Little Red Pill - Gavin's Turn

The thwomping sound of my lap thunder-clapping down against his little bubble-butt, so forcefully that his cheeks burned a bright red where my skin met his, echoed throughout the small apartment.

I didn't have to wonder if the sound of our forceful fucking was loud enough to reach other tenants in the building. That question had already been answered by our downstairs neighbors; a stuck-up prude of a woman currently working on her doctorate in physics, and her timid pushover of a fiancé. She had already called in a complaint to our landlord. She was no-doubt just jealous that she would never receive the pounding from my massive cock that she could frequently hear happening through the ceiling of her apartment- not from her simp fiancé at least. It was a shame that I couldn't help her out with that, but it was strictly dudes for me, by that point.

Luckily for me, the Landlord only listened to her complaints once. As it turned out, the middle-aged potbellyed apartment building owner had a certain fascination with the fit young college boys that he rented out to. When he came knocking one evening to inform us of the complaint and possibly even threaten to evict us, his eyes nearly fell out of his head when I answered the door in only a pair of rubber ducky printed American Eagle briefs. Briefs that were too small to completely contain my mammoth bulge; my bulbous head even peaking out of the end of the fabric at the inside of my upper thigh. Just whipping it out and giving him a look would have been enough to win him over, but, gentleman that I am, I let him step over the threshold and get on his knees to see how much of me he could stuff in his mouth.

Any subsequent complaints from the stuck-up physicist below us were promptly ignored. Including the complaint that she probably called in response to the absolute drilling I was giving Noah on this particular evening.

The onslaught on Noah's anus was nearing the 40 minute mark. His usually boisterous verbal pleas and encouragements had long since devolved into breathless whimpers and whiney moans below me on the bed. He lay sprawled face down, ass upturned to meet my continually thrusting pelvis. His t-shirt was pulled mostly off, hanging on at one arm. His tender asscheeks were bared to me through a giant tear up the middle seam of his boxer-briefs, which I had ripped myself in my haste to gain access to his hole. His underwear wasn't the only thing I'd split in half, as my incredible hog of a cock also threatened to tear his ass at the seam. Were it not for copious amounts of lube, it may have done just that.

I was posted above him, a layer of sweat coating my completely naked body. I had one hand vice-gripped on his hip and the other locked on his left shoulder as I continued to reem him ceaslessly.

"C'mon, Noah. Get that fucking nut, dude! Cum for daddy," I panted. "Even I can only keep this fucking pace for so long!"

It wasn't that I had the stamina and willpower these days to hold out on cumming for this long. No, in fact my cock was squelching in and out of his asshole around two sizable loads that I had already deposited inside of him when I blew my nut on two separate glorious occasions over the course of this prolonged frenzied fucking. It just so happened that I now possessed the ability to fuck right through several orgasms without needing to stop.

It was actually Noah prolonging the explosive sexual encounter. He loved when I fucked the cum out of him. I was pretty sure he knew exactly where to position himself to make my enormous cock press right into his p-spot. I was also pretty sure he purposely dragged it out in order to savor the excruciating pleasure that my poundings delivered. He would let it build so long that I've seen him on occasion almost pass out when he finally started cumming anally.

To accentuate my point, I tightened my grip at his waist even harder and began humping down into him with all of my strength. I gritted my teeth and grunted out a single word with each powerful thrust.

"I. WILL. MAKE. YOU. FUCKING. CUM. IF. I. HAVE. TO."

Each thrust also came with a satisfied yelp from Noah.

"YeS dAdDy YoU'rE gOnNa MaKe Me CuM!"

When we were just hanging out, we were mostly 'dude,' 'bro,' or sometimes 'babe' to each other. But when we fucked, he knew I got a thrill out of 'daddy.'

I felt a slight readjusting of his hips beneath me, and I knew that he had just positioned himself so that the way I was repeatedly penetrating him now, stretching him to his limits, I was also jamming straight into that special spot.

"UhHhhHnnN fUcK! RiGhT tHeRe! FuCk Me RiGhT tHeRe! KeEp FuCkiNg Me! HaRdEr! FuCk mE jUsT LiKe tHaT, DaAaAaAdDyYyYy!" He was practically begging at this point.

