"Are you sure that going out now is a good idea? I'm…I'm still not sure that I'm ready."
"We're telling you, Rodie – Now's the perfect time. The event is already set up, and we've got focus testers scheduled to visit all throughout the afternoon."
"Didn't you guys tell me to stay out of public spaces when I started growing?!"
A confused lad fought on the phone next to the front door of his family's house. He'd gotten himself dressed in whatever clothes still fit him, but his wardrobe offered fewer and fewer suitable pickings every day. His favorite shirts and jackets still fit perfectly, as did his shoes. It was the garments in-between that he was having trouble with.
Rodie had always had trouble fitting himself into his pants. He hadn't felt denim on his thighs since far back into his childhood. Jeans were much too tight. The older he grew and the more developed his body became, the more accommodating the lap of his legwear needed to be. Most of the bottoms in his closet were things like sweatpants, compression shorts, and women's leggings: stretchy things that would fit snugly around his massive, throbbing package. Rodie's endowment was always growing. Whether by centimeters or inches, every year brought greater length and girth to his sizable shaft. His balls grew just as much as his dick, reaching new levels of volume and virility with what seemed like every time me masturbated.
Despite the unusual largeness his kit had always had, Rodie grew up into a relatively well-adjusted young adult. By the time he started taking an interest in others, Rodie's cock measured over three feet in length. Too big to wrap up in his underwear, he learned to shove his shaft into the leg of his pants each time he slipped into his clothes in the morning. To any other teenage boy, a cock that large might get to their head. Even though Rodie could suck off his own flaccid dick without so much as bowing down, he had no shortage of other things keeping him occupied and away from slipping into sex-addicted reclusiveness. He worked as an actor, and he took great pride in the work that he did.
Work was actually the reason he was on the phone, and part of the reason he'd been holed up in his house for the past few weeks. Recently, Rodie's hyper-sized sex had started to grow. It sounded ludicrous to make a big deal out of something like that – growth was, after all, an ever-present fact of Rodie's life. His kit has been growing for as long as he could remember. The growth he was experiencing now, however, was different.
Just a few weekends ago, he noticed that his burgeoning, cum-filled testes felt heavier than he was used to. Their weight naturally increased as they got fuller and bigger, but those changes happened over such long stretches of time that the muscles in his legs and back could normally strengthen and adjust to carrying his gradually embiggening loads. One not-too-distant morning, Rodie caught his legs trembling with soreness. He fought to keep his balance under control. He fell to the floor before he could make it to his morning shower. It was then, brought to the ground by the immense mass of his back-breaking sack, that he realized his balls had swelled up to the circumference of bike tires.
Every week, his mammoth-sized meat bulged further out from the jiggling restraints of his tightly fitted bicycle shorts. He'd accidentally bump into something new at least twice a week. Whenever Rodie shoved the house's furniture apart so that he could still squeeze his round, bouncing ass and obscenely girthy package through the gaps, it would only be a matter of time before he'd need to rearrange things again. Shoving furniture around his house, creating paths with enough clearance to fit a golf cart just to walk his massive package through, took up more and more of his time in the last several days. Soon, he'd have to start getting furniture taken out of his house entirely. There just wasn't enough space to distance them all and still fit between. Rodie feared that, if things kept growing at this rate, he might even need to have the stairways and hallways widened.
The growth that Rodie had experienced a week ago was clearly different than the kind he'd lived with his whole life. It was notably different. That's what had Rodie so concerned in the first place. Two mornings ago he woke up with his thighs pinned to his mattress in nearly twice the amount of ball-flesh than he'd gone to sleep with. His shaft was hard and swollen – throbbing and aching with greater intensity than ever before. The ceiling of his bedroom dripped onto his rapidly soaking sheets, smeared with the precum that leaked out as he dreamed of things he was too pure-hearted to mention. Rodie could only begin to guess why, but on that morning the quirk of his genes that blessed him with his ever-growing meatpole seemed to have been sent into overdrive.
It might have been puberty, or some sort of second puberty. Rodie wasn't sure, since despite being in his late-teens he never recalled ever experiencing the textbook signs of puberty. Then again, it wouldn't have been surprising to him if he just skipped right over a "normal" puberty without even noticing it; his body was unusual enough. Whatever the cause, the consequence was clear…Massive and pulsating. All of Rodie's downstairs growth-spurts had become growthier and spurtier. He had to call in sick at school, his talent agency told him to stay inside so as not to attract the attention of paparazzi, and a fleet of plumbers drove through his neighborhood's street day-in and day-out to fix the sticky, drain-clogging mess that his ejaculations created. Stuck at home for quite some time, Rodie had become very well acquainted with the leveled-up needs of his newly super-gigantic sex. None of his prior experience handling a floor-dragging, room-flooding member had prepared him for the roof-busting tower that he was so suddenly thrust into having.
"Look Rodie," his agent continued over the phone, fighting to get a word in between the boy's anxious questions and rumbling cum-tanks, "fans are already lined up out the door to shake your hand and we're still 30 minutes out from the start of the event. You disappeared for a whole week; public interest in where you've been and what you've been up to is at an all-time high. We can barely keep the press out of our offices! You've gotta get out there today."
Nothing that Rodie could have said would dissuade his agent. They were entirely persistent about Rodie getting out there for a meet-and-greet. Rodie was more confused than anything else. The message he was getting from his agent now was counter to the "stay-at-home" order they'd been insistently pushing previously. If his mind were clearer, Rodie would have been happy to finally leave his house. He was simply disoriented. Staying at home and masturbating until he fell asleep, losing track of the passage of time, and deliriously huffing the fumes of his own sex had put him deep into that state. The more his agent insisted, the more suggestible Rodie started to feel to the idea of heading outside. Eventually, he agreed to hold the fan meet-up.
"Good," Rodie's handler sighed into the phone. Now that they boy had finally acquiesced, they could get him ready for the event. "Clean yourself up and get there in two hours. Expect a big crowd."
———x———
Chapter Text
Despite his best efforts to drain his sack before heading out, Rodie ended up leaving his home feeling almost as backed-up as when he got off the phone. He jerked off in the shower, clogging up the drain for what felt like the hundredth time before finally washing his hair and scrubbing off that morning's sticky cum-residue from his back, chest and legs. The bathroom was an absolute mess by the time he stepped out, but that was just a fact of life now. He'd clean things up when he returned, or at the very least call someone in to clean up for him. Hanging around the smell of his own cum for too long really made him lightheaded. There were quite a few times over the last few days where Rodie lost control, falling to the intoxicating influence of his compoundingly pungent cum and finding himself simply unable to keep from stroking his cock.
The moment he'd slipped on his last clean pair of bicycle shorts, shin-high boots and midriff-exposing, tight-fitted white tank top, he hurried out the door. He tried to fill his mind with the most neutral, least erotic thoughts he could muster, rehearsing the canned greetings he used every time he readied up for this sort of event. The more occupied he kept himself, the better he figured his odds of being able to keep it cool. While there was a part of Rodie that grew louder and louder over these past few days, urging him to let his sexual desires run wild, the Rodie at the surface wanted his needy flesh to stay on its best behavior.
