Despite being inside a 5-bedroom house, this bedroom was not especially big, especially compared to the other bedrooms.
The furniture of the room was all the same shade of Oxford White that complimented the blue walls ; a 4-shelf bookcase that contained novels, computer games and several stacks of comic books and graphic novels; two bracketed shelves upon the wall, one of them carrying a flatscreen TV to which a couple of videogame consoles were wired up on the second shelf below it; and a tall, clothes filled wardrobe.
The biggest piece of furniture was the (also white) computer desk, up against the opposite wall, which supported a 21.5 inch widescreen PC monitor, as well as a high-spec gaming PC and keyboard, the former of which had been put together by Toby himself.
Many overlapped posters of decidedly ‘nerdish’ subjects decorated the blue walls, prominently displaying Toby’s interests in things like anime, cartoons, movies and videogames.
The glossy finish of the poster paper reflected the morning light around the room, the bright rays of the sun falling upon the bed in the corner.
It was a single bed, with simple grey-and-white horizontal stripes, laid up in the far corner of the room for maximum available floor space.
Toby himself was the sole occupant of the bed. The little white-furred fox was still in the process of waking up.
Blearily, his light blue eyes slowly opened.
It was very odd. Toby noted that, although the walls around him had lit up, he himself couldn’t see the sun, despite his bed facing the window…
“Uuuuurgh...” Toby groaned, as it finally dawned on him what had happened.
Morning wood.
Indeed, his duvet more resembled a tent, with the centre of it raised about foot off of the mattress, drawing the edges inwards on the bed.
Pre-cum was already dampening the very tip of that impressive spire, staining a steadily-widening dark circle into one of the grey stripes.
The white fox brought his hands to his face, and ground the palms into his eyes. Not again…
This ‘morning wood’ situation of his had literally grown more and more irritating, happening increasingly often in the past weeks and months.
Toby looked over at the alarm clock on his bedside table.
8:15am. 45 minutes before he was planning on getting up.
Sighing, he leaned over and disengaged the alarm, figuring that he might as well get up. There was no chance of him getting back to sleep now.
Grasping the closest corner of his duvet, Toby threw it over himself, exposing him – and the literal extent of his problem – to the world.
What a monstrosity Toby’s erection was – just over 13 inches from base to tip, it throbbed with an unavoidable urgency, the blood flow inside of it bringing it to an impressive ski ramp-esque curve.
It had burst through the black boxers he was wearing in lieu of pyjamas, a mighty white spire as thick as a soda can, with a few criss-crossing veins sticking out like bits of cable. In fact, when he looked under the duvet later in the day, he’d find the single button from those boxers lying there – his thunderous erection having burst through it in the early hours of that morning.
As if this were not enough, the fat crown of his dong – coal-black against the milky white-ness of the rest of his fur – was poking out of his thick foreskin, as though it was simply too big to be fully covered at anything past a half-chub.
Toby swung his legs over the side of his bed and stood up. This surplus of motion caused his giant erection to bob up and down like a diving board that had just been leapt off of, sending a small drizzle of his pre onto the carpet.
The journey from Toby’s bed to his desk was around 6 steps – hardly the Odyssey – but with what felt like a leaky shotgun sticking out of him, it became considerably harder than it should have.
Every time he took a step, he had to tiptoe as soft as he could, one hand under the thick shaft of his cock to try and steady the bouncing. The fabric of his boxers conspired against him, rubbing constantly against the base of his rod, and it was incredibly frictional against his fat, apple-sized testicles.
Normally, his meat-and-two-veg needed to be actually folded into his underwear, so as to be able to actually fit, unwilling prisoners in a fabric jail.
Finally, Toby reached his desk, and he flopped down into his desk chair.
The little fox sighed, internally bemoaning his situation.
Here he was, the owner of an enormous, unruly beastcock which had forced him to sit sideways at his desk. There was no way it would fit under there.
When this had happened previously, he would slow his breathing ( inhale for 4 seconds, exhale for 7) and visualise in his mind’s eye the corner of a grey room – the most abjectly dull thing he could think of.
All in an effort to calm his raging rod.
It would take an excruciatingly long time to get his ponderous prick to die down, he remembered. All he’d feel was his cock bouncing about excitedly, and all he’d hear was his heartbeat ringing in his ears.
