Lamont always had a big problem. Well, sometimes it was a problem but most of the times it was a blessing. At nineteen years old, he was 6 foot tall with smooth, dark brown skin, low cut black hair, a trimmed goatee and beard, and two hundred pounds of muscle from weightlifting and playing football.
Lamont's problem was he had a hard time finding underwear to fit. His muscular ass wasn't the problem, or his thick legs. It was his dick. When his dick was completely soft, it was a legit six and a half inches. He'd been measuring it since he was fourteen. When hard, the six and a half inches grew to a solid eleven inches in length and six inches in girth. He'd always wished it would grow one more inch so he could fell the pride of having a foot long, but he was okay with the size he had. He'd seen a lot of other boys, and men's, dicks in various places and was almost always bigger than then. In fact, he found it hard to believe the average dick size was between six and seven inches. Lamont laughed at the thought of the grown men who were less than six inches. "That's a fuckin' boy dick!" he'd say to himself when he'd come across men on the internet talking about five and five and a half inch erections as if they were normal.
In boxer briefs, Lamont's dick always felt bunched up and his lemon-sized nut sack, which housed nuts the size of plums, didn't help either. When it was hot outside, the area sweated so much. There were times he'd ride down the street with his dick and balls out of his pant and resting on his legs so they could get some air and breath.
Underwear were so uncomfortable for him. Sometimes he just wouldn't wear any, but that was mostly in the summer time and he had to be careful. If he wore too baggy of gym shorts, he could walk up the stairs at school and people coming up the stairs on the lower floors could look up into his pant leg and see his endowment.
Getting pussy was never been a problem for Lamont. What woman in their right mind would turn down an eleven inch dick that could last for thirty or forty minutes and was attached to a man who could eat pussy as if he were starving? In spite of that, Lamont liked a special kind of woman. He's always had a thing for fucking women whose boyfriends, or husbands, had small dicks. There was a thrill in it he just didn't understand. Maybe he thought he was balancing things, or maybe he liked how tight a woman's vagina felt that was used to a smaller size and the looks on their faces when his dick touched places they didn't even know existed.
One May evening, Lamont and two of his friends were in downtown Ft. Wayne for a baseball game. Baseball was okay, but he liked the site of the women at the game even more. Baseballs weren't as big as butts, he thought and laughed.
Often times in public, Lamont wore kind of tight pants where his huge flaccid dick could be seen resting on his leg as he walked up steps and sat back in his seat. Women noticed and salivated at the thought of what it must look like uncovered. Men would look with jealousy and confusion, especially those who didn't even bulge in tightie-whities, which Lamont thought was pitiful. Asian men looked in disbelief, often nearly running into something because they hadn't been watching where they were going.
Lamont got up from his seat and headed for the restroom. He walked up the steps in black gym shorts and a white t-shirt and headed for the men's restroom.
He passed an attractive woman, who he guessed was probably about thirty, standing outside of the door to the men's restroom. She was clearly waiting on someone. Lamont noticed her nice body and decent face, but she looked familiar. He had to pee, so he didn't spend a lot of time thinking about where he might've known her from. He went into the restroom and walked up next to another black guy in the next urinal. Lamont always had a problem taking his dick out through his fly. Because of its thickness, it was such a tight squeeze and it hurt. He lowered his pants and allowed his six and a half inches to hang freely over the urinal lip.
Lamont got a glimpse of the man at the next urinal. It was Pastor Davis. Pastor Davis was a thirty-five years old, a real nice guy, and a damn good preacher. He was about the same size as Lamont, but in fat instead of muscle. He kept his balding head shaved.
"Pastor Davis?" Lamont said.
"Hey Lamont. How you doin' brotha?" Pastor Davis replied as he fumbled with his fly.
Lamont's eyes dropped a little, noticing how Pastor Davis was struggling with his zipper. "I'm good and you."
"I'm alright young man. I'm alright."
Pastor Davis finally got his zipper down and pulled out his dick. Lamont had to stop himself from laughing. He turned the other direction and smirked. He'd gotten a glimpse of Pastor Davis's dick and thought, damn his shit is little.