He was able to keep his desire under control for the whole drive over. One of his assistants, sent from the talent agency to shuttle him to and from the venue for that day's work, helped him out of the spacious, luxury van that had been brought out for him. Rodie was just barely able to squeeze himself in through the double-doors out of the trunk, but squeezing himself out was another story. Just as he'd experienced at home, even going a half-hour without draining his snake of its pipe-plugging cream caused it to swell with worrying quickness. Although he was able to shove the rumbling softness of his gurgling balls through the van's tight doorframe, it wasn't without significant effort on his and the assistant's parts. Rodie's assistant grabbed his hand, impatiently trying to tug the plush expanse of the lad's outrageously grown sack through the van's rear exit. The meat of Rodie's overflowing cum-tanks spilled over all four edges of the doorframe, like the springy edges of a mini-marshmallow emerging through a drinking straw.
Doing all that he could to help get his body out of the car before he became trapped in there forever, Rodie scooted as far forward on his butt as friction could allow. He strained the muscles in his pelvic floor to compress his uncooperative sex by even just a few millimeters, flexing his balls and making the head of his chubby cock shake. Despite his best efforts to keep the ride clean, all of the pressure and jostling that both he and the doorframe did to his sex made Rodie leak. Precum worked up from his agitated balls, smoothly coming out in globs like honey dripping steadily from an upturned and death-gripped bottle. It passed through the elastic mesh of his pants, dripping to the floor and accumulating in a pile. His cock's oozing snot was so thick that it piled up in a cone, only flowing outward when the mass collapsed under the gravity of all the super-gunk piling up at the tip. His assistant's shoes filled up with it as Rodie's fluids washed over the entire parking space.
Finally, all of that pulling, flexing and leaking paid off. Rodie could feel his scrotum start to slip free and his body fall forward out into the empty, private lot by one of the mall's employee-only entrances. His own feet touched down in the sticky puddle of his dick's dribblings, wetting the bottoms of his boots. Rodie breathed a sigh of relief, glad that he just managed to make it out. He laid hands on the rumbling, growing flesh of his cock to stave off an erection. His shaft was still soft enough for his fingers to squeeze into, but he could feel his heartbeat growing more intense as it throbbed through all two yards of his leg-buckling half-chub. All of the stimulus that his flaccid cock endured had started to stiffen it up, though his assistant hadn't been able to tell. They had actually assumed Rodie was sporting a massive, full-force hard-on for the entire drive. If they had seen him now, any of Rodie's old co-stars might have thought he was ragingly erect – somehow worked up to an even greater degree than they'd ever known possible for the young talent. That newly-hired chauffeur of his had no way of knowing just how much Rodie's situation had progressed in those few isolated weeks. Even after leaking out enough to strand their van in a swampy pool of precum, Rodie felt just about ready to burst.
Scraping some of Rodie's hyperviscous pre off of their pant leg like half-dried glue off of a work bench, his chauffeur ushered him into one of the employee hallways through the mall. The side-entrance's double doors were, fortunately for Rodie, much more accommodating. By design, they were build wide enough to transport freight through. It was only a happy coincidence for Rodie that his hyper-sized boy-bulge was still smaller than the rear end of a semitruck, though considering just how much he'd developed in the last few days the idea was brought to the front of his mind that that might not be the case for much longer. Nearly equal parts afraid, curious and aroused by that idea, Rodie shoved that confusing thought back into his subconscious to wrestle with later and stepped into the high-ceilinged, concrete-walled walkway ahead while holding onto his knee-knocking scrotum with both arms.
The walkway was completely devoid of furnishings, save for a single soda machine and a couple of emptied pallets. The deep, enormous hallway was the perfect soundstage to host the orchestral gurglings of Rodie's sperm-stuffed balls. His gallon-sized swimmer tanks sounded even larger and more powerful when their rumblings reverberated off of the smooth, grey walls. Someone around the corner might mistakenly think that a dragon had clawed its way out of a fantasy novel and in through the mall's staff-only passages. Bouncing off the walls in every direction, Rodie's ears caught his testes' hungry vibrations throughout the entirety of his long, long walk to the stage of his meet-and-greet. His sex's need rang in his head louder than it had been able to at home, testing the strength of his resolve to be on his "best behavior" and pushing him with steady pressure over the edge of restraint.
Rodie's slowly engorging fuck-sausage twitched cutely on the expanse of his overfull sack. The veiny, fabric-stretching girth of his pole bounced further forward and higher toward his navel with every twitch, using the softness of his loins like a trampoline. He had to stagger to a halt, curling up slightly to get the bounding energy of his kit under control. While he stopped, he panted heavily. Breathing in, just as his meditation coach taught him, Rodie attempted to settle himself. As he felt the jiggling waves from his throbbing low-hangers dissipate through his torso and settle from floor-shaking to table-thumping intensity, he closed his eyes and clenched his pelvic floor.
Much to his relief, Rodie could feel the once-gaped passageway of his wildly leaking, broken-faucet fuck pole tighten back down to the width of a drinking straw. He felt the elastic band around his waist start to loosen back up, retreating from its tight, digging grip around his pelvis and loosening the squeeze on his pubic mound. The dim rim around his vision retreated slightly, returning a degree of clarity to his dream-like perception of the world. Rodie felt a wave of relief wash over himself, as he knew he had just narrowly avoided a messy disaster. For the last couple of minutes, Rodie had been running entirely on auto-pilot. He was ushered into a door, so he walked through it. He did so thoughtlessly, and without any regard for how close he felt he was working towards an autonomous orgasm. If the cacophonous sound of his gurgling, primed plums hadn't been shaking loudly through his head, he might have passed out and drowned in his own seed.
His chauffeur stood in silence, more than a little worried as they stared down at a boy curled up into a ball and hugging his own enormous, throbbing bundle of meat. Rodie waved them off, signaling that he was feeling alright. For Rodie, that was only a half-truth. He did feel better than he did just moments before, but he was far from feeling "alright."
"I'm…I'm fine. Lets g-get to the stage…"
Rodie was able to make it through the employee walkway without further incident, leaning part of his weight on his assistant for the last hundred feet. The next set of double doors lead out into a boxed-off area with walls of fabric that hung down from some few-yard-tall pieces of scaffolding. It looked as though a few privacy curtains were drawn up around the back-side of the temporary stage. Rodie could tell that he was clearly inside of the mall proper now – it was certainly loud enough, and the walls and floor were nice, clean, and shining brightly from regular mopping and polishing. A large crowd of human voices talked over the volume of Rodie's burbling orbs, disguising his arrival somewhat. If the mall-goer's chatter hadn't been as loud, the swarm of fans on the other end of that privacy curtain could have certainly been tipped off to Rodie's arrival by the booming waves of sound that pulsed off his throbbing fleshbags.
