“What the fuck?” Colt asked.
“Bruh’s nutting!” Travis announced in a voice that sounded equally amused and surprised.
Behold, the freak. For his first trick, he’ll go from zero to sixty in ten seconds. For a time, I had thought that was it was normal for a guy my age — well, maybe not normal, but not too abnormal. Guys always seemed to joke around about not lasting long. At some point, I figured out that “not lasting long” usually meant cumming after five or ten minutes of stimulation, not ten seconds of teasing. My personal record was two minutes, which I’d only managed a week prior for the very first time
For his next trick, well… I hope those of you in the front row rented those ponchos and umbrellas. As evinced by the second gunshot that had just burst through my shorts, I routinely came so much that it was a fucking disaster. It was so bad that I had taken to only jerking off in the shower. Most guys my age would use a couple tissues to clean up a load; without a steady stream of water to instantly start washing away the evidence, I had to use a towel, which would end up sopping wet by the time I finished.
I had actually seen a urologist — after my eighteenth birthday, so that I could keep my parents out of the loop. I’d sought him out right after a girl had broken up with me because of my issue. She had said it felt like I was “pissing inside” of her when I’d shot my wad. The doctor had told me that I had something called “hyperspermia”; he’d said there wasn’t really anything I could do to cure it. He’d said that it sounded like I was an extreme case for someone having the condition. That news had totally bummed me out a few weeks.
As to what was happening in the poolhouse, well… more violent spurts, and a whole lot more cum.
The next few blasts similarly forced their way through the fabric then arced into the air. The puddle forming in my crotch started to rapidly expand. There was already a dark, dinner-plate- sized circle there, and it was still getting bigger. My cum wasn’t super viscous like a lot of others guys’; it wasn’t purely a liquid, but it was thin.
The orgasm kept rolling through my body. My hips had begun to buck up on their own with each new spurt. I couldn’t control myself; it just felt so amazing. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was hyper-sensitive or because of some undiagnosed freak-show-worthy quirk, but when I ejaculated, it felt better than anything I could ever imagine. I simply had to give in to the pleasure. It was impossible for me to ignore the symphony my body was conducting.
The other guys were speechless. They were just watching me like they’d paid their nickel to get inside the circus tent. Travis was still giggling under his breath, but it sounded like it had shifted to an uncomfortable laughter.
It took another solid thirty seconds of my dick constantly erupting before I could finally feel my climax coming to an end. I bucked wildly with the last few jets; it always felt like my muscles were spasming and forcing it to happen. The entire front of my shorts was soaked. The much-darker gray fabric clung to me like I had just stepped out of the pool while wearing them. I could feel a warm spot under me, too. Predictably, the cum had dripped down and formed an ample puddle on the sofa cushion.
Once the last drop squirted out, I collapsed; I was an exhausted mess. Cumming always drained me, and more than just physically. My eyes finally started to refocus on my friends.
“Did you see that?” Travis yelled into his phone. “Augie just churned out a year’s worth of jizz in a single load. Dude, what the hell? When was the last time you jerked it?”
I tried to cover my face as I turned away from him. My cheeks started burning crimson red again. Colt was shaking his head from side to side in disbelief. Liam looked way too pleased with himself. His eyes sparkled with the same intensity he had whenever we were close to winning a neck-and-neck game.
I couldn’t bear it. Even though my muscles felt like jelly, I vaulted myself up from the sofa. I briefly took note of the wet spot on the cushion as I tried to cup my hands over my deflating boner, but then I bolted.
It was only a few seconds before I had locked myself in the bathroom. I steadied myself at the sink while I caught my breath. I could hear my three amigos yakking it up through the door. I couldn’t make out the words, but I had clearly gotten them fired up.
I stared at the large mirror mounted on the back of the bathroom door. I looked like a fucking joke. Anyone who hadn’t known better would have thought I had just pissed myself. Shit, it would have been better if I had pissed myself. Guys get so drunk that they piss themselves all the time. Guys don’t pop a boner from getting grinded on by a friend and then blast a bucketful of cum through their fucking shorts in less than thirty seconds.
I felt embarrassed and disgusted with myself. I didn’t understand why I had to be so fucked up. I was already thinking about what to even say when I eventually went back into the main room. I wished I could just wave a magic wand and wipe it from their memories.
I pushed my soppy shorts and boxers down to my ankles. My thighs felt a little sticky, but they were mostly just wet. I snatched the soaked garments up into my hands. I jammed them into the sink basin and turned the water on full blast. I took a bar of soap and frantically started scrubbing them.
I heard laughter forcing its way through the solid door. Kill me now.
It took a few minutes to wash both the boxers and the shorts. After wringing them, I hung each one over a rack located in the back of the walk-in shower. I looked around for a blow-dryer, hoping that I could fix things that way, but I couldn’t find one.
I looked at myself again. My six-foot-two, muscle-bound frame looked smaller. I wasn’t sure if I was hunching over or if it was all in my head. I grabbed a towel and started swiping it at my bulky thighs. My dick had settled back into its resting five-inch state. I gave it and my large, overfilled balls a quick wipe down, then massaged the towel into my trimmed patch of black pubes to wick away any dampness. I turned around and looked over my shoulder; even my beefy ass had a shine on it from the jizz that had dripped down from the inside of my shorts.
My icy blue eyes looked tired; I was tired. Even with my strong jaw and prominent nose, I didn’t look like the fierce warrior I had always fancied myself to be. I brushed a few errant stands of jet-black hair out of my face and secured them back into place.
I tossed the fluffy, white towel I had used to clean myself into a hamper tucked below the sink; I grabbed a fresh one from the shelf above the toilet. I wrapped it around my trim waist; it was plenty big enough to not have to worry about it covering me.
I took a few steps so I was right in front of the door. I listened for a moment. I couldn’t hear anything. I reached for the knob… but then I stopped.
I tried to steel myself. I imagined myself putting on protective armor. Maybe I can make it into a joke? Maybe if I laugh with them, they won’t be laughing at me? Then another thought entered my mind. Maybe if I look pissed off enough, they won’t say anything at all? Nah, no. That’ll never work.