Growth Spurt

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Note to readers:

This story is being told a few months after Nude Day 2021. In terms of events, the story is total fiction, with all characters made up, and at least 18 years old, and American, and maybe ethnically diverse. The growth/shrinkage range of 'Steve,' however, does exist. The author's own equipment has that range.)

***

I'm a late bloomer, which is a hell of a lot better than the never-bloomer I was afraid I was. Somehow, everything clicked two years ago, when I was 24. My new job actually found me, because people who'd left my old workplace spread the word and a headhunter swooped in. Along about then I finished shedding my baby fat, and started to look okay, by the standards many women seem to use for judging young men. Suddenly I had confidence (without arrogance), and a personality, and some women said yes when I asked them for dates. There soon followed sex, in frequency and variety like I'd never had before.

As a result, I found out that what I am is a grower.

See, my interest in other human bodies goes only to women. I never paid attention to men. Showering after gym class? Couldn't care less about the other naked guys. From what little I can recall, their attitude was vice versa. I therefore had no idea that some men don't go from small when flaccid to big when erect, they stay kinda the same size, and stiffen and loosen from that. I learned this indirectly, from a very pleasant experience.

It was a no-strings one-nighter with a woman I'll call Beth. We enjoyed the sex and she invited me to stay the night. I did, and awoke to morning wood. Beth woke up, saw that, and liked the idea, but wanted a bathroom trip first. I did the same when she was done. When I got back to bed, she looked at the aftermath of my urination, frowned, and asked, "What happened?"

Turns out we were both sparse in experience, and Beth had only been with guys who didn't shrink. I told her that some TLC would get me to a respectable boner. She was relieved, and we had a nice morning-after bang. Thus, I learned that other men didn't enlarge the way I did. And I didn't care.

This year, though, I learned that I'm not just different from show-ers (pronounced like men who show off, not like rain, or what you take when standing in a bathtub). I'm even different from other growers.

I don't care about that, either. I gotta say, though, this discovery led to my wildest sex ever. It might never happen again, but it was really great, which is why I'm writing this.

Beth and I and some other people we know, and/or dated, lined up the rental of a furnished house in a resort area, through a certain app that I won't name because I'm not getting paid to promote it. Four men, four women, acquainted anywhere from nodding awareness to sex partnership. All of us okay with the possibility that, across genders, the knowledge level might move all the way to carnal.

This was timed to National Nude Day, to which we all said 'Yeah, right,' without trying to find out if that really existed. Look, we were all bonkers because of COVID-19, and when lockdown lifted, we used Nude Day as an excuse. We were also at the right age and situation for something like this, all with good jobs, and healthy, single, and able to decide spontaneously to do something new and different. We all had flex hours, or work-at-home options carried over from the lockdown, and the rental was cheap for Tuesday-to-Thursday.

The women made it clear that they were as up for this as the men. My late-blooming self saw this as a way to make up for lost time.

I'll skip over the Tuesday night argument over who'd do the cooking and cleaning, and the too much drinking during the horror movie. Nobody took initiative then to go nude. I think we were all scared about that, when faced with actually doing it.

Our nervousness carried over to that night's sleeping arrangements. I slept alone, and so did most everyone else. There was some snarking and sniping about what had gone on earlier. Beth was ticked off at everyone in general, wondering aloud why she had agreed to do this, so I didn't come on to her. I think one couple sacked out together, but I don't know that for sure.

Early Wednesday everybody was just zoning out on phone apps. But then there were games that had been planned, to help us loosen up. They were fun, mostly.

People apologized for the previous night.

I think everyone knew that this was also Bastille Day, or did a decent job faking that they knew. One of the women, I'll call her Karlee, definitely knew. She even did something to tie the two events together. She retreated to a bedroom, then joined us again. She carried a little French flag, and wore a shapeless brown cap, and over her jeans a long t-shirt that looked wrinkled, or something, on the right shoulder and sleeve.

"You know that Delacroix painting?" she asked everybody, waving the flag in her right hand.

Crickets.

Then a vague image got into my head, and I stifled a laugh. "You mean the one where, uh, Lady Liberty is, like, leading the revolution?"

She pointed at me, grinning. "That's the one."

She waved the flag in long swoops, and declared, "Liberté! Egalité! Fraternité!"