"Hey, hey," Rodie could hear one particularly loud voice behind the curtains say, "It's, like, almost time for him to show up, right?"
Another woman, one who was stood very close to the first, responded even louder and with double the excitement in her voice.
"Yeah! I'm sooooooooooo excited! This is gonna be my first time meeting him!"
Those two's conversation sent a chain reaction of reciprocated anticipation out into the crowd. While Rodie made his way closer to the curtains right behind his booth, coming closer and closer to revealing himself, he listened in on the comments that all of his waiting fans continued to make.
"I hear his dick is even bigger in person…"
"Why do you think he's been silent for so long?"
"Maybe he's found a girlfriend?"
"No, no! He can't! I love him!"
"I want his babies so badly…"
"I don't think the world is ready for his babies…"
Rodie tried to wait for a natural break in the crowd conversation before revealing himself. He stood just off-stage, futilely hoping for his sex-obsessed idolizers to stop talking about his meat. The beloved star's lust was still boiling away just underneath the surface of his ballooning balls. His sex organs seemed a hair away from springing fully to life, and the adult-oriented topics that the crowd roared about weren't helping him keep his cool. Quite the opposite: all the talk about his package only strengthened its growing control over his body. Rodie could feel himself nearly slipping back into unconsciousness as the pulsations below his belt grew stronger and the burning heat of his meat intensified past anything he'd ever experienced. The air-conditioned breeze of the mall was completely ineffective for Rodie, as his testes' sweltering, radiant heat rose up into his face and made him sweat through his tank-top.
"Finally…" A familiar voice whispered behind him. "Can't you hear just how restless the crowd is out there, Rodie?"
It was his head agent, standing only inches away and looking about a foot over Rodie's shoulder.
"Good lord," they marveled. "Have you gotten even bigger since we brought you to that doctor? Whatever – it's fine. We planned for this anyway. Can you just step out onto that stage now and shake some goddamn hands?"
Before he could look back and deliver his agent some second, third, or even fourth-thoughts, Rodie felt their hands press into his shoulders and push him forward. He stumbled a bit as he tried to keep from falling over: a task that was made even more difficult by his ridiculously forward-oriented center of gravity.
"Omigosh, it's Rodieeeeeeeeeeeee!" The shrill scream of an excited fangirl pierced the crowd's chatter. Now that he was out in the open, there was no more stalling.
His group of supporters, overwhelmingly but not entirely women, cheered for the sudden and much-anticipated arrival of their idol. Their cheers rang in Rodie's ears as he fought desperately to keep control. The table from which he'd be shaking hands and signing autographs was only a few steps away from where he'd stumbled; he just needed to lift his legs a couple times to get into his seat. From there, he could breathe deeply and focus on hands, posters and autograph books. He raised one hand to wave shyly as he made micromovements toward the chair behind his table, careful not to agitate his balls any more than they already had been.
"He's sooooooo big!" a thirsty, thick-bodied MILF shouted out shamelessly.
"What happened to him?" another admirer loudly wondered.
"Why hasn't it happened sooner?!" one of his college-aged fans begged to know.
The voice of his agent came though the P.A. system above, quieting the "Kyaa!"s and "I love you!"s flying toward Rodie.
"The meet-and-greet has officially begun – please form an orderly line at the stairs of the stage and await your turn. Autographs will be available until 6:30."
Rodie looked up at one of the mall's giant clocks that hanged from the ceiling ahead. He could feel his stomach sink as he took in the time. It was only three, and he was just arriving at his seat. It was already a tight fit, too. Even though the stage prep crew had hollowed out a deep cavity in the modifiable stage so that he could snugly fit his expanded package underneath his folding autograph table, Rodie could already tell that they'd underestimated his size. At this stage, whatever mysterious power had caused him to grow was far outpacing the projections of his support team. Rodie couldn't feel his oven-sized sperm-factories hitting the walls of their square little holding cell yet, but as he stared out into the crowd and drank in the low-cut shirts and bouncing breasts of his hundreds-large audience his confidence in himself dropped like a rock off of a cliff. Those closest to the stage could hear the air-vibrating shock of Rodie's pulse as it boomed out across the overfull sack. Even though it had only been visible to the crowd for a minute at most as Rodie waddled to the table, his crotch's presence couldn't be concealed by a few wood planks and a flimsy little tablecloth. The women in front of him could feel it, and they felt it more strongly the closer they drew.
Before he knew it, the fans started coming up to his table. Rodie entered his meet-and-greet trance, or as close to it as he could approach while suppressing the urges of his barely-restrained erection. He directed the fractured shards of his attention towards just one person at a time, deliberately blinding himself to everyone in the mall except the one fan that came up to talk to him in that present moment. Although he tried to focus entirely on their faces, their outstretched hands, and whatever miscellaneous merchandise they brought to have signed, very few of his admirers made that an easy task.
Some of them were nice and courteous, maybe a bit too shy to say what they really had on their mind. Rodie couldn't even count how many of those types of fans he'd met in his life, but the ones of that type all seemed especially meek that day. The blushing faces of many a budding, bright-eyed girl shuffled in front of him, squeaking out mumbled phrases like "I-it's n-nuh…nice to see you" and "I'm you're biggest diiiii – I, uhm…I, mean, uh…fan…" They were cute, and it helped Rodie slightly to know that there were some people around him just as flustered as he was. The discomfort he shared with them helped still his heart slightly, but he'd be lying to himself if he claimed the cute ways they struggled to avoid staring through the table to where they knew his hippo-sized bulge rumbled didn't stir up fantasies of railing the breath out of them and making them faint as they stretched around his manhood.
Other fans, especially the older and more sexually experienced among them, made audacious, hardly-covert advances that were clearly intended to tease him. Rodie even saw mothers follow up after their whimpering daughters had just shirked off the state, strutting up to greet him while winking at their flustered progeny as if to say "watch and learn, sweetheart." The most daring of these daring MILFs leaned in deep to receive their handshake. That gave Rodie a full, close-up view into their pillowy cleavage. They'd grip Rodie's hand and gently yank it between their breasts so that he could feel their soft warmth up to his wrist. Rodie bit his lip, straining to keep the storm between his open-spread legs from blowing up the stage from the inside. The scent that wafted up from his genital hot-box billowed up through the noses of the fans who came in the closest, filling their lungs with Rodie's intoxicating musk and imprinting onto them.
One jean-clad goddess of fertility – pants fitted nearly as tightly on her as Rodie's were on him – couldn't help but clutch her thighs as she inhaled in her first taste of Rodie's musk. Rodie couldn't stop his eyes from wandering to the soaking crotch of her pants as she dripped her lovely nectar onto the stage. She started sweating too, pulling her extremely low, black v-neck tee down even further to let all of the glistening sweat beads pooling in her ample chest evaporate. Whatever power Rodie's worship-worthy package had been imbued with, it took control over the woman's better judgement. Letting go of all the inhibitions and restraint she'd normally have in a public setting, she brought her lips up to Rodie's twitching ear to whisper something shameless to him.
