The number 8.9 inches stared back at him from the soft, heavy length resting against his thigh, thicker than it had any right to be when completely limp. His heart hammered against his ribs, a dull, frantic thud that matched the strange new weight between his legs.
He set the ruler down on the nightstand, and tried to ignore the weirdness crawling under his skin. The ache in his crotch had dulled to a low throb, but the confusion lingered like a bad aftertaste. He rolled over, pulled the blanket up to his chin, and forced his eyes shut.
The remaining night was weird, dreams flickering between fragmented memories of plump asses clapping, long tongues curling around candy, and the sudden, impossible growth he had just measured, but he tried to ignore it, breathing slow and deliberate until sleep finally dragged him under again.
When he woke, the weirdness hadn't vanished, but something else had.
His dick didn't hurt.
Not even a little.
The raw, bruised ache that had plagued him since yesterday's marathon was completely gone, replaced by a strange, refreshed energy that hummed through his muscles like he had slept for twelve straight hours instead of the fitful five he actually managed.
His stamina felt… restored. The deep knots in his hips, the burn in his thighs, the tenderness in his balls—every last trace had evaporated overnight.
He sat up slowly, sheets pooling around his waist, and glanced down. His cock lay soft against his thigh, still noticeably heavier and longer than it used to be, but the pain was nowhere. Whatever. He wasn't going to question it right now. The clock on the nightstand read 6:30. He had to be out the door by 7:30 for school, so he had extra time, time he desperately needed after the chaos of the day before.
Kota swung his legs out of bed, feet hitting the cool floor, and headed straight for the shower. Hot water blasted over his body, steam filling the small bathroom as he lathered up, hands moving methodically over his skin. He scrubbed away the last faint traces of yesterday's mess, dried sweat from the mansion, the sticky residue that had clung to his inner thighs, the faint musk that still lingered no matter how hard he had tried to rinse it off last night. The water felt good, almost too good, cascading down his back and shoulders, easing the final remnants of tension until he felt almost normal again.
He dried off quickly, towel rough against his skin, then got dressed before 7am, fresh black hoodie, jeans that felt a little tighter in the crotch than they used to, sneakers laced tight. The apartment was quiet, the kind of early-morning stillness that made every small sound echo.
Khalil's door was still closed, but Kota could hear the faint rumble of his dad's snoring through the wall. Good. No awkward questions yet.
He checked his phone on the way to the kitchen, thumb scrolling through the notifications while he poured a quick glass of water. There were new messages. One from Riley. He opened it and immediately facepalmed, the cool glass pressing against his forehead as he read the text.
Riley: "hope u got that big cock ready to fuck me in the janitor's closet today 😩 can't stop thinking about it"
Kota didn't reply. He just locked the screen and slid the phone into his pocket, the words burning in his mind like a brand.
The janitor's closet.
Of course Riley would text something like that first thing in the morning, like yesterday's chaos had been nothing more than foreplay. Kota stepped outside the apartment door, the hallway air cooler than inside, and leaned against the wall for a second, trying to shake the fresh wave of heat that stirred low in his gut despite everything.
He decided to head downstairs early, maybe clear his head before the bus came, but before he could even reach the elevator, the door behind him opened.
Khalil stepped out, still in his work jacket, keys jingling in his hand. "Morning, son. You heading out already? I'll drive you. Got time before the site."
Kota agreed without thinking, the offer feeling like a small mercy after the whirlwind in his head. They walked side by side down the hall, boots and sneakers thudding in rhythm, and pressed the elevator button. The doors slid open with a familiar ding.
Corey was already inside.
The femboy leaned casually against the back wall, that same cocky grin spreading across his face the second he saw Kota. He waved, fingers wiggling playfully.
"Hey, Kota. How you doing this morning?"
Khalil's brow furrowed instantly, confusion and suspicion mixing in his expression as he glanced between the two of them. "You know this kid?"
Kota's brain scrambled for an excuse, words tumbling out fast. "Yeah, uh… he's a coworker from the construction gig I did a couple weeks back. Just helping out on some small jobs."
Corey, still not getting the memo at all, leaned forward with a lazy smirk, his massive ass shifting in those tight shorts. "Oh he sure as hell builds something alright. He rebuilt my ass three days ago."
Khalil turned to Kota slowly, eyes narrowing. "Explain."
Kota's heart slammed against his ribs. "Uhhh yeah… 'The Ass.' It's the name of the construction building he was a part of. You know, like… the project nickname. The Ass. Short for something. Architectural something something."
Corey blinked, still completely oblivious, and shrugged with a casual laugh. "Whatever gets you off, I guess."
Khalil's head snapped back toward Kota again, suspicion deepening. "What?"
Kota waved his hands frantically. "He meant like… get off my feet! Yeah, like get off my feet and walk to the construction site. You know, after a long day. Just slang. Construction slang."
Khalil stared for another long second, the elevator humming softly as it descended, then thankfully let it go with a grunt and a nod. "Construction slang. Right."
The doors opened on the ground floor. Kota moved fast, grabbing Corey by the back of his shirt and dragging him behind Khalil's back into the corner of the elevator. He pressed close, voice low and threatening, lips barely moving.
"If you make this harder for me than it has to be, I will turn you into a sex slave. You hear me? I'll keep you locked up and used until you forget your own name."
Corey's eyes lit up, a soft moan slipping out as he leaned in closer, breath hot against Kota's ear. "Mmm… that doesn't sound like a bad plan at all."
Kota's face burned, flustered heat rushing up his neck. "It was supposed to be a threat, you idiot."
But the elevator doors had already opened fully.
They all stepped out, Corey heading toward the parking lot with one last cheeky wink, while Kota and Khalil walked toward the old Ford F-150 parked at the curb. Khalil glanced back once, brow still slightly furrowed. "What were you two yapping about behind me?"
Kota brushed it off quick, voice steady. "Blue print plans. Just some old job stuff he was asking about."
Khalil nodded once, satisfied, and unlocked the truck. Kota climbed into the passenger seat, the familiar smell of motor oil and old leather wrapping around him like a shield.
The engine rumbled to life as they pulled away from the complex, the morning sun just starting to climb higher in the sky. Kota leaned his head against the cool window, watching the streets blur past.