It's his worst nightmare. Small penis humiliation.
Everyone in the story is over eighteen. Is a third chapter needed? What would happen?
^^^^
"I need a large cock," Albert said.
His hands were jammed in his coat pockets so he didn't touch anything. He stood in front of a glass counter shuffling his feet. The concrete floor was old and dirty. He moved out of fear that if he didn't, all the sweat and grime of the seedy patrons would contaminate him.
He was creeped out to be in the sex shop again. It was eleven o'clock in the morning. The place looked squalid and sad.
The same overweight, depressed, crone who'd waited on him last time was there. An unfiltered cigarette dangled from her mouth. She responded to his request. "Don't we all, hon."
She laughed at her joke. A flicker of recognition showed in her eyes. She remembered Albert.
"Need another one so soon?" she queried.
"Yeah. The other one went over so well, I'm buying a second for some unsuspecting sorority girl as part of a Secret Santa gift exchange."
He didn't tell her that he'd decided to keep the other one, the monster ten-incher that he'd bought earlier and that he'd used on the four gorgeous co-eds he'd met on the subway. He hoped it would continue to be the lure that caused them to have sex with him.
The tired grandmother pulled the same two models as last time out of the case and placed the huge phalli in front of Albert. They were beige in color and over-sized versions of the male organ.
He looked in his wallet. He was running low on cash. He said, "I'll take the smaller one."
"Yes, sir," the toothless sales clerk said.
She took his money and returned with his change. She put the fake prick in a plain paper bag and Albert was on his way to the subway. This time he looked both ways before stepping off the sidewalk.
He didn't trust the flashing crosswalk sign that beckoned all pedestrians to cross the busy avenue because last time, a cyclist ignored the signal and ran him over.
He returned to his room in the frat house. He wrapped the novelty item in festive holiday paper, had lunch with some fraternity brothers, and then, did some school work.
Two hours later, he closed the book he'd been reading for his Western Civilization class, yawned, and stretched. His mind drifted. He reminisced about last night, which had been the most amazing night of his life.
He said out loud, "Did that happen to me? Yes. I fucked four beautiful women."
He smiled, recalling the "perfect storm", the improbable sequence of events the led to his bedding the beauties.
"Should I attempt to deceive them again?" Albert asked himself. "Hell yes!" he answered.
"Their lust and intoxicated state allowed me to trick them last time. What's the chance that I can pull it off again?"
He stood, paced about his room, and answered his own question.
"Zero? Maybe one in a million. But the reward! Sweet Jesus! The reward is so great! Primo pussy the likes of which a geek like me will never have the chance to sample again unless I become a billionaire."
He sat and considered the issue.
"How can I prevent them from discovering I'm a fraud? I needed to be smart and lucky. My biggest hurdle is to overcome their natural curiosity and desire to see, touch and suck on the big unit. I have to convince them to have sex in positions where they can't see that I'm masturbating them with a dildo.
"Control. I have to be in control," he concluded.
"I want to try and have sex with them again, but I don't t know their last names or anyone's phone number. I do know where they live. I'll go to their place."
He grabbed his wallet, keys and the massively thick, ten-inch dildo. He shoved it down the front of his pants. He put on his winter coat. It was long enough to hide the bulge in his pants. He marched out of the room saying, "I have to try."
As he walked across campus to the subway, he began humming "The Impossible Dream" a song from the play "Man of La Mancha". It seemed appropriate. To bolster his resolve, he sang in a low voice,
"This is my quest
To follow that star
No matter how hopeless
No matter how far
To fight for the right
Without question or pause
To be willing to march into Hell
For a heavenly cause
And I know if I'll only be true
To this glorious quest
That my heart will lie peaceful and calm
When I'm laid to my rest
And the world will be better for this
That one man, scorned and covered with scars
Still strove with his last ounce of courage
To reach the unreachable star."
Not surprisingly, Albert received many odd looks from other pedestrians. Who goes around in public singing? He was given a wide berth by students who worried that he might be dangerous, deranged or on drugs.
"Hey, Albert. Why are you singing? Are you a theater major or planning on trying out for a play?" a cute co-ed asked him.
She stepped in front of him, forcing him to stop. He'd been so focused on his mission, his quixotic quest for pussy, that he didn't realize that he had been singing out loud. He was embarrassed, flustered and stuttered, "Ah. Ah. Ah."
The young college student thought he was babbling because he didn't recognize her. She said, "It's Lulu."
His face was blank. She gave him more clues to jog his memory.
"Lulu? We hooked up in your bed two months ago? I was drunk and wouldn't leave."