"Take a break in two minutes," she spoke softly and confidently. "Meet me in the women's restroom, behind the game store."
She was only the thirtieth fan that had come up to Rodie that day, but the first to make such an explicit pass at him. She'd practically made him wear her outrageously sized tits as goggles, too. If he were in a clearer state of mind, he would have been shocked that neither his agent nor his bodyguards did anything to discourage that extreme degree of intimate closeness. His cock throbbed, balls practically growling at the thought of emptying out into her no-doubt accommodating pussy. Even though it was concealed to everyone but Rodie and the MILF looking down over his shoulder, the entire crowd could hear the fat, broad face of his glans smack wetly against the ends of the hollowed-out stage.
Rodie couldn't stop his megaton cock from throbbing to life, bouncing up and down with every packet of blood that his fast-beating heart sent into the thirsty tissues of his shaft. He dropped the pen that he was clutching on the table, letting it roll off onto the floor. Rodie had to bring both of his hands down to apply pressure to his pubic mound, pushing his welling flesh down as much as he could in what felt like a futile attempt to keep it from bursting up above the stage and sending the autograph table into orbit.
"I'll be waiting," his audacious admirer whispered.
Before parting, she left him with a wet, loving kiss on the cheek. The softness of her pink-painted lips almost made his concerns melt away. The soothing shock of the woman's kiss only lasted for a second though, quickly dissolving and sending his body back to the boiling fever and hot sweat that he developed trying to suppress his trembling mega-meat. Rodie couldn't help but ruminate on what it would feel like to have those same wonderfully soft lips pressing and wrapping around a different part of his body. He stared at the sway of the provocatively tight-dressed older lady's hips. Her ass bounced as she hopped off the steps leading down from the stage. Looking back at Rodie, she was able to catch him staring lustfully and absent-mindedly at her backside. Before walking off in the direction of their promised meeting spot, she blew him another kiss, this time letting her sopping-wet tongue hang from her pursed lips.
The needy young star's heart thumped again, along with his swelling erection. It made the cloth around his table bulge and the stage creak. Rodie knew he couldn't take much more of this, especially not if another wild fan like that came up to him. In a quiet panic, Rodie waved over his nearest event attendant. Before letting the next eager Rodie-lover up to the table, the attendant dashed across the stage so that Rodie could speak to them quietly.
"I…" Rodie stammered, still fighting to keep himself from popping a premature load, "I need to take a l-little break…"
Rodie's attendant gave a knowing nod and walked back to their post. Too far away for Rodie to hear, the suit-clad hire from his talent agency spoke into a walkie-talkie. Soon thereafter, his head agent's voice came up on the P.A. system again:
"We're sorry everyone," they said in an enviably calm and collected tone of voice, "We have to take a quick break from the signing event. We'll resume shortly. In the meantime, please retain your spots in line."
The crowd sang out in audible disappointment. The furthest ahead in line laid their faces in their palms or pointed in exasperated disbelief that they would have to wait even longer for their chance next to meet Rodie, especially considering just how soon ago the whole event had started. Nevertheless, there wasn't much any of them could do but wait politely but impatiently. None of them dared act out, lest they miss their golden opportunity to touch the hand of the biggest teen heartthrob of the last decade…maybe even ever, depending on who was being asked (or what criteria was being judged).
The crowd's vocalizations only grew more intense and impatient when Rodie lifted himself up from his chair. His gigaton man-meat had done a lot of maturing down in the stuffy cave below the stage – even more than Rodie himself expected to see. He had to scoot his chair back much, much further than was necessary when he sat down. The nearly nine-foot pillow-pole that he buried only around half an hour ago had grown again to record size. It gorged itself on Rodie's overflowing vital energy while it was packed out of sight, reemerging to bless the world with its enormous, turgid presence. The girth of Rodie's shaft alone was too big to fit back into the van he'd ridden to the mall in, and his full-to-bursting balls had further inflated to keep in even proportion and ludicrous size. From the root underneath his bellybutton to the microns-thin miracle-fabric that stretched taught over his head-swallowing glans, Rodie's cock was nearly fifteen feet in length. If he had the leg strength to hoist it up toward the clouds, he'd be able to burst through the roof of a single-story house.
Rodie tried to pay as little mind to his insanely gigantic erection as possible. He hoped that the less attention he paid it the less it'd continue to grow. Drawing the hungry eyes of every living soul in the mall, Rodie jiggled off to the bathroom. The staffers at the event formed a wall around the lascivious crowd so that he could make it to his destination unmolested. As he bounded to the toilets as quickly as his dragging package and weak knees could carry him, Rodie continued to clench the muscles in his pelvic floor, hoping against hope that he could make it inside before he blew all over the mall. He was forming a trail of precum as wide as a bicycle lane as he rushed around the corner and behind the game store. His ground-shaking cock was leaking out orbs fat enough to wrap his arms around.
Finally, Rodie came upon the last corner before the bathroom. He had no idea how he was going to get inside, but he hardly had the mental capacity to care anymore. If all he could do was stick his fat crown up against the door and fill the room like a shot glass, that would have to be what he'd do.
"Rodie?" A soothing, familiar voice cut through the static of Rodie's overstimulated mind. "Is that you, Rodie?"
Standing next to him, occupying the only sliver of space in the restroom hallway that wasn't filled with monster-sized star cock, was Rodie's crush.
"W-Wendy?" he replied, struggling to discern if his friend's appearance was some sort of sex-crazed mirage or reality. He could see her concern for him in her kind, brown eyes.
"Rodie, are you okay? Is this why you haven't been to classes in the last two weeks?"
Something about Wendy's company seemed to help put Rodie at ease. She stared at his face, eager to hear what had happened while her friend had been away and lighten the emotional load that she figured he'd been carrying in his seclusion. She hadn't heard anything about what was happening to Rodie since he suddenly stopped coming to school – no one had, since Rodie and his talent agency thought it best at that time not to tell anyone. The genuine care and concern that Rodie could feel from Wendy, the girl who he'd always wanted to be more than friends with, temporarily quieted the deafening thoughts of reaching orgasm that filled his mindscape.
She continued, so worried for her friend that she had neglected to give him time to answer her last couple questions:
"I saved all of the homework that you missed. C-can I do anything to help you right now?"
Rodie would have loved to have Wendy's help, especially with the way she was dressed today. She was showing so much soft, supple looking skin. Her supremely short shorts and dark, frilly tube-top left little to his imagination. For as short as she was, Wendy was a big girl in all the ways that Rodie loved to see. Their heights weren't all too dissimilar from each other, but Rodie was almost a whole head's length taller. What Wendy lacked in verticality though she made up for doubly and triply in horizontality. Her hips were wide enough to make the arms on a chair break off like twigs – that was, if she could wrestle her ass into a chair that tight-fitting in the first place. She was the perfect image of a round-assed Latina, dressed up in a lightly goth aesthetic that made her light and luscious skin stand out like reflective panels around the near-black violets of her outfit and deep-blue hue of her punkish hair.