Already going at what I considered full tilt, I somehow cranked it up to 11 while continuing to piston in and out of his stretched-to-the-max anus. Fat droplets of sweat fell from my brow and plopped onto the small of Noah's back below me.

Even I had my limits, and I felt another rocketing orgasm bubbling up from my mammoth balls, involuntarily. As if reading my thoughts, Noah's voice exploded below me.

"I CAN'T- UUUUHHH FUCK I CAN'T HOLD IT, I'M GONNA FUCKING CUUUUM- UUUUUUUGH!"

Noah's words devolved into a meaningless multi-syllable grunt before he turned his head and buried his face in the pillow in an attempt to muffle his outburst. I felt sphincter muscles clenching impossibly tight around my girthsome cock as I continued sliding mercilessly in and out.

For a solid two minutes Noah writhed beneath me while I continued fucking him, and I knew he was cumming. Halfway through, I felt my own balls begin to repeatedly tighten and relax. My whole enormous shaft literally pulsed as I pumped another warm hefty load into Noah's eager ass. There was barely any room left, most of my hot cum instantly leaked and squirted out around the seam.

I could tell one of Noah's incredibly powerful anal orgasms was finally subsiding when his body stopped it's spasms below me. It was just in time, too, as I myself finally felt momentarily spent after depositing my third load in under an hour. I collapsed down on top of Noah's smaller frame, content. I heard the air whoosh out of him as I knew I was now pressing his front down into the pool of his own jizz that he had pumped out into the front of his ruined his boxer briefs.

He gasped out a weak laugh.

"You're crushing me, dude," he wheezed.

"Sorry," I grunted and rolled off of him onto the pillow on my side of the bed.

Eventually he rolled over onto his side facing me, the mess of his climax staining the intact front of his underwear. He smiled a lopsided grin that dialed his boyish good looks up another notch and I couldn't help but lean over and plant my lips over the smile. He kissed me back. There was tongue. When he had to pull away for a breath, the grin was still there.

"Give me a minute to rest and I'll suck the big guy off for you if you want," he panted.

I felt my crotch-monster twitch at the mention of it, but continue to deflate to its no less impressive softened state.

"I might need more than a minute, babe. Like I said, even I have my limits."

Noah's grin widened and he rolled onto his back to look up at the ceiling. In a few moments I heard the familiar sound of his sleep-breathing as he dosed off.

I was left with my thoughts. Thoughts about how my life had ended up here. How I had begun last summer as a presumably straight 19 year-old dating his former head-chearleader Highschool sweetheart, and ended it with a boyfriend and an insatiable appetite for his ass.

But, if you are reading this, I'm sure you already know about all of that, at least from Noah's perspective. He was gracious enough to write it all down in a 10 chapter series chronicling his adventures with an experimental drug given to him by a mysterious hunky doctor. A pill that grew Noah's mini-penis into a bonafide monster cock, and saddled him with an unstoppable urge for all things gay.

Myself, I stumbled upon that same urge the old fashioned way. You know the story, Highschool jock football star spends his teenage years getting all the girls he could ever want. Meanwhile, in the back of his head, something about the way the muscles of his teammates glisten in the locker room showers sticks with him at night. Often he finds them working their way into his thoughts when he's alone in bed, or even sometimes when he's sharing some alone time with his smoking-hot girlfriend.

But I had always found it easier to suppress all of that. It was simpler to play the role of the handsome jock playboy. It's what my smalltown and my Christian-valued family seemed to want, maybe even need. And that was all fine with me. Until my path crossed Noah's last Summer.

I hadn't known it at the time, but Noah was already riding the high of the Little Red Pills when I had first knocked on his door, looking for payment from his mother for my lawncare services. I was a sweat-glistened muscled hunk that, in his state, he couldn't resist. I recognized him as the unassuming nerd kid from Highschool, where our paths rarely crossed. He wasn't unpopular or anything, we just ran in different circles. When he opened the door that summer afternoon and invited me in while he presumably looked for his mother's checkbook, a part in the back of my brain instantly registered his tight frame and mysterious cuteness. But by that point, I was well practiced in the art of suppressing those types of feelings. I had spent my fair share of time stealing glances and then averting my eyes in the locker room. It was just another normal afternoon by then. I maybe even had designs in my mind about getting some alone time with my then-girlfriend Megan later that evening. That was, until Noah offered to pay for the lawn mowing with a blowjob right there in his kitchen.

