I thought I would try writing some short stories while I was recovering. These are different than the Life after the Lottery series. Let me know what you think. If you like them, I may have an entire series of these. Drmac100. Copyright LATL, 2016.
Freaks of Nature. No. 1
Jimmy the plumber
"James McMann --Plumbing. Full-Service Day or Night."
At least, that is what had been painted on the side of my new black van. Since my father had retired from the business two years ago, I took the McMann and Son's Plumbing off. He and my mother were now living in Tijuana off his retirement from his company. He left everything to me and retired at 60. Here I was at 25 running a plumbing company. Things hadn't gone the way pop, and I had thought they would.
My brother and sister were older than me; I had been a bouncing baby late in my mom's life. My mom and dad are tall. My mom is 5'11" and my dad 6'4". By 8th grade, I was 6'5" and loved sports. My dad came to every basketball game and football game and cheered me on. I was the athlete my brother had not turned out to be. By high school, I was playing wide receiver full-time and was good at it. By my junior year in high school, I was being scouted by the colleges.
I was tall and muscular, the way they wanted wide receivers if they could get them for college. I knew some of the other guys in the area built like I was and were playing the same position. The colleges liked us for our size; they liked me because I was the best. My senior year I signed with USC, I didn't want to move too far from home. All the guys I knew signed somewhere. We were what they wanted, tall, muscular, fast and knees that weren't worth a shit. That came from being so tall. In my senior year of high school, I spent the winter and spring doing PT and getting steroid injections to keep my knees going.
I got a full ride at USC, everything paid for, including medical expenses. That was standard for all the athletes. A great student I had not been, but they got me good tutors to help me get through school. I was getting by, doing okay in class and great at training. Everyone was expecting me to perform my freshman year.
Some of the problems started after the first practice with the team. Once we finished, we were all in the shower horsing around. About half way through showering, the seniors brought in three of the hot cheerleaders to shower with us. I soon found out this was a regular thing. Whatever cheerleaders showed up each time usually ended up getting fucked on the shower floor or in the locker room before it was over. Like I said, this was where my illustrious football career in college got off to a start.
Besides my height I had inherited from my mother and father; I had inherited his freakish cock. I was big, very big. I had little opportunity for sex with young women; I just didn't fit. Hell, most of them couldn't give me a blowjob because their mouth was too small. I tried to hide it as much as I could, but that was hard to do because it had a mind of its own. My dad had told me that I would find women for sex, he had. My mom even told me that she got used to it and loved my dad's cock now. My brother always made fun of me because he didn't inherit that feature from my dad.
Anyway, I was doing fine in the shower after the first practice. Flaccid, it was still large, but other guys were large too, but their cocks didn't grow like mine when they got erect. I was trying to get in and out of the shower, before the comments started, that was up until three naked cheerleaders showed up. This stunt during the first practice I found out was a hazing for the freshmen mostly. I thought it was a pretty good hazing. When the girls showed up, they kissed and played with the seniors first; I got the impression that the seniors had sex with these women often. After that, the teasing started. I knew it was going to be trouble.
"Hey, Jimmy!" Mark the quarterback yelled at me. We had had a good day playing throw to the new guy. "Meet Krissi! She showers with us often." He was saying as he walked over to me with an arm around a big tit blonde. I turned around to see her.
"Whoa!" Krissi said looking at my cock.
"Damn, Jimmy. Where did you get that thing? Where you raised near a nuclear reactor or something!!" Mark exclaimed. Several of the guys laughed. Now I was in trouble because Krissi was hot.
"Hi, Jimmy," she said standing there wet and naked, sneaking looks at my cock.
"Hey buddy, we bring the cheerleaders in the first shower so the seniors can see how the new guys stack up. So far, it looks like you are on top of the totem pole. Krissi, Jennifer, and Ginger or going to help us decide who ranks number one in the freshman class!" Mark said.
Krissi moved to me and grabbed my cock. I knew trouble was going to follow.
"My god!" She said as she wrapped her hand around my already growing cock.
She wrapped one hand around it and stroked. As her eyes got bigger, she wrapped her other hand around it.
"Damn, James," one of the black guys said. "You must be part black to have a cock that big!" Everyone laughed.
Jennifer and Ginger were teasing several of the other guys. Ginger was stroking two guys at one time.
"Fuck, Jimmy. You may not only be top of the freshman class; you may be the top of the team! How big is that fucking thing?"
"Too big," I said.
"No such thing, man!" One of the other black guys said as Ginger stroked his impressive cock.
It was doing its thing, growing to full size as Krissi played with it. I really didn't have much control over it.
"Fuck, I can't even get my hand around it now!" Krissi said.
I was now the center of attention as everybody had moved closer. Krissi was pumping me like crazy now to see how big I would get. After several minutes, everyone knew how big I would get.
"God damn, Jimmy!!" The quarterback said. A lot of the other guys were making comments.
"Hell to the new king!" The QB yelled, then he and the sophomores, juniors and seniors put their hands up and started bowing up and down at me.
I was swollen up all the way. Somewhere around 11 inches and big around enough it took a woman with big hands to wrap one around it. Krissi was pumping it with both hands as she looked. Ginger, the shapely black girl, walked up.
"Oh my! That is bigger than anything I have seen in my neighborhood. Go ahead Krissi." She said.
"I don't think I can."
I learned later on that the cheerleaders usually gave the biggest freshman a blowjob in the shower.
