The clock radio blared. "Geeze, 7 fucking am!" I really wished I didn't have to go to work. Suddenly, I (mostly) remembered the previous night. Fuck, I wouldn't
have
to go to work ever again! If it wasn't just a weird dream... I jumped out of bed, and searched through my pants pockets, until I found the Powerball ticket, then stood there staring at it for a few minutes.
It was real...
I went to the kitchenette and made coffee, then sat down at the table to wait for it to brew. If this worked the way it was supposed to, I really wouldn't need to go back to work. It was already Wednesday, the lottery draw was on Saturday: I could be rich on Monday. My rent was paid through the end of the month, and I had enough left from my piddly salary to last me at least a couple weeks. But if it didn't work... After having a cup of coffee, I decided the prudent thing to do was to call in sick for today. I toasted a bagel, and sat down to read the newspaper while I ate, but found that I couldn't concentrate on the paper at all. After I finished the bagel, I decided the first thing to do would be to check out my new equipment.
I looked for something to measure with. After some searching, I managed to find a ruler. I closed the bedroom door, and looked at myself naked in the full-length mirror on its back. Well, not too bad. I'm medium height, still in good shape from college days when I had time for tennis. Nondescript brown hair and brown eyes, in need of a shower at the moment. Summer tan long gone; I was Chicago winter-white at the moment. As soon as I collect, I think I'll move to San Diego, where it's warm all winter.
Then I concentrated on my dick. "Erect" I thought, and felt the blood rushing into it, watched in the mirror as it distended and hardened, expanding until the head was a smooth dark purple. It felt good just doing that much. And, it was already definitely larger than I'd had the night before. I put the ruler next to it, and found that it was exactly 8" long. Ok, let's see what 10" looks like. Now I felt just the disturbance in the air as my cock swelled and absorbed mass from the atmosphere. Yeah, OK, this looks nice and massive! Applying the ruler again, I read exactly ten inches.
Great, now 16 inches. Air rushed past. I stopped to open the window, just in case I needed a lot of air. Cold winter air swirled into the room, but my cock remained solid. The few snowflakes I saw land on my cock looked like they were absorbed directly into my skin, without a chance to melt. I returned to the mirror, and looked at my massive cock.
"I could fuck horses with this thing" I thought. Then I thought "I don't want to fuck any horses." Then I thought about trying to sleep with a girl with a cock like this, and decided it was a good thing I opted for size control, and that I could get it down to a "reasonable" size.
Just out of curiosity, I ran it out to 24", a full two feet. It was absolutely enormous. Stroking it with both hands, I walked into the shower. It felt too good to resist. I started the water, and stepped in when it was good and steaming. Grabbing the soap, I lathered up with both hands, and began to jack myself off with long, firm strokes. The head reached almost to my chin. I considered for a minute, then rinsed the soap off, and stuffed the head into my mouth. It was
mine
after all, nothing like sucking off someone else. I had to open my mouth as wide as I could to fit it in. It felt good - really good, but not as good as having a woman do it to me. I was stroking and sucking as hard as I could when it suddenly occurred to me that I made had a third wish, too. I wonder what would happen to me, giving myself a blow job? I was not interested in growing tits on my own chest, and jerked the head out of my mouth. Returning to the soap, I finished off, squirting high on the wall in long streams.
Satisfied for the moment, I finished showering, and noticed that my cock seemed to have gone flaccid automatically: I didn't have to concentrate on making it behave normally - this was good. It hung down just past my knees. I decided that (a) I wanted to try out wish number three, and (b) I
really
wanted to get sucked off: hanging around the bar last night had done nothing to abate my horniness.
I left it long, and went to get dressed. My underwear was a joke, and I finally settled on just long underwear under my jeans, with a shirt and sweater to wear under my coat. Prepared for the weather, I went out and made my way across town by public transportation. I particularly wanted to avoid the area near my job, as I had called in sick.
I spent the morning loitering around in stores, trying to think of a good way to pick up a salesgirl, assuming I found a cute one. Unfortunately, at this time of day, they were all older, some much older, than I prefer. Eventually, it occurred to me that maybe I should look at clothes that fit my "new and improved" anatomy better.
Shopping for clothes does not come naturally to me. My first impulse was to head for one of the expensive stores and shop like a millionaire, but I reconsidered: I didn't want to raise suspicions by spending tons before I even won. I didn't have the money yet, after all. In the end, I wandered into Dale's, a mid-level department store, and bought myself some baggy pants. The sales people were all 50-ish matronly types who did nothing for me.
Around noon I wandered into a bar to grab a bite to eat and try my luck. I sat at the bar eating a polish sausage on a bun, with a pint of beer, and was trying to survey the bar for prospects inconspicuously, when I heard this voice in my ear.
"Honey, who are you trying to fool with that?" The voice was gravelly, seductive and patronizing, all at the same time. I turned around on my stool to find a 40-ish woman, shoulder-length dark blond hair, blue eyes, business skirt and blouse, nice jewelry, eyebrows raised. Older, but still hot enough for me.
"Huh?" I said eloquently, around a mouthful of sausage.
She indicated my lap with her eyes and a disdainful nod of her head. I glanced down to see that my unbelievably huge softy was plainly visible through my jeans, making an obvious bulge along the length of my thigh.
"It's real," I said nonchalantly, mouth still full of sausage.
"Honey, nobody is that big" she scoffed. "How old are you?"
"Twenty-eight."
"Then you're old enough to know that nobody is going to fall for that."
"Hey, I'm just eating lunch here. Besides, what makes you think it's impossible?"
"OK," she leaned forward, "how long is it hard?"
"24 inches."
"Right. Impossible."
"Hey, I can prove it if you want."
"Yeah, how? Are you going to show me some doctored dick pic you made on your phone?"
