A fork in the path, I hadn't expected that. Nothing I had read on the internet said anything about a fork. I wondered which way I should go? You couldn't see very far down either path. The vegetation was thick and overgrown. It seemed the path to the right was less traveled. I took that as a good sign for this sort of thing, so I went right.
I was on the cruise ship's private island in the Caribbean. Actually, it was more of a private beach than an island. A compound fenced off from the rest of the country, with a dedicated pier for ships to dock at. The locals maintained the facilities and worked all the concessions when a ship was in port. I picked the cruise specifically because of this stop, and what I had read about it online.
I was on a vacation with my girlfriend, and everything had been great so far, but this was the stop I had been anticipating most. Months ago while researching itineraries I stumbled across a random comment about this place that caught my attention. I couldn't get it out of my mind. The comment said at the far end of the beach, there was a concrete building containing bathrooms. At the back of the men's side, there was an exit. If you followed the path leading from that exit it would take you through the jungle to a clearing where local men hung out. Men of all different ages and body types, but with one thing in common, they all had really big dicks. For fifty dollars, you could blow one of their huge dicks. Apparently it was a way to make some money off the tourists, sort of an unofficial shore excursion.
Now I'm not gay, I wasn't interested in sucking some man's dick. The thing was, I had a huge dick myself, ten inches. OK, maybe it was just under, but I always rounded up for effect. Either way, not bad for a skinny white guy like myself.
Ever since I figured out my cock was bigger than most guys, I had been fascinated by other men with big dicks. Whenever I watched porn, I always looked for actors with huge cocks. I still wanted to have sex with women, that was my thing, but I liked to watch guys endowed like myself. I don't know, maybe pick up some pointers or new techniques, or watch the expressions of the girls as they sucked those big dicks or mounted them for fucking. I just found it a turn on for some reason. And the way some of those women craved and treated those cocks was equally impressive, not at all like my girlfriend.
When I first read about this beach and the men at the end of the path, I thought here's my chance to see a huge cock in real life. I don't know why that appealed to me, why it stuck in my mind, but it did. Of course I had seen plenty of them in photos and videos, but never in person. Would they still look just as big in real life? Bigger than mine? Plus, I didn't see any harm in having a look, and this seemed the perfect place. We were on an island in the middle of the Caribbean, totally anonymous. No one knew me, and no would know about this, not even my girlfriend.
I had left her on the popular part of the beach. She wanted to sit in a lounge chair, work on her tan, have a drink. Perfect. I told her I was going to go to the bathroom and take a walk, check out the rest of the place. On my way to the bathroom I stopped at a bar and quickly downed a couple of rum punches. I definitely needed some courage to follow through on this.
Following the right fork of the path, I came to a sandy clearing with wooden picnic tables and some plastic chairs. There were three or four footpaths leading off the main clearing. Sitting around the clearing in various states of dress were several men of different ages. Locals I figured. One had on an orange button down short sleeve shirt, unbuttoned, and nothing else. His hairy chest exposed. His large soft uncut cock on full display amid a thick patch of black pubic hair. Another was bald, no shirt, a smooth chest, and a loose fitting pair of plaid boxers hiked up so that his long flaccid cut cock and dangling balls hung out one of the leg openings. There was a heavyset older guy wearing a faded black tank top that didn't cover all of his belly and a faded black cotton bikini, well worn and frayed around the edges, the stretched fabric uncomfortably holding back a huge meaty bulge, large gaps between his cocoa skin legs and the tented fabric. His equipment hidden just out of view. Two younger guys, similar looking, possibly brothers, sitting on a bench, wearing identical jerseys for the local soccer team, white socks and flip flops. They were talking with each other, probably about a recent match. A perfectly normal scene except that neither were wearing shorts, their matching dark uncut cocks and big round balls in plain sight. Finally, an older man, with gray sprinkled in his full beard, wearing khaki pants that were sitting low on his hips and had been cut off around the knees, effectively turning them into shorts. A massive bulge, too thick and too huge to be a cock, snaking down one thigh. His hand rested on the bulge, giving it a squeeze as I looked his way.
This must be the place I thought, nervous and lightheaded from the sun, the rum, and all the cock.
A tall and lanky man came up to greet me. He was probably around 40, with a full beard. He was wearing a white t-shirt and silvery gray nylon running shorts. The sleeves on the t-shirt had been cut off and the bottom cropped, exposing his flat stomach. The liner of the shorts must have been cut out, as the clear outline of his cock and balls pressed up against the thin layer of shiny fabric. "Welcome to Paradise" he said with a smile. "I'm Kingsley."
"Uh, hello" I answered, nervously.
"100 dollars, American, cash. Best to take care of business in the beginning, before the fun." He explained, with a vaguely English accent.
"$100? I thought it was $50" I said. Surprised at myself for confronting him, but Kingsley didn't seem to mind.
"$50 is for oral, that's the other path, to the left. $100 is for fucking. That's where you are."
"Oh sorry. I didn't know." I uttered, pausing, wondering if I should retrace my steps back to the bathroom, and go down the other path, or go back to the beach and my girlfriend and forget about the whole thing. I looked around again at the men and their cocks.
"Actually I didn't come for sex." I tried to explain, working up my courage. "You see," I stammered "I have... I have a huge cock too and just wanted to see a big dick, in person, you know hard and all. I mean I've seen them on video, but never in real life. I'm just curious, that's all. I'm not gay. I have a girlfriend."
Some chuckles from the men. Kingsley raised he his hand and motioned for them to be quiet. After a moment he said, "I tell you what, you seem a sincere man." He looked me over, sizing me up, his gaze lingering on my crotch, then continued "It''s a quiet day here on the island, and I'm sure we have just what you're looking for. I''ll have one of my boys show you around. After that we can discuss further."
Without waiting for me to respond, he called out "Rochester!" and a man I hadn't noticed before stepped forward. Rochester was skinny like me, about my age, about my height, with smooth caramel skin. He was wearing a pair of faded blue cotton briefs, several sizes too large for him, like he had borrowed them from his father or an older brother. He had the waist band rolled over several times and riding high on his hips to improve the fit without much success. The oversized leg openings were doing a poor job of holding in his big dark balls, which were peeking out. His cock bulging front and center, pulling the pouch down. He smiled as my eyes made their way back up to his face.
"Enjoy the tour" Kingsley said and pointed a hand toward one of the paths that lead from the clearing. "I'll catch up with you later."
Rochester led me down one of the paths. Similar to the situation up front, his over sized underwear was doing a poor job of covering his ass. The loose fabric was wedged up his crack and a good chunk of butt cheek was hanging out either side. "You can call me Rock. Everyone does."
"Sure, thanks." I replied. "I'm Ben." We walked further down the path, the darkness of the jungle settling in.
"Is that short for Rochester?" I asked, not knowing what else to say.
"Actually the guys call me that because of my cock." He replied with a chuckle.
