Michael looked over from his spot on his bed next to Art, "Something wrong?"

"Yeah, this picture's due tomorrow in art class, and I can't seem to get the proportion of the angle right."

Michael looked at the picture. it was an image of a scantily clad male angel, "It looks good to me."

"Yeah, but it doesn't look like I want it to!"

Michael rolled off the bed, "Calm down, Picasso...." He walked into his bathroom out of sight, "I think I might have something that'll help..."

Art busied himself making adjustments to the image, half paying attention, "Yeah? What might that be?"

"What do you think? Will this help...?"

Art looked up as Michael came to stand two feet in front of him. He dropped his pencil and sketchbook as his jaw hit the floor. Standing there in front of him was Michael in nothing more than a pair of maroon bikini briefs. In a hushed voice, all he could say was "Wow....!"

If Michael looked good in his clothes, he looked spectacular without them! His deep bronzed skin was naturally hairless and flawless from head to toe. His chest was plump and rounded with big beefy pecs, and the sudden exposure to the air had hardened his dark, dime-sized nipples. So small, in fact, that they looked almost funny mounted on his bloated chest.

His lats were broad like that of a gymnast, tapering with an atttractive curve down to his narrow waist and hips. His traps were thickly mounded around his neck, and flowed smoothly into delts that vaguely resembled cantelopes. Even unflexed, his biceps curved the countour of his arm outward, and accentuated the full bellied bulk of his delts. His abs were an exquisite eight-pack of rippled muscular symmetry. Below the waist, his thighs were immaculate. Bulging and curvaceous, Art's eyes wandered longingly over each diamond shaped quad. As his eyes travelled, he noticed for the first time that Michael was quite well-endowed.. The briefs for their part were strained at the very least; packed and filled out to the point of near bursting from the sheer stress. So large were his cock and lemon sized balls that they were disproportionately large to the rest of his more-than-impressive physique.

Unable to stop himself, Art blurted out, "What size briefs do you wear?!"

Micheal looked down at himself, puzzled, "Men's, X-Large. Why....?"

Stunned, Art spoke plainly, "Wow!"

Michael looked at him, scratching his head in bewilderment. "I don't get it. What's the big deal?"

"Michael....you have the biggest dick I've ever seen!"

Michael blushed modestly. "Really?"

"Yeah! Haven't you ever....ya know, compared?"

"Well....no. It never really mattered to me enough to check. Just figured I was a bit bigger than average."

Art shook his head, amazed at Michael's innocence. "Haven't you ever been with anyone?"

"What? Ya mean sexually?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure someone would've noticed!"

Suddenly appearing vulnerable, Michael averted his gaze. "No", he mumbled.

Art gazed at Michael, seemingly in a new light. Body of a god, face of an angel, cock of a porn star, and never been laid! Holy shit! "Michael, you are truly beautiful."

Michael's face turned the color of his briefs. Changing the subject, he spoke up. "Anyway, I thought you just needed the right inspiration."

Michael assumed a seductive pose as Art grabbed his sketchbook and pencil.... •