Her tits spilled out from both the top and the bottom of her semi-transparent top. Rodie relished the chance to see way more of Wendy's shapely, melon-sized tits than he normally did at school. Something about her leather, knee high boots and even higher socks was awakening an appreciation inside of Rodie that he didn't even know he had. There were still plenty of pounds of bare upper-thigh for him to run his eyes over: thighs that his subconscious wanted to have riding his shaft like a bull.
Wendy could tell that her classmate was staring at her. Without knowing it, Rodie had allowed himself to drink in her curvaceous body for an exceptionally long pause in the "conversation" between them. The hallway would have been silent, if it hadn't been for the oppressive, base-like kick of Rodie's pulsating meat rod. Wendy started to blush, thinking about the way that Rodie stared at her.
"Uhmmmm…" she hummed, "do you need help with this?"
With all the caution she'd use to approach a wild and unfamiliar animal, Wendy brought her hand close to Rodie's throbbing shaft. As soon as Rodie noticed her approaching digits, his manhood spoke for him. A mighty, giant-sized twitch ripped out from root to tip, making his tank-filling trunk jump up to the hallway's ceiling and back down to the ground with a weighty thud. It was a resounding and obvious "YES!" Rodie nodded as well. His cutely shy head-bobs contrasted cutely against the localized quake that his powerful rod had just sent shaking through the earth.
Wendy grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the door of the men's restroom.
"Come on, lets try and get you in here."
Rodie couldn't believe just how lucky he was to be led into a place like that by his crush. The woman in the other restroom would probably hear them too, but he didn't care. Rodie didn't even care to imagine that lonely MILF jilling off to the sounds of him and another girl – Wendy took the starring role Rodie's every fantasy at that point.
"Ugh…You're way too big to fit through the door." Wendy grunted, futilely pushing her friend's vein-choked log into the doorframe. "How did you even leave your house, Rodie?"
The sinking of her fingers into his cockflesh was a sensation that tickled every pleasure center within Rodie. While fighting back his mounting climax, he attempted to explain his situation.
"I don't know…I just khee – uhnf! – keep growing."
"Shit," Wendy cursed under her breath as she realized just how pointless of a struggle attempting to push Rodie's overgrown cheek-spreader into the single-wide door was. "Hang on, Rodie. Maybe this will help. I just bought it today on my way to your meet and g-…"
"Hhh-uh?" Rodie grunted.
"I…I mean…" Wendy stammered, absolutely petrified that she'd just let her plans for the day slip.
Even having cut her own sentence short, Rodie understood the rest of what Wendy was trying to say. Wendy's tender heart started beating faster, and Rodie could feel its gentle thumps through the trembling hands that his friend still had laid on his aching meat. Their pulses struck against each other's.
Wendy continued to speak, softly and shyly as she constructed a justification. She was still building up the courage to communicate how she felt about him.
"You were gone for a really long time, and I was really worried. I was really happy to hear that you were going to be out in public today, b…but a little jealous that the rest of your fans knew before I did. I wanted to make sure that you were still okay, and to talk with you again, since it's been so long. I, uhm…Also…"
Rodie could feel Wendy's hand squeezing into a bundle of sausage-thick veins on the surface of his erection. She swallowed nervously, then let out a deep breath. The courage she needed felt like it had finally built up enough, and now she was ready.
"I really like you, and wanted to ask if you'd go out with me."
Rodie felt a gentle warmth emanate out from his chest. It was a different kind of warmth than the kind that his hyper-sized, painful erection radiated into his body. A delayed sense of happiness and gratitude shortly followed. Truthfully, he was ecstatic to be on the receiving end of this confession. He'd always shared those same feelings for Wendy, but had worried that she'd reject him. Rodie responded with a clarity of mind that he hadn't felt since leaving home that day:
"Of course! I really like you too!" He shouted.
Both of their faces were bright red, and the lull in their conversation restored the prominent thumping of Rodie's neglected, ready-to-blow whale-cock.
Wordlessly, Wendy reached back into her bag to rummage around for the thing she had been talking about before their shared declarations. What she pulled out was a plastic container of hand lotion with a cute, gold-trimmed label and a sticker that read "75% OFF!"
"If you want me to be your girlfriend, then I should help you with your…needs. Right?" She gestured with a nod to Rodie's immense growth. "Maybe I can help you slide inside the bathroom with this?"
"Y-yes!" Nothing could have sounded sweeter to Rodie in that moment. He reached out with one hand to hold hers: the same one that she was using to grip the bottle of lotion. "Please, Wendy…"
Taking even greater initiative than before, she reciprocated his desire to hold hands with an innocent peck on the cheek. A joy-filled, girlish smile spread across her face.
"Okay…If that'll help."
Without any further buildup or interruptions, Wendy set to work servicing her boyfriend's tool. Her brain had cooked up countless sexual fantasies involving Rodie as her feelings for him developed over the years. This was a literal dream come true for her. Eagerly, Wendy pulled the overstretched elastic of his shorts down to free the last bit of poorly-concealed cock meat from its ever-tightening prison. The scent of his manhood, more concentrated from its time sweating up a lake in the confines of his shorts than it even had been when it was stuffed under the stage, wafted over her. She accepted his scent eagerly, breathing it in as one would when sampling the aromas of a flower garden. Nothing smelled sweeter to Wendy than the aroma of her lover's sex.
"I could bury my face in this thing and suffocate," she thought to herself. "But Rodie needs to get off more than me right now…"
It was hard for Wendy to ignore the dampness accumulating between her legs, but she held herself back. Single-mindedly pursuing the pleasure of her man before servicing herself, she emptied the brand-new bottle of lotion out onto his cock all at once. Just having that slimy, pure-white cream splattered onto his cock made Rodie feel amazing. It was cool to the touch, absorbing much of the radiant energy emanating from his shaft and soothing its tissues inches deep towards the precum-filled core of his loaded urethra. His glans opened up, barfing up a glistening log of precum that splashed across the entire hallway floor.
"Ooouuhhhh…" Wendy moaned. "If you liked having my lotion put on that much, you're going to love getting it worked in."
Following the queues of her lover's tool, Wendy started to massage the creamy, sweet-scented lotion into its skin. The aroma of the lotion started to fill the air as the heat from Rodie's body volatilized the mouth-watering aromatics. Notes of vanilla, sugar, and peach started to mix with his distinctive musk, forming a mouthwatering bouquet of smells that only made Wendy's desire to suffocate herself in Rodie's flesh more intense and harder to repress. As she lathered his pole with her arms, she gave in and allowed her whole torso to fall forward into his mind-controlling manhood. She drank him in through flared nostrils, digging her nose, cheeks and mouth in as deeply as his turgid flesh would allow. Cock-sweat, lotion and precum smeared across her face and breasts as she hugged his oak tree trunk of a shaft. As soon as one side of his cock was slippery with moisturizer, she slid her grip across the front and attacked the opposite end with equal vigor. The more she licked, squeezed and kneaded Rodie's fuck stick, the more rapidly it throbbed. Rodie's clenching topped out before she could climb up top or properly lubricate his trembling cumvein, as he could feel the unstoppable force of a cumshot loading into the base of his cock.
