Freddy yelped, scrambling backward on the couch so fast he nearly tumbled over the armrest. His eyes, still puffy from the earlier emotional confrontation, went wide as saucers as he stared at the massive, veiny cock that Kota had just freed from his slacks. It hung heavy between Kota's thighs, thick and dark and still only half hard, but already bigger than anything Freddy had ever seen in his life.
The comparison to Dillyn's discarded strap on was almost comical. The dildo looked like a child's toy next to the real thing.
"That has to be a dildo," Freddy whispered, voice cracking with disbelief. "There's no way. There's absolutely no way that's real. You're messing with me. You're both messing with me. This is some kind of prank."
Kota grabbed his own cock at the base and flopped it around casually, the heavy length slapping against his thigh with a meaty thwack that echoed in the small dressing room. The motion was almost lazy, but the weight behind it was unmistakable.
"You can feel it for yourself if you want. Go ahead. I'm not gonna bite."
Freddy crawled forward on his hands and knees, moving like someone approaching a sacred relic. His slim body still glistened with sweat from his earlier fucking, his massive ass swaying with every cautious movement. He reached out with trembling fingers and wrapped both hands around Kota's shaft. His palms didn't even come close to meeting.
The heat of it, the pulsing veins under the velvety skin, the way it twitched and swelled thicker at his touch, all of it was undeniably, overwhelmingly real.
"Holy shit," Freddy muttered, his voice barely a whisper. He stroked upward slowly, feeling every ridge and vein, his fingers tracing the thick head where a bead of precum was already forming.
"Holy fucking shit. It's so big. It's so fucking big. How does this even fit inside anyone? How do you walk around with this thing in your pants? This is insane. This is actually insane."
Dillyn, who had been watching from a few feet away with his mouth slightly open, dropped to his knees beside Freddy. His rock star ego had completely evaporated. The man who had commanded a stage of five hundred screaming fans, who had purred filthy promises into the mic and made Freddy swoon, was gone. In his place was a femboy completely awestruck by the most impressive cock he had ever seen.
"The pulsing vein," Dillyn breathed, his eyes tracing the thick blue line that ran along the underside of Kota's shaft.
"The girth... fuuuuck." He reached out with one hand, almost reverently, and wrapped his fingers around the base where Freddy's hands couldn't reach. He started stroking in slow, experimental pulls, watching the way the foreskin slid back to reveal the swollen, glistening head.
"I've never seen anything like this. I've been with so many fans, so many groupies, and every single one of them was tiny. Just little nubs. Nothing like this. Nothing even close to this."
Kota gently pulled back, stepping away from their eager hands. His cock swayed with the movement, still not fully hard but getting there fast. "Hold up. I'm not trying to cum while I'm all sweaty and gross. It's like a sauna in here." He reached up and finished unbuttoning his black shirt, peeling the damp fabric off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.
Dillyn gasped. His eyes locked onto Kota's bare chest, the broad shoulders, the defined pecs, the ridges of muscle that ran down his stomach in a perfect ladder. A thin sheen of sweat still glistened on his dark skin from the oppressive heat of the venue, highlighting every contour and groove.
"The abs," Dillyn whispered, his voice taking on an almost desperate quality. "Oh fuck, the abs. I love abs. I love them so much."
Before Kota could react, Dillyn surged forward and pressed his face against Kota's chest, his tongue dragging in a long, wet stripe through the sweat that had collected in the groove between his pecs. He moaned at the taste, salty and musky and undeniably masculine, and immediately went back for more. His hands roamed greedily over Kota's stomach, tracing each abdominal muscle, fingers dipping into the valleys between them.
"Are you sure you don't want to be my manager?" Dillyn panted between licks, his voice pitching higher, losing all traces of the smooth, dominant rock star. He sounded like a whore now, desperate and hungry. "Please. I'll do anything. I'll pay you double whatever they're paying you. Triple. I'll let you use me however you want. Every night after every show. Just please. Please be my manager. I need this cock in my life. I need these abs in my life."
"No," Kota said, the word firm but not unkind.
Dillyn pulled back, his dark eyes blazing with determination. His lips were shiny with sweat and saliva, his cheeks flushed. "I'm going to make you change your mind."
He dropped back to his knees and lunged forward, wrapping his lips around the fat head of Kota's cock with desperate enthusiasm. His jaw stretched wide to accommodate the girth, and he tried to take more, pushing forward until the thick shaft hit the back of his throat.
Then he choked. Hard. His throat convulsed, gag reflex kicking in violently, and he had to pull off with a wet, sputtering cough. Spit dripped from his lips in long strings, connecting his mouth to the glistening head.
