My parents went out of town for the weekend, mom on a business trip and dad to visit his sister in the hospital, so when I woke up on the morning of my 18th birthday I figured it'd be just another three-day weekend. Both my friends, Max and TK, said they'd swing by Sunday after they get back from touring a nearby college.
After getting out of bed around noon, I walked down to the kitchen in my boxers, grabbed a couple of Hot Pockets and popped them in the microwave. I decided to fire up Facebook and aside from a few well wishes from a few of my classmates and an animated gif from my mom, hardly anyone knew it was my birthday, or at least did and didn't care. It's not like I was a social outcast or anything, a skinny nerdy overachiever or even just one of the burnouts who get high under the bleachers. But I wasn't a god-tier jock, either. I was pretty much terminally average, in terms of looks, physique, grades, you name it... except for one thing. The still rock-hard thing sticking out of the fly in my boxers. While not the biggest cock in the school, 9 inches was still well above average, especially with nearly 7 and a half inches of girth, though the base of the shaft was a solid 8 around. I was at least in the top five. My friend Max, however, was what some might call a short king who had a killer body and a porn-sized cock. Imagine a 5'4" Ross Lynch with an 11 by 8 beef dick. TK was the exact opposite, 6'4" with a body like Timothee Chalamet and a 8x6 cock between his legs. I was sort of the middle ground between the two, 5'9" with a skater boy body.
As I was wolfing down my lunch, I heard the landline ring. After swallowing a way-too-hot mouthful of cheese and sauce with a few gulps of MtDew, I picked up and answered.
"Billy?"
"Freddy?"
Freddy was my older brother's best friend growing up.
"Hey, is your bother around?"
"No. He went with Monica Denton to go skiing upstate and then he's heading back Sunday night since he has an econ class Monday morning."
"He is? Shit. Cuz I just got into town."
Freddy and my brother attended the same college until Freddy graduated a year early last year.
"Well, other than that, how's it going? How's your folks?"
"They're out of town, too. So I'm basically spending my 18th birthday all by myself. Of course, my friends will..."
"Wait! No one did anything for your birthday? That sucks! Eighteen's the big one! You're legally an adult now!"
"It's not all bad. My folks gave me a couple hundred bucks and my brother's giving me his Porsche next time he's in town. Plus my friends and I are just gonna do something Sunday when they get back from a college tour."
"Well, still! You know what? I've got nothing planned. How's about I hang out with my little buddy?"
"I was actually gonna..."
"I'm not taking no for an answer. I'll be over in a bit."
The call ended. I dashed upstairs and threw on a T-shirt and some jeans. Little did I know that I'd be WAY overdressed for what Freddy had planned.
After getting out of bed around noon, I walked down to the kitchen in my boxers, grabbed a couple of Hot Pockets and popped them in the microwave. I decided to fire up Facebook and aside from a few well wishes from a few of my classmates and an animated gif from my mom, hardly anyone knew it was my birthday, or at least did and didn't care. It's not like I was a social outcast or anything, a skinny nerdy overachiever or even just one of the burnouts who get high under the bleachers. But I wasn't a god-tier jock, either. I was pretty much terminally average, in terms of looks, physique, grades, you name it... except for one thing. The still rock-hard thing sticking out of the fly in my boxers. While not the biggest cock in the school, 9 inches was still well above average, especially with nearly 7 and a half inches of girth, though the base of the shaft was a solid 8 around. I was at least in the top five. My friend Max, however, was what some might call a short king who had a killer body and a porn-sized cock. Imagine a 5'4" Ross Lynch with an 11 by 8 beef dick. TK was the exact opposite, 6'4" with a body like Timothee Chalamet and a 8x6 cock between his legs. I was sort of the middle ground between the two, 5'9" with a skater boy body.
As I was wolfing down my lunch, I heard the landline ring. After swallowing a way-too-hot mouthful of cheese and sauce with a few gulps of MtDew, I picked up and answered.
"Billy?"
"Freddy?"
Freddy was my older brother's best friend growing up.
"Hey, is your bother around?"
"No. He went with Monica Denton to go skiing upstate and then he's heading back Sunday night since he has an econ class Monday morning."
"He is? Shit. Cuz I just got into town."
Freddy and my brother attended the same college until Freddy graduated a year early last year.
"Well, other than that, how's it going? How's your folks?"
"They're out of town, too. So I'm basically spending my 18th birthday all by myself. Of course, my friends will..."
"Wait! No one did anything for your birthday? That sucks! Eighteen's the big one! You're legally an adult now!"
"It's not all bad. My folks gave me a couple hundred bucks and my brother's giving me his Porsche next time he's in town. Plus my friends and I are just gonna do something Sunday when they get back from a college tour."
"Well, still! You know what? I've got nothing planned. How's about I hang out with my little buddy?"
"I was actually gonna..."
"I'm not taking no for an answer. I'll be over in a bit."
The call ended. I dashed upstairs and threw on a T-shirt and some jeans. Little did I know that I'd be WAY overdressed for what Freddy had planned.