"I c-cahn't…I'm ghonnaaaaahh…" Rodie's voice shook, his body overwhelmed with the power of his inhuman tumescence.
"Oh, fuck!" Wendy exclaimed, tearing her face away from her love's gurgling sex. "Shit – I'm sorry, I forgot! L-lets see if you fit into the bathroom now?"
Wendy hurriedly positioned herself to push Rodie's cock through the tiny door of the men's lavatories.
"N-no…time…" He warned.
Despite Rodie's assessment, Wendy made her best attempt to squeeze his cock through anyway. With a rough shoulder-tackle, Wendy aimed to push the roiling flesh of his gaping, precum spewing head into the door. The door pushed inward, and with the assistance of all that lubricating hand-lotion Rodie's cock was able to fit a couple of feet inside the vacant space. The flared tip of his cock popped through the doorframe, locking him in until his erection subsided and forming a super-tight seal with the room as he unloaded into it.
Rodie's cumvein bloated outward as the explosive tide of cum ripped through his cock and out into the plugged-up restroom. He filled the square space like a rigid condom, bending its sturdy walls with the force of his ejaculation and ripping stall doors off their hinges. His dense semen oozed powerfully out of his cavernous urethra, wide enough at this point that someone of Wendy's size could crawl through it and into the churning oceans of agitated baby-batter in his thrumming cream-tanks. She ran back to bury her face into his balls as he came, shoving both of her precum-soaked hands down past the popped buttons of her denim shorts to stimulate her own twitching sex. She circled her clit and swiped her palm against her lips, welcoming the intense aroma of Rodie's cock back into her lungs. Her sopping wet cunt drooled down her legs and into the soles of her boots, filling them slowly as her boyfriend quickly engorged his drywall-lined, impromptu onahole.
The demure limbs and torso attached to the base of that room-bursting monster cock backed up against the nearest wall. Rodie tried to keep his body stabilized, but it kept convulsing wildly. He'd never experienced an orgasm of this magnitude – not in volume or in terms of the sheer pleasure that it sent coursing through his every nerve. Nothing had ever felt this good. The tingling core of his stretched-out dick and the decompressing relief in his floor-dragging sack put him in a state of supreme euphoria. He thanked Wendy a million times in his racing internal monologue, his core too racked by stimulus to control his voice or his mouth. Instead, he drooled through gritted teeth and a wild, uncontrollable smile as the last of the pent-up cum squirted out of his cock and through the floor-to-ceiling cum-flooded bathroom.
There was no mistaking the fact that the room had been filled completely at this point; Rodie could feel the warm, sticky touch of his eggshell goo all around his yards-tall glans. It was only after his orgasm finally subsided that his erection began to wane and the fluid-tight seal around the doorframe failed. The mega-viscous preggo-nectar leaked out incredibly slowly, like a liquid cement that would permanently block up these lavatories so that no one could ever use them again. Still panting and recovering his strength from that energetic release, Rodie retracted his flaccid cock to stuff back in his worn, wet leggings. Even now that his penis was entirely flaccid again, it had grown past its baseline size since he'd left his house. His kit had only shrunk back down to the size it'd been when he first stuffed himself under the table at his signing event: close to nine feet in length and with balls big enough to hide a grown adult behind.
Without much time to think about the consequences of this, or to share that potentially troublesome information with his newly-obtained girlfriend, Rodie jumped at the sudden intrusion of a familiar and stern-sounding voice coming over on the mall P.A. system.
"We're sorry about the extended delay, folks," Rodie's head agent apologized, "I'm sure that Rodie will be returning to the stage right this minute."
The intonation of their voice told Rodie that he'd better hurry up – or else. He had no idea what the consequences might be, but something about his head agent's voice certainly did have the power to whip Rodie in line.
"I'm so sorry, Wendy." Rodie started to panic. "I have to get back, but thank you so much for the help. I'll call you again when I-"
"Wait," Wendy interrupted. "I…I sorta wanna keep going."
She nodded down towards her groin, still sopping wet and cupped by both her hands.
"It's not fair if only you get off. I have to have my own fun too, you know…Plus…" She paused for a moment as her eyes were drawn in by Rodie's balls. They still looked so full. Drool fell out of the side of her mouth as she stared in a deep, hypnotic trance. "…I want to be closer to those."
An idea popped into Rodie's head. He had little time to explain – he just hoped that Wendy would like it. If she was receptive, Rodie thought that it might be a fun, exciting way for them to spend more time together too. Just as Wendy's libido was all fired up, Rodie's sex drive was still at its absolute peak.
"There's a piece of the stage that they actually hollowed out for me. You could, uhm…Crawl underneath and keep me company?" Rodie felt a little silly feeling this nervous to propose his idea, especially considering how he had just spurted truck-loads of ball-batter in the middle of the mall. His nerves sprang up in greater part from the fact he was asking this sort of thing of the girl he liked. "Like, if you want to…"
"Ohmygod – That's perfect!" Wendy shrieked.
She honestly couldn't get under that stage soon enough; his idea was exactly what she needed. Her, all alone in a dark box filled with the smell of her boyfriend's hyper cock and his growing, churning sack. Immediately, she bolted toward where the meet-and-greet was being held so that she could sneak in under the stage before Rodie sat back down.
"I'll get crawl under right now!" she yelled back as she bounced toward her hiding spit. "I luh–…I, uh, li-like you a lot!" Her maiden heart trembled in the deep core of her chest.
Rodie blushed again, waving Wendy off and quickly gathering himself before following after her.
By the time Rodie returned to the stage, Wendy was nowhere to be seen. He wondered if she had already made it safely underneath the stage, especially without being seen. The crowd shrieked in excitement upon seeing him round the corner again, cheering his name the entire time he climbed back up to his table. He could see his head agent rolling their eyes from backstage. Rodie had no idea what they had to deal with while he was away, but now that he was back the crowd was back to the joyous, excitement-filled state it was in before he called for a break. He could feel all of their eyes tracing the up-and-down jiggling of his soft, mammoth cock and tightly-packed orbs. Even though they'd just been emptied, Rodie could already feel them starting to fill and swell again. Just like when he tried draining them at home, his growing boys seemed to produce endlessly. It was only a matter of time, Rodie could tell, before he had to call for another break. He prayed that, once that time inevitably came around, Wendy would still be there with him under the stage and ready to follow him back to the restrooms. They'd have to fill the women's stalls next time, and Rodie didn't want to think too hard about what the hell they'd have to do to dispose of his shot the time after that.
As soon as he nestled his package into its storage space and planted his well-toned butt in his chair, Wendy greeted him by gently kissing the fattened head of his sweating half-chub. It was the same innocent peck that she gave him on the cheek, just in a far less innocent place. He jumped in his seat at that first touch, but quickly settled back in. He was sure that the crowd would be unable to distinguish between the squirming he was doing before the break and the squirming he was about to do now.
