Man With Bulge Novels & Stories

I was surprised to see that it was the face of a stranger, and… The man was bare-chested, his skin a healthy tan. Every inch of his muscle was like God's sculpture. He had broad shoulders, a chiseled chest, and an eight-pack on his abs. He had long arms that looked strong as his biceps bulged with tight muscles. I could not help reaching out to touch them, but I was worried that I would end up provoking this relaxed yet dangerous wild beast.

Russian's POV A man in his late forties stepped into the basement, his bald head gleaming under the dim light. A tattoo of a fierce scorpion snaked from his neck to his scalp, marking him as someone not to be trifled with. His body was a canvas of ink, displaying various tattoos that told stories of battles fought and won. He dressed sharply, with a few buttons of his shirt undone, exuding an air of relaxed authority. He walked with a noticeable limp, leaning on a sturdy walking stick that seemed to amplify the aura of danger surrounding him.

She turned her phone to me. The photo was a grotesque representation of a huge man. A huge beer belly was hidden under a white tank top. His face was hidden, thank god. But something else was not. Looking down at the photo, I saw this despicable man standing in his gray boxer shorts. Which were hugging tightly around a massive bulge. It was surreal. The head threatened to poke out down against the inside of his thigh. And the obvious girth was as monstrous as the rest of the photo.

Tit shouted at me. How come I can’t scream, his dick is in front of me like that. I was shocked when I stumbled from the door and this handsome man with a big bulge in front of me was in front of me, his big bulge was in front of me. It looks like I’m going to give a blowjob to this handsome man with a big bulge! Lintek, what is the size of the bulge in his pants? It’s distracting me! I looked up, the light from above was dazzling but I could still see its dark gaze on me, as dark as my future, you really are damn, Verine!

Would you please spare a moment to take a look at me? Callie side-eyed him, noting his jovial demeanour that didn’t quite match someone in need of medical attention. Nevertheless, she cautiously examined his body. But when he removed his uniform, revealing well-defined muscles, Callie’s eyes widened as she noticed a bullet wound. ‘The wound appears to have been treated but has torn open again. I think it needs stitches.’ ‘I’m all yours.’ Despite the obvious seriousness of the injury, the man spoke as if it were a minor inconvenience and showed no signs of discomfort.

Their hands shook despite the speed of their movements. They did not pray. They did not speak. One of them retched suddenly, bending at the waist, gagging violently before wiping his mouth with his sleeve and forcing himself upright again. Elizabeth stopped a few paces away. The cloth slipped as the body was lifted, just enough for her to see the man’s face—swollen, discolored, mouth frozen open as if he had died trying to breathe. The skin beneath his eyes had darkened to bruised purple, stretched tight and shiny. Dark lumps bulged beneath his jaw, round and obscene, pulling the flesh downward.

The big-bellied man and Hudson, who were still standing around like idiots, almost stared their eyes out. Alex came back to his senses and said to the big-bellied man, "Mr. Gus, thank you for your live teaching today. It's been a great benefit to me. I have to say that as a typical example of failure, you’ve really succeeded. To show my gratitude, let me give you a piece of advice. It’s a fact that people whose bodies are weak at an older age are more likely to tumble over, due to the inconvenience of their legs." The big-bellied man's teeth were clenched, but he could not say a word.

Instinct screamed that I should fly away. As the man neared, I saw that patches of his head were bulbous and pulsating, as if from tumors. Bulges swelled beneath his clothes, as well. His veins were turning black, as if filling with oil. He was weeping crimson tears. “Hold your ground!” Alkin shouted, drawing a pistol from his belt. But the man kept coming, moving like a marionette. “I want to,” he said. “I can’t . . . control it. I’m sorreh . . . ”

Ethan stood beside me, jacket slung over his arm, eyes sharp and observant. “He’s going to try something today,” he said quietly. “I know,” I replied. “He doesn’t have many moves left.” “And the ones he does have?” Ethan asked. “Desperation,” I said. “Ego.” Ethan’s jaw tightened. “Those are dangerous tools.” The doors opened. And there he was. Evan stood at the defense table, head bent slightly as he reviewed his papers. He looked… thinner. Not physically though maybe that too but like something essential had been worn down. His suit was impeccable as always, but the precision felt forced, like armor held together by habit rather than confidence.

Silence enveloped the surroundings, and a man, hunched with a walking cane in his right hand, slowly approached them. Emberlynn watched as he tried to straighten, but she wondered how far he could, and she held her breath as she heard the cracking of bones. Her eyes widened in horror, and they flickered to Damien, who didn't look fazed about what was happening, and then to the man. He had stopped trying to stretch out his limbs, and there wasn't much stretching that he had done. He was still a little above 4 feet and hunched. As he raised his face towards Emberlynn, she noticed the wrinkles that lined his face and the most prominent features, which were his eyes. They were bulging and almost