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|"I dare you to..."
"But what if something happens to the dude?"
"He told us himself it wasn't toxic. You chicken?"
The final bell rang....
"Alright everybody, make sure you put away all of your lab materials, carefully!" Bradley Stanley said, trying to compete with the noise level of his class.
As the class was cleaning up the room, some boys in the back of the class chuckled as they slipped a little bit of the chemical they'd been using into Mr. Stanley's jug of water. They popped the cap back on, and ran out the door.
The teacher was going to be 40 in a week. He sighed just thinking about it. 40 years old and still single. While he was one of the nicest guys around, people couldn't seem to get around his quirky appearance. He was a tall, lanky man, with greasy head of black hair. His blue eyes were covered with a pair of thick black glasses. And then there were the ugly sweaters he chose to wear just about every day. Had he truly cared about his appearance, he might not have looked half bad, but that stuff didn't matter to him. At least he was content with his teaching.
Mr. Stanley waved goodbye to the rest of his students as they exited the room, and then turned around. There was still one young man seated in the back of the classroom, writing on a piece of paper. Jimmy.
"Are you alright, Jimmy?" he asked.
Jimmy looked up, almost startled. "Oh, uh, yea Mr. S, I just um, I'm still having problems with these equations."
"Want me to help you out?"
"That'd be great, thanks."
"No problem, that's what I'm here for."
Jimmy was of average height for a 16-year-old. A bit on the skinny side, he was pasty, with short blonde hair and brown eyes. He'd just moved in town 2 months ago, and was still very shy, but a nice kid. Not one to stand out in a crowd, but he was ok with it. He'd find his niche soon, or at least he hoped he would.
"Uh, Mr. Stanley, do you mind I go to the hall to get some water before we go over this?"
"I don't mind at all. Actually, there's a bottle over water over on the counter. I'm a little thirsty myself. I have some plastic cups we can use. One second..."
Mr. Stanley opened up one of his desk drawers and pulled out two plastic cups. He poured the jug of water into them, gave a cup to Jimmy, and then rose his cup in the air.
"Cheers," he smiled.
Jimmy chuckled. Mr. Stanley was odd, but he was cool. "Cheers."
They both chugged down the cups of water.
"So, about these equations," the teacher continued, "they're... hmm," he muttered as he began to lick the roof of his mouth.
Jimmy swallowed. "Mr. S, did you notice a funny aftertaste after you finished the cup?"
"Why, yes, actually. Strange, earlier this morning I..." He was beginning to get dizzy.
"Mr. S, I think I'm gonna be.... Ugh!" Jimmy groaned, and be began to heave over.
Suddenly, a loud ripping noise came from the floor below them. As they both looked down, they realized it wasn't the floor, it was Jimmy's shoes! His toes had burst right out the front of his size 11s.
Before Mr. Stanley could even gasp, the sleeves of his sweater began to tear from his shoulders. "My God, what's going on!?" he trembled.
Mr. Stanley looked at Jimmy again, and then realized that he was eye to eye with him. That was impossible, he was at least half a foot taller - he looked at Jimmy's legs and noticed that the cuffs of his pants were slowly riding up his legs.
"Mr. S!" Jimmy cracked. "Wh-what's happening to me?" His voice was now noticeably deeper, taking on a deep bass sound.
Mr. S noticed that his vision was getting blurry, that was, until he took off his glasses. He could see perfectly, and noticed that Jimmy had an evident 5 o'clock shadow forming on his face.
"I-I don't know Jimmy," he replied helplessly. "Just- just stay calm..." The tightness he felt in his pants was unbearable. The bottom of his disheveled sweater now revealed his belly-button and... defined abs?
Jimmy's pants had now completely shredded to bits, leaving him confined in his tight boxer-briefs. His shoes and socks were completely ruined, revealing two huge feet.
Things began to move faster and faster. More ripping and stretching noises, more uncontrollable deep groans. To teacher and student, the room seemed to be spinning around like a globe. It was too much... they blacked out.