"Please send up the next in line," his agent spoke across the stage to the attendant.
Without much fanfare, the meet-and-greet was back on. The seemingly endless parade of women big, small, younger and older stepped up for their chance to shake the charismatic star's hand and ask for an autograph. A similar mix of personalities came up to him in this stretch of the signing as before. The wiles of his most depraved, affectionate fans seemed to come on stronger now than they did before. Perhaps as the cause, the smell of sex wafting up from underneath his table was coming off more strongly and had begun to permeate the venue much more deeply. The air from the bathroom hallway had also found its way to the crowd. As Rodie looked out nervously at his densely packed sea of admirers, he watched as lustful expressions took over their faces. Those from both the very back of the line closest to the bathrooms and those at the very front of the line closest to him breathed in deeply as their bodies were overcome with arousal. The longer things went on, the more and more the wave of musk-driven euphoria spread through the crowd. It would only be a matter of minutes until his aromatic influence reached even the most protected, distanced gals in the very middle of the crowd.
Closest to it all, Wendy was unstoppably horny. Gassing herself with the fumes off of her boyfriend's lovely, man-crushing cock was driving her mad. She couldn't keep herself from tearing Rodie's pants off completely and latching onto him like an ape clung to a tree trunk. No matter how firmly she gripped his speedily engorging cock, Rodie felt no pain. The thick skin of his trouser leviathan could shrug off any abuse inflicted upon it, allowing Rodie to savor pure pleasure as the overriding sensation.
Alone in the dark cave underneath Rodie's table, Wendy stripped herself of her shorts and tube-top so that she could mash her naked body and erect, cherry-sized nipples up against Rodie's naked member. She wrapped her every limb as far around his dick as they could reach, save one very important hand for her to jill off with. Wendy used her entire body to squeeze the precum out of her lover's tool like a milking machine. She built up her own personal wading pool with the generous drippings from his hose, tearing her hand away from the convulsing walls of her vagina only to scoop up handfuls of his sperm-stained precum to shove inside her box.
As delicious as his creamy globs of pre were, Wendy's cunt hungered for a more substantial meal.
On the onset of her umpteenth orgasm, she gripped the gargling, floor-dragging nuts beside her and kissed them repeatedly. She refocused the entirety of her worship to Rodie's swelling sack, breathlessly anticipating the next time they'd release. Then, she'd finally be able to drink up their bounty at its freshest – something she already regretted not doing back by the restrooms.
"Fuck – that's right…" Wendy whispered to them as if they were her pets. "Grow nice and big…Just…mmmmmmhph…! Like that…!"
Opening her mouth as wide as possible, she sucked up as much of Rodie's ball-flesh as her cheeks could accommodate and suckled on its surface. She wanted to tattoo his entire body in her kiss marks. She could feel his balls stockpiling more and more cum, filling in what little space remained underneath the stage inch by inch, second by second. She swore that she could even feel his sperm wriggling below the taut skin of his sack, fighting to escape so that they could fill her mouth, her pussy, and every other place she invited them into.
All of the worship that Rodie received under the table took a heavy toll on his focus. He was sure that the fans coming up to greet him could tell his movements were getting more erratic, and that his breathing was getting more labored. He had to wipe the sweat from his forehead with compulsive frequency, sometimes multiple times in the course of conversing with a single fan. They all seemed to be under the same hypnotic trance that affected Wendy the last time he saw her face: Wide-eyed, salivating uncontrollably and unable to keep their stares away from his junk. The countless admirers in the crowd had stopped looking up at the boy on stage as they excitedly inched closer and closer for their turn to invade his personal space. Instead, all of their eyes seemed trained on the thumping stage underneath him. Every single one of them could sense the raw sexual power hidden just a few flimsy planks and curtains out of sight. All that the fans wanted to talk about when they finally reached him now was his body. The frequent but coy flirtatious passes that they had taken to making at him at the beginning of the signing devolved into forward and outrageous offers of sexual favors.
"Nobody's being fooled by that tiny little stage…Can I crawl in too and get a peek for myself, big boy?"
"How much of a blimp did you turn that poor mother into on your 'bathroom break,' Rodie?"
"Why don't you pull yourself out of that cave and use me to show all the nice folks down there how a real man satisfies a woman."
As much as he wanted to, Rodie was still too nervous to step over that line on his own. He fought desperately – against Wendy's own desperate and opposing efforts – to keep down his orgasm. The assistants on stage were his personal heroes, ushering the lusty exhibitionists away before they got impatient and handsy. He doubted that he had it in him to deny their wishes if they joined in Wendy's effort, or if Wendy continued for much longer. He needed another break.
It had only been 10 minutes since his return, but his erection was bending the walls of the under-stage compartment out close to its breaking point. Wendy's juicy, precum-covered ass could be seen by all those standing closest to the bulging stage, hanging out beyond the skirt-like curtain at its base. Her upper-body was caked in layers of precum inches thick as Rodie's car-sized glans pulsed around her. The fattened lips of his super-engorged sausage's urethra were like giant buns that sandwiched her torso.
Wendy held her breath so that she could keep her head submerged in the flow of marbled goo pouring out to greet the ankles of those at the front of the crowd. Selfishly, Wendy begged to take it all for herself. She scooted her dripping, already fertilized pussy up into Rodie's flowing love-gunk river so that she could be the first to taste his virile seed, and the only to taste it in its absolute most potent and forceful form. She'd soon have that part of her wish, as Rodie could already feel the unmistakable crawl of cum up from his balls and into the base of his fleshy cannon.
With even greater desperation than before, Rodie frantically waved a stage assistant over so that he could ask for another break. Shockingly, the assistant holding back the line shook their head. Rodie felt his soul drop through a pit in his stomach. He strained to look toward backstage where he'd last seen his head agent, only to see them shaking their head at him as well. They had their ear to their cellphone, their gaze occasionally darting down from eye contact with Rodie as they scribbled something on a notepad. When the message was complete, they held it up for Rodie to see:
GROWING TOO BIG! YOU HAVE TO CUM HERE. DON'T WORRY – PR TEAM APPROVES!! :)
As soon as they appraised Rodie of the situation, his agent spoke into a walkie-talkie. All of the other members of staff supporting Rodie at the venue were relayed the same information that Rodie had just received and given the order to let the fans approach Rodie freely.
The assistants keeping the line in order raised their hands in resignation, allowing the mass of ravenous admirers to rush the stage. Immediately, Rodie was set upon by a mountain of thick-bodied girls all too eager to bury his face, head, back and arms in their breasts. What little skin on his body wasn't surrounded by mounds of milky fat – regions of his lower body that weren't under the stage that was quickly breaking down, like his rear and his public mound – were soon thereafter covered in the luscious lips of even more women that he could no longer see. Rodie felt every inch of his body worshipped as Wendy (for the time being) took the sole pleasure of satisfying the gigantic mounds of meat that at this point outweighed his body by over a hundred pounds to one. All of those not too occupied with licking and kissing him put their mouths to good use by encouraging him to finally blow.
