Incubus

I stepped out of the shower and stood in front of the mirror staring at my body.

Well... I stared at my dick mostly.

The rest of me was worth more than a cursory glance as evidenced by the way women looked at me now, but the jutting edifice between my legs commanded attention.

I changed since L's entrance into my life months before. The changes happened so slowly that I barely noticed them at first; L's sexual appetite made for a distraction that did not let me pay attention to details. I did not notice growing two inches taller, the twenty-five pounds of fat becoming muscle, my skin tone gaining a luxurious hue, or the hairline making a late inning rally. The cock thing was impossible to miss after a while though, especially since it only 'technically' qualified as a dick when I met L.

Adjusting to L glowing in amorous situations, and invisible hands holding me down while she had her way was easier to adjust to than I would have thought.

I was stunned the morning after my first sexual experience with L, but my housemate removed any thought that glowing or invisible helpers were worse than a rash in a tender place. I walked into my house that afternoon to find a hypnotized housemate in the living room; L was lying naked on the couch flipping through channels. I gave my housemate a look meant to chase him away, which he blithely ignored to continue drooling over the new entertainment center shaped like a gorgeous woman that followed me home and stayed.

L asked for a glass of water.

I figured the vicious chop block I put on my housemate's bad knee to slow him down so I could fulfill her request proved that glowing was not an insurmountable issue. I offered L the glass proudly while my competitor writhed on the ground trying not to whimper.

She rewarded my victory on the couch.

Normally, I would not have been such an exhibitionist, but the invisible hands did not give me a choice. After that, I accepted that L's minor idiosyncrasies were really none of my business.

It took three weeks for me to notice that my sexual equipment had become an appendage rather than an add-on.

Initially, I scoffed.

The angle was different; it is not like a woman on her knees in the shower had sucked me off very often or ever. It REALLY liked L, and IT had never liked a woman so much or so often therefore its enthusiasm could be understood. More sex means a healthier limb was my last stand; I read sex manuals hoping for the impossible, but accepting the common medical stance that a willie does not get bigger.

Cancerous growth!

The thought scared me so I visited the doctor, who finally convinced me that medical science did not account for L.

I prefer female doctors but mine was on vacation so I had to visit one that was not familiar with my limitations. It was embarrassing to explain so I cut out most of the details and settled on 'feeling achy down there'.

The doctor was lovely in a bookish fashion and focused on making sure she missed nothing in her investigation of what might be causing my discomfort.

She had a hands-on approach that raised the issue right away.

The doctor did not alleviate my fears with anything she said, but with her actions. She wrote down notes with her left-hand even though it was obvious she was right-handed. I had an epiphany watching her; the doctor could not take her primary hand off me.

I looked down and watched her stroke me to full-size and then continue. I leaned back as her writing hand joined the one ministering to me. My head dropped back a few minutes later as my body surged and shot.

"Everything seems to be in working order!" the doctor said excitedly while washing her hands off in the nearby sink. "You had some buildup, but if you continue to feel uncomfortable come back and we'll take a closer look."

Buildup, a proper medical symptom?!? Where was this doctor when my mom caught me spanking it?

Being male, the situation was well out of hand by the time I decided to visit a doctor so I could only ride it out from that point on. I finally noticed that the change closest to my heart was far from the only one.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I reached down and grabbed what had become a perpetually erect cock. It had gotten bigger since my visit to the doctor.

The size of the thing was not an easy adjustment to make.

First, there were the pants that no longer fit; I was not fond of shopping.

Second, the thing kept bumping into other things. I could not turn without checking so that I did not knock anything over.

Third, it was extremely unbalancing making me afraid that if I spun around too fast I would go flying like an Olympic hammer thrower that was strapped to their hammer.

By far, the worst was a certain little known fact that I am sure medical science will someday prove. The male brain and penis share a common blood pool, so a hard-on causes the male brain to run low on processing power.

Stephanie Adita proved that to me.

People in a college change constantly so my transformation went unnoticed. The professors in my department hated me for the critical success I achieved and avoided me while students are not well known for the attention they pay professors.