Jimmy slowly opened his eyes. He was confused. Why was it so cold? He slowly began to stand up, and then almost yelped as he realized – he'd been lying on the floor, stark naked. But... how? Why? He took a few more glances at the ground beneath him (it seemed further away somehow) and noticed shoes, shirts, pants, underwear, all tattered in bits. He scratched his head in confusion, almost forgetting that he was naked.
"Some crazy shit, huh?" a voice came from across the room.
Jimmy gasped as he turned around. A young man, about the age of 18, was sitting on top of the teacher's desk. He had a messy black mop and piercing blue eyes. He was grinning. He was also in the buff.
He got up from the desk and walked towards Jimmy. His body was magnificent. Smooth, tanned skin, a strong upper body and arms, six-pack, legs like tree trunks. A light treasure trail lead down from his navel to his equipment.... It was magnificent. Uncut, seven inches at least – soft. And it swung like a pendulum with every step he took toward Jimmy.
The young man extended his right hand to Jimmy. "Name's Brad."
Jimmy's jaw dropped as he continued to look at Brad's rod. Brad noticed, and smiled.
"It's ok dude. And besides, I can see that I'm not the only one in here with big feet." He chuckled.
Jimmy looked down.... and almost fainted.
"I'm not... this isn't me... is it?"
Brad seemed amused by Jimmy's confusion. "Well, I dunno man, why don't you take a look in the mirror?"
Brad pointed to a cabinet door. Jimmy walked over and opened it. There was a tall mirror on the inside of the door, and in front of it stood a dream. A tall young man with wavy blonde hair that reached his shoulders. Welcoming brown eyes, a strong jaw and cleft chin. The puka shell chain that he'd been wearing was now snug around his developed neck, more like a choker. The body of a professional lifeguard. And indeed, he had no need to be ashamed of his prodigious member. A Baywatch dream. All he could do was smile. He was getting hard.
"Ok pretty-boy, stop admiring yourself," Brad chuckled, although his member was starting to harden up as well. "What's your name, bro?"
"I'm, uh – Jim. I'm Jim." He'd never called himself Jim before. Memories were starting to get rearranged... "How uh, did we end up in here?" he said as he looked around the room.
"No idea," Brad muttered as he flexed his arms and popped his pecs, "but right now I don't really care." He struck a pose
. And to be honest, Jim didn't really care either, but a thought did come across his mind. "How are we gonna get through this building without any clothes?"
"School's out man, were the only ones around," Brad replied, scratching his almost orange-sized balls. "Maybe we can find some stuff in the locker room. Coach usually leaves the door unlocked. "Speakin' of which, I think I'm gonna go hit the showers."
Brad began to walk toward the door, and Jim began to get even harder as he stared at his bubble butt.
"I'll go too dude..."
The two fine specimens of manhood ran through the halls of the school, Brad wearing his birthday suit, Jim wearing his puka shell chain, and only that. Their cocks flapped up and down with each bound, sending a jolt of adrenaline through them with each leap. They didn't have a care in the world.
They finally reached the boy's locker room, which was indeed, unlocked. They lowered their voices, just in case Coach was still lurking around.
There was a section of lockers on one side, with the coach's office in the back, and the stalls, urinals and showers on the left.
"Dude," Jim said, "For some reason... I can't think of my locker number..."
"Yeah," Brad replied, "can't remember mine either for some reason... Damn. Ah well. I've gotta piss like a racehorse. Be right back...."
He started for the urinals, and Jim quickly followed. "Come to think of it, so do I..."
Brad chose his urinal, and Jim took one just to the right of Brad's...
As Brad started to relieve himself, he let out a deep sigh. "Awww yea. Damn that feels good."
Jim couldn't stop staring at Brad's prodigious member. He didn't have a to take a piss at all; he just couldn't take his eyes off the prize winner.
Brad knew what Jim was up to, and decided to show off some more. He lightly ran his large hand down his abs very slowly, past his neatly trimmed bush, and reached his rod. He grabbed it and slowly slid up and down, creating a sensation with each glide. His other hand soon joined (hell, the thing was big enough for three fistfuls). Jim licked his lips, and before he knew it, he was grasping onto his own tool.