"Oh, honey! Let momma!" Ginger said as she pushed Krissi away. I watched Ginger get down on her knees and grab my cock with both hands. She opened her mouth wide and slid it over the end of my cock and went to work.
"Damn, Ginger!" Jennifer said as she walked up. "Swallow that thing!"
When I got the occasional treat of a woman that could get some or most of me in her mouth, I loved it. Ginger had the end in her mouth and was sliding up and down on it about five inches or more. Her lips were tight around my cock. She held it with both hands as she worked. After a few minutes, she slipped her mouth off.
"Oh, my! You are huge!" She looked up at me and smiled as she pumped my cock. "I gotta have this thing in me, baby!"
"Woo! Hoo!!" came up from the guys.
Ginger was still on her knees looking at my cock as she pumped it with both hands.
"That thing is not a cock! It is a fucking pole!!" QB Mark yelled.
"Pole! Pole! Pole! Pole!" They started chanting.
That is where the nickname "The Pole" came from. It seemed to catch on around campus when football season started. I would catch a pass and be running down the field and would hear the crowd chanting "Pole! Pole! Pole!" Sometimes, I would get the giggles because almost everyone on campus thought that was my nickname because I was tall.
By my sophomore year, I had become well known. I would get to the football games and see all these signs being held up with "We Want The Pole" on them. All the guys on the team would laugh when they saw them, along with the cheerleaders. I had become famous with the cheerleaders since that shower my freshman year, and because Ginger had talked me into going to her apartment and fucking me. She was a senior and lived off campus with another girl. It was quite a night with the two of them my first week of college.
My junior year the scouts were already talking about me forgoing my senior year and going into the draft. School wasn't my thing, so by the end of the year, I had announced I would forgo my senior year. When we got to the bowl game at the end of the year, I was all over the news and TV. All the scouts were there because I could not commit to the draft just yet.
All the guys and cheerleaders laughed hysterically when we saw the signs that said "We Want The Pole!" being carried into the championship game by fans. We knew the signs would be all over national TV.
The school had found three or four women that had gotten most of my cock in them on a regular basis during my first three years to keep the number one wide receiver happy. The only successful girls was a 6'4" basketball player named Heather. She worked it all into her over some time then had a wonderful time with me. We saw each other a lot my junior year. So that was where my college career was going.
It was the last half of the 4th quarter in the championship game. We were down by 3, and the quarterback hit me on the run about 40 yards down the field. I had 15 yards to go to score; then I was hit.
The replay made all the news and sports shows for a week. I thought I was in the open when I caught the ball and turned to run down field. I didn't see the guy from the other team running across the field toward me, all I remember was the pain. He had dived and hit my right knee with his shoulder pad at full speed.
In the emergency room, I watched the TV as it showed them putting an inflatable cast on my leg and sliding me onto a board and loading me on a cart. The replay showed my knee bending in directions that God had not designed a knee to bend.
My dad had come from the stands, and they had let him ride to the hospital with the assistant coaches. He was there telling me things would be alright. I vaguely remember the sound of the MRI machine earlier; I was on some pretty good drugs in the ER. I was sitting up in the bed watching the TV. We did win, but all the announcers kept saying I probably would be out the next season and that my signing with pros now didn't look good.
I looked through the window to the outer room and saw my coach talking to three guys I knew were pro scouts. The doctor was with him with the MRI. They talked and looked at the MRI. I watched as my coach shook his head no and shook the scouts' hands and the three of them turned and left. Coach looked in at me then came through the door to my bed.
As best as he and the doctor could tell me, my career was over. I remember him listing all of the ligaments that had been torn out, including my ACL. My dad took it the hardest. He was so looking forward to me playing pro ball and not having to be a plumber.
So that was how my football career went. I was exactly what the pros were looking for then; tall, well-built receivers. That was what I was. But one of the curses of being very tall was having glass knees.
I finished my senior year; I had to stay so they would keep paying for the surgeries and rehab. I finally graduated with a degree in General Studies. That would take me far for sure. When I walked across the stage to get my diploma I was still on crutches. Everyone stood and cheered and started shouting "Pole!" over and over until the president of the college got the crowd back under control.
Three years later now I was picking up my new van with just my name on it. The limp wasn't too bad and thank god in LA it didn't get cold. The van looked nice. I had bought a black utility van and had my name and number put on it in white. I didn't have all the silly shit painted on it that my dad had had on his van forever. I just had the "Full-Service Day or Night" painted under my name.
Things weren't too bad. I had been helping my dad since I was fourteen. I got my license at 18 because I knew everything and everyone knew my dad. That was where I got the majority of my customers from, people calling to ask for him. I now got to tell them it was just me, and he had retired.
A plumber made good money in that part of California if you stayed busy. I averaged about $275 an hour. I went all over LA and surrounding areas. It would just be me and my new van now. I worked all over the area and all hours of the day. I had no girlfriend or social life to speak off. A lot of my friends would call and want me to come to a party or something. After a year out of college, I stopped going to the parties. All they wanted to talk about was the good 'old football days. I didn't go anymore.
It was Friday morning, and I had scheduled the day off, so I could pick up my new van and take it back to the shop and move all my tools into it. Sam, the painter, kept asking me if that was all I wanted on the van. I told him yes, we settled and I headed back to the shop. By noon, I had the majority of my tools arranged in the new big van. I was sitting and eating lunch when our old office number range in the shop. I walked over and picked it up.
"McMann Plumbing."
"Is this McMann and Son Plumbing!" A female shouted into the phone.