But Toby couldn’t stand it any more, the frustration of having his sleep disturbed day after day just because he was stupidly over-endowed…
Frustratedly, he shoved at his rigid wang with his hand.
This was a bad idea, however.
As his palm collided with the veiny shaft, the trajectory of his hand dragged the skin down it, fully exposing Toby’s fist-sized black cock-end.
“Mmngh!” Toby cursed his lack of foresight, struggling not to cry out as a thick blob of pre-cum flew out of his dong and landed on the carpet half a foot away.
There was nothing for it. He was going to have to make his bothersome boner go away.
Carefully, Toby extended his right hand towards his cock, as though it were a live rattlesnake.
When he finally got there, he could feel it jump and throb about against his fingers… fingers that couldn’t meet around the circumference of that mighty salami…
Toby had never masturbated before – a surprising fact, considering how much of an irritant his giant cock was for him.
But, whereas other boys would have just about ripped their dicks off with the amount of wanking they’d have done by his age, Toby was a firm believer in the phrase ‘If you ignore it, it’ll go away eventually.’
But with his big sisters around, the fox knew that this was all but impossible.
Amanda and Roxanne Hamilton were stupidly sexy. It was a dirty and outrageous admission on Toby’s part, and one that Toby would never air out loud, but that had never stopped his cock from saying it for him.
Amanda’s crime was that she had a giant butt: two big, fat, jiggling chocolate globes that followed her wherever she went, supported by thunderously meaty, muscular thighs. Those mighty backhams hungrily devoured every piece of clothing she put on below her waist, turning pants into thongs, stretching yoga pants so thin they became see-through and straining the stitches on every pair of jeans to their breaking point.
To Amanda’s credit, though, she seemed to be as perturbed as he was about her rear shelf. But she took a different approach to how he himself would handle it – namely: she took to threatening anyone who stared at her wondrous rear, if not outright hitting those who were less than subtle in their advances.
And yet: while Amanda at least had the decency to be annoyed at her own stellar body, Roxanne was the complete opposite of that.
Roxanne loved the absurd curves she had been dealt in life, and flaunted them openly whenever she could.
White, transparent stockings showed off her long, shapely legs, and audaciously small skirts that would assuredly give a peek of her underwear without much movement… assuming she chose to wear any…
But it was her breasts that grabbed the eyes and refused to let them go without a fight.
The behemoth balloons that Roxanne had been blessed with were obscenely big – a clear foot of tit that heralded her arrival through a doorway or around a corner about 5 seconds before she herself came into view.
Every piece of clothing, every look that she gave, every movement that she made seemed carefully calculated so that no boy could avoid staring at her.
In fact, she owned a baby blue (and far too small) top that announced ‘IT’S OK TO STARE’ across the breadth of her stupendous jugs…
Klonk-klonk-klonk
Toby stopped, and his eyes widened. Someone was knocking on the door, and here he was, cock in hand and no way to completely hide it!
Time seemed to stop, and Toby completely froze mid-wank, his mind racing.
What was he going to do? How had he not heard the footsteps outside his door? How long had he been jerking himself subconsciously? Would whoever was knocking actually come in and catch him in such a compromising position?
KLONK-KLONK-KLONK
The knocks came again, harder and more impatient this time.
“Haw!” The roughly-hewn Scottish voice indicated that it was Amanda. “Are ye comin’ down tae breakfast?”
Halfway through his masturbation session, Toby’s attempt to sound like he wasn’t pulling himself off could have been better.
“Y-yeah, I’m coming!”
Internally wincing, he could have slapped himself for such a poor - yet ironically fitting - choice of words.
Thankfully, it seemed to have the intended effect.
“Right, well hurry up afore Dad uses up all the milk.”
Amanda’s footsteps steadily trailed away from Toby’s door, and Toby breathed again. His thick white dong had sadly not taken the time to die down, still as rock hard as before.
Gritting his teeth, Toby resumed pumping his monster meat. He absolutely could not go downstairs with that beast still erect.
Up and down his had went, pulling back his foreskin and very nearly hitting his fat nuts with the heel of his hand every time it went down.
His hand got steadily faster, and he had to lean his other elbow on his desk for support. His breathing also started to quicken as a much-needed climax drew ever nearer.
His heart raced ever harder, his breathing became more laboured and his breath more bated – he wanted, more than anything he could think of, to just get it over with.
Finally, his body acquiesced.