"F-fuck – do you think it's right to tease a girl like that? Flaunting your breeder cock up on that stage and then hiding it away from me, and from everyone else! Come on…Give us what we came here for…"
"Is that your girlfriend under the stage making you leak so much? I don't think that's fair…One girl hogging all that meat for herself. You've got so much to share, too…"
"Oh, Rodie! Let me take you home! I'll keep you leaking all day…My daughters and I will be so good to you…"
Hundreds of fantasies played in Rodie's head of fucking them all. His sex-addled mind fed him crystal-clear images their bloated bellies: stuffed with cum, then with babies. An army of worshippers servicing his balls, keeping his ever-growing kit perpetually on the edge of firing. In the future he saw for himself, he sat lavishly upon a sack the size of mountains. His cock was a miles-long force of nature that could bore out white rivers in stone. Like a god atop the heavens, he was attended to at every moment by his closest, biggest wives. Their bodies were the ones he loved the most. Always by his side, his favorite wife Wendy pressed her body against his as they throated each other's tongues. Rodie would only ever stop to sleep or to drink from her milky broodmare tits. The more he played in this fantasy, the more and more it felt like a precognitive vision. As the real Wendy roughly jostled his twitching glans, Rodie could start to feel the phantom hands of all his future worshippers caressing the rest of his car-crushing tool.
Whether it sensed Rodie's desires, absorbed the wishes of the crowd, or was prompted by some other unknown force, his sex ballooned outward with a particularly dramatic and destructive thrum. All at once, Rodie's nethers packed on countless kilos of new mass, both in spongy shaft tissue and pool-filling jism. It felt to Rodie as if all the explosive power of his mounting orgasm had released internally as opposed to externally, tripling his sex organ's size and causing the stage around him to splinter into scrap. The sudden expansion of his sack allowed it to serve as a new platform on which he could sit and his begging fans could stand, lay and bounce. Wendy's unbreakable grip stayed strong; nothing could separate her form her man. Rodie's body reeled, forming new connections between his cells and the pleasure centers of his brain so that he could process even a fraction of the orgasmic sensation exploding within him.
Now that he was fully exposed, little could be done to separate more approaching women from the rest of his neglected fuckmeat. Hundreds more women came upon his bulbous, story-high scrotum, swarming him like ants to honey. Their real, fleshy, soft hands joined in with the thousands of inferior phantom ones from his future sight fantasy, urging his dick toward either its great release or another growth spurt that would take it far beyond the current, paltry length of its semitruck-sized shaft.
Never seeming to distend large enough for their own liking, Rodie's gigantic boy-bits expanded further and further towards wall-shattering girths and tower-scraping heights. Every new inch gave way for ten more inches to emerge twice as fast. The pulse of his cock brought new volume and surface area with every repetition, allowing for even more women to crowd around and stimulate their train-dwarfing idol. Before long, Rodie found himself with his back pressed against the cool tile wall of the mall, high up above the venue's 2nd level and the busted paths in front of its precum-covered shops. At the same time, he could feel the smooshed head of his throbbing erection being blown on aggressively by the high-powered AC units at the mall's front entrance, all the way on the opposite side of its long, long commercial runway. His godly pole and supernatural testes filled the entire 12,000 person capacity shopping center like a condom, and the immense pressure placed on him from all sides brought him to his breaking point.
With his orgasmic screams of ecstasy muffled by a coat of steamy, soft cleavage, Rodie finally came.
The rapid expulsion of seminal fluid from Rodie's railgun ramrod hit Wendy first. Although Rodie's urethra gaped and gasped to diameters on the scale of a subway tunnel, she had kept her dutiful grip on its lips the entire ride while nibbling on the fluid-coated, hyper-sensitive, pink flesh leading down his cumvein. His cumshot washed over her like a geyser, painting her head-to-toe in white, viscous cream while at the same time feeding in as much as her dilated, ovulating pussy could handle. Her tummy bloated like she was carrying twins, triplets, and then octuplets: A cute and small-scale preview of all the children she'd come to bear for her husband in the future. Her eggs fertilized immediately, absorbing only a fraction of the sperm that inflated her womb and leaving more redundant swimmers in her body than there are stars in the universe.
As Rodie continuously unloaded pool-filling rope after pool-filling rope, cum splashed off of the walls of the building like a tide pool to wash over all of his grounded lovers. They had already been knee-high in hyper-fertile precum before Rodie's release, but the spunk raining down on them put their heads under the surface. They drank like fish, practically inhaling their reward. Nearly every one of them removed their hands from massaging Rodie's tool, rapidly reassigning their digits to furious self-masturbation. Many attempted to hold their breath under the high waves of the sperm pool, chasing after lightheaded orgasms of their own as they worked Rodie's genetic material into their wombs. Every one of them lovingly spread his paste on and past the walls of their birth canals, ensuring pregnancy beyond its already 1000% guarantee. None of the women there that day would leave Rodie without a few babies in their guts – that is, if they ever left him at all.
Finally, the virile potion from Rodie's unyielding orgasm crept up to greet Rodie and the rest of his ceiling-high gang of first responders. Now that the fruits of their loving efforts were upon them, they threw themselves off of Rodie's body to bathe in his nut. It was only then, after those fanatics had freed him from their loving dogpile, that he could actually see the size and scale of what his erection had become. Still reeling from his cock's spewing release, Rodie took in the blurry view of the flesh-and-cum landscape he'd created. The walls of the mall were impossible to see behind their new coating of bio-paint, not that those walls would be able to hold on for much longer. Apart from him and his seed, all Rodie could make out of the world around him was the blue, spottily clouded sky above the mall's very close glass ceiling.
Without the loving touch of his penis- and ball-worshipping army, Rodie could feel the strength of his orgasm starting to die down. Even so, it was too late to save the building they were all in. One of his last, waning streams of cum gurgled out of his shaft with enough force to finally break through the mall's steel-reinforced concrete walls. His steaming, ultra-thick spunk poured out onto the parking lot around the mall, filling the cars of those fans who'd left their windows open with an additional treat to remember the occasion by. Before a quarter-minute had passed, the flood of cum swept beyond the parking lot and out into the streets, oozing down asphalt for blocks on end. The well-fertilized bodies of his panting, love-filled fans caught a ride on the flowing cum, depositing them all across the commercial district having had their every wish for Rodie's signing event fulfilled a hundred times over. For a brief moment, all of those involved basked in the afterglow of their collective orgasms and Rodie struggled with the odd sensation of simultaneously feeling both fuller and emptier than he'd ever felt in his life. However, he wouldn't have very long to contemplate this paradoxical feeling before the kick of his re-engorging testes shook the city.
"Mmmmhhh-mmm…" one of his sack-riding worshippers moaned as she approached him again from behind. "Looks like the big star is ready for his encore performance…"