Stephanie was a freshman that immediately caught my eye. She had a way of swaying her hips when she walked that spoke of how confident she was about her attractiveness.

She did not think very highly of my creative writing class, and had taken it believing it would be an easy A. It would have been if she had done the required writings. I did not ask for Hemingway; it was enough that students tried as long as they handed the work in.

I knew the drill as soon as Miss Adita asked to meet so we could discuss her grade. It had happened before, and I wondered when students would realize that most professors prepared canned responses to the desperate pleas to save collegiate lives.

I sighed when Stephanie chose the flirtation angle in my office the next day. I could have saved both of us time by handing her the assignment I had for the situation. It was an easy thing; to make up for all the work missed the student had to hand in one large product that equaled the entire required page-count for the semester. My higher level writing class got the offer at the beginning of the semester, but I thought it too dangerous an option for kids that had not realized how powerful the gravitational pull of procrastination was yet.

Stephanie flashed her dark eyes at me and gave me a smile that must have melted hearts in high school. I knew she thought a little flirting with the promise of more would get her what she wanted without having to cross any lines.

I had seen the game played before so I ignored the words to study her. Stephanie was a couple of inches over five feet with nice feminine curves. Her dark skin added an exotic touch to a sexy package.

"So is there anything I can do to bring up my grade?" she asked huskily.

I noticed the room was a little darker than when she came in, and sighed at the thought of rain.

"Sir?" Stephanie asked pushing for an answer.

My hand rested on top of the assignment that I planned to give her, but instead of handing it to her I stood up. I walked around to her side of the table and leaned back.

I was dressed comfortably in baggy jeans and a button-down shirt. The jeans were one of the few articles of clothing that had survived the changes. The crotch was loose enough to give me freedom, but did nothing to hide it when I was aroused.

Stephanie's night dark eyes drifted to the obvious and widened. She sat back suddenly tense and looking trapped. I had never partaken of the hinted offers of the coeds in my classes, but that was about to change.

"You're going to fail my class, Stephanie," I told her seriously.

"But..." she started to say but stopped when I raised my hand for silence.

I did not care; I wanted her.

"You're going to fail my class," I pushed mercilessly.

I extended a hand out to her as a lifeline. Her eyes were scared as she put her hand in mine. I pulled Stephanie to her feet, and then tight against my body. Her heartbeat fluttered madly, unsure what rhythm to settle into, as the storm clouds seemed to gather outside my window.

A small part of my brain screamed about losing my job, but hung as another part of my body demanded more blood.

I put my hands on Stephanie's womanly hips and straightened her body so I could press my groin against hers. She opened her mouth to speak a protest that became a heady kiss when my lips touched her mouth. Her fingers dug into my hair as I palmed her ass and pulled her closer. Stephanie broke the kiss so I burrowed my face against her neck. Her hips circled, applying pressure on me as I kissed and nibbled her skin. I spun Stephanie around suddenly and put my hands on her belt. She gasped but recovered fast. She got up on her toes so that she could rub her ass against my desire to be inside her. Her belt came undone easily and so did her jeans. She grabbed my hands as I worked her jeans down, but her body could not decide whether it was to help or hinder.

Her jeans and panties were around her knees when I pressed Stephanie forward. I had an old couch in the office and I made Stephanie kneel on it. She put her head on the back waiting for whatever came.

I stripped quickly and stepped up to Stephanie's ass. Her knees were together hiding her treasure from me. I grabbed my dick and guided it forward until I touched her. I moved downwards until moisture kissed the tip of my dick.

Stephanie gasped as I powered forward with my hips. I could only penetrate a couple of inches into her, but it was enough to keep me on point. I grabbed Stephanie's hips, pulled mine back, and fucked into her determined to make her body accept me.

She was ready for sex so her pussy only protested my size, and not what I was doing with it. Stephanie took most of me, but it was still not enough. I tightened my grip, pulled halfway out, and rammed forward.

