The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a soft orange glow over the university's aquatic center. The swim team and water polo practice had just wrapped up, the pool's surface still rippling faintly from the chaos of drills and scrimmages. The air smelled of chlorine and sweat, a familiar cocktail for anyone who lived in the water. The team had filed out, their laughter and banter echoing through the tiled halls as they hit the showers, changed, and headed off into the evening. Everyone, that is, except Milo Tanner.
Milo was 5'6", wiry but strong, with the kind of lean muscle that came from years of slicing through water. He was the star of the water polo team, a scrappy playmaker with a knack for threading impossible shots past towering goalies. But for all his skill in the pool, Milo carried a quiet insecurity that clung to him like damp swim trunks. He lingered by the edge of the pool, pretending to adjust his goggles or fiddle with his towel, waiting until the locker room emptied out. It was a ritual he'd perfected--letting the others shower and leave first. Not because he was shy about his body, but because of what hung between his legs.
Milo was blessed--or cursed, depending on the day--with a comically enormous penis. Flaccid, it swung low and thick, a pendulum that could've doubled as a pool float. His balls matched the absurdity, heavy and full, like they belonged to some exaggerated cartoon character. He'd heard the snickers in middle school, the wide-eyed stares in high school, and he'd learned early on to avoid the inevitable teasing. So he waited. Always.
Tonight, the locker room was silent, the last of his teammates' footsteps fading down the hall. Milo slipped inside, dropping his towel on a bench and peeling off his snug water polo suit. The fabric clung stubbornly to his thighs, and when it finally came free, his massive endowment flopped out, swaying slightly as he stepped toward the showers. He let out a small, relieved sigh. Alone at last.
Or so he thought...
The door creaked open just as he turned on the water, and in strode Coach Vanessa Hart. At 5'11", she towered over most of her players, her presence commanding even out of the pool. She was a former swimming and water polo champion, her name still etched on plaques in the aquatic center's hall of fame. Her body was a masterpiece-- curvaceous yet toned, with long, powerful legs and a rear that could've stopped traffic. But it was her chest that defied belief: massively unbelievable breasts, straining against the fabric of her coaching polo, a sight that had distracted more than one player during practice. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy bun, damp from the humid air, and her sharp green eyes scanned the room absently as she walked in, clipboard in hand.She froze mid-step.
Milo yelped, a high-pitched sound that bounced off the tiles, and instinctively lunged for cover, his hands flailing toward his groin. It was a hopeless endeavor. His penis--thick, veiny, and absurdly long--swung wildly with the sudden movement, slapping against his thigh with a wet thwack. His balls, equally oversized, jostled like pendulous fruit, refusing to stay still. He twisted his body, trying to press himself against the shower wall, but the sheer mass of his endowment defied containment. It flopped to the side, dangling nearly to his knee, the head a plump, rosy crown that glistened under the shower's spray. His hands hovered, grasping at air, then clutching futilely at the base, where his fingers couldn't even wrap halfway around the girth.
"Coach Hart! I--uh--I thought everyone was gone!" he stammered, his voice cracking as he shuffled sideways, his giant, unruly member swaying like a rogue firehose.
Water streamed down his back, matting his short, sandy hair to his forehead, and his wide brown eyes darted around in panic.Vanessa's clipboard slipped slightly in her grip as her gaze locked onto the spectacle before her. Her lips parted, and for a moment, she was utterly speechless, her mind racing to process the sheer magnitude of what she was seeing. She'd been with men before--plenty of them, in her wilder college days and beyond. She'd seen cocks of all shapes and sizes: the modest five-inchers that got the job done, the proud seven-inchers that strutted their stuff, even the occasional eight-inch show-off that thought it ruled the world. But this? This was a different beast entirely.
Milo's penis hung there, flaccid yet monstrous, a slab of flesh that looked like it belonged in a pornographic fever dream. The shaft was thick as her wrist, roped with veins that pulsed faintly under the skin, stretching down at least ten--no, twelve?--inches, maybe more, she couldn't tell from this angle. The head was a bulbous masterpiece, wider than the shaft, flushed a deep pink that darkened toward the tip. It swayed with every twitch of his nervous body, slapping against his lean thighs with a meaty thud. And his balls--God, his balls--were like oversized plums, heavy and low-hanging, swinging in tandem with the rest of him, dusted with a faint sheen of sandy hair that caught the light.She blinked, realizing she was staring, but her eyes wouldn't obey her command to look away. Compared to the biggest she'd ever seen--an eight-and-a-half-inch guy from her championship days who'd been cocky as hell--this was... obscene. That guy's dick had been a sleek, manageable weapon; Milo's was a blunt-force battering ram, a cartoonish exaggeration that defied physics. She estimated it at thirteen inches, maybe fourteen, soft--and the thought of what it might look like hard made her throat go dry.
"I... uh..." she started, her voice catching. She cleared her throat, forcing her eyes up to his face, though they snapped back down like a rubber band stretched too far. "Milo, I didn't realize you were still here. I was just--um--checking the roster."
Milo's face was a furnace of embarrassment, glowing red as he twisted again, trying to cup his hands over himself. The effort only made it worse--his penis slipped free, flopping downward with a heavy bounce, then swinging back up to smack his stomach before settling into its relentless dangle.