What followed was a summer of me waging an internal battle with myself. I struggled between wanting to maintain the status quo of my life as a straight attractive former Highschool football star, and wanting desperately to explore my deep-rooted desires for male companionship.

In his pill-heightened state, Noah was hard to resist. I spent many a night that summer stealing away to explore my sexuality with the all-too-willing and somehow, though I couldn't put my finger on how, mysterious Noah Wiley.

Eventually all I had left to feel for Megan was guilt. In a move that shocked even myself, I broke things off with her and continued my pursuit of Noah.

It was only then that Noah filled me in on his big secret, about the magic penis pills. It was hard to believe, sure. But in the back of my mind I think I had started to notice that his manhood seemed bigger and bigger each time that I caught a glimpse. I say 'caught a glimpse,' because, back then, I was still trying to find ways to justify my behavior with my stubborn notion of my heterosexuality. I told myself I only desired Noah for his mouth skills, and his willingness to offer me up his warm, tight asshole whenever I desired it. Something Megan the prude would never allow. I was only allowing myself to be dimly aware that Noah even had a cock, much less a magically growing one.

As it turned out, I think I'd just been what is known as a Top the whole time. And it also turned out that Noah was telling the truth about the pills and his growing cock. I only knew this for sure after he had lamented about losing contact with his shadowy pill-dispensing doctor. Apparently when the Little Red Pill supply dried up, Noah's impressively huge cock, along with his uncontrollable urge for guy on guy sex, had dried up too.

Luckily, apparently his feelings for me were real, and remained after the side-effects and amazing penis growth had worn off. All I had to do was convince him that I didn't give a shit how big, or small, his penis was. Which was true, I didn't. and we lived happily ever after, right?

Almost.

By the end of Summer I was ready to admit, at least to Noah and myself, that he was my boyfriend. It nearly broke my heart when he had to move back to school in the Fall. By that Winter break, I had concocted the scheme of applying for classes at the same school as Noah so that we could be together more. Come the Spring Semester we would be roommates in an apartment just off campus.

And then Noah dropped another bombshell on me. The mysterious Dr. Curtis had sent him a package. A package containing a new three month supply of Little Red Pills. I was happy for Noah. Despite my acceptance and assurance that I wanted him just the way he was, I knew Noah still had a hang-up about his small dick situation. I encouraged him to start taking them again, even got a little bit of a thrill thinking about feeling a hog of a cock between Noah's legs, maybe even trying to see how much of him I could fit in my mouth. Not my ass, of course- I still balked at the idea of being invaded by a cock there. But still.

I was actually kind of shocked when Noah told me he wasn't interested in getting back on the Pills. As he explained it to me, he was actually a little afraid of who he became when he was taking them, big cock and all. He said I was all that he needed. It was actually very flattering.

The shocks just kept on coming, though, when Noah suggested that I try out the pills instead. At first, I was adamant that I didn't need them. My own rig wasn't "monstrous" by any means, but I was content that it was big enough to get the job done. Noah whole-heartedly agreed. However, he confessed that the thought of me turning into a full-on monster-cocked Power Top gave him a rock hard little erection. I couldn't say no to those puppy dog eyes.

I was a little weirded-out by his insistence that we literally measure my progress. But I have to admit, I too became fascinated with it when the inches started adding on, which they quickly did.

I started at what Noah had meticulously calculated with a tape measure to be 6.9 inches, erect. Nice.

I thought Noah might be pushing it when he insisted on measuring the circumference of my shaft, as well, but he had assured me that Dr. Curtis had tracked his girth as well as length. At the start of the experiment, as you could call it, I was 4.7 inches around, if that number means anything at all to you, reader.

On the night that I had just dicked Noah down through three consecutive orgasms, we had begun the evening festivities with a measuring session. The member that I now had trouble stuffing into my underwear, and problems concealing the outline of in gray sweatpants, clocked in at 11.2 inches long and 7.2 inches around. That's just shy of the girth of a soda can, if you care to research. I did. It had been about two months since I'd started popping a little red guy once every morning and once before bed.