Kota looked down at him with a mixture of amusement and mild concern. "Slow down. You're not as experienced as you pretend to be. There's no shame in taking your time."
"Shut up," Dillyn snapped, his pride clearly stinging. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes watering.
"I'm not going to be patronized by some random manager for a nobody band. I know what I'm doing. I've sucked plenty of cock before."
But when he tried again, going deeper this time, he only made it to about the five inch mark before his throat closed up and he choked again. The sound was wet and desperate, his eyes streaming tears, his chest heaving as he pulled off and gasped for air.
Kota sighed.
"If you can't even get to the base with a relaxed throat, your ass must not be able to take anything big either. You're all talk, Dillyn. Just like the strap on."
The words landed exactly where Kota intended. Dillyn's face flushed with humiliation and frustration, but he didn't argue. He just knelt there, breathing hard, staring at the massive cock that had defeated him.
Kota turned to Freddy. "You. Finger him. Get him ready. If he can't take my cock in his throat, maybe he can take it somewhere else."
Freddy's eyes lit up with mischievous delight. A slow, wicked grin spread across his freckled face as he crawled behind Dillyn.
"Oh, I've been waiting for this. My big, strong idol, about to get fingered open like a virgin on prom night. Ehehehe." His giggle was light and teasing, but his hands were steady as he pushed Dillyn forward onto his hands and knees.
He started with one finger, sliding it slowly into Dillyn's tight, pink hole. Dillyn gasped, his back arching, his fingers gripping the carpet. "Oh fuck—"
"One finger and you're already moaning," Freddy cooed, twisting his wrist gently. "What happened to the big, dominant rock star who was going to split me open with his massive cock? Ehehehe. Now you're the one on your hands and knees, getting stretched open by a fan. This is so delicious. I'm never washing this finger again."
He added a second finger, scissoring them slowly, watching Dillyn's hole stretch and flutter. Dillyn let out a low, broken moan, his hips pushing back instinctively. His tiny cocklet was rock hard and leaking steadily onto the carpet below.
"Two fingers," Freddy announced, his voice dripping with playful sadism.
"Look at you, taking them so greedily. Are you sure you're a top? Because right now you look like the neediest little bottom I've ever seen. Ehehehe. My idol. The man on my posters. Moaning like a total whore while I finger him open."
Dillyn tried to respond, but Freddy added a third finger and whatever words he had planned dissolved into a choked cry. His arms gave out, his chest pressing against the carpet, his massive ass raised high in the air. He was panting now, sweat dripping down his spine, his hole clenching rhythmically around Freddy's invading fingers.
"Three," Freddy said, his voice dropping to a mock sympathetic coo. "You're doing so well, Dillyn. So proud of you. Who knew the big bad rock star just needed a fan to take care of him? Ehehehe."
The fourth finger slid in and Dillyn lost it completely. He reached up with one shaking hand and pinched his own nipple hard, twisting it between his fingers as Freddy's fingers worked deeper. The dual sensation was too much. His body seized, a long, shuddering moan tearing from his throat as his tiny cocklet erupted, spurting thin ropes of cum onto the carpet beneath him. His hole clamped down on Freddy's fingers, fluttering wildly, and then his whole body went limp. He collapsed onto his side, twitching and gasping, eyes glassy and unfocused.
Kota looked down at the spent, trembling rock star and sighed. "He came from nipple pinching and fingering. Unbelievable."
Freddy pulled his fingers out with a wet pop, grinning from ear to ear. He wiped them casually on Dillyn's discarded jacket, still giggling to himself. "That was the most fun I've had all week. Ehehehe."
Kota turned his attention to Freddy, his cock now fully hard and throbbing, the head flushed dark and leaking. "You ready?"
Freddy's confidence, bolstered by reducing his idol to a twitching mess, surged to dangerous levels. He crawled toward Kota with a smirk, his plump ass swaying, his eyes locked on the massive cock. "Yes. Absolutely. I can handle it. I just watched Dillyn fall apart from fingers alone. I'm way tougher than him."
He leaned in and dragged his tongue along the top side of Kota's shaft, tracing the thick vein from base to tip. The taste was musky and warm, and he moaned softly, already imagining how full he was about to feel. "Mmm. Give it to me."
Kota reached down, gripped his cock at the base, and rested the heavy, leaking tip right on Freddy's upturned face. The shaft stretched across his freckled cheek and nose, the weight of it pressing down, the heat radiating against his skin. Precum smeared across his lips, and Freddy's tongue darted out instinctively to taste it.
"Get ready then," Kota said, his voice calm and steady, a direct contrast to the chaos he was about to unleash.