I don't know how long I can keep control of myself, but I am determined to make a record of the horrible events that I set into motion. I never meant for anything bad to happen. I just wanted to get laid and things got weird from there. My name is Rick Wesley and I was 22, a little pudgy, and 'sweet'. Most girls loved me... like a brother. There was a girl named Mia that I had a couple of classes with and she was cute, but seemed shy about guys. We got along really well, but things stalled at first base. She wasn't sure what she wanted, she didn't want to hurt me, she wanted to be fair to me, and on and on and on.
After a couple of months, I was really frustrated in more ways than one. I got a little buzzed and got a couple crazy ideas in my head. One was that if I were bigger, like porn star bigger, she'd figure out exactly what she wanted. The other was that I could solve all my problems on the internet. So, I searched and drank and searched and drank. Suddenly, I got a pop up ad that promised to do everything I wanted with no drugs and at no cost as a test subject. I had to look. The site was very clear and simple. Bigger penis, longer lasting erections, and virtual irresistibility for free, simply register and download the secrets to having all the sex you want. If I hadn't been drunk, maybe I'd have thought about it and realized how silly it all sounded, but I clicked it and filled out the form. I didn't read all that fine print stuff. Who ever really reads all that legal crap anyway? The download completed in seconds and a text file was all there was. If I'd paid money, I'd have felt ripped off. I hit print. One page spit out with a line in the middle with the words 'SIGN HERE' underneath. Even after the booze, I knew I'd been had and started to rip the sheet that mocked me when the words 'IF YOU WANT TO FUCK MIA' appeared.
I stared in total disbelief. I must have been dreaming or hallucinating, but the words were still there. Then, I heard moaning from my computer speakers and looked back to the monitor. There was me giving it to Mia like there was no tomorrow as if it were a spycam video. I signed. The paper flashed into ash as soon as the pen left the page and the room grew dark. That's the last thing I remembered. Next afternoon, I woke up on the floor and I would have thought the whole thing was some crazy nightmare except for the bulge in my boxers. This wasn't morning wood either. My size had doubled, maybe even more. It couldn't be true? My computer had crashed for some reason and I lost everything from the night before. My first thought was to call Mia, but what if this was my imagination or something? What if it were some kind of trick? Hell, what if it didn't actually work?
It was nearly 7:00 when I got cleaned up and figured out a plan. I'd go to a bar and just try to pick up a girl. Never worked before, but if this really was what I signed up for, I should have a shot at it now. There was a nice place just off campus that catered to the non-rowdy student crowd and to locals, so I went there. Picking up some drunk sorority girl wasn't really going to prove anything much anyway. I dressed nice and headed to Turner's Grille. It was not very busy for a Saturday night, but there were certainly quite a few ladies. I decided to scope things out and not end up messing up someone's date. I had a strange sound in my head when I looked at certain women that seemed to be warning me to move on and then, I saw her at the far end of the bar. All alone and the sounds in my head went quiet, so I watched her.
She was older, maybe 40, definitely a professional, nice boobs, a little chunky from the waist down, but she'd easily make a MILF hunter's list. She was not happy and I knew it from her actions on my own, but I seemed to know it in my head, too. She was vulnerable, angry at a man. Her husband? No, her ex-husband. Bits of information started popping in my head which seemed perfectly natural to me like I'd suddenly become Sherlock Holmes. A workaholic. Councillor/therapist at college. Works in the Women's Dean's office. Not much time for sex when she was married. Husband cheated. Her fault, sort of. Got postcard from his honeymoon with his 23 year old bride today. Hates men (and 23 year old girls) right now and wants to be left alone, but comes to a bar because she hates to drink alone.
I sat down with one seat between us as she finished another drink. "Need another?"
"Not from you." she icily replied without looking.
I continued, ignoring her tone, "You are much too pretty to be here alone, did some jerk stand you up?"
Almost angry, she replied, "Go away."
"You are unhappy, aren't you? My name's Rick."
"Rick rhymes with Dick.", she sneered.
I cut her off with as much wounded puppy as I could put in my voice, "Whoa, pretty lady, I'm not a bad guy. You just looked like you could use some company."
For the first time, she actually looked at me instead of the glass. "You're a little young to hit on me, aren't you?"
"Who said I'm hitting on you? You just looked really lonely. Besides, you're way outta my league."
"Not to mention I'm old enough to be your..."
I interrupted her, "My big sister?"
She laughed, a little bitter, but a little funny, too. "Cute. You're 22, 23 aren't you?"
"You're good. 22."
"What would a 22 year old want with someone nearly twice their age?"
I started to answer, but she cut me off.
"That was rhetorical, you know what that means, right?"
"Sounds like it means you've got a mad on for 22 year olds."
"Not all."
With a loud sigh, I replied "I hope not!"
With her own sigh of frustration, she said, "Listen, you seem nice enough, but I am not here to talk."