Which reminded me, I got up out of bed and padded off naked across the hall to the bathroom, where I took my evening dose. I splashed some cold water on my face and toweled off, and headed back to bed. Noah had rolled over onto his side facing away from me. I could still hear his rhythmic breathing. He had fallen asleep with his shirt still hanging off tangled on his arm. His tight round buns caught the moonlight coming through the window, his ass still hanging out of the giant tear I had created in the back of his boxer briefs. The sight sent a familiar twitch to my crotch and I sighed, amazed at myself for even being able to think about going another round already. I pushed the thought away, if only because I'd feel bad about waking Noah back up.

I climbed back in bed and pulled a sheet up over my body. My thoughts drifted back off to the craziness that had become my life over the past 8 weeks.

Things had remained pretty normal at first. Noah and myself had already maintained a healthy and regular sex life. It was one of the perks of being away in a college town where you didn't know anyone else, sharing an apartment with your new boyfriend. We fucked most nights after classes, spent a lot of mornings with wake-up hand jobs or sharing a quick shower and blowjob. This continued after I started taking the pills, adding only frequent "measure-in" sessions. There was no doubt I was growing, about a few tenths of an inch or so each day.

My sexual appetite was growing daily, too. By the second week we had gone from fucking around most days, to doing it every day, to doing it multiple times a day. This was mostly because seemingly everything guy-related was turning me on. I was getting frequent erections in class and out in public.

If Noah turned professional wrestling on tv, I popped an instant involuntary boner at the first sight of two muscley guys grappling in their tight little trunks. I'd have no choice but to bend Noah over the couch and almost-violently fuck his ass.

If I saw a student-athlete jogging shirtless down the sidewalk on my way home from class, I would have to hurry home, where I would need to rip my cock out of my pants and beat myself off the second I made it to the apartment, if Noah wasn't home yet to service me.

If we went out to get a bite to eat, we'd end up in a stall in the men's room, either Noah leaning up against the stall partition while I railed him from behind, or with him bouncing up and down on my ever-lengthening shaft while I sat on the toilet.

Noah was thrilled by my ferocious sexual appetite. He confessed that it turned him on when I dominated him. He loved when I demanded that his mouth and ass belonged to me. He relished being the bottom to my Power-top. Yes, he was thrilled, but by the fourth week, he was also kind of exhausted.

One Saturday afternoon in the apartment, after watching some college football and fucking for the fourth time that day, Noah admitted that he was physically too sore to go for round five.

I came to him, ashamed, not long after that, and confessed to him that sex was on my mind all of the time, even when I wasn't with him. Sometimes I vividly fantasized about sex with other guys. Everywhere I went, I saw a dude that I imagined naked, sharing a mutual jerk off with, getting a blow job from, or fucking. Sometimes I would make eye contact with a random attractive guy from across the room and I could actually feel that something would happen between us if I went up to him.

For some reason, this turned Noah on even more. Halfway through the fourth week, Noah gave me permission to experiment with my desires, laying a few ground rules. As long as I continued to sexually satisfy him, which I fully intended to do, I could act on my impulse to be with another man if it struck me. That, and oddly enough, Noah said I wasn't allowed to kiss anyone other than him. I found these terms agreeable.

The first opportunity presented itself when the professor in my Communications class paired me up for an in-class exercise with a hunk attending college on a Track and Field scholarship named Bryce. Nothing overtly sexual passed between us throughout the course of the class session, so I was surprised to find Bryce following ME into the men's room after class.

We ended up in a stall together with our pants around our ankles, comparing cock sizes and rubbing them together between our hands. He was no slouch, with his impressively athletic and surprisingly hairless legs and shaved crotch and impressive cut cock. But by then I was already nearing the 9-inch mark, clearly the bigger of the two.

As if that settled it, Bryce ended up on his knees in front of me in the stall. I managed to show restraint, just lightly resting my hands on the top of his buzzed-short head and letting him do most of the work. He wrapped a hand around my base and tilted my rock hard pole out away from my body before engulfing the tip and going to work with slobbery mouth and tongue, twisting and bobbing his head. He seemed to know what he was doing.