Man With Huge Bulge Novels & Stories

I hiss when my skin came in contact with his own skin. “You are so huge.” I whisper truthfully. He was gigantic, I had not even pulled off his briefs and he was thicker than my wrist. “Take it off.” He gritted from between his teeth, he was so impatient. I tug the briefs off, and he sprung free. I let out a shocked gasp. He let out a relieved groan. The man was thick and long, much more than I had expected. Thick veins rounded his thickness, protruding and disappearing under the pink skin, the cap of his thickness was pink, swollen and beautiful.

Words escape my mouth once he faced us and I could see him clearly. With the mist, he seemed like any other villager from Cinco, but up close, one could tell there was a stark difference. The one thing that’s extremely prominent is the meat in his bones. He had a bulging belly and his arms seemed thick and pudgy. The biggest person that I’ve ever seen was Suzanne and it wasn’t even as big as the man in front of me. In fact, I don’t even think Suzanne was fat, she was just slightly bigger than the rest of us.

a middle-aged man from the tribe said to a bald, burly man furiously. The bald man was over two meters in height and held a steel rod in his hand, as thick as a grown man’s thigh. The sight of him was extremely shocking. Moreover, every part of his body was encased in bulky muscles.

It hit me like a slap—and fuck, it made my hole clench around nothing. He reached down. Big hand cupping the thick bulge in his sweatpants. He squeezed once, slowly. The fabric stretched, outlining every ridge and vein. Jesus Christ, he was huge. Even soft(ish) it looked obscene—long, girthy, hanging heavy to the left.

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.

I couldn’t even count how many were stacked there. Since the man wore no shirt, his grotesque body was exposed. His arms had been split in the middle so a massive hole was formed from his armpits to his wrists. His torso looked like it was floating above his waist, connected by a tiny stomach and thick tendrils of skin. His spine was lined with thick, black spikes that curved inwards and grew smaller as they descended to his waist. The man wore black longs that covered his legs but left his goat-like hooves exposed.

I tug his shorts down and his cock springs free, slapping against his stomach with a heavy thwack, the fat, veiny shaft bouncing once before settling upright, throbbing angrily in the hot air of the car. And I— I stop breathing. Holy shit. He is huge. Absolutely massive. Long and thick and veiny, the head swollen and purple and already dripping pre-cum onto his abs in thick, shiny strands. It has to be nine inches. Maybe ten. And so girthy I am not sure my fingers could wrap around it. The shaft is covered in bulging veins that pulse visibly, the balls heavy and full, hanging low and tight like they are packed with weeks of thick, fertile cum just waiting to flood my womb.

He got off the bed, his eyes barely having any traces of white in them. “Take it off.” He commanded, pointing to his trousers. I gladly unbuckled his belt and took it off completely. I unzipped the trousers, and they slid down his legs. The bulge in his boxers was so huge that my eyes widened, just at the same time that saliva dripped down my mouth. The sight of his bulge made my lower region throb so hard that it hurt. I cupped him through the boxers, and he threw his head to the back, cussing out loud.

Even soft, it was massive. The outline was unmistakable: a long, thick shaft with a fat, rounded head that pressed prominently against the material. Every time he reached for a tool or adjusted his hips to get better leverage, the bulge twitched and shifted. It looked so heavy, so full. I could see the faint ridge of veins running along its length through the thin fabric. His balls pressed heavily against the seam, two large, plump shapes that made my mouth water involuntarily. *Oh my God, Gina, stop staring,* I scolded myself, but I couldn’t. Heat flooded my face and pooled between my legs.

She saw a woman with a mechanical arm arm-wrestling a dwarf. "You’re sitting in my spot." Saoirse looked up. Standing over her was a man who looked like he was made of spare parts. He was huge, bald, and wore a leather apron covered in grease. His left eye was replaced by a crude, glowing red monocle screwed directly into his skull. His right arm was flesh, but his left was a bulky, hydraulic pincer. "I didn't see a name," Saoirse said, keeping her voice low and altering her accent to sound rougher.