Accept The Invite

“All right, I’m game,” answered Lou.

He drafted a quick message on his mobile, accepting the request and urging Alex to do the same. Though hesitant still, he confessed his self-limiting beliefs stemmed from doubts things could get better. To himself obviously. Alex, while his best bro, could never know he was hung like an infant. Their friendship, in some respects, formed through his superior standing. One which metamorphosed from tissues of the pre-teen years. Socks of adolescence. Sponge paddings of young adulthood. And this mighty prosthetic of now.

Measures he knew worked.

He considered a major change. The opportunity to feel and ‘look’ like a man. But on a slim chance. From this moment until their travel, Lou only thought about his failed boyish equipment’s impact on his behaviours. Turning him into the arrogant, narcissistic douche his hometown knows him as. People there either loved him, owing to his muscular body, electric blue eyes, chiselled diamond face and smooth, quiff-styled blonde hair. Or absolutely despised him because he made everything into a dick measuring contest, literally with the men.

Lou’s mother and step-father grown desensitised towards his conduct over the years, while his step-brother unequivocally hates him. He often wondered if his absentee bio-dad would feel differently about him. From what he suspected through comments his mother said in passing, they may be similar in all aspects. Even down to the minor details.

“Dude? You’re alright?” asked Alex.

His eyes narrowed on Lou, though the jock’s focus remained on the road. His dark blue fastback sedan passed through the town’s entrance, which, per usual, overflowed with parents and college students.

“Of course,” started Lou with a small smirk. “Just thinking about the bullshit outside.”

Alex grinned.

“Another year with pathetic froshes. They were fun in our twenties.”

Fun for you, thought Lou, huffing aloud.

After a few minutes, the men parked by the banquet’s site. They settled, putting away their personal items before leaving the car. At once, wandering eyes caught sight of the duo’s tailored apparel. While Alex wore a simple black muscle fit piqué shirt, shaded rangy jeans and suede Chelsea-style boots, Lou stood out with his open-brass collared, blue fitted evening shirt. The cuffs rolled up towards his wrists. Athletic trimmed dark coloured slim styled chinos, highlighting his beefy thighs, calves, and round, firm buttocks. And lastly full grain swarthy leather streamlined dress shoes.

His eyes twinkled juvenile mischievousness, as his interested audience’s chins dipped downwards. Their expressions flushed crimson while escaping his gaze. Though not all passers-by displayed interest. Familiar faces ranged from fleeting regard to outright disgust--prior victims of Lou’s wrath back in the day.

“Lucky we have new people here. Or else everyone would hate us.”

Alex chuckled in agreement.

The men assembled near the rear of the establishment, a large decorated space that almost cultivated an elegant ballroom countenance if not for the fact this was the gymnasium they visited during their youth. As Lou poured another glass of water, Alex tapped his shoulder. The jock followed his right hand, noting his thumb gesturing towards a lanky man, though of average height, behind him. He sat alone, looking about the room as if confused about his purpose there.

“It’s Cooley. Fucker still looks the same. Want to mess with him?”

Without even a presage, Lou walked over to Maxwell Cooley, again making Alex chortle. The jock turned around the empty chair beside Maxwell before placing his broad legs on each side as he sat. He smirked, noticing the man’s quick, widened glance in view of his proud bulge before rubbing his arms.

“C’mon buddy. Don’t you remember me?”

Maxwell quickly nodded, maintaining his gaze on the stage at the room’s front. Lou waved his large hands before his face.

“That’s not nice, buddy. We’re men now, time to put the past behind us.”

Maxwell squeaked a response, making Lou chuckle. Alex tittered even more.

The thin man’s whole body flushed, before he looked Lou in his eyes.

“J-j-just leave me alone. I’m here for the dinner. P-p-please go.”

Lou’s arms encircled his former victim’s narrow shoulders.

“Why’re you so nervous, chum? I’m here to make amend--oops!”

Lou’s thick forearms accidentally knocked Maxwell’s glass, the contained water splashing onto the timid man’s crotch. Lou simpered, contrasted against his feigned concern.

“Sorry buddy! It’ll dry soon! But don’t worry, sure those pull-ups will catch most of the--”

“What are you doing, Smallwood?!”

Lou jumped up, turning to face the hushed yet stern utterance behind him. By that time, Maxwell scurried away. Pushing past the tall, straight framed woman before him.

“D-D-Debbie!” squeaked Lou, Alex’s hilarity upon him. “W-what are you doing here?”

Debbie rolled her hazel-green eyes, situating her slender hands at her hips.

“If you used that brain of yours, you’d remember I also grew up here and wanted to see Tristian’s success. No thanks to you.”

She groaned, making the jock flush.

“You’re thirty-four, Smallwood. Stop acting like a child and grow up.”

Lou swallowed, unable to focus on Debbie Morgan - his neighbour, his manager, and all-time crush for years since graduating high school. Even now, his thoughts turned towards a recurrent scene he played in the privacy of his home.

One where he led her by hand towards his room, unzipping his pants and lowering his tight boxers to reveal his eight-inch beast.

“Lou...I don’t know if I could handle that,” she would lament.

Though her knees weakened at the marvel swinging before her. Lou would cup her cheeks, granting her a soft delicate smile bordering on his signature smirks.

“Don’t worry baby...” he whispered before removing the prosthetic and revealing his true size.

“This is me.”

Debbie’s expression would brighten, taking his full, thick lips into her own.

“It’s perfect,” she would reply, before embracing once more...

His little nub hardened, pushing his prosthetic an inch forward against his pants.

“Per usual, never listening. Lou?!”

He jumped, flashing a grin.

“Sorry Debbie. Just trying to make amends. Am I not allowed to say sorry?”

“On their terms, sure...,” answered another voice.

While stern and assertive as Debbie’s, it resounded tones far deeper and richer. Lou and Alex looked forward, while Debbie turned around. A flushed smile developing along her lips.

“Tristian!”