"Aww, hell yea..."
Suddenly, the locker room door swung open. It was Coach Stevens. He turned his head over to the urinals, and dropped his clipboard.
"Just what in Hell's name do you two think you're doin?!"
This startled to the two young men, who'd obviously been preoccupied, and they swung around to see where the voice came from. There they were, Buff Brad and Big Jim, naked as jaybirds and hard as rocks standing feet away from their coach, dicks pointed straight at him.
Steven's eyes immediately dropped to their members. He thought out loud "Jesus, son! What're they feeding you guys here, Miracle Grow?"
The youths didn't know what to say at first, and then Brad spoke up. "Uh, Jim and I just got out of training in the weight room, and we're about to hit the showers, Coach."
The coach had a very skeptical look in his eye. "Very well. Get to it then. I've gotta head outta here, so you two turn off the lights when you're done."
Coach took one last look at their members, still stiff as boards, and then proceeded to his office to pick up his coat.
"Oh, and another thing," he added. "Next time you guys decide to jack off, at least have the decency to do it in the stalls."
Jim blushed. Brad just smiled. "Yes sir."
Mr. Stevens closed the door behind him with a sigh, and left.
Jim let out a sigh of relief, while Brad just laughed. "Come on dude. Gotta follow Coach's orders."
They went into the area of showers, and Brad adjusted a nozzle to reach over his tall frame. "You can stand over here with me if you wanna. I think there'll be enough water for the both of us," he grinned.
Jim blushed, and smiled back. "Ok man." He walked forward.
Brad turned the faucet a few times, and the water began to pour down on the both of them.
It was truly a sight for sore eyes, these gorgeous men glistening as their chiseled bodies became wet from head to toe. Brad grabbed a bar and began soaping himself down, and by this time, there were both hard again.
The bar slipped from Brad's hand and onto the floor. "Oops. Guess I dropped the soap," he chuckled.
Be bent over to pick up the bar, and then lifted his head. His face was directly in front of Jim's package. He kneeled down, let the soap fall from his hand once more, and then looked up at Jim, hunger in his eyes. Hunger for Jim's prime sausage.
Jim had a dum smile on his face at first, but then it changed to a look of fear. "But dude, what if someone..."
"SHHH!" Brad held his finger to his lips. "Just relax man. Relax..."
He started to fondle Jim's balls, then slowly caressed Jim's willing shaft. Already, tingles of pleasure were creeping down Jim's strong spine.
"Oh my... oh yea dude. Shit man, this feel's.... awesome." He took a deep breath in and out.
Brad began to lick the head, and then wrapped his lips around it. He started down and up. Slowly, slowly.... a little faster now...
"Awwww shit dude!!!! Oh...Awwwwwww yeaaaa!"
It was the most intense feeling of pleasure that he'd ever experienced - that anyone would ever experience.
Brad kept going.... a little faster now, even faster. He was amazing.
It became too much for Jim to handle. He let out a joyous roar as he climaxed, spooj practically flying across the room.
He slid down the the floor, his back gliding against the wet tile walls, and just breatehd heavily for a few moments, his tongue hanging to the side, like a dog. He didn't even notice that Brad had left for a second, and then returned, wearing a jock strap, and holding another in hand. He tossed it over to Jim.
"It might be a little too small for you, but with that package, I think it's the best we can do" he winked. "I found some other shit for us to wear too."
Jim got up. "Thanks."
After they were done changing into some pants and shirts (they weren't any shoes they could find that were big enough for them; they'd go barefoot for now) the young men headed for the door. They hadn't said a word to each other for a few minutes.
"Y'know," Brad said. "I don't think my 'rents are gonna be around for a while. You can visit at my place for a little if you want."
"Oh, and don't forget to turn off the lights."
Jim hit the switch as Brad opened the door, and the room went black.
The next morning, Bradley Staley woke up from his bed in a cold sweat, panting.
"It was a dream. It must have been." He felt like he had a hangover.
"Maybe I should go get a glass of water."
He got up from his bed, turned on the light, and headed for the kitchen not even noticing the oversized jock strap that he was wearing...
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