Toby’s whole body shuddered and convulsed slightly. His breathing ceased with a sharp gasp. Then, without his permission, his throat uttered a sort of squeaky cry from between his clenched teeth.
“Mmmnnnguhh!”
But that wasn’t the loudest noise in the room.
GBLRSHT!
An utter torrent of cum blasted out of the end of Toby’s pipe in a thick gush, flying through the air in several messy ropes.
His balls just kept pumping out gouts of that pearly sauce three, four, five times…
After this, the tremendous flow of his sperm stopped, and Toby, cock still in hand, was left gasping.
But he didn’t just gasp because of the rush of his first ever orgasm…
...he gasped because of the utter mess he had made of the posters on his wall!
Toby’s walls were covered in posters of his favourite things, and now 3 of his prized posters were completely covered in his white goo.
The cum had hit the paper-plastered wall so hard that it had created a kind of splatter-mark, radiating outwards from the initial point of impact. Equally astounding was that the spunk was actually sticking to the posters, mostly motionless except for a few drips slowly rolling down around the edges.
Toby gawked silently at the exceptional sight opposite him. Those were his best anime posters!
Oh well… at least there was no-one about to see – or indeed hear - the mess he had just made...
THBLRSHT!
The noise of what sounded like a tureen full of wallpaper paste splatting wetly against the far wall of her bedroom made Roxanne Hamilton whip around from the mirror on her desk.
Though Roxanne wasn’t the smartest in terms of education, she was nonetheless incredibly sly, so it took no time at all to figure out what had just happened.
A thick splat noise coming from Toby’s room...
A crafty grin unfurled across Roxanne’s face as she stood up from her makeup desk and headed towards the door…
Toby’s bin had been relatively empty the night before, but now the rubbish receptacle was all but full of the paper of his posters and his thick, glutinous sperm.
Removing those ruined posters from his wall was a tricky business for the white fox: quickly removing the pins, scooping up the posters with both hands, ferrying them to the bin and then slamming them messily in.
He had just gotten rid of this evidence, when there came another knocking at his door, much softer than Amanda’s had been.
“Y-yeah?” Toby didn’t even pause to think, quickly putting a hand to his monster meat – thankfully having been satiated and therefore gone floppy again – and hastily folding it over so that he could stuff it back into his boxer shorts.
He had only just sealed his cock back inside the shorts when the door opened.
A truly enormous pair of tits entered the room, and, 10 seconds later, Roxanne followed.
“Toby?” came her voice. “Are you OK?”
“Yeah, I’m alright.”
He was so not alright. Even though he’d just had his first ever wank, he wasn’t sure that he could trust his dick not to spring up again in the presence of his big sister’s big hooters.
He had been facing away from the bedroom door when she knocked, and he was facing away still when Roxanne entered, pretending to be busy with sorting out the clothes pile at the foot of his bed.
“I thought I heard something go SPLAT through here,” noted Roxanne, using her best ‘innocent’ voice. “Are you suuure everything’s OK?”
Toby turned… and instantly regretted it.
Upon turning, he was faced with his sister’s monster tits about 3 inches from his nose, clad in a baby pink t-shirt – with the phrase "If you can read this, you're not close enough" picked out in white across it’s breadth – and no bra. Why did he have to be the only member of his family smaller than 6 feet tall?
Toby swallowed, staring unsubtly at his sister’s knockers – because of her neglecting to put a bra on, her fat nipples were poking through the pink fabric containing them.
He looked up at his sister, only able to see her eyes and the top third of her head, thanks to her obscuring boobs.
“It’s OK, I’m all fine.” Toby forced himself to concentrate on his sister’s eyes. Her deep green orbs looked like they were searching his face for any outstanding emotions.
After what felt like an eternity, Roxanne smiled.
“Alright, if you’re sure...”
And with that, Roxanne turned and left the room, her bouncing milkbags visible even from the back.
The door closed, and Toby let out a shaky sigh, going back to the clothes pile and withdrawing his jeans from it.
Perhaps he’d just have breakfast in his room, today...
--------------------------------------------------------------
This is Toby.
Every day, Toby suffers from an affliction known as 'morning wood', leaving him barely able to walk, staining his sheets with pre-cum and plaguing him with inappropriate thoughts of his female family members.
In order to function as a person again, Toby has to ruin his wrist for half an hour, and goes through boxes of Kleenex like a fat kid goes through boxes of Walker's crisps.
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