Her head came up and she grunted trying to hold in a scream as her pussy convulsed wetly. I held her tightly, riding the waves of her pleasure until Stephanie beached.

I moved, fucking in and out of her slowly, when Stephanie's breathing recovered. She whimpered deliciously as I lengthened the strokes. I looked down enjoying the sight of my cock fucking into one of my students.

Stephanie spent a long afternoon earning that easy A.

L walked into the bathroom and wrapped her arms around my waist. I watched her hands move to my erection. She stroked me slowly as she kissed my shoulders.

Somehow, I forgot about L and did not clean up before I headed home from my meeting with Stephanie. L stood up from the couch as soon as I walked in. She stared at me intently, but before I could confess to having been a very bad boy with one of my students she pressed me up against the door. Her hands opened my pants, and she knelt to take me into her mouth.

"She's not our type," L whispered after I had a dizzying orgasm. "But you should have brought her home for me to play with."

Stephanie indirectly inspired my fourth book, 'A Small Penis'. Many things had changed since L entered my life, but I could not blame fucking a student on some weight re-distribution, an encroaching hairline, or clearer skin. The thing between my legs, at least the arrogance of having something for which the words dick and cock seemed small to describe, had changed me.

Fuck my housemate if he did not like watching L blow me during my favorite TV show! Fuck the university administration if they had a problem with me giving extra credit for sexual favors! Fuck any woman that wanted me was exactly what I planned to do!

The book was about living with feelings of inadequacy. The critics loved it; after all, who could have possibly related better. The faculty was amused and could not stop giving me looks like I had told them I contracted cancer. It was my best selling book, doing quite well as a gag gift and a favorite parting shot from women towards their newly ex-ed boyfriends.

A new department head was appointed a month after my book came out. He was a smarmy little fuck that reminded me of the worst critics I ever met. I wondered how he got the job without having published anything, until a fellow associate professor showed me some of his old articles.

The new head had been a famous literary critic.

He threw a 'get to know my staff' party at his large home. His family left him a sizeable trust fund; unfortunately, they did not leave him the taste or class that should come with old money. L winced as soon as we entered the man's house. I was not surprised she kept her sunglasses on since the colors clashed horrendously.

The head appreciated a good-looking woman so he spent a lot of his time around L. His favorite word seemed to be 'inadequate', hinting at 'if your man is as inadequate as his book says, I can take care of you'.

The idiot's wife was an elegant blonde that gritted her teeth and bore her husband's boorishness.

"You don't actually have a small dick, do you?" she asked catching me coming out of the upstairs bathroom.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

She surprised me by grabbing the front of my trousers.

"Hold on," she whispered.

Her fingers outlined me slowly and then stroked until she got all of my attention.

"I knew a man could not write that book and have a dick like my husband's," she said heatedly.

She squeaked in fear when L covered her mouth.

"Ssshhhhh," L whispered. "We wouldn't want your husband to come looking for us, would we?"

The head's wife eyes turned languid as she shook her head meaningfully.

"This is more our type, Miguel," L told me kissing the woman's neck. "Too bad she's married, or we could keep her."

"Are you ready to go?" L asked after she finished rinsing my cum down the bathroom sink.

More amazing than the new body was that I did not hate the rituals needed to maintain it, or at least that I thought were needed to maintain it. After I lost the extra flab, L suggested I take advantage of the school gym with her. At the beginning, my enjoyment had more to do with a naked, sweaty L on my bed afterwards, but within six months I started to enjoy the quiet time I could get working out.

L preferred getting there at 7am and I had no reason to protest anything she wanted. We were stretching on the mats after our workout when she turned to me.

"Which one of these do you think we should take home?" she asked.

I raised an eyebrow.

"I want a new playmate," she said smiling.

I studied the occupants of the gym carefully. The department head's wife had not been a one-afternoon thing. L and I fucked her seven ways to Sunday in her husband's bed during the party, and she knocked on my door the next day for more of the same. A few months after our affair started, the department head took her on extended vacation that everyone thought was a last attempt to save their marriage.