Pastor Davis's soft dick was barely two inches.
Lamont smirked harder and harder, feeling sorry for the man and then something occurred to him as he allowed his massive dong to dangle freely over the urinal without holding it. "Who are you here with Pastor?"
"My wife," he said. "She's standing out there waiting on me."
Lamont's face lit up, thinking of the woman outside and how hungry she could be for a real man's dick. Ain't no way he's hittin that right, he thought.
The pastor and Lamont finished peeing around the same time and turned towards one another. Lamont purposely allowed his dick to hang out a little longer while the Pastor put his we-we up. The pastor noticed the nineteen year old's endowment and his mouth dropped, thinking, Good God Almighty, but he didn't say anything. Deep down, he was a little intimidated by it. How could the nineteen year-old's dick be so much bigger than his and he was almost twice his age?
Lamont could tell the pastor noticed and pulled his shorts back up over his soft dick. He loved the facial expressions men with smaller dicks gave him. Lamont could tell they were intimidated all while being shocked and jealous.
Side by side at the sinks, Lamont and Pastor Davis washed their hands and left the restroom. Outside, the pastor introduced his wife to Lamont. Graciously, Lamont reached out and shook the shapely woman's hand. Then, he purposely allowed himself to start to get hard.
"It's nice to meet you," Lamont was saying just as the woman's eyes dropped to the bulge in the teenager's shorts. The woman was impressed and fixated with what she saw. Her husband noticed and started pulling her.
"Well, we gotta get back to our seats Lamont," Pastor Davis said. "It was nice seeing you. See you at church."
The pastor pulled his wife. Her ass jiggled as she walked away and Lamont knew she needed more than Pastor Davis's little dick could offer. He was sure of that.
Pastor knows he ain't got no business with that, Lamont thought and then pictured the pastors small dick plopping out of his fly at the urinal. Lamont shook his head and went back to his seat with a plot in mind for Mrs. Davis. He was so excited he couldn't even watch the baseball game.
He thought he would have to wait until after church on Sunday, but he saw the Pastor's wife when he went up to get nachos. She looked up from her seat and said something and next thing Lamont knew, she was headed his way.
Up at the concession stands, Mrs. Davis came up to Lamont and Lamont turned towards her. "Hi Misses Davis," he said.
"What have you came up here to get," Lamont asked really slowly and started to allow his dick to get a little hard. He bounced it in his short.
Misses Davis's eyes dropped to the young man's crotch again. Lamont knew she wasn't used to something that could actually reach up in her pussy and do long strokes.
After a couple seconds of neither one of them saying anything and Mrs. Davis's being fixated, Lamont said, "You wanna take my number and come get what you need one day."
The woman looked back towards the crowd to see that her husband wasn't looking and she pulled her cell phone out.
Mrs. Davis called Lamont and he was now at her door, around seven thirty on the following Wednesday night. Her husband had a family function and she told him she didn't feel good, so he went on without her.
The doorbell rang and she rushed for it, knowing it was Lamont. When she opened it, there he stood under the porch light. He was tall and handsome with nice chocolate skin. His body was muscular but not overworked. He wore a white wife-beater and sweatpants. Her eyes dropped to his bulge, seeing clearly that the young man was not wearing any underwear.
Lamont knew the woman was looking at him like he was a piece of meat and he knew he had so much more meat between his legs than her husband. He was shocked the woman didn't drop to her knees when she opened the door and start sucking.
"Come in," she said. "I was just reading this new book I got."
"Oh yeah. What kind? What's it called?"
"The Girls Aren't With You. It's a mystery. I like a mystery."
"I'm sure you do." Lamont smiled and casually grabbed his crotch.
Lamont stepped into the house and Mrs. Davis closed the door behind him. He noticed what she was wearing. A white t-shirt, that looked like her husband's, and the shortest shorts ever. Lamont liked how her ass cheeks hung out of the bottom of them. He could tell she was a little nervous, but he wanted to know why. He always talked to his prey before he went in for the kill.
"You got something to drink Mrs. Davis?" he asked.
"I do, I do," she said. "Come this way."
.... There is more of this story ...