I remember waking up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat. I’d had an incredible dream, so vivid it felt real. I dreamed I met a god, and he told me to make wishes. I laughed in bed at the absurdity of what I asked for. But I’d just turned eighteen and had never so much as touched another man. First, I wished for the power to control anyone I wanted. Next, for a box that could duplicate anything. Finally, I asked for the ability to change my appearance. Ridiculous, right? Then the god pointed at me, and two marks appeared on my arms like Greek crowns. I woke up. I got up for breakfast, and there was my father, already drunk. Ever since my mother passed away at the start of the year, he’d been drinking heavily, and I had to save him from himself constantly. We were eating together, the smell of alcohol clinging to him, when the doorbell rang. It was my grandfather. He looked at me and said, “My grandson Mark, how you’ve grown.” A few days earlier, I’d asked him to come live with us to help with Dad. He arrived and asked me to get his things from the car. I fetched his sleep apnea machine—he can only sleep with it—and carried it inside. Upstairs, my door was ajar. My father, Robert, walked past it naked on his way to the shower. He’s sixty-eight, a burly, hairy man with a thick, hairy penis and large feet, his buttocks still muscular from his days as a former football player. I’ve always found his presence… monumental. After he finished, I went to shower. I undressed and glanced in the mirror, turning to see my back. I liked what I saw: a slim, pale body, just turned eighteen, with a pink anus and an average 16 cm penis with a rosy tip. My feet are nice—my father always complimented them, and I realized he had a thing for feet. Maybe I could use that. But when I turned, I froze. There it was—the mark from my dream. On my right arm, a golden tattoo of a crown. I stood there for five minutes, stunned. Then I wondered if the powers were real. I touched my buttocks and thought about them growing a bit. A warmth spread through me, the mark glowed, and my backside subtly increased in size. That was the beginning of my adventure in this crazy world. A few days later, I was desperate to test all my powers. It was late at night. My grandfather asked for help adjusting his sleep machine in the back bedroom. Once he was asleep, I went to the living room and saw a magnificent sight: my father, shirtless and sweaty, passed out on the couch with only one sock on. His feet were large, rough, and hairy. He was so drunk he didn’t move, just snored. I approached and smelled the sole of his foot—a scent that instantly made my penis hard and my nipples stiffen. This was the moment. I touched the mark on my arm and whispered, “He will wake up, go to my room, and lie down naked on the bed.” The mark glowed. His eyes lit up. He rose and walked to my room. I followed, watching him remove his underwear and lie down. His penis was beautiful—circumcised, thick, and covered in hair, some already gray. I lay beside him, touching his sweaty, warm penis. The smell of his armpits was intoxicating, delicious. I kissed his mouth, tasting beer and feeling his stubble. I moved down his firm, heavy belly until I reached his penis, licking his testicles before taking the head into my mouth—a salty, delightful taste. I thought, I want him erect. I want him to fuck me. The mark glowed without me touching it. Startled, I watched as he grabbed my arms, threw me onto the bed, and from behind, his now-erect penis entered me. It was a mix of pain, desire, surprise, and fear. When he thrust all 19 thick centimeters inside, I screamed from pain and pleasure. He didn’t stop, fucking me harder and harder until the pain melted into pure ecstasy. I released a jet of semen just as he came inside me.For minutes, the room smelled incredible, like sex. I lay there, watching him stand as his penis softened. I went to him and cleaned every drop with my mouth before ordering him to go to sleep. I cleaned myself up; my anus ached terribly, and there was a little blood on the tissue. Exhausted, I fell asleep.
I woke with the ache of exhaustion still clinging to my bones. The house was silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator. Passing my father’s room on the way to the bathroom, I heard him muttering behind the half-open door. “Smells like cum,” he was grumbling to himself. “Did I… in my sleep?” I shook my head and padded downstairs to make coffee and toast, the familiar routine a balm. He came down later, showered and dressed, and told me to go wake Grandpa. I trudged back upstairs, annoyed. Pushing open the door to his room, I found Mike, my 82-year-old grandfather, asleep. He looked like a slimmer, hairier Santa Claus—a comfortable mountain of a man with a white chest carpet, wearing only boxers. The CPAP machine hissed beside him. My hand moved to switch it off, but then I hesitated. A strange, warm curiosity bloomed in my chest. What did he look like under there? Before I could think better of it, I gently tugged the waistband of his boxers down. His penis lay nestled in a thicket of white hair, aged and soft, the head a darker purple. His testicles were surprisingly full. He smelled clean, like soap and sleep. A reckless impulse took over. I bent and licked him, once, the taste bland and salty. “Mark! You up there?” My father’s shout from the bottom of the stairs jolted me back to reality. I yanked the boxers up, fumbled with the CPAP machine to turn it off, and stepped back as Mike began to stir. He blinked awake, gave me a groggy “Morning, lad,” and shuffled out of bed. A few minutes later, the three of us were eating breakfast, a perfectly normal scene. I felt a secret thrill humming under my skin. Back in my room, I finally noticed it. A box.... To be Continue,