Then, with her left hand, she snatched at her right shoulder and pulled away fabric that had been velcro'd together. This exposed her small, high, light brown, dark-nippled breasts. "Nudité!"

We all applauded and cheered. Karlee had fired the first shot on Nude Day, although unlike the bare-boobed woman in the painting, she didn't carry a gun.

It didn't take long for the rest of us to join her nude revolution.

That led to some making out, without anyone getting drunk, so I guess we were more than lockdown crazy, we actually liked each other.

The guys asked permission before getting to advanced gropes, and the gals did too, and we laughed a lot, and didn't bother ducking into bedrooms.

I was, I think, polite and considerate to a woman I'll call Laurie, and she was pleased by that. We had each been a little shy towards the other, and then relieved to find that the other was nice.

We fondled and kissed. Here's a key point: By the time I shed my drawers, I was already erect.

Then Laurie and I barebacked.

She and I kept making out after the sex, joking and tickling and laughing, and we weren't alone. Thanks to Nude Day, we all felt really free.

Anyway, the gunk on my groin dried up to where it got itchy, so I went into a bathroom and, among other things, washed off. When I got back to the living room, Beth looked at me, smiled, and said, "Back to space-saver mode?"

I just smiled in return. I found my t-shirt and put it on. I heard one of the women say "Huh?" and then Beth said, "Steve's a grower," sounding like an expert.

My dork had really accordioned inward. Sometimes it does that more than at other times. Don't know, don't care, doesn't matter. Except right then.

Laurie looked curiously at my crotch. "It was

a lot

bigger before."

"How much?" asked Chris, the only male who looked interested. I don't think

that

way, maybe just as a guy who thought a lot about how he stacked up.

I didn't see my pants right away, so I was still half-nude when Beth, looking pleased in her blonde curvy nudity, stood up. "I brought my sewing kit, in case I got really bored." She rummaged in her backpack, and pulled out a cloth measuring tape. She looked at me and asked, "You mind?"

Even then, I didn't care. It helped that I'd just satisfied one of the women, and was a proven partner to the one with the tape measure. "Nah. Go ahead."

She set the end tab at my pubic bone and extended the tape to the limit of my limp, wrinkled dong. Some other people closed in, which I admit seemed weird.

A woman I'll call Gail was the most intrigued, maybe on the verge of freaked out. "Two inches," she said, staring at my nubbin, so short that it was only horizontal, not even able to point down. "If, like, I saw this at a nude beach, I'd have to stop myself from laughing." She shifted her searching look to my eyes. "And it feels okay? When it, uh, expands and contracts?"

I shrugged. "I've lived with it my whole life. I don't feel anything when it settles down. What I feel when it enlarges is usually really good."

"Always this tiny?" Gail asked, straightening up. She was dressed now, but a while ago I had enjoyed the sight of her nude, with her tall lean frame and straight brown hair. Okay, yeah, I enjoy the sight of

any

nude woman. I hoped that Nude Day really was A Thing, and that it'd happen every week.

"No," I admitted. "Sometimes it relaxes, I don't know, maybe twice this size. I'm not in the habit of dropping trou and measuring."

In the time I'd been around her, Gail had a bland resting face. I'd seen her smile a few times. I had never seen her intense and awe-struck, which she was now.

She asked, "May I suck it?"

Now, I have some control over my excitement, and I realized that this was the time to exert it. She wanted me this small, so I tried to stay that way. "You may," I said, probably not as calmly as I hoped. I lay down on a sofa, on my back.

Everybody else gathered around for a clear, close look.

Gail knelt, swept her hair behind her shoulder, leaned to my crotch, and got into her mouth the whole mini-cock, plus both balls.

My excitement control gave up. At first, though, there was only a little flex along the shaft, which fit easily along the roof of her mouth. Her tongue probed and spread everywhere, and she was able to get it behind the balls while enclosing everything else with her lips. Then my expansion made that impractical.

"Mmrrmm," she said, then parting lips enough to say "Oh yeah!" Then she enclosed me again, with another "Mmmmrrrrmmmm!"

It was the most wonderful sensation of my life. A warm, wet mouth on and around all of my places that most want to be touched. More nerve endings wanted in on this, and they forced surface skin to arise, and push apart the wrinkles.

I heard Chris say "Whooaah!" when he saw what I saw, that Gail stuffed a hand down the front of her jeans.

Then, as my growth forced her mouth to relinquish my stones, she brought in her other hand to rub them, geeking me even more. "Oh yeah yeah," she gasped between sucks of the thickening shaft. "Growwww!"

One of the onlookers, at least, wasn't paralyzed with a dropped jaw. Karlee took my hand and slapped a wrapped condom into the palm. I grinned my gratitude to her.

Gail, now gulping only most of my cock, used both hands to unzip her jeans and drag them past her hips. I couldn't see much detail, as she jerked to pull off her sneakers and then get her legs free of fabric, but the state of her underwear as it was peeled away was relayed by Beth's stare, and her voice: "Soaked!"

By the time Gail put both hands back to work I was erect and urgent. I didn't know how she wanted to finish, but stripping her lower half was a strong clue. I put both hands behind my head to tear the condom foil, fighting down the desire built by her mouth on the top half, one hand yanking the bottom half, and the other hand mangling the balls. Only the recent fuck of Laurie kept me from blasting immediately.

"Almost there," I yelped.

Gail lifted up quickly and brought her trunk forward. I hurried to roll down the condom.

She mounted me. Her vaginal squeeze shot pleasure through me, tying me in knots. Her eyes closed tightly.

A few people laughed. I was told later that, at the same moment, with the same cross-handed start, Gail and I stripped our t-shirts.

Then there was a lot of howling and jerking, and I spewed, and I'm pretty sure she came. I got a hand on one of her tits and maybe squeezed too hard. If I were a more experienced lover, I might have done better. Yet from the way we ended up as a sweaty hugging mess, I think it ended well for her.

She smiled in a way that might have been nasty or sated or both. I didn't know her that well. "That was great!" she said hoarsely. "Your cock is DIY! And I did it myself!"

"I'll always try," I said, with a laugh both exhausted and nervous, "to be a shrimp for you."

I heard Chris's voice. "Mine starts pretty small too." Then there was general laughter.

The tape measure provided some more novelty. I 'won' whatever this was, by going from two inches to seven. Chris was a more standard grower, going from four inches to six, then getting a thanks-for-playing bang from Beth.

The guys who were show-ers then tried to commandeer the tape measure for the even less mature data gathering of the women's breast dimensions. All eight breasts were on excellent display at the time, but the women clapped back on the two guys who hadn't been measured. Laurie said that first they had to have their assholes measured, both diameter and depth. Beth snatched back her tape measure and said it definitely wouldn't be used for that. The show-ers backed off, trying to laugh it away, and there were no hard feelings. I think.

What you actually want to know, of course, are the details from all the sex that weekend, and from being nude, including out by the pool, and in it, and grooving on our shared body freedom. I could put in a whole lot more about our skinny dipping, and the grabass that ensued. Okay, here's one thing, as silly as what went on with my dick.

So, we're all on the pool deck, nude. Gail was on a deck chair, scrolling her phone. Suddenly she yelled, "You guys! Look at this!"

We all gathered around, even those who don't identify as guys.

Gail held out the phone, showing a search result. "This is

also

National Tape Measure Day!"

Too funny. Now we all questioned the existence of everything connected to July 14, including Bastille Day. Beth went inside, got out her tape measure, and held it aloft as she marched it around the pool, while Karlee mouth-trumpeted the Marseillaise.

But you want to know more, right? Details like, why did Laurie let me bareback, and why did Karlee know that Gail needed a condom?

I mean, who cares if I'm an outlier among growers? I care a little, because it got Gail so amped. I'd definitely want other, like-minded women to enjoy my difference, suck me from a sprout, and then ride my tree.

That didn't happen again. That night I slept with Karlee, and we had 'plain' 'ordinary' sex, which for a late bloomer was awesome. And we talked about stuff. You know, stuff.

On Thursday, after our sorta-kinda brunch and before we had to clear out, Karlee took me aside and said she liked how I wasn't defensive about growing and shrinking. And we talked some more about stuff.

But stuff that became serious and emotional belongs in some other writing. The growing of my dick for a lover, and a crowd, on Nude Day, was just plain silly. I'm writing about it here, because it's my wildest sex ever. Just no longer my best.