It’s Irn-Bru,” I explained.

“What flavour is it?” he looked at the glass, confused.

“It’s Irn-Bru flavour,” I laughed.

He lifted the glass up to examine it more, switching it to his other hand. With a tingle down my spine, I spotted an extra finger on his left hand. Instantly, my cock got hard. My roomie is going to be a Quad, I thought with excitement...

After the meeting, Jacob and I went back to our dorm. Jacob was still pretty speechless about the evening, except for the drink.

“But what flavour was it?” Jacob asked, starting to undress.

“I told you,” I replied. “Irn-Bru flavour. That’s all we know, honest to g...”

I stopped talking, once again taking in the sight of my hot roommate. His toned abs, his huge arms, taut waist all needed some love and attention. Most of all, his huge bulge straining at his boxers, demanding to be released. Sadly, for me, that moment appeared to have passed last week after our drunken freshers’ session.

He hoped into his bed, under the covers, and slid his boxers off. Oh, to be that silk sheet...

“Goodnight, dude,” he said.

“Goodnight, Jacob,” I replied, before heading to the bathroom and changing into my pyjamas. I still didn’t have the confidence to change in front of such a stud.

I returned to the room and jumped into my own bed. Before switching off the light, I looked over at the sleeping hunk, a huge smile on his face. I wondered what he’s dreaming about.

I awoke to the sounds of heavy breathing. Looking at my watch, I saw it was 2 a.m. I heard Jacob’s voice, whispering...

“Fuck... oh, fuck... so hot... four fucking legs... uh, uh, uh...”

I opened my eyes, having luckily fallen asleep facing my delicious roomie. He was lying on the top of his covers, a thin layer of sweat causing his tanned skin to glow in the moonlight pouring in through the bathroom window. His muscles were flexing with every breath, dancing in front of my eyes, hypnotising me with their subtle movements. My eyes were drawn first to his bulging biceps, then down to his forearms, to his hands...

“Holy fuck,” I whispered, hoping he didn’t hear me. I finally got to see his cock standing in all its glory. He had both hands on it, jerking it wildly. I looked closely trying to find the extra finger, but instead I found an extra two. Even with his now larger hands, Jacob’s cock stood tall enough that he would need a third one to fully enclose his length.

“Uh... uh... uh...” he moaned, each time he strokes his monster cock. I lusted for it; I desire nothing else but that cock. It was so near, and yet so far...

“Fuck... Josh...”

At the mention of my name, I awakened fully. I looked, almost in horror, as his eyes locked with mine. They burned right through me, but then I noticed that they were pleading with me. I slowly pulled the covers off and walked the few steps over to his bed.

“C’mon... Josh...” he moaned, “you know... you... want this...”

Taking his cue, I slowly reached out my hands, scared that I might break the spell and find myself in a dream instead of reality.

He stopped long enough to allow me to touch his manhood. Like lightning, a shock passef through me as I connectrf, my flesh touching his most intimate flesh. Fuck me, I thought to myself, it’s huge!

I put my hands at the top of his two extra-large hands. Even with all four hands stacked, some of his head was poking out. Slowly, we started to build up a rhythm together. We moved in sync. Our breathing became as one as we both worshipped the flesh pole in front of us.

We started to build in speed, with Jacob moaning with each breath, getting louder and louder as we got faster and faster.

“Oh... fuck... Josh... legs... fuck... uh...”

I silently put all my effort in to massaging the biggest cock I have ever seen. My own cock, starving for attention, got harder and harder as I focused all my effort on making the man of my desire achieve absolute pleasure.

We continued building up speed, until I sensed that Jacob was near climax. A new instinct took over, and as his balls released their load, I jerked forward and take as much of the head in my mouth as I could.

“Fuck!” Jacob yelled, as my tongue pleasured his slit just before his seed spurted out, hitting me in the back of my throat.

My own cock joined in, shooting my warm cum all over Jacob’s ripped body. Waves of pleasure overcame us both as I swallowed as much of Jacob’s load as I could.

Suddenly the door to our dorm burst open. In shock, and in panic at being caught in such an intimate position, Jacob and I both turned to see the intruder.

Standing in front of us, white as a sheet, was Quil. His scared and shocked expression made all the more unique by the long tongue lolling out of his mouth by several feet, his hands and feet showing the tell-tale signs of the start of taurification. Without warning, he grasped at his stomach, his torso starting to stretch upwards, as something bulged underneath the surface..


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