The traditional rite of an autumn weekend is fast football, cold beer, and good friends. But Jim was not the kind of guy who enjoyed football. He was also not the kind of guy to swill gallons of cold beer. And he certainly didn't have many friends.
Jim Handy was a young and promising architect who specialized in upscale residential buildings in the recently revitalized downtown area. His bookish appearance fit well into his chosen field - being average height with slender build he looked like most of the young architects in the city. His sandy-blond hair was cut short to reveal small elfish ears, a slender nose, and big green eyes. He was no rugged Tom Selleck or Marlboro man, but he was also not unattractive.
At least he had done well enough to have captured the finger (if not entirely the heart) of the beautiful Allison. Amazing as it seems, the dark-haired, dark-eyed vixen had been his wife for almost three years now. Jim was never truly sure if she found him attractive, or just enjoyed the fruits of his successful architecture business. Not that they didn't have great times together. Or even that they didn't share common interests and dreams. It's just that something never quite seemed "complete," like there was something secret and hidden that just had not come to the surface. But at least their sex life was great. The best Jim had ever had, in fact. Allison was wild in bed and kept Jim always wondering if he could top their previous bedroom encounter.
Allison was easy-going and fun and always surrounded by friends. Today was going to be their big annual weekend football party. Allison's plan was to invite as many friends over as possible and drink as much beer as possible before the game was over. And that is exactly what happened. The party was a success and at least twenty (or more) people shared their little house and enjoyed their hospitality.
Except it was not entirely what Jim enjoyed. Jim never understood football entirely, although he always found the commercials sliced in between the various plays endlessly amusing. And Jim didn't care much for beer - a fact that lead him to consume far too many margaritas. And Jim had no good friends to invite over, so all the friends were, in fact, Allison's. But Jim still managed to have a good time until people started filtering out of the house after the game was over. It is strange how differently people choose to exit a party. Some people bolted for the door as fast as a stallion the minute the beer and snacks ran out. Some people lingered a little and talked to Allison before meandering out the door and to their parked cars. But the last person to linger was a new friend of Allison's named Shaun.
Shaun was a very striking man. He was by far the largest man Jim had ever seen. Not that he was fat; he was just a huge, athletic, and very well proportioned man. He stood at a little over six-foot, ten-inches tall and was as wide in the shoulders as a subzero refrigerator (and nearly as thick). He was as black as an eight-ball on a dirty pool table and had hands the size of bear claws. He had a deep, booming voice and the largest, brightest smile Jim has probably ever seen. Jim had heard that Shaun had once been to prison when he was younger, back when he was a semi-pro lineman for the local football team. But you would never guess it by the way he dressed. Always sharp, with crisp slacks, a silk shirt (unbuttoned halfway down), and the cleanest haircut a man can have. He was a remarkable looking man, and it was obvious that Allison thought that too.
"Thanks for coming over on such short notice." Allison said to Shaun
"'Aight." Shaun responded gruffly. And then let out a big beaming smile.
"Let me grab you that last beer before you go." Allison was trying hard to be hospitable to the very end.
As Allison turned to walk over to the kitchen, her arm trailed behind her, brushing past the front of Shaun's perfectly pressed slacks. And that's when Jim noticed it. It looked as if Allison had just brushed something very large hiding behind the pleats of Shaun's perfectly pressed pants -- something that shifted in place like a fire hose hanging off a hydrant.
"Oh my god!" thought Jim as he stared at Shaun's slacks. "This guy must have the largest penis that has ever existed!" Jim knew this wasn't exactly true because he once read about a man who took human growth hormone for medical reasons and it caused an abnormal sized penis to develop over the course of many years. But it was certainly the largest penis that had ever been dangling behind some guy's slacks in his own home.
And dangled it did. Jim watched nervously as the entire center of Shaun's pants seemed to grow and throb. He could see the outline of something very large and very thick start to shift from the center of Shaun's pants to halfway down his thigh. Jim suddenly realized that he was staring at Shaun's crotch with his eyes wide as saucers and mouth completely agape.
"What you lookin' at?" Shaun's question abruptly broke Jim's crotch-watching trance. "Allison! What yo man here lookin' at?" Shaun said as Allison stepped back into the room.
As fast as a bolt, Allison followed Jim's gaze to Shaun's crotch. She gave out an almost imperceptible squeal and smiled wryly.
"I think he was looking at your crotch." Allison said; with a half smile that spoke entirely of mischief.
By this time it was quite obvious that Shaun's monster cock had been awakened from its slumber. It sleepily pulsed to a steadily rhythm just behind Shaun's clean-pressed slacked. Unfortunately, Jim noticed too late that they both were staring at him. Well, not exactly directly at him. They were staring directly at his crotch. Jim's football-team emblazoned sweatpants suddenly seemed about two sized to small. And as he slowly followed their gaze to his crotch and realized that his lap was sitting under what appeared to be a small tent about six inches tall and supported by a firm pole. The knowledge that a Shaun's massive hunk of meat had been aroused to life had given Jim a very fast